#and then chirp’s bow to peep???

[a-corvid-waltz]

don’t talk to me ever again I’m going to be thinking of Peep and Chirp and their mirrored poses only

[sparring-spirals]

Chirp rides in, absolutely fucks up the vines threatening her link to her wife and her kid and when she looks through the saved portal she sees her kid, Peep. Holding just a stick in the woods but in the same pose as her mother!!!!!! "you know that she is yours and you have preserved the thing most important to her. and that was never the magic. it was you. and the chance to get to know you" !!!!!!!

"i bow to my daughter that only i can see" !!!!!!!!!!!!!

"i'm coming for you, but first i have to absolutely fucking destroy my reputation" *RAUCOUS HOOTING AND HOLLERING*

[stampvamp]

Oh please, you make me blush.. (LOT Karl x Reader)

Ello quick a/n before anything. I’ve noticed the extreme lack of x readers with this man recently and I offended beyond measure. Every story I come across was last updated in 2013 and now it’s 2023 and it’s time to shine a light on this grave of a fanbase. I’ll also be making oneshots and hcs. Please tell me if I should continue writing this. Thank you and enjoy

proofread please notify me of any grammar and mispellings <3

Sweet tunes emptied themselves out from the strings of his violin and they echoed through the empty town. Karl was alone, well for the most time. Besides his feathered friend, Arma, nothing was to keep him much company. Sure, he would terrorize humans there and here— but nothing really filled him with hope of companionship beyond Arma. Snapping out of his thoughts, a sudden squeal met itself beyond Karl’s ears.

“What was that Arma-?”

The blonde looked at the crow upon its noise. Its wings flapped against its body, and Karl removed the string instrument from his chin. Excitement ran through him, setting the bow down carefully beside him. Hurling himself closer to Arma, hoping what he heard was correct.

“you heard something and you wanna check it out-? C’mon-!”

He cheered upon the request, dusting off the dirt that had collected itself from his pant leg. Arma swiftly attached itself to his broad shoulders. Karl swept down from the pile of rubbish, only to be greeted by a soft voice echoing from a tall building.

“well- there’s gotta be an explainable output for this..”

Arma squeaked, its head turning into a dagger upon seeing a human. Despite Arma’s alarm, Karl investigated further into the human. How peculiar? To the way they sounded, and looked. Their skin reflected from the sun, and their eyes beaming with such brilliance. Are humans naturally like this? The statue watched the being in front of him closely, he was astonished.

-

Your whole body ached, the soles of your shoes holding on by a thread. You hadn’t remembered much since falling into that coma. You only had remembered the shriek you let out as the blunt object met your face. Now trying to find a new meaning, you find the world around you hostile. Every corner you turned was to be met with another being twice as strong as your own.

“Ello lil-“

The taller being groaned, the pain bursting throughout him. You had smacked him straight with a pan of significant size. You raised the pan once again, meaning to strike as he let out a shriek.

“I meant no harm-! Goodness, are all humans like this? No wonder most people cannot stand your type!”

You grumbled, looking at your only defense mechanism bent beyond repair. The once smooth steel was replaced with rocky dents and cracks. A bird swapped the weapon out of your hand, at the defense of the stranger with one quick swipe it slashed your hand.

“Arma-!“

He grabbed the bird with his bare hands, the fowl squealing as it morphed into different weaponry.

He chirped, stepping closer to you as reluctant as you were. He was taller than you, but not by a lot. His skin tone was off, like a failed paint job of cheap paints easily accessible. There was discoloration at his temple, and his large smile stared back at you.

“Not a talker huh-? Don’t worry, I’ll manage to get a peep out of ya..no matter if you like it or not-!”

Your eyes wandered back to his beloved “pet” , its body still breathing as he laid limp in his rough hands. Bored and embarrassed by its owner's resilience.

“so..you really used a pan to..defend yourself..”

He snickered, clearing his throat as he took a hold of your pan. His eyes looked around at the steel object, rubbing the wooden handle. A strong dull pain of hunger ripped itself towards you, as your stomach growled.

“Here- why not we get to know each other a little more and then you can start hating me! Give me a shot, I’ll make sure not to waste it.. I have a few items at my house and I’d love to have you-!”

You stared at him with venom, your stomach yearned for anything. The last thing you ate was with a strange man, he commented about how you looked cold so you handed you a pot of porridge. He was tall and slender, a kind and gentle smile painted itself across his white face.

He almost didn’t look real. This man didn’t have the smile Karl had. What if he decided to kill you with that bird of his. His smile looks untrusting— but what if he kept his promises? You could have energy once more and explore with ease. Your mouth watered at the possibilities as your hands balled up the material of your shirt in anticipation. You nodded reluctantly, he cheered upon your answer.

“Oh that’s wonderful!- by the way my name is Karl.. this is Arma- but I’m pretty sure I’ve already introduced him.”

The bird flocked to his side, perching itself proudly.

“ My name is Y/N.. “

He chuckled upon hearing your name, wrapping his hand around yours. His hands felt rough—

but not like the roughness of a human's hands. It had no heat, no warmth, and scraped around in your palm. Seeing you cringe, he swiftly mounted you on his back. Before you could even think, Karl had ran back to a cliff. He slid you off his back, planting you onto the wet and soft grass.

“It's not much..but it’s quiet- nothing can really hoister my abilities of playing sweet tunes upon these hills..Oh-! Have I told you I played the violin..?”

The grass felt good against your burning skin. Karl picked the violin up by its neck and held it to his collar. His bow angled itself across the strings as he played a tune. His bow played a harmonical symphony, every note light and delicate. You clapped, as he put down the violin. He bowed, one of this was one of the first applause he had received. What an achievement—!

“Why thank you—! I’m beyond flattered by you, the audience! Awh, don’t give me that look now”

You felt a bit annoyed by the lack of food. Karl handed you over a large bag, plopping it into your lap. He snickered upon hearing the noise escaping from you.

“Forgot humans are inferior when it comes to the inside. All soft and mushy.. like a marshmallow almost-“

You grumbled, striking your foot onto his leg. A pain erupted from your foot suddenly.

“Oh and that spirit-! I gotta love it! Y’know..kicking me in my leg didn’t solve anything- in fact, it ruined our trust we had built with each other..”

Your force contorted with rage, the feel in fingertips went numb as you searched for your pan.

“Trust-? There was no trust-! We’re strangers-! Nothing but complete-“

Karl’s hand covered your mouth, a slight sting appeared as you winced. Karl’s beaming smile had not been affected by your hostile response. Instead, it had spread as he looked down at you with sheer adoration.

“My, my..I thought I was finally getting a first-hand friendship with a human..how can someone so sweet turn so bitter in the matter of seconds-!”

You felt fear. The bird contorted into a knife, attaching itself to Karl’s hand. Karl’s eye contact remained, his eyes pierced into your figure.

“Good good..why not we make a deal? You help me win the tournament and I will be forever laid upon your debt! Anything, I’ll be a hitman for you..Though you really don’t have any of a choice, I’ll be happy to find another human. But..I don’t think I’d be able to find one with such a cute face..”

Your hands made an effort to pull his stony hands off of your mouth. You really did fall into his trap— in hopes to find any food, you had trusted a stranger. You had knew better, but for the slim promise of food you were coaxed. You were manipulated, and the thing is you had made it so easy for Karl to wrap your around his chiseled finger.

You nodded, afraid of your demise. Sinking back into the grass, Karl had looked upon you. His expression still not changing. You wanted to crush him, but you couldn’t. You were far too weak, too fragile, too human.

(woahahaha I finally got done.. I wrote this in total of 45 minutes not including proofreading. Also proofreading creds go to my friend jeremy. Idk if I’m keep writing for law of talos though. Please tell me if you want a part 2 🤝)

thank you for reading!!

[killxz]

02 ━━ 𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Keith Kogane x Fem!Reader

trigger warning(s): explosions?, language

-1 year later-

"Roll out, donkeys! Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you students," Commander Iverson's voice booms through the training room. 

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk stood together, heads bowed, as he scolded the trio.

"Can anyone point out the mistakes these three so-called cadets made in the simulator? Iverson booms.

"The engineer puked in the main gearbox," someone from the class offers.

"Yes. As everyone knows, vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems. What else?" Commander Iverson approves. Answers start popping out from the class.

"The comm spec removed his safety harness."

"The pilot crashed!"

"Correct. And worst of all, the whole jump, they're arguing with each other. Heck, if you're going to be this bad individually, you'd better at least be able to work as a team! Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astroexplorers, but these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what cost the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission." Commander Iverson glares at the trio.

"That's not true, sir!" Pidge revokes.

"What did you say?" Commander Iverson demands.

Lance quickly clamps his hand over Pidge's mouth. "Sorry, sir. I think he hit his head when he fell out of his chair. But point taken." he gives a nervous smile.

Commander Inverson grits his teeth and spits at Lance. "I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here is that the best pilot in your class had a discipline issue and flunked out. Don't follow in his footsteps. Next!"

Your heart clenches. Keith.

The trio walks towards you dejectedly. You smile at them, trying to raise their spirits. "Hey! Don't mind Iverson! He's just being cranky. Besides, I thought you threaded that needle perfectly, Lance!" you chirp. Lance immediately brightens and smirks, "I did, didn't I?" Pidge grumbles, and you lightly shove her side with your elbow.

"Come on, I'm hungry! Let's go to the cafeteria!" Hunk practically pushes you all to the exit.

---

"Lights out in five! Everyone back to their dorms, now!" Commander Iverson yells.

You peek from the corner you're hiding in.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Hunk nervously chatters.

"Yeah, I agree with Hunk, this could get us into serious trouble," you speak up.

"You heard Commander Iverson. We need to bond as a team. We're going to grab Pidge, hit the town, loosen up, meet some nice girls and boys..." Lance trails off, thinking about what type of girls he would meet. The hallway lights shut off.

"I'm just saying this here, right now, on the record. This is a bad idea," Hunk insists. You nod along, face scrunched in worry. Lance runs down the hallway, and you all follow quietly. You run down the hallway until you come across the Instructor's Lounge.

"You know, for someone in a space exploration program, you two don't have much of a sense of adventure," Lance rolls his eyes.

"All of your little adventures end up with me and her in the principal's office!" Hunk hisses. Lance ignores him and crouches down to peep through the glass windows to see if you're in the all-clear. After seeing that it's safe, Lance begins crawling along the wall. "Oh man," Hunk groans and follows suit. You crouch down and proceed to crawl behind them, trying not to make a sound. You reach the end of the hallway when you hear the sound of boots against the floor of the hallway.

"Quick! Hide!" Lance whisper-shouts. They dive into garbage cans while you hide behind the one Hunk hid in.

"L-5 north all clear," the patroller speaks into his comm and strides down the hallway. You come out of your hiding space while Lance jumps out of his can. Hunk struggles to squeeze himself out of it and tumbles to the ground with an 'oof'.

"I'm fine." Hunk dusts himself off. You're about to continue down the hallway when a dorm room opens and Pidge steps out, glancing around furtively before closing her door and sneaking down the hallway.

"Where is he going?" Lance narrows his eyes. You follow Pidge up to the roof of the Galaxy Garrison. Pidge sits with her tech surrounding her, with a headpiece hooked onto her head. Against your objections, Lance sneakily tiptoes up behind Pidge and takes her headphones away, whispering in her ear. "You come up here to rock out?"

Pidge gives a high-pitched scream and jumps away from Lance. She quickly regains her composure and stutters, "Oh, Lance, Hunk, Y/N. No, um, just looking at the stars."Lance squints at Pidge's tech. "Where'd you get this stuff? It doesn't look like Garrison tech."

Pidge gives a smug smile. "I built it."

Hunk inches towards the tech and extends a hand to touch it. "You built all of this?"

Pidge slaps his hand away. "Stop it! With this thing, I can scan all the way to the edge of the solar system." She continues smugly.

Lance puts his thumb and finger on his chin. "That right? All the way to Kerberos?" Pidge's face drops. "You go ballistic every time the instructors bring it up! What's your deal?" Pidge's eyes trail to the floor.

"Lance! Keep your voice down!" you hiss.

"Second warning, Hunk!" Pidge snaps as Hunk fiddles with her tech again.

Lance holds his chin high. "Look, Pidge, if we're going to bond as a team, we can't have any secrets."

Pidge sighs and relents, turning to face you. "Fine. The world as you know it is about to change. The Kerberos Mission wasn't lost because of some malfunction or crew mistake. Stop touching my equipment! So, I've been scanning the system and picking up alien radio chatter."

"Whoa. What? Aliens?" Hunk squeaks.

"Okay. So, you're insane. Got it," Lance interrupts. You elbow his side. "Lance, shut up."Pidge continues. "I'm serious. They keep repeating one word, 'Voltron'. And tonight, it's going crazier than I have ever heard it."

"How crazy?" Lance quirked a brow. Just then, an alarm blares from inside the Garrison.

"Attention, students. This is not a drill. We are on lockdown! Security situation Zulu Niner. Repeat: all students are to remain in barracks until further notice!"

Hunk and you stand up.

"What's going on?" Hunk asks. "Is that a meteor?!" He points to something in the distance. You all look in the direction he was pointing at. A big, red ball of light is speeding toward where you stand.

"A very big meteor?" Hunk finishes meekly. Pidge snatches her magnifying goggles and exclaims, 

"It's a ship!" Lance yanks the goggles to him with

Pidge still holding onto it. "Holy crow! I can't believe what I'm seeing! That's not one of ours!"Pidge lets go of the goggles. "No, it's one of theirs," Pidge says, amazed.

"I can't believe it," you whisper. "It's amazing!"

"So, wait. There really are aliens out there?" Hunk whimpers, his eyes wide. The ship crashes into one of the small valleys nearby, leaving a small earthquake in its wake. Small lights turn on as the Garrison dispatches vehicles to check out the ship.

"We gotta see that ship!" Pidge says, with all her things packed up. How did she do that? You all begin running to the roof exit door. Lance looks back and shouts, "Hunk! Come on!"

[fandonnavyce]

White Crow

Inspired by this tumblr post:

White Crow was here again today. Jason spotted him at his usual place squatting on a balcony, in an alcove on the third floor of Gotham University’s Library, conveniently located near a free-to-use whiteboard-on-wheels, low-level bookshelves, and an arched window. Today, White Crow wore a plain oversized black hoodie as a canvas for tiny shinies that were studded in constellation patterns. His ripped black jeans were tucked into a pair of glow-in-the-dark laced up black Doc Martens. His pure white hair seemed to faintly glow under Gotham’s sketchy lighting. 

Peering from above his book, Jason waited for White Crow’s brethren to arrive.

Read More

Jason watched White Crow take lengthy sips from a black and white thermos, his fingers obscuring what he knew to be was a stylised D.P monogram. His hauntingly blue eyes were narrowed in deathly attractive focus upon what looked like a very tricky series of physics law-breaking equations. For the past week the man had been working on them and each day it had only grown in complexity.      

Tap, tap, tap, went the library window. They were three stories high.  

The noise broke White Crow’s concentration. Turning his head to the window he saw, four crows patiently waiting. Smiling, White Crow put down his thermos, placing it onto the bookcase, and opened the window to let his brethren in. Four crows glided in under his outstretched arm. 

“Caw-caw” White Crow happily greeted.

“Caw!”  All four crows excitedly cried in stereo. Taking their customary flying lap over White Crow’s head, each crow settled in their usual places. One crow landed and nestled down into White Crow’s eponymous hair. One crow comfortably settled down on each of White Crow’s shoulders. The final crow stood upon White Crow’s open palm. This crow very deliberately presented the shiny it had in his beak, releasing it into White Crow’s other empty right hand. 

“Caw” went White Crow, presumably in thanks. 

“Caw-caw” replied the crow. 

Holding it up against the Gotham window daylight, White Crow inspected the offering. Apparently pleased with it, he tucked it away into his hoodie. Then White Crow seemed to take everything else he was carrying in his pockets and display it on the bookcase for the crows’ avid appraisal. 

The four birds were clearly not just hear for the goods. Even as they hopped up and down from their perch on White Crow to inspect them. They were clearly here to just hang out and chat with White Crow.

“Ahh thanks Kraz” and,

“No, you’re right Algorab” and,

“Ancients Minkar, you did what?! Gienah, where were you when this was going down?! Oh you were pooping on the Fruitcake’s bed, fair enough.” 

After roughly twenty minutes, business was clearly concluded. Each bird had chosen something and it was apparently time for the four birds to head out.

“Bye Kraz. It’s always a pleasure doing business with you”. The crow hopping off from White Crow’s hair, Kraz presumably, bowed his head in surprising solemnity before crowing and then hurriedly flying out the window, his chosen prize clutched between his claws. 

“Minkar, Gienah, my hair is fine. It was nice seeing you. Keep it up with the good work”. Minkar, and Gienah, the two crows on White Crow’s shoulders quit fussing with White Crow’s hair then they too flew off, each decked with a bauble on a string around their neck.

“And Algorab thanks again. See you again soon. We good for Wednesday yeah?

“Caw!”

Algorab, from where he was standing in White Crow’s hand, did a single loop of flight around White Crows head before flying out the window after his fellow birds. A shiny ribbon was clasped in his beak, trailing behind him. 

Closing the window behind him, White Crow then emptied more things from his hoodies’ pockets onto the bookcase. It was a stunning collection of fascinating rocks, dazzling green and blue baubles and charms, loose change, and other shiny knick knacks. Jason stared in slight awe over how much White Crow just had in his pockets. He was mildly surprised the boy didn’t just jingle everywhere.

“Here, you can have this.”

“Sorry?” Jason was utterly startled. White Crow had somehow managed to all but sneak up on him.

White Crow was giving him something. It was a black leather string but it was threaded with what appeared to be exquisitely shaped iridescent green glass.  

“Here. I thought you might like this one. I noticed you staring.”

“And in response you decided you were just gonna hand out something from your stash for free, unprompted”

“Nice things should be shared,” he quipped cheekily. Jason raised an eyebrow.

“Oh wow ok, say you’re not from Gotham, without saying you’re not from Gotham”.

“What, like my accent didn’t give it away”

“It’s not that bad,” Jason drawled, “where’s it from?”

“Nowhere you heard of, Illinois”

“And now you’re in Gotham, whatever for?”

“To see the sights”, White Crow lazily shrugged.

“In Gotham?” Jason asked sceptically. Gotham’s perpetual smog, toxic harbour, and grotesque architecture weren’t exactly in any tourist's Top 10 Must See.  

“Sure, there are some very beautiful views in Gotham” and then White Crow, very deliberately, gave Jason a once-over.

Jason couldn’t help it. He blushed. White Crow was very pretty. The white haired twink also gave off the best vibes. “Does that line often work for you?”

“The one out of one times I used it does means I have a 100% success rate with it”.

“Hey now, who’s claiming that it worked on me?” Jason snarked back contrarily.

White Crow smirked, “Your blush is doing all the talking”. 

@ectoberhaunt

[hewwo-its-floof]

Wilmina- Bip’s Origin Story (The Arcana)

           The young aspiring magician, Wilmina, was merely eight years old when the Count and Countess generously decided to host a celebration at the palace. She was buzzing with excitement all morning, holding her mother and father’s hand as they walked through the crowded Vesuvian streets. It was quite a walk from the beachside cabin, but Wilmina knew it would be worth it. Count Lucio himself had been in the square, telling everyone about all the great food there would be. But, most importantly in her mind, he told everyone that they could come see his exotic animal collection! The list he rattled off that afternoon was so extensive, Wilmina had no idea what half of those animals were. But she was excited to learn!

           She and her parents arrived at the gate and followed the rest of the crowd in. The young girl looked around as she walked. The palace sparkled like the ocean waves at the crack of dawn, like some of the magic she had been begging her parents to teach her. Like the eyes of that little orphan boy who won her a doll at that carnival last year. As she crossed the bridge to the gardens, she watched her feet. Her worn sandals, twine frayed from extensive adventures in the woods, felt so out of place against the pristine cobblestones. And as she arrived in the garden, her ears nearly burst with the chatter of hundreds of species of animals.

Right in the courtyard, near the fountain, stood large and strong men, guarding cages of many different beasts. Wilmina let go of her parents’ hands and went up to a cage with a striped kitty-cat in it. Except the cat was so much larger than the strays she played with. Her pale hand reaches out to the bars, only to be stopped by a guard. “Don’t. These beasts are dangerous, they’d eat little girls like you in mere seconds,” he warned. Wilmina looked up at the man, confused, but she complied. Her mother told her never to argue with adults because they know best. So, she simply looked at them.

Wilmina quickly grew bored of the “looking, not touching” thing. So, she wandered. She found signs leading to something called an “Aviary.” She had no idea what an aviary was, but decided it was worth a look. A large veranda was set up in a clearing with a flap opening. Two guards stood by the entrance. As she approached, one guard opened the flap for her, and she entered.

Colorful birds of so many shapes and sizes were perched high and low in the room. In the middle was a bench, unoccupied by anyone. Wilmina sat on the bench and was immediately greeted by a little gray and yellow bird with red cheeks. After a solid minute of staring at each other, the bird made a peeping noise at her. Wilmina answered back with a peep of her own. Suddenly, they were conversating with chirps and peeps.

The flap of the tent opened, and who would step in but the Count himself. Wilmina scrambled to her feet and bowed, earning a mild chuckle from him. “Hello, little girl. What is your name?”

“Wil-Wilmina, sir,” She responded. The bird seemed to stick with her, despite her sharp movements.

“I see that cockatiel has taken a liking to you,” the Count observed. His hand, the real one, took the little bird from Wilmina’s shoulder. The bird simply flew back. “My, he really has.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are your parents the magicians Elric and Nialle Kuiger?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ahh, so you must be about that age where little magicians get a familiar.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, then.” And with a flourish, the Count put Wilmina up on his shoulder- She is quite skinny for her age, so it isn’t much of a struggle- and takes her out with him. All the while, the bird-cockatiel- stays on her shoulder.

“Hear ye, hear ye! This girl here is Wilmina. And she’s about to name her very own familiar!” The Count stood in the middle of the garden. All eyes were on him and the little girl. “Now then, what is the cockatiel’s name?”

Wilmina’s heart pounded as she thought. Finally, after a few seconds, she quietly answers him. “Bip.”

“Do you hear that? Wilmina, the aspiring magician, has a cockatiel familiar named Bip now! Courtesy of yours truly.” And finally, the Count lets Wilmina down to the cheers of thousands of Vesuvians. Her father swoops her up in a big bear hug, just so proud that his daughter found a familiar. And it’s from Count Lucio! What an honor!

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

An Unwelcomed Gift

Here’s the other one that spawned from that god murdering their followers one. Once more a thank you to the peeps that encouraged/instigated me actually writing on the idea I had! 

Content warnings (My mind is clouded. Blood sugar is low while I’m working on this): body horror sort of, violence, gods/religion, blood, does biting count as well?, gore (sort of)

Also clarification. The god (they/them). The god’s spouse (she/they). They are both gods.

The god grimaced at the fools within the "church". Pleaing and crying in mass to leaders in sashes. No different from an overgrown boy scout. 

The members are branded in self chosen locations. The more shameful the location the more valued in the cult. Many idiots scattered throughout with mutilated genitals, scarred tongues, markings right over an eye. Marked with a choice of one their gods' symbols.

The god crossed their legs and gripped the arms of the chair. It has strewn away from their instruction for far too long. 

They took a deep breath in contemplation, tilting their head to the side. Allowing it to idly dangle as they remained watching. The joints which their neck was attached, strained, and popped. 

"It's time to start the cult anew." An exhausted voice behind the god muttered, their fingers crawling up the unsupported neck. 

"My darling." The god chirped, once more overcome with displeasure at the cult that defied them. 

Two bare feet, belonging to the beloved voice of the god's spouse, padded over. Standing in front of the troubled god before they fell softly to their knees.

"Honey. Do not fret. We can easily fix this." 

"Nothing should have to be fixed! This was meant to be an honor for you." The god looked to their eternal partner, slowly rolling their neck upright once more. 

"If it concerns you so. We may always try again." 

"We will fix this together? Are you sure you want to meddle further with the stubborn mortals?" 

The god's spouse looked down upon the defiant mortals, laughing. She reached their hands up to the god's head that had slowly began sliding off of the headrest. Softly grasping the side of the god's head, unbothered by the wet curls that grazed their bandaged fingers. They carefully pushed their spouse's head back to an upright position. 

"At least this time they do not fear us." 

The god looked down at their spouse, mouth agape, "We never gave reason for the prior group of mortal idiots to fear us." 

She placed a small kiss on their inner thigh, right before the knee. Lips touching right where the edge of the silk rested. 

The god laughed and lifted their partner's head. They reached to their own, cracking their neck until their neck popped back into place. Ignoring the wet sound, they leaned down placing cold, busted lips upon their spouse's temples.

"Do not bow before me." They kissed their partner's neck, "It is time to make them bow before us." 

"No more will they stress my favorite god." The spouse said on the edge of an overjoyed hum. 

Both gods snapped their fingers and stretched as they stood upon a makeshift platform the cult leaders stood upon. The platform that was strictly for the gods and the ones the gods deemed esteemed enough. 

Both stood fully naked breathing in the foul aura of the room. A form they had always taken when not in their homeland. 

"We are your gods! We demand you act like it!" The god demanded, locking their index finger together with their spouse. 

The cult leaders stood shocked, backing away from the gods who had manifested out of nowhere. When the initial shock had been overcome one of the leaders crossed their arms. 

"You want us to believe you're our gods? You look no better than the junkies on the street." The emboldened leader gestured towards the god, "You. Don't let me get started with you." 

The god's throat bulged, the muscles constricting painfully as they popped their head off. It was becoming far too agitating to hold up themself. The skin stretched and dangling as they handed it to their infuriated spouse to hold, knowing she wouldn't damage it. 

More disgust and confusion twisted people's faces watching the gods. 

"Say what you think mortal. You think I look ghastly? Like a corpse someone dug up?" 

Another leader took a large step forward, sash of leadership stained. They exhaled nasally, throwing a hand up to catch the attention of everyone in the room. 

The god's spouse tucked their partner's head in the crook of their elbow. Holding it firmly to their side as they watched the illegitimate leaders move in closer. As soon as the man with the stained sash parted their lips to speak rehearsed lies with the same theatrics, tainted further by their foul breath, she reached out a hand. 

She hummed beneath her breath, displeased. Slowly closing her outstretched hand into a fist. 

A single sound fell from the leader with bad breath's mouth, before their veins expanded rapidly. Their breaths growing panicked as she grinned, exposing the gap in her teeth. 

"Speak your mind. Follower of Damascus cult." The god's spouse stated, steempting to ignore the sparkle in the eyes of her partner's head still in her hold. 

"Guys they're the real deal! They're the real deal! Hide the revised texts!" The same leader quickly tucked away their composed facade. 

The fellow leaders looked on in disbelief. 

“These atrocities can't be gods.” Everyone looking upon them thought.  

"That's cap!" The original emboldened leader yelled out. 

The god's spouse snickered, "So you edited the texts?" She threw her fist up multiple of the leader's veins bursting within them.

The foul breathed leader trembled and screamed out. Silenced shortly after by a final destructive move of the god's spouse, no longer wanting to hear them. 

"You're having far too much fun without me darling." The god spoke crossing their arms over their chest. 

She playfully rolled her eyes and placed the god's head back atop the body to which it belonged. 

"Get to work then my dearest." 

The god watched the surviving cult members run for it and nodded. They pushed down on top of their head, ignoring the wet squishing of their flesh being forced to re-fuse together. They grabbed their partner by the shoulder and pulled her close. 

Their lips melded to one another's joyfully. The god tilting their head as they took a firm grasp of exposed asscheeks. The god's spouse breathed shakily into the kiss, parting their lips. Their hands softly pulling at the god's wet curls, flopping lazily into their eyes. Their tongues met one another's, teeth plummeting down on each of their tongues. 

They both hissed in pain pulling away from one another as blood slowly began to fill their mouths. 

The remaining leaders unfortunately drifted away from the members to take care of business. The gods not to far behind them. 

"Quick! We have to get rid of the books so we don't get arrested for this shit!" 

"Don't yell at me! I should've never listened to you wack jobs about this damn thing." They hunted through the room frantically for all the written evidence against them, "'Fuck college. We could start our own cult and get bitches.'" They mocked in a horrid attempt at a deep voice. 

"Can you idiots stop yelling? They'll hear us." Someone further back whisper yelled. 

"No worries, my selfish followers. These cops will never know any of this ever happened." The god spoke after they spat the blood in their mouth on the floor. 

"Oh shit!" One of the leaders screamed, tears blurring their vision as they tried to sprint out of the room. 

Some of their companions wept, while others armed themselves with books or keys. A couple of gags at the blood and saliva on the floor. All accepting the violence to come from the god in front of them. 

The god rolled their eyes and stuck a foot out in the runner's path. Sending them sprawling to the floor. They crouched down and effortlessly began scrawling scripture and runes with their finger into the blood. 

"Make sure you kiss ass to whoever you'll be seeing in the afterlife." The god muttered as the building caught aflame. 

The god and their spouse sat in the hallway watching the mortals attempt to run away from their fate. 

"You still want to try again?" The god asked grin overtaking their face, that began to creep to the side as they struggled to hold their head up. 

"Of course. We'll get it right eventually." The god's partner stepped in front of them lifting them happily. 

"Kiss for morale?" She questioned as the wails and screams gradually faded out. 

"Why even ask?" The god rested their forehead against hers, their eyes sparkling. 

Their lips pressed together gently, enjoying each others presence as one final scream echoed through the collapsing building. The god holding their somewhat blodied spouse's hand. 

They had plenty of time to get it right. Right now they made sure they’re mistakes became ash. 

[hazbincalifornia]

Year in Writing

My end-of-year writing reflection! And by reflection, I mean 'thing that's the equivalent of those 'post an art piece for every month' memes'.

Essentially, this is just a collection of writing snippets, one picked from each month. (Some of the ao3 links may have a different post time, that's because they were posted on tumblr initially during that month. Some are also NSFW, so be warned, but those will have a little note next to them.)

Here's to another year!

Jan- link

“So you’re the one who wanted the private show, huh?”

“Guilty as charged. I came to see your circus a bit ago, and I must admit, you captivated me. Such a perfect little specimen… I wanted to see you up close.” There’s adoration and delight tied up with a bow of something darker, dripping repression and obsession.

All four eyes are glowing, white pupils pinpricks as they focus on Blitzo. Electricity thrums up his spine as he’s seen, seen in a way that burrows down to his core, tail idly winding in the air before snapping like a whip and making the owl blink. His strained grin twitches, half-melting into something cockier.

_

Feb- link (nsfw)

“Hmm.” He crawled closer, cupping Blitzo’s face in both hands, and Blitzo’s mind swirled further as the heat bubbled the blood around his brain, deep purrs rumbling through his chest as everything wobbled the way the air always did on too-hot days when the tar melted underneath your feet. Magic thrummed throughout his body, but all he could tell was that it was making Stolas touch him, and anything that made Stolas touch him was good. “It seems that having little Stellaluna had some physiological effects.”

_

Mar- link (nsfw)

“Okay. Get on your knees.”

That was… unexpected. Kit blinked, and Clove twirled the watch again, sending a glow from his fingers into the case. It caught the light, the magic inside reflecting a prism on the wall for a brief moment before Kit decided to drop down, black jeans hitting the carpet. Clove ran his hands through his hair, murmuring soothing words about how he was such a good boy that pulled a purr out of Kit. He could live in this moment forever, looking up at the speckled quilt of skin and the pointed teeth and the mesmerizing way that Clove’s hair bounced with every little motion of his head, not quite feathers but not quite hair either.

“You want to be a good boy, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kit replied automatically, and Clove stroked up one of his antenna before his grin widened and he spread his legs.

_

April- link

Daddy meant two things, to Stolas. When warbled or excitedly chirped out of the beak of his young chick, it was love and admiration and the knowledge of protection and security, that nothing could hurt her as long as Daddy was here. Daddy was a warm lap to rest on and a comforting presence that he was happy to provide for his stunning little starlight, his sweet blossom who peeped out the title with wide, innocent eyes and chubby, flushed cheeks.

When it was teased out from under the lips and between the teeth of his little circus imp, though, Daddy dripped with bloodied honey, slick and dangerous and powerful in an entirely different way. So often, Blitzo used it to remind him of the difference in their ages in addition to a jab at how the baby in his belly got there, even though when it came to prowess in sexual matters, the imp was the one with more practical experience. Daddy was the tip of a crop sliding along the skin before it struck, the fire burning in his stomach when cooed out like a prayer, the thrill of how wrong and yet right all of this was. Even when he was the one letting it slip from his beak, it was all a play, a dance to keep them both on their toes as they figured out together what this thing that they shared was.

_

May- link (nsfw)

Satan’s sweet pussy, he knew they’d said something about heats being worse if you don’t let one in now and then, but he’d soaked through his turtleneck and coat in mere minutes and already felt like throwing himself into a shallow grave just to fuck whatever worms happened to be crawling in and out. His hips gyrated in the air, and Loona’s nose twitched again before she pinched it shut, voice stuffy as she spoke.

_

June- link

He waits. He wants to justify himself, but what can he even say? She knows what’s been done- what’s been done by him to her lovely, brilliant spitfire of a child. She has his flame, he can see it in her eyes and how she holds her hands, but there are decades of bricks built up to keep it from being blown out. 

“I know how it works.” She’s chopping some orange fruit into pieces. The knife is razor-sharp, and she spins it in her hand expertly before turning her head to face him with steely eyes. The words are well-planned as they spill out like a spool of barbed wire, and he realizes suddenly why this is the woman who named her children the way that she did. “You think that you’ll care, but you get the choice to run. He doesn’t. He grows attached so easy and he already loves the baby you put in him. I’ve spent eighteen years trying to keep them from cracking and sinking into the worst aspects of themselves like so many around here do, and I don’t want to watch my baby boy break because of you.” She impaled the point of the knife in the cutting board, and even though Stolas knows he could turn her to stone with a glance, he finds himself gulping. “If you’re going to love him, love him, and treat him like a prince. If you aren’t…” She trailed off, and Stolas can see his own distorted reflection interrupted by rivulets of juice running down it. “Don’t waste our time.”

July- link

His hand fell flat, and a nervous laugh bubbled from his chest as delight echoed in his blood. He could feel an echo of his own movement, curled up and curious as they prodded back out with their baby hand. They were safe. They were happy. They were tired. But when he draped his tail over his stomach, pure bubbly love of the kind he hadn’t felt since he was a kid curled around his brain like marshmallow fluff, sinking in and soothing away the self-doubt for just a moment.

They were excited enough to see the world that they were still spilling all over, but the flood of joy at simply living, at being himself, was overwhelming. (Had he ever really, truly loved himself this much?)

_

Aug- link

Fear and anger and boiling ancient magic bubbled inside her until they burst, swelling inside of her belly before riding up her throat. Stella coughed up a single feather as deep red as the back of a blasted skull. A moment later, droplets of her own navy blood splashed on top of it. Then… the flood.

Feathers choked out of her, smothering as they poured out fast enough to bury her form entirely with red and black and red and red and red as she clawed at the floor. Sticky and searing, her head split in two and also into a dozen pieces while they melted to her skin, sinking through her clothes even as something erupted from her back. It burned as it tore through the bone and muscle with a scream that not even the endless feathers could muffle. Her breath twisted inside her lungs as the growths on her head and back unfurled, fresh flesh still sore enough that it hurt to twitch. She could see everything cracked and shattered and from different angles as she slowly, shakily rose, fingers twitching as her claws extended at a thought even as they bled from the base.

_

Sep- link

Wisps of that same contentment as before trailed up his nerves, along with a tiny and muffled warbling coo. It wasn’t nearly as strong this time, but it had started the exact moment he’d started rubbing his stomach, so it had to be the kid saying ‘hi’ in the only way that she could short of bruising the inside of his skin by going for the boxing championship. It was a cheaper high than coke, at least, and a soft smile spread across his face at both the sound and their shared sense of serenity.

_

Oct- link

Blitzo’s eyes were blown wide, tail curling around his legs as he watched Stolas’s expression shift from confident to flustered. This was just like Kat and the Envy imp, he knew how this should end, but his racing heart at the thought of being captive was only equaled by the flames pooling between his legs at the thought of being wanted that much. “Shit, could have fooled me, but let’s put a pin in that one, alright?” 

_

Nov- link

It had been sleeping when he left.

It was fine.

It was fine.

He was going to get out of here.

He was going to get out, and it would be fine, and Barbie would drag him to a nearby bar and scrub him clean of the sweat and dirt and cum and then she’d cake him in makeup to cover the bags under his eyes and things would go back to normal, and it would be fine, and someday they would be able to laugh about this like the time in Lust they’d had to-

It was fine.

_

Dec- link

“Incorrectomundo.” He pointed the tip of the marker at her. “I have changed my mind exactly once. I thought Stolas was taking the kid, then I felt like shit about the thought I’d have to do it, and now I don’t because I want her. Any other existential crises that happened between those points are none of your legal business, missy and mister.”

“Crises?” Moxxie raised an eyebrow, and Blitzo mimed a zipped lip.

“Like I said. None of your beezlewax. I’m keeping the kid and I will find a way to not have her fuck with business. My personal life is my problem.”

[stylesloveclub]

Sweet Creature

In which harry walks in on a sweet moment between you and your daughter. 

(just a bunch of dad harry fluff w his wife n daughter i think it’s rly sweet,, just like top tier cuteness) 

+++

The first thing Harry comprehends when he wakes up is how well rested he feels. 

The early morning sun is shining through his windows, warming up his sheets and brightening up his room, and the only noise breaking the serene morning silence is the sound of birds chirping from outside. It’s peaceful, soothing… calm. 

Wait. Calm? His mornings shouldn’t be calm.

Ever since his darling little girl was born, his life has been anything but calm. 

He’s found that the parenting lifestyle is… strenuous, to say the least. Most nights he only gets a couple hours of sleep, usually being woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of his daughter crying, compelling him to get out of bed and sing her a sweet lullaby. Other times he’s up all night, rocking her to sleep and holding her in his arms to ensure she stays asleep.

He’s not complaining though! He’d take a million sleepless nights and early mornings, as long as he could hold his baby in his arms. He reckons that he never knew true happiness until he held her for the first time. She was so small, so precious. Just a bundle of joy that he and the love of his life had created.

The love of his life. Where is she?

He turns away from the window to face the side of the bed you usually sleep on… but you’re not there. Usually Harry’s the one who wakes up first, the one who wakes your daughter up and prepares breakfast for the family. And on the rare occasion that you wake up first, he can usually hear you talking to your daughter in a sweet little baby voice, the smell of breakfast drifting through the air. 

But the only thing that Harry can hear is silence, and the only thing that he can smell is the lavender laundry detergent on the freshly washed sheets. He has no idea where you are. 

So he drags himself out of bed, sleepily blinking his eyes and pushing his curls out of his face. His fingers lazily scratch at his stomach as he makes his way to the nursery, eager to see his baby peacefully asleep. He imagines that since she hadn’t made a peep throughout the night, she must be sound asleep in her crib, clutching onto her little stuffed animal and sucking on her thumb (as babies do).

But oh, oh -- what he walks into is better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. 

There you are, sleeping on the spare bed in the nursery, with your baby girl cuddled into your chest. Her cheek is smushed into your boobs and her tiny little fingers are gripping onto the collar of your shirt, while your hand is protectively cradling her back. It’s an adorable sight.

Tiptoeing his way to the edge of the bed, he kneels down -- just to admire the two most important girls in his life. He doesn’t realize that he’s got a silly grin planted on his face, growing wider and wider as he fawns over how cute you and your baby look. He thinks his heart could just burst from the amount of love he holds for you. 

His eyes trace over his baby’s face. He stares at her lips, pressed out into a little pout -- the same pout that her mummy has, with the same heart shaped cupid's bow. Her button nose is the same tiny nose that Harry had when he was a little boy, and her cheeks are chubby and rosy, just like his were. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop obsessing over her cheeks. They’re soft and smooth, and always puffed out like a little bunny. His loves rubbing his fingers over her cheeks softly while she falls asleep, just to feel the delicate skin under his thumbs and help calm her down. If he’s feeling particularly playful, he’ll smush her chubby cheeks together, which is always followed by her sweet giggles. She’ll then try to do the same back at him, smacking her two tiny hands against her daddy’s cheeks and pressing them together.

(Of course, she kind of lacks the strength to make any alterations to Harry’s face… but he plays along every single time. Exaggeratedly puckers up his lips anytime her pudgy fingers press against his face in order to fuel her childish wonder. Then he attacks her with kisses.)

His eyes then flicker up to you: the love of his life, his best friend, the mother of his child. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, Harry’s decided, because without you, he wouldn’t have the other best thing that’s happened to him -- your darling daughter. 

Your darling daughter, who’s just woken up! 

His baby’s sweet and sleepy eyes stare up at Harry, glimmering green irises identical to her daddy framed by a set of long and dark eyelashes she inherited from her mummy. Despite the fact that she’s just woken up, there’s still a happy sparkle in her eyes as she looks up at him, a toothless grin growing on her face.

Harry drops his jaw in an enthusiastic gasp. “Hi baby!” he whispers, his tone happy but hushed to ensure that he doesn’t wake his sleeping wife, “Hi my love! Did you sleep well darling?”

She mindlessly babbles at him and climbs off of her mummy’s chest, crawling to Harry at the edge of the bed.

“Look at my big girl!” he murmurs as he wraps his hands around her tiny torso, sitting her bum down on the bed that he’s kneeled next to, “did you sleep with mummy t’night? Get some cuddles from her?” 

Her cheeks are rosy and pressed upwards in a smile, careless giggles bubbling from her tummy. He thinks his baby’s giggle is the sweetest sound in the world, and wants to listen to it until the end of time, but he doesn’t want you to wake up. 

So he gently presses a finger to his baby’s lips and hushes her, “Shh, shh… we don’t want to wake mummy up, now do we?” Her babbling doesn’t stop -- all she does is mimic her daddy, pressing her tiny palm to Harry’s mouth, the same way he’s pressed a finger to hers. 

God, he doesn’t think he could love her anymore. Grabbing her chubby wrist in his hand, he plants a big fat kiss to the palm of it, pulling off with an exaggerated “MWAH!” in a way he knows will have her chuckling to no end. 

The laughs spill out and she imitates her father yet again, grasping his finger that’s pressed to her lips with both her pudgy hands, and pressing a wet, slobbery kiss to his fingertip. Pulling off with a “mah!” just like her daddy. 

All Harry can think is how endearing his daughter is when she copies him -- she’s daddy’s little girl! She’s gonna grow up to be just like him! He can’t resist the urge to just eat her up and shower her with affection. He showers her with kisses on her cheeks and blows raspberries on her little belly, cooing out words of love and adoration for his daughter. 

He doesn’t notice that in the process, you’ve woken up and seen all Harry’s playful shenanigans with your baby. You’ve got a soft smile and a fond look in your eyes when Harry looks up to see you staring.

“Oh! Look who’s awake bubs!” Harry exclaims to your baby enthusiastically, leaning forward to smack a fat kiss to your cheek, “g’morning my love.”

You sleepily murmur back a good morning while your little girl climbs onto your chest, her sparkling green eyes staring up at you with wonder and excitement. She presses her lips against your face in what you think is meant to be a kiss… but your baby hasn’t really mastered the art of kisses yet, so it’s really just a big wet spot on your cheek.

Then she latches her mouth onto your boob. 

“Oh my baby’s hungry, isn’t she?” Harry coos out, rubbing his hand gently accross her back. He lifts her up from your chest and cradles her in his arms so  that he can lean forward and press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Reckon it’s time for brekkie then.”

+++ 

this fic was subconsciously written as a part of @tbslenthusiast‘s dadathon we both just didn’t realize it at the time 

pls send me feedback pls pls pls tell me if u liked it send an ask leave a comment i would love to know, maybe like n reblog too if u’d be so kind :)

i hope u enjoyed this i didn’t proofread or get anyone to read over it so sorry if it... doesn’t make sense ?? i don’t think there are any mistakes but if there are then. oops. i wrote this in record time so pats on the back for me xoxo also take a shot everytime i say little or tiny

[shoutogepi]

Orange Lamborghini

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 6.3k 

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]  

themes : lil toucha ass play, car sex, baku being a damn tease

bio : You keep telling yourself you’re done with Bakugou, but the last time is never really the last time, is it?

author’s note : i know i said i was gonna post a tamaki fic but it’s a certain violent blonde’s birthday tomorrow!! (happy 4/20 ayy) so here you go ;) … also this is a part two to my other baku fic, “fuck you i just might”, but you don’t have to read that one before this if you don’t wanna!

side note : Y/H/N is your hero name, and reader is a pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou. ALSO he smells like caramel bc of his quirk, dont fight me on this >:(

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂taying late again?” Reo, the owner of the coffee cart stationed in the lobby of the hero agency, quizzes as he throws you an accusatory look.

You stand before him, hand awkwardly looped around your elbow and a small, bashful smile on your lips. He totally knows. But you appreciate that he never outright says anything, and you know for a fact that he would never peep even a whisper to anyone. You are probably his most loyal customer, and you’d like to think he considers you a friend after all this time— not to mention, all the coffee you’ve purchased from him.

Reo gauges your meek expression, and he only smiles as he pours the creamer into the dark brown liquid. “They must be working you hard… I’ve never seen a top hero work such long hours, staying even after everyone else has left. Well, almost everyone, that is.”

Yeah, he most certainly knows.

“What can I say?” You blabber, perhaps answering him a bit too quickly. “Work is my whole life. I don’t have time for anything else, I guess.” The sentiment is a little awkward but full of candor, and when the words leave your lips you’re surprised to hear them carry such a solemn tone.

The man nods in understanding, handing you your cup of coffee before he grabs a cookie from the glass display case and offers it to you as well. “On the house,” he states and you share a long showdown of a gaze with him before you reluctantly pluck the treat from his outreached tongs.

“Thanks Reo, you have a good night now.” Bowing slightly to the elder, you turn and take your leave, quiet steps echoing in the otherwise empty foyer.

Just as the elevator doors open to take you back up into the higher levels of the building, Reo calls out to you. “You know, you should find someone that’s just as hardworking as you. Maybe they’re closer than you think.”

Flustered by the old man’s advice, you only nod and bow again, jamming your thumb into the button. A sigh of relief escapes you as the doors conceal you from his prying eyes. That man has a sixth sense, you swear.

The elevator doors open and you briskly walk through them, along the corridor and around the corner before you finally reach the conference room. Taking a deep breath, you slip through the doorway, eyes trained on the table half-covered in paperwork. Bakugou is sitting behind the spread out files, his red eyes jumping up to regard your approaching form. Placing the cookie wrapped in napkin on the table, you nod at him as you turn and open a cabinet, fingers pinching a fresh manilla folder and shutting the door with a bump from your hip.

“Working late, huh?” His rough voice splits the silence hanging in the air, and when you turn to look at the blonde, he’s lounged back, corded bicep hung carelessly over the back of the chair and a cocky look on his face. But his eyes hold another emotion as they give you a once-over, one that makes your insides stir in both memory and apprehension.

You nod again, a coy smile gracing your lips as you take a sip of your coffee, your own gaze lingering on the muscles that poke out from the hem of his tight tank top. “You too?” You ask, even though the answer is obvious.

Bakugou’s hand twirls the pen he was previously using in rapid, effortless circles, and his knee bounces slowly underneath the table. “You gonna eat that?” He answers your question with his own, slanted eyes flicking towards the cookie resting on the tabletop just an arm’s length away from him.

“You want it?” You can’t help but be surprised— you always expected Bakugou to be an uppity-ass, no-junk-food kind of guy.

“It’s Reo’s, right?” The blonde replies gruffly, thick fingers reaching out to grab the confection. “Shit tastes like heaven.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Why, that sly little…

“Don’t work yourself too hard,” you chirp out as you turn on your heel, ready to retreat back to the safety of your office.

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes return back to your departing figure, a thin brow raised and a snarl of a smirk splitting his lips. “Aw, ‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Princess?”

“Fuck you,” it flows from your mouth, years of foul-mouthing built up into a knee-jerk reaction. Your eyes widen as his turn to slits, that stupid smirk morphing into a gleaming grin.

“Don’t tempt me.”

A wave of heat washes over you from head to toe before settling between your legs. You don’t bother to stick around, your feet carrying you out of the conference room as Bakugou’s harsh laughter trails behind you, echoing down the hallway.

Closing the door to your office behind you, you lean your back against it as you slide toward the floor, shutting your eyes tight as the memory washes over you. He’d taken you— right there on the desk you’re supposed to be working at— and ugh, it was fucking good. Shit, he was good. Dropping the folder on the floor your fingers fly to your temple, rubbing your skull in a useless attempt to push the memory away.

Alright, if you’re being honest… that was just the first time. There were, well, a handful of times following the initial incident, much to your now chagrin. There was that time in his office on the other side of the building that had a perfect view of the ocean, which you had become very familiar with while your face was pressed up against the glass and he ravaged you from behind. There was also that time when it was around this time of night and he had thrown all your paperwork off of the conference table and taken you right there, pounding into you like no tomorrow. Yeah, there were a few times you’d found yourself naked before him, pussy gripping his thick cock as your lips clashed with his.

But last time was the last time. You can’t just keep fucking him like this, all over the agency in such scandalous secrecy… the two of you hiding this gruesomely passionate beast you co-own, feeding it only once the the coast is clear and, oh, he feeds it so well… every meal a juicy, fat steak dripping with desire and euphoria, encasing your senses in a silky smooth film as his calloused hands glide all over your—  No!

You shake your head abruptly, derailing your sinful train of thought. You agreed that last time was it, fin. And… the time before that, too… and maybe the one before then as well— well, it doesn’t matter because last time was actually the last time. Pulling yourself together, you make your way toward your desk and begrudgingly begin your work.

By the time the folder is full, the clock indicates that tomorrow has begun and thus, it’s time for you to go home. Without a glance towards the conference room, you make your way toward the elevator, letting out a long sigh as the weight of the day slips from your shoulders. Jabbing your thumb into the button, you lean against the railing and check your phone out of habit. Two new messages from Jirou pique your interest, and you eagerly open the chat log to see what she’d sent.

Jiji 🎸: Girls meeting at the usual tmrw night!! Hope you can make it :)

Jiji 🎸: We all miss ya girly, you’ve been working too much lately ❤️

A part of you feels bad for misleading your friends. It’s not that you aren’t working late these days… it’s that your workload is not the only thing you’re doing when you stay after hours at the agency. Your friends had started to notice all the late nights you’d been spending at your job, and they’d begun to pout when you would bail on their bar-nights. They understood that you were working, and you hoped that they didn’t harbor any further suspicions. You had not told a single soul about your rendezvous with Bakugou Katsuki— the only person who seemed to have an inkling of your relationship, if you could call it that, was Reo.

Sliding your phone into your bag, you decide to try to make it tomorrow night. The last time had been the last time with Bakugou, so you would definitely be free tomorrow night, especially after finishing up the paperwork you had just completed minutes prior. With a wave of determination washing over you, a small smile appears on your lips as you fiddle with your staff key-card absentmindedly, wondering what you should wear when tomorrow night comes around.

When the elevator dings and opens its doors, your feet take you out of the steel chamber and into the cement confines of the parking garage. At this time of night, the only way in and out of the building is through the parking garage gate, seeing as the custodians lock up the front doors long before midnight. But you don’t mind, because the night air is fresh and cool on your face, and the subway is only a three minute walk from the garage exit. Just before you can reach out to tap your key against the automatic gate, an ear-splitting screech roars behind you and you jump, shooting straight up into the air.

Whipping around, headlights nearly blind you as they point right into your eyes. Squinting at the obnoxious light, your vision widens again when you recognize the outline of a sleek and shiny Lamborghini. An orange Lamborghini, to be precise. And a license plate with “G-ZER0” unmistakably tacked onto the front bumper, which sits almost flush against the smooth cement floor.

“Oi, Y/H/N,” a blonde head pokes out from the driver’s window, narrowed red eyes glaring at you. But his lips are curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying your frightened-animal-like reaction to the startling revv of his engine. “You’re blockin’ the way.”

Your hands indignantly turn into fists at your hips, a frown and a furrowed brow marring your expression as you turn around. Smacking the key card against the scanner you strut directly in the middle of the pavement for as long as you can before the road widens. Once the car can easily fit on either side of you, you move over to the sidewalk, arms crossed over your chest as the low car matches your pace, engine purring loudly.

The window next to you rolls down soundlessly, and the blonde leans slightly over his console to crane his face up in order to see yours. “Where are you goin’?” Bakugou inquires, and you can feel his intense gaze on the side of your face but you do not turn to acknowledge him.

“Subway.” You reply shortly, eyes trained straight ahead of you. Three minutes until you reach the subway station, exactly two corners and two blocks away.

The car roars as the angry blonde hits the pedals again, exhaust crackling with a ferocity similar to a big cat’s. The sound is deafening but you don’t waver, feet placing calmly in front of one another. “At this hour?” He pauses for a moment, long enough for you to let your guard down and chance a look at him. Which is a mistake, because goddamn he looks sexy as hell sitting in that exorbitant car, one hand thrown atop the wheel with his bicep on display, the other arm perched atop the console between the seats and those vermillion eyes blazing into you. It’s only a mere second that you give him, but he knows your resolve flutters as you look away quickly, your pace increasing to make him press on the gas just a hair harder to keep up with you.

Your breath catches in your throat when he speaks again, your heart pummeling your ribcage with vigor and a claminess lining your palms.

“Get in.”

It’s neither a question nor a statement— it’s a demand. One that has heat rising between your legs, the embers that had been so surely extinguished suddenly igniting furiously with but a scrap of sustenance. You grit your teeth and keep walking, determined not to get in the car. If you get in that car… you don’t know where you’ll end up. Or, you do know where you might end up, and that would be very bad. It takes a lot of your willpower to spit out a simple, “No thanks.”

Bakugou grumbles at your stubbornness, the vehicle screeching again as he demonstrates his displeasure and the unnecessary horsepower underneath his hood. “Come on, Y/N. Just get in,” he presses, his voice not as harsh as it was just a moment ago.

But you hold your own, flipping a stray lock of hair over your shoulder. “Aw,” you smirk, humoring him for a millisecond as your eyes flick over to him, “‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Boom-Boy?” Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he visibly bristles in the corner of your eye.

“Damn it, I’m trying ‘ta— tch,” Bakugou grumbles and cuts himself off before he apparently decides he’s not going to play the familiar game of cat and mouse with you, “Fuck this.” Tires squealing on the rubble, the sleek car leaves you in the dust, sharply turning the corner ahead of you before disappearing into the night, the noise of the thundering engine echoing through the tall cityscape.

You glare at the corner ahead of you, unimpressed. He was trying to— to what, put you in a pissy mood? Hell of a job he did, if that was the case. Frown sinking into your cheeks deeper than before, you continue your way to the subway station while you pull your phone out to distract you from your miffed thoughts. Turning around the very same corner the orange sports car had rounded just a minute ago, you nearly drop your belongings when a pair of rough hands grip your biceps.

Relief washes over you for a moment when you meet Bakugou's irritated expression, before horror spreads through your limbs as he shoves you into his open passenger door. Without much of a fight you’re inside the vehicle, fruitlessly yanking the door handle only to find it’s locked shut. Sliding back into the luxurious leather seat, you scowl at the hero as he slams his door closed and snags the black seatbelt over his torso. “The fuck, Bakugou?” You hiss, attempting the door again to no avail.

“Hey, easy with that!” He growls, a thick finger flicking the pedal shifter into drive and slapping his boot against the gas. His eyes meet yours as a wicked grin lifts his lips. “Buckle up, Princess.”

Your head smacks against the back of the seat as the car lurches into a velocity that no doubt exceeds the speed-limit. Your hands scramble over your shoulder and you frantically grab the metal clip, unceremoniously shoving the belt across your lap to find its destination. Once the joint clicks into place, your eyes fly to the man beside you, pure rage boiling underneath your skin. “You asshole! I’m gonna rip your dick off!” You yell, the slightly ajar windows letting air zip into the cabin and howl in your ears, your hair flying around your face.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he quips dryly, voice deep but holding an infuriatingly potent tone of amusement.

You shut up at that, heat rising to your cheeks as you look out the window defiantly, away from him. Your eyes trail over the interior of the car, curiosity winning you over as you your fingers trace the smooth features lining the inside of the door. There’s a soft underlighting beneath the seats, glowing an acidic green to compliment the orange of the exterior in a display that screams man with an enormous ego. You roll your eyes, adjusting your legs to point away from him as much as possible.

“I didn’t know you had a Lamborghini. This how you get into your slutty fangirls’ pants? Take ‘em for a ride in the Baku-bile?” You ask, shooting daggers into his sharp jawline. The premise of him fucking faceless girls in the very seat you’re in makes you want to throw up in disgust.

Bakugou snorts at the name, scarlet eyes snapping toward you before settling back on the road. “Don’t need to show ‘em my car to take ‘em for a ride,” he answers snidely, a sharp canine gleaming at you from his smirk.

You don’t acknowledge his reply, one arm crossed over your chest and the other gripping the side of the door harshly as the city flies by outside the windows. You wonder where he’s taking you, because he never asked for your address, but you sure as hell aren’t going to start up a conversation again with that dickwad, so you just simmer in your displeasure instead.

The ride is surprisingly smooth and you would never admit it, but the feeling of him stepping on the acceleration makes your heart thud, adrenaline coursing through your veins and washing over you. You try your best to hide your excitement with every boost of speed, but you don’t catch Bakugou’s eyes lingering on your tiny smile every time he accelerates. You almost whine when the car slows and you pull into an empty parking lot, apprehension settling in your chest as the engine cuts and you’re left in silence, with him. A public park stretches before the lot, empty swings and monkey-bars twirling leisurely in the wind.

He doesn’t say a word, so after an incredibly long and awkward minute you break the ice. “Bakugou… what are we doing here?” You turn to him expectantly, lips melting back into a frown as you give him a once-over. He’s still in that tank top, which you curse for being a part of his hero costume. Why the hell did he have to choose something so flattering?

The blonde casts a side glance at you, leaning back slightly in his seat. “Wanted to have a chat with ‘ya,” he says, turning to look at you fully. The car seems like it is not big enough, for he’s only a short distance away from you and looking handsome as ever. The park before the windshield is illuminated by only the moon and starlight, casting a soft glow onto his smooth skin. The stubble on his jaw scatters tiny shadows across his chin, and those scarlet eyes peer into yours deeply. The moment is full of unrestrained tension, until he speaks again. “Coulda done this in the garage but your stubborn ass wouldn’t gimme the time of day,” he grumbles, effectively releasing you from his trance.

You blink and look away before returning your attention to him, a sour expression on your face. “Okay, dipshit, what did you wanna talk about?” You huff, arms crossing over your chest defensively. So you might have gotten yourself into this, but only a tiny bit.

You’re left hanging, expectantly eyeing him with a measured gaze. His eyes are locked with yours, but his mouth doesn’t move, not a semblance of a word on his lips. You give him that ‘eyes widening and head jutting forward, I’m waiting for you to talk’ look, but still he’s quiet. Tossing your hair over your shoulder impatiently, you let out a frustrated sigh as you close your eyes. “Look,” you start, turning back to him ready to flame his ass, “I don’t—”

Bakugou’s lips are on yours, his hands clutching your jaw and pushing your mouth into his while he leans forward over the console between the seats. A moan tears from your lungs, the familiar scent of caramel crashing over you as he fills up your senses, fingertips weaving into the hair behind your ears. His tongue thrusts into your mouth, greeting yours like a lover desperate to hold his beloved, caressing and rolling and dancing.

Suddenly your hands are on him, one around his back and pressing him toward you while the other threads through his silky soft tresses. A groan rumbles out of him as you pull against his scalp, one of his hands slipping down the back of your head to hold where your neck meets your shoulders, squeezing the sides of your throat gently. An embarrassing mewl floats out of you at that, a string of saliva connecting your mouths as you both gasp for breath.

His red eyes twinkle at you mockingly, a sultry snarl on his lips. But Bakugou doesn’t dare say a word, instead claiming your lips again with his own, sucking in your bottom lip and biting gently with his pointy canines. The hand on your neck remains strong, while his other hand slithers down your chest, groping your breast with enthusiasm and his thumb roving over your already-hard nipple, which he can feel through the fabric of your skin-tight hero costume and bra. He moans at the discovery, fingers eagerly flying to your side and unraveling the zipper there, watching as the skin of your exposed chest becomes illuminated in a mixture of moonlight and the green glow emanating from beneath the seats. Tugging the wire to rest atop your tits, he nearly growls at the sight of them, diving face-first toward you and wrapping his mouth around a nipple. You buck into him, falling back uncomfortably onto the door, but he just crawls onto his seat and leans further into you, red eyes darting up to catch your wanton expression.

Desperately gripping at the shreds of your sanity, a tiny part of you screams out at the wrongness of the situation. “We shouldn't… fuck, Bakug— ohhh,” you whimper as he nibbles at you, your heart rate skyrocketing in desire as you close your eyes, trapping your trembling lip between your teeth. The rationale is pushed away, the only thing you can pay attention to being the way Bakugou’s mouth feels latched onto you, and the hand traveling down your torso to tease between your legs. His rough fingers prod at your cunt through your leotard, expertly locating your clit through the cloth and focusing extra attention there. Simmering tendrils of heat burst through you and you cry out, legs weakly drawing his wide frame closer to you.

After a moment Bakugou sits back in his seat, pulling you with him. It’s a little rocky, not a perfect transition, but you make your way to sit on his lap nonetheless. His large hands palm your tits roughly, pinching your nipples as his tongue wrestles with yours, your moans leaking into his mouth. His body jerks in surprise as your hips begin to roll against his, and you can feel just how bad he wants this too, rubbing into you against your thigh. It only makes him touch you harder, leaning down slightly and becoming lost in the heated kiss. A hand trails down your waist to grab a handful of your ass, cupping the flesh before he slaps it harshly, then holding it in his palm again as his fingers dig into your skin. He drinks up every noise you release, like a starved man receiving his first meal in forever. He pulls away to kiss down your neck, tongue licking a stripe down your throat before his warm mouth lands on your skin, nipping and lathering and sucking.

“This is,” you gasp, coming up for air and that scrap of sanity surfacing in your mind again, “We shouldn’t be doing this, we— we said that last time was the, ahuh-ahh, last… last time.”

Bakugou sucks harder against your neck, his hands on either ass cheek and pulling your bottom against him. The friction of his cock against your core, even with your clothes separating you, makes your head spin and your voice die out. “You want me to stop, hah?” He grumbles against your throat, slick with his saliva. He rolls your hips against his particularly hard, and your hand reaches out to latch onto his shoulder as your pussy twinges in your panties.

You cannot reply, only a high-pitched whimper tumbles out of you because suddenly he’s pushing aside your leotard and panties, digits dipping into your humiliatingly wet entrance. His fingers easily glide up and down your slit, thumb flicking cruelly against your clit as you double over, nails breaching the skin on his shoulders.

“Doesn’t seem like you know what you want,” he comments, voice gravelly and timbre. His other hand rests on your hip, keeping you from grinding against him. He’s looking up at you, eyes darkened with lust and that haughty grin splitting his lips.

You glare at him, eyebrow twitching at his torment, mouth wavering as his fingers continue to tease along your sopping folds. After being with him so many times, you know what he’s waiting for, but you’re absolutely torn; a moth drawn to the flame yet wary of being burnt. “Please, Bakugou,” you murmur, eyes begging him to give you more.

Bakugou’s brow quirks upright, a single knuckle pushing into you and rubbing against your velvet walls. “Please, what, Princess?” He drawls out, almost purring at having you in his favorite position. That being, you, desperate for his touch.

You groan, throwing your head back as another knuckle slides inside, two wide fingertips stretching your cunt so infuriatingly shallowly. You try to move your hips but his grip is iron on your waist, and a long whine falls out of your mouth. “Just— Pleaseee Katsuki,” you beg, not wanting to say the words he truly wants, but not giving him nothing as his name leaves your lips so seductively.

His nostrils flare as he exhales, shifting underneath you as you feel his cock twitch against your leg. “I thought you wanted me to stop?” He growls, tone low enough you can feel his words shake his lungs. They shake something within you, too.

“No,” you breathe out, placing your lips softly against his before pulling away, your eyes boring into his, “I want this, I want you so bad.”

Bakugou groans as he drives his fingers into you knuckle-deep, curling his fingertips and rubbing against your insides. You moan like a whore at the sensation, his thumb still working on your clit clumsily as he pumps his fingers into you. His lips capture yours again, the hand on your hip jumping up to grab onto your neck again and push your lips harder onto his.

A searing heat ebbs through your body as his digits dutifully work within you, and you can’t help but begin to drop your hips against his hand, grinding onto his fingers without restraint. Bakugou clearly appreciates that, a loud moan ripping out of his lungs at the novelty and his fingers press harder into you, colliding into that spongy spot deep inside. You sob at the intensity, pleasure wracking through you as the angle only makes it easier for him to hit that spot— again, and again, and again— until white shapes flash before your eyes and you’re clutching onto him, screaming out as ecstasy thrums through your entire being.

After a minute of your pussy fluttering around him, Bakugou’s fingers pull out of you, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you like you’re the hottest person on the planet. “Fuck,” he snarls, lip twitching as he lifts his hips, tugging down his black pants and briefs half-way down his thighs. His heavy cock smacks against his abdomen, looking pale and pretty in the low lighting, glistening with a bead of pre rolling down the side of his length.

You lick your lips at the sight, the desire to shove him into your mouth overcoming you. Bakugou catches your reaction, a low chuckle reverberating his chest and making you glance at him. “I wanna suck you off,” you say quietly, looking over to the passenger seat and wondering if you could do it from that position, because you certainly can’t do it from where you are now.

“Thas’kay Princess,” he mumbles, grabbing your chin and forcing your lips to meet his once again. His tongue glides over your lip slowly, his other hand smacking your ass roughly before he grabs the inside of your thigh, spreading you above him. “That can wait. Need you right now.”

His words send a different kind of shiver down your spine— the kind that was the whole reason why you’d told yourself you needed to stop fucking him in the first place. But right now, in this moment, there is no way you’re not going to fuck him. You’d already come this far, you might as well just indulge yourself in him.

So you do, and you both let out a breath of satisfaction as you rub your dripping cunt against the underside of his length. You lather him up, slickening his member in your arousal from back to front before you press your lips onto his, soft but passionate, and you welcome him inside with ease.

Bakugou’s head falls back onto the headrest as his hands lay slack on your hips. He’s reclined, but his red eyes jump between your face, your tits, and your cunt that sucks him up so greedily as you begin to bounce above him. His mouth hangs open slightly as you find your rhythm, your hands ripping up the bottom of his tank top to lay your palms on his chest and his abs, a thumb scratching through his kept and dark happy trail. “Hah— fuck, Y/NNN,” he moans, closing his eyes to succumb to the pleasure for a moment before he forces them back open, refusing to miss out on such a dreamy sight. Memorizing your body, willing himself to remember each moan and blissful expression you give, storing it away so he can burn them into his spank bank.

Once he’s had his fill of the wondrous sight, he sits up, mouth sucking in your nipple as his hands still your hips, grabbing the flesh there and wiggling to adjust himself underneath you. Ecstasy shoots through you as he takes the lead, thrusting up harshly to prod deep inside your womb, stretching you out and rubbing so deliciously against your g-spot. “Oh, god, Katsuki,” you wheeze as he just goes faster, thick and muscular thighs providing enough means to continue like this for who knows how long. Just as you begin to feel your orgasm build once again, his pace slows, and you’re about to complain before a long finger is thrust into your mouth.

Bakugou groans as your tongue coats the digit in spit, not needing instruction. “You gonna be a good girl for me, Princess?” He questions before he takes the finger out.

Your arms fold around his neck as you nod and kiss him again, drunk on his lips and his touch. He welcomes the tender moment, a hand planting on your ass and spreading you again before his wet finger meets your asshole, making you jump into him with wide eyes. “Ka—”

His lips pull you back in, silencing your hesitance as he begins to thrust his cock up into you again, pace measured and slow. The roll of his hips provides a new type of pleasure as his cock drags against your inner walls, your clit rolling on his pelvis. You quiver on top of him, hole puckering as his finger rubs around your rim. You whimper when he pushes inside, the small stretch foreign and stinging. But he doesn’t push it any further, just continues to lazily grind up inside of you, his tongue playing with yours. He only breaks away to whisper praise to you that makes your pussy shiver around him, “Good girl, you’re sucha good girl Y/N.”

Before long the digit is up to the second knuckle, and you’re a moaning mess above him. The feeling of his finger in your ass, with his cock stretching and pushing in and out of you— it has your eyes crossing in pleasure. The thin wall separating his cock and his finger continues to rub exquisitely on both sides, sending waves of fuzzy bliss coursing through your limbs.

The extra penetration seems to also be affecting Bakugou, for his thrusts begin to pick up as he starts slapping up into you with renewed ferocity. The stimulation from your pussy and your clit already have you clenching, but then he starts to push his finger in and out of your ass slowly, and you’re holding onto him for dear life, your head on his shoulder as you mewl into his neck. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and so can Bakugou, who nuzzles your face a bit before he kisses you again. Your lips dance sloppily, your body jostling as he pounds into you from below, and you begin to whimper as your cunt tightens around his cock.

“Still want me to stop?” He hisses, rough palm clapping across your ass cheek.

“Fuck no,” you pant, planting your knees on the seat beside his thighs and bucking up and down in tune with his pace.

Bakugou groans at your initiative, knuckle sliding deeper inside of you and gauging your reaction as your shudder against him in pleasure. “You like a finger in the ass, hah? Fucking slut,” he snarls as he rubs the digit inside of you, eliciting a low moan from the depths of your lungs.

You’re bouncing on his lap as best as you can, your head skimming the top of the car’s interior while you claw at his shoulders. “God, Katsuki, mphhh—” The added pressure of you sinking down as he ruts up is almost enough for you to cum, and Bakugou knows exactly how close to the finish line you are, grabbing your jaw and tugging your face to hang directly in front of his.

You brow furrows and your heartbeat hastens at the intimacy, passion crackling between the pair of you as his vermillion orbs burn into you. You don’t want to let him see such a vulnerable part of you, but he starts to slam into that spot deep inside of you mercilessly, determined to show you how good he can make you feel. Your orgasm tears through you and an overwhelming heat blasts into your body like wildfire through dry grass. A broken shriek releases from you as your eyes slam shut, limbs shaking, nails diving into his traps, and toes curling in your shoes.

Bakugou gasps as you constrict around him, moving his hands to clasp onto your hips tightly, throwing your body down to meet his as he pistons into you. Skull falling backwards limply, your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, his actions dragging out your mind-numbing climax delightfully long. He launches at the exposed skin of your neck, teeth sinking into your throat hard enough to leave dark bruises there, moaning shamelessly into your flesh as his thrusts become quicker, needier. “S-Shit, where should I— ‘m gonna—”

Your fingers rush to his hair, snapping his head backwards and his eyes widen in surprise, but you smother his open mouth with yours immediately, your tongue plunging into his wet cavern and claiming him as your own. Your hips hurl onto his with finality and the blonde stiffens beneath you, trembling fingers pressing into your skin. A loud groan rattles both of your bodies as his load spills into you, coating your womb in his sticky release as you continue to drop onto his searing cock slowly. When he comes down from his high he squeezes your waist gently to signal you to stop, sitting back with his jaw hung open slightly, laboured and choppy breaths making his sculpted chest rise and fall sharply.

You let him pull you into his embrace, his large biceps caging you against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. It’s peaceful laying in his arms, the post-orgasm bliss thriving and filling the entire cabin of the vehicle in a hot and sweet scent. Or maybe that was just Bakugou— you subtly sniff his skin and smile, the caramel-like aroma from his exertion wafting off of him. He’s warm, and somehow even though his muscles are rock-hard beneath you, his embrace is soft. You nuzzle into his neck as his fingers glide over your moist back, arms locked around your waist.

Neither of you say a word, two heartbeats thumping rapidly against each other as you enjoy each other’s presence. The both of you desperately cling to this moment of serenity, knowing that soon enough you’ll have to go back to normal, and this will have just been another “last time.”  

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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no one asked for this but i did it anyway 🤪🤪 happy birthday blasty 💥💚🧡

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[scullysexual]

s8- post existence; morning came too soon

part 2 to this | t | second person mulder pov | season 8- post existence | wc: 777 | @today-in-fic | ao3

I'd reccommend reading Morning Don't Come before this.

- - -

Morning Came Too Soon.

The sun has risen. The birds are chirping. You know it’s time to go.

Scully lays on you, her arms wrapped around you tight. You know what she’s doing; making sure you keep your promise.

You brush a fallen piece of hair out of the way and realise, not for the first time, that you don’t want to go.

But you know you must. You just wish morning hadn’t come so soon.

A soft cry from the bedroom alerts you. You’re about to untangle yourself from Scully and see to William yourself when Scully stirs.

You’re amazed. It used to take a lot to get Scully up now all a baby needs to do is cry quietly and there she is waking.

You suppose it makes sense; some calling inside her waking her up.

She miles up at you, groggy from sleep. Your heart lifts at the sight. You never did see enough early morning smiles, you think.

Scully’s eyes widen then as realisation crosses over them.

“You stayed!”

You smile, nodding, fingers combing through her hair.

“Exactly as I promised.”

She continues to smile until her face falls. She looks towards the windows, to where the sun peeps through the curtains, reminding you both of your little time left.

“Will you stay for a little longer?” she asks and you hear the hint of plea in her voice. It ends all arguments. Against better judgement you stay.

She’s feeding William when you enter the bedroom. Your bags are packed, waiting for you by the front door, time ticking away.

You watch them, feeling a surge of protectiveness run through you. They’re yours, you think and it brings a smile to your face. Yours to keep safe.

So why are you running away?

You swallow and shift, batting that thought away. There was no room for those thoughts today. Your running is protecting them.

“He’ll be done in a minute,” she says.

“Then he’ll go back to sleep?”

She laughs. You haven’t heard her laugh in so long it stops you for a moment.

“That’s all he ever does.”

She places William down in his crib and wanders over to you. You open your arms and she goes there willingly, her face hidden in your chest. Your arms go around her holding her as tight as she holds you.

“It feels like I only just got you back.”

I know, you think. Three months. Three months and you’re gone again.

You say nothing, thinking, not for the first time, that you don’t really want to go.

You bury your head in her neck, lips coming into contact with her skin. You haven’t touched her since the night before you were taken, almost a year ago. That’s so long. So long to go without touching the person who is just an extension of you.

“Scully,” you say as need suddenly grips you. Your hands start exploring, imploring, requesting.

“It’s too soon,” she says and you can hear her own disappointment laced within her voice.

“But I can give you…something,” she adds.

Your eyes close, wishing yes.

“On one condition.”

Anything.

“You can’t wake our baby.”

Like some siren of the deep she pulled you in. Lured you in with her song and beauty and at the last second ripping you to pieces.

You resurfaced, shredded skin and new self. You resurfaced, changed.

You lie with your head cradled on her chest, face mushed against the soft skin of the breasts. The same she uses to feed your child.

Her apartment isn’t so scary now, with curtains draw, the sun casting the room in orange.

But it’s deceptive. They could bash that door down at any time.

“I have something else to give you,” she says quietly.

You pull your head up, feeling dazed.

“More?”

She smiles, pulling over her drawer. A cut piece of fabric is presented to you.

“It’s from a pillowcase. I- I washed it. I…” she bows her head, red cheeked, thoroughly embarrassed. “It’s silly.”

You reach over and take the gift from her. Bringing it up to your nose, inhaling the scent of her fabric softener, of Scully. A reminder.

“Thank you, Scully.”

You kiss her, savouring the feel, the taste. Her nails dig into your forearms, keeping you there until they release, allowing you to go.

Your foreheads rest against each other’s.

“You should go,” she says and you nod. “I’ll meet you by the door.”

You nod again, remembering how many times she said those exact words to you when you’d stay over on a worknight.

You look towards the curtains deciding, not for the first time, that morning came too soon.

[danddymaro]

Playing with fire | Loki x Reader

Includes Enhanced Reader W/ fire manipulation, and a temper.

Basically Loki Being an Ass

Word Count : 2393

Playing with Fire

She smiled with satisfaction as she continued to clean the counter in small circles, the little powder blue rag leaving the surface with a nice shine that filled her with pride.

All the while, sweet, soft hums of happiness left her as she saw the lovely surface slowly bouncing the sight of what seemed like her reflection.

“You’ve certainly outdone yourself this time (f/n),” she said lowly, grinning at her work with fulfillment, executing joy-filled little claps as a mild cheer that lasted only a few seconds before she went back to work.

Tony walked past the doorway but whirled around as he caught sight of her, tisking at the sight, because, 

how many times has he told her now?

“- I told you, you don't have to do that,” He said with exasperation, pouting down at her as he coolly walked over to her, “ You don't have to pick up a finger here.” He continued, making himself comfortable by leaning his elbows onto the counter, looking at her with tired dark eyes throughout the entire time,

“In fact, even the toile-”

She stopped him by lifting up her hand in a halt sign, the other maintaining the same circular motion,

“I want to,” she said simply, looking over to him with a soft smile that was filled with peace. “It makes me happy,” she added with pleading (e/c) eyes, hoping he’d drop the argument.

“It brings me peace, so please... drop it?” she asked him, giving him the same sweet, begging eyes.

Rolling own his eyes, Stark shrugged, a heavy sigh accompanying the action, “I guess,” He mumbled, displeased nonetheless.

“If you continued to do it after the first few times, I don't know why I keep trying to convince you otherwise,” he added, a halfhearted glare directed at her, “Just don’t overwork yourself,” he pleaded her.

“ - I feel bad enough having you slaving around her,” he murmured with a sheepish upturn of his mouth.

Granted, he appreciated how tenderly she treated their home, but it was to the extent that he felt guilty, almost like he was taking advantage of her.

“Slaving?” she said with a quirked brow, “You have your drinking, and I have my cleaning… yet I’m the one in the wrong?” she said back to him, chuckling all while she shook her head, giggling even more as she saw his expression change at her words, a toothy grin etched onto his face as his eyes were squinted playfully,

“Really Red Hot?” He snickered, watching as she rolled her eyes at the address.

He opened his mouth to speak more when another voice cut through their merriment,

“Ah, Servant Girl,” Loki called out, beckoning the woman to go to him with a lift of his finger, causing her to instantly drop her happy, little expression down south,

“Servant...girl...?” she lowly, all while shooting the man a quick look that dared him to repeat the phrase.

“Yes. servant girl," The long-haired male said in a snobbish manner, “ Did I not just call you?” He questioned her, and by then the little rag in her hand combusted.

‘What is with this guy?’ She wondered while irked.

A seething hot glare was shot directly at the dark-haired prince as she destroyed her little rag, and it gave her all the more reason to be angry.

“Oh no, “ stark muttered, quickly placing a hand to her shoulder, directing her attention from Loki’s lasting gaze and turning her over to him instead,

“ he’s not worth blowing your cap off, just relax,” he advised feeling a cold sweat running down his forehead as his palms that had landed over her shoulders began to grow warmer, indicating that her temperature was rising.

He could feel her body begin to increase in heat, and he had to act fast, taking her mind off of the annoyance that triggered her,

“You don't want to ruin this pretty kitchen do you?” he asked anxiously, sweeping his arm to offer her the grand view of the luxury space.

“Besides...I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.” He further explained, hoping that it was the case, but not entirely too certain about it because after all, it was Loki.

-The same Loki that had in the past bated the Hulk out of Banner.

It was then that her ( e/c) eyes swept left and right to the little place she had dubbed her ‘safe space’ and after a good moment of reflection, she closed her eyes tightly, her harsh pants coming down to mellowing breathes that were both inhaled and exhaled through her nostrils.

“There we go, “ Tony said smiling with relief.

She gritted her teeth, “Okay...I’m fine..” She told him, soon releasing a low breath that seemed to make her deflate, her tense muscles with the blow of air.

“You sure?” he asked her, uncertain.

“Yeah,” She responded back with a lax voice, a slow smile beginning to pave way onto her face, “Sorry about that, “ She said sheepishly, her face glowing as she’d calmed to a state where she was easier to reason with.

‘Gotta be nice,’ She told herself. ‘Technically he’s a guest. One who’s not from here,’ She reasoned.

She then turned back to the prince, the same sweet expression present as she approached him, truly hoping he didn’t get the wrong impression of her.

‘I’m not a horrible person, you have to believe me,’ She thought to herself, ‘It’s just...sometimes...I’m too passionate.’ She went on.

‘I’m really sorry,’ She added while releasing a calmed breath, ‘You didn’t know any better,’ She mused, ‘I don’t know what got over me.’ 

“I’m so sorry about that,” She said with humility, nearly close to bowing her head in shame with how embarrassed she was.

“I’m (f/n) (l/n),” She introduced herself, her weary smile easing into a true, amiable grin.

 She then extended her hand out to him, kindly offering it,

“ I’m a part of the A-”

“- Avengers,” He finished for her, “Yes, I know,” He said while grinning at her, the words falling onto her and causing her to freeze, numbness soon overwhelming her as he took her hand.

‘He knows…’ She thought to herself, ‘Which means,’ She then droned on,

 ‘Which means he PURPOSELY called me that,’ She went on, the gears of her brain working at max capacity, coming to the conclusion in a manner of seconds.

 All while her face began to twitch with annoyance, she could see him slowly form a grin of amusement, one she took in with insult,

‘He thinks he’s so cute…’ She went on, soon glaring at him, ‘What’s his damn problem?!’ She added, hearing him chuckle, the sound of his velvety voice producing such an aggravating, yet warm sound that it frazzled her.

‘He’s doing this on purpose,’ She concluded, watching as every twitch of her face made his eyes glow furthermore, the gems married with amusement.

‘He’s trying to… to,’ stopping herself she bit her tongue, not knowing what his true aim was,  

‘What the hell is he even trying to do, get on my damn nerves?!’ She wondered with dismay.

‘So, You think it’s that easy huh?

You think I’m just some hotheaded punk that can’t stay fucking...uuugggggghhhhhhhh!’ She inwardly shrieked, fighting against the nature she assumed he wanted to become a spectator of.

‘I want to just wipe that stupid grin off his face!’ She thought with malice, ‘But if I do, the pretty boy wins,‘ She contemplated, her mind viscously jumbled, and throughout it all, much to her pleasure, she managed to hold herself steady, not letting the fiery strength take over.

“I hope I get to see more of you!” She chirped back, shoving out the words, subconsciously squeezing his hand.

‘- No I don’t,’ She inwardly added, wanting to wring his neck instead.

“I just know we’ll get along,” She then added with the same glee.

‘- I want you acres from me,’ She maundered darkly.

At the first elated peep, Loki’s brows rose, a chuckle escaping him as he eyed the saccharine smile that was in stark contrast to her vicious (e/c) colored eyes that clearly showed disdain, and it only gave him more reason to fuel her flame.

“(f/n) (l/n),” He then said, taking her warm hand in his before laying a little kiss to her first knuckle,

“A pleasure,“ He told her, enjoying the way her face morphed into complete, and utter shock that left her doe-eyed.

She was then left blubbering, her brain nearly fried by the simple action, not knowing how to take it,

‘Wh-who does he… think he is?’ she asked herself, unsure of just how to feel.

‘No one’s ever done that before,’ She thought to herself, ‘But that doesn’t mean i enjoyed it,’ She then added.

‘I just got caught off guard!’ She reasoned.

Tony chuckled lowly, having only seen the other man’s face throughout the entire exchange in greetings, completely missing her annoyed tick as well as her withheld aggression, only catching sight of the glowing enjoyment in the other man's eyes.

“I hope to see more of you,” Loki then added, withdrawing, and leaving her stunned.

‘Why...Why did he even want me in the first place?’ She asked herself, unsure of what had even transpired between them.

“- Looks like Reindeer Games likes you,” Tony then mused aloud, and it did nothing to help her.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The man alternated between bitter and sweet. 

He was charming even when he was a nuisance, and she detested the way he easily tweaked her. 

Anything he did was sure to make heat rise within her, from his annoying pestering that brought her close to combustion, to the sweet, charming second nature that made her face glow.

He pushed her on edge in more ways than one, and it made it all the more frustrating when he went out of his way to bother her, because sometimes she wanted to choke him, and other times,

‘Other times… I just want to...to do things with you that I don't even understand,’ She thought helplessly, having never felt so bothered by another being.

She was grateful to have learned how to properly control her powers to the degree that most of what he threw at her was shot back with sweetness,

‘Kill ‘em with kindness,’ That was the motto that, and until then, she’d followed to a T. 

But, everything had its breaking point, and as the second month rolled by she found hers,

“ Call me servant girl again you little shit,” She sneered, holding up a tightened fist before him, the little ball shaking with the furiousness she felt.

“ Oh? and what will you do, if I do ... little, servant girl?” he said snickering, nearing her with a confident strut, “Are you going to strike me?” He said while grinning, his two hands held behind his back as he leaned towards her, extending his jaw out subtly, all in a manner that dared her to do so,

“ Because I’d just love to see you try,” he said lowly, challenging her, his emerald eyes glowing as he looked down at her.

 Her already accelerated heart jumped at the glance, forcing a gasp out of her, one she was aware he found amusement in by the sly way he continued to tease her.

Her lips then twitched upwards, not in a show of amusement, but instead a nagging annoyance before she swung at him, which, of course, went straight through him.

“My...You're quite hot-headed,” he said while observing her, making her whip around to him with eyes that glowed just as fiercely as his did,

‘ Hot-headed…

Hot-head…’

She repeated the name over and over, detesting it.

The little nickname made her insides bubble, and as she dwelled in the nickname her body erupted into a heap of flames,

“I AM NOT HOTI-HEADED, IM CALM AND SERENE AND A FRUCKING DELIGHT!”

She screeched, launching herself towards him.

“- All of that foul language.." he muttered, his left hand capturing her wrist in a strong grip, soon pulling her to him before he spun her, forcing her back to his chest.

His right hand then gripped her lower jaw, holding it in a manner that made her lips pucker,

“Such a pretty mouth, and yet such ugly words,” he said amused, releasing the same sweet chuckle that made her insides bubble.

“- I hate you so much,” she said lowly, squirming all the while.

It was rare to be captured, much more, held down by someone else while in her current state, and while it scathed her, it touched her in a way that was indescribable,

‘Do you know how many people have run from me?’ She silently asked him, wondering just why he played with her so much, when she could lose control at any moment.

‘Do you know how many people I’ve hurt?’ She then added, shrinking with a touch of sadness at the remembrance, because she never forgot.

‘Because I’m this way…

Because no matter what I do… I always end up burning…’

“I hate you… so much,” She said in a weaker voice, wearing a small smile that held just a touch of fondness,

‘I hate you for being able to handle me...even at my worst.

I hate you for making me feel so small and weak next to you.

I hate always thinking about you.’

A low, sweet chuckle left him, and during then he wore a teasing little smirk she couldn't see, but could vividly imagine, because she had it ingrained in her mind.

“Ah…” He breathed, “ A shame…,” He murmured, “I love to play with your flame.” He admitted. 

“Your heat...” he then uttered, before falling into silence. His hold and presence disappeared all at once, leaving her wide-eyed and surprised, her face burning with embarrassment.

She whipped around, spinning like a curious dog chasing its tail, her eyes searching for the man with wide-eyed innocence.

“I just can’t stand him, “ She murmured, fuming, by then having been subdued into a less agitated state.

‘Because I can’t think of anything but him.

I want him to play with me as much as he wants, shape me in every way I can be molded.

Loki...why are you so unbearable....so unforgettable?’

[tiny-cloud-dragon]

Tiny Cloud Dragon Headcanons - Christmas

It's his first ever Christmas, and his four dads go all out

Zack spends three hours out in the forest looking for the perfect tree. Perfectly cone shaped, with a small gap on one side so you know which side to put towards the wall.

Angeal goes shopping for the cutest mercury glass ornaments he can find. Regular ball ornaments are not good enough for Tiny Cloud dragon's first Christmas!

Genesis is in charge of decorating the appartment. Every light, garland, and bow is perfectly placed, and you had better not even breathe on his elaborate christmas village!

Sephiroth is in charge of wrapping gifts. No one can knife-edge a crease like Sephiroth. Odd-shaped, soft, lopsided, boxed...each gift is perfectly wrapped with precision, and most importantly, invisible seams/ends. The gifts are then hidden in Angeal's cleaning supply closet, which has child-proof locks

Decorating the tree takes over an hour. The lights have to be wound around at the correct distance from each previous round. Each ornament is placed on the tree, then an argument ensues about its placement. Then comes the argument over which type of garland would look best

Finally, the battle over whether tinsel icicles will go on the tree. Sephiroth is staunchly against them. He admits that they are pretty, and fun to put on, but then comes the deep regret for your design decision when it's time to take them off and you are still picking them out of the carpet two weeks later

Angeal and Zack both vote Nay, as visions of a tangled up Tiny Cloud dragon dance through their heads

Christmas Eve is spent wearing ugly Christmas sweaters, a crash course on Santa Clause, sipping hot chocolate, eating Christmas cookies and watching Tiny Cloud dragon stare delightedly at the tree and decorations.

He chirps happily and gently climbs through the christmas tree, the sparkling lights reflected in his eyes as he gazes at the pretty ornaments.

Tiny Cloud dragon explores the Christmas village, walking through it without disturbing a single piece. He almost bumps the clock tower, but moves his tail at the last second. Genesis adds a little liquor to his hot chocolate to calm his jingling nerves

Zack sits on the floor with Sephiroth and Genesis, holding Tiny Cloud dragon in his lap as Angeal reads The Night Before Christmas

A Christmas movie marathon ensues, and eventually everyone goes to bed so Santa can come and leave presents

Tiny Cloud dragon sleeps curled against Zack's neck, dreaming of lights and bells, and jolly fat elves shimmying down chimneys with sacks of toys

On Christmas morning Tiny Cloud dragon wakes and scampers out to the livingroom, chirping and peeping excitedly at all the presents under the tree

His four dads stand there watching their Smol son, taking picutres and making gleeful noises

Presents are opened in a flurry of shredded wrapping paper

Tiny Cloud dragon is delighted with the wonderful gifts Santa left

He spends a full hour batting at and scrabbling around in the piles of brightly colored wrapping paper bits, and darting in and out of the various now empty gift boxes and bags

Oh, the wonderfully crinkly sound of the tissue paper! And the bright and shiny paper scraps that make such nice rattling sound when you burrow into them! And the dark and mysterious boxes and gift bags! Santa is a truly marvelous being!

The four dads watch, dumbfounded, yet amused as the tiny dragon plays with the trash instead of the toys. Their babey would get the hang of Christmas one day.

[milkypompon]

𝕄𝕪 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕡𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖 | Zuko x Reader

𝕀𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖 | In Ba Sing Se, Zuko stumbles into Y/N, an artist. 

𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣'𝕤 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖 | Thank you to my lovely Anon for requesting this! It's been sitting in my inbox gathering dust for a bit because I've been so busy with moving into a new house. Here we are now!! I’m still slowly trying to get back into writing, so please take it easy on me.

The morning dew of Ba Sing Se adorned the growing grass along the stone paved ground. With each step closer to the well-known Jasmine Dragon tea shop, Y/N’s brushes and paints rattled inside their bag slung lazily about their shoulder. The chirping of the birds was drowned out by the early bustle of the city. But the sight of the sky wasn’t one that could simply be ignored. 

Without a second thought Y/N plopped themselves down in the middle of a street gorged with rolling carts carrying products cultured and collected by the stocky owners who heaved it around. Y/N earned looks of confusion and occasional glances of annoyance as they blocked the vendors and passer-byers.

But how? How could these people ignore the early white rays of the sun slowly catching hues of yellow as it languidly reached down onto those who lived among the earth. Reaching and stretching with open arms to feel its warmth. The heat enough to satiate the chill breeze that pricked their unclothed arms. 

The bristles of the brush was damp with the colors resembling the scenery set in front of Y/N. They glided it along the block of paper tottering on their thigh. 

Only the sound of the fraying brush swirling in ever-changing water could be heard by them. 

Only the sight of the endless sky that lay behind the glistening sun could be seen by them.

“WATCH OUT!” A gruff voice shouted and chanted the same two words that came threateningly closer to Y/N’s ears. 

A horse-bear with tattered reins hung about its large frame losely, growling and galloping at an unmatched speed. Before Y/N could even set down their painting, a body slammed into their back, sending them both tumbling forward into a cabbage cart with a body-straining thud. 

Y/N groaned, their hands clenching and unclenching subconsciously to feel their surroundings. 

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” A black haired boy towered over them. He threw his arms into the air in frustration.

“Yeah! What he said!” Spat the cabbage vendor in annoyance.

Y/N slowly propped themselves up with their elbows. Their eyes grew as wide as the cabbages as they took in the unraveling scene.

“MY ART SUPPLIES!” Y/N scrambled up, almost slipping on their own two feet. They took a quick step forward, but was stopped by a strong grip around their wrist.

Y/N’s head whipped back in surprise, they were met with amber eyes hidden behind furrowed brows and tousled hair. “Not even a thank you?” He cocked up his eyebrow. 

“I- Sorry! I mean thank you!” Y/N craned their neck down in embarrassment, they could feel an intense heat crawling up their body. 

He awkwardly patted the top of Y/N’s head. “Oh- okay, no need for formalities,” the boy hummed.

Y/N slowly straightened up, suddenly feeling small under his gaze. “Let me at least thank you with a meal!” they chirped.

“How about my apology meal for the cabbages you ruined!” The cabbage vendor peeked over the boy’s shoulder to give Y/N an exasperated look. 

“Usually, people ask for my name before they take me out on a date,” he chuckled teasingly.

“N-no!” Y/N’s hand shot up in a halt motion. “I mean unless you want it to be…” they muttered to themselves.  

A faint dusting of pink spread onto his cheeks, “Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind it!”

Y/N, completely enthralled by his softening features, forgot about their art supplies sitting in a wrecked state on the stone floor. 

A quite pitiful sight.

He looked past Y/N, his eyes dropping down, “Oh, no… your painting!” Without much thought, the boy slipped his hand through Y/N’s to guide them to the horse-bear accident.

Y/N stiffened at the sudden contact, which wasn’t ignored by him. He turned his head back and dropped his hand, “S-sorry! Just wanted to show you what happened…”

The gentle warmth of his hand gave Y/N a sensation of warmth, it left as quickly as it came. They pulled their arm and crossed it behind their back. “Well, the damage has been done, huh?” Y/N smiled sadly as they poked the snapped brushes with the tip of their boot.

He crouched down to reach for Y/N’s painting, now mangled up into scratchy bits. Before the boy could take a good look at it, Y/N swung themselves in front of him in an attempt to hide their unfinished work. But, his nimble fingers flung it up high above his head before they could snatch it

.

“Hey! That’s mine!” Y/N puffed out their cheeks.

“I know, I know. I just wanted to see what you were painting-”

“Nothing special!” they managed to grip his arm and grab the painting.

The pair stood up. Y/N cradled their work in their hands, a deep sigh escaped their lips. The boy peered from the side. Catching his peeping eyes, Y/N hugged it into their chest.

Zuko scratched the back of his neck, “Y’know just because it seems ruined in your eyes, it doesn’t mean that it’s not a masterpiece to mine.”

Y/N mumbled a “thanks” before turning around to meet his bright eyes. “I’m Y/N by the way…” they said in a small voice, recollecting the early moments of their first encounter.

“Lee,” he offered a hand for Y/N to shake, but instead, Zuko snatched the painting from their arms and tucked it inside his robe. “I’ll take this for compensation!” He grinned light-heartedly.

Y/N rolled their eyes, “I don’t know why you’d want that, but alright… Anyways, the offer still stands for the meal just because I’m feeling generous today.”

Zuko smirked, “Are you feeling extra generous to officiate it into a date?”

They quickly averted their eyes and mumbled, “I thought it was already implied.”

-

“Knock, knock!” Y/N chirped as they approached the Jasmine Dragon dimly lit, signaling their closure for the night.

The sound of clambering dishware and squeaky shoes echoed through the tea shop. There were no people save for the old man at the opposite end of the green carpet, who greeted Y/N with a small wave. Zuko, who creased down his robe, approached them at a hasty speed.

“H-Hey!” He said a little strained. The old man elbowed Zuko’s side, earning him a groan.

The pair bowed at Y/N. “You must be my nephew’s date tonight. My name is Mushu, but you may call me Uncle!” He gave the young teenager a bright smile. 

“Well, I’ll leave ya at it, Nephew!” Iroh cackled as he held his belly. Zuko groaned once again. “And, close up for the night will ya?” He tossed a single golden key with the Jasmine Dragon logo engraved into the head of it.

The pair watched the old man trot to the wooden doors, closing it, but leaving a gap big enough only for them to see his smirk. 

“BYE UNCLE!” Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose.

Y/N giggle into their hand, “You must be really close with Uncle Mushu, huh?” 

Zuko looked up at them, his face softened as he subconsciously studied their face. He stared at how their lips turned up at any word he said and the way their nose scrunched when they laughed. But what interested him the most was when Y/N’s cheeks changed   just the slightest hue whenever they smiled. 

“Y’know this isn’t much of me repaying you if you’re gonna be serving me your tea,” Y/N tilted their head.

Zuko mindlessly slipped their hand into Y/N’s, making them tense up once again.

“I- Sorry, it’s just your hand is so soft and it feels cool when I touch it because mine are always warm all the time. Are mine sweaty? Maybe it’s just getting hot-” Zuko pulled back his hand.

Y/N caught his eye and slipped their hand into his. “Don’t worry, it feels right as it should be.”

“W-Well, going back to what we were talking about…” Zuko led Y/N to a table for two and pulled out a finely carved wooden chair that could sit even the King himself. “How about you pay me in a different way?”

The pair both realized what Zuko implied, causing his face to seer over. He slammed his hands down, making Y/N flinch, “Just, uh, wait here!” He trotted to the back of the tea shop.

Y/N leaned into their hands, their elbows on the table supporting their dropping frame. They groaned in exasperation. 

I thought my first encounter with this boy set the highest bar of my awkwardness, but now I think this ‘date’ brought it up even higher… People make it so easy in those Ba Sing Se cartoons I watch with freakishly large eyes.

Fumbling footsteps approached Y/N, who creased their robe down and clasped their hands together onto their lap. Zuko held a rectangular box wrapped in brown paper. Setting it down on the table, he pulled out a chair across from Y/N.

Zuko rested his chin on his hand, he looked at Y/N with glimmering eyes. A look of interest and adoration seeped through his face, anyone could’ve seen it, whether he was hiding it or not. He’s only given this face to his Uncle, whom he respected and loved with a full heart.

His long fingers tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear nervously. “What are you waiting for? Open it!” Zuko huffed, “Guess I’ll open it myself!” He slipped his hand over the package.

Still stunned at the unexpected gift Y/N received, they took no action until they heard the first rip of the wrapping paper. “No! I can do it!” Y/N shouted a little too loudly, “I mean, I’ll open it.” Hastily, they tore it apart, the clambering of wooden handles of new brushes and a soft thud of a watercolor block and paints echoed through the tea shop.

Zuko grinned at the sight of Y/N’s face as it glowed with happiness. It looked as if he’d received a new set of art supplies as well.

A sudden wave of guilt washed over Y/N, their upturned smile quickly diminished.

“Huh… What’s wrong? Are these not the ones you had? Did you want a different brand-” Zuko scooped up the art supplies, which was stopped by Y/N’s gentle hand.

“I can’t accept this! Or at least let me pay for it,” Y/N bargained.

Zuko set the gift down, offering them a soft smile. “This is what I was talking about earlier. Will you paint something for me? Could be anything you like.”

“Y-you’d really like that?” Y/N sheepishly asked.

“More than anything…” Zuko cautiously entwined his fingers into Y/N’s, this time Y/N returned it with a gentle squeeze.

“Well, then how about I paint you?” 

Zuko was stunned. He rambled, “M-me? Why? I’m not the most pleasing to look at to be honest. I’ve got a scar that’s just so distracting… That’s why I’m growing out my hair-”

Y/N stood up from their seat and leaned over the table to meet his face, bringing a hand to caress Zuko’s jaw. Y/N gave a warm peck of their lips onto the corner of his right eye. 

His mouth gaped open as they pulled back and situated themself on the seat. 

Y/N held Zuko’s gaze, “A wise boy once told me that just because something seems ruined in your eyes, it doesn’t mean that it’s not a masterpiece to mine.”

𝔼𝕟𝕕𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 | Okay, Holy Cow. I’m actually really happy with how this fic turned out bc I’ve been too physically and mentally tired lately?? I had a hard time starting this, but I decided to take the safe route and start with scenery.

Were the descriptions of scenery too much? Was the interaction between Y/N and Zuko too short-lived? Let me know!

[My taglist and links to most things are acting WONKY at the moment, if you’d like to be tagged on anything, SEND AN ASK]

[knives-out20]

Mistake -  Bobby & The Buddies

Fandom: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)

Pairings: Bobby Brightside (OC) x Cliff Booth, StarBeep, DeepSpace, Platonic!Geep,

Warnings: Swearing, Faggotry, Probably sad, The end is here, Unrealistic timeskipping because Cliff hasn’t physically changed much,

Notes: Finally, the KISS & The Buddies crossover finale is here! We can get back to normal form hereon after, woo! There may or may not be minor references to this series in future Clobby oneshots, but overall, this is it. Ramon Valdovinos is my newest OUATIC OC; faceclaimed by young Benicio Del Toro, he’s The Buddies’ manager. Enjoy!

Bobby poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he, Cliff, and the Buddies looked up at the tall members of KISS. 

For what was probably the last time- ever, or for now, was beyond him. He didn’t wanna think about it.

As long as no one insinuated the first idea (ever) to Beep and Deep, he ought to be fine. 

Bobby felt Cliff put his hand on his shoulder, the man’s touch alone helping him through whatever life was. He looked up at Starchild. “So...this is it, huh?” Bobby rhetorically asked.

Starchild tilted his head from side to side. “For the most part. With our diverging schedules and plans for our bands, we can’t take your band on tour with us. And you can’t take us with you. Besides, you weren’t gonna be our openers forever. The Buddies were bound to get separate attention sooner or later.”

Maria nodded a bit. “Fun while it lasted, though. Didn’t think the seventies could’ve been any better if our bands hadn’t crossed paths.”

“We think so, too” Gene grunted. “That’s one thing we thanked Peter for, before...y’know...”

Maria hummed in understanding, rubbing Frankie’s back.

“You sure we can’t take you guys to Australia with us?” Eric Carr, the new drummer for KISS, spoke up.

Bobby scoffed. “Ramon thinks it’s best for us to start small and work our way up. Around California, then the USA, the continent, and make our way up to a world tour” he explained.

“We’re- We’re not, like, shaming you for jumping onto a world tour, though.” Frankie held his hand sup.

“Fuck knows you guys deserve it” Peep added, eyes shining despite their dark colour.

“Thank you” Starchild smiled.

Cliff had both his hands on Bobby’s shoulders, massaging gently. “Would it make sense to thank you guys for letting Bobby’s band open for you guys these past years...?” He asked. “They were decently popular before you guys, and I feel that you kinda pushed that forward to be even more-so.”

 Starchild nodded, “it kinda would- you’re welcome.”

Bobby glanced up at Cliff, hiding a smile behind Bobby’s brown hair.

Beep, Ace, and Deep had been quiet thus far. Which was new; Ace never shut up whether it be laughing or talking, and Beep ‘n’ Deep were usually the most talkative two in the band.

Beep had his hands behind his back, feet shuffling and shifting in dead silence.

Ace picked at his costume, occasionally patting down his hair and looking up at the ceiling.

Deep held his left upper arm with his right hand, eyes glued down to his beat-up shoes.

The two bands dispersed into their own groups, Beep and Deep separately standing by themselves.

Ace approached Deep, “hey.”

Deep glanced up at him. “Hey.”

Ace cooed softly, using a finger to tilt Deep’s head up. “It’s a wonder how I’m still somehow taller than ya, huh?”

“Man-” Deep swatted his hand away, fighting back a smile. “Shut up.”

Ace trailed his hand down to Deep’s left upper arm, thumb stroking the tattoo he had gotten years back. “I can’t sneak you into any of my luggage, can I?”

“Wish y’could. But I got a double-life here, with the comedy and the band.”

“Yea, I know. I’ll ring your line, though. Through calls and letters and whatever else I can do....a mail carrier pigeon?”

Deep snorted, “you’re unbelievable.”

“Like I haven’t heard you say that enough times already.”

Deep looked up at Ace, gulping.

The corner of Ace’s lips twitched up into a slight, sad grin. “I’ll miss you while we’re down ‘n’ out ‘n’ wherever.”

“I’ll miss you too...What’s gonna happen to us?”

Ace sucked his teeth, emotions unable to hide behind his ghostly-coloured makeup. “No clue, but we’ll manage. Can’t be that hard if we keep in contact like I said earlier.”

“I guess.”

Ace clenched his jaw, thinking of what to say next.

“Think your hair will grow back next time I see ya?”

He giggled, reaching a hand up to feel his now-shorter hair. “Hope so. I know how much you like it long so you could-”

“Ace.”

“I’m joking” Ace winked playfully. “We’ll see. Think you can get it that long?”

“Never in a million years!”

Ace laughed, clapping his hands together.

The only sight Deep could ever want to see, the only one he needed. His finger traced the tattoo on his arm, it was of 'Frehley Forever’ in Ace’s handwriting.

“I’ll see you in time for your birthday, though. In November?”

“Yea.”

“I’ll see you in November” Ace chirped in a sing-song voice, earning an airy chuckle from Deep. “If not, I’ll send some stuff back to ya, a few gifts, maybe. If we’re in Australia still, maybe a kangaroo.”

Deep laughed.

Ace smiled in adoration as he leaned in, softly kissing over the tattoo on Deep’s arm before kissing Deep’s lips themselves. “Love you, Derek.”

“Love you too.” Deep mumbled, his airy chuckle turning into a typical laugh when Ace did what he always did; ruffle Deep’s hair.

Starchild and Beep looked away from the two, and back at one another. 

Beep looked up at Starchild twitching. “Y’gonna miss my tics when you’re away?” He joked.

“More than anything” Starchild played along, Beep’s eyes trailing the outline of the black star around his eye. “I’ll miss you more, in and of itself. Shame you’re not short enough to fit in my jacket and come along with us, eh?”

Beep chortled. “First time I’m too tall for something, I’ll say.”

Starchild cupped Beep’s cheek, soft to the touch. “I’ll try keepin’ in touch. I won’t give up on us if you won’t. But as the Bobby of this band-” the two shared a giggle, “I’ll most likely be distant, literally. It’ll be busy.”

“I never could.” Beep assured him, hands interlocking with Starchild’s bigger ones and giving them quick squeezes. “See if Gene can send over free KISS merchandise” he sarcastically recommended.

“I’ll think about it” Starchild winked. He pulled Beep closer, fingers tracing down Beep’s neck. “I’ll be hot blooded f’you” Starchild referenced.

Beep felt his face flush, knowing what he was referencing.

“Check it and see?”

Beep kissed his teeth, dragging his tongue across his teeth. “I’ve got a fever of a hundred and three.”

Starchild grinned, bringing Beep’s hand up to kiss it, imprinting it with a red lipstick stain.

One Beep wishes he could keep forever. He gestured for Starchild to lean down, pulling him in to imprint the red lipstick over his own lips.

Peep slunk over to Gene, looking all the way up a him. “Gene.” She bowed.

Gene exhaled through his nose. “Peep.” He returned, bowing a bit.

“If you’re gone, who’s gonna protect me from secret serial killers?” Peep inquired.

Gene groaned, shaking his head. “I’m sure your brothers can manage” he shrugged.

“Benji and Derek? Wow, you sure have higher hopes for them, don’t’cha?”

“I don’t see in ‘em what Starchild and Ace see, but, yes.”

“Well, course you don’t. What Starchild and Ace see in ‘em is what you see in Dolly” Peep reminded, though it wasn’t something Gene needed reminding of.

“Y’got that right” Gene nodded. “That aside, you’re a strong lady, Penelope. You’re more than capable of takin’ care of yourself. Ain’t that right? I mean, you’re not so scared o’me anymore, right? That’s a feat.”

Peep lightly punched his arm. “Shut up” he giggled.

Gene smiled down at her, patting the top of her head. “If you’re ever really in so much trouble, I’m sure y’know how to get to me.”

“I do.” Peep smiled. 

Gene grinned. “Y’gonna miss this?” He asked, sticking out his horrifically long tongue.

Peep groaned in fake-disgust, turning away. “Gross, this is a question for Dolly, not me-”

Gene cackled, throwing his head back a bit.

Peep smiled proudly, hands on her hips. Making Gene laugh- or so much as smile- was a rare feat she had only seen Ace achieve thus far (”look! It’s rock and roll!”).

Bobby watched the Sweeneys converse with their government-assigned KISS members (as he liked to joke), gaze flickering to the floor in melancholy.

“You okay, babe?”

Bobby reached a hand up, carefully cupping Cliff’s cheek. He hummed in response. “I dunno when we’re gonna see ‘em again, mango. What if we never have time to hang out again? What if shit goes down and we have to stop hanging up with one of ‘em, or someone breaks up with someone else and it’s all weird?” He inquired. “I dunno, I just...as much as I liked the Buddies being independent, opening for ‘em as cool as hell.”

Cliff kissed Bobby’s palm. “Somethin’ tells me this isn’t the end, Bobby. They may not be your employers or technical-band-mates anymore, but they’re still your friends” he answered, kissing the top of Bobby’s head. “And we know a thing or two about friends, don’t we?”

“All sorts’a stuff.”

“Exactly. We know lots of the outcomes that this friendship with Gene, Peter- uh, Eric now, Paul, and Ace could come to. We’re ready for any of them anyways, amirite?”

“Right.” Bobby had the ghost of a smile on his face as he craned his head up to look at Cliff, though upside down. “God, you’re my religion.”

“Love you too” Cliff purred, kissing Bobby’s nose.

Backtracking to Deep and Ace, Ace’s hand in Deep’s hair. 

Deep glanced down at his watch, literally watching as each second with Ace slipped away. Each of Beep’s seconds with Starchild. Each of Peep’s seconds with Gene. “I just wanna stay here forever.”

“Y’do?” Ace arched a brow.

“‘Cause I know in the mornin’, you’ll be gone. And the morning after  that- rats, then the next ones after that.”

Ace gulped, pulling Deep in and tightly hugging him. “Bring it in, man.”

Deep wrapped his arms around Ace’s neck, a hand in his pitch black, but godly soft hair. “Ace?”

Ace pulled away from the hug, a hand cupping Deep’s cheek. Their noses were inches apart. “Yea?”

Deep glanced down at his tattoo. “Don’t make a mistake outta me, alright?”

Ace fought back a knowing grin, simply nodding. “Never on any planet, baby.”

Beep, meanwhile, bit the edge of his lip. “Starry?”

Starchild looked down at him, “mhm?”

Beep looked at the red lips on his hand. “Don’t make a- make a mistake out of me, alright? Out of, uh, us.”

Starchild’s eyebrows furrowed together a bit. “Y’know how I say I can see into the future, Benji?” 

Beep squinted, confused. “Yea-?”

“I can say for certain that I don’t see that happening.” Starchild chuckled.

Beep slowly smiled, feeling a twinge of relief. “I love you, Starry.”

“Yea, I love you too.”

Peep tilted his head. “Gene, y’better not make a mistake out of our friendship while you’re gone.”

Gene narrowed his eyes. “How could I-?”

“I dunno, but just don’t” Peep shrugged, rolling up an imaginary sleeve.

Gene scoffed, saluting her. “Aye-Aye, Penelope.”

Bobby smiled to himself, Cliff’s hand going up and under his shirt. “I’ll miss ‘em.”

“Yea, me too” Cliff agreed. “But this isn’t the end, remember?”

“Far from it.”

[tsipasce]

Same Difference ch. 15

A/N: this thing fluffier than mf pancakes

That first night Nanami was awoken by the sound of the front door and a heavy sigh from a familiar voice. She glanced at the clock to see it was 2:30 am, a feeling a bit of empathy as she remembered all the 12-hour shifts she pulled, only to return to an empty place and heat up leftovers from the night before. He was probably doing the opposite of ~*saving lives*~ during his long shifts, but the sentiment remained. She heard him walking into the kitchen as the steps on hardwood turned to tile and he opened the pantry then subsequently the microwave. By 3:15 am she heard his shower going as she fell back asleep, wondering how he kept up with this schedule, his consistent grumpy mood suddenly making more sense.

By morning Nanami’s alarm for 5:30 am began blaring and she hurriedly shut it off, knowing they were only a room apart, but not how heavy a sleeper he was. Hoping she hadn’t awoken him, she quietly went through her morning routine and slipped into her workout gear. Since her training, she’d gotten back into running, and morning jogs were the only ones she had the time or energy for. On paper, any kind of jogging sounded tedious, but she found a certain peace in being able to clear her mind and get the blood flowing before beginning her day. Grabbing her headphones and phone, she quietly opened the door to her room before gently closing it. She crept down the hallway, looking back to his room to find the door still closed. He must be asleep still. Better make this quick. She thought before continuing down the hall. The sun was streaming in, but the kitchen and living room lights were off, further strengthening her confidence. As she rounded the corner, she sa— “Aggh!” There he was with his back turned, leaning on the counter. He had on a baseball cap, dust mask, sweatshirt and gym shorts with compression tight underneath, all black.

Overhaul calmly turned his head at the sudden noise as though he’d been expecting it, “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice you leaving, did you?”

“Wha—no, way. I was just gonna…” his bored expression let her know that whatever half-baked explanation she planned on selling, he wasn’t buying it, “Ok, you caught me.”

“You cannot be outside alone. What part of ‘there’s a price on your head’ are you not getting?”

A defeated look crossed her features as she realized he was right. For at least a couple weeks, she needed to lay low. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and she knew it. “You’re right…” She began as she turned to go back to her room.

“Where are you going?”

The question caught her off-guard as she turned, confused, “To change?”

“I had plans to go on a run myself. You can join, if you behave.” He said plainly, as he headed to the doorway to put on his shoes. In any other circumstance she’d complain about being treated like a child, but considering she’d literally just gotten caught trying to sneak out like a teenager, she thought it best to spare him the retort and herself the hypocrisy.

“…Fine. Lead the way~”

“And leave the earphones, you need to be alert.”

“Yes, sir.” She responded simply.

He stopped, quickly turning to her, a dark look in his eyes. Seemingly coming back from wherever his mind went in that moment, he cleared his throat before turning back and adjusting his hat to cover more of his now-flushed face. “Let’s… let’s just go.”

Note to self: The magic words are not ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, but ‘yes sir’. She gulped.

They walked out of the main door and past the courtyard to the street. Looking at his watch he set a timer and they began their jog. The sun was still rising, and the air was fresh as it filled her lungs. The neighborhood was quiet, and the streets were empty, the only sounds being the morning birds and her own breath as they began their third mile.

 Hold up, where is—she thought as she looked over to see him still there. She knew he had to be in better shape than her given the fact that he fought so frequently, but he was running as though they had just begun, not a shred of fatigue on what was visible of his face. It was slightly off-putting seeing someone she knew had a whopping 2 hours of sleep run a couple miles without breaking a sweat. She on the other hand was beginning to tire. Slowing down she breathed heavily as he raised a brow at her questioningly.

“You’re…” She breathed, her hands above her head as she continued, “you’re like an electric car or something… How?” She panted, trying to cool down.

“None of that made sense.” He deadpanned, still jogging in place.

“Ugh, I’m trying to say, how are you not tired yet? I haven’t heard a peep out of you this whole time.”

“Practice and overhaul. Get through 5 miles without being this winded and I’ll consider teaching you.”

“Nothing is ever easy with you, is it?”

“Says the woman who makes a game out of defying me.”

Gasping, she dramatically put her hand across her chest, “Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean you have to say it! Besides, you invite confrontation.”

“I what?” He asked incredulously.

Just as they were about to continue bickering, a voice cut them off. “It’s a bit early to be carrying on like this, isn’t it?”

Seeing the old man from the day before, Nanami immediately felt embarrassed, having shown the stranger a less-than-flattering side of herself twice in such a short span of time. “We’re so sorry for the noise, that was my fault.” She bowed trying to apologize. Just as she was about to check for Overhaul’s reaction, she saw him doing the same.

“My apologies. We won’t be a bother again.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or irritation in his voice and it sounded almost foreign to her.

Well, he does have manners, so I guess it’s not that surprising… she reasoned to herself.

“That’s quite alright, for someone my age, it’s nice hearing you young folk being so spirited.” He looked between them before continuing, “How would you two like to have a morning cup of tea with me?”

Before Nanami could find a way to wiggle out of it, Overhaul responded, “Of course, we’d be delighted.”

They stood back up, the older man already turning to go inside. Nanami turned to him mouth “what the hell are you doing?” as she didn’t want to get the man involved, not knowing how misplaced her concern was. He simply sighed, seemingly resigned to this tea break as he motioned for her to go inside. She could tell he knew something she didn’t, but reluctantly went ahead as he followed close behind through the front gates of the house.

The courtyard was very similar to that of the front house used to enter the base, except it felt homier upon entering. It was quiet and serene, as the melodic clank of the deer scare echoed and a stream of water ran into a small pond, the morning birds sparing an odd note or chirp in the background. Now cooling down from their run, she could feel the fall air crisp in her lungs once again as she took a moment to appreciate the scene.  The wrap-around porch had cushions and a tea set laid out as though he was expecting guests. Nanami was suspicious of the coincidence but couldn’t bring herself to feel threatened with her partner being so calm. At the end of the day, she was confident she and Overhaul could handle an ambush between them, but this didn’t feel like an attack, at least not for her.

“Please, have a seat.” The man smiled warmly as they obliged. Nanami was still unsettled at seeing her lab partner so placid and cooperative with another person. Must be trying to keep up a cover or something… I’ll have to be a barrier to make sure Mr.NoseyNeighbor doesn’t dig too deep and get himself in trouble with bird brain over here. This sweet old man has no idea what he’s gotten into…She thought to herself. The man poured them their cups and she clasped it with both hands, savoring the warmth as she sipped. “So, do you spend this much time with all of your patients or just the ones that are ‘particularly needy’?”

Nanami almost choked, registering the question and possible insinuation. Ok, what the fuck. Not-so sweet, after all... She used the cup as a shield, drinking as she regained her composure to answer, “I’m not sure what you mean, but I take care of all my patients equally based on what their condition demands.”

“Ah, I see. I wish I had a doctor as involved as you. Tell me, what hospital did you say you worked for again, Dr. Watanabe?” He asked innocently sipping his tea, but maintained eye contact.

“I didn’t. It’s funny, I also didn’t mention my name either. People in this neighborhood usually keep to themselves from what I’ve seen.”

“And I assume you’ve seen a lot.”

“No more than someone of your tenure has, I’m sure.” She smiled easily, determined not to lose this quasi-confrontation. She could feel her grip on the teacup tightening until Overhaul cut in.

“I think that’s enough, Pops.” He said, a tinge of exasperation in his voice.

Her head snapped to look over at Overhaul, wide-eyed. “POPS”??

The older man’s stern face and calculating smile were replaced with one of genuine amusement and a hardy chuckle. “Oh, I just wanted to test her mettle a bit. I’ve heard so much about her, but we’ve never had the chance to formally meet.”

“POPS” LIKE A DAD? LIKE HIS WHOLE ASS FATHER??

“Well, here we are. Boss, Dr. Nanami Watanabe. Dr. Watanabe, Boss.” He motioned between them. Her heart still finding time to skip a beat at the sound of him saying her given name for the first time.

Wait, Boss too? I’m… it’s too early for this. She lamented inwardly at her growing confusion before gathering her face, trying to seem unsurprised and unbothered by the introduction, though she was still hesitant. Is this another manipulation tactic?

“It’s alright, please relax, doctor.” He assured, seeing the skepticism on her face, ”I’m fully aware of your involvement in our organization. Though I do appreciate your caution. It puts me at ease knowing your prudence when discussing the Shie Hassakai extends even to me.” He chuckled.

“Oh, my apologies. It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” she replied, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she realized there wasn’t a crisis to be averted, at least not the one she thought.

“No need to apologize, I’m just grateful to have you over. Chisaki speaks so highly of you, it’s nice to be able to put an in-person face to the name.” At this she cautioned a glance only to see him very preoccupied with watching the deer scare. “Chisaki” huh…

“Oh, does he now? He’s usually so quiet when we’re working together.”

“Except for the occasional smart remark, I’m sure.”

She tried to stifle a giggle, “You really are his father then. If it’s not that, there’s certainly a ‘can’t you be serious for one second?’ thrown in there if I even attempt a joke myself.” She said in her best Overhaul impersonation voice.

The Boss let out a hardy laugh, “Well, we’re not related by blood,” at this a look of surprise crossed her face. “But that does indeed sound like my son.”

Realizing her expression had been misread, she clarified, “Oh no, I didn’t— what I mean to say is that my parents adopted me too, so I understand what you mean.” She smiled sincerely, though there was a fragment of sadness in her features Overhaul noted as he glanced over at her when she wasn’t looking. Wanting desperately to change the subject, she looked around the courtyard, “Anyway, you have a lovely home. I’m impressed your hydrangeas are so lush during this time of year, I’m having a real hard time with mine.”

He perked up, more than happy to explain the ins-and-outs of his gardening techniques. He rose to show her around, the both of them crouching and inspecting the plants in the courtyard as pops gave her the life story and history of each plant. It was odd to think that she was having a casual conversation with The Boss himself, but figured it was best to play it cool and keep things light and genuine. She made sure to maintain a healthy level of respect while addressing him, but the interaction flowed easily. For a moment she was able to forget her situation and just enjoy a morning tea while listening intently as he spoke about all matters horticultural.

Still on the porch, observing the pair, there was a warmth creeping into Chisaki’s chest. Bloodshed, murder, brutality—those were familiar, but this… was different. Not in the mood for self-reflection, he pulled his mask down and sipped the tea, enjoying the view without questioning it. Her hands gently grazed the petals, her gaze soft as the rising sun illuminated her features, a warm smile across her face. He cleared his throat, careful not to articulate the thoughts that crossed his mind. Careful not to acknowledge just how nice it would be to become used to this visage. He made a mental note to create a garden of his own to help facilitate this new wish, but for now, there was work to be done. Like clockwork, his phone rang, stirring him from his thoughts and he knew it was time to go.

After a brief call, he pocketed the device, standing up and walking over to them. Pops noticed and took the cue, “Well, it looks like duty calls. It was lovely to finally meet you, Dr. Watanabe.”

“The feeling is definitely mutual. Thank you for the tea and gardening tips, I’ll be sure to update you on the progress of my green thumb, whenever it shows up.” She gave a small laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck, a bit embarrassed at telling him how many plants had gone to die at her place.

“I look forward to it, and to seeing more of you around here. I know others feel the same.” He glanced over to Overhaul who averted his gaze like a reticent child at the remark.

They gave courteous bows before leaving, heading back in the direction of his house. There was a marked silence between them as they jogged this time. She had a million questions but couldn’t bring herself to ask even one as they arrived and entered the house. Lost in thought, she continued walking until she almost bumped into him as he stopped in the hallway. Looking over his shoulder, he addressed her “You know, there’s no turning back now.”

“I think we crossed that bridge a while ago,” she tittered before looking up to see his gaze soft and almost anxious to hear her response.  “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She assured, referring only partly to her commitment to keep a low profile until the bounty could be resolved. If she was being completely honest with herself, there was an insinuation she hoped he wouldn’t miss; that he wouldn’t reject. Both exhaling a long-held breath, he nodded, heading down the hallway to his room, a faint smile forming behind his mask.