#but I didn’t know what other expression I wanted to put

[sserpente]

Checkmate

“You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”

 “Strip chess?” Sylus’ eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”

A/N: What’s this? Another red-eyed, pale-skinned and silver-haired morally grey man? Might as well.

Words: 1386 Warnings: smut

You made it a point to sigh. Loudly. With your chin propped up on your elbows, you were sitting across from Sylus on the bed in your pyjamas, a chessboard in between you creating more distance from him than you wanted.

“Are you going to hyperventilate, kitten? This is the third time you’re sighing like this.”

“This is boring, Sylus.”

“Ah, you didn’t hear me complaining after ten long rounds of Kitty Cards, now did you?” He didn’t look up as he spoke. His crimson eyes were fixed on the chequered game board but his voice was not without that teasing tone that always drove you mad and never failed to turn you into a horny mess. Especially now, with how casually he was sitting on the bed with crossed legs and clad in comfortable clothes.

“The chess pieces aren’t meowing at me, it’s not the same. You know I’m bad at chess.”

“Then you’ll get better.” He made his move—and unfortunately, it didn’t mean much to you. You barely remembered the names of all the different pieces but you hadn’t wanted to turn him down when he asked for a round. Time spent with him was rare due to your different sleep schedules, and your visits to the N109 zones were even rarer. Things would change soon. But until then, you’d soak up every minute you could get with him. Even if he wanted to play chess. Even if it was boring as fuck.

“It’s your turn, kitten.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m thinking.” Another sigh. This time, Sylus chuckled in response.

“How do I move this piece again?” You pointed at the chess piece resembling a horse, tilting your head innocently.

“Kitten…” Oh, now that was a reproachful kitten.

“I forgot! I’m sorry, I can’t help it but chess is so boring.” You paused, thinking. “You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”

“Strip chess?” Sylus' eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”

You frowned and looked down on yourself. Perhaps you should have thought this through first. Sylus was wearing a light jacket, socks, a shirt, a pair of trousers, and likely underwear. You on the other hand had only two pieces of clothing on you—a silk pyjama set with the night sky and embroidered stars on it, a gift from him the first time you returned to the N109 zone to stay with him for a few days. It had been waiting for you on the king-size bed in the guest room. You almost chuckled. You’d never slept in that bed until this day.

“Having second thoughts?” he mused.

You shook your head. “No. Let’s keep playing. It was my turn, yeah?”

He blinked once as if to say yes, his expression so amused you wanted to sigh yet again. This time, however, you really did put some effort in. If you beat him, he’d be sitting across from you naked. So if you moved your pawn over there…

“I’m done.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean ‘are you sure’? Don’t make me second-guess myself!”

“Very well…” He moved another piece himself and chuckled. “There goes your knight, sweetie.”

“Ugh! What?”

“Come now. You set up the rules yourself.”

You glared at him and aggressively took your pyjama top off to throw it at his face where it landed with a thud before falling into his lap. His amused grin was even more irritating than the complexity of this silly game. He had the reflexes to catch the piece of clothing. He could have. He simply decided not to. Ugh.

“There. Happy?”

You had hopes that sitting in front of him topless would distract him enough to make a mistake but who were you kidding? Even if he did make a mistake, you were nowhere near skilled enough to beat him at this game. Sylus knew that very well. You’d just hoped that you could snatch up enough of his pieces to see him naked again.

But the stern leader of Onychinus was nothing if not composure personified. He didn’t even bat an eyelash at your half-naked form even though you could clearly tell it did not leave him unaffected. His crimson eyes raked over your breasts and your hardening nipples due to the cool temperatures in his bedroom.

A few moments later though, he moved another piece. Sylus chuckled. “Checkmate.”

You gasped, your eyes darting back down to the chessboard. “What? How?”

“You’ve been focused on your queen too much. Now your king has nowhere left to go. See?” He pointed at the two pieces that cornered your white king. How annoying.

“That’s not fair! You tricked me!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You backed me into a corner!”

“You didn’t pay attention.”

“That’s impossible considering I’m topless and you’re still wearing all of your clothes! Was there even a way out?”

“There was.”

“But…but…ugh!”

Sylus raised an eyebrow and gave you a toothless grin. “I’m waiting.” He gestured at your pyjama bottoms.

“For what? The game is over, you’re still wearing all of your clothes and I’m still bored.”

Sylus laughed. “And you lost yet another piece. Don’t be a sore loser, sweetie.”

“I’m…not!” Cursing him under your breath you leaned back and shrugged off your pyjama bottoms without taking your eyes off him. It wasn’t nearly as sexy as you had hoped for it to be but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “This really didn’t go according to plan…”

“Your ‘plans’ never do, kitten.”

You scoffed. “Now what?”

“Now? You let me admire the view and revel in my triumph.”

“You’re impossible.”

Sylus chuckled. “You’ll find I’m very much possible. Come here.”

Now that was something he didn’t need to tell you twice. You crawled over to him fast, ignoring how the remaining chess pieces fell off the board in the process and made yourself comfortable on his lap. Sylus cradled your naked form in his arms as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. Your eyes fell shut almost automatically when he kissed your forehead.

His hands were less innocent. They ghosted over your exposed skin raising goose bumps where they went. It was sheer luck he didn’t tease you for how quickly your legs fell open when one of them travelled lower and lower, over your breasts and your hard nipples, your stomach and eventually…between your legs to where your body wanted him the most.

“Naughty little kitten, have you been this wet for me the whole time?”

You hummed in agreement, rubbing your nose against the crook of his neck.

Testing the waters, his long fingers started rubbing and caressing your outer lips until they slid between them with ease to tease your clit. Probing and exploring, working you up for him until he had you gushing and whimpering in his lap.

“Why…why were we playing chess if…if we could have just done this…the whole time…instead?”

“As much as I enjoy our…intimate moments, I do place value on spending intellectually stimulating time with you too, kitten.”

“Now you’re…making it sound like I’m…sex-crazed…around you…” Your panting increased, an all too familiar knot tightening in your lower belly.

Sylus laughed. “You’re not. Although…I wouldn’t blame you after getting that first taste.”

“You’re impossible,” you breathed out again. The words were followed by a moan. Sylus slid two fingers into your slick warmth, curling them inside you all the while his thumb kept caressing your clit. Shit, you were so close…so close…

“Sylus…”

“What is it, kitten? Tell me…”

“I’m…I will…oh shit…”

“Come for me,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You let go and fell, your orgasm rippling through you like pure electricity. Your wet walls tightened around his long fingers as he helped you ride it out and relish the taste of every last wave of pleasure consuming you. You kept clenching around rhythmically as that feeling of pure bliss slowly ebbed away again, leaving you breathless in his arms.

“Next time…” you choked out of breath, “…we’re playing UNO.”

Sylus chuckled. “As you wish, kitten.”

[wandaslovey]

Hey, just wanted to say love all ur mommy Wanda content and can’t help but reread them all the time.

I was just wondering if u would wright something along the lines of reader injuring her leg some how, like a sprained ankle, and is having trouble walking on it but is to stubborn to rest up and not walk on it. Hence mommy Wanda having to take manners into her own hands, however u wish to interpret that.

Possibly with praise sprinkled in plz

If not it’s all good :) 

Her Stubborn Girl

a/n: hi nonnie!! thanks for the request! hopefully this (sorta) lengthy drabble is the sort of thing you were looking for :))

a/n: i wrote this in 45 minutes so please forgive all spelling/grammar errors thaaanks🫶🏻🫶🏻

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

you fumble with your keys, almost dropping them twice as you all but wrestle with them to stick it through the lock. you were tired physically and mentally. you had three in-person college courses every wednesday, and now being 4 weeks into the semester, you were seriously regretting your decision to be an “over-achiever.” your ankle hurt like a bitch. it was still healing from a sprain, but you hated walking around with those stupid crutches. you’d be damned if you drew more attention to yourself any more than your wrapped ankle already gave away. you finally enter your shared home with your girlfriend, wanda. you saw that her car was parked in the driveway, so she must have decided to work from home today. you huff, tossing your keys on the little table beside the door, carefully chucking your shoes off. you hear wanda’s feet padding against the hard wood floors to the kitchen. you mentally curse yourself as you know she’s going to immediately notice that you walked to your classes today with no crutches. you had hoped you’d have time to go and grab them from where you left them last but, no such luck.

“hi sweetheart, welcome h—“ wanda pauses as she rounds the corner, taking in your appearance and the lack of what should be the accompanying crutches. you offer her a weak smile and turn to get a water from the fridge, not in the mood for her to berate you for your carelessness.

“Y/N! did you seriously go to your classes today without your crutches??” she walks up to you from behind, her arm swiftly wrapping around your back to pull you carefully to the table. you sigh, running your fingers through your hair. you knew how sensitive she was when it came to your health and well-being. “yes. my ankle is almost healed,” you say to placate her, though you know putting so much weight on it today surely didn’t do you any favors. you could feel a throbbing sensation shooting up your leg, even though you were now sitting down. wanda takes the seat next to you, gently lifting your hurt ankle and settling it in her lap. “almost healed my ass…oh honey, look at it! it’s all swollen!” her fingers gently caress the area over her careful wrapping job. “you— stay right here.” she says, her tone chiding. she gently sets your leg to rest on the chair as she gets up to retrieve an ice pack.

she comes and sits back down, resettling your foot in her lap and gently placing the ice pack around your now extra swollen ankle. you suddenly feel a little bit guilty, knowing that you hurting yourself hurts her just as much—maybe even more sometimes. you didn’t mean to upset her. your shoulders slump forward, an apologetic look on your face as she looks at you with nothing but sternness. “i don’t take kindly to you not taking care of yourself Y/N. you know that.” your posture falls, the guilt weighing even heavier on yourself as her words affirm your suspicion. “i’m sorry, mommy.” you use her honorific, hoping it would help in smoothing her over.

your apology seems to fly in one ear and out the other as the firm expression remains plastered on her face. “you’re not going to put any more weight on this ankle of yours for the rest of the day. do you hear me?” you look down. avoiding her gaze as you nod your agreement. she grasps onto your chin with her thumb and first finger, lifting your head back up to look at her. “words. i need to hear you say it.” her grip on your chin is firm and you find that your previous defiant attitude when you first came home had all but vanished into thin air. “i won’t put any more weight on my ankle for the rest of the day,” you say quietly, your lip slightly pouty and your eyes wide, full of sincere apology. “good girl,” she nods, releasing her hold on your chin. she takes pity on you, knowing that she had scolded you enough already.

you sit in comfortable silence for several moments, her still holding the ice pack to your ankle. “how about we watch a movie together before i finish up my work for the day? then i can make us some dinner and you can tell me all you learned in your classes today.” you smile, quickly agreeing with her suggestion.

you move to stand, but she grips onto your foot to keep it there, giving you a warning look. “sorry..” you quickly readjust into your seat, remembering your recent promise to not walk on your bad ankle the rest of the day. she stands up, settling your leg back over the chair. “where did you leave your crutches?” she asks, looking around the room for them. you whine, not wanting to see or use those stupid things ever again. “don’t make me use those. i hate those things. they just make it more difficult to move around and they hurt my armpits..” you complain, your voice sounding petulant like a stubborn child.

she rolls her eyes at your tone, a small affectionate smile tugging at her lips before she suddenly reaches down and pulls you up into her arms. you make a small noise of surprise, but she makes no moves to put you down, instead carrying you to the couch that’s in front of the tv. she settles you onto the cushions, lifting both your legs so your feet were resting in her lap.

she lets you choose the movie and you put one on that you’ve both seen many times together. throughout the movie she’ll glance over at you, smiling kindly whenever your eyes meet hers. somewhere towards the end of the movie, her hands begin massaging your uninjured foot but you find the sensations felt more tickle-y than anything else. you squirm slightly in your seat, your foot twitching in her gently grasp. her lips curve into a knowing smile as she takes notice of your fidgeting.

“does that tickle, detka?” as she asks, she lightly scratches her fingernails over the arch of your foot. you press your lips together, unwilling to give her the reaction she was looking for.

“no,” you say stubbornly, barely glancing in her direction as you opt to keep staring at the screen ahead.

“oh, so you don’t mind if i do this then?” her fingers then move up your foot, tickling the sensitive little spaces in between your toes. you try to jerk and pull your foot back but she was quicker than you—using her other hand to firmly hold your ankle in place. a low whine and a stream of reluctant giggles bubble past your lips as her fingers scratch at your toes. “what’re you laughing at, huh? i thought you said this didn’t tickle…” she teases, keeping up her playful assault on your poor foot for a few more moments before stopping.

she leans closer to you, kissing you sweetly as she gives your foot a soft squeeze. she looks at you, love and adoration evident in her gaze. you melt under her affectionate look, feeling that warm fuzziness seep into your skin and brain.

“Y/N, i don’t ever want to see you without those crutches until the doctor gives you the all clear. if i do see that, you won’t like what i’ll have in store for you.” she turns more stern again for a moment, making sure she gets her point across. you decide to tease her a bit, her little tickle attack making you feel a little giddy still.

“like what? you’ll spank me?” you smirk slightly, knowing that that particular punishment isn’t normally so bad.

“oh no.. no, no. i know you enjoy your spankings far too much, my darling. i was thinking more along the lines of writing me 500 lines stating ‘i will take care of myself and obey my mommy.’”

she mimics your expression, also smirking as she knows you and how much you hate writing lines. you groan and her smirk stretches into a victorious smile.

“how about i throw in a sweetener? if you be the good little girl i know you can be, i’ll let you choose your reward once the doctor clears you.” her offer instantly makes you perk up, your eyes lighting up as several ideas instantly pop into your head.

“really??” you ask excitedly, almost bouncing in your place on the couch. she chuckles, nodding her head. “really, really.”

[fxckadoodledoomunson]

A Heart Divided -2-

Previous

|2| Finding a new sanctuary…

Summary: You try your best to focus on your studies and training for the upcoming swimming competition, but with Eddie and your sister making it difficult for you, you’re left with no choice but to turn to Steve for help.

Warnings: swearing, Eddie and your sister being arseholes.

Tagged: @somethingvicked @ali-r3n

As soon as you heard your parents were home, you immediately went back to your place so you could ask permission to stay over at Chrissy’s.

When you stepped inside, you heard your sister ask your father in a babyish voice, “Daddy…”

“No!” Your father sternly interrupted.

“But you don’t know what I was going to say,” your sister whinged, as she followed him to the kitchen, where your mother was unpacking the groceries.

“Well whatever it is, the answer’s still no,” your father retorted.

“Come on, honey,” your mother said to your father. “Just hear what she’s got to say.”

Your father sighed, before asking your sister, “Well, what is it?”

“I need to borrow fifty bucks,” your sister replied.

You rolled your eyes at the word borrow. You knew that what she meant was, “I need fifty dollars from you for my selfish gain and will not have any intention of returning it.”

Thankfully, your father wasn’t stupid to fall for whatever your sister says. After he declined to give her any money, she started to throw a tantrum, “But Daddy, it’s not fair. I’m supposed to go out with Roxy and Diana to this new club tonight. How am I supposed to go without money?”

“Simple, get a job like the rest of us, and not lounge around all day,” your father sternly told her. “Or better yet, not drop out of college in the first place.”

Your parents started to argue about your sister. After a year at college, your sister had decided to drop out as she felt it was more tiresome to study than go out and partying all night. While your father had always gave discipline, your mother on the other hand, coddled her. As your shoes squeaked against the kitchen floor, everyone stopped arguing, noticing you.

Your father quickly smiled, as he greeted you, “Hey pumpkin, where have you been hiding?”

“I was over at the Cunningham’s,” you replied.

Your mother approached you, as she asked, “Darling, why’s your face red? Have you been crying?”

“Let me guess, over a boy?” Your sister snidely asked.

“Enough from you,” your father scolded her.

You wanted nothing more than to snitch on her for being with Eddie, knowing how your parents felt about him, despite him always being polite to them when he used to come over for the tutoring. However, you didn’t have the energy to do it. So instead, when your father asked if it really was over a boy, you lied to him, “No Dad, it’s not. I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed, with finals coming up and the final two swimming competitions…”

You deeply sighed, when your father put his arm around you, comforting you, as he said, “You just do your best. Even if you get third place in the competitions, I would still be proud of you.”

You gave him a small smile, as you thanked him, before hugging him, ignoring your sister’s sour faced expression.

As your father let go of you, you began to ask him, “Actually Dad. I was wondering if I could stay over at Chrissy’s tonight? She’s asked me to help her with her homework.”

You figured that your father would say no, but instead he replied, “Sure pumpkin.”

“Well, are you still having dinner with us?” Your mother asked. “I’m making vegetable lasagna.”

You politely shook your head, before telling her, “Chrissy said that I can have dinner with her and her family.”

You then excused yourself from the conversation, so you can gather your overnight stuff and your sleeping bag. You were about to go upstairs when you stopped and told your father, “Oh by the way, I had to leave work early today, so I need to work an extra couple of hours to make up for it.”

“Of course, pumpkin. Do what you need to do, just don’t overdo it, okay?”

You nodded, before rushing up the stairs, overhearing your sister complaining about you, “That’s not fair, why does she always get what she wants, but I can’t?”

You got the guy I wanted, you thought. Isn’t that enough for you?

Meanwhile at Gareth’s place, Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin were rehearsing for the next night. While everyone was in the zone, Eddie found himself distracted. He thought about Chrissy’s sudden change in her demeanour when he saw her.

After noticing that Eddie was messing up the chords, Jeff raised his hand, prompting everyone else to stop.

“Eddie,” Jeff called out, making Eddie stop and turn to him. “What’s going on with you man?”

Eddie huffed, as he took off his guitar strap, placing his guitar in its case.

“It’s Chrissy,” Eddie spoke, as he scratched his head.

“What about her?” Grant asked.

Before Eddie could answer, Gareth exclaimed as he pointed at him with his drumstick, “I knew it! You’re secretly dating her, aren’t you?”

“What?! No! Of course I’m not!” Eddie denied.

Suddenly, the other two boys chuckled when Jeff mentioned, “Well, you’ve been really friendly with each other since the end of the semester.”

No longer tolerating their teasing, Eddie stomped towards them, as he angrily said whilst showing his index finger, “First of all, we’re not dating! She’s a client and a friend. And secondly…” He showed his index and middle finger, as he blurted, “I’m already seeing a woman.”

The rest of the boys’ faces fell, hearing Eddie’s confession, which led them to ask so many questions…

“Wait what?”

“You’re seeing someone? Since when?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Is she hot?”

“Who is it?”

“How far did you get with her?”

Having enough of them bombarding him with questions, Eddie bellowed, “SHUT UP!”

The boys became silent, not wanting to piss off their leader.

Eddie took a deep sigh, before answering them, “I’ve been seeing her since spring break, and yes, she’s like super hot…”

“Super hot like Phoebe Cates?” Gareth asked.

“Way hotter than her,” Eddie pointed out.

The boys excitedly exclaimed, before Jeff asked, “So, who is it?”

Eddie smirked, as he crossed his arms, before revealing it was your sister.

The three of them stood still, as their jaws dropped, before repeating your sister’s name.

Eddie nodded gleefully.

“No way, she was like the hottest girl in the school,” Jeff commented.

“Not to mention rich,” Grant said, before asking if your sister and you were neighbours with Chrissy.

Eddie nodded, before revealing that after he went to see your sister, he went to see Chrissy and asked if she wanted to watch the band rehearse. “It’s weird,” Eddie told them. “Today at school, she was friendly with me, but when I went to visit her, she gave me the cold shoulder.”

“Did you say something that might have pissed her off earlier?” Grant asked.

“Of course I didn’t, I don’t think so anyway. Although…” Eddie then mentioned that Chrissy glared at him from her window earlier after saying goodbye to your sister.

The boys glanced at him in confusion, wondering why Chrissy changed her attitude towards their leader when Gareth exclaimed as he banged his cymbal, “Aha!”

“What?” Eddie asked.

Gareth scoffed, before asking him, “Dude! Isn’t it obvious?”

Before his confused bandmates could ask, Gareth told them, “She’s jealous.”

Jeff and Grant disagreed while an astonished Eddie furrowed his eyebrows.

“There’s no way she’s jealous,” Jeff told Gareth.

“Plus, she’s with Carver,” Grant mentioned.

“So?!” Gareth retorted. “Just because she’s with that douchebag, it’s doesn’t mean that she still wants to be in a relationship with him. Maybe,” he raised his drumstick, as he continued. “Just maybe…she’s finally come to her senses and wants to leave the dark side.”

Eddie raised one of his eyebrows at the drummer, thinking about his theory. He couldn’t lie, he did once have a small crush on Chrissy when they met at the middle school talent show, but that faded over time. Even when they reconnected during the first deal, he didn’t feel that way again about her, especially as he actually liked…

“I’ve just realised something,” Grant spoke up as he interrupted Eddie’s thoughts.

“What?” Jeff asked.

Eddie shifted his attention to the bass player, as Grant asked Eddie about you.

Eddie huffed, crossing his arms, as he asked “What about her?”

“Well, weren’t you like into her?”

Jeff and Gareth faced each other in realisation, before commenting that they remembered that Eddie did once comment how amazing you were for helping him get his grades up and how happy he was to see you watch the band at the Hideout.

“So?” Eddie retorted, as he glared at them.

“So what’s changed?” Grant asked. “I mean, you gave me a hard time earlier for acknowledging her. How did you go from her to her sister?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, as he exhaled in frustration, before telling his bandmates, “You wouldn’t believe me even if I tell you.”

“Try us,” Jeff replied.

Eddie shifted his attention between the three boys before revealing why he chose your sister over you.

Staying over at Chrissy’s house was something you definitely needed. Although you were still upset about Eddie and your sister, Chrissy did her best to cheer you up after you helped her with her homework, as you both watched both Grease movies and listening to your favourite songs to lift your spirits up.

When the next morning came, you were dreading, not only potentially bumping into your sister as she would go out to see her friends for morning coffee, but also going to school and seeing Eddie.

You clutched your backpack, feeling nauseous when Chrissy placed her hand on your shoulder, as she assured you, “It’s going to be okay.”

You nodded at her, thanking her before heading to your front yard to grab your bike when you heard a vehicle horn honking. You turned around, worried that it was Eddie’s van. Instead, you sighed with relief as you saw Jason’s jeep parked.

You heard him call out Chrissy’s name, as he greeted her, before asking her if she was ready.

Instead of answering him, Chrissy turned to you and suggested, “Come to school with us.”

“Well…” you hesitated. “I don’t-“

“Please?” Chrissy begged.

Unable to resist her puppy eyes, you accepted Chrissy’s offer, which made her smile.

As you headed to the jeep, Jason raised his hand, stopping you getting in. “Woah!” He exclaimed. “What do you think you’re doing? After what you treated my girlfriend-“

“It’s okay, Jason,” Chrissy interjected. “We’ve talked things over and we’ve made up.”

Jason turned to his girlfriend, before shifting his attention to you, as he huffed, whilst signalling you to get in.

You thanked him, as you and Chrissy got in the vehicle.

Throughout the day, you avoided any form of contact with Eddie. You even reluctantly acknowledged the rest of the Hellfire club, as you didn’t want to aggravate him any further. Whilst you avoided him and the others, you were unaware of the cold expressions on the older boys’ faces as they watched you walk past without acknowledging them.

As you headed into one of the classrooms, Jeff commented to Eddie, “You were right about her. She doesn’t even have the guts to look at us.”

Meanwhile, Jason gave Chrissy a peck on the cheek, before heading to his next class, leaving Chrissy to walk alone to the next class she shared with you.

As she walked through the hallway, Eddie called out to her, as he waved at her.

Instead of waving back, she silently glared at him, before stomping to the classroom.

“Dude, she is definitely playing hard to get with you,” Gareth told Eddie, as he patted his shoulder, while Eddie glanced at the door, wondering if Chrissy is really jealous and wanted him or if she just genuinely dislike him.

Later on before your shift ended, you were packing up and getting changed in the staff room when you heard the door bell ring.

You then heard Steve say, “Welcome to Family…Oh, hey Chrissy.”

You popped your head out of the door, seeing Chrissy dressed up in a baby pink dress with matching sneakers. You smiled, as you greeted her, “I’ll be right out.”

You went back to the staff room, to collect everything as you were listening to Steve and Robin talking to Chrissy.

After sorting yourself out, you rushed out in your black jeans and your Iron Maiden shirt, as you told Chrissy, “I’m ready. How are we getting there?”

“Well, Aimee said that she and her brother Tony can drop us off,” Chrissy replied. “But I’m not sure how we’re getting back.”

Before you could respond, Steve interjected, “I can take you two home. Robin and I going later anyway, so we can all go home together.”

Chrissy beamed, as she thanked him, earning a wink from him, which made her giggle. Suddenly, you heard a car beep from outside. You and Chrissy turned to see her fellow cheerleader, waving outside the car window. “Oh, that’s Aimee,” she exclaimed, as she grabbed your hand, and pulled you. “We better get going.”

After you said goodbye to Robin and Steve, you and Chrissy started walking out when you overheard Robin and Steve bantering.

“What?” You heard Steve ask.

“You’re gonna tell me why you winked at the head cheerleader?” Robin retorted.

“It was just a wink. You know, a friendly wink.”

“That was so not a friendly wink.”

You stifled your laughter, as you caught up with Chrissy.

A few moments later, you and Chrissy got out of Tony’s car, as you thanked him for the ride.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Aimee called out.

You and Chrissy waved as Tony drove off, before you turned around and faced the entrance. In that moments, your body froze.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Chris,” you mumbled, wanting to turn away. However, Chrissy stopped you, and held your hand, as she said, “You’ll be fine. If Eddie says or does something, we’ll just leave, okay?”

You nodded, and started walking into the building, as she placed her other hand on your back.

As always, the Hideout was filled with a crowd of five drunks. You looked over at the stage, finding Corroded Coffin performing, before swiftly turning away, trying to avoid being noticed.

You and Chrissy headed to the bar to order your drinks, as your fight-or-flight kicked in. You clutched your chest, as your breathing began to increase. Chrissy noticed this, and placed her hand on your back, as she said, “Deep breaths.”

She inhaled and then exhaled with you until you felt better.

“Thanks Chris,” you replied, as the barmaid placed your drinks on the counter. After Chrissy paid, you both grabbed your drinks and headed to one of booths, further away from the stage. As soon you two found the booth, you heard feedback from the microphone, before Eddie announced, “Are you ready to rock again, Hawkins?!”

After a few claps from a couple of drunks, Eddie announced, “The next song we’re gonna play is Fire Shroud.”

As the band started to play, you couldn’t help but bop your head to the music, realising how much you missed hearing them play.

However, you stopped enjoying yourself when you noticed your sister’s friends, Roxy and Diana, were sitting at a table close to the stage.

If they’re here, then that means… you thought when you noticed your sister coming out of the bathroom.

“I should’ve known,” you grumbled.

“What?” Chrissy asked, not hearing what you said.

You swiftly turned away, avoiding your sister and her friends. Chrissy turned to you, before shifting her attention back to the stage, realising that your sister and one of her friends were heading towards stage to dance together. Chrissy gave you a sympathetic gaze and squeezed your hand , as she asked, “Do you want to go?”

Before you could respond, the last voice you wanted to hear shouted over the music, “Well well well.”

You turned to find your sister towering over you two , as she leaned against the table, continuing to snidely ask, “What do we have here? Shouldn’t you two be at home playing My Little Pony or something like good little girls?”

You took a sip of your drink, trying to ignore her, whilst Chrissy glared at her.

However, your sister kept trying to push your buttons, as she asked you, “Why are you even here? No one wants you here.”

Before you could answer back, you realised that the band stopped playing, as you watched Eddie and the rest of the band heading towards your booth. “Hey, what’s going on, princess?” Eddie asked your sister, as he wrapped his arm around her.

“Well, I was just saying to my baby sister that no one wants her here,” your sister smugly replied.

“It’s a public place,” Chrissy retorted. “You can’t ban someone because you don’t like them.”

“True,” Eddie replied. “But like she said…”

He then glared at you, before finishing his sentence, “No one wants you here.”

You quickly stood up, as you angrily retorted, “That’s bullshit! It’s you two that don’t want me here-“

“Actually,” Gareth coldly spoke up, which caused you to turn to look at him. “Neither of us want you here.”

You gazed at him with confusion, as Jeff told you, “Eddie told us, so don’t try to deny it.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked Jeff, before asking Eddie, “What have you told them?”

“Figure it out,” Eddie coldly told you.

You shifted your gaze at everyone, before turning to Grant, who avoided eye contact with you when you asked, “So, you don’t want me here either Grant?”

Grant continued to avoid you, as you turned your attention to Eddie and your sister, with tears brimming in your eyes. Without saying another word, you grabbed your belongings and stormed out, ignoring Chrissy calling out to you.

Chrissy turned to Eddie, and angrily told him, “I don’t know what’s going on with you Eddie, but you’re being a real asshole, and as for you…”

She then turned to your sister, and scolded her, “How could you be like this to your own sister? What did she ever do to you?”

Your sister blankly looked at Chrissy, before retorting, “Exist, that’s what.”

The next thing that no one anticipated was Chrissy slapping your sister across the face. Before your sister could retaliate, Chrissy grabbed both drinks and threw it at both Eddie and your sister, which made her gasp, before whinging that her outfit was ruined.

“You two deserve each other,” Chrissy spat, before running off to find you.

While your sister ran to the bathroom with her friends following her, Eddie grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and dried his face off, as Gareth blurted out, “I guess Chrissy’s not into you after all.”

Eddie turned to silently glare at the drummer before heading for the door, giving you and Chrissy a piece of his mind.

Meanwhile, you and Chrissy were sitting on the ground, as you sobbed while Chrissy comforted you.

“I don’t understand it, Chrissy,” you sniffled, unaware that Eddie was eavesdropping. “I mean, I’m sure that I would get over their relationship one day.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, thinking that you were pulling the poor me act when he heard you ask Chrissy. “But what did I do to make Eddie hate me so much?”

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, confused by your question. At first, he thought it was just an act, but then he wondered if you were being genuine. But then, he shook his head, as he thought, No, I’ve seen enough to know how she actually thinks about me and everyone else.

Before he could step out, he noticed Steve’s car parking near the building.

Not long after, Robin and Steve came out and rushed over to you and Chrissy, checking if you were okay.

After Chrissy explained what happened, Steve immediately said, “We’ll take you guys home.”

As Robin and Chrissy put you in the car, Steve noticed Eddie lurking by the doorway of the bar, and shook his head at him, before getting in the car and drove off.

You silently sat in the backseat with Robin and Chrissy, as both girls comforted you.

“Everything will be okay,” Chrissy quietly told you, as she squeezed your hand.

Everything will be okay.

That was easier said than done. Although you’ve managed to avoid the Hellfire club at school, you couldn’t avoid Eddie and your sister at home. Every time you tried to do your homework, they always had loud music playing from her bedroom, drowning whatever they were doing. You wanted to go over to Chrissy’s place as it was a sanctuary to you. However, thanks to your sister snitching on you both to your parents and Chrissy’s mother, you were no longer allowed to go over, which drove you to go to the basement just so you can finish your studies in peace.

But what aggravated you the most was that you had a swimming semifinal competition coming up soon, and you needed to practice. However, you couldn’t even practice properly as Eddie and your sister decided to make out whilst lounging by the pool.

But the final straw was when the two of them decided to jump into the pool, preventing you from practicing all together.

Having enough of them splashing around, you aggressively splashed the water towards them, as you growled, “That’s it!”

You swam to the ladder and climbed up, as you heard your sister mock, “Aww, can’t handle a little competition?”

Without thinking, you grabbed your sister’s radio and threw it across the yard, smashing it to the ground.

As you stomped back inside, you heard your sister call you a bitch, which made you flip both of them off, no longer caring being called that.

As you were getting changed in your room, you were trying to decide how to practice without interruptions. You couldn’t go to Chrissy’s as you were banned from going over. And you weren’t allowed to go to the school swimming pool after hours without a teacher supervising you. Also, the community pool wasn’t great for practice if it’s crowded. The only solution was…

“Harrington,” you muttered, as you finished getting changed, you packed your spare swimsuit and goggles, before calling Steve at work, asking him if you could stay at his place for a while so you could practice.

“Sure, you know where the spare key is,” Steve immediately told you. You thanked him, before hanging up, so you could call your father to let him know that you were going to Steve’s to practice.

You thought that he would say no. But knowing that how much the competition meant to you, as well as getting the scholarship, he decided to let you go, before telling you, “But don’t stay out too late.”

As soon as you got to Steve’s house, you found the spare key under the flowerpot and let yourself in. You had managed to get a good half an hour of practice when you heard the door slide open.

You turned to find Steve coming through the door, as he greeted you. “Not interrupting you, am I?”

“No, I managed to do thirty minutes so far,” you replied, before continuing to swim up and down the pool, checking your lap time on your stopwatch.

Suddenly, Steve walked towards your stopwatch and picked it up, as he said, “I’ll time you.”

“Okay. Thanks,” you replied as you swam to one end of the pool, while Steve sat one of the lounge chairs.

After Steve started the countdown, he shouted, “Go!”

At once, you swam as fast as you could, back and forth for about five minutes, until Steve called out to you to stop, as he pressed the button on the stopwatch to stop.

You swam towards the ladder and got out of the pool, before grabbing your towel, as you asked, “How did I do?”

As you wrapped your towel around you, you sat in front of him when he showed you the lap times. You grabbed the stopwatch and sighed with relief, as you managed to break your record.

You looked up at him, as you said, “Thanks Steve. I wouldn’t have been able to practice today if it wasn’t for you.”

Steve smiled, before asking, “So, why did you ask me if you could practice here? Is because of your sister and Munson?”

You lowered your head down, facing the ground, not wanting to cry as you thought about them ruining your week.

You heard the chair creak, as Steve moved to sit to you. “I’m sorry,” Steve apologised. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

You shook your head, telling him, “Don’t worry about it.”

You lifted your head, and sighed before telling him, “I wouldn’t have minded them being together if they weren’t such arseholes. But…I don’t know what I’ve done to Eddie to make him despise me.”

“Hey, I’m sure that you’ve done nothing wrong, okay?” Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulder, as he said, “Whatever his problem is, that’s on him. The same goes with your sister.”

You leaned against his shoulder, as you said, “If only I wasn’t born in the same family as her. It would’ve made things less complicated.”

Steve had a sympathetic expression on his face, as he lightly ruffled your dampened hair, which made you smile a little bit. Suddenly, you both heard the phone ring.

“I better get that,” Steve said as he moved away from you, getting up on his feet, before heading inside to answer the phone, leaving you alone to pack your stopwatch in your bag, before taking out your diary and started writing…

No longer tolerating with the so called valour bard being seduced by the succubus, and being banished by the acrobat’s wicked mother from seeing her friend again, the mermaid swam to the other side of the island to find a new sanctuary where she found the young fallen king. Despite his former status, she got on well with the king, and he was willing to help her any way possible, even if it was to talk about her problems. There were times that the mermaid wished she was a part of the king’s family and not have a sibling like…

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard Steve call your name.

You looked up, as you closed your diary.

“It’s your dad,” Steve informed you. “He wants you home right away.”

You felt deflated, hearing the word home. With the way things were at the moment, it didn’t feel like home.

You sighed as you shoved your diary back in your bag, before grabbing your dry clothes and ran inside to get changed.

Shortly getting changed, you immediately ran for the door, as you shouted, “Thanks Steve. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Steve called out, as he raided his fridge when he turned to find you left your bag behind on the lounge chair. He rushed to pick it up and ran out of the house, as he shouted, “Hey, you forgot-“

By then, you had already gone. Steve shook his head, before going back inside to get his car key.

[rems-writing]

Cyberpunk's bartender

》 Pairing: bartender!Wooyoung x gn!erader

》 Genre: Fluff

》 Wordcount: 1,800 words

》 Rating: nc-17

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

Wooyoung chuckled to himself as he saw a group of girls walk inside the club and saw one of them stand out from the others. She looked sheepish and definitely did not want to be outdoors right now. He understood far too well that sometimes, people just don’t like being forced to go out. As soon as Mingi, the bouncer that let these women in, gave a signal and pointed to the incredibly shy girl that flinched at everything, Wooyoung nodded and gave a thumbs-up in return. After all, he was also used to helping introverts like that woman escape. 

“I NEED THREE TEQUILA SUNRISES FOR BOOTH 1024!”

Wooyoung heard Jongho’s voice resonate within the dingy strip club and he nodded. He set to work on making the mixed drinks, pouring each amount of tequila perfect into the metal shaker before adding ice and closing it. He started shaking it with one hand while the other gathered three glasses so he could pour the drink in. Once he set the shaker down, he grabbed a strainer and placed it over the opened shaker before pouring each drink into the frosted glasses. He grabbed the tiny umbrellas and stabbed three maraschino cherries before topping the drinks with it. 

“THREE TEQUILA SUNRISES!”

Wooyoung’s voice was incredibly loud, even through the booming techno music the strippers were dancing to. Jongho hurried over to the bar and grabbed the drinks carefully before thanking him and walking over towards the booth. Wooyoung sighed and quickly washed his tools so he could prepare for making the next few drinks. He hated using dirty tools when making drinks. He believed that the remnants from the last cocktail mixed in with the new cocktail would make it taste bad. It’s a silly ideology, but to him, it made the most sense. He was currently watching the crowd and observing the different dynamics they got going on here. Soon, he felt a presence in front of him and he smiled brightly. 

“Well well. If it isn’t my favorite customer.”

You giggled and playfully rolled your eyes at his compliment. Wooyoung had first met you when you came in with so much stress. You weren’t one to drown your sorrows in alcohol, but you had just about enough. As an event coordinator and a travel planner, it seemed like you could never catch a break. The only upside to your job is that you were self-employed so you were your own boss and you could take as many days off as you want. After the occasions you helped out with, you were definitely taking a month long vacation. 

“Do you say that to all your customers?”

“Of course not, doll. They aren’t as put-together as you.”

“Ok ok fine. Enough with your pretty words. You know the drill.”

“So the usual then?”

You nodded and Wooyoung set straight to work. He decided to put on a little show for you since you expressed that you felt fascinated with the way Wooyoung makes drinks. From a simple whiskey on the rocks to the most complicated cocktail (i.e. the cosmopolitan), you believed he had the magic touch. After Wooyoung set your drink down, you thanked him and took a sip. You were surprised. Your usual, which was green apple Crown Royal mixed with Sprite, tasted stronger than usual. Not that you didn’t mind of course. You had a strong tolerance. However, this normally only had one shot of Crown mixed into it. 

“Woo. Did you put two shots in this?”

“I did. And before you ask, I didn’t fuck up. I added another shot intentionally. After everything you’ve told me, I figured you’d need to relax a bit more.”

Your heart fluttered at Wooyoung’s thoughtfulness and you thanked him by raising your glass to him. He poured his own shot and clinked his glass with you before knocking it back. He set his empty shot glass in the sink and handed you the menu. 

“Order what you want. It’s on the house.”

“Woo, no -”

Wooyoung reached over and put his finger on your lips to shush you. Normally, you would’ve rolled your eyes and shoved his finger off, but for some reason, you felt a bit flustered under his touch today. It definitely wasn’t the alcohol speaking. You weren’t even tipsy yet! Perhaps it’s just the environment you’re in. After all, you were technically in a place where women’s hormones go crazy. Once upon a time, you used to be like them. Now? You had your priorities straight. 

“It’s fine, doll. I mean it.”

“Fine… I’ll take the takoyaki and katsu pork bites please.”

“Want to throw some potstickers in there as well?”

“Sure.”

Wooyoung nodded and took your order to the kitchen while you sipped on your drink. While you were waiting for him, you noticed a girl trying to shrink back into the booth she was at with, who you assumed were, her coworkers. You chuckled as she tried her best to be a wallflower in a place such as Cyberpunk. You also felt bad for her as well. Mingi told you briefly about this woman and you honestly wanted to beat those women’s asses. Sadly, it’s none of your business. The most you can do is wish that she smoothly escapes them as soon as possible. 

“One order of takoyaki, katsu pork bites, and potstickers for my favorite customer.”

Wooyoung’s voice snapped you out of your observant haze quickly and you turned around to see the food placed in front of you. You were salivating. After weeks of eating nothing but healthy food in your own home, you considered today a cheat day. You grabbed your chopsticks and picked up a katsu pork bite before eating it. Apparently, this was a new thing on the menu. 

And you hoped they’d keep it. 

“Woo… this is fucking bomb! Tell the chef to keep this on the menu!”

Wooyoung chuckled smoothly and found your love for bar food so adorable. He made a mental note to do that before he left. As he watched you eat, he couldn’t help but stare at you. The way your hair fell in front of your face (he wanted to reach out and tuck it behind your ear), the way your cheeks puffed up as you kept eating (there were a few crumbs stuck to the corners of your mouth and he wanted to wipe them away with his thumb badly), and the way you drank your strong drink with such poise? Yeah this man is in love. 

“I NEED A ROUND OF SHOTS PLUS THE STRONGEST DRINK YOU HAVE FOR BOOTH 1117!”

Jongho’s voice broke Wooyoung out of his lovestruck stupor and he sighed deeply. He knew which booth Jongho was referring to. Setting to work, he first made the cocktail since it was a longer process. Once the drink was made, he took out a lot of shot glasses and placed them on the tray. 

“WHAT ALCOHOL DO THEY WANT?!”

Jongho asked the customer real quick on what shots they wanted to order before yelling back. 

“SOJU!”

Wooyoung nodded and took out some soju bottles before pouring the spirit into each frosted shot glass. Once he was done, he double checked to make sure everything was in order before shouting out to Jongho.

“A ROUND OF SOJU SHOTS AND A STRONG COCKTAIL!”

Jongho walked over and grabbed the tray once more before placing a dollar bill in front of Wooyoung. It was a tip. A generous one at that. Wooyoung pocketed the money before turning back to you. His eyes widened at the empty plate and they trailed up to you, still sipping on your drink as if you didn’t order so much bar food. 

“Well I’ll be damned. I’m calling you Kirby with the way you practically inhaled that food.”

“That would require me having a black hole for a stomach though, and we both know I don’t have that.”

Wooyoung laughed at your sassy reply and nodded before pouring himself another shot.

“To our aspirations of becoming Kirby!”

You clinked glasses and knocked back your drinks before setting the glass down. Wooyoung took your empty glass and looked back up at you. 

“You want a refill?”

“Nah. It’s ok. I think I’m done for today.” 

“Perfect!”

You were confused as to why Wooyoung said that and said it in that tone. It wasn’t until your eyes landed on an empty shot glass that you realized what he was doing. You immediately shook your head. 

“I have work tomorrow -”

“What time do your clients come in?”

“Uh… around noon or 2 PM.”

“Great! Now come on. Knock one back with me.”

“Wooyoung, I don’t know -”

“Did you drive here? If you did, I’ll take your decline.”

“Well no. My car’s in the shop so I took an uber here…”

“All the more reason to take a shot! Come on. It’s Friday!” 

“Woo…”

Wooyoung took your hand in his and rubbed your knuckles with his thumb. You felt more flustered than before and you couldn’t help but find him so handsome underneath the dim lighting of the bar. His black hair was tied back into a small ponytail while two strands hung in front of his face. His jawline was sharp, his lips looked tempting and kissable, and his eyes were shining with mischief and amusement. There was also a sincerity behind them too. 

“You work so hard, Y/N. You deserve this. I’ll take care of you. Like always.”

You didn’t say anything, prompting Wooyoung to continue. 

“I’m not going to lie. I mainly just wanted to flirt with you and get a rise out of you. I’m fine with being friends. However, if you’re on the same wavelength as me, then I will tell you right now. I fell in love with you. I’m so in love with the way you talk, move, and hold yourself. I figured someone like me could never be with someone like you. But I’m willing to shoot my shot and give us a try. The question now is… are you?”

You were taken aback by Wooyong’s confession. The bartender that you like also likes you back. You felt your heart hurt when he said that he doesn’t deserve someone like you when in reality, it’s sort of the vice verse. However, seeing as he’s willing to give it a try, you thought “Fuck it.” in the back of your mind. You were independent, made good money, and had a stable life overall. Why not share that life with someone? You intertwined your fingers with his and a small smile appeared on your face. 

“Yeah… I’m willing to give us a try.”

With that, you both took your shots, and the rest is now history. 

[moonstruckme]

7K!!!!!! And a birthday!!!! What a day!!!!!

For the celly can I please request “frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise” with tasm!peter? Pretty predictable of a pairing but I just love how you write him

What a day indeed!! Thanks for requesting angel

cw: mention of blood, bruises, and general violence (not being inflicted in the scene)

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 685 words

Peter is lucky you don’t faint at the sight of blood. You tell him as much, which makes him chuckle, which makes you both wince as the cut on his lip reopens. 

He’s blooming with bruises. You can tell they’re going to be bad—they already are bad, but you know they’re going to get worse. You’re doing your best to mitigate the damage with what you have on hand. There’s a slice of plastic-wrapped cheese laid across the less severe bruise on his jaw and a bag of frozen peas pressed as delicately as possible to the darker one across his temple. Peter could probably hold either of these himself, but he’s decided to busy his hands with the edges of your pajama shorts and leave the work of nursing to you. 

“How’d you get this one?” you ask, stroking your thumb close to the one on his temple. 

“Same guy.” Peter’s voice is light, though you can tell he’s hurting by the way he’s barely moving his lips. “I think his main plan was to try to knock me out.” 

You feel your face scrunch, sympathy for your boyfriend and disgust for his attacker warring in you. He coils the drawstring of your shorts around his finger and smiles at you with the working side of his mouth. 

“It didn’t work.” 

“Maybe you should’ve stayed down,” you mumble. 

“That wouldn’t have really been consistent with the whole ‘neighborhood protector’ thing…” 

“Who were you protecting this time, though?” You aim for lightness, but the question falls with unintended weight between you. You rub your lips together, looking at the peas instead of him. “It was a carjacking. I mean, it still sucks, but nobody was being physically hurt except you.” 

“Hey.” Peter’s voice is soft, teasing. He strokes a thumb over your thigh. “You should see the other guy.” 

You expel a breath. It aches a little coming out. “I just…it feels like you put yourself in danger tonight for nothing.” 

You’re still not quite looking at him, but you see his eyebrows scrunch in your periphery. The levity saps from his expression. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t in any real danger. I always make it back, don’t I?” 

“Barely,” you murmur, softer than soft. 

“I’ll be good as new in a couple days,” he assures you. “Super strength and super healing and all that, remember?” 

“I know. It’s scary when you come back like this, though.” 

“Hey.” Peter taps your thigh. You look at him, and he rewards you with a little smile. “It’s not like it happens all the time. These guys were waiting for me. They knew I was coming and they got the jump, but that’s not, like, a regular thing.” 

“I know,” you say again. “I just wish you’d pick your battles sometimes. If no one’s getting hurt, and you are getting hurt, maybe it’s not always worth it. You could at least consider leaving things be some of the time.” You smile back at him, and it’s a bit watery. “The cars will be okay.” 

Peter looks back at you for a minute. You look down, embarrassed—you’re not even the one getting hurt, what right do you have to get all emotional about it?—but you can still feel him studying you. After a while, he says, “Okay.” 

You blink. “Okay?” 

He smiles. Not like he’s consoling you this time, but like he can’t help it. “Yeah, baby. I don’t want to scare you for nothing. So I’ll try” —he sighs— “to pick my battles a little bit. Sometimes.” 

You feel teary again. “Thanks,” you say thinly. 

Peter’s brows hook in the middle, his hand moving up to hold your hip as though to steady you. “Sure,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was freaking you out so much.” 

You laugh, shrugging and wiping wetness away from your bottom lashes. He pouts. 

“Kiss?” 

It’s an easy request to oblige. You kiss Peter on his top lip, the good side, but when that’s not enough for him and his bottom lip splits again anyway, he says he doesn’t mind.

[ninjatrashpanda]

Home (Home is wherever I'm with You)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round Two. Day Seven: "Predict the Future." Read on AO3 here.

“Oh yeah,” Buck exclaimed, handing another freshly washed plate to Tommy to dry. Evenings like this one were becoming more and more common. Buck and Tommy would meet up at Tommy’s house or Buck’s loft after their shifts, cook and eat dinner together, do the dishes together, and then settle down on the couch for a movie Tommy wanted to see, or a documentary to fuel Buck’s latest hyperfixation before heading to bed, either for a round of ‘Was I a good boy, Daddy?’ or to just sleep, depending on how tired they were after work. “My lease runs out in three months. Remind me that I have to talk to my landlord about a new one.”

Tommy nodded, putting the now dry plate on top of the stack next to him. “I can remind you, but have you thought about maybe… I don’t know… not renewing it?” His tone was casual, as it usually was, but Buck could tell that he was nervous from the way the blue of his eyes seemed to waver. For all that Tommy knew how to mask his facial expressions, Buck had quickly learned that his eyes had the tendency to betray him as long as you knew what to look for.

Buck let out a small chuckle, reaching for another plate, one of his eyebrows rising in confusion. “Not renewing?” he echoed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what? Move into the station full time?”

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more… you know, here. At my place.”

An odd sense of quiet spread through the room for a moment, despite the soft clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of the dishwasher running behind them. It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue proposal, not really. In fact, Buck figured, they’d been tiptoeing around it for weeks, maybe months. Their evenings together were less about convenience and more about the deep comfort they’d found in each other’s company, the quiet routines they’d built together. On nights when their shifts kept them apart, Buck deeply missed and outright craved Tommy, and not just in the sexual sense either. He’d realized a while ago that he really didn’t want to be apart from his boyfriend for any extended amount of time.

“You… You want me to move in with you?”

Tommy stopped drying for a second, focusing on folding the towel in his hands to avoid meeting Buck’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. I mean, we’re here all the time anyway, right? You’ve got a drawer, you’ve got space in the closet, half your stuff’s already in the bathroom. It just makes sense. Plus…" He finally looked up, his expression softening. “I like having you around, Evan. It feels… good. Natural.”

Buck didn’t respond immediately. He reached for the next dish, but instead of handing it over, he stared at the water droplets sliding down the ceramic, his mind working through the unspoken implications. He wasn’t scared, exactly. Living with Tommy had an appeal, a strong one, but it also carried weight. The last time he moved in with a partner had been an absolute disaster (and Buck was mature enough to acknowledge that it wasn’t fully or even mostly on Taylor either) and he really, really didn’t want his relationship with Tommy to go down the same path.

He finally spoke, voice steady but thoughtful. “I like being here with you too, Tommy, of course I do, I love you. It’s just… moving in, it’s a big step. You sure we’re ready for that?”

Tommy’s lips pressed together as he kept playing with his towel, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He didn’t want to push, and Buck knew and appreciated that. This wasn’t about trying to goad Buck into doing something he wasn’t ready for; it was about opening a door that, deep down, he already knew they both wanted to walk through.

“I get that it’s a big step,” Tommy finally said, his voice a touch softer, though still carrying that cadance of sincerity that Buck had become so familiar with. “I’m not trying to pressure you or make you feel like we have to do this now. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and… honestly, I’m ready if you are.” His eyes met Buck’s, unwavering, calm but warm, and full of love. “No rush, no pressure. Just… think about it.”

Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, running a hand through his damp curls. There was a knot in his chest that he hadn’t quite figured out how to untangle, a mix of excitement, anxiety, and an old, familiar fear of things falling apart when they seemed to be going too well.

“I do love being here,” Buck admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might somehow jinx what they had. “And you’re right. Half my stuff’s already here. I just…” He paused, words getting caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. “I guess I’m scared, you know? Last time I moved in with someone, I made a whole bunch of mistakes. It was a bad idea, and we rushed into things and it got… messy.”

Tommy nodded, leaning against the counter, his fingers still absently twisting the towel. “I know what happened with Taylor wasn’t easy, Evan. But that was different. You were different. And I’m not her.” He took a step closer, closing the space between them, his hand finding Buck’s in the soapy sink. The warmth of Tommy’s touch grounded him, and for a second, the room felt smaller, quieter. More intimate.

“You’re not,” Buck agreed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of Tommy’s hand. “And I don’t want to compare what we have to that. I just… I want to make sure we’re doing this for the right reasons. Not because it’s convenient or comfortable, but because it’s what we both really want.”

Tommy tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching Buck’s face as if trying to read the thoughts that Buck was too afraid to say out loud. “If you need to think about it, that’s okay. You know I’m not gonna hold it against you, right?”

Buck let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of Tommy’s words settle over him. He knew Tommy meant every word. There was no hidden agenda, no underlying expectation. He was simply being honest about what he wanted, but ready to let it go if Buck didn’t. And Buck knew that should he say no, Tommy would be disappointed, but nothing would change between them. Tommy would know that Buck declining now wasn’t a never, just a not at this point. And that was what made this relationship so different from all the others. It wasn’t built on fleeting passion or some burning need to be wanted. It was steady, patient, and real.

“I know,” Buck said, his voice a little more solid this time. He turned to look at Tommy, really look at him. The man who had somehow woven himself into the fabric of Buck’s everyday life without either of them really noticing it happening. Tommy was everything Buck never thought he needed. Calm where Buck was impulsive, thoughtful where Buck was driven by instinct. It made Buck feel safer than he had in a long time.

Tommy smiled, a soft, understanding curve of his lips. “There’s no rush, baby,” he said again, letting his hand squeeze Buck’s gently before releasing it and taking the next dish. “We can talk about it whenever you’re ready. Or not talk about it. Whatever works.”

*

“So, what’s bugging you?” Bobby asked as he threw Buck’s apron over to him. They’d just gotten back to the station after a minor fender bender (three mild injuries, no deaths) and after sending everyone off to do their chores, he had quickly roped Buck into making dinner with him. Buck should have known it was a set-up.

“Wow, okay,” he said, grabbing an onion to dice for the bolognese recipe Tommy had gotten from his Nonna, a recipe both Bobby and Buck had gotten obsessed with mastering. “Not even gonna try to butter me up first, huh?”

Bobby chuckled as he started chopping the garlic, his hands moving with the kind of ease that came from years of cooking for the station. “We both know I’m not great at subtlety,” he said, glancing up at Buck with a pointed look. “Besides, I can tell something’s been on your mind. Figured I’d cut to the chase.”

Buck sighed, shaking his head slightly as he focused on the onion in front of him. The sharp smell of it hit him as soon as he sliced into it, and the familiar sting of onion-tears started piecing his eyes. He really should’ve known Bobby would catch on. If not him, who?

“I don’t know, Cap,” Buck said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s kinda dumb, really. I’ve just been... thinking. A lot.”

Bobby didn’t respond right away, just kept working at the garlic, letting Buck find his way to whatever he needed to say. Buck appreciated it. He hated being pushed to answer, and it always made him feel like he had to justify himself for feeling things. Bobby leaving him air to breathe and sort his thoughts, even if he was a little embarrassed that Bobby could read him so readily.

Buck did appreciate it. But it did also make him squirm.

“You know you’re allowed to think about things,” Bobby said after a moment, keeping his tone light. “But sometimes you get stuck in your head, Buck. And I’m not sure that’s where you want to be right now.”

Buck dropped the knife on the cutting board with a sigh, the rhythmic chop-chop of onions halting as he wiped his hands on his apron. “It’s not that,” he muttered, staring down at the half-diced onion, almost willing it to give him answers.

“So what is it?”

Buck looked up, meeting Bobby’s eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He could feel the weight of Bobby’s concern, genuine and steady, like the man was always a step ahead, trying to make sure everyone around him was okay.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “Tommy asked me to move in with him, and I’m scared.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, pausing his garlic chopping for a second before setting the knife down. “Scared?” His tone was gentle, but Buck could sense the surprise there. “Of moving in with Tommy, or… something else?”

Buck let out a long breath, the air thick with the smell of onions and garlic now, the comforting scents of a familiar meal that should have helped ease his tension but only seemed to magnify the knot twisting in his stomach. He looked down at the onion, pushing it around the board with the edge of his knife. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but it was like they didn’t want to come out. Talking about feelings was never easy for him, especially not the deep, vulnerable ones. But this… this was Bobby. The man who had been there through the worst and somehow still saw him, still believed in him.

“I don’t know,” Buck finally said, the words coming out in a rush, like if he didn’t say them now, they’d never come. “I’m not really scared of moving in, I’m scared of messing it all up like I did with Taylor.”

Bobby gave a small nod and a hum, his expression one of calm realization. He turned and resumed chopping the garlic, the steady sound of the knife hitting the cutting board filling the silence between them. Buck appreciated the way Bobby let the quiet hang, giving him the space to work through his tangled thoughts.

“I know I shouldn’t compare the two,” Buck said, frustration creeping into his voice. He resumed dicing the onion, his movements a little too quick, the sharp knife clattering against the board. “Tommy’s not Taylor and I’m not the same Buck that I was back then, but it’s like I can’t help it. Every time I think about taking the next step with him, my mind goes back to everything I did wrong with Taylor. How I thought I could make it work, despite everything, and then… well, you know how that went.”

Bobby set down his knife again, wiping his hands on a towel as he turned to fully face Buck. His gaze was steady, not judgmental, just patient. “Buck, you can’t beat yourself up over past mistakes forever. You’ve learned from them. That’s what matters.”

Buck frowned, his hands stilling for a moment as he considered Bobby’s words. “Yeah, but what if I haven’t learned enough? What if I mess this up too? Tommy… he’s important to me. Like, really important. I think he could be it, you know? And the last thing I want to do is hurt him or make things awkward between us.”

Bobby gave a small nod, leaning back against the counter as he crossed his arms. “I get that, Buck. Believe me, I do. But relationships aren’t about never making mistakes. They’re about being willing to learn and grow together. From what I’ve seen, you and Tommy are already doing that.”

Buck stared at the sloppy onion dices in front of him, the smell still sharp, mixing with the garlic Bobby had finished. “What if I can’t handle the pressure? I mean, living together is a big deal. I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

Bobby smiled faintly, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he watched Buck. “Do you want to be ready, though?”

Buck blinked. The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t something he had considered, at least not in those terms. Did he want to be ready? Of course he did, didn’t he? But then again, that was part of the problem. He wanted to be perfect, to have it all figured out before he took the leap. The thought of messing up, of failing, of somehow destroying what he and Tommy had, gnawed at him.

“I do,” Buck sighed, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to screw this up, Bobby. I’ve done that too many times already. What if I’m just not meant for this? What if...”

Bobby held up a hand, stopping him gently but firmly. “Buck, stop.” He shook his head slightly, his tone soft but unwavering. “You’re not broken. You’ve been through a lot, and yeah, you’ve made mistakes. We all have. But that doesn’t mean you’re destined to keep repeating them.”

Buck felt a lump form in his throat. He hated how accurate Bobby’s assessment of him was. How often had he thought like that about himself? That he was somehow defective, doomed to fail at every relationship he tried to make work? It was like a heavy weight tied around his neck, one that seemed to make it harder and harder to keep his head up.

Bobby’s eyes softened as he kept speaking, his voice filled with that steady, reassuring calm Buck had come to rely on. “You’re allowed to be scared, Buck. It means this matters to you. But don’t let that fear keep you from something good. You and Tommy… you’ve got something worth fighting for. And from what I’ve seen, you’re both willing to put in the work.”

Buck swallowed, his eyes burning a little, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the onion or the sudden rush of emotions coursing through his body. He wiped his hands on his apron again, more out of habit than necessity. “I guess I’m just scared I’ll let him down,” he admitted quietly. Bobby had done it once again. He had peeled back every single one of Buck’s worries and doubts and had nailed exactly what the source of his issues was. “He deserves someone who’s... not a mess.”

Bobby shook his head, stepping closer and resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Buck, you’re not a mess. You’re human. And Tommy knows that. You two are building something together, and that’s not something that happens overnight. It takes time, effort, and yeah, sometimes it takes stumbling a little along the way. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it.”

Buck looked up at Bobby, his throat tight, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little as he heard the words. He knew Bobby meant them. He could see it in his eyes, could hear it in his voice.

“Do you think I can do this?” Buck asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

Bobby’s smile was small but full of warmth. “I think you already are. You’re asking the right questions, thinking about it the way you should. You care enough to want to get it right. That’s what matters.”

Buck nodded slowly, feeling a little of the tension start to melt away. Bobby’s words had a way of doing that, of making things seem less impossible, less overwhelming. Maybe he didn’t have it all figured out yet, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe just wanting to do better, wanting to be there for Tommy, was enough for now.

“Thanks, Cap,” Buck said, his voice steadier now. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

Bobby gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to the cutting board, picking up his knife and getting back to the garlic. “Anytime, Buck. And hey, when you move in with Tommy, don’t forget to keep practicing this bolognese. I’m counting on you to help me perfect it.”

Buck laughed, a real, genuine laugh that he hadn’t realized he needed. He picked up his knife again, the rhythm of chopping the onion coming more easily now, less frantic. “Deal. But only if you let me make the garlic bread.”

“Done,” Bobby said with a grin. “Now, let’s finish this before everyone starts complaining about being hungry.”

*

“This is the last one,” Tommy called, carrying a box down the stairs to Buck’s former bedroom. Buck, waiting at the base with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his suitcase by his side. “You had a lot less stuff than I expected, baby.”

Buck smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, it’s… I never really needed much, you know?”

It was true. Buck had, for all intents and purposes, been kind of a minimalist with the loft. He lived at the station half the time anyway, so he had never really tried to accessorize or anything. A few pictures of himself and his family, from Maddie and Bobby to Christopher and Jee-Yun were about the only things that he figured mattered. He loved his family, and being surrounded by them, even if it was only through photographs, always made him feel better.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, putting the box to the ground. And that… was a loaded question. Yes, Buck was okay, technically. He wanted this. He wanted to move in with Tommy, was okay with letting the loft go.

But this had still been his home for the last six years of his life. It was still the end of an era.

“Just… feeling a little nostalgic is all.”

Tommy nodded, an understanding smile making its way to his face. “Makes sense,” he said quietly, running his hand through his messy curls as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been through a lot in this place.”

Buck sighed, his eyes drifting around the room, taking in the bare walls, the empty bookshelves, the absence of the things that had once made this place feel like his. There was a time when this loft had been a refuge, a place to heal after he had hit rock bottom more than once. He’d been here after the ladder truck had crushed his leg, after the tsunami, after the lightning strike. His relationships with Ali and Taylor and Natalia had ended here. He had spent weeks in here all alone when he had filed the lawsuit that had almost destroyed his relationships with the people that mattered most to him.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice soft. “A lot happened here.”

And yet, it had also been a sanctuary, a place of endless laughter, and some of the best parts of his life. Getting this place had made him feel like an adult for the first time in his life. He had felt independent in a way not even traveling across the country on his own had made him feel. He and Eddie had made up after the lawsuit in here, he and Christopher had spent countless hours pummeling each other in fighting games, he’d first seen Jee-Yun crawl in here when she had made her way from the door to the couch. He had even delivered his Conner and Kameron’s child in here.

Tommy and him had shared their first kiss here.

Tommy watched him carefully, his eyes twinkling with fondness. “You don’t have to let it all go, you know,” he said, voice gentle. “You can take the memories with you.”

Buck smiled at that, the kind of smile that cracked through the melancholy even though it still didn’t quite fill out his face. “I know. It’s just… this place has seen every part of me, you know? The mess, the mistakes, the times I got back up again. It’s hard to leave that behind.”

“I get it,” Tommy murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against Buck’s arm. “And it’s normal. Leaving your old home for a new one is always hard.”

Buck’s gaze softened as he looked at Tommy, grateful for the way he understood, the way he just… got it. That was one of the things that had made Buck fall for him in the first place. Tommy knew how to be present, how to listen without forcing an answer or solution.

“Moving in with you,” Buck said, looking down at the duffel bag and then back at the empty space around him, “it feels right. I just didn’t expect it to feel this… complicated too.”

Tommy chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss Buck’s temple, his arm moving around Buck’s shoulders. “Change always is. Even the good ones. But look, we don’t have to rush anything. If you need more time, I—”

“No,” Buck interrupted, though his tone was gentle. “I’m ready. I really am. I want this—us.” He turned to pull Tommy into a slow, soft kiss, resting his forehead against Tommy’s. “I think I just need a second to say goodbye to this place, you know?”

Tommy squeezed his hand, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Take all the time you need.”

Buck turned back toward the loft, his heart heavy but steady, while Tommy went to grab the box and stand in the doorway. Buck walked slowly around the room, letting his fingers graze the walls, each touch bringing back fragments of the life he’d lived here. The first time he’d stood in the kitchen, fresh from a shift, feeling like he was finally becoming the man he wanted to be. The nights he’d stayed awake, trying not to let his loneliness get to him, wondering if he’d ever be enough for anyone. The day Maddie had come home after getting treated for her PPD. The moment Eddie had told him that Chris thought of him as a hero, a title Buck never felt like he deserved but wore like armor anyway.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the Los Angeles skyline glowing with the soft hues of the setting sun. The view had always been one of his favorite parts of this place. It reminded him that, no matter how chaotic life got, the world kept turning, kept moving. And so did he.

With a deep breath, Buck finally allowed t’he tears that had built behind his lids to flow free, feeling the weight of six years lift from his shoulders. This place had been his sanctuary, his shelter. But now, he realized, it had also been his cocoon. It had kept him safe while he grew, while he healed. But he wasn’t the same man who had first walked through that door all those years ago. He was ready to spread his wings and step into something new.

Something with Tommy.

He stepped back in, his heart full but at peace, and caught Tommy’s eye. “I think I’m good now,” he said softly, smiling—a real, genuine smile this time.

Tommy grinned, his eyes twinkling with that infectious warmth that had always made Buck feel grounded. “Good. Because I was starting to think I’d have to carry all your boxes back up.”

Buck laughed, the sound light and free, cutting through the bittersweet air. “You’re hilarious. But no, I won’t strain your back like that, old man.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is!” Tommy shot back, his expression playful as Buck picked up his suitcase and duffel bag. “Come on, let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

Tommy grabbed the last box, and together, they headed for the door. Just before stepping through, Buck paused one last time, looking back over his shoulder at the loft. He let the memories settle in his mind, like pictures into a photo album.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, not to the loft itself, but to the man he used to be inside it. Then, he turned to join Tommy in the hallway. “Let’s go home.”

[bekkathyst]

The trees know me.

Growing up, I always knew there was something off about me. People treated me differently than they treated others. From the adults in my life, I heard that I was simply too sensitive. It was too easy to hurt me, I was too vocal about my emotions, and it would be better if I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself. In early school, I would get adopted by friend groups, but once I reached high school there was no real space for me. For the first couple of years I stuck with a certain friend group and later left when I realized half of them didn’t even know my name. People often referred to me as “the tall girl with glasses”, or even “the weird tall girl”. My appearance was just as strange as my personality, and people found me off-putting. I didn’t understand so much of what my peers said and did. I couldn’t understand why the people around me didn’t seem to have the same strong moral convictions, the same desire for self expression and the same disdain for the expectations of authority. I had, and continue to have, such a rich inner world in my head that it began to feel like I didn’t even need to have other people around.

Of course there must have been many others who felt the way I did, but it was too hard to connect with them for fear of the same bitter rejection. For a while, it made me angry and cold. My home life was so terrible, and school somehow could feel even worse at times. All I wanted to do was run away and escape, and at 17 years old, that’s what I did. I left school and left home and tried to grow up as fast as possible. I feel that in a lot of ways, this just made me even more isolated. I started to have no idea what people my age said and did anymore, and now, over a decade later, I still feel a massive disconnect with other people my age. I never quite belong; I’m never quite accepted. I now live on the other side of the world from where I grew up, and a lot of times, I feel the same insecurities I did so many years ago. People started strange rumors about me and my family, questioning why I didn’t have a normal job and questioning how I even supported myself.

My family has been living in this village for over 400 years, but since I grew up across the world, I am considered an outsider. My age old inability to act in a normal or expected way when meeting new people just fuels their skepticism, and it feels like I’m trapped in this horrible cycle of ruining my chances of ever having a real community.

Every time I ruminate about this, I remember one thing. The trees know me. They welcome me when I visit them. The glacial streams that flow through the woods recognize the blood in my veins. I know I belong here. I belong here because the forest embraces me and pats my head and tells me I’m home. I will never doubt again.

[tsukimefuku]

the hero i was, the man i am :: toshinori yagi/all might

Toshinori is having a hard day, and you decide to help him out with a much needed pep talk.

content warning: true form toshinori x reader, gender neutral reader, hurt and comfort, mention of scars.

wc: 600

notes etc.: thank you @actuallysaiyan and @g00miato for getting me into the all might agenda. I see the vision (and it’s wonderful from here 💜).

Toshinori wasn’t one to usually wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

Yet, here he was, staring at himself in your shared bedroom’s mirror while dressed in his old All Might attire. His eyes glanced down his lean form, clearly not enough to fill the clothes that draped and bagged around his thin frame.

His hero uniform, once worn with a proud smile, felt like a poorly made costume from the thrift shop.

Perhaps, even worse than that.

“Toshi?” your voice echoed into the room, and he turned his face around towards you, trying to spare you a smile. However, it felt like a mask. 

“Oh, darling. I didn’t hear you coming into the house. You got those groceries incredibly fast.”

“I was gone for a few hours, love,” you replied, walking towards him, with slight concern tightening your chest. “are… are you okay, my dear?”

He tried keeping his smile going, but it quickly morphed into a frown as he diverted his gaze back to the mirror.

“What do you see?” he asked in a low voice.

You hummed for a second. “What do you?”

“I…” Toshinori’s voice dragged for a short while, as if he picked apart a dozen different words, but none of them felt quite right, “I see a shadow. An immaterial shadow that cannot touch things as the body that has cast it once did. I cannot do much in this form, if at all, to help people. Not anymore.” 

You took a pensive expression and held his hand, turning him to face you.

“Do you want to know what I see?” 

Toshinori seemed sad and disappointed with himself as he nodded. His shoulders hung low, with a weight you would never be able to fully comprehend — a beacon of hope, Japan said — and you thought, for a second, that he blamed himself to a great extent for what had happened since his last fight with All for One.

“I see…” you started, taking his hands in yours and slowly peeling his gloves away, “the hands that have taken hundreds of people from under debris.” 

You stepped closer, and held the hem of his shirt, sliding it off his body from his shoulders, “I see the shoulders that have carried me and so many others to safety in times of need.”

He sighed softly when you put your hand over his scar, and locked eyes with you before you slid both your hands down his body and undid his belt, letting his pants fall to the floor. “I see the legs that have carried you to all the places you were needed. Even when it was to your own detriment, you did it, and did it with a smile.”

Finally, you held his face in your hands, and smiled at him.

“I see the face of the man that inspired and supported so many students. That still does. The face I fell in love with. So that’s what I see — I see you. How could I ever see anything else?”

He sighed and smiled back at you, pulling you into a hug. Toshinori nuzzled your hair, and took in the smell of your preferred concoction of shampoo/conditioner and whatnot, which he absolutely adored. Your smell. 

“Thank you, my love.”

“Whenever you need, Toshi,” you replied with your face pressed against his chest, hugging him back tenderly. “Now, silly, I need your help to put the groceries away and we should start prepping for dinner. What do you say?” 

He sighed contently still holding you in his arms. That, they could still do.

He was thankful for that.

“Sounds lovely.”

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[smoothriverrocksrock]

TF ONE SPOILERS! :D

I really enjoyed it!

My god the references made, had me wanting to point at the screen and go “Oh! oh! I know what that means!!” Yes, they reference The Touch, it’s vague but it’s there. But no song cameo so boooo /lh

Two end credits scenes! First one with Bumblebee (haha funny scene) and second one with the Decepticons (ooo fun cool scene)

Jazz fans Im so sorry. He keeps getting jangled in front of the camera but never explored as a character and I’m sure it’s torture for all of you

Like on one hand it’s cool you can look at any crowd and play Recognize That Guy, but on the other hand it has you craving an actual moment with them. Obviously they can’t introduce a billion different characters and have them all explain their deal, because then there wouldn’t be any time left for plot, but OUCH. JUST GIVE ME AN IRONHIDE MOMENT PLEASE ITS BEEN YEARS

Bumblebee is the obligatory comedic relief, but he was actually given serious moments! He didn’t make crazy tone changes when it was a genuinely important scene! There was a moment where everyone was contemplating Sentinal’s betrayal, and I totally expected B to do a “well THAT just happened” thing, but he didn’t! He actually expressed how he felt! And he could actually be kinda funny! Had people laughing at his jokes in the theater, so that’s nice

STARSCREAM WAS GETTING HIS AFT BEAT BY MEGATRON??? AND BASICALLY SAID “KEEP GOING I CAN TAKE IT” AND??? UHHHHH????? LIKE IT WAS FRAMED AS A “UR WEAK LMAO” TYPE OF SCENE BUT GET FREAKY WITH IT IG. WAS LITERALLY GETTING CHOKED SO HARD DURING IT HIS VOICE BOX CRACKED

(also the fight SS and Megatron has was short but really good)

Honestly all the fights were peak. Had fun each time

Soundwave and Shockwave <3333 Soundwave gets to read minds one (1) time, and never again but at least it’s established he can do that <333 Sorry Shockwave fans he was kinda a punk here, someone get that man a lab so he can *really* shine. No cassettes tho :/ can’t win them all

Edit (putting more thoughts here):

D-16 said “This is the last time I show mercy” and ohhhhh boy did he mean it. Ironic as fuck that it’s in regards to sparing Starscream tho, like good luck with that one buddy

[bomber-grl]

Enemies to lovers with Leo Valdez

Pairing(s): Leo Valdez x Gn!Reader

If anything it probs stemmed from a misunderstanding

Maybe you were cranky the first two times he ever approached you

And perhaps you may have taken it out on him

And maybe just maybe he thought u were those stereotypical condescending people

Basically what ensued from then on was just you two attacking each other verbally each time you ran into each other

But then you’re officially introduced to him by either Percy or Annabeth or anyone else that’s part of the 7 that’s close to you

He’d be especially shocked if it’s Piper or Jason who introduces you two to eachother

Of course that doesn’t automatically solve anything and you’re both total assholes to each other still

Leo is complaining about you and how could any of his friends also be yours?

You feel the same exact way

And unfortunately this is a case of forced proximity as is all my hcs because I’m an uncreative bitch

Maybe it’s just me but I’d imagine constant bickering and making faces would be a bit hard to ignore and go unnoticed

So they all agree to force you two to get along

So you’re on the Argo ll and are forced to clean the stables

(Before the Athena Parthenos is put there obv)

It’s not messy messy but it’s still something

You two both finally agreed to be quiet

But then he gets almost thrown out the window by the ship getting rocked by a monster or something

And so you have to save him by obligation

You two are literally hanging out the window and Leo is yelling like crazy bro

Eventually you bring him back and he thanks you

It was done reluctantly- you make sure he knows that

Plus the situation gives you material to make fun of him for 💀

Then some time after that you’re fighting some daily monsters and he (despite not rlly being a fighter) helps you out by firing some of the weapons on the Argo

This incident spawns this unspoken alliance??

Literally everyone else is made aware of it too and even they’re confused

But honestly at least you’re not constantly at each others throats anymore

Instances where you saved each others asses continued from then on out

It got to the point where you saved eachother so often that you became literal 4lifers

Like genuinely enjoying each other’s company despite the occasional off handed remarks

There was obvious tension that you were both teased for by your individual friends

Even couch Hedge acknowledged it 💀

And youd both deny it

I mean it was the obvious choice

But there had always been tension between you two if you’re being honest

Like if someone asked you if you thought Leo was cute , well let’s not say you’d say he was, just that you really couldn’t deny it

And so your interactions and dynamic continued all the way until the prophecy that started this quest came to an end

And so did you interacting with Leo

He was dead, and despite having liked him, you’d never be able to tell him.

That’s something you had come to accept, and something you realized you’d never get the chance to admit to him

Until you could.

Leo appears back at camp with Calypso in tow

Let’s just say Leo felt ok about her and saved her cuz he’s a good guy and she went along cuz she wanted an escape)

Anyway like everyone else you line up to hit him

Ain’t no way you’re running to him when there’s so many other ppl infront 💀

Gods forbid YOU end up being the one that gets jumped

Even from the good amount of distance you’re away from him you can still very much see his- what can be best as described- upset demeanor

Why he looked that way? You didn’t know and couldn’t tell even if held at gunpoint

Well anyways eventually you end up face to face with him and his expression can’t even be described with just a few words

So ill try anyway

Hes absolutely star struck and, in truth, made breathless from the sight of you alone

I mean with the way Leo looks at you, you’d think he spotted his only true want in this world.

The guy doesn’t say anything at all but then he sorta gains consciousness (?)

He tries to hug you but then hesitates- tries again/ then hesitates

Before he could do anything else you slap the hell out of him 💀

The act is honestly so violate and loud it was genuinely startling

Some would say that you jumped him that day of his return but what did they know??

And then you hugged him

A deep, emotionally charged hug

All the days you had spent mourning him, being tortured by his death that you couldn’t help but feel was avoidable despite the prophecy-

And yet you couldn’t help but melt into the hug

Obviously awkwardness follows after- and for a good while after too

But in the end you two end up together (per advice from emmie and Jo once Apollo casually mentioned the undefined relationship between you two as defense against a remark Leo had made)

And after Apollo is done at the waystation (and you’re not already involved there)Leo will ask if you’d want to stay there together and go to school and be “normal” teens.

The answer is up to you, but we all know what you’re gonna choose

Cmon you’re reading this so you’re obviously down bad 💀

[snapghoul]

If we happen to be left half alive

Ethan discovers Mav almost died during the uranium mission.

Note: first of three ideas requested by Sunshine, so thank you ❤️❤️

Warnings: discussion of near death

Song: won’t get fooled again - the who

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Pete definitely felt his age. Ejecting from a jet traveling at Mach speed left him feeling like he'd been through a blender. His chest throbbed with bruises, and though he was thankful nothing was cracked or broken, it sure felt that way. He slumped in a chair at his beach house, aware that Cyclone had made it abundantly clear he needed to stay in Fightertown vicinity. That was a bitter pill to swallow; all Pete wanted was to return to the desert, fix his plane, and find some peace away from the endless parade of pilots knocking on his door. He loved his squad—those kids were just concerned—but he needed some time to simply exist.

With nothing on but the sound of the waves crashing across the narrow street, he leaned back in the chair, eyes closed, letting the beach’s rhythm wash over him. After two weeks of non-stop action and nearly dying in a frozen tundra, he craved nothing more than stillness.

The screen door creaked open, and he sighed, expecting it to be Bradley or another Dagger who felt entitled to stroll in unannounced. He braced himself for the impending visit but cracked an eye open when he heard a familiar sigh and saw someone settle onto the couch opposite him.

“Walk right in, welcome to Maverick’s revolving door. How can I help you?” Pete quipped, a chuckle escaping his lips. Ethan smirked, a soft snort of amusement slipping out.

“You should really lock that. Who knows who might just walk in?” Ethan replied, slouching deeper into the cushion, a rare display of comfort.

“If I did, I’d have to replace it. The Navy would just break it down,” Pete shrugged, wincing slightly at the jab of pain.

“I bet,” Ethan nodded. “I heard about the uranium situation.”

Pete raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face, his brother always so quick to cut to the point. He lifted his head from the cushion, narrowing his eyes at his twin. “You heard, or you dug it up?”

Ethan matched his gaze, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Same difference.”

Pete rolled his eyes, anticipating that it wouldn’t be long before his brother started probing. They both understood the risks of their lives but rarely discussed them. Still, Ethan had always prioritized others' safety over his own, and Pete knew that well.

Pete prepared to reassure him, raising a hand to wave off the concern as he always did. But Ethan beat him to it, the fear and pain in his eyes silencing Pete's attempts at comfort.

“You got shot down, Peter! You infiltrated an enemy base to steal an F-14 Tomcat! You almost died—what the hell were you thinking?” The frustration echoed in Ethan's voice, the same tone he’d used when he shouted at Bradley for coming after him.

“Three times if you count getting shot at by a helicopter and almost going down again on the way out,” Pete replied, forcing a smile and shrugging, trying to lighten the mood.

But Ethan's expression darkened, brows furrowing and mouth tightening in disapproval.

“Ethan—” Pete started, but Ethan held up a hand to stop him.

“You almost died, three times! Look, I know I can’t talk, but—” Ethan clenched his fist, shaking his head in frustration. “You’re the only family I have left. If you die on me—”

Pete sat up with a groan. He knew this moment was coming, yet it still hit hard. It was a stark truth: they were all each other had. He felt the weight of their shared worry.

“I know, E, I know. I’m sorry. In that moment, if I didn’t put myself between those missiles and Bradley, it was a risk I was willing to take.” His voice was steady, resolute. He would take any risk for Bradley; he owed that much to Goose and Carol.

Ethan’s expression softened, realizing the depth of Pete’s commitment. It had been a long time since Bradley was mentioned, and Ethan understood how much the kid meant to his brother.

“Okay… just—be careful?” Ethan finally said, his voice more vulnerable.

Pete smiled, nodding. “Always. You be careful too.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their argument lingering. It wasn’t often they clashed like this. Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m actually surprised they didn’t send you. Y’know, a secret uranium site in a remote, impossible location seems more your style,” Pete said with a smile.

Ethan chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

[richiejerimovichsblueeyes]

been loving your work recently... I think I need some richie angst to fluff in my life pleasee😆

Hey there anon! Thank you for your sweet words ♥️ I hope you enjoy this! I got kinda carried away with the fluff, lol.

I love you, Richard Lawrence Jerimovich!

Richie Jerimovich × female reader. Angst + Fluff

Warnings- some angst, but other than that nothing else. Brief mention of sex. But other wise just some tooth rotting fluff. There is a age gap between Richie and reader (didn’t specify age, only to keep it imersive for the reader). All my work is 18+, even if it's not smut. Although some of my work is SFW, I do still advise that minors do not interact, only because sex and other adult situations might be mentioned. I can't control what you read, but please be advised.

Author note- Richie's fluff makes me all mushy. This was so much fun to write <3

Word Count- 1,495

Request are open💕

“I have a feeling she is almost ten years younger than him.”

“I don’t know what women would date that loser.”

“I bet she’s just a rebound.”

“She won’t last another year with him”

Every cruel word from their bitchy mouths stung like a bee sting as I stood in line to pick up Eva. Did they think I was stupid? Or did they not care? Yes, I was younger than Richie. But it didn’t bother me until now. Tiff was always nice to me. I think she was happy Richie finally found someone who made him happy. I silently prayed for Eva’s class to let out so I wouldn’t be scrutinized by the snotty mom crew.

Small children burst out of the front door, all running towards their moms, dads, or whoever was waiting for them. Eva came bouncing toward me. She held up a drawing. “Y/N! I made you something” she beamed. I took the pink piece of construction paper. There were three stick people. There is a tall stick figure with brown hair, a shorter one with long hair and a triangle dress, and a short one with yellow hair drawn in with crayon. There was an attempt at a heart above the two adult stick people. My heart clenched in my throat. “It’s you and Dad, and then me.” She said with a smile. I felt tears prick my eyes. “Eva. I love this so much. Let’s go home and we’ll put it in the fridge for your Dad to see.” She grinned as I took my hand and walked her toward my car. 

As we walked to my car I felt the two of the bitchy moms eye me. 

“She’s so pathetic..thinking it’ll last between her and Eva’s dad. Poor girl.” Women A said. I hurried along with Eva, trying to get away from them as quickly as possible, hoping that Eva wouldn’t catch on to what was being said about me.

Eva hugged me before turning to her mom. “Thanks,” Tiff said with a smile as I handed her Eva’s school bag. I nodded trying to keep my expression at bay. The words from those women haunted me. What if I wasn’t meant for Richie? What if he didn’t love me? What if…what if.

“Eva, go run inside,” Tiff told Eva. The spunky kid ran inside as Tiff instructed. “Is everything ok?” She asked me once Eva was out of earshot. “Oh, I’m fine..just tired” I lied. “Hey, look. I know it’s probably weird for you being that I’m your boyfriend’s ex wife…what I want to say is that if you need anything you can talk to me. I know Richie can be a lot to handle with his temper, but I see that he cares a lot about you. And so does Eva.” I smiled at Tiff’s words. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” I felt nice that Tiff was on my side, but the insecure part of me was taunting me.

I held my tears together until I got home. Normally stuff like this didn’t get to me, but maybe the women at the school pickup line were right about me and Richie. Maybe we were destined to crash and burn. Maybe we’d end up with a sad story. Tears soaked my pillow as my thoughts ate me alive.

The door to my and Richies apartment swung open. He usually stopped to hang up his leather jacket, but today, he made his way to me, where I was a ball of emotions. “Hey, babe..are you ok? Tiff called and said you seemed upset while dropping Eva off.” Richie said softly while rubbing my arm. “I’m fine.” I lied. “No, you’re not; you’ve been crying. Come here.” I felt him gently lift me to make room for him to sit next to me on the couch. His arms pulled me in, making me even more emotional. I didn’t deserve him. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” He encouraged me. “It’s fine..” I said as I enjoyed the comfort of his embrace. “You’re not fine. Please tell me so I can fix it.” He said with sadness in his voice. I knew he hated seeing me like this, but I was afraid if I voiced my concerns he would realize that I wasn’t worth his time. “Richie..I swear I’m ok. I’m just really tired.” “I’m not buying that bullshit, Y/N.” His voice was a little more firm Indicating he was getting frustrated. “There’s no bullshit, Richie. Stop asking.” “Why won’t you let me in!? I’m your boyfriend for fuck sake. I’m supposed to help you. You’re shutting me out” He said with his voice raised. Tears fell from my eyes, my lip quivering to keep myself from crying harder.

“Hey, hey…” He soothed me while pulling me in tight to his warm body. He gently wiped the tears from my eyes with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry for not telling you why I was upset..” I said as I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I understand that maybe you’re not ready to open up about everything, and I get you need to process some emotions alone. But, it kills me to see you hurting.” He whispered into my hair. “The ladies at school pickup were talking shit behind my back when I was picking up Eva,” I admitted. I felt Richie stiffen. “What did they say?” He asked in a voice that was laced with anger. “Just stuff about how I’m too young for you. How we won’t last. That I’m just your rebound.” All those words they said were like a knife in my gut as I repeated them. “Fucking bitches! I’m gonna pick Eva up tomorrow and give them a piece of my mind. Nobody talks about my girl like that.” I felt his lips brush against my forehead. “babe..don’t cause a scene.” I warned. “I don’t care if they send their prick face husbands after me.” He kissed my forehead again. “Plus, baby..they are just jealous,” I laughed sarcastically. “Seriously sweetheart. Your so fucking beautiful, they’ve got nothing on you..” He declares as he brushes his lips against mine. “And…maybe they are just jealous because I’m so hot.” He teased. “oh, look who’s got a big ego.” I laughed as I gave him a playful swat. “You gave it to me, babe…telling me how good-looking I am all the time.” He winked. “They wish their husbands were as good-looking as you,” I said with a flirty smile and I straddled his lap to face him. He gently cupped my face bringing it close to his. A serious look washed over his face. “You know? I’d love to make you Mrs. Y/n Jerimovich.” The air escaped from my lungs. “You mean…that?” I asked breathlessly. “I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately..want to buy you a ring, put it on your finger” he said with a boyish grin while he brought my ring finger up to his lips and placed a kiss on it. “What do you say, babe? Make me the happiest guy in the world?” I nodded as I was too emotional to speak. I hovered my lips over his and answered his question with a deep long kiss. The heat from our mouths mingled, sealing his question with a kiss. “Well, I take that as a yes.” He said with a husky voice as he separated his lips just a space from mine. “I love you, Richard Lawrence Jerimovich,” I whispered against his lips. He lets out a growl of approval. “I love the way my name sounds coming from that pretty mouth.” He pulled me into a tight embrace, his arms making me feel safe and protected. The steady beat of his heart against me. This is where I belonged, in his arms. Loved and protected. 

We lay in bed, a tangled mess of limbs and sheets basking in the afterglow of sex.  “I completely forgot. Eva drew me a picture at school.” I told Richie, my head lying on his chest. “Yeah? What did the little artist draw?” He asked. “A stick family. You, me, and Eva. She drew a heart above you and me.” I said while picturing the artwork in my head. Richie smirked, giving me an indication he had a secret. “Spill it!” I said while poking his side playfully. “Fine, fine before you tickle it out of me.” He laughed as he grabbed my hands and interlaced his fingers with mine. “I may have already bought a ring. Eva helped me. I’m shocked she kept it a secret this long.” I felt my heart pound with excitement, a smile forming on my lips. “Try and act surprised when I propose? Ok?” He teased me. “I fucking love you, Richie. So much!” I grinned as I attacked his face with kisses. 

[theswedishpajas]

Bittersweet comfort

Bonus smile edit under cut cus we need it:

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 8:46

“Do you have dimples?”

Bakugou doesn’t understand it himself, but you always find your way back to his house after your first visit—asking these out-of-the-blue questions that seem to have no end to them. It’s like a curse has befallen him, one that follows him wherever he goes.

For a moment, his eyes snap in your direction, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, though his intense glare never once wavers. He didn’t know what the hell you were getting at, and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to even want to know why you were asking about something so random.

Honestly, he should be used to it by now. But the thing is, he isn’t, because sooner or later you’ll be popping out of nowhere with another of your pointless questions.

“Hah?”

“I asked, do you have dimples?” you repeated.

His eye twitches at the repeated question, and as much as he’d like to give you a snappy remark to get you to stop, he can’t seem to come up with one. So, for the time being, he decides to humor you (and hope for the best that you drop it and move onto another topic).

“Why the hell are you asking?”

“Because Kaminari and I made a bet whether you have dimples or not. I went with yes, you do have them—even if it’s a singular dimple, but Kaminari says otherwise,” you explained, tapping your finger softly against the coffee table.

He scoffs at the childish reason. “And what makes you think I do have one?”

“A hunch,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “I also have just one.” You smiled, showing off your obvious singular dimple on your right cheek.

Bakugou glances at your dimple for a brief moment, eyes scanning over your face and the way that the dimple seemed to perfectly dip into the soft skin of your cheek. He almost found himself entranced for a moment, but his gaze returned to your eyes as he huffed out in mock disinterest.

He was about to dismiss your hunch—maybe just flat-out refuse to even show you—or come up with a lie. But Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t a liar.

“What happens if you win the bet?”

“I get 3000 yen,” you answered.

That’s a lot, he thought.

“I can pay you 3000 yen to shut the fuck up and stop with the useless questions.”

“There’s no fun in that!”

He scoffs again as he leans back against the sofa, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at your stupidity. He eyed you for a moment, his head tilting to the side as he sighed. “And what happens if you lose the bet?”

“He gets 3000 yen.”

Bakugou almost wanted to laugh at the fact that you were putting so much faith and money on a simple guess, but he managed to hold back on the amused expression and forced himself to remain calm and unbothered.

He leaned back a bit more, relaxing against the plush seats, letting out a mocking “tch” before he said, “What if I don’t show you if I have a damn dimple or not?”

“Please? Oh my god, Bakugou. Don’t do this to me now! Kaminari’s going to do a ‘victory dance’ when he finds out he won by default,” you half-whined.

He was about to give you his final choice when suddenly you started whining at him. Bakugou rose an eyebrow at you, lips quirking to a frown. As idiotic as it is to him, it looks like it was quite a serious matter to you.

“Tch. Whatever.”

You threw your hands to your face, groaning. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top? Spare me some sympathy—and be a team player for once!”

He found himself fighting a scowl at the way you acted. It was somewhat different this time around, and it was making him feel weird. Damn it. You’re a goddamn nuisance.

“Alright, fine. Just—” He motioned with his hand for you to come closer, an almost annoyed expression on his face. “If you tell anyone else about this other than Dunce Face, I’ll make sure you don’t ever see the next sunrise.”

“That doesn’t sound heroic at all—but yes, of course!” you cheered. “Just a little smile, and I shall confirm the goods.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, already regretting giving into your stupid request but at the same time knowing that he would never let Kaminari win against you in all circumstances possible.

He let out a huff and hesitantly let the sides of his own lips quirk up into a half-assed attempt at a smile, but from the way it was so rigid, it looked more like a painful grimace.

You gave him a confused, somewhat flat look in return. “Dude, you look like you’re about to shit yourself—mmph! ” You didn’t get to finish what you were saying as Bakugou’s palms immediately squished your cheeks together to shut you up.

“Oh shut it, dipshit,” Bakugou grumbled, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly as he forced you to pout your lips. “You were asking for a smile. I give one, and you wanna give me smart ass remarks about it?”

“I didn’ even gwet toh shee anythin’! That’s how bwad ith was,” you muffled out through pouty lips.

“Are you gonna keep yapping and bitching about what you asked for, or are you gonna accept my goddamn smile?”

“Fine, fine!” you yielded, pushung his hands away from your face. “Do it one more time, and I’ll actually check this time.”

He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he were wondering if you were going to actually do as you said or go against it and keep making smart-ass comments. But as you yielded, he let out a sigh and decided he’d rather just get this done and over with. 

Less hassle for him.

He repeated his ‘smile’ from before, which looked more like a forced sneer, and he waited for your verdict. This was his last straw; he was going to murder you (not).

You had to hold back your laughter but failed to do so. “I really can’t— Bakugou, please! ” you mused, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Your ‘smile’ reminds me of that time Kirishima had to hold the biggest shit before the bell rings.”

That caught Bakugou off guard. He remembered the memory of Kirishima’s panicked expression and the weird waddle he’d walked around in as he desperately tried to find a bathroom made Bakugou snort under his breath.

“Oh my god, you’re laughing!” you gawked. “And have a dimple! Just a singular one, like mine! We’re matching.”

There it was. A singular dimple on his left cheek.

Bakugou tried to regain his lost composure and let out a scoff in an attempt to mask the slight tint of pink that reached the tip of his ears. He forced his hand onto your face, shoving you (lightly, if he may add) away from him to prevent you from getting another look at his dimple.

“It’s not a worldwide discovery, dumbass. I can fucking laugh if I want to, and it’s just a fucking indent on the cheek.”

“Still cute,” you shrugged, pulling up your phone to text Kaminari. “I need to let Kami know that I won the bet, then we celebrate with bubble tea— my treat!”

“Hey wait— You—“

He tried to protest against your sudden celebration, wanting to tell you that he wasn’t going to let you treat him for anything. This whole damn thing started because of a stupid bet, and he doesn’t really find joy in gaining something from it, but as you pulled out your phone and began to text Kaminari, he sighed and leaned back again with his arms crossed tight against his chest.

“Whatever. You’re fucking annoying.”

“Kay,” you answered. “Also, your actual smile is pretty charming, if you ask me. It’s different from the usual sneer you have on your face. That’s just my opinion, though.”

Bakugou’s face grew a bit warm at your unexpected compliment, but he quickly tried to hide it and turned his head to avert his gaze away from you. His mouth opened to reply with a snappy remark or something like that, but he found himself hesitating.

He eventually scoffed and muttered a low, “Tch. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Bakugou Katsuki has a singular dimple,” you sing-songed aloud, though you knew that no one would hear since his parents weren’t even home.

Bakugou felt his eyes twitch at your teasing, resisting the urge to tell you off and even going as far as to just punch your shoulder lightly. “Shut the fuck up, dipshit.”

He later found out that there was no bet, and you had just made up the whole scenario to confirm your curiosity. That Bakugou Katsuki does have a dimple, a singular one at that.

Could you imagine how furious he was?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.

[hoshigray]

hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

THUD!

“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”

The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.

“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?” 

If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!

His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more. 

This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.

He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.

You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions. 

However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake. 

You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?

You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”

The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”

“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”

“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”

“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”

You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”

He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.

You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”

Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.

He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.