#b.) would be a great way to keep him in line with shame and humiliation

[ahamkara-apologist]

Hmm hmm debating making Crow's fear-infatuation with Aeris into a genuine short-term crush post-SOTH that Aeris knows about and is uncomfortable with, not only bc it would be a very good harsh lesson for himself given the fact that he is Not In A Good Place right after he escaped but also bc Aeris himself doesn't have enough problems so I gotta slap him with the aroace axe of 'I wish I could be this for you but I cannot' as well as 'I don't know if it's because I can't feel as other's do and I worry if there's fundamentally something wrong with me' autistic aro experience on top of it. Crow grows out of it eventually ofc and in the long run Aeris as YW can't exactly linger on himself for long but it would be an interesting take to spin on the whole concept since Crow/YW pairings are so common in fandom (for good reason)

[sydsaint]

Send softie!HOOK

Summary: The reader turns to her best friend HOOK for comfort after a confession to her crush goes horribly wrong.

"I think that's it's time for you to go home, Y/N." Eddie looks at you with little emotion on his face.

Never in your life did you ever think that one simple sentence could ruin your whole life. You take a small step backward and your arms hang at your sides limply. Your chest burns like you got hit by a car and you can feel a burning in your throat that signals tears are sure to start flowing freely down your face.

You turn on your heel sharply and hurry off before you humiliate yourself any further in front of the man you've got a hopeless crush on. But you still can't believe that he doesn't feel the same. Not even a little bit.

"Damnit," Eddie mumbles as you rush away from him. "No. Come on, Kingston. It's for the best." He tells himself. "She's better off far away from you."

You woke up today with all of the enthusiasm and energy in the world. You woke up and decided that today was the day you'd finally tell Eddie how you feel about him. Unable to keep it to yourself any longer.

Heartbroken and not thinking straight, you make a B-line for one of your closest friends' locker room. Even though he's working tonight, you know that Tyler aka HOOK would never turn you away. Not like this.

You knock sharply on the door of Team Taz and try your best to hold back your tears. "Yeah? Y/N, what's up? You look like crap." Ricky answers the door.

"Is Tyler in there?" You sniffle with a pathetic look in your eyes.

Ricky disappears behind the door and you hear him shout Tyler's name out. The door cracks open again and HOOK stands at the door. "Y/N? Oh my God?! What happened to you?" Ty sees your red and tear-stained face.

"Can I come in?" You sniffle again.

Tyler nods and quickly ushers you inside the safety of the locker room. He leads you over to the bench on the far side of the room and you both sit down. As soon as you sit it doesn't take long for the dam to break and tears start to flow.

Tyler sits and puts a hand on your back for comfort as you cry into your sweater sleeves. "Y/N, come on. What happened? Who did this to you? Are you hurt?" He asks you softly but still presses you for answers.

"I'm a fucking idiot, Ty." You whine and shake your head.

"What? No, you're not." Tyler scoffs at your statement. "Y/N, sweetie, come on. Tell me something." He asks you again. "I can't help if you don't tell me anything."

You sniffle and peak out at Tyler from behind your hoodie sleeves. "I told Eddie about my crush on him..." You explain and feel more tears on their way out.

"Oh." Tyler nods in understanding. "And he doesn't feel the same I'm guessing?" He sighs and pulls you into a hug.

"He told me to get lost." You bury yourself into Tyler's chest and continue to cry.

A hint of anger flashes across Tyler's face but he stays still and lets you cry until you've got it all out of your system. When it seems like you're done crying for the moment Tyler gently pushes you off of him so he can see your face.

"Feel any better now?" He offers you a small smile and wipes away a couple of lingering tears on your cheek.

You shake your head and look down at your lap in shame. "Not really, no. I feel like a fucking idiot, Ty." You sigh deeply. "What was I even thinking? I mean why in gods name would Eddie ever in a million years be into me?"

"Hey! Come on, Y/N." Tyler grabs your hand from your lap. "You're a wonderful person. Sweet and pretty, and not to mention kickass in the ring." He reminds you. "And if Kingston is too much of a fucking moron to see that, then that's his problem."

"Pfft, I'm not so great." You roll your eyes. "I barely even make it off of Dark and Elevation every week. You've got millions of fans dying to see you every week." You point out.

Tyler sighs and pulls you in for another hug. "That might be true. But you want to know something? I'd tell every one of those fans to kiss my ass if it meant you'd feel better." He grins at you.

"You mean that?" You sniffle and pull away from your hug to look at your best friend.

Tyler nods and smiles at you again. "Who needs fans and fame when I've got you at my side?" He shrugs.

"Thanks, Tyler." You crack a small smile and hug him again.

"Anytime, Y/N." Tyler hugs you tightly. "Now come on, let's go do something to take your mind off of all of this. Ricky, if you see my dad, tell him that I'm busy all night." He pulls you up by the hand and walks you over to the door.

You let Tyler pull you but stop when you get to the door. "Don't you have to work tonight?" You blink at him.

"It's just a photo shoot." Tyler shrugs. "This is more important. Come on." He grabs your hand again and pulls you out the door.

Ricky and Hobbs share a look while you and Tyler exit the room. They've been listening in this whole time after all.

"Well, it looks like the kid finally bagged his girl." Ricky jokes with a laugh.

Hobbs nods in agreement and gets to his feet. "Those two are good for each other. Now come on, let's go visit Eddie Kingston." He walks over to the door with a scowl.

"Right behind you, buddy." Ricky nods and follows him.

HOOK might be able to take care of you in terms of your feelings. But Hobbs and Ricky can make sure that Eddie gets a little punishment for hurting you on behalf of HOOK.

[hehebread]

[BKDK] Izuku keeps mentioning a Kacchan to reporters and they think that's his gf

this was a request on twt that i had way too much fun writing. warning for suggestive language!

--

“And is there…. a special person….or a group of people you would like to thank on air today? Anyone who inspired you? Anyone you would attribute your success to? An image of victory per say?”

Izuku’s eyes glimmer as the bright lights of the studio reflect on his irises. “Oh!” He jumps in his seat, his perfectly- coiffed curls bouncing as he nods frantically to the show’s host. “Yes! Yes!” Leaning forward with his hands on his leg, the camera zooms in on his face where the blush is painting his cheeks. “I wouldn’t be the hero I am today if it wasn’t for Kacchan!”

And it’s as if an earthquake alert dropped on the talk show. The host grows this devious grin on his face as he turns to the camera team and says, “Well, well, well, behind every great man is a woman after all.”

Izuku isn’t quite sure why the host is bringing his mother into this since the interview is reaching its end and he has already discussed her influence in detail very early on, but he doesn’t get a chance to ponder.

The host, Yamaguchi-san, leans into Izuku’s space with renowned interest and an interesting glint in his eyes. Izuku feels himself sweating in his oversized maroon-striped suit.

“So, Midoriya-san, Hero Deku, Rising Symbol of Equity and Hope, can you tell us more about … Kacchan?” His voice goes higher at the last syllable, almost sing songs, and Izuku is not sure if he should be worried or not, but he won’t pass an opportunity to gush about Kacchan!

“Ah, Kacchan is very … confident, hardworking, strong, and smart. Kacchan is a hero who knows how to lead a team and perform under pressure, an inspiration to both myself and our entire graduating class, and a”—Izuku can feel the heat rise in his face as he tries to hide in his colour— “a shining star who was closer to me than All Might!”

The host makes a loud ‘AWWW’ noise at the same time as the small audience in the studio. “My, my! Sounds like Kacchan is very important to Hero Deku! Don’t be shy! Tell us more! Is there a physical description to go with your precious person?”

“Ahm!” Izuku fiddles with his fingers as he avoids the gazes on him. There a long beat of silence before he manages to say, “Muscles….Blonde…..Sharp eyes….” With a vague gesture to his middle section, he mumbles, barely audible, “Big, ugh…..” Heart.

“OOOOOOOOOH!” The host goes wild and so does the audience. “So are we talking Hiromi Oshima type big or maybe Rio Natsume, or aaaah Aki Hoshino even ….?”

Izuku feels his ears ring in humiliation as he tries to process what they’re talking about. Something Kacchan has in common with all these beautiful women is his big successful career so Izuku nods. “Yes!” Then, a thought occurs and he rises in his chair. “Even bigger!”

After all, Kacchan’s net worth is higher than these ladies.

“BIGGER?”

“The biggest!”

“Oh my god!” The host is losing his mind now! “And is it … natural? Or did Kacchan get a little help from professionals?”

“No, no, no! Kacchan was a natural ever since we were in school together!” Izuku’s eyes shine with a fire to defend his childhood best friend, no longer trying to hide in his big suit. “No one helped Kacchan get this big!”

“That’s … amazing!” The host shakes his head in both awe and disbelief. “Now we want to see Kacchan in action! When the hero works around the city, defeating villains, does the size get in the way?”

Does Kacchan’s fame get in the way of his work? “Sometimes,” Izuku muses, “But Kacchan never lets the restless and perky nuisances stop him, y’know. With a little shake from his hands, and a few colourful words of wisdoms, nothing gets in the way!” Izuku laughs as he remembers Kacchan’s way of dismissing fans and reporters alike.

“Wow!”

“Of course, there are times where Kacchan’s big firm moulds become springy and hard to control, but I have yet to see an instance where that has been a major issue. ”

Kacchan is still having some adjustment problems with his new hero costume, particularly his grenade mould, but that’s as far as distractions go.

“Does Kacchan not use support?”

“Uhm, only when it’s a dire situation! Sometimes I’m even allowed to provide assistance!”

“You must be very lucky…”

“I am! It feels … exciting and … very special! Kacchan doesn’t trust just anyone, y’know! I can never quite get used to the trust we built together. We are one unit working together.”

“Do you use your hands…. Or something else?”

“Oh, hands! Yes! But anything works really! Whatever Kacchan is comfortable with and needs at the time. Black Whip, combo moves, an iron grip...”

The host furrow his brows and seems to be considering Izuku’s answer before he opens his mouth again. “Uhm, never mind.” He then turns to the camera, smile back on. “Our time is almost running out! Thank you, hero Deku for your time! We look forward to seeing you again in the big screen!”

--

The next day, Izuku wakes up to the headline: Hero Deku And His Mysterious Busty New Girlfriend: The Beautiful and Spunky Kacchan!

He’s doomed

--

He sees Kacchan early the next day.

Having spent the morning talking to tabloids and the host show agents about the misunderstanding and whether or not it was possible to take down the episode at least, Izuku slumps his head on his desk in defeat.

Oh, this is very bad.

He starts thumping his forehead on the wood in sync with the bleeps noises in the phone, already planning his funeral in his head.

Okay, so it seems the suspense around this girlfriend is raking up his popularity, but god, at what cost.

“Nerd, we need to talk.”

Izuku’s soul near flies to the roof at the sound of the door to his office slamming close. Fuckfuckfuck.

Kacchan stands before him with his hand on his hip, teeth snarled and looking ready to tear his flesh open. Oh, this is going to be fun!

After flashing a haughty glare at the glass door to scare away the nosy friends hanging about, Kacchan continues, “About the interview.”

Of course! Yes! His final hour is approaching. “Haahahaha, what about it?” Izuku feels his undershirt cling to his torso, sweat collecting on his face. He directs a shaky hand to a nearby chair. “Feel free to take a seat, Kacchan! You want me to get you anything? Water, tissues, uhm, a knife, a body sized bag, or uhhh, a shovel? I think I have some spare sheets of paper if you’d like to give me a chance to—“

“So…” Kacchan starts.

“PLEASE TELL MY MUM I LOVE HER!”

“…this Kacchan, huh?” Having completely ignored every single word Izuku just said, Kacchan crosses his arms and scowls. “Is she strong? How come I never heard about her before? Since when did you start dating this gravure idol and pro hero, huh?”

“Wha—?”

“So, you just go around giving everyone pretty nicknames now?” Kacchan snorts and his expression darkens before he slams his hands on Izuku’s desk. He looks at Izuku from under his chin, and Izuku swear he can see flames behind his eyes. He growls, “What’s her actual name?”

An alarm bell rings in Izuku’s ears and he stutters, “Ka— Ka— Kat— Katsuko! Bakugan Katsuko…….”

Kacchan’s expression doesn’t change and Izuku feels his heart leap to his throat. God, Kacchan is gonna call his bluff at any minute now. He’s going to reject him then he’s going to break his heart and his bones.

“What’s she like?”

Kacchan shifts forward slightly and Izuku is just know noticing the ample cleavage in clear view. Right there. In front of Izuku’s face. “Uhm. Ah, she’s very, ugh, im- pec— impeccable!! And strong! Muscl— mature!! Breasty too – I mean, pretty! PRETTY!” Izuku bites his tongue then swallows thickly. “Beautiful, actually!” Lifting his gaze to meet Kacchan, he whispers, “Gorgeous. Just the most amazing person in my life.”

Kacchan is staring intently with his sharp red eyes, and Izuku feels his chest swell with confidence he never had before. “Kacchan is my inspiration, and I just … love … Kacchan so much. I wish I had the courage to tell him— um, her that.”

“Are you two serious?” Kacchan asks, impassive but there is silent rage hiding behind his words.

Something flashes quickly through Kacchan’s eyes before he narrows them. It takes Izuku a second to recognise that it’s /hurt/ and then he realise what he has just done.

“No, no, no!” Izuku backtracks immediately. “I don’t even know her that well! In fact, she kinda smells and definitely has sweating problem.” Izuku needs to do damage control and come clean NOW. “You know what? I will call her and break up with her right now. Ha ha ha.”

What the hell is he saying? Who is he going to call?

Kacchan stands up while Izuku fumbles with his phone. “Don’t be a dick,” he says, before he heads to the door.

Izuku jumps from his chair and is ready to chase after him when Kacchan stops him. “How big?”

“Huh?”

“You said Bakugan was big.”

Ah, yes, he did. Tragically.

“Um, y’know just…” Izuku motions with his hands like he’s moulding two doughballs, palms up and fingers wiggling because he’s lost control of his life once he accepted his funeral date, but that’s not even happening anymore so what is he doing really.

He then makes am hourglass shape in the air and belatedly realises that he’s just outlining Kacchan’s shape in front of him. Izuku retreats his hands and puts them behind his back in shame.

Kacchan is looking at him funny. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Does she shoot aerial bomb or something? Is that a combat-style quirk?”

Izuku blinks.

Kacchan just sneers and turns around.

“Whatever. I’m doing a photoshoot this afternoon. The Sekushī clothing line is dropping a new summer set and they asked me to model.”

“Se- Sekushi?? You mean, like—” Izuku feels his face go impossibly red. “You’re saying that, you’re going to wear, like…..” his voice goes down to a whisper when he says “…..a b-b-b-b-b-bikini?”

“Swimwear,” Kacchan turns to say over his shoulder, “Among other things.”

The sexy smirk he sends Izuku’s way is doing very, very weird things to Izuku’s body and imagination, things too inappropriate to describe in a work setting.

Kacchan leaves but not without offering the most dangerous challenge to Izuku’s mental wellbeing. “Feel free to drop in.”

Oh, he absolutely will.

“Bring Bakugon.”

Oh, he absolutely will not.

Actually….

Maybe, he will.

Kacchan is going to ruin Izuku

[ddarker-dreams]

That last ask got me thinking! How would the bucci gang react to meeting SR reader's family? Not all of them but like a visiting grandparent(who is likely very unaware their precious grandchild is working with the mob to pay off awful debts-which reader would like to keep that way), but like who's falling all over themselves to impress said relative, who would be subtly trying to get their blessing to date reader, what shenanigans would reader the gang go to keep this person in the dark??

ohhh what an interesting situation!!! some of them would definitely handle it better than others...

Here’s the general concept! Reader’s grandparents are coming to pay their granddaughter a visit in Naples, under the impression she’s been studying there the past few years. Reader has asked some of the members of her team to further validate her story. I imagine everyone as trying to actively court Reader to some extent during this. :’)))

Bruno Bucciarati; 

Bruno is a revered member of the community. Any of the troublesome details of his Passione involvements would be lost in translation, so you figured he’s a safe bet. He’s also the member who is most familiar with your situation. While he speaks under the pretense of being professional, he would love to have that connection with your family for... any future possibilities. Marriage possibilities. 

He spots you in a mild state of panic, and boasting the compassionate heart he has, is led to ask if you want to talk to him about it. When you explain that some of your foreign family is coming to visit, he can immediately read between the lines. You need to play this part perfectly. He’ll offer to accompany you on one of his less busier days, willing to do whatever it is that’d help. 

The language barrier doesn’t matter too much! Bruno is still a gentlemen. Opening doors for them, pulling out their chairs, offering to pay for any of your meals... he’s very kind. Your grandparents are going to be quite fond of him by the end of your day together. All according to his plan. 

Unfortunately for you, Bruno is going to be offering lots of praise that he fully expects you to translate. It’s a bit embarrassing how genuine he’s being. Speaking about how hard a worker you are, how nothing gets in your way, stuff like that. Your face is on fire as you translate the heartfelt compliments. You end up toning them down a bit for your sake. 

“[First] is one of the most reliable people I know. You should take pride in having helped bring up someone like her. I promise I’ll continue to look after her, you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Ahh... Bucciarati, do I really need to tell them that...?” 

Giorno Giovanna;

He speaks some English! Giorno did well in his classes at school, so he can understand the basics. Having a knowledge of multiple languages in his position is also a benefit, so he never fully stopped studying it. Though he’d prefer not to mess up any of the pronunciation in front of you. He’ll be practicing in secret as not to embarrass himself, and definitely thinks this is a great opportunity to get closer to you. It’s a shame he can’t take full advantage of it, but he’s going to try to. 

Giorno hasn’t really had any positive family interactions, but he’s still good with people. Unfortunately, in his new position, he’s extremely busy. He still tries to make time for you when he can, but won’t be able to hang out with the three of you as much as he’d like to. He does find the time to come to the airport with you, under the pretense that a lot of shady business goes on there. He wouldn’t want your family being scammed. Don’t ask how he knows about this...

The entire car ride to their hotel will be filled with pleasant conversation. Giorno is a natural at reading the room, and backs your story up to perfection. Any potential discrepancies are covered up with ease. He came in for a clean save at least once or twice when you made a mistake, and you couldn’t thank him enough after.

Giorno isn’t going to want to pry into your personal life, but would be highly amused over any stories they tell him. Even though it’s only a forty minute drive, he enjoyed his time a lot more than he expected to, learning some new things about you in the process. You’re a bit frazzled over the person who is technically your boss (even if he’s not big on formalities...) knowing about your embarrassing childhood stories. He finds it endearing. :’)

He’s gonna bring it up afterwards during a casual discussion, sporting a little devious smile. 

“So, [First], do you want to tell me about that time you got stuck in a swing set again? It seems quite unlike you.” 

“God... I can’t believe they told you that. I was hoping you wouldn’t understand it well.”  

Guido Mista;

Oh no.

You’re going to have to explain to him that a few changes will need to occur if he is to meet your grandparents. For one, he needs to take a shower. Two, he needs something that at least covers his midriff. If there conditions are met, you’ll allow it. He is not missing out on this opportunity to win you over, so he’s surprisingly amiable to these conditions, ready to do his best to make a good impression. You’ve never see him so agreeable.

You do have to keep reminding him of the story that you’re sticking to. Mista makes a few mistakes here and there, but manages to laugh it off. Since you’re going to be translating a majority of his sentences it’s not a big deal. That doesn’t mean he won’t at least try to say a few words in English... results varying. 

The most difficult part is trying to ignore the Pistols, who are swarming around in excitement. They keep speaking to your grandparents like they can hear them. Asking for embarrassing stories, to know about your past partners, or for any cute childhood photos of you. Mista struggles to keep a composed look when all this is happening.  

“Say, [First]. Your grandparents... they aren’t Stand users, are they?”

“No, Mista. My grandparents aren’t Stand users.” 

To be honest, you weren’t too sure if Mista tagging along for some sightseeing would be the best idea. It goes a lot better than you expected. Some of his comments that you translate actually get your grandparents laughing! What a miracle, he’s gonna be grinning ear to ear. Mista is just a lovable guy. 

He is going to 100% try and sneak in a question about your relationship status when you’re not paying attention. Mista has to make sure you’re still on the market. B) 

Pannacotta Fugo; 

He’s actually your go to for this situation. It couldn’t be a better setup. Fugo is intelligent, can speak English the most fluently out of everyone in your team, and would be a big help for sightseeing. As soon as he heard about your grandparents visiting, he knew it was only a matter of time until you came to him for help. At first, he was intent on politely turning you down, but god... how can he? You’re too cute, looking at him like that, saying you need his help. Fuck, he’s so whipped for you lmao. 

Fugo is the most anxious about it. What if your grandparents don’t like him? What if he accidentally says something offensive? Or even worse, what if he blows your cover, and you hate him forever? He’s gonna being shutting himself in his room, refreshing his English nonstop. You have to admire his dedication. 

When the time finally comes, it goes a lot smoother than he anticipated. There’s no humiliating himself in front of you like he feared. Fugo is a bit stiff at first, but with your help, begins to ease up. He’s an amazing tour guide! Fugo knows the best places to go, what times they’ll be busy, the historical and cultural significance of every place, etc. When he starts talking about trivia you can tell he’s in his element. 

It’s going so well. That is, until your grandma says you have such a nice boyfriend. Fugo’s entire face goes beet red. If only. 

“A-ah, Mrs. [Last], we’re not dating, actually.” 

“We aren’t, but... you’re right. Fugo is amazing, isn’t he? There’s nothing he can’t do. I appreciate him a lot.” 

On that day, Pannacotta Fugo’s soul ascended. He legitimately cannot stop thinking about this. For you, his crush of many years, to compliment him so genuinely? Fugo.exe has stopped responding .

Narancia Ghirga;

He kinda invites himself along? Narancia is giving himself a bunch of pep talks, thinking of all the things he can say. His train of thought is that if he speaks English well, it’ll impress you! There’s nothing he wants more in this world than for you to think he’s cool and reliable. The problem is that most of his knowledge of English is only from music. So he’s more familiar with vulgarities than anything else. 

You’re understandably hesitant to allow Narancia to tag along. Then he makes the solid point to you that Aerosmith’s radar would come in handy, detecting any potential threats. Narancia is going to be sporting the brightest smile when you concede and say he can come with you, practically vibrating with excitement. He promises that you won’t regret picking him. 

The place he picks to go is a local pizzeria. In his opinion, the pizza you’ve spoken of back home is an insult to humanity. Naples style is the only way to go. He insists on letting your grandparents try “real” pizza, as opposed to whatever your country has. 

Narancia reminiscences about a lot of your past stories together. Nothing that has incriminating undertones, just casual stuff from your years of knowing one another. You’re almost surprised by how he’s remembered all of this. He can’t help it, any time spent with you has been forever imprinted into his mind. 

“So, there was this one time we spent hours looking for [First]’s lost wallet. Come to find out that she just left it in the glove department after we spent the entire evening searching for it. And then--” 

“Narancia, do you have to bring that up? It’s so embarrassing...” 

Leone Abbacchio; 

You’re going to have to pull out some incredible arguments to get him to come along with you. He’s going to say no before you even get the chance to ask, already sensing what it is you’re going to say. So be ready to break out some Ace Attorney level stuff or it’s no dice. He’s already offering special treatment by even letting you try to convince him, anyone else would’ve been shooed away. He has a big soft spot for you :’)...

The most you’ll get him to agree to is one dinner. That’s it. Abbacchio has a lot of baggage with him, and doesn’t think highly of himself. To be honest he’s wondering why you’re even relying on him here. It’s strange, since he appreciates the trust you must have for him, but also doesn’t think it’s deserved. 

He cleans up well. Abbacchio is going to take this occasion very seriously. For most of the dinner he listens to you speaking, rarely offering input unless he finds it necessary. When he does speak he’s more polite than you’ve ever heard him though. You almost wondered if it was Abbacchio who was speaking, and not some imposter. So he is capable of having manners when he wants to... 

He’ll also pay for the dinner, much to your surprise. Will insist on it even. Abbacchio tells you to let them order whatever desserts/wine they want. He’s pulling all the stops to make a good impression. 

“Abba, you really didn’t have to do all that. Please at least let me reimburse some of it.” 

“Would you stop bringing it up already...? They’re your family, so it’s only natural I’d take care of them.” 

Trish Una; 

As the only non Passione member on this list, Trish is an excellent choice! Her singing career is really starting to take off. Your family will find her to be impressive. You’ll have to think of a story for how the two of you are familiar with one another. You can’t very well say you used to be her bodyguard protecting her from assassins lmao.  

Since she needs to travel a lot to different venues for her career, Trish’s English is steadily improving. She’ll normally text you for help if anything is particularly challenging. The biggest challenge would be aligning your schedules together, at the same time they’re visiting. Trish has a way of making time for you. 

One of the things Trish loves to do is give gifts from her travels. So she’ll show up with some little souvenirs for them. It’s a very heartfelt gesture that they appreciate, and she even gives you a gift or two. The queen of good impressions. 

Throughout the years, Trish has managed to gather a sizeable collection of selfies from when you’ve spent time together. At some of her albums release parties, trips to the beach, the times you’ve travelled together. She’s going to have a lot of fun going through her hundreds of photos of you and showing them. 

“Trish, you almost need a SD card for all of these. Just how many pictures of us do you have?”

“Oh, this is just the beginning, [First]. I have a whole other album of when we went to Milan last spring.” 

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 26

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-25 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: swearing, body horror, gore, mutilation.

Lyrem and Paimon are finally able to have an honest conversation- well, I say honest... *shrugs* Xx. Alpaca

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

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THE GREAT ESCAPE

        Segovia’s España, Spanish Dance No.10 in G. A familiar tune to very few unless they were well versed in the world and talents of the Spanish guitar. It was what caused Lyrem to take Arch under their wing. Despite his mistaken memory for what was playing in the coffee shop that day, Lyrem grew attached to the dry humour that they exhibited. But of course, he wouldn’t have bothered to introduce Arch to the world of gods and occult and demons if Pan hadn’t pushed him along in the right direction. And he resisted well, for nearly a month until-

        Until they had gotten hurt. Until Arch had been beaten and humiliated and robbed right inside Lyrem’s place of business; Maria’s pride and joy. That was what pushed him over the edge. Arch didn’t deserve to live in fear any longer, and Lyrem would make sure they didn’t.

        Returning to the task at hand, Lyrem’s mind was aware of himself in this memory. The coffee shop smelled of old napkins, and coffee and buttery pastry, and the soothing sounds of Segovia played over the speakers. This was meant to be Apollo’s call. It was the one place and the one memory where the gods could travel freely through. Hades had given him a simple instruction:

        Open the front door from the inside. That was it. It was very easy, and would alter the memory ever so slightly, but it was doable.

        But Lyrem, to Hades’ utter dismay, had a different plan. The last thing he wanted was to open his mind to all sorts of gods and spirits coming and going from one place to the next. There was no telling when it would end, if ever. He wasn’t a stupid old man.

        He was just old. And he was also dead. He nearly forgot that.

        And he also had a score to settle with an old friend. He wanted to hear what Pan had to say for himself. Lyrem knew he would never get that chance the moment Hades became involved. And at that point, Hades would consume his essence and leave him with nothing.

        If this memory was a doorway to Apollo, then it was also a doorway to Pan.

        He just had to find his own way through and lock the door behind him.

        “Lyre!” The barista shouted across the bistro.

        Lyrem did not get his drink. Instead, he glanced from the countertop to the doorway, where a younger version of Arch had just entered and stood before the cork-board, looking for a job. It would be easy to play out the memory the way it was meant to go. He could grab his drink and allow the gods in, or…

        “Lyre!” the barista shouted again.

        He refused his drink and headed toward the back. A door towards the alley that would lead into Pan’s acquired realm, waited for him there, and the hall extended itself. He heard the panicking voice of Persephone overhead.

        “Wait, what is he doing?! Lyrem! Lyrem, stop!

                 Lyrem, he will destroy you! Please! Stop!”

        She wouldn’t be able to manipulate his memory for ever, and sure enough, as Lyrem pushed on, he was slowly making his way closer to the door.

        Hades now, was heard overhead in his disappointment.

        “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you would fail me,” Hades didn’t seem angry, still. “Enjoy your little trip, Thomas. Consider this the last of the sympathies I ever had for you.”

        “Good. I despise sympathy,” Lyrem muttered. Grimacing at the use of his deadname, he opened the back door and stepped through.

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

        “He was just there! How is he gone?!”

        “Charlotte, please calm down”-

        “Calm down? You want me to calm down, Arty?! I want to wring that motherfucker’s neck. I want to crush his skull and stomp on his b”-

        “Enough!” Persephone screamed through. “Please,” she added meekly.

        There was a silence that fell amongst the four of them, though, Charlotte was not yet aware of the presence of Hades among them. Clearing her throat, Charlotte stepped forward towards the goddess.

        “Persephone, is it?” She confirmed. “Would you be willing to tell me how to leave this place and find my child before that molding dish-rag of a human finds them first? I would be ever so grateful for your assistance.”

        Persephone scratched her forehead.

        “Um, well, you see… It’s very likely that Lyrem has already found Arch. Time flows very quickly there, so it may feel like minute to us, when, to Arch… well, it could feel like an hour… so…”

        “So, you’re useless.” Charlotte surmised. “That’s fantastic.”

        Plunking herself down on the sofa, Charlotte massaged her temples with her fingers. Arthur apologized to Persephone silently.

        “We thought that Lyrem would have his own best interest in mind, as well as the best interests for their friend, Arch,” she said. “My uncle and I were… we were very wrong to assume he would do the right thing. I am so sorry.”

        “How difficult is it to create a void into that realm?” Arthur asked. “I used the Abysmal Flame to bring us here from the Labyrinth, I am sure that I can create another, but I need to know where I’m going.”

        Hades was listening in carefully.

        “Very few have ever entered that realm and returned, Arthur,” the deep disembodied voice spoke. “And in order to find your way there, you would need substance from that very realm to help you along. I have tried to create a void to travel there from here already. It was the first thing I did, of course, but my nephew has done a very good job of sealing off all of the exits for Persephone and I.”

        “You could send me to earth,” Arthur said. “And I could create a void from there”-

        “You’ll still need something from that realm, Arthur, and to my knowledge you don’t have that something”-

        “I have someone.”

        There was a momentary hush.

        “You have someone?”

        Arthur nodded. “He was taken there by Paimon. I watched him come back. His name is Benji.”

        Charlotte scowled and lifted her head. “Oh, please don’t tell me Arch is hanging out with Benji, again.”

        “I’ll take Arch hanging out with Benji over a demon any day Charlotte! What about you?” Arthur said, looking back at his sister incredulously.

        He shook his head, and turned to Persephone.

        “May I ask you for one last favour?” he asked with desperation deep in his eyes.

        ----------------------------

        It was a stark contrast from Hades and Persephone’s temporary living space. Lyrem could hardly keep his eyes open in the bright, blinding yellow light that flooded the room. He landed on both feet, his knees, despite belonging to a dead man, still gave him a twinging pain that caused him to wince.

        “Fuck.” Hissing, he shielded his eyes and found his way across, aiming for the door. He was stopped by the sound of a tortured man.

        “I sent… I sent out my call…” a voice shone down from above. In equal amounts of disgrace and disgust. “And you… My sister sent… you?”

        “My apologies… Apollo,” Lyrem answered him, hearing the suffering carry through the room. But it was nothing that he hadn’t experienced before. “If it’s any consolation, I betrayed your sister and your uncle to get here, so”-

        Lyrem shrugged.

        Apollo laughed, hollowly, gaining more energy than he had in what felt like a century from the discourse. “Of course, you did… You’re an idiot… Hades was the only one who could stop Pan… and now you’ve destroyed his only chance to come home- and the only chance to save us all from my insane half-brother.”

        Lyrem shifted his gaze away from the torn-open god before him. Gripping the doorknob tightly, he hesitated leaving Apollo there. But only for a moment. There were more important things to take care of.

        “I am sorry, Apollo,” he breathed guiltily.

         Lyrem forced his way through the door and into the hall. He turned right, despite not knowing his way around the realm at all, and definitely not in the dark. The movements of decayed flesh and their guttural sobs cut through the hall, echoing through the silence, but he brushed them aside. Besides finding the human visitor mildly interesting, they did not advance on him any further.

        Carefully, he traveled down and up steps of stairs, and then found his way to the winding staircase that would lead him to the surface. There was more light there, lining the halls of the cavern so he could finally see properly. The hall was dotted with doors on either side, none of them were open except for one.

        The double set of doors that was ajar just slightly.

        From outside the decorated panels, Lyrem heard the midst of conversation inside.

        “—That’s better.”

        “It would be easier with proper surgical tools. Why am I still using this old thing, anyway?”

        “I’m sure your uncle wouldn’t mind that it’s been passed on to you,” Paimon was personally thrilled with the notion that Uncle Arty’s knife was being used to inflict pain. He didn’t want to replace it. “For now, however, I think we can put this cretin into a cell.”

        “What? But I’m not finished with him yet,” Arch proposed. “Can’t I do this for just a little while longer?”

        Paimon raised a dark brow and sensed the slightest shifting shadow near the door. Suddenly, he was feeling quite generous with his time.

        “Tell me Arch, what would you like to do next?”

        “I’ve never cut out a tongue before- are there any magical properties that come with that?”

        Paimon chuckled, “some tongues, perhaps. Not Marcus’.”

        Lyrem shut his eyes in darkening shame and sighed from hearing the willingness of Arch’s voice. Opening the door more fully, he stepped through and stood at the head of the table, far from where the carved meat was pinned to the table.

        “I thought we were saving this gift for Arch’s birthday,” he commented.

        Arch’s head flipped toward the door, painted with a wide and bloody grin.

        “Lyrem! You made it out! I knew you’d make it out!” they gestured toward Paimon who stood, hooves and all, in his truest form. “Paimon didn’t think you would, but I knew better than to doubt you.”

        Lyrem forced himself to greet Arch with a warmth he didn’t feel. They were bloodied up from head to foot, and none of the blood was their own. He shifted his gaze to Pan, taking in his old friend with a new sight; hooves, antlers, and all.

        Paimon watched him suspiciously. “Arch,” he addressed. “I’m afraid I will have to cut our lessons short. Lyrem and I have some catching up to do”-

        “No, please,” Lyrem walked forward, placing himself beside Arch as he refuted Paimon’s suggestion. “Don’t stop on my account. I think that there are some very valuable lessons to be learned here. Lessons about truth and the inherent value of tongues- particularly silver ones, at that.”

        With the tension rising inexplicably, Arch shifted away from Lyrem and table.

        “Look, I know a cat-fight is brewing here, so, I think I will just… go to my room”-

        “Phenomenal idea.”                       “You should stay.”

        Paimon steeled his gaze at Lyrem and grinned toothily.

        Arch sighed breathily and sunk their shoulders. Looking down at themselves, they shook their head.

        “Really, though, I desperately need a shower, so I’ll catch up with you later, Ly.” Arch held out a bloodied fist and waited for their old boss to bump it. He did so, very lightly.

        Ly? He mouthed to himself. He watched Arch leave the dining hall, and then turned his attention back to Paimon.

        “Different, aren’t they?” he started.

        “What did you do to them?”

        The words, came through gruff and accusatory. Paimon widened his eyes in response, and his smile fell.

        “I helped them discover their potential,” he answered. Idly, he approached the tied-up Marcus, and pulled the gag out of his mouth. Switching subjects, he asked him, “didn’t I?”

        Marcus did his best to nod, though the tears still threatened to take over. In a moment of lost dignity, the boy looked at Lyrem with pleading eyes, and whispered to him.

        “P-please s-sir… Please don’t leave me here w-with him. Ple”-

        Paimon snapped his fingers. Marcus vanished from the table entirely leaving a bloody body outline behind. Lyrem looked back at him, befuddled.

        “Where did he go? Where did you send him?”

        Paimon shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. I think into space somewhere.”

        “Of course,” Lyrem acknowledged quietly.

        “I imagine you have spoken with my uncle?”

        “I have.” Lyrem affirmed.

        “Enjoyable, was it?”

        “Oh, no,” he answered. “Absolutely not.”

        Paimon raised a brow and conjured up two whiskies. He handed one off to Lyrem and pulled up a chair. They sat at the corner of the table, nursing their drinks as they often did.

        “You and I are of the same opinion then. I don’t understand why Perse decided to live with him. Our father wasn’t so bad- granted, he was never around,” Paimon sipped his glass. “I suppose you’ll be calling me Pan now, won’t you?”

        Lyrem nearly scolded Paimon for thinking so lowly of him. He took a moment to collect himself before speaking.

        “We choose who we are,” he said. “Some of us are simply not born into the roles that we wish to have, so we must create those roles for ourselves. Arch chose theirs. I chose mine. You chose yours, long ago. Arch and I would be the last to look down upon you for trying to control your own fate.”

        Paimon tugged at his long beard lightly as he contemplated something deeply.

        “That is a relief, I must say.”

        “I admit, I am chafed that you put me on their most wanted list under the guise of self-preservation. Did you really need to trap Hades and Persephone because of some family spat?”

        “It wasn’t a spat, Lyrem,” he countered. “They wouldn’t stop trying to control everything I did. They couldn’t even trust me with a realm of my own. They stole everything from me! Do you know what the Labyrinth is? What it really is?!

        It’s my realm! Or what should be my realm! It should have light, and colour, and vibrant, lush wilderness! They took that from me, all because they thought I was having too much fun.

        I created Paimon and hid myself away for centuries because of them. I stayed on Earth because it was the closest thing I had to being home again- And that is all I ever wanted. I just want- I just want to have my home back!”

        Paimon rubbed his hand over his mouth, realizing how much he had packed away and thought he would never speak of to another soul. He grimaced and drank down his whisky with a tightened grip. His glass refilled itself a second later.

        “Hades… My uncle…betrayed me. As did Persephone, and Apollo,” Paimon looked away, off to one side of the room as he continued. “I don’t care what I have to do, I will make them suffer for as long as I can.”

        Lyrem nodded solemnly and silently raised his glass and drank it down. Changing the subject rather abruptly, he judged Paimon with care.

        “And what about the hearts? Persephone said they were useless,” he mentioned.

        Paimon demeanor swiftly turned. He chuckled. 

        “They are, they really are. Well, for you and Arch they are. All that corruption feeds back into me so that I can control this realm- even if its not technically mine. I simply gave you power as you needed it. None of it truly ever belonged to you.”

        “Son of a bitch,” Lyrem breathed, rubbing his forehead.

        “Don’t worry, all those little charms- the adorable little blood magicks you taught yourself before we met, those all still work. But, truthfully Lyrem, if anything happened to me, you’d have been done for a long time ago. Caput.”

        Lyrem sniffed indignantly and straightened his posture.

        “Well, I am glad that I have you as a reliable friend.”

        “Mm.” Paimon nodded slightly as he refilled Lyrem’s emptied glass. “Do you plan to tell Arch what you’ve learned?”

        Lyrem looked up, studying Paimon’s expression the best that he could, hoping that he had learned enough about the god to sound convincing.

        “If I did, then I would spoil all the fun,” he said, “can’t have that, now, can we?”

        Paimon’s mouth was left agape as he heard the response. It shocked him. As Lyrem lifted his glass again, Paimon suddenly stopped him with a hand out, swiping his drink away. Lyrem looked at him with a shock and concern as it vanished into thin air.

        “What was that for?”

        “I poisoned it.” Paimon said simply.

        “Poisoned it!? With what!?” Incredulously, Lyrem stared at the god.

        “Dillitirio Psyche,” he answered. “It would have eaten your soul from the inside out.”

         Lyrem blinked.

        “Delightful.”

        Paimon stood from his seat and paced through the room. Lyrem stood, just watching him carefully.

        “I have a constant distrust of people in my vicinity,” Paimon spoke more to himself than anyone else in the room. “I know it’s a problem, and I am working on that. I was concerned that once you spoke to my uncle that you would no longer believe it to be worth being my friend- especially after…”

        Paimon didn’t finish that particular train of thought and instead created a new one.

        “But the past is in the past, correct?”

        “We only have what is ahead of us,” Lyrem finished for him. “There is no purpose in dwelling on what we cannot change.”

        Paimon stopped pacing, and charged Lyrem, throwing him into a wide hug. This was new. Lyrem could hardly remember a time he had hugged anyone that wasn’t his wife. Regardless, it was clear to him that Paimon needed a friend now more than ever and so he welcomed the embrace and wrapped his arms around Paimon as well. They lingered there for a while.

        With an awkward patting of the back, Lyrem pulled himself away. Paimon grinned with satisfaction and patted his friend’s shoulder.

        “Thank you for always being there for me,” he said, genuinely.

        Lyrem swallowed.

        “Of course. After all,” he said, nodding, “what are friends for?”

[nokomiss]

thank you for being a friend

for @jes-cher, who requested Steph+another member of the batfam doing a group costume?

“It’s a Halloween party, though, so we can just wear our uniforms and blend in.”

Steph stared. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No?” Tim said.

“You think that we can just all waltz in there in our stupid-expensive uniforms and people will just assume we got them at Party City? Have you seen a Party City costume?”

Jason snorted. “She’s got a point, Replacement.”

“I think that you’re overly complicating it,” Tim said.

Steph stared again, then turned to Jason. “You heard that, right? Tim just told me that I was overly complicating things?”

Tim sighed. “Jason, you don’t understand where this is leading.”

“Where do you think this is leading?” Steph asked, narrowing her eyes. Jason leaned back and watched the two of them, looking entirely too amused.

“You know that you love stupid group costumes,” Tim said.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure we all love stupid group costumes, we go out every night in them,” Steph said. She would not be shamed. She was among her own people here.

“I do not go out in a group costume with you losers every night,” Jason said.

“Do you or do you not have a giant bat-symbol on your shirt?” Steph crossed her arms over her chest.

Jason remained silent up until Tim snorted, at which point he jabbed a finger in Tim’s direction and said, “Not a word out of you until you’ve had a single original outfit ever.”

“Pants,” Tim sing-songed, unfazed by Jason’s threats. “I revolutionized Robin and you know it.”

“My point is, I refuse to go in the actual shitty version of my outfit, or the sexy version, so we absolutely need undercover costumes to wear,” Steph said loudly. “Besides, we all three know that my Robin uniform was the most revolutionary, not one of you fools added hair accessories. Do you have any idea how many weapons and lockpicks you can hide in a headband?”

She settled comfortably into her chair, pulling out her phone to find costume options, secure in the knowledge that she’d won the argument. 

The case was a relatively simple one -- there was word about a mysterious shipment coming through Gotham, a contact claiming the major players were going to be at a Halloween bash, and Batgirl, Red Robin, and Red Hood had all noticed the case, no one had wanted to give it up, and thus the team up had occurred.

“We’re not actually going undercover,” Jason tried to argue, but Steph just shushed him. 

“We’re doing this. Ooh! Group costume! So we can find each other!” Steph said, scrolling through different ideas. “What should we do? Rocky Horror? That meme of the lady yelling at the cat? Ghostbusters? Heathers?” 

“We are not going as the Heathers,” Tim said, rolling his eyes. “Wait, would we get croquet mallets? I can cause a lot of chaos with a croquet mallet.” Jason grinned at them.

“We’re aiming to blend in, not draw attention to ourselves,” Tim said.

Steph had to agree. “True. We get you two out there in miniskirts, and we’re gonna draw all sorts of attention.”

“Hell yeah,” Jason said, patting his own thigh proudly.

“I’ll order something low key,” Tim said.  

Steph and Jason looked at each other in dismay. “Low key?”

“You can’t go low key at a Gotham Halloween party,” Jason said seriously. “That’ll stand out even more than our shapely legs.”

“Honestly, Tim.” Steph shook her head.

Tim looked briefly heavenward, then said, “Okay, do you want to be in charge of costumes?”

“Yes,” Steph and Jason said simultaneously. They eyed each other. 

“Teamwork is a thing,” Steph said, doubtful, but she was far more doubtful in Jason’s ability to choose a group costume up to her standards.

Jason seemed to be having similar thoughts.

Tim looked between them, realized the chaos that was about to ensue, and said tactfully, “I’m going to go out, check on these sources, make sure the info’s good,” as though they hadn’t all already independently checked the sources.  

“Weak,” Jason crowed at him as he left.

That left Steph and Jason alone with all the costume ideas the internet had to offer.  It was more of a challenge that Steph would have thought. 

“You know those costumes where someone has to be the horse’s ass? I vote we pick that. Dibs on Tim being the ass.”  Jason propped his feet up on the table and looked smug, as though his idea was brilliant.

“Great,” Steph said. “Super easy to split up and find our mark dressed like that.”

“Oh yeah, the mark,” Jason said. “Well. There are plenty of options.”

They spent several minutes attempting to come up with one, but to no avail.  

Steph froze on one option, struck with the brilliance of it. “What do you think it would take to get Bruce and Damian to patrol as the Mandalorian and Baby Yoda?”

“Surely between the two of us we have enough blackmail and guilt tripping to make it happen,” Jason said, “especially since it would spawn so much more blackmail material.”

“A totally sound investment.” Steph offered up a high five, which Jason met enthusiastically.

Steph kept scrolling, hoping for a group costume inspiration that didn’t involve t-shirts and tutus, but ideas were far more elusive than she would have thought.

“You know, I’m really rethinking our stance on the Heathers outfits,” Jason said, just as Steph hit paydirt.

“I have a better idea,” Steph said, holding her phone out gleefully. 

Jason grinned.

*

“I’m sorry, Tim, you didn’t want to get recognized, right?”

Tim scowled, which made Steph frown at him and say, “You need to get into character.”

“I don’t know why you’re making me Rose,” he grumbled, adjusting his wig. 

“Because Jason is twelve feet tall, he has to be Dorothy,” Steph explained. “And you blush if you even hear a double entendre, there’s no way you could pull off Blanche.”

“I do not blush,” Tim protested.

Steph opened her mouth, and he immediately clapped his hand over it. “Stop, I regret saying that, whatever horrible thing you were just planning on announcing, just… don’t.”

“See? You, sir, are no Blanche.”

Jason laughed, adjusting the way his own dress fit over his shoulders. They had to forgo masks, but the dresses were loose enough to hide most of their costumes underneath for a quick change.  

The party was already in swing when they arrived, even though it was barely dark. The costumes were perfect-- amid all the bright spandex, colorful wigs, and knockoff superhero costumes, their grey wigs and floral old lady dresses were easy to spot. 

The mark showed up after just thirty minutes of dancing and mingling, watching and listening carefully. Steph danced up to Jason, who was nursing a drink with a comical amount of fruit skewered in it and scanning the crowd. “Got eyes on him,” she said. 

Jason tossed back the drink and set it down. Steph snagged the skewer of fruit, eating it as they danced their way back through the crowd towards the mark. Steph tapped Tim on the shoulder as they passed him, and together they followed the guy away from the dance floor and down a long dark hall. 

The guy noticed them as he was about to unlock a door, turning and saying, “Private hallway. Party’s back that way.”

“You sure?” Jason leaned heavily against the door and Steph stepped behind the mark, pressing the now-empty skewer into his back between his shoulder blades. 

“Open the door,” Tim said from the other side.

“Please tell me the goddamn Golden Girls aren’t trying to shake me down,” the guy said, clunking his head against the door. 

Steph glanced between Jason and Tim, then shrugged. “Yep. That’s what’s happening. Open the door or it happens here in the hallway, where anyone could wander by and put it on youtube.”

The guy stared at the door, presumably weighing his options, before deciding that defeat came before humiliation and opened the door.

One glance around showed that was a mistake; Steph could see multiple crates still marked with the code they’d all noticed associated with the shipments they were chasing after. Tim slid over to the desk, and stared down at the papers scattered there. Steph could tell from his flabbergasted expression that all the evidence they needed was just lying there in the open.

She pulled a taser out of her pocket and hit the guy with a jolt, sending him falling to the floor unconscious. 

“This was almost too easy, right?” Jason glanced at them.

“Shhh, don’t say that, you’ll curse us,” Steph said. “We’re going to accept that for once things are going smooth.”

Tim took photos of the evidence while Jason and Steph took samples of everything, which lined up with their assumptions about what was going on. It was easily the easiest take-down she’d had in months. Maybe there was something to be said for teamwork.

““Sophia!” Tim said suddenly, staring down at the unconscious drug runner. “I could have been  Sophia!”

“Do you really see yourself as a Sophia?” Jason said, doubt obvious in his tone.

“Do you really see me as a Rose?” Tim shot back.

Steph snickered, finding untold joy in how very seriously Tim was taking his role. “I guess we should go,” she said. They’d accomplished all the vigilantism they’d come here for. 

A pause. 

“Maybe,” Jason said, glancing back in the direction of the party, “we should stick around. Make sure nothing else nefarious is happening. The dude could have had contacts here, it was his party.”

“You just want some of those cupcakes,” Tim accused. 

“Jason has a point,” Steph said, zip-tying the mark and stepping back, admiring her handiwork. “We could call this in anonymously, and go back to the party. No one saw who took him down.”

“Plus, we all heard B mention he had a stakeout he needed someone to cover,” Jason said. “Gotta keep busy.”

Tim weighed his options, then said, “Well. I mean. You can’t just have two Golden Girls, no one would get the costumes.”

“Exactly,” Steph said, beaming. “Can’t waste a good costume.”

(Steph already had a plan for the next costume party stakeout, which given Gotham’s flair for the dramatic, would absolutely happen again -- Team Batgirl showing up as the Sanderson Sisters from Hocus Pocus, Babs leading the way with her red hair piled up in a riot of curls on top of her head, Cass bedecked in her gown her hair tucked up into a pointy hat, and Steph laughing with her blonde hair flowing free. The Golden Girls had been fun, but a missed opportunity was a missed opportunity, and Steph was going to rectify that as soon as she could.)

[anotherkpopvictim]

When Insecurities Get the Best of You (We’ll Be There) - Namjoon X BTS Littlespace Drabble

(Gif Source: jinseas)

“anonymous asked: Hiii my favorite trope is joonie being insecure but ot6 comforting him and loving him hbnskskh i feel like i haven't read one of these in a while it'd be great if u wrote smth like that 👉🏼👈🏼”

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this! I really liked the idea, and my last little!joon X caregiver!bts fic I wrote for Namjoon’s birthday was really well-liked so obviously others want to see this relationship again :)

So here it is! Enjoy!

Relationship: Little!Namjoon X Caregiver!BTS

Rating: G

Words: 4146

Hurt/comfort, fluff

PLEASE NOTE:  This fic is a collection of short moments over the years when Namjoon felt insecure about himself and the others were there for him. Some moments were based on actual events that happened in real life, while others were completely made up. If it really happened, I will link the moment I based it on.

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As the leader of Bangtan, Namjoon was no stranger to being the unfortunate target of the brunt of embarrassment. He had taken a “class” of sorts back in the day, where he was taught exactly what it meant to be a leader. One of the main points that Namjoon spent a lot of time working on, was that a leader needed to be able to take charge when any public conflicts or awkwardness overwhelms the atmosphere of any concert, interview, or award speech. BTS had gone through their fair share of public humiliation, and it was Namjoon’s job to keep things stable and calm during those times.

Fortunately, Namjoon was really, really good at this. He’d been the one to keep Yoongi from punching that asshole B-Free in the face during that one interview near the beginning of their career that none of them would ever forget. He was the one that could seamlessly take over when any of the members got choked up at a particularly invasive question.

Namjoon was also extremely good at hiding the complicated slow burn that was the members’ romantic relationship.

It started out way back in the day with himself and Yoongi, who were both wound up from the frustrations of trainee life and frankly just horny teenagers. What began as helping each other get off every now and then developed into something more romantic as Hoseok, Jungkook and Seokjin were added to the group line up.

Then Namjoon and Yoongi became Namjoon and Yoongi and Seokjin and then as debut finally rolled around, Hoseok joined in as well. Hyung line’s relationship was confusing for a few years as they figured out the dynamics within it.

BTS’ debut also brought about the start of maknae line’s romantic relationship. The three youngest had been close since the day they’d met, but it remained platonic until the night of their debut stage, where the high of emotions made them braver and they shared tender kisses and cuddles between themselves.

Then the two separate relationships (hyung line and maknae line) began to blend together until it was one unit.

Throughout all of the developments of their relationship and even after, Namjoon constantly had to keep an eye on everyone when cameras were rolling. It was Taehyung and Jungkook that had the most difficult time holding back the lingering touches and stares and it hurt the leader that he needed to separate them so much, but it was necessary.

So, yes, Namjoon was an amazing leader, and though it wasn’t easy, he was able to put his own emotions on the back burner for his group - at least, most of the time.

Because he was human and he was far from perfect, he too had those moments where things were too overwhelming for him as well. The company could forget that sometimes, but never his members. His members were always there for him.

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

2013 (based on this moment at 1:05)

The first time Namjoon really felt incapable of handling a situation was shortly after their debut. Coincidentally, this was also the first time Namjoon ever fell into littlespace.

BTS was lucky enough to be able to perform not only the title track of their second album but also the special concept trailer performance that fans loved so much.

It started out great, the hype of the screaming crowd giving them all the confidence in their performing. It got to the point in the choreography where the back-up dancers helped pull off their outer shirts, leaving them all in white sleeveless shirts. They’d all rehearsed it a million times, but that, unfortunately, didn’t mean that it was seamless every time.

It took a moment for Namjoon to realize that both of his shirts had accidentally been ripped completely from his body, leaving his torso on display for all the people in the audience and millions through the television to see.

A numbing panic like no other went over Namjoon like a wave, his face draining of all blood beneath the bit of BB cream he had on. Then, like flicking a switch, his professional side that had been ingrained into his brain took over.

He finished off the performance while holding his shirt feebly against his exposed chest. Namjoon didn’t dare to look into the audiences’ eyes as he bowed and hurried from the stage.

The next few moments were a blur, but suddenly Namjoon found himself in their dressing room bathroom, leaning back against the closed and locked door. His breathing was coming harshly and his heartbeat was pounding in his ears so much that he could barely hear the knocking on the door behind him.

“Joonie,” came Seokjin’s comforting voice from the other side, soft and soothing. “Joonie, open the door for me, love.”

But Namjoon couldn’t. How could he open the door and reveal his weak state to the rest of his band members when he was supposed to be their fearless leader?

“Yoongi’s taken the maknaes and left for home early, so it’s just us now,” Hoseok said, making the leader aware of his presence outside the door as well. “Please, Namjoon-ah, let us in.”

With sudden desperation for comfort that he couldn’t explain, Namjoon got up and unlocked the door shakily. Jin and Hoseok came in and immediately pulled him into a tight embrace.

Namjoon felt overwhelmed with emotions - embarrassment and panic and shame being the most prominent. “H-Hyungs-” he choked out.

“Let it go, baby,” Jin encouraged, kissing the side of his head, “I know you want to cry and it’s not good to keep that all bottled up inside.”

“We’re right here, okay?” Hoseok added.

The confirmation of their support was enough for Namjoon to listen. He let the tears that he had been keeping at bay slip from his eyes and make trails down his cheeks. He heaved out a sob that was followed by another and another.

His two hyungs were there for him through his whole breakdown, holding him in their arms and whispering words of comfort into his ears.

“T-They all saw me,” Namjoon choked out, “They all saw my body. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that.”

“We know, love,” Hoseok replied, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down the leader’s arm. “It was an accident and we know it hurt you, baby.”

“J-Joonie embarrassed! Joonie don’t want fans to see his ugly tummy.”

The sudden change in the leader’s tone and his switch to speaking in third person gave his two hyungs pause for a moment and they shared a look of confusion between the two of them. Namjoon had never acted so...childish before.

Both of their minds were running a mile a minute, trying to register and adapt to this new situation.

“Namjoon-ah,” the eldest began slowly, pulling away from the other enough that he could look him in the eye, “You don’t have an ugly tummy, love. Your tummy is super cute.”

The younger glanced up timidly and looked at them with glossy eyes. “R-Really?”

Jin and Hoseok shared another look before the older returned his attention to Namjoon. Seokjin smiled gently, “Of course, Joon-ah.”

The leader slowly sat up a bit, “E-Even if Joonie doesn’t have abs?”

“Even if you don’t have abs,” Hoseok confirmed, his expression soft and fond. “Even if your skin was purple, even if you had an extra nose.”

That elicited a soft giggle out of the leader, quiet but there.

Hoseok and Seokjin felt unimaginable relief. It was hard to see their leader, their friend, their boyfriend, hurting so much.

Namjoon tossed his arms around both of their shoulders, “T-Thank you, hyungies.”

“Of course, baby.” Jin and Hoseok replied simultaneously before smiling at each other.

“Jinnie-hyungie?” Namjoon began rubbing at his drooping eyes with a fist, his lower lip pouting out cutely. “Tired.”

“Go ahead and sleep, love,” Seokjin said, adjusting Namjoon so the younger could rest his head on his shoulder. “We’ll carry you home, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Just as Hoseok finished closing all of their bags and slinging them over his shoulder, Jin appeared back in the dressing room from the bathroom with Namjoon curled around him like a koala. He looked much better than an hour ago as the oldest had gently cleaned the tears from his cheeks.

The two shared another smile and began making their way to the car waiting for them outside.

The car ride itself was uneventful other than the fond glances their manager gave them in the rearview mirror. Namjoon had shifted into Hoseok’s lap in the backseat and was attempting to curl up in a ball.

Once they’d returned to the dorm and Namjoon was tucked comfortably under the covers of his bunk bed, Hoseok and Jin snuck out from their shared bedroom and sat down together in the living room.

“So...” Hoseok began quietly, “Namjoon’s a little.”

“Namjoon’s a little,” Jin confirmed, “Can’t say I saw that one coming.”

Hoseok hummed in agreement, “This must have been the first time it happened because we both know Namjoon wouldn’t be able to keep something like this from us.”

I think so too,” Jin said, biting his lip in thought. “Should we tell the others?”

“We need to talk to Namjoon once he’s out of his headspace, I think it should be his choice.”

“Alright, but Hoseok?” the lead dancer locked eyes with his hyung’s fierce ones, “No matter what happens, we need to show Namjoon how much we love him, whether he’s in littlespace or not.”

Hoseok nodded firmly, “Always.”

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

2015

The leader of Bangtan had broken countless things over the years, whether it be objects or bones, having inherited his clumsiness from his mother. Meaningless things somehow breaking into pieces once his hands touched it, they were easier to get over, but sometimes Namjoon would cause damage to something important and he would have the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment take over him.

One such time was when Namjoon was with Yoongi in his studio, working hard on some songs that they hoped would be approved by their boss for the next album. Yoongi excused himself to go to the bathroom after having been staring at the computer screen for a good five hours.

Namjoon himself was fighting sleep, his eyes closing of their own accord and his head falling forward. He had a cup of hot coffee clutched in his hands (his fourth or fifth that night) that wasn’t really doing all that much to keep him awake anymore.

As he nodded off once more, his grip on the coffee unintentionally loosened. He felt the paper cup slip from his hands and his eyes shot open just in time to see it hit the top of the desk. The lid popped off and steaming coffee went flying everywhere, most notably all over a bunch of cords just to the side of Yoongi’s computer.

He heard a couple sizzling and popping sounds and then Namjoon watched in horror as Yoongi’s computer screen went black.

“No,” he whispered, suddenly much more awake than he was just a minute before. “No, no, no!” his voice got louder as his panic grew.

“Joon-ah?”

Namjoon’s head snapped towards the studio door, where Yoongi was standing, looking on with shock at the scene before him.

“I-I...I didn’t mean...”

Yoongi saw his friend’s slip into littlespace moments before it happened. He was at Namjoon’s side and pulling him into a comforting hug in a flash.

“It’s okay, Joonie,” he insisted, his voice soft. “It was an accident, baby. It’s okay.”

“B-But it’s gone! All hyungie’s hard work. Joonie so sorry.”

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Yoongi pulled back so he could look the younger in the eyes. “Accidents happen sometimes. Luckily, I backed up all my work last night, so I probably only lost what we worked on today.”

That didn’t really make Namjoon feel any better. In fact, it only made the guilt in his heart even heavier. The little’s eyes widened, “B-But hyungie has been working for long time! L-Like eight hours! Joonie made hyungie lose so much!” Namjoon’s shoulders sagged and he pouted down at the ground. “Joonie stupid. Joonie clumsy.”

“Hey now,” Yoongi tapped under Namjoon’s chin to get him to look at him again, “Don’t be calling yourself mean things. You’re not stupid, baby. A little clumsy maybe, but your clumsiness is cute.”

The younger perked up a bit, “Joonie cute?”

The cold-faced rapper let out a fond laugh, his eyes squinting shut for a moment as a gummy smile appeared on his face. “Yes, baby,” he replied through chuckles, “You’re the absolute cutest little one I’ve ever seen, yeah?” he leaned in a bit, “But don’t tell Jiminie that, okay? He’ll get jealous.”

The little still had tears in his eyes, but they had stopped falling. Namjoon let out a giggle, his adorable dimples that Yoongi loved so much showing themselves.

So, of course, no one could blame Yoongi when he poked at one of those dimples, which somehow led to a tickle fight on the couch, followed by a much-needed nap.

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

2016

Namjoon was overall pretty confident in himself - not in a cocky way, but a self-assured way. He knew he had a true talent for rapping and producing, not to mention his natural capability to mediate any bad situation. Even his dancing, though nowhere near Hoseok, Jimin or Jungkook’s ability, never seemed too bad.

The one thing about being an idol that really made Namjoon insecure was his singing voice. Hoseok and Yoongi also didn’t have the greatest singing voices in the group, but they had accepted that fact long ago, while Namjoon just couldn’t seem to bring himself to.

So to say that he was anxious about singing a verse on an actual album song would be an understatement. Bang PD had asked him to, and perhaps it should have been assuring for Namjoon to know that the big boss felt he was good enough to sing, he couldn’t get past his apprehensiveness.

Jimin and Taehyung accompanied him to the recording studio to meet their boss and a few other producers to begin recording. Both of them could easily tell that their hyung was nervous, though he tried his best to hide it from them.

Bang PD greeted the three of them brightly when they knocked on the recording studio’s door. “Right on time, boys. That’s what I like to see.”

“Of course, hyung-nim,” Namjoon replied, hoping that the smile on his face made up for the slight shakiness of his voice. “We’ll always do our best to be on time.”

The boss gave him a pat on the shoulder and then got right to business.

Taehyung and Jimin went in to record first, each able get their parts right without too much trouble. Namjoon tried not to be envious of the ease with which they sang, tried not to let the harsh insecurities swirling around in his head drown him.

“Namjoon-ah,” Bang PD said, gaining the leader’s attention immediately. “It’s your turn. You only have half a verse so it shouldn’t take too long. I know you’ll do well.”

The leader had to gulp against the lump growing in his throat. “Yes, sir.”

Namjoon entered the recording room and moved to stand in front of the microphone. It was funny, he had stood before this microphone countless times in the past, and yet, Namjoon had never been so terrified to approach it.

“Alright,” Bang PD’s voice came through the speaker, “Let’s start with just the first line.”

Namjoon nodded, feeling the familiar dampness of sweat beginning to form on his trembling hands. When the music started in his ears, he leaned forward and sang into the microphone.

He sounded terrible.

Even to his own ears, he was flat and sounded like an amateur.

He winced and bit his lip, eyes shutting in shame. “Sorry,” he blurted out before one of the producers could say anything. “Let me try that again.”

The second time was better, but not by much.

The producers were endlessly patient with him as they gave him direction and tips in an attempt to get the right sound out of him. It wasn’t working, that much was obviously clear after an hour with little progress.

Namjoon was fighting the panic rising up within him, his damp hands now clenched tightly into fists. He knew that it was his nerves getting to him, that he could sing the line just fine. He’d practiced enough to be sure of that, but of course, the one time it really mattered, he just couldn’t get it done.

“Are you okay, Namjoon?” Bang PD asked, genuine concern coloring his tone.

Namjoon found himself unable to answer, his tongue feeling like lead in his mouth.

He heard the door to the room opening and footsteps heading towards him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up.

First, he felt the touch of a hand on his arm and moved his gaze down to see Jimin’s small hand holding onto him. Then he looked up to meet Jimin’s gentle eyes and felt like he could get lost in them.

“Bang PD-nim said to take a fifteen-minute break,” Taehyung’s voice came from Namjoon’s other side, “They left to go get some lunch.”

The leader, even through his panicked haze, could understand the underlying meaning in the second youngest’s words. They were alone. Namjoon could break down if he wanted to.

“W-Why can’t I do it?!” he began, the words starting to pour out of him before he could stop them. “I was okay during practice. Why can’t I do it now?!”

“Hyung,” Jimin replied softly, “I think you’re just too nervous. It’s making your throat too tight and affecting your vocal cords.”

“I know,” Namjoon moaned, “I can’t help it.”

“Why are you so anxious, hyung?” Taehyung asked.

“Joonie isn’t a good singer! Joonie sounds bad!” Namjoon exclaimed, his tone getting higher in pitch as he fell into his headspace. The other two couldn’t say they hadn’t expected it. “ARMY will hate Joonie!”

“Agioo, that’s not true,” Jimin furrowed his eyebrows as his arms naturally wrapped themselves around his hyung’s shoulders. “I think your voice is very nice, love.”

“Me too,” Taehyung added, bopping the little’s nose, “Just because you might not be able to hit high notes or do a bunch of runs doesn’t mean that you’re a bad singer. And you’re really good at being on key, unlike some of the people that like to go to karaoke.”

Both Jimin and Namjoon huffed out a little laugh at that. It had become clear to everyone in the group that the easiest way to calm Namjoon down from his panic attacks was to tell the truth and add a bit of humor to keep the atmosphere light. They also made sure to never just sugar-coat their words.

Taehyung didn’t tell him that he was the best singer ever because that wasn’t the truth, but Namjoon certainly wasn’t a bad singer by any means either.

“You have to remember, Joonie,” Jimin said, “Bang PD-nim and the other producers think that you’re good enough to sing on an album song. Trust them on that, okay?”

Namjoon could feel himself calming down slowly but surely. He was still pretty far in littlespace, but his head felt clearer now. “Okay,” he nodded, taking their words to heart. “Joonie’s sorry he got scared.”

Taehyung waved it off, “Eh, we all get scared every now and then.”

Jimin and Taehyung spent the next ten minutes bringing Namjoon out of his headspace so he could record his lines when the producers returned. This meant they had to fight the urge to cuddle their hyung, which was difficult considering they were probably the two most cuddly members of their group.

When Namjoon went to try his lines once more, he kept his eyes on his two dongsaengs through the little window and sang to them. He was encouraged by the proud smiles on their faces and it helped him to relax enough to sing.

Bang PD was happy with the results and praised Namjoon once they finished an hour later, leaving the two ninety-five liner’s to finally take their hyung back to the dorm to cuddle.

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

2018 (based on this moment at 2:19)

When it happened, Namjoon couldn’t help but be brought back to that moment just after debut where something so similar had happened to him.

It was during a live performance of Fake Love that Namjoon’s innate knack for breaking everything he touches showed itself once more.

Yoongi started his verse and the six behind him began their chain dance. When Namjoon reached over to Jungkook and put his hand on his chest as the choreography went, he gripped the material too hard and was unable to release his hold before he jerked away in the next dance move.

Just like it had when it happened to Namjoon five years earlier, the leader watched in almost slow motion as the top three buttons of Jungkook’s shirt ripped off completely. The maknae’s chest was left exposed.

Namjoon saw Jungkook’s eyes widen in panic momentarily as he registered what had happened before the maknae regained his professional composure.

The rest of the performance was a blur to the leader, who couldn’t stop the insistent replaying of the panic he’d seen in Jungkook’s eyes. It had been the exact look that he’d had in his own eyes all those years ago.

Before he knew it, they were back at their dorm and someone was calling out his name.

Namjoon blinked and forced himself back into reality. He was in his bedroom now, sitting on the edge of his bed. Jungkook was sat beside him, eyeing him with a worried furrow in his brow.

“Hyung, are you okay?” he asked.

Namjoon took in a deep breath, trying (and failing) to will his anxiety away. “I’m so sorry, Jungkook.” he blurted before he could stop himself. “I’m so sorry about ripping your shirt earlier, it was an accident.”

“Oh, that’s alright, hyung,” Jungkook replied, his eyes softening. “I know you didn’t mean to do that.”

“B-But...” Namjoon stuttered, his voice quivering along with his lower lip. “But...”

Jungkook saw his leader’s slip into littlespace before it happened, so he pulled the older into his lap and wrapped his arms around him comfortingly. “I won’t lie, it made me nervous for a moment -” Namjoon whined and hugged Jungkook close to him, burying his face in the maknae’s neck, “- but it’s okay. Accidents happen, yeah love? Don’t worry about it anymore, I’m okay.”

“P-Promise?”

Jungkook guided the little’s head away from his neck and then held up his hand, his pinkie finger pointed out. “Pinkie promise.”

Namjoon linked their pinkies together and felt a wave of relief go over him. “Sorry Joonie so clumsy.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jungkook shook his head, “We all love clumsy Joonie, okay?And we’ll tell you that as many times as it takes for you to believe it.”

“Okay.”

“Now,” the maknae said, “How about the two of us go gather everyone up and we can have a sleepover tonight?”

Namjoon’s eyes lit up in excitement and he hurried to scramble off Jungkook’s lap, nearly falling into the corner of the bedside table in his haste.

The maknae caught him before it could happen, thankfully, and shook his head fondly. “Careful, love.”

Namjoon probably didn’t hear it, however, as he was already halfway out the door and screaming to the rest of the house their new plans for the night.

...

“Why do we always do this? It’s such a bad idea.”

“Stop being a party pooper, Yoongi-hyung. You know you love the cuddle pile.”

“But we don’t even all fit properly on here.”

“Shh!”

The bickering between Yoongi and Hoseok was brought to an abrupt halt when four of the other members squished together in bed with them quieted them harshly.

“Enough you two,” Jin said, his voice low, “Namjoonie’s sleeping and we don’t want to wake him up.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to take pictures,” Jimin added, body positioned awkwardly so he could get his phone to properly face the little curled up in the middle of them.

Namjoon was dressed in his blue dinosaur onesie and had a rainbow tie-dye pacifier between his lips. He looked so content pressed between his members, the hand not under his head clutching at Jungkook’s t-shirt as he mumbled a little in his sleep.

“Send those to me,” Taehyung croaked, half-asleep on the other side of Jungkook as he glanced over at Jimin snapping a few too many pictures.

“Me too!”

“Me three!”

“Me four!”

“...”

Jimin rolled his eyes and turned to the one member who hadn’t said anything yet. “Yoongi-hyung, you don’t want the pictures?”

The eldest rapper grumbled under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said they’d better be of the highest quality!”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A/N: So this one was focused more on when littlespace comes into play for Namjoon when he’s insecure, of course, so there weren’t many littlespace activities like I usually have. I hope that this was okay still, let me know!

[midnightcindy]

Fae Trade

Hoo boy y'all do I have a treat for you. May I present Fae!Nico au where the MC is a peasant that has to strike up a deal with a Faerie Lord... and he has something quite scandalous in mind as payment. This is based on traditional folklore. Warnings for smut, inexperienced MC, coerced sex, forest sex, and a whole lot of manipulative Nico. Enjoy kiddies!

The woods were dark, but that wasn’t out of place. It was nighttime after all, just after dusk, and naturally you were surrounded by obscurities. But this darkness was permeating; it seeped past your skin as if the air proximate you were somehow tainted by it, inking the crisp with black shadows and staining your veins, much like the mud under you left its own smudges on the soles of your bare feet. There was barely a moon tonight, a tiny sliver of light amongst the stars. You could just make out the outlines of your breath as you waited.

           A rustle to your side caught your attention. You sucked in a breath, but it was only a fawn stepped out from behind a pine. It peered at you curiously, and you did not move. It continued on, bounding over the ferns that littered the forest floor until it, too, was gone. Your heart fluttered. It had to be almost time.

           Then, his laughter, soft but clear, filled your head. You sucked in a breath, but tried to remain still. You heard a quick skip of footsteps from behind, then silence. The sound was in front of you, rustling the brush, and disappeared once again. You were beginning to tremble, unable to see the one watching you, teasing you.

           “I can feel your heartbeat,” he giggled, the sound echoing around you. His voice seemed to be coming from above. Your eyes strained in the darkness, but could only see the shape of the tree line against the night sky. “Are you afraid of me?”He seemed to ask the question genuinely.

           “No,” you lied.

           He laughed again, but this time his voice was full, ringing in your left ear. “You are brave, then.”

           You jumped, but his hands were already around you. He cradled your back, tugging you close, and you stared into the creature’s golden, glowing eyes. They lit his face, and you could finally see the boyish features glistening in the night: the pixie nose, the teasing smirk, the pink sheen of his sweeping hair. You gulped. “B-brave?”

           The creature brushed his humanlike nose against yours, teasing. “You say you are unafraid of me, and therefore you must be brave.” He giggled again, the smirk on his lips as charming as the smooth voice flowing over you. “Or, you are a liar, and even so, lying to one of the Fae takes its own amount of courage.”

           You shivered at how close his fingers were to your hips. Swallowing the anxiety, you closed your eyes and backed away from his hold. Thankfully, he let you.

           His catlike eyes narrowed, but glistened with glee. “So,” the creature began, “what brings a sweet morsel such as yourself to the sacred faerie circle, at such a poignant time?” As he spoke, he gazed up toward the waning crescent in the sky, barely visible. “The final night before the new moon is a magical one, full of possibilities,” he crooned, circling you. “Have you come to make a request?”

           You nodded, your voice weary. “I- I have.”

           “And what do you desire, sweet one,” the creature asked, voice dripping behind your right ear. His fingertips grazed your bare shoulders, his chest brushing your back.

           “I need healing for my village,” you asked, not daring to turn around.

           “Healing from what, darling?” The faerie continued to pry.

           You held your fingertips together to keep them from shaking. “A terrible plague has swept through our land,” you said. “The village is dying, slowly. So very few of us remain now. M-my family is gone…” You stared down at your hands, your cold fingertips getting blurry as your eyes filled with helpless tears. Tears of grief, tears of frustration, and tears of a person seeking their final option. “Please, can you heal those of us who are left? Can you keep the plague from hurting anyone else in my village?”

           Suddenly, he was in front of you again. When you looked up, his face was far more serious. “What you ask is a great task, my darling. It shall come at no small price.”

           You nodded, finally meeting those glowing, golden eyes. “I know.”

           The faerie gazed up and down your body, to your worn dress and bare feet. “What could a peasant girl such as yourself possibly offer me, a noble Fae of Titania’s court?”

           Sighing heavily, you sank to your knees. “I can offer no riches or talents. All I have is my life to give, and whatever you would do with it.”

           The creature smirked, his boyish features twisting maliciously. “My sweet morsel, surely you can do better than that.” Crouching down before you, the faerie grabbed your chin in a harsh grip. “If you are offering servitude, I can assure you have more than enough servants to wait on me. If you are offering your body, then I have plenty of playthings to entertain me. If you wish to give me your last breath, then you are bold to assume that your life is worth anything to me. So, I ask again: is that really what you wish to offer me?”

           You trembled under his stare, daring only now to look into his eyes. Your throat was dry, gut wrenching when you saw the knowing look on his face. He already knew what he wanted. You inhaled, chest rising shakily. “What do you ask of me?”

           A large, serpentine grin grew across his face, teeth like daggers shining. “A child.”

           You pulled away from his hold, fear rising fully in your veins. Dying at the hands of this monster was bearable, but to kidnap an innocent soul? That was something you could not do. You shook your head. “Th-there are none left in the village, they were too weak… Surely, you would not expect me to-”

           “I can ask anything I wish of you, human,” the creature spat, standing to loom over you. “And if you want my power, then you will do so.”

           “I… I cannot take a child…” You were sitting weakly on the ground now, your legs splayed in the frigid mud and your hands clasped to your chest.

           That was when a thick laugh floated toward you, and you were once again nose to nose with the faerie. “Who said I would ask you to take one, darling,” he crooned, his long fingers grasping your knee. “When your womb is more than capable of giving me what I want?”

           You gasped, trying to shrink away from his hands. The creature only grabbed at your other knee, separating them and sliding his body between your thighs. You fell back, your hands digging into the soft earth to prop yourself, while your knees rested against the faerie’s hips. “H-how could you a-ask me t-to-”

           “Bear me a child, sweet one,” he continued strongly. He held himself over your body, fingers almost meeting yours in the mud as he explained, “It will only take tonight. The moment you conceive, I promise I will heal all those who still have life in your village, and no sickness will ever touch those who live within its borders.”

           Your cheeks flushed at the prospect of giving yourself to this horrid creature. You couldn't help but ask. “W-why?”

           “That is none of your concern,” he said, nipping at your earlobe. “When your womb is full and the child is born, I will return for it.” He pressed a hand to your belly, grinning with a moan. “What a fresh, young womb. Untainted. Perfect for my child to grow.”

           Your lips trembled as you closed your eyes. Your sacrifice was worth saving those closest to you. You lay back onto the ground, allowing the faerie to press himself against you fully. You simply nodded.

           “My darling, are you truly making this deal? If you wish to exchange my services for your own, you must tell me your terms with your beautiful voice.”

           A tear slid down your temple as you whispered the words that would seal your fate. “I will bear you a child, faerie. In exchange, you will heal my village of all disease, and protect it from any further harm.”

           The creature smiled, sitting back on his knees. “I, Nico, Lord of the Woodland Fae, Obedient to Great Queen Titania, will offer you what you ask. In return, I accept your conditions. Should you not deliver on your part, or should you refuse to give me what I want, our deal will be no more. Do you understand?”

           You nodded, crossing your arms and clutching your shoulders, realizing the true power of the monster you were selling yourself to. “I do.”

           Pushing you back to the ground, Nico harshly covered your body with his. His hands flew to your dress, ripping with his long nails at the fabric and leaving it in shreds. His teeth found their way to your neck, and he bit down into the column of flesh.

           You screamed when the searing pain of his bite flew through your body. He was being so vicious with you, as if trying to accomplish his goal quickly. You cried in shame, mouth falling open when the throbbing pain on your neck was greeted with a warm lick.

“Shh,” Nico hushed. “Do not be afraid anymore, lover. After tonight you will be marked by me, and no one may ever touch you again. You will see that this is a gift I am giving you.”

You continued to whimper as Nico removed his dressings. His hands flew to your now naked sides, and he picked you up in his arms, settling you onto his lap. He cradled your back with one strong arm, and cupped your sex with his opposite hand. You couldn't stop shaking from the humiliation. How could you do this? How could you allow a creature of the woods to let himself into you? How could you give him what was meant for someone who loved you?

Nico swallowed thickly, his voice wavering. “Your innocence is radiating from your skin, sweet one. I can feel you shaking with nerves. Tell me, have you ever been touched here?” One long finger sank between your folds, caressing the slit gently.

You arched your back from the feeling, pushing away from the faerie’s chest with a fist.

“No?” Nico continued running his finger up and down your folds, pressing against the bud on every rise. “Not even by your own hand?”

You had thought about the sexual pleasure a person could experience before, but you never thought to test it yourself. Even in the rare occasions where a boy would make your belly twinge, you thought it too shameful to play with yourself to dirty thoughts. As the creature’s fingers stopped, the pressure directly over a most sensitive place, you let out a shaking breath.

“Did you know,” he growled in your ear, “that a child is most successfully conceived when a human feels pleasure as well?” The faerie grabbed your chin, and tilted it back to face him. “I would very much like to watch you pleasure yourself, morsel. I want this night to be a success for both of us.”

Your eyelids fluttered as Nico held your hand and guided it toward your core. You tried pulling it away at first, but the dangerous glint in his eyes told you that it was too late to defy him now. So, you let him splay your fingers over your sex, his middle finger moving your own to slip between your folds. You didn't realize how soft you felt down there, and how good it could feel when your fingertips pressed against the tiny bundle at the apex of your slit. You moaned softly, your cheeks flushing at the new sensations.

Nico pressed his lips to your red cheek. “That’s it, lover. Get yourself ready for me. Slip a finger inside.” He guided your middle finger to your entrance, and you opened yourself for the first time.

It was strange, having something inside of you. It wasn't unpleasant, but foreign.

“Good,” he continued. “Add this finger now.”

That became more difficult. You groaned a little at how your opening stretched just the slightest from your two first fingers.

“You’re doing wonderfully, lover. Slide them in and out, like so,” Nico said, taking your wrist and pushing your fingers deeper. You found a steady rhythm, and he released your wrist to press two fingers to the bundle of nerves again. At the sound of your gasp, the faerie pressed a kiss to your temple. “That’s it, sweet one. Focus on the sensations of my fingers on your clit. It feels wonderful, doesn't it? To be caressed and held by a lover? Can you feel your insides getting wet for me?”

Nico was right: your inner walls were getting slicker by the second, and it was easier to slip your fingers inside. “I c-can’t b-breathe,” you gasped, confused at the jolts of pleasure coming from your lower abdomen.

“That’s your body getting ready for me, lover,” Nico breathed into your ear. “Let it welcome my touch. You will enjoy it so much more if you give into it.”

“I c-can’t move,” you said, hands freezing inside of you.

“Good,” Nico said, his own voice shaking. “Push your fingers deep inside, and then curl them toward your heart.” His hand moved furiously over your clit as he instructed you.

“Ah,” you moaned helplessly, doing as he said and feeling the swells of pleasure from inside and out. You could feel Nico rubbing your clit against your fingers that rested inside of you, pressing against a spongey patch of flesh. There was something so overwhelming about it all, that you couldn't keep your eyes open or your voice down. You began to cry out, feeling a tidal wave of something wonderful careening toward your belly.

“You’re going to cum, lover,” Nico said, voice heavy. “Go ahead, feel it. Feel your body opening up to me.”

That was the end. You felt an explosion of pleasure inside of you, jolting out toward your fingertips and buzzing in your brain. Your eyes squeezed shut, your hips locking into place as your opposite hand held onto Nico’s, which was still gently circling your clit. Just as your conscious thought completely left you, you felt a firm kiss against your lips.

Your eyes shot open, moans still lilting behind your teeth, to see Nico’s face connecting affectionately to yours. His eyelids fluttered, his lips working passionately against your own as your high came down. His fingers retreated from your core just as your own soaked digits unfurled and fell against your thigh. Nico’s hand found purchase in your hair, pulling you into a deeper kiss as his arm held your back tight. He moved you to straddle his lap, where his engorged member twitched readily against your stomach. When he ended the kiss, he licked a gentle strip across your bottom lip before opening his glowing eyes. Nico’s breath was thin as he said, “Now you will take all of me, sweet one. I will mold you to fit my shape and no one will ever compare. Are you ready?”

You were too drunk and delirious from your orgasm that you couldn't help the fervent nod that you gave him. Panting, you rested your forearms against his shoulders and your forehead against his. You sat up on your knees, allowing Nico to align himself with your entrance.

“Say my name,” the faerie whispered.

“Nico,” you breathed back.

“Again,” he said, pressing the swollen tip to your dripping sex.

“Nico,” you whined, settling yourself down until the head of his cock was fully inside of you.

“You’re being so obedient, morsel,” he crooned, nipping at your bottom lip and squeezing your breasts. “I wonder how you will feel when my cock has stretched you wide?”

Grabbing your hips, he sat you down fully on his lap, and you screamed. The sensation burned, and the pleasure you were still feeling from your first orgasm was the only thing keeping you from pulling him out. You covered your mouth with your hand to keep from shrieking from the pain.

Nico yanked your hand away, rocking his hips up into you once. “Say my name.”

“Nico!” You cried, throwing back your head.

“That’s it, lover. You have all of me inside of you now. You’re full with my cock, and soon you’ll be full with my heir. How does it feel to know the only thing to ever breed you is a Fae?”

You whimpered every time he thrust upward into you. It still ached inside, but Nico’s words were filling your mind with other things than just discomfort. It felt so good to have him inside of you, even if your body was unused to a man’s cock.

Grabbing onto your neck, Nico held you upright as he laid down on the ground. He continued thrusting his hips up, fucking you from beneath. “This feels divine, lover, but I have no intention to make love to you tonight. I want you full of my seed.” Throwing you sideways by your neck, you landed on your back on the earth. Nico quickly mounted you again. You groaned when he stretched you for the second time. Now Nico was done being sweet, it seemed. He rolled his hips into you rapidly, propping his hands on either side of your head to angle himself upward into your sex. “I can feel your empty womb begging to be filled. You will bear me a healthy child, I can feel it,” Nico panted, fingers clawing into the dirt.

The familiar bundle of nerves was starting to swell again. You grasped onto Nico’s hips as they fucked you, opening your legs wider and meeting his thrusts with your own. You wanted to feel that high again, no matter the cost.

Nico chuckled. “See? Your body is mine now. It's responding to me all on its own. Do you want to cum again, lover? You will definitely take to my seed if you cum.” He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours sloppily. “I am going to make you suck me in deeper, sweet one. I am going to fill you with me until you’re bursting. You want that, don't you?”

Your eyes rolled back as you nodded. “Yes, Nico,” you whined, wrapping your legs around him.

Nico’s hips stuttered. His eyes shut and brows furrowed, his mouth a snarl as he said, “Cum, darling! Now!”

You stared up at him in bliss, watching his body twitch in its last effort to breed you. You felt the warmth of his climax fill you, pressing against your womb. When he looked down at you, his eyes glowed brighter than before in the dark. He looked so ethereal, even as he gritted his teeth in his last hard thrust. When you felt his final push reach your deepest point, and his cock swell with his orgasm, you finally came.

Arching your back away from him, Nico’s hands held you tight to his hips, locking your squirming body in place. You keened and moaned, whimpering his name in ecstasy. Your vision flickered, your muscles tightening as your veins pulsed with pleasure. When you were a panting, breathless mess, you both fell lax onto one another.

In the quiet moment after your coupling, you felt a sudden snap in the air. The energy around you buzzed, raising goosebumps on your skin. Nico held a hand to your trembling belly, and nodded, pleased. “You came through on your end of the bargain, sweet one,” he chuckled. “You have conceived my child.” Standing up, Nico was suddenly fully clothed.

You looked down to your own body: sweaty, dirty, and nude. You pressed a hand to your stomach, but you could feel nothing. You asked, “How can you be sure?”

The creature smiled, but said nothing. He turned and walked back to the edge of the trees. “You will return to your village and find it healthy and thriving,” he said into the darkness. “I cannot break my promise to you, and I cannot lie. So, know this, lover.” Spinning back toward you, his voice turned dark. “I expect you to take great care of my growing child. I will return to your bed every time the moon takes this shape to ensure that my property is healthy. Should I find that you are attempting to evade your responsibility, I will not hesitate to slaughter your village and make you watch.”

You gulped, fearful tears returning to your eyes. You cradled your abdomen, suddenly protective. “I promise, I will take care of them.”

The faerie smirked, and sauntered back to you. He crouched down, and almost sweetly kissed your forehead. “I know you will, sweet morsel. Farewell. I will see you soon enough.”

When you blinked, he was gone. You held your naked shoulders, curling into a ball on the ground. You were alone again.

But from the trees above, a pair of golden eyes watched over you, along with a pair of silver ones. “Titania will not be pleased, Nico.”

Nico smirked. “Perhaps not, Byron.”

Byron shook his head, watching the human girl stand and attempt to cover herself with the tatters of clothing that were left. “When she finds out that you have produced an heir without her approval, she will no doubt have the child and its mother killed.”

“Only if she can find them,” Nico said, watching over his lover as she walked away from the woods.

Byron’s brows furrowed. “You cannot seriously think that this girl will go willingly with you, do you?”

Nico shrugged. “I’ve watched her long enough to know what she will do when pushed in the right direction.”

“Is that why you had me summon that plague, then,” Byron asked, “for this girl’s attention?”

“Not just her attention,” Nico smiled, sated as he leaned back on the branch. “Her body, her affections, her spirit… I want it all.”

“She will neither fall for your tricks nor return your affections,” Byron said, crossing his arms.

Nico giggled wickedly. “We shall see. I have nine months to convince her.” Nico groaned, dragging a finger along his mouth. “And after tonight, I believe she will be much more easily persuaded.”

[eggman-empire]

Dr. Eggman’s Good Deeds

by Dr. Mechano

Dr. Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik: Nemesis of Sonic the Hedgehog and would-be conqueror of the world. For almost thirty years, this man's turned animals into robots, unearthed ancient monsters, and threatened the planet with doomsday weapon after doomsday weapon. In short, he's a villain's villain. A true bad egg. 

But rather than celebrate his feats of villainy, I wanted to talk about the rare times across the franchise that Eggman has performed truly good acts. Eggman's capacity to care, to show kindness, to help others.

Now, I want to clarify what I mean here. For the sake of this list:

I will not be including Eggman teaming up with the heroes to save the world. These acts of "goodness" inherently carry an ulterior motive; That being to save himself and make sure there's still a world for him to conquer. Plus, half the time it's one of his own schemes going out of control anyway. So just saving the world in and of itself won't make the cut for the purpose of my post.

I will also not be including a mere lack of cruelty as "goodness." You don't get a cookie for feeding your prisoners or not torturing people. So while I do think the times where Eggman's lack of cruelty has been pointed out (such as in Unleashed) are important, they're not what I'm talking about either.

I'm specifically talking about times when Eggman does something kind, or helpful, or selfless toward others without some villainous ulterior motive. I will also be including spinoff material, since the majority of these examples come from those rather than the games. So! With that out of the way, let's begin!

Sonic Lost World - Eggman saves Tails

Now, I mentioned that merely teaming up with the heroes doesn't warrant a mention. But I think this goes beyond that.

Tails attaches Cubot's head to a Crabmeat, which causes Cubot to become very aggressive, attacking Tails. Eggman - without a moment to think or evaluate the situation - immediately leaps into harm's way and shoves Tails to safety, honoring his truce with his enemies by putting his own safety on the line to protect them.

Now, you could make the argument that Eggman is only keeping Tails around because he needs him for Sonic to take care of the Zeti (which could also be an argument for Eggman saving Sonic himself later in the same game), but consider: A.) How spur-of-the-moment this was; Eggman didn't have time to calculate how he could use this situation to his advantage, and just leaped as soon as Tails was in danger, and B.) He put himself at risk to save someone else.

Yes, by the end of the game - after the terms of their truce were met, with the Zeti defeated and the machine disabled - Eggman goes right back to fighting them. But during their time working together, Eggman is an honorable ally who ultimately saves Tails's and Sonic's lives. I feel like this goes beyond simply helping them out of necessity and warrants mentioning here.

As Eggman himself put it, he's "a complicated guy."

Sonic X - Eggman talks an enraged Sonic down, and has his crew save Chris and Cosmo from the Metarex

In Sonic X, the Metarex commander Black Narcissus attacked Chris and Cosmo, which nearly drove Sonic into an unstoppable rage.

Cue Eggman stepping in to provide Sonic with some perspective and remind him not to lose his cool. He manages to calm Sonic down, informing him that he sent Shadow to rescue Chris and Cosmo, and that they're fine. Eggman then proceeds to berate Black Narcissus for his cruelty, saying in no uncertain terms that hurting innocent people is wrong, and humiliates the commander by having Decoe, Bocoe, and Bokkun beat him to the curb.

Eggman didn't have to do any of this. Saving Sonic's friends or even calming Sonic down didn't really provide him any strategic advantage. But he did, and then explained why: Because Black Narcissus crossed Eggman's own personal moral code, and the Doc wasn't having it.

Sonic X Comics - El Gran Gordo

After initially becoming a luchador as part of a get-rich-quick scheme, where the Doctor won matches by cheating, Eggman eventually grew to love the spectacle and public adoration of being a hero. So for a time, he stuck with the wrestling gig, without any villainous intent this time.

This lands him in trouble when the hulking Andes the Ginormous challenges Gordo to a fight and completely mops the floor with him. Without his robots and gadgets to help him cheat, Eggman is no match for the might of Andes, and is just about to tap out to save himself any more pain or humiliation... when suddenly, from the stands he sees the tears of his number-one fan, Chris, and hears him say exactly what Eggman has perhaps always needed to hear: "I believe in you."

Despite the pain, despite his exhaustion, and despite being ridiculously out-matched, Gordo gets his second wind, and through pure raw determination, defeats Andes the Ginormous, claims the championship belt, and lives up to Chris's idealistic expectations. Chris's hero refused to let him down, and even in a moment of weakness, found the strength to win.

The El Gran Gordo arc is also my favorite story in the entire Sonic franchise, and I know that over the past decade I've gushed about it enough times already. It's just so good.

Sonic X Comics - Eggman the Hedgehog

In Sonic X issue 37, Sonic and Eggman swap bodies.

Blessed with Sonic's newfound speed and power, does Eggman attempt to use the hedgehog's body to take over the world? Nope. Just the opposite: Eggman loves being Sonic, and being seen as a hero to the world (which echoes his temporary stint as El Gran Gordo), and - upon hearing the president was kidnapped - attempts to rescue him. He actually seems content being the hero, and wants to use the fame and glory Sonic already has as a jump-start to his brand new heroic career.

Now, this begs the question: If X comic Eggman wants to be a beloved hero to the masses so badly, why doesn't he just reform? Why go through the middleman of luchador disguises or hijacking your arch-enemy's body to live out a life of heroism? He could just be Eggman and be a good guy, especially since this particular version of Eggman is so driven by wanting love and adoration, which heroism gives him in droves.

Ah well, he's a complicated guy.

Sonic Boom - Eggman chooses Amy's friendship over personal gain

In "Fuzzy Puppy Buddies," Eggman and Amy discover that they share a mutual interest in a collectible tabletop game about adorable dogs. They spend the episode bonding and actually striking up a genuine friendship over their newfound hobby, working out an arrangement to still be enemies on the battlefield, but friends in their off time.

At PuppyCon, Eggman steals a puppy figurine, and Amy demands he do the right thing and give it back. So she challenges him to a game, wins, and gives Eggman an ultimatum: He can either return the figurine, or their friendship is over. Eggman hesitates at first, but relents, ultimately choosing Amy's friendship over the rare figurine he wanted. The episode ends with the two of them happily playing another game of Fuzzy Puppies in Eggman's base.

I like this episode, because it really gets at who Boom Eggman is. He's a lonely guy who wants friends more than a serious conqueror or evildoer. And when actually given friendship and positive reinforcement, he become a slightly better person.

Sonic Boom - Eggman the Wingman

In "Tails' Crush," Tails has a crush on Zooey the fox, and keeps getting astoundingly bad romantic advice from his friends about how to ask her out. Tails ultimately makes a fool of himself and gets no closer to truly expressing his feelings.

Eggman witnesses this shameful display and, declaring that "the bro code trumps the enemy thing," gives Tails some solid romantic advice: Be confident in yourself and quit trying to copy others. He then immediately launches into an attack on the village - he is a villain, after all - and Tails, taking Eggman's advice, regains his confidence and saves the day. He gets a kiss from Zooey and ultimately ends up in a long-term relationship with her for the rest of the show; and we can thank Eggman for giving Tails the push he needed.

Sonic Boom - Eggman saves Beth the Shrew

In "Don't Make Me Angry," Eggman's experiments go awry and lead to him temporarily transforming into an adorable little creature every time he gets mad. In order for the effects to wear off, Eggman must avoid getting angry for an entire 48 hours.

When Sonic realizes Eggman's condition, he takes pleasure in mocking Eggman for it - hoping to goad him into getting angry. Eventually he succeeds, causing Eggman to become the purple creature as the village laughs at his transformed state. But the young scientist-in-training, Beth the Shrew, takes pity on Eggman and doesn't mock him along with the other villagers. She shows up at his base with cookies a couple of days later to try to make him feel better; a gesture Eggman is touched by, despite the cookies themselves being rather unappetizing (they were made with toothpaste).

While exploring Eggman's lab, Beth accidentally falls into the trash compactor, which is automated and set to go off soon. Eggman frantically tries to save Beth from being crushed, but is too large to fit into the compactor himself. So he does the only thing he can: He goes out of his way to become angry so that he can morph into the purple creature, fit into the trash compactor, and pull Beth to safety. Initially, he has trouble doing this, and can't find any way to get angry in time - the futility of which itself ends up making him angry, allowing him to transform and save Beth from being crushed just in the nick of time.

This entire episode revolves around Eggman going out of his way - seriously doing everything he could, including morphing into a form he hates - to save a child's life. I think that's great.

__________

So, these are some of the immediate off-hand examples I had of Eggman doing outright good things without any villainous undertones.

Share your opinions! Do you like stories that show some of Eggman's nicer side? Do you prefer takes on him that are just evil without any redeeming qualities? Maybe somewhere in the middle?

Or maybe you just feel like talking in-depth about any of these specific examples? Or you'd like to add some of your own that I didn't cover? There's a lot to talk about here, so feel free to chime in from whatever angle you want! Reblog and add your own thoughts, or just leave a comment!

As for me, I love this stuff. Eggman showing a nicer, more humane side to himself is something I pretty much always enjoy seeing. So it's no surprise that X and Boom are my favorite takes on the character overall; even if I do also enjoy his more sinister incarnations in their own way.  In the end, I love that Eggman's a character with as much range as he has. Some stories can make him borderline-monstrous, while others give the impression that he could make a great hero if he'd just give up on world domination. And those latter stories are among my favorites in the Sonic franchise.

This is Dr. Mechano, hoping to bring you more Eggman Editorials in the future!

[lozza342]

OK everyone, I’m practically dying here. There is little to no content for IwaKin and I can’t keep this alive by myself. Help me hang in there, please!

I had a day off work today because I feel like death. I finished a big ol’ pwp IwaKin and you better enjoy it or I might actually die.

[NSFW] Starting NOW

Contains: Dom/sub themes, semi-public sex, deep-throating, cock rings, orgasm delay/denial, dry orgasm, light bondage, cock-warming, hair-pulling, breath play, implied humiliation kink and, of course, fluff.

They just like being daring. Also Kindaichi has the biggest praise kink ever, and might be a little bit of a masochist.

Businessman AU, because I like the idea of office sex and these two scream these roles. Please love them. I also added Ushijima as Iwaizumi’s boss, idk why but I love him also.

OH and if you do love them (or me, you can love me too if you want), send me an ask or private request! I do this for self-indulgence, but I can indulge others!

The screen blurred about a minute ago. He's staring at vague shapes of black lines on the monitor. His hands are stuck to the keyboard with sweat, unmoving.

"Kindaichi."

Snapped out of his trance, his head whips up to see his boss's one o'clock, and he makes a squeak of surprise. Really, he wants to bash his head on the desk, but he doesn't think it's appropriate in front of a man of significantly high rank in the company. "E-Evening, sir." He says, playing off the squeak.

It comes out more of a whisper than fully-formed words.

"Sore throat?"

"N-No, I-" Kindaichi's fingers curl, digging crescent-shaped into his palms. "I'm fine… Ha-" Gritting his teeth, Kindaichi takes a breath. "Iwaizumi-san isn't ba-ack yet."

The man in front of him frowns, extends a hand to Kindaichi’s face and in the moment, he can't even recoil from it.

The backs of his fingers are so cool, pressing against his sweaty forehead.

"You're burning up, do you need some water?" He asks, face contorting in concern. It's quite endearing to see that on Ushijima's face, but Kindaichi isn't able to think anything right now.

"No- No that- I'm OK, you don't have to do that," Kindaichi assures, hands up to placate him, "Thank you, but, uh, could you possibly… r-reschedule?"

Looking around to the office behind, as if Iwaizumi would pop out of nowhere, Ushijima hums. "When will he be back?"

"H-Half hour?"

Apparently not.

"M-Maybe quarter?" He corrects, eyes watering.

Better.

Ushijima makes a rumbling hum before nodding. "I'll come back in fifteen minutes." He says, turning and walking back out again.

Kindaichi keeps his composure for all of ten seconds while the door down the hall shuts behind Ushijima, before sagging into the chair and letting out a long, drawn-out moan.

Calloused fingers soothe his tense thighs in reward for what he just did, and Kindaichi lets his teary eyes close. Warm streaks of water drip down his cheeks as he lies back panting open-mouthed, uncaring if another person comes in.

Iwaizumi's tongue runs along the bottom edge of his cock ring. "You should get back to work, Kindaichi." Iwaizumi suggests, voice wrecked. Still, remarkably composed for someone just deep-throating him.

"Y-Yessir." Kindaichi moans, revelling in Iwaizumi's tongue a few moments more before Iwaizumi pulls back and leaves him with nothing.

Kindaichi knows when Iwaizumi 'suggests' something, it's best to follow it. So Kindaichi leans back forward, elbows on the desk, and begins typing. He can't quite remember where he left off, but in his immaculate record of keeping order, one slip-up couldn't hurt.

It would be Iwaizumi's fault if he double-booked, or agreed to something Iwaizumi wanted to avoid.

Like a meeting over lunch with Oikawa and Matsukawa.

Good afternoon both,

I can confirm he is free between twelve and two on Friday. I shall let him know you expect him at your office just after midday.

Kind Regards,

Kindaichi Yuutarou

PA to Iwaizumi Hajime

Well, it might be important…

The sound of typing seems to satisfy Iwaizumi, and he sinks back down on his cock. Expert tongue curling around his shaft and sucking silently. Kindaichi can't seem to understand why he enjoys it like this. At least the other way around, he's the one being pleasured.

Still, Kindaichi can't really complain, even as Iwaizumi bobs his head, sinks all the way down and swallows around him, as he's forced to come dry while his hips are held down. He tries to chase further orgasm, a satisfying one, body bucking violently as Iwaizumi continues teasing him, but it gets him nowhere.

Oversensitive, Kindaichi whines, bottom lip bitten while fingers remove his ring, then begin to pump him with purpose. Kindaichi slumps over his desk, head resting on crossed forearms.

"Hah-Hajime- Too- Too much-" He stutters between whimpers, but Iwaizumi pinches his thigh softly.

"We're at work, Kindaichi."

"S-Sorry, Iwaizumi-san." He corrects, earning him a tongue swiping over the head of his cock slowly but surely forced to harden in Iwaizumi's hold.

"You're doing well, Kindaichi. Would be a shame if someone else walked in though, don't you think?" Iwaizumi said with humour hidden beneath mocking.

Honestly, Kindaichi couldn't care less anymore. It's not like he's the one who started it. Iwaizumi would have all the explaining to do. Why he's casually sucking off his PA when he should be in a meeting with his own boss. "He'll be- twelve minutes."

"Too long…"

Kindaichi yips as his chair is pushed backwards, and quickly leans away from the desk to sit back in the chair, gripping the armrests. "What are you-"

Not even bothering to wipe his spit-shined lips, Iwaizumi leans up to catch Kindaichi's own, thrusting his tongue into his mouth like he's wont to do when he wants him to shut up.

And you bet Kindaichi obliges, words dissolving in his mouth as he lets Iwaizumi take it over, tasting thickness of sweat. Iwaizumi still holds him in his hand, deft fingers sliding through spit and precome just to hear the wanton noises in the back of his throat.

After the initial shock, Kindaichi slowly relaxes his muscles to fall limp in the chair, gasping and moaning between wet, messy kisses. Satisfied with the result, Iwaizumi pulls back. "Tell Ushijima I'm back."

"What-"

"Call him."

"I-Iwaizumi-san?" Kindaichi asks unsurely, biting his lip, timid gaze following the movement as Iwaizumi stands.

"Return me the favour. Meetings are dreadfully boring." Iwaizumi grumbles, almost petulant, "Especially with him."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kindaichi nods "O-OK…"

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, like he was expecting him to refuse, but grins all the same. "Ah, but better put this back on."

Kindaichi licks his lips, eyes wide and nodding like a car ornament when he spots the ring slung around Iwaizumi's middle finger. Maybe he's a little far gone, pressure in his cock maddening. Although he needs to come, the idea in his head is appealing.

However, when Kindaichi reaches for it, Iwaizumi pulls his hand away. "I can do it. You call Ushijima."

The metal is still warm where Iwaizumi teases it over his cooling skin, running the ridge from tip to base while he kneels back down to get closer. "Yessir." He says breathily, leaning forward to pick up his phone and speed dial Ushijima's number.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Even the mere sound of him saying his greeting makes Kindaichi jump, but it could also have been the way Iwaizumi sucked on the head of his cock, flicking his tongue over his urethra teasingly.

"Yes?" Kindaichi squeaked, until his entire body thrummed hot, face tingling. "Ah! S-Sorry, Ushijima-san," Iwaizumi was grinning around Kindaichi, trying not to laugh at his expense. "I- ah- just wanted to let you know, Iwaizumi-san is b-back now."

His teeth are gritted hard as Iwaizumi pulls off with a small pop, replacing his mouth with the cock ring and sliding it down in a fluid motion. Kindaichi tries not to make a noise, covering his mouth with his hand as tears drip over his cheeks.

Thank you, Kindaichi-kun. I'll be there in five minutes.

He hangs up without waiting for an answer, as is typical of Ushijima, and the clock is now ticking. Shakily, Kindaichi struggles putting the receiver down, smashing it into the phone awkwardly.

Kindaichi's heart doesn't need to go any faster, but it does, pounding rapidly against his ribcage so hard his chest aches, but he loves it. The adrenaline pumps through him and leaves his mind dizzy. "On his way?" Iwaizumi asks too casually as he pushes Kindaichi's chair out again and stands up.

"Y-Yeah, five minutes."

"Great." Iwaizumi says with a smile more devious than warm. "We should probably get you into my office, then."

"Yeah." Kindaichi agrees dumbly, though his limbs don't move. Iwaizumi takes it upon himself to grab his hand and pull him out of his chair. It accompanies a peeling sound, his sweaty skin off the leather, and Kindaichi grimaces.

"You wanna put something on?"

"N-Nah, let's just-"

Five minutes.

Ushijima is pretty - make that scarily - accurate with timing. Kindaichi's years as Iwaizumi's PA taught him that.

Among other things…

Kindaichi still somehow manages to trip over his own feet when Iwaizumi pulls him through into his office - conveniently just opposite his desk, through glass doors so he can communicate wordlessly when he's bored. If he's significantly bored, he'll summon Kindaichi with a 'come hither' motion, never failing to send a chill up his spine.

Iwaizumi steadies him with hands on his arms, soothing the skin there. "Careful, Kindaichi." He says in genuine concern, somehow completely unperturbed by Kindaichi's half-nakedness. "Stay here, I need to wash up." Before Kindaichi can even affirm, Iwaizumi pecks a kiss to his lips, fingers running through his hair where he pulls his head down. "I love you, by the way."

"I-" Kindaichi begins to say it back, but he can't quite get there when Iwaizumi presses a finger to his lips.

"I know, Yuutarou… I know. You don't have to tell me."

Kindaichi simply stares after him as Iwaizumi dips out to the washroom, the sound of soft breathing falling dull in the empty air. "I want to."

Maybe he's good at showing it, but he still wants to say it.

"I love you too, Hajime."

The ridiculousness of standing bare-ass in Iwaizumi's mostly see-through office doesn't get to him until he looks down to his feet curling toes nervously in the carpet and his raging cock stares back at him. Sighing, Kindaichi spins around once to take in the familiar office. It's a little dizzying in his endorphin-addled brain, but he always feels a little dizzy in here.

A shelf stacked high with books to where even Kindaichi struggles to reach, two low cushioned chairs around a small coffee table and then, of course, there's Iwaizumi's desk towards the back, in front of a single slim window running from ceiling to floor, semi-circular around his desk chair. His computer screens are on one side, leaving the rest free for paperwork (and Kindaichi, when Iwaizumi has to work late and gets pent up).

Three chairs surround the outside for small meetings, almost as high-end as Iwaizumi's own.

It's a cushy office. Sometimes Iwaizumi says he despises it, but Kindaichi knows he likes it in here.

"Hey, I got you a water." The sudden appearance of Iwaizumi makes him jump out of his skin, whipping his body around at the voice. "Woah, chill."

Chill. "You gave me a heart attack!"

Iwaizumi looks at him and chuckles uncontrollably. "Such a drama llama!" Iwaizumi scoffs, and they both stop dead.

"Hajim-ulf!"

Iwaizumi shoves a glass of water to Kindaichi's mouth roughly, face falling serious. "I never said that."

Taking the glass, Kindaichi giggles softly before turning his face serious also, flicking his eyes to avoid the glare Iwaizumi sends him for it. "Yessir." He says, and downs the water pretty quickly, not missing Iwaizumi's gaze on his Adam's apple.

The chair creaks when Iwaizumi sits down in it, hands quickly undoing his tie. "Come here." Iwaizumi's tone along with the motion of his fingers has Kindaichi complying instantly. Iwaizumi undoes Kindaichi's shirt buttons one by one and slides it off his shoulders with ghosting fingers, kicking it under the desk out of view. Kindaichi turned around when motioned to and placed his empty glass on the desk. "Precaution." Iwaizumi tugs his hands behind his back, and Kindaichi realises.

"Oh…"

"Yup." Iwaizumi says with a grin, tying Kindaichi's hands together with his tie, tightening it enough that Kindaichi wouldn't be able to break free. "I hate that tie anyway. Oikawa bought it for me."

A blush crept up Kindaichi's back and Iwaizumi kissed the flushed skin.

"You look beautiful today." Iwaizumi says softly, running his hands down over Kindaichi's hips and over his exposed ass. He teases a thumb near his entrance, but slides his hands down his thighs soon after.

Iwaizumi could probably watch Kindaichi all day - preferably naked - just… doing normal things. Like cooking and writing and handiwork. Muscles moving under tanned skin stretched taut. Yeah… That's a fantasy he'd gladly stay in forever.

This was fine for today.

All Kindaichi could hear was Iwaizumi's belt clinking as he unbuckled it, then the zip as he undid his trousers. "Turn around." He ordered, physically turning him around. "Keep your mouth on me, steady. Let me use it, and if you're good I'll give you a taste of my come."

"G-Got it." Kindaichi stuttered, flushing red.

"Good." Iwaizumi breathed, slipping his hand in his boxers and pulling his cock free. He already looks ready to blow, but still pushes Kindaichi to kneel beneath his desk with a rough hand in his hair. "All the way, now."

The back of Kindaichi's throat flares automatically at the familiar sting of his scalp, Iwaizumi’s hand pulling him to line up with Kindaichi’s mouth. When it’s where he wants it, he pulls him down to set a brutal pace.

Well, as soon as Ushijima gets there, he can't really do anything but subtle. This is his only chance to fuck his throat like he means it. And mean it he does, biting his lip hard to stop from moaning too loud. Grunts make it through every time the head hits the back of Kindaichi's throat, but they're muffled easily.

"Kindaichi…” Iwaizumi breathes, thrusting his hips in rhythm in his chair. The meeting at this point is of secondary importance. He hasn’t had chance to look through his notes yet. At least he’s very good at winging it. Hyper-aware of the wet sounds of Kindaichi’s mouth stretched around him, Iwaizumi wishes Ushijima would take his time every once in a while.

It’s only when he sees Ushijima step past the inside window of his office that he knows he’s out of time.

It doesn’t stop him pressing Kindaichi down and coming hard down his throat with no warning. Ushijima seems perplexed by the absence of Kindaichi at his desk, but soon turns to see Iwaizumi.

Kindaichi wants to swallow, wants to cough out the feeling of come sliding down his throat.His eyes sting with watery tears, and his hands struggle against Iwaizumi’s tie. Yet Iwaizumi’s hand doesn’t move, fingers curled tight in his hair. Then the sound of the office door opening hits his ears and dread settles in, piercing into his abdomen. It’s soon overtaken by thrill, though, as Iwaizumi’s hand softens to stroke his hair. He can almost hear Iwaizumi whispering “good boy” into his ear with the softness of the gesture, and even strokes his fingers over Kindaichi’s cheek.

“Good Afternoon, Ushijima.” Iwaizumi greets, like his softened cock isn’t currently surrounded by the wetness of a mouth, now comfortably fitted around half of his cock, wet lips fastened in a ring and tongue flat.

Kindaichi's so perfect, Iwaizumi can't focus on anything else even as he shakes Ushijima's hand with the one previously gripping his hair. He's entirely sure it's sweaty and greasy but Ushijima doesn't seem to pay it any mind as he sits opposite him.

Slowly regaining some rational thought, he gathers some paper together and subtly nudges the mouse of his computer to wake it up. Even though these meetings are regular, talking over stat reports and checking company figures they couldn't otherwise discuss efficiently over email, today Iwaizumi is more enthusiastic. With his post-orgasm energy, he settles easily into the meeting and is actually quite… comfortable.

Even as Kindaichi gets restless, mouth watering and lips uneasy, Iwaizumi only has to slide his hand under the desk once to adjust him, and pat his head in thanks before continuing.

For Kindaichi, it feels like hours, face streamed with drying tears and saliva. He's only about halfway down Iwaizumi's cock, and as it's slowly hardening again, Kindaichi can’t help but suckle. While he’d never stimulate Iwaizumi while he was oversensitive, like this he’s glad to help out. It goes against his earlier orders, but from the sounds of things, the meeting’s over.

If he gets punished for it, well, he gets punished.

It comes quicker than expected, when Iwaizumi shoves his desk chair forward without warning. Startled, Kindaichi pulls back in time not to have the thing shoved back down his throat, but a hand shoves him down afterwards anyway. He can feel Iwaizumi’s disappointment in the roughness of his tug back off.

“Would you like me to see you out?” Iwaizumi asks, pulling his chair from beneath the desk, hands shaking on the armrests as he pushes himself up.

“I can do that. Thank you, Iwaizumi.” Ushijima says and Iwaizumi sits back down, heart pounding in relief. Instead, he bows his head and hands over some of the notes. “I take it you sent Kindaichi-kun home? He looked unwell.”

Desperately keeping a straight face, Iwaizumi nodded. “He, uh, I think he had a sore throat… among other things…”

“He told me he didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi breathed with humour, “Well, he always tries to play things off as nothing. He doesn’t like to cause trouble.” Smiling fondly, he watches Ushijima nod, thankfully taking that at face value.

“It’s good that you keep an eye on him.”

Kindaichi blushes hard under the desk, unimaginably warm. It’s just the right side of claustrophobic that he's fairly comfortable, even if his arms ache and his knees hurt.

"After all, where would I be without him?" Iwaizumi says with a grin. "Not coming or going, that's for sure."

Ushijima laughs softly. It's a rare thing for him to do, and it leaves a warm spark in the office. Kindaichi's always found him so hard to read, he's never known if the guy even likes him half the time, so the revelation hits him hard. "I hope he feels better tomorrow."

"Me too! I have a busy schedule tomorrow… I think." Iwaizumi tosses in humorously. Ushijima's lips twitch, but other than that his expression doesn't change.

"I'll be taking my leave now." Ushijima says with a nod of his head, slipping the notes into his own pad and walking out.

Both Iwaizumi and Kindaichi breathe simultaneous sighs of relief, hearts beating too fast. Even a few seconds after he's gone, they stay unmoving.

"Do I have anything after this?" Iwaizumi asks, slumping back in his chair.

Biting his lip, Kindaichi closes his eyes and thinks. "You're taking me on a date tonight."

"What?" Iwaizumi asks, head dipping to catch Kindaichi's shadowed face under the desk. "Shit- Sorry I-!"

Straight face turning into a smirk, then into a grin before Kindaichi starts laughing, opening his eyes to look at Iwaizumi's horrified ones. "You didn't forget. I just decided."

His tone sounds self-satisfied, and clearly Iwaizumi can't let that slide, taking Kindaichi's shoulders and pulling him out from under the desk. "You don't decide shit." He says, though it's less composed. His giddiness is hard to hide from Kindaichi, sounding way too excited.

Oh, he'll definitely get his date.

Iwaizumi pushes his hips against the desk that rattles some at the force. "I take it I really don't have anything after this, then?"

"No sir."

"Good. Then no-one should be coming by." Iwaizumi confirms with a grin as he stands up to take off his belt, then peeling down the rest of his trousers and boxers to his ankles.

"It doesn't mean-" It doesn't erase the possibility that someone will come around.

Iwaizumi doesn't care, as is apparent when he cuts him off with a kiss, forcing him to bend down to accommodate when Iwaizumi sits back down again. The fingers of one hand soothe the back of his neck. The other touches cold metal to his skin there, slides something suspiciously flat and cool around it. When Iwaizumi lets him pull back, sliding his hand from around Kindaichi's neck down his chest, the metal hangs there.

"Iwaizumi-san…"

"Well, you did disobey me, didn't you?"

Kindaichi bites his lip, dropping his gaze and nodding guiltily.

"What's that?" Iwaizumi asks again, head tilted and lips in a frown.

"Yes sir. I disobeyed you."

The solemness of his response, his face of mess with dried tear tracks, his mussed and unruly hair, the contortion of his shoulders, the belt hung loose around him against flushed skin. It's truly the look of his greatest fantasy. Kindaichi Yuutarou is his fantasy. All his. "Then you don't mind if I put you in your place, do you?"

"No sir." Kindaichi says, licking his dry lips and vibrating in arousal. He knows he looks a mess, he knows he's flushed red all over. Even with his gaze low he knows Iwaizumi is studying him. He hopes he finds him adequate. At least, he feels degraded like this, he desires Iwaizumi's words to tell him that. Reassurance that he's enjoying it too.

Because Kindaichi is definitely enjoying it. He always enjoys doing his best for Iwaizumi.

No words come, not yet, just hands on his hips pulling him forward roughly after ample surveyance. Kindaichi stumbles forward into Iwaizumi, arms trying and failing to flail out to keep him steady. He makes a noise of discomfort as his face hits Iwaizumi's shoulder and knee bashes the chair.

"I know you're sorry, baby, but what boss would I be if I let you off?" Iwaizumi rumbles into his ear before pushing him back again. He knows Kindaichi doesn't mind being moved like a ragdoll, doesn't resist when Iwaizumi grabs hold of each end of the belt around his neck and threads the leather through the buckle to pull it tight. "Heh. Look at that, it suits you."

Kindaichi's entire body burns. The leather presses mildly uncomfortably against his Adam's apple, and every movement of the belt held in Iwaizumi's hand is felt against the sensitive skin on his neck. Hell, he can feel his heartbeat against the leather, harder the tighter Iwaizumi pulls.

"You wanna hold something, Yuutarou?" Iwaizumi asks, chest heaving with his breaths suddenly heavy. Never had he thought he'd see something this erotic. Right in front of him to touch, to feel, to do with as he pleased.

Kindaichi's gaze flicks to something on his desk. It's a stress ball that he bought for him not long after he started. Seeing he fidgeted a lot, Kindaichi had bought it and sheepishly handed it to him without a word one morning.

Honestly it was one of the moments Iwaizumi recognised as falling a little bit more in love with him for. 

Since they became close, he’s had Kindaichi to relieve his stress. Just by giving him a smile sometimes, or sticking his tongue out in bouts of playfulness through the window, even occasionally unintentionally distracting him in a meeting. He tends to gesticulate a lot when he’s on the phone, for example, and sometimes Iwaizumi can even hear his cheerful tone by the way his mouth moves.

And of course, more recently, he’s had this. Kindaichi like putty in his hands. A life-sized stress ball.

Iwaizumi’s happy to take the much less human, much less generous stress ball for use here, blushing at the memory as he places it gently in Kindaichi's hand. "Now take your punishment." The next movement is anything but gentle, curling the belt twice more around his hand and yanking Kindaichi forward. He’s careful not to get ahead of himself, assuring he doesn’t cut off Kindaichi’s air, searching Kindaichi’s wild eyes for any signs of unease.

When he sees none, he curves his free hand over Kindaichi’s side, to the curve of his back and down to his ass. Kindaichi’s lips tremble just in front of his face, desperate to touch his.

“If I hold you still, I want you to sit in my lap.” Iwaizumi says, keeping any emotion from his voice. Kindaichi nods an OK and Iwaizumi sets his strong hands on Kindaichi’s hips.

It’s a little awkward with no arms, but Kindaichi manages to keep his balance with Iwaizumi’s help to step through the spaces in the arm rests, then lower himself onto Iwaizumi’s lap facing him. He keeps the stress ball firm in his hand the entire time, fingers digging in as if it would help keep his balance.

“Good boy.” Iwaizumi says calmly, rubbing his hands over Kindaichi’s soft flanks. He edges him a little closer, their cocks close to touching. Conscious of the amount of time Kindaichi’s spent erect, he silently vows to make it as quick as possible. It’s not like they do this sort of thing all the time. Leaning over, he slides open the middle drawer of his desk - the most inconspicuous one - and rummages for the nondescript bottle of lube he keeps there.

He’s barely ever used this one, as opposed to the one he keeps in his bedside table. While they haven't moved in together yet, haven't even announced being together yet, Kindaichi sleeps over his more often than not nowadays. Iwaizumi doesn't like him having to catch a train every day, especially working late. It's much easier to drive him home to his and seduce him with good food and charming smiles.

He lathers the lube over his fingers and slides them over the crease of Kindaichi's ass, the man jolting at the cold. Iwaizumi doesn't take his eyes off of Kindaichi's, using his free hand to tilt Kindaichi's face to look at him whenever he looks away. Eventually, he doesn't try to dip away again, uneasily holding his gaze. "You're cute when you're embarrassed. I ever tell you that?"

Kindaichi blinks slowly, giving himself time away from the intensity of Iwaizumi's eyes before he has to look back into them. "N-No sir." He says, biting his lip when Iwaizumi's first finger breaches him.

"Ah, but you're always cute, Yuutarou."

The thighs on his tense as he thrusts in his finger, already teasing his walls, twisting and curling with purpose. Kindaichi shuts his eyes again, moaning quietly between them. Adding his second finger, slower, careful, Iwaizumi watches his face contort. In the light, the tear stains on his face reflect beautifully and Iwaizumi can't keep his eyes off of him.

Breaths ghost over Kindaichi's neck. The band around it moves a little, and the sound of strained leather lets him know Iwaizumi's holding it again. He tugs it slightly, tightening the loop around Kindaichi's neck and reducing his air flow. Small chaste kisses are littered over any stretch of skin they can, sending little tingles over his body while it undulates with the rhythm of fingers.

As hard and desperate as he is, Kindaichi feels great like this. He'd happily let himself be carried on this feeling forever. Being held on the brink by his lover, so deep in love and lust he can't imagine being apart right now.

Fingers slow and the body beneath Kindaichi shifts, readying itself.

"I love you, Yuutarou." Iwaizumi says in a breath, sliding his hands down over Kindaichi's upper thighs and heaving him up. In response, Kindaichi pushes up on shaking legs, alleviates the need for Iwaizumi's strength, only guidance as he positions him. One of his hands leaves, and Kindaichi opens his eyes to see Iwaizumi lining his cock up. "Sit."

Kindaichi obeys, steadily lowering himself to be seated entirely on his cock. It fills him completely and wholly, and they both moan in unison. So close, their hearts beat opposite each other in their chests, and even then, Iwaizumi pulls him closer with an arm around his lower back.

"Good boy." He says again, and Kindaichi blushes as his body responds, unconsciously shifting forward. His cock is pinned against Iwaizumi's shirt and he feels every fibre of it, fire where the buttons press flush against his sensitive skin.

He so badly needs to come, but the pressure around his neck increases as his body moves, so he wills himself to still. "Haj...ime." Kindaichi moans, and Iwaizumi kisses his chapped lips. Once. Twice.

Iwaizumi carefully thrusts upwards, leaving Kindaichi to bounce in his thighs. He's heavy, but Iwaizumi can take it. Neither of them are going to last long anyway. He continues a rhythm, capturing Kindaichi's mouth in a kiss when he can, swallowing one or two needy moans in the process. "You can ride me if you want. You're doing so well." He says softly, hand on Kindaichi's back rubbing a thumb up and down in encouragement until Kindaichi gathers the courage to move too.

It's easier like this. Iwaizumi can feel the tension inside Kindaichi from his thighs likely burning from the movement. It's great, and has him bucking harder to feel more, slap of skin echoing in the room. Kindaichi towers over him when he's heaving himself up, so Iwaizumi tightens his hold on the belt a little more, forcing him to stay lower.

Kindaichi's breathing is still shallow, still leaves him dizzy, and even when it cuts off entirely, he keeps going, earning him a hand running through his messy hair, pulling him down so his head rests on the top of Iwaizumi's chair. "You can… stop now." Iwaizumi heaves, kissing his wet cheek and letting him breathe again.

The air is thick hitting the back of Kindaichi's throat. He drinks it like it's water and sinks down onto Iwaizumi's shoulder, body flagging against him as his heart rapidly pumps oxygen back into his muscles. It's like he can feel it, his blood pressure slowly evening. It's like coming down from a high, and Kindaichi can't help but sob.

He wants to cling onto Iwaizumi, but his arms won't move. Nothing to do but moan, Kindaichi lets Iwaizumi take over again, hand stroking his hair.

"Shh, baby. You're OK." Iwaizumi soothes, teeth gritted as he thrusts up desperately. The sheer trust Kindaichi has in him is dizzying in itself, let alone the desperation to continue pleasing him. "You did so good."

More than made up for his intentional slip-up earlier.

That's why Iwaizumi slides his hand between them and grips Kindaichi's cock hard in his hand. 

Kindaichi wails into his shoulder, body jolting heavily at the sensation. Iwaizumi's fingers curl around him and begin pumping hard, thumb swiping over the head of his neglected cock with purpose each time, drawing him to shudder and moan. "Yuutarou. Come with me."

The heavy weight trembles in his lap, pitiful whines escaping at his neck.

"Need more incentive?"

The feeling now familiar, Kindaichi readies for his airflow to cut off, body kicking into hyperdrive. His pulse races against the leather, his breath catches and he can barely make a sound.

Iwaizumi's hand tightens around him, twists as Iwaizumi thrusts upwards and comes inside him with a shout, own head falling against Kindaichi's shoulder. Despite the lack of blood flow - or perhaps because of the lack of blood flow - Kindaichi comes too. It's powerful, and Kindaichi feels like he loses minutes in bliss, somewhere light and airy, where his lungs fill with nothing but Iwaizumi.

When Kindaichi stills against him with even breath, Iwaizumi slumps down, over his concern. "That was so fucking hot."

He gets no answer from Kindaichi for a few seconds, but when aftershocks rattle Kindaichi's body, he sighs. "Yeah."

Kindaichi wants to sleep, he's so drained and tired. Even uncomfortably sat on Iwaizumi's softened cock, this is where his wants to stay.

Except Iwaizumi has other plans. With soothing fingers, he slides the cock ring off. It's one swift, smooth motion to keep stimulation to a minimum. Kindaichi still lets a soft sob out at the pain it wrought. He lets go of the belt and slowly undoes that, too, noting the red lines where it's dug in.

He secretly hopes they don't fade too quickly.

Lastly, he undoes the binds of his tie around Kindaichi's wrists. As expected, it's stretched a little and crumpled beyond use, and when he brings Kindaichi's wrists in front of him where he can see, they're also red from pressure and rubbing.

"I'm gonna have to get you up." Iwaizumi says, and even with Kindaichi's protests, he gets the drowsy man to stand, then promptly spins them around and sits Kindaichi in his chair.

Kindaichi grimaces at the wet feeling in his ass, and that he's currently leaking said wetness onto Iwaizumi's expensive chair, but Iwaizumi doesn't seem to care as he pulls up his boxers and trousers and doing them up.

"I'm getting water for us both. Don't move."

"'m not gonna move." Kindaichi says tiredly, leaning forward to pick up the stress ball he'd been holding the entire time and moulding it much gentler in his hands.

When Iwaizumi leaves for the bathroom, Kindaichi sits up a little, runs fingers over his neck. His throat burns slightly, and it still feels weird to swallow, but it feels… nice. Almost like he still has the leather around him.

Kindaichi places the stress ball neatly back where it was last, and waits for Iwaizumi to come back, pushing through his door with his back, two glasses of water in hand. Placing one in front of Kindaichi, Iwaizumi slumps into one of the opposite chairs and puts his feet up on his desk, downing the water like it's his first beer of the night. "It's getting late. Do you still want that date?"

Kindaichi lazily fingers the ring of his glass, sipping the water carefully and savouring the way it cools and soothes his throat. "Could we…" Kindaichi pauses at the rumbling of his voice, taking a few more sips. "...Just go back to yours?"

Iwaizumi's face flushes at the way Kindaichi's voice sounds utterly wrecked, biting his bottom lip.

"I-Is that OK?"

OK?! "Yeah, yes! Let me get my coat." Iwaizumi says, jumping out of his chair into action.

"H-Hajime?" Kindaichi asks timidly, wringing his hands. "Could you get my clothes?"

Feeling his body flush in realisation Iwaizumi nods. "Sure thing, champ."

-

Neither of them expect anything after their exhausting day. In fact, while they made out multiple times over that evening and confessed their newfound favourite kinks, it simply ended with them curled around each other with promises of patience and trust. (Maybe a collar for Kindaichi.)

[second-hand-heaven]

Maybe 39 with superwonderbat if you want! I’m just a sucker for hurt/comfort (especially if B finally gets the comfort he deserves but that’s neither here nor there haha) Congrats on your next 100!!! 💙💙💙

thank you for the great prompt @causeimamerican​ 

i had fun torturing Bruce with this one! it turned out a little more angsty than when i started it, but i hope you enjoy this!

39 “It’s okay to cry” SuperWonderBat

They find him in the den, kneeling by the fire. Bruce’s knees ache, a fiery burn that’s going to be a bitch when he tries to stand later. The sofa is only a few feet behind him, plush and welcoming to his weary joints, but the pain in his knees, his ankles, is grounding, comforting. He deserves it, after all. He deserves pain and nothing more. “Bruce? There you are!” Clark says, as if he could ever lose track of where Bruce was. He knows the extent of Clark’s senses, knows how the alien can track heartbeats and scents better than almost any other. Bruce could never hide from Clark, not that he truly ever tried. Even now, with all his sense screaming to retreat, he stays right where he is, kneeling on the hardwood floor of the den, a dull ache settling in his joints as he sits back on his ankles. He needs the pain, needs the distraction it brings. Pain keeps the thoughts and feelings and tears at bay, and he can’t let any of them slip out, not now.

He doesn’t turn to look at them, just stares into the empty fireplace. The last remnants of the fire burning during last week’s cold snap have been swept away, barely a trace of ash left behind. How Alfred manages, he’ll never know. It’s cold today, a chill in the house that seeps through his slate-grey suit pants and white shirt. He should start the fire, just like he’s done so many times before, but doing so means moving, seeing Clark and Diana’s pitying looks, and Bruce can’t face that -or them- right now. Not when they know how he feels, what he wants from them.

He hears them cross the room, their footsteps light across the floorboards. Clark’s still in his suit, by the sounds of his cape trailing behind, flapping softly with each step. Diana, though, lacks the usual clatter of her armour. She’s in something soft, like sweatpants, muffling the sound of each step. Diana sits on the floor beside him, legs crossed. She’s close enough to touch, but neither of them move. “What troubles you?” she asks, and Bruce barely contains a scoff. What troubles him? Where should he start? Lies hang on his tongue, scathing and sharp, but no, he can’t lie to her. If Bruce could never hide himself from Clark, he also could never hide his own feelings from Diana. Could never hide the truth, no matter how much he wanted to. Especially now…Bruce grunts out, “I’m fine,” but his voice suggests otherwise, roughened by tears he refuses to shed. He’d stormed out earlier and he’s tempted to do it again. Confrontation isn’t exactly his strong suit, not when he’s the one being confronted, laid bear for all to see.

It was a cheap trick by the villain the League faced, a dark magician who dealt in secrets and thrived off of the humiliation of bringing one’s deepest truths out into the light. An utter bastard in a silver cloak, the League nearly had him defeated. Zatanna almost had the villain fully subdued, but no, it was never that simple. He wanted one more secret, one more secret then he would leave Earth alone. Secret identities were off the table, the magician decided. No, he wanted something sweeter, something romantic, and Bruce was always the type to make the sacrifice play. He couldn’t look at Clark and Diana afterward, couldn’t bear to see their disgust. He walked away, head high and chest hollow, desperate to forget that his teammates, his friends, just found out he was in love with them.

Bruce scrubs a hand across his face, trying to wipe away the shame. How dare he ever hope to love, how dare he hope that it could be returned. He needs to leave, needs to get out of here. He can’t stand their presence, their light, their compassion. They should have left him, let him suffer alone. Having them here, in his sanctuary, is unbearable. He needs to leave. He makes to stand, when Diana says what she knows always manages to break him, “Bruce, please.”A traitorous tear slips from his lashes, trailing slowly along his cheekbone. His face burns in anger, in humiliation. Bruce tries to duck his head, turn away from them, but there’s no hiding from either of them. He shakes his head, they wouldn’t understand. He can’t cry, he can’t, not here, not with them. To cry is to be vulnerable, and to be vulnerable is to trust those around you. To trust is to love, and he can’t, he will not. He can’t be vulnerable, not as Batman, not as Bruce, and certainly not here in front of Clark and Diana. Because they know him, they know what his trust means. And if they know…“It’s okay,” Clark says, a warm hand landing on Bruce’s shoulder. He’s tempted to shrug it off, and maybe it would be better if he did, but there’s a guilty piece of him that wants their comfort, that wants Clark’s touch and Diana’s words. He can’t have it, he can’t have their love. He doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve their light, no matter how much he wants it. “You can trust us,” Diana says, cradling Bruce’s hand in her own like it’s something precious, something to treasure. You can love us. Bruce wants to rip his hand away, but her grasp is unyielding. “We won’t let you fall.”Falling, falling like Tim? Tim had Dick to catch him. No, falling like those he could never save. Too much falling, falling from buildings, from planes, falling in Gotham Harbor, falling in love. Diana says she won’t let him fall, but he’s already fallen. Hard.

There’s no hiding it now, no hiding the way his heart is smeared against the sidewalk alongside his self-preservation and better judgement.

“Bruce, we, I,” she sighs, trying to find the right words. Bruce hasn’t seen her this lost before, and something aches in his chest. He caused this, he hurt them, this is his fault. “We care about you,” she ends up saying, interlacing her fingers with Bruce’s.

“We do,” Clark echoes, “so you don’t need to hide from us. We trust you, Bruce, and we need you to trust us.” “I trust you.” Bruce’s words are choked but he doesn’t care.  "I trust you,“ he says again, pouring all that he can into it. He respects them, he trusts them, he loves them. How can that be anything but obvious? Clark squeezes Bruce’s shoulder, like he’s done so many times before, but Bruce melts into the touch. "It’s okay to cry, B,” Clark says, as if giving Bruce permission to be weak. Vulnerable. Loved. Bruce shakes his head, tears falling in earnest. The hand at his shoulder traces up the cords of his neck, following the line of his jaw, his cheeks, catching Bruce’s tears on powerful fingertips. Bruce leans into the touch, the warmth of Clark’s hand drawing him closer, like a cat to a ray of sunlight. They need to talk about it later, and they will. Diana will make certain of that. But for now Bruce just cries, because he can, because he is allowed, and sobs, "I trust you,” again for good measure. They have to know what that means, what he means.Diana just smiles, squeezing Bruce’s hand in a way that feels a lot like, “I love you too.”

[dragon-ball-meta]

There comes a time in everyone’s life when they have to do something they dread. For me, that’s typically addressing Dragon Ball articles written by ScreenRant. Bear in mind, this is super stupid. For the most part, I included the complaint’s title in the response, but you may need to click through to read the extent of the stupid. Except for #4, since that was a doozy. So without wasting any more of your dash space, here we go with a Read More and a LONG list of responses to utter stupidity.

Time for yet another long-winded reply to yet another clickbait article you guys crapped out about a series you clearly didn't even watch. 19. "THE TIME HE WAS INEXPLICABLY BEATEN BY KEFLA" I see you're ignoring three major factors. a. That Kefla is a Fusion of two female warriors. b. That Super Saiyan levels do not have inherent power levels, they're merely multipliers. So this scenario is still quite possible. c. That Goku, in this instance, was still half drained and recovering from his fight with Jiren. Hence why he wasn't even going all-out. Good golly, did you like, just not watch the ep and pick this one out of the YouTube Comment Section? Also, idk if you know, but.. he kinda does win this fight. 18. "HIS POWER LEVEL ALWAYS BEING HIGHER THAN VEGETA'S" (Yes. They actually tried to use THIS as a complaint.) Goku's power level was not 90K on Namek. He was holding BACK vs Captain Ginyu and his power level hit 180K. Secondly, Zenaki power boosts go proportionately to exactly how near death you were and how extensive the damage you healed from was. In Goku's case, his body not only suffered from having a foreign spirit in it, but was also once again crushed and mangled to the point of being inoperable. He healed from extensively far more damage than Vegeta did, hence his level being boosted to a higher degree. That's also not even factoring how much fighting Freeza pushed him, let alone the inherent boost that comes with unlocking that new form. But I do also note this website seemingly forgetting Vegeta once supposedly surpassed Goku because he got upset his waifu got smacked. Which actually IS an asspull but w/e. 17. "UNDERUTILIZING HIS SUPER SPEED" Goku uses his speed all the time. It was illustrated even back during the Saiyan Saga that even the human characters were fighting and moving at speeds so fast as to be almost imperceptible even to a trained warrior's eyes. They had to use their eyes in tandem with sensing the fighters to figure out what was happening. It's also why, in later fights, those who are stronger or more adept at sensing energies have to sort of play announcer to those who get lost. 16. "THAT TIME HE PASSED AWAY FROM HEART FAILURE" That... that was an alternate timeline and had nothing at all to do with ending the series. Goku contracted a heart disease in Future Trunks' timeline, Androids came and attacked, nearly wiped out the populace, Trunks came forward to prevent Goku's death in THIS timeline and also to hopefully get help in becoming stronger from him and his father, presumably then being able to save his own timeline as well. You are literally the sole person I have ever seen become confused by this. Again, I don't think you read or even watched this series, man. 15. "UNDERUTILZING HIS SOLAR FLARE" Solar Flare became increasingly less useful as the enemies it was being used ON either had a natural immunity to it or simply had the ability to sense ki and work around it, something not fully overcome until Krillin managed to amp it up so intensely as to dull even that sense. That said, it actually HAS been used, fairly effectively, in many fights, by Goku and others. So I'm not really sure how anything's been "forgotten". 14. "HE REGULARLY FORGETS HIS PHILOSOPHY OF ‘NEVER GIVING UP’" Goku... stood down once. One time. The actual hell are you talking about here? The SOLE time he chose to "give up" was vs Cell as he knew Cell was learning from him AND that he couldn't beat him. Their sole shot was in Gohan finally breaking through that all and ascending beyond a Super Saiayn. No other possible outcome. The only other thing you can accuse him of is holding back vs Buu, but that was both because he was stalling and using energy would reduce the time he could stay, and... well, because he was dead and gone, and felt it behooved him to teach new defenders rather than once again solve it himself and keep the Earth reliant on backup from a dead guy. But even then, Goku was guesstimating that he MIGHT have been able to win there. It's not a 100% guarantee. Also I believe the line you're quoting may be a dub-only line, which... would warrant many more paragraphs. 13. "CHILDHOOD GOKU KEPT GETTING SINGLED OUT FOR HAVING A TAIL" Goku was singled out over his tail because he was clearly a boy, yet also clearly had a monkey tail. Were he an anthro monkey, this would not phase people. That he was seemingly human, yet had this appendage, was odd and stood out. No, it was not an attempt to traumatize him as he thought everyone else was weird for not having one, and it didn't phase him one bit. Nor was the storyline about being a "Saiyan" even a concept at the time. You're way overthinking things to invent problems here. 12. "THE LACK OF PHYSICS REGARDING HIS HAIR" Wow, we're already scraping the barrel. This bodes well. His hair stays up when underwater when he has energy flowing up around him too, fyi. 11. "LEARNING MORE FROM KING KAI THAN ANYONE ELSE, DESPITE BEING THERE FOR THE SHORTEST AMOUNT OF TIME" Different. People. Have. Different. Degrees. Of. Potential. And. Skill. Goku's giftedness at being able to manipulate energy as well as the naturally higher healing factors and durability of the Saiyans.is what made him such a great candidate to learn the Kaio-ken and Spirit Bomb, and Goku's aptitiude at the former was only ever really met or matched by Krillin, who actually learned to form, aim, and throw the Spirit Bomb faster than even Goku did. So there's that. 10. "MASTERING ULTRA INSTINCT AFTER ONLY USING IT 3 TIMES" So again, you didn't watch the series, I see. Goku didn't "master" Ultra Instinct at all. He managed to fully tap into the completed form by being pushed far enough and finally taking Whis' instruction to heart, relying on instinct rather than overthinking, becoming one with his movements. BUT... it also kinda took a massive toll on his body, AND he has no idea how to even begin accessing it at will yet. So while that form may be called "Mastered" Ultra Instinct, Goku himself has not mastered it at all, by his own admission. 9. "THE TIME HE LET FRIEZA POWER BACK TO 100% RATHER THAN TAKING HIM OUT" You mean the time he declared he wanted to face Freeza at 100% of his power on an already-dying planet with no one really left to get hurt at a point when he was in a state of mind more savage than his normal self? How horrible. And no, he didn't kill him, and he explained why. NEITHER of these acts were acts of mercy, as this article claims, but of dominance. Humiliation and cruelty. Goku faced Freeza at the peak of his power, and overcame him so handily that killing him would have been almost pathetic. So he chose to let him live with the knowledge that a Saiyan, a Monkey, a being he viewed as lower than the dirt itself, had faced him at full power and deemed him not even worthy of the honor of a warrior's death. It was a sentence to live in shame. Not mercy. 8. "HIS FARMING SKILLS SERIOUSLY DECREASED AS HE AGED" Goku was literally doing manual labor to plow a field as part of Roshi's training vs actual farming done professionally with intent to sell his crops. You kinda need very straight rows to maximize your harvest. This is one of the dumbest complaints in here. 7. "GOKU HAS THE ABILITY TO DESTROY PLANETS, BUT NOT OPEN DOORS" I take it back, they actually dipped into the Legacy of Goku games for this one. It's called a Quest, my guy. Jeebus. 6. "THE TIME HE TELEPORTED HIMSELF AND AN EXPLODING CELL TO KING KAI'S PLANET" OK. Aside from Instant Transmission/Instantaneous Movement (as Goku knows it at least) requiring you to know where you're going OR have a Ki signal to lock onto (meaning no empty planets or random spots in Space), what "Conflict" did Goku start other than mild annoyance from King Kai and his pets as they were the only ones there? And even King Kai conceded he made the best call he could have given the circumstances. So... what? 5. "IGNORING THE PHYSICS OF SPACE" You are literally citing filler that actually makes logical sense in context with the rest of the series which shows that Saiyans can indeed survive for at least a time in Space, to say nothing of upper atmospheres. Lord. HOO boy, they're really picking #4 to get stupid on so Imma actually paste their entire thing before replying here. 4. "HIS HORRIBLE PARENTING TACTICS" "This is one nonsensical part of Goku that the show occasionally touches on, but not nearly enough. Goku is truly a horrible father to his son, Gohan. Not only is he never there for his wife and kid, but when he is there, it feels like he's always pitting his son against some super-powered adult who wants to punch the kid's teeth in." When? Piccolo's the one who forced the kid to fight the Saiyans. Gohan CHOSE to go to Namek, and Goku tried to keep him OUT of the fighting once he arrived. It was one of the chief reasons he was in such a hurry to get to Namek. When exactly was Goku tossing a small child in front of evil enemies? And again, stated for the hundredth time, Goku was there for his family far, FAR more often than when he was gone, and when he WAS, it was for good reason. "While Goku's reasoning is that he's just trying to train and prepare Gohan, the logic of it doesn't make much sense at all." How is training with your son not training your son? The first time Goku ever actively trained Gohan, or trained with him, was during the wait for the Androids, and it was for the very reason that he knew Gohan was actually dead in that other timeline. Best to have the boy able to defend himself as best he can. It also served as a bonding time between father and son. "At what point does Chi-Chi just leave with Gohan in order to keep their son safe from the dangerous whims of her husband? And at what point does Child Protective Services step in? While Goku isn't personally harming his child himself, he's almost always putting Gohan in mortal danger." Hold the hell up, when did Goku EVER hurt Gohan himself in any way other than training him? When? Piccolo hit that kid far, FAR more than Goku EVER did, yet y'all call him "Green Dad: or "Gohan's REAL Dad". If you're gonna make these dumbass comments, back 'em up. "During the Cell Games, even, Goku pitted his son against Cell, who is arguably stronger than Goku himself, and then gave Cell Senzu Beans to make him stronger. It's almost as if Goku hates being a father so much that he wants to end his son's life at any means necessary." ...Cell's not "arguably" stronger than Goku himself, he was. By a good bit. But so was Gohan. So much so that he knew that even though he was pushing himself, Gohan seemed to think his father was moving slowly and holding back because, as he sensed in the ROSAT (Time Chamber), Gohan had surpassed him and was nearly at the level of ascending beyond Super Saiyan. He just needed to push himself, get anrgy. So to facilitate this, thinking the adrenaline rush of a close fight would do it, and to psych Cell out, yes. He gave him a Senzu. And yes, he realized later he made a mistake... and he was actually willing to break the rules, take a Senzu himself, and go back in to try to save Gohan, to fight alongside him. I love how you all overlook that so much, to say nothing of the love and affection he OPENLY shows his boy throughout.  GOD this is so hostile and stupid. 3. "HIS SHIP IS SOMEHOW USABLE, LONG AFTER IT WAS DESTROYED BY A SPECIAL BEAM CANNON" Number one? That's a filler moment. Never happens in the manga. Yes, filler created problems. Been saying it for years. Not a problem with the original story though. Number two? Even then they say Dr. Brief used the PIECES of Goku's pod to build that new ship. Specifically saying "It was in pretty rough shape, but he managed to use what he could salvage as a base". Non-issue. 2. "INEXPLICABLY SURVIVING A SPECIAL BEAM CANNON DRILLING THROUGH HIS CHEST" ... Literally HOW do you get this stupid? Literally how? Serious question, and the ultimate proof that you again neither ever watched nor read the series before making this list. Goku dies from that. Outright. He's wished back to life one year later with the Dragon Balls. This is not something left up to interpretation, or something that's debatable. It's a fact. Yikes, bro. 1. "HE IS GENERALLY WAY TOO OVERPOWERED" Ah yes, the generic "he's too strong and therefore boring" argument. Not sure why that's on this list but uh.. Goku's been in positions where weaker characters could indeed feasibly take him out. nothing nonsensical about it at all. Multiple times during the ToP, he was nearly bested by warriors technically weaker than himself who used tactics, strategy, to get the upper hand. It's not hard to do. Goku's not Silver Age Superman here, he does have limitations and weaknesses. This list was plain embarrassing, man. Seriously, at least Watch/Read Dragon Ball before doing articles on it. Just... seriously. CBR and SR need to find people who’ve actually done research about this instead of crapping it out.

[cienie-isengardu]

Some thoughts about TLJ

I rewatched The Last Jedi, and finally - after getting enough sleep - I’m ready to rant about some things. Spoilers ahead!

In general, I can’t complain about characters itself - actors did really great job, and visual side of movie was pretty awesome. Yet, story wise, there are some things that bothers me badly. In no particular order:

♞ I dislike the whole drama with vice admiral Holdo. Was there even any reason why she couldn’t tell Poe and crew about her plan beside creating an unnecessary conflict? Like, anything beside that?

Because I think that telling people under her command that there is a plan to save them & Rebellion, would benefit everyone. Or, why the hell she didn’t told the plan when Poe tried to overthrow her?? It doesn’t make much sense to me, and it feel so forced, just for the drama’s sake and I hate such moments. Especially since Holdo already made a comment about Poe, how hothead and dangerous he was. So, why not tell anything if not to raise the morale of people on the verge of hopelessness, then at least to make sure that Poe will not take actions that may jeopardize their chance??

Also: if she already decided to sacrifice herself by staying behind on the ship (why there must stay someone at all? couldn’t they programmed the ship or leave a droid in charge??), why it takes so many people to die for her to take any action to save her comrades? She could jump into enemy ship right away, or put the ship between running Rebels and enemy fire, and save so more people. It just, well, irritated me.

( Also, I’m kinda shallow here, but why the hell a fucking officer wear a dress instead of uniform, especially during warfare?? I may forgive general Leia, because well, this is princess Leia, but man, that dress kind of bothered me.)

Okay, so Holdo maybe wanted show Poe his place, but it sill doesn’t make much sense why he was denied simple knowledge that there is a plan that may save them all. It’s no wonder why Poe acted against her. Also, I kind of disagree with blaming Poe for the action against super-powered enemy ship. If Resistance didn’t destroy that ship at the beginning of movie, its canon could probably destroy or at least weaken the shields of their ship much faster, given the chance.

Now I kind of wonder, how the movie would go, if instead of Poe, Finn and Rose conspiracy, they actually were allowed to take some action to stop / distract  the enemy. I wouldn’t mind to see more team work between them. Or actually some infiltration of First Order by Finn and Rose.

♞  I dislike idea that Kylo is now the Supreme Leader, because that makes little sense. I mean, yeah, he was apprentice of Snoke, but why First Order would care to follow him? If the movie ended with some blowing mind victory thanks to Kylo’s command, sure why not. But there is so little about Kylo and his position or relationship with members of FO, that I don’t see why they would accept Snoke’s death like nothing happened. To be fair, I would prefer if Kylo  persuaded Hux to lie that Snoke is alive and all right, while working together to keep First Order in one piece.  I know they aren’t the biggest fan of each other (though it’s shame we saw so little of their interaction after TFA), but I guess A) not so many people were allowed to see Snoke and B) Supreme Leader’s death (and by hand of some girl from nowhere) wouldn’t have a positive impact on soldiers' morale and soon the fight for power would tore First Order for good. Divided FO wouldn’t last for long, and Hux seems like enough pragmatic person to seize the opportunity to take power for himself. It’s better to rule than being ruled by some asshole that can hurt and humilated you in front of everyone at whim.

Also, it could be fun to see both Kylo and Hux lying to everyone and comming with weirder and weider stuff to say knowing full well the other can’t deny that  otherwise the truth would destroy them all. Because why Hux wouldn’t agree to actually command his troopers the way he wants instead of being humilitated publicly? And to be fair, if Kylo was smart, it would be better to operate from shadows, while letting Hux to deal with political stuff. If only they were capable of working together. I mean, I don’t even need them to like each other, but some kind of Vader-Tarkin interaction would be nice.

To be fair, I would like to know more about Hux - as much as it was funny to see space fascist get pushed into wall or knocked into ground via Force the first time, it makes me wonder how often Hux was a target for Snoke’s anger? How often he was humiliated (and hurt) publicly? Is he glad that Snoke died or if he is so used to be treated like that, it doesn’t bother him anymore? I wonder about it, because as much as movies alone don’t give us much details about his past, he didn’t have much choice to be anyone than imperial /part of FO from what I’m remember from EU, since he was born in very pro-Empire family. I guess it’s easy to dismiss, since Hux is part of the evil regime (and enjoy it??), but in a sense he isn’t that different from Finn (a stolen baby forced to grew up as soldier for FO) or Kylo (a strong in the Force child with special blood line that became target for Snoke). I mean, in the end, the character’s choices are what matters the most, and some, like Finn, had a courage and opportunity to decide about their own life, but some were stuck for too long between forces too powerful to escape. Hux is part of evil regime, sure, but still I don’t enjoy how he became a punching bag for Snoke or Kylo.

(Also, how so pro-Imperial people like members of FO actually accepted Alien as their Supreme Leader??)

♞ And about Skywalker family... I’m not really that much surprised about Luke’s sudden lack of faith in the second chance. Jacen Solo, anyone??? Yeah. What got me really, is that Leia now thinks that too. What is sad, because she felt her son during battle and I assume she knew, he didn’t pull the trigger to kill her when he had a chance. Same with killing Snoke to save Rey. There is still some sparks of Light in him, but yeah, let’s ignore this.

Frankly, I’m so angry that once again there is a child that get trapped in the fight of Light and Dark and the adults, instead of stopping Snoke, blame Ben Solo for his Fall. I know, Kylo isn’t without fault, sure but I mean, Leia admitted in TFA that Snoke influenced / tempted her son since he was a kid (via mind-link or something like that, maybe??). Unless I mixed informations, that’s why she wanted Luke to teach Ben. I’m not sure how Snoke get so close to young Solo, especially since he was with Luke and other padawans, but this is so Jedi thing to fuck up. Why don’t find a way to stop Snoke, instead of blaming a struggling kid because there is darkness in him? Blaming to the point of thinking about killing him in sleep. So, Luke just saw something in Ben that scared him, but did young Solo already killed someone, planned a mass murder? I mean, Luke saw a Light in Darth Vader, full pledged Sith Lord who for two decades committed so many awful crimes and yet gave up so easily with his young nephew, so what the hell he saw in young Solo?  What was so bad about the boy/ teenager? Does Leia even knew that her beloved brother almost killed her son because he decided the boy was too dangerous? That is... fucked up. Jedi-level fucked up. And then Luke, like so wise and great master Yoda, decided the best solution is to hide himself and wait in peace to die. Just... good Force, I’m so glad that Leia is more like Anakin (and Padme) - always ready to fight, to take action instead of sulking somewhere far away from war. To take responsibility, when the legendary Jedi hide and sulk. Bless you, Leia.

♞ Frankly, I would prefer if Force-connection between Kylo and Rey didn’t became so tangible. I like the idea of them learning stuff about each other, but I’m not sure if I like the way it was presented in movie. And some memories from their past would be nice too, I guess.

♞ As much as I like Finn and Rose working together, I was kind of meh at the whole saving what we love thing. What partially comes from my general dislike for likely to happens romantic storylines, but also a fear the characters (especially females) will be pitted against each other in the next movie :(

Then again, I wouldn’t mind to see more about Finn’s situation in Resistance. We know he seen as hero - stormtrooper of First Order who run away, saved Poe (a trusted man of general Organa), helped to destroy enemy weapon - but  at the same time, does he really think about himself as one of them? Especially before the final battle? Or how similar and different is/will be his life from the one in First Order. Or how does he feel about his former comrades / other stormtroopers? Sure, Phasma and Hux pretty much hate him (and vice versa?), but I, for one, would like to see if Finn’s betrayal has any effect on other stormtroopers - children kidnapped and shaped by abuse / dehumanization into soldiers for regime that doesn’t care much for their life. The Resistence is the spark of rebellion, right? Wouldn’t be it nice if Finn somehow inspired people like him to fight back the regime for their own freedom?

♞ Still disappointed there weren’t Anakin/Vader!Ghost scene. I wouldn’t mind if he knocked some sense into characters. Starting with Luke.

♞ OKAY, to not make the rant only about negative feelings, I’m really glad that both Resistence (the good side) and FO (the bad side) is much more diverse than original trilogy. I’m also glad there is more female characters on screen, that they have a bigger roles than in previous movies. I hope their importance will not be erased with time. And some team work between female characters would be pretty nice too.

♞ Side note:  Was Yoda so happy to burn the Books of Jedi because these were about Balance and didn’t support his idea of Light as the only right and natural Side of Force? Okay, just my personal joke I made up with my close friend XD

♞ Side note [2]: I’m the only one that think Rey theme sound a bit like Beauty and Beast main theme??? The bells(?) sounds at least?

[bid00f-archive]

my boy tamama for the character thing. and or keroro

Yeah buddy! Time for a double feature, I can practically write an essay about these two, though really, I can write an essay about all five of the main Keronians. It is Not That Deep, but it certainly could be. So, thank you! They are surprisingly interesting characters to talk about in length if you read between the lines, so time to blab about the sugar guzzling tadpole and the sergeant himself~! 

Favorite Thing About Them: 

🔰Ever since I got into Keroro like, three years back, I absolutely adored how he is the parody of the classic “cute and lovely” mascot character. He is obviously designed to look the cutest out of a cast of cute critters, just look at those huge eyes, sweet smile, and adorable little tail; so when it was shown that he has a less than cutesy side to him, I started to like him! It made him less of an archetype. I do have major issues with episode 7 Part B, but that was the episode that made me actually like Tamama since it showed that despite being cute, he still has problems and consequences for what he does which causes that sweet, sweet internal conflict.Tamama is truly a good guy, he just needs to grow but in an anime/manga that is like, 99.9% gags and slapstick that is on shaky ground.

⭐What I like most about Keroro is that, he can actually be a very sweet guy even though he usually has his own interests front and center. Episodes that show him actually helping out others tend to be the sweetest to watch, even when it ends more bittersweet, such as episode 5 when he tries to help a doomed toy store and its’ owner. He may be lazy and incompetent, or at least appears to be, but that is what actually makes him more appealing to me!

Least Favorite Thing About Them: 

🔰 His love for Keroro, while sort of sweet, can make him do some uncool things. First example being the aforementioned episode 7 Part B, the episode is done less severely than in the manga where he kidnaps Angol Mois to take naughty photos of her to send to Keroro, even going as far to strip her down. The anime  adaptation took it down a notch by having Tamama put her through “bootcamp”, but still, not cool! There is also episode 266 when he tries to kiss Keroro without his consent despite Keroro very obviously begging him not to, luckily Tamama realizes that the mature thing to do is to cut it out (plus he looked ridiculous in that pink lipstick) but again, still not cool! Actually, if I remember it right, he goes back at it by the end of the episode. What gives!

⭐Let’s be real here, there are times where Keroro is the one who first antagonizes Natsumi. She is already not very popular with fans because of her role, like how Dib is in Invader Zim though I am 95% sure that folks are less sympathetic to how many of Keroro’s schemes seem to focus more on just plain humiliating Natsumi than invading Pekopon because she is a girl. It is a shame because there is more to their relationship than being constantly at each other’s throats. In the beta, Keroro was supposed to be Natsumi’s Keronian partner and they still share enough similarities reminiscent of that. But anyway, sometimes it seems like Keroro targets Natsumi rather than her being the main obstacle blocking his invasion plans, since she is just a thirteen/fourteen year old kid it feels kind of weird to me. Prime example of this being episode 99.

Favorite Line: I still do not keep track of favorite lines, but here a paraphase from the dub that really made me laugh;

Tamama: “Well, he’s smarter than a jellybean, or most of ‘em.”

Angol Mois: “He tries his best when he’s not busy not trying.“

Tamama: “A jellybean can try but I’m still gonna eat it.”

brOTP: 

🔰 Taruru for Tamama! Though I do ship them romantically together, it is an underrated and uncommon pairing but it actually has some traction on with JPN/Korean fans and for good reason! Taruru may not hero worship Tamama as much as he did, and they may have clashed during the Garuru Platoon arc, but there are still no hard feelings between the two! 

Taruru still throws a shoutout to Tamama in the manga chapters afterwards, and in the anime, lying to Taruru about the Keroro Platoon and the Pekopon invasion was Tamama’s biggest regret until he comes to peace with it and that only happens seasons after the Garuru Arc, Tamama still remembered and felt bad about it for all that time, and resolved it peacefully, and felt much better after it! That is probably the closest thing Tamama will get to positive character development so savor it. Like the Chibi-Keroro segments, sometimes I wish that the audience could be shown snippets of Taruru and Tamama’s time training in the Keron Army together, it could be a great way to world build since the Keron Army is still shrouded with ~mystery~.

⭐Keroro and Kululu is like a match made in heaven! Okay, maybe I am exaggerating that but those two are yet another underrated pairing even though they work so well together in all the wrong ways; they both like to scheme and can be self-centered jerks but with a heart of gold… which is located deep, deep down in Kululu’s case. I wish there was more focus on these two in canon, Kululu is one of the very few characters who seems to catch on that there is more to Keroro than Gundam, Gundam, blah, blah. After all, Kululu is the whole reason why Keroro has the Keron ☆ (Star) in the first place; but why would Kululu pull the strings to bring who is probably the least qualified to one of the top positions in the Keron Army? Did he do it for kicks or does he actually think Keroro can somehow pull it off? …It is most likely the former, but at least Keroro can make the job *~interesting~*, Kululu likes chaos and things that go against the status quo to keep himself from getting too bored, Keroro practically makes it his job description. Kululu probably has all the opportunity and resources to move to a higher elite platoon if he wanted, Sergeant Major remember, so to me it sometimes almost seems like he sticks around just to see what Keroro does next…and how badly he can screw it up this time.

OTP: 

🔰 KeroTama, baby’s first gays! Though honestly, I am not sure who was the first to bring it up but I second the idea that Keroro is sort of like, Tamama’s awakening. Sure he loves him, but Tamama is still young and as far as we know, nobody else has made him feel quite the same way as Keroro does and he copes with this badly. What I do like most about this pairing is that Tamama truly idolizes Keroro but he is just as ready to call him out and keep him in check too; like checks and balances, I think Keroro/any works best when he is with someone who is willing to go along with him but can also tell it to him straight. This is most apparent in the later (subbed) seasons and manga, Tamama becomes less of a yes-tadpole and more aware that Keroro is not the all mighty-hero he used to think back on Keron.

⭐On the other hand, for Keroro…he is my shipping bicycle, I dunno know exactly why but he seems to work out so well with so many characters though it varies a lot. Like, compare KeroDoro with KeroTama and the dynamics become very different; though for the record I am not a huge fan of KeroDoro due to how anime!Keroro lacks the most tact when it comes to Dororo, and how manga!Dororo basically treats Keroro like an annoying ex. Not exactly healthy but I do feel like there is potential if the two found some common ground and reconciliation, but that defeats the fun of shipping, canon is supposed to do the heavy lifting. So anyhoo, there is no OTP for Keroro; which may contradict what I had already said about Tamama, but in Keroro’s case it opens a whole different perspective.

nOTP:

🔰 Oh geeze, I think I have only seen this once and thank goodness but Tamama/Momoka. They are an underrated pair, Momoka herself is a very underrated character but together they are just plain underrated. Hm. I feel like the anime is somewhat at fault since Brutal Momoka is often seen snapping at Tamama, but to be fair, Brutal Momoka will snap at Paul, her guards, her maids, and just about anybody besides Fuyuki. 

There are certainly moments cute moments between the two where you know they care for each beyond Momoka putting up with him so she can get closer to Fuyuki, and Tamama only sticking around to freeload, but I still think this comes across to an audience that Momoka does not care much for Tamama at all. I personally see their relationship more like an older brother and younger sister, which is kind of funny given Tamama’s more childish tendencies. I do feel like that he sees her as the little sister who can 100% beat him up while Momoka sees him as an older brother who can still annoy her sometimes at best…or a beloved pet at worst, which is not so bad since Tamama tried to do the same thing. They are two birds of a feather who flock together, but it is far, far, far away from a romantic context.

⭐A nOTP for Keroro would be Fuyuki, which for the life of me I have no idea why it has traction with JPN fans but it is…there, I guess. I think I see it popping up more often than GiroNatsu, to put it in perspective. Keroro is very obviously an adult, alien or not, and there is enough emphasis on the power of friendship to show that Fuyuki is doing what Mois should probably be taking notes on. Keroro is the fun and goofy adopted uncle who takes Fuyuki out for adventures, and they have been through like, six near-life or death experiences together and pulled through so if that is not a sign of a beautiful friendship then I dunno what is.

Random Headcanon: 

🔰 Tamama likes eating fruits and vegetables, on an occasion! The food has to practically jump through hoops for him to accept it though. Fruit has to be candied or covered in chocolate, and the vegetables have to be very tender and thoroughly glazed with honey. It kind of defeats the purpose of healthy eating, but hey, Tamama may love sweets but even he has limits such as in episode 310.

⭐Keroro has ADHD and dyscalcuia, though the ADHD bit in particular might as well be canon. He is a very relatable character and call it self-projecting but I am preeetty sure that he has like, learning/neurodivergent disorders up the wazoo much like how Tamama acts like he has an almost textbook case of Borderline Personality Disorder. I doubt that Yoshizaki actually researches mental illnesses/disorders though, special mention going to his portrayal of Momoka and her mother’s disassociative disorders which are far from accurate.

Unpopular Opinion: 

🔰 Tamama’s jealous behavior is not a good thing, it is not cute. I almost never find it funny, it is more…sad. Seeing him antagonize, hit, and verbally abuse Angol Mois is close to painful to watch because you know Tamama is only doing it to make himself feel better and Mois, who genuinely sees him as a close friend, just takes it and no one intervenes. In the end, Tamama still feels like crap and one way or another, gets what’s coming to him. There is no actual conflict resolution so the joke becomes old hat.

It may be played off for laughs, but Tamama’s infamous jealousy is self-destructive and while this may be ~relatable~ to other fans, it is obvious to see how unhappy Tamama is when it comes to dealing with his negative emotions or even maintaining a sense of self, like, his greatest fear is a glamorized version of himself as seen in episode 123. That was…interesting. When Tamama acts out on negative impluses, which is always, he never comes on top so why anybody would say “that’s so me!” especially when considering Tamama rarely makes the effort to hold his own actions accountable is beyond me.

I would probably be more receptive towards it if Tamama’s jealousy tick was not so selective. Like, you would think he would be more jealous and resentful of Giroro or even Dororo’s relationship with Keroro since those three have known each other since childhood and still keep it pretty tight; or even Pururu since she can be just as tooth-achingly sweet as Angol Mois and shares close moments with Keroro yet Tamama has never felt threatened by any of them.

Jealousy may be a natural emotion but Tamama’s attitude is unhealthy and it is flanderized to the extreme in the anime. He almost got himself killed for bottling up his negative feelings but lashing out at others (*cough*Angol Mois*cough*) is not the way to go either. The manga version of himself seems to be more adjusted, or at the least by comparison though the regrets and self-loathing is kept consistent. Tamama in the manga may not even be as infatuated with Keroro anymore, in the later volumes it so rarely gets brought up again and in particular, his reaction to being asked if he “still respected Keroro ” was such as strange response that I am just like 🤔. Of course, infatuation is different from love and “respect” could be just how Tamama no longer trusts in Keroro’s leadership at all, but still, the idea of Tamama not being obsessed with gaining Keroro’s affection anymore is almost like imagining an entirely different character after watching 300+ episodes. But, the way I see it…in the manga, the fixation is just not there anymore.

⭐For Keroro’s case, hmmmm…well, not much to say about Keroro since the anime and manga does a bang up job at calling out his flaws and holding him responsible when things mess up, he gets away with nothing. There is no widely accepted headcanon or canon interpretation of him that I feel like counteracting either; in my bloomin’ onion Keroro is well rounded enough for being the resident loser/villain protagonist.

Song I associate with them:

Party Up (Up In Here) by DMX 🔰

Crayola Sunrise by RunFoxRun! ⭐

Favorite picture of them:

This is so sweet, so pure, so perfect!

[felinehypocritical]

Richie and Bill rollerskating. The whole club is there, tho, but Richie is totally embarrassing Bill. Write it, I dare you.

you’re on nerd @beep-beep-trashmouth

Rollerskating.

A common pastime in the sixties, of course, but was it really good as a job?

Richie Tozier seemed to think so. So much, in fact, that he’d gotten an occupation himself as a waiter at a rollerblade restaurant. Derry’s own Hot Blade’s Hotspot had a new server- and, in Bill Denbrough’s opinion, a cute one at that. Richie had chosen this position for two reasons; one, the name and outfits were absolutely god-awful, almost like Richie himself, and two, he could embarrass the shit out of Bill.

These reasons were very important to Rich. Fashion never interested him very much, but he loved to note the purple pinstripes on his pants, and the way the completely refused to complement his green shirt and apron. Whoever decided on THAT, Richie had decided, must really like the Joker. The skates were the same pastel green, and he liked those, too. Richie was fast as a snake on wheels, both ways intended. He was slick and he loved to skate, and more than either of those things, he loved to humiliate Bill. And that day, it seemed, he felt like being extremely difficult.

Richie begged and bargained and succeeded in making his friends promise to come to his (we use HIS tentatively, friends and neighbors, because Richie was a shitty server and also couldn’t keep air in a closed balloon) drive-in every Saturday night. Tonight was a Saturday. Tonight also happened to be Bill’s birthday. The losers had parked in the driveway to Hot Blade’s at around six, and still no sign of de Trashmouth.

“Are you sure he’s here tonight, Big Bill?” Eddie asked anxiously, looking out the window for any sign of their friend’s head of black curls and coming up empty.

“Ch-chillax, Eds,” Bill replied, turning the car off to conserve his radio battery. “I’m sure h-he’s just in the bathroom.” Bill’s sutter had been getting better since eighth grade, when he’s begun to take French at the advice of a guidance counselor.

“Yeah, ch-ch-ch-chillax, Eddie Spaghetti!” A familiar voice called from outside the window, slightly muffled by the glass but otherwise unchanged. Richie was here, in all of his cheesy, sleazy glory. “Roll down the window, you skirts, don’t stink up the car!”

“Richie,” Bill said happily, opening the car door and letting his boyfriend slide in. Bill had gotten notably stronger in the years since he and the rest of the Club had faced off against It, his shoulders and chest as broad and as wide as his smile at this moment. He let the smaller boy sit in his lap sideways, so his be-skated feet stuck out haphazardly from the car, and kissed him on the cheek. Richie had other ideas, though, and kissed him smack on the lips, flinging his arms around Bill’s neck with great zeal and smiling in delight.

“Happy birthday, Mr. President…” Richie crooned in an eerily good Marilyn Monroe impression.

“Happy birthday to you!” Stan Uris finished drily from the pavement outside, his converse gleamingly white, his hair meticulously combed. Richie quickly got up, his blades scrabbling across the gravel of the parking lot as he stumbled over and caught Stan in a tight embrace. Stan looked somehow surprised and impressed at the same time.

“Good evening, Stanny!” Richie said coquettishly, letting go and snorting at Stan’s pained expression as he wiped his hands on his slacks. “What, I got cooties or somethin’?”

Stan shot a tired ‘I’m sorry he’s like this’ look at Bill, mentally apologizing from Richie’s playful nature. They all knew Richie was all for Bill, only for Bill… except for maybe Richie himself. Bill waved a hand in a ‘what can you do’ motion and directed his attention towards the black-haired waiter.

“Richie. Orders. Or are you too busy dry-humping Stan to do your job?”

Richie whipped out a pen from behind his ear and a notepad from his apron, and grinned deviously. “That IS my job, baby. Now, what do y’all want?”

They placed their orders in a scattered manner, Stan Mike and Ben having only just arrived, and their total came up to 12 burgers and 4 orders of fries, along with 5 milkshakes that they’d inevitably get into fights about sharing. No matter how close they were, and what other fluids they had exchanged, there were lines Stan simply didn’t cross, no matter how good shakes were. He usually gave in, saying he didn’t even like milkshakes. That was always a lie, and Ben would without fail find him another straw and give the remainder of his, although Stan was on track on now and regularly cut down on junk, or as he put it, ‘Richie Food’. Mike simply didn’t like anything too creamy and thick, and got a coke instead, from the cooler in the back of the Uris’s car. Bev had gotten over her ‘boys have cooties’ phase long before Eddie and Stan ever would, however, and would sample all of the boys’ shakes without shame.

Richie twirled his pen and put it back behind his ear in a way that pushed his curls back and made Bill’s heart clench up. “Good deal, good deal,” he said. “I’ll get that started for ya. See you, nerds!”

“See ya later, alli-skater!” Bev yelled after their speedy, trashmouthed friend.

The gang goofed off as they waited for Richie’s fantastic service, playing a game of War with the card deck Mike had brought. It was from 1895, Mike explained, which was when Bicycle became the United States Playing Card Company of Cincinnati and playing cards became popular. He’d picked them up from a pawnshop downtown one day last year, and they were of immeasurable value.

“Sure,” Ben said. “Immeasurably valuable for Bill. I can see him eyeing those cards, don’t let him take them. He’ll take the 1895 dust right off those cards on Silver, Mike.” Bill snorted and pushed him to the side, dealing out another hand and narrowing his eyes at Ben over his cards.

They laughed and talked and joked, looking at Richie zoom around the lot absently as they bantered about nothing and everything. They were sitting on the hoods and tops of their cars in the dying light, the boys in their letterman jackets and polo shirts and white tshirts, and Beverly in her mod dress and headband that Bill had told her made her look like Julie Christie.

Bev was still very much in love with Bill, more than words would ever say, but she could hold until Richie grew bored. She doubted that time would come, though- Richie seemed stuck on Bill with a fixation the likes of which she’d never seen. He looked at Bill with such an intense need and admiration that she thought it outweighed even Eddie’s sometimes.  And Bill seemed similar- he watched his ridiculous boyfriend bop around with the analytical interest of the professionals he saw about his stutter and his anxiety. He loved seeing Richie happy, even going as far as to try and spoil him into happiness. What a wonderful pair, she thought dreamily, watching Bill’s eyes trail after Richie in want as he bustled toward them. What a wonderful pair.

Her thoughts were interrupted by RIchie almost slamming into the side of Bill’s new Thunderbird at a velocity that made Bill cry out and catch him under his arms.

“B-be careful, Rich!” Bill yelped, hoisting Richie upright and handing him his platters. “Don’t kill yourself before you get Hayst-stack his f-f-food!” Ben blushed a bright red, mumbling and looking away sheepishly.

Richie got busy, passing out the burgers and fries with urgency. “He’s just joshin’, Benners. He loves you just the same, gut or no gut.” He plopped down on the car-stopper, looking up from his own strawberry shake only when Bill said his name.

“Wh-whaddya think you’re doing, Rich? Get your skinny ass up here!” Richie was all too happy to comply, seating himself on Bill’s lap yep again and looping an arm around his shoulder as he sipped his milkshake gaily. He kicked his feet back and forth before toeing his skates off and dropping them neatly down, nearly hitting Eddie on the head. Eddie’s expression made them all laugh, and they exploded into conversation again.

“Congrats on your sixteenth, Billy!” That was Mike, his tempered enthusiasm shining through.

“Yeah, happy sixteenth!” Ben added, cheersing with Stan.

“L’chaim,” Stan said sarcastically, and the rest of them collapsed into giggles. “Hah-fuckin-hah, dipshits, that means cheers in Hebrew. Happy birthday, Bill. You sure are the king on a mountain of assholes.”

He looked pointedly at Richie, who replied, “takes one to know one, Stan the Man, and you’re friends with them all.

“But yeah, happy sweet sixteen, bay-bee,” he drawled. They all laughed again, a happy, carefree sound, and Stan Uris, who would die at 38 with no children and a wife he would be leaving behind, in a tub pinked with his own blood, crosses decorating his arms, laughed with them.

Eddie Kaspbrak, who would also die under the same circumstances, except with his blood pinking his own shirt and sportcoat in the sewers he’d pledged himself to, raised his milkshake as well. “Happy birthday to the best friend a guy could have.” He looked sheepishly at the others. “Sorry, guys, it’s just-”

“No, no, we know, my dear Eds,” Richie replied flippantly. “We all know you’d let Bill take you to the edge of a cliff and he could say jump off, and you’f do it for a pat on the ass and a kiss on the lips. No, sorry- for free.” Eddie grumbled, fiddling with his aspirator and looking down at his hamburger in defeat.

“Happy birthday, Bill.” Bev.

“Thanks, guys. Y-you’re th-the best fruh-riends I could wish for.” Bill looked at them earnestly, stars and tears mingling in his eyes and glimmering in the night.

They sat in silence for a time, looking to their food and occasionally making a joke, and eventually, they finished their food. Slowly but surely.

Richie got up suddenly, slapping his forehead. “Oh, how could I forget?”

“Richie, what-” Bill attempted to say, his boyfriend cutting him off with a kiss on the temple.

“No time, gotta run, be right back, hon!” Richie called over his shoulder, racing away and running inside the building. The losers looked at the others and shrugged. Just Richie being Richie.

Richie was back, quick as a whip, with something ablaze in fire in his hands. Bill saw quickly that it was a cake.

“An ice-cream cake!” Richie proclaimed smugly, holding it out as the others crowded around and handing the cutter to Mike. “It’s all you, Mikey-man.”

Bill cleared his throat. “L-let me make this clear- w-we are NOT singing th-the birthday song.”

But it was too late. Richie was already pushed up against him, nestled into his chest, looking up from comically hooded eyes at Bill as the others serenaded him loudly. He pulled at his collar, looking slightly pink as Richie tipped up and pressed another kiss onto his lips in ecstasy.

The group of teenagers simmered down, sitting back in their spots as they glutted themselves on icecream cake and good conversation. Bill, Richie in his arms, surrounded by the laughing boys and girl, felt warmth fill his entire body.

He really was the luckiest guy in the world.