#but also allow something gentle on the sidelines...

[ang3ltine]

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 ⋆.˚ 𓇼 Bob Reynolds fic

A get away from the city turns into something more special when the boy you had been crushing on, finally confesses.

a.n - sorry guys I've been in a slump lately due irl issues, but this fic is kind of self-indulgence, but I hope you enjoy <3

Summer. The time for reminiscing, warm weather, hanging out with friends and family. It's a season that you never fully understood the concept of.

Yet all of that was about to change.

It all started with a little convincing from Valentina to allow you all to spend the summer in the outhouse in South Carolina. Surprisingly, this was Buckys idea. He knew that a well deserved break was needed, especially after the whole sentry incident.

So it was decided.

Lulworth Cove, a quaint little town with lovely little shops and restaurants, and at the outermost corner of the shores, was the outhouse.

A beach house with pale wooden beams that had long been used. Almost as if it had been waiting for curious guests to enter. Perfect for a getaway from the busy city life of New York.

"God this place needs some work huh?" John mumbled while carefully pushing one of the wooden beams at the entrance. It was clearly rotting and almost falling apart and to confirm his hunch, a loose pieces of bark fell ontop of Ava's head.

John almost immediately regrets his decision and was about to apologise. Let's just say he didn't leave with just a slap on the wrist.

A few weeks went by, and almost everyone had already settled into their new home away from home. They were also surprised to see you having fun too, considering you don't usually open up as often as you do.

Yelena and Ava appreciated you hanging out with them, especially when taking long walks on the beach or even when learning how to surf. Ava was actually pretty good at it despite Yelena's doubts.

Sometimes, the three of you would do special 'girl nights' where boys were explicitly not invited. With the exception of Bob since none of you could really say no to him, especially since he's so clingy.

So there you all were, sprawled out on towels ontop of the soft white sandy beach. A massive sandcastle was in the making. However, it was mostly you, Yelena and Bob that helped. Ava only gave her opinions and gave pointers from the sidelines.

You then realised it was lacking quite a bit as you scanned the masterpiece in front of you. "I reckon we need more seashells."

With a few hums of approval from the group, you got up and walked farther away towards the ocean. The waves were calm this evening, soothing and gentle, with little to no disturbance. You let your feet settle in the warm waters, relinquishing the tranquil feeling while looking for the seashells below.

Bob had been observing from afar, which inevitably caught the girls attention. They were rather amused from his behaviour because he was clearly smitten. It was obvious to them and the rest of the team that Bob had a strong attachment to you.

Even after giving each other yearning looks across the room or taking naps together on the hammock outside, the two of you still denied being a 'couple'.

Later on in the evening, they were going to have a small bonfire party, Ava and Yelena had already talked to him about their plan. But it was better to remind him again just in case he had forgotten.

Yelena was firm yet reassuring when speaking with Bob, making sure he was ready for the night ahead of them. "Bob, listen to me. Tonight is your chance, alright? I don't want to see you loitering near the tables with us when you should be with her."

Bob was quiet for a moment before talking, a noticeable shift to worry evident in his voice. "But...what if I'm wrong? I... I don't want to ruin things between us if I am-"

Yelena interjects before Bob could say another word, already sensing that he'd ramble on about him not being worthy for you. "Bob you're being ridiculous. She's been giving you the same signals for months! I'm sure she feels the same way about you."

Ava had been listening from aside and offered some advice for him too. "I agree. You should at least try making a move tonight. It doesn't have to be a confession. Just give her a hint that you like her, and I'm sure things will hit off from there."

Bob talk a deep breath and exhaled before nodding. He was ofcourse nervous but it soon dissipated once you returned with the seashells in hand. You bent down to where he was to place some on the side of the castle to create tiny windows.

As you do so, Bob takes leisure in taking some shells for himself when you offer it to him. Earning a shy smile from him before politely thanking you. You were awfully close to him now, the faint scent of your coconut flower perfume filled his senses. It was...comforting.

Along with salty marine accords and musk intertwine, creating a soothing, nostalgic aroma that reminded him of the cherished memories he shared with you.

Unintentionally, he then bumps his shoulder against yours in order to place more shells in the same area you were targeting. It didn't bother you, so you stayed put, despite knowing that it wasn't necessary to stick with just this one particular side of the castle.

He wanted to bask in more of your presence before being interrupted by the girls. Yelena was already packing up while Ava had already done so, carrying her things in one hand while the other rested on her hip. "Sorry to ruin the fun, but it's getting dark. We should get ready for the bonfire."

Bob reluctantly gets up and dusted his clothes to get rid of excess sand. He didn't really like showing off his body so he wore the blue and white striped polo that was gifted by you, paired with some shorts so he could play in the water easily. There was even a little dolphin at the front which he loved.

It was oddly quiet in the house as everyone was getting ready for the upcoming party. John had taken you into town to buy more essentials for the bonfire as well as food for the barbecue, while the rest stayed home.

Bob was more than disappointed when he found out you had left without him, but he had other things to worry about. Especially when Yelena and Ava had progressed to another step in their plan, such as 'preparing' Bob for the occasion.

Speaking of the 'party', you had suggested it. When you were younger, your family would have midsummer parties almost every year. This time, you wanted to spend it with your new family. It had quite a long time since you last enjoyed such an occasion, so you were more than excited.

"Hey guys we're back!"

John walk in the kitchen, paper bags in hand full of groceries with you following close behind. John had already placed his bags on the countertop and was waiting for you to aswell, only you didn't.

You had stopped dead in your tracks when you spotted the familiar brunette standing near the bar area, chugged a glass of water. His sleeves were rolled up completely to expose his toned arms while his white shirt was practically see-through due to being drenched in what you assumed was sweat.

Unbeknownst to him, he hadn't even noticed you shamelessly staring at him before Yelena points it out. It was almost comical the way he just casually puts his hand up to say 'hi' with an innocent grin on his face while you slowly die of embarrassment.

Bob was already walking towards you before you had the chance to speak, offering to gelp with the groceries. "Do you need help with that?"

After putting down the bags, Yelena checks them to see if you bought all the necessities. "Oh wow you got everything! Did anything interesting happen while you were out?"

"Uhh no, nothing much. Unless you count John haggling with one of the store clerks 'eventful.'"

John was going to protest but eventually leaves it be, figuring there was no point in arguing since you were telling the truth.

Whereas Bob felt that his hair was getting in the way. So he runs his fingers through the damp locks and pushes it away from his eyes and just like that, you were done for. Suddenly you felt faint and it was getting hard to breathe, not to mention you heart was practically beating against your chest in an ungodly manner.

Yelena walks over to you, wrapped one arm around your should while the other, gestures to where Bob was standing. "Bob was helping us collect wood for the bonfire! He worked pretty hard actually...as you can see."

"Feeling a little hot are we?" Ava asked nonchalantly while giving you a smug look. You silently curse her in your head as you try to figure out a logical, appropriate answer. "Uhh yeah, probably feeling a little tense from the shopping spree."

"Hmmm right. I thought you said it was 'uneventful?" Yelena adds in with an amused tone, unapologetically enjoying the reaction she was getting out of you.

God, curse them both.

Bob grew slightly concerned while you silently excused yourself after escaping from Yelena's grasp. He the urge to go after you but then thought it was best to leave you alone for a bit.

There was still time before the party so you all gathered in the living room. Bucky, John and Alexei was outside preparing the bonfire while the rest of you stayed inside.

"котик you can't be serious!" Yelena keened over in a fit of laughter as you make small adjustments to your suit. It wasn't that your new outfit looked ridiculous, it was the fact that you took inspiration from Silver the hedgehog. Rolling your eyes playfully at her comment, you press back in defence.

"What?! It's not like he had an outfit to begin with. Besides, I only copied his gloves." In truth, you did love the character design as a whole, but you weren't going to admit that to her.

Speaking of opinions, Bob felt like he should voice his since he was, in fact, resting his head on your lap. " I think it looks great!"

"See? Even Bob agrees."

Yelena was about to interject after seeing the grin of satisfaction on your face while you highfived the brunette beneath you. Only for someone else to disagree to ruin the mood.

"I don't really like it either."

The voice was gruff, and oddly familiar. The four of you turned your attention towards the ex militant now present in the room. John Walker.

"With that fucked up shield of yours? I suggest you don't talk walker." You snorted after nodding your head towards the bent hunk of metal attached to his arm.

The roar of laughter filled the room but this time Ava and Bob joined in while John was seething with both shame and anger. "Says the one with a poster of Equestria Girls in their bedroom!"

Bob almost fell onto the floor since you got up abruptly to face the dirty blonde, who was jutting his chin out mockingly. Bob scrambled on his feet to join you by your side just in case you things go south.

"Listen John, I'm not going to fuel your ego so you can just back off." Every word your uttered was laced with sarcasm.

"Yeah! Didn't you also watch it with us one time in the cinema room?" Bob joins in to help you out, his brows furrowed as he spoke. Although you didn't really need it, you appreciated the gesture.

"Oh wow, what're you going to say now John?" John shifted on his feet while rubbing his temples, silently cursing the brunette in his mind. "Okay in my defence it was a pretty shitty movie, and secondly. Bob's your boyfriend. Ofcourse it makes sense for him to back you up."

You wanted to retort about the comment of Bob being your 'boyfriend' but just let him do his thing. Not wanting to make matters worse. Bob who was behind you, was now taking a step forward towards John with an innocent, yet almost menacing grin.

"I would take offence to that," he starts off then shrugs his shoulders with pursed lips. "But I can't take that bent out of shape tacco shield of yours seriously."

John was at a loss for words as he turned to you for some answers. You bit back a smile since you knew that Bob was capable of saying out of pocket comments just like this one at times.

"Then fix it! You're the one who did it!" John yelled, his calm demeanour finally dissipating. Yet nothing could've prepared him for what Bob was about to say next.

"Mm I don't think I will." You had to put an arm infront of him just in case, since he was practically looming over the guy. "It suits that dickish personality of yours."

Now that got you speechless as your jaw opens in disbelief before turning back to John, who had the same exact reaction.

"Ohh you want ice for that burn walker?!" Yelena retorts from her beanbag, a smug look on her face while Ava was practically dying next to her. John's reaction was more than amusing for the four of you.

He had enough and left the room in defeat before turning around to give one last sign. "Fuck off!" You knew that he had to blow off some steam, so you opted to talk to him later to even things out.

Besides, there were more pressing matters to deal with. Like getting ready for the party at 10pm. You parted ways with Bob and asked him to get ready. Both Yelena and Ava had gotten ready but you still needed help, so they came as soon as you called.

Yelena was the first to knock at your room door while Ava arrived shortly after. They heard the sound of shuffling before it opened to reveal your dishevelled appearance. It was clear that you were distressed, but Yelena was reluctant to ask you why. So Ava answers for her instead.

"Woah what happened??"

You huffed while searching through your messy closet in a hurry. "I can't find anything decent to wear!"

"Seriously? That's why your whole room looks like a zoo? моя кукла (doll) just wear anything! Were all friends here, it's not like anyone is going to judge."

It was no use. You were still picking out different clothes from the closet. So both Yelena and Ava took a seat on your bed while you showed them one fit that you thought would look best for the occasion. "This looks alright! Doesn't it...?"

Yelena didn't want you to worry even more, so she agreed pretty much straight away. "You know what? You look great! Besides, Bob doesn't really care what you look like. He loves you either way."

You must have misheard her because there was no way you believed that Bob actually liked you, jaw dropping slightly from disbelief. "Excuse me, what??"

Yelena sighs while rubbing the side of her templs before speaking. "Oh please you heard me. Bob's been stuck by your side all summer! It's obvious that he's head over heels in love with you."

Now that she mentioned it, you couldn't really deny the accusations. It's true that Bob had been pretty much glued to you since your first day joining the group. But more so than ever from the start of the summer get away.

Yelena felt like she successfully got her point across when she saw the way your cheeks were dusted with a faint hue of red. You then walked over where she was and took a seat next to her, turning your head slightly to look at her hesitantly. "And if you're wrong? I don't want to ruin what he already have 'lena..."

"Trust us, Bob definitely has a thing for you. We wouldn't be talking to you if we didn't know it was true." Ava says while giving you a reassuring smile. You let out a ridged sigh and slumped your shoulders. "Fine. I'll ask him tonight. But you guys aren't allowed to snoop alright??"

Yelena bites back a smile and nods hurriedly while Ava rolls her eyes playfully. "Were not going to, but, no promises."

Now that you had your outfit on, it was time for the makeup. Ava was quite skillful with her make-up skills so you asked her to help you. Except while doing so, she was giving you advice on how to approach Bob since she had some experiences from her previous relationships.

"Okay now that's a bit much." You briskly say while moving Ava's hand out the way when she almost pokes your eye with the brush. She mutters a quick sorry before Yelena carried on with exaggerated hand gestures.

"He didn't even deny that he wasn't your boyfriend today! Isn't that enough proof for you?"

"I agree. Also you didn't deny it either." Ava interjects calmly while applying some blush on your cheeks. You internally groaned at the sheer persistence from the two girls.

"Also remember to keep it pg."

Your cheeks grew warmer at Ava's insinuation and gave her a light smack on the arm while scoffing. "Ava--! Seriously?"

While you guys were getting ready, the boys were waiting outside rather impatiently. Bucky was already making his way down the beach, while Alexei, Bob, and John stuck it out. When you finally walk out the front door to meet up with them, they were rather surprised to see what you all were wearing.

Since the theme of midsummer was to do with flowers this year, you all wore simple flowy dresses with your signature colours. Purple, yellow, and blue. There were also single hibiscus flowers in the hair too which added a nice touch.

Ava, being the quite fashionable one in the team, came up with the idea.

"Oh uh -- you look really pretty love." Bob stutters slightly while he drinks in your appearance. Which was very out of character for him, even catching Ava offguard. She has to bring that up later whenever she wanted to tease you about Bob.

You should be used to the given nickname, yet you still found your heart racing everytime you hear it. Nonetheless, you give him a grateful smile and thankes him for the complement. Bob also couldn't help but feel himself swoon whenever you gave him that smile of yours.

Night fell swiftly, bringing with it a chill that seeped into the bones and a quiet that felt almost tangible. Everyone had gathered near the far end of the beach to avoid other groups who also wanted to take a stroll with their friends.

You were carrying some of the firewood, but it was soon taken away from your arms. "Ah - Here let me help."

Bob, being the sweet man that he was, didn't want you to work so hard when you had been running around all day organising the party. You thank him with much appreciation which he took no credit for, saying that it was nothing.

"Ohh girls, you're finally here! Alexei was going to start without you!"

Alexei was waving his arms dramatically with nothing but his shorts on. Yelena facepalmed yet again that day and groaned at the sight of his appearance. "Seriously dad? You're wearing the Russian flag?"

He was about to protest before being interrupted by Bucky in order to stop a full on argument between the two. "Thanks for bringing more firewood. I was just about to go back to get some more since it looks we'll need it."

"Oh I shouldn't really take the credit, it was actually their idea." Bob nods his head towards your direction. You was already taking a seat on one of the logs in the sand when Bucky turned to you to give you a quick thank you.

It was well past midnight, which was the perfect time to tell ghost stories. While Alexei, on the other hand, would talk about his glory days as the red guardian. Yelena had to stop him at some point since everyone was gradually becoming bored.

At one point John suggested that they start up the fireworks. Bob was rather reluctant despite some coercion by John, yet none of you pushed him. It was understandable that he'd be wary with these kind of activities. Thats when you suggested that he should look from afar and cover his ears with his hands, which he appreciated greatly.

So you slip your hands into his and walk with him farther away from the group towards a looming palm tree. You knew Bob must've been nervous from how clammy his palms were but it didn't bother you. Instead you try to reassure him that everything would be fine and that it was safe.

What you didn't know was that he was nervous because of you. Almost the whole night he had been stealing glances at you from across the small bonfire, quietly observing that way you'd idly talk with the others with such confidence and reverie.

Bucky had noticed the pair giving eachother lovesick gazes for about half an hour before deciding to share some 'dating advice' to Bob. Ofcourse his advice was a little dated but Bob still took every word he said seriously.

Evidently so, he puts his words into action when you volunteer to go with him to watch the fireworks from afar. The pair was sitting on a swing with a wooden seat, most likely handcrafted, while Bob's hand was still holding yours.

Neither of you even had the thought of letting go, so your fingers stay entangled with his. Occasionally squeezing it gently from time to time as you rock back and forth on the swing.

"You know...I'm really proud of you. It's not easy coming clean and learning to accept those around you." You say in a comforting tone and reach out to tuck his hair behind his ear. He instinctively leaned into your touch when your hand rest on his cheek, letting your thumb run across his warm skin.

"Yeah well...I wasn't on my own this time." His voice was barely a whisper as the sound of the fireworks go off in the distant, now becoming background noise. Suddenly, the air between you two grew thick with anticipation.

You hadn't realised how close you really were to him until the tip of your nose bumped his. Space was becoming scarce as Bob struggled to let out a coherent sentence. It was an innocent mistake, yet you didn't have the urgency to move away just yet.

Alas, the moment was ruined when a loud bang interrupted you both. Bob quickly covers his ears to block out the noise while you stood up to shout at Alexei for using one of the bigger fireworks.

"Alexei I told you to use the normal ones! Not your jumbo guardian themed one!!"

Alexei yells an apology and simultaneously gets scolded by Yelena and John for not listening to them. Bob was still covering his ears with his eyes shut tight, unaware that the fireworks was over for now. You say back down again and gently moved his hands away so that he wouldn't get startled.

"Bob hon', are you ok?" Its alright, Alexei's getting a good scolding from the others." You mused, trying to lighten the mood. It might have worked because as soon as you spoke of Alexei getting told off, you see the ends of his lips turn upwards into his usual puppy like grin.

Your hands were still in his while you slowly draw small patterns on his palms. The action was simple but meaningful. You'd do this to usually calm Bob down if he was ever upset or if something or someone, had triggered him. Bob was more than grateful when you took the initiative even though he didn't ask you to do so.

"Hey I uhm...I should really thank you." Bob's voice was barely a whisper but you heard him nonetheless. You hummed while still tracing patterns on his warm skin, then you peer up at him through your lashes.

"There's no need to thank me, bedsides - the others would do the same as me if they got the chance. Like Yelena."

There was no arguing there, sometimes Yelena did go to him to keep him company if you weren't available. Except, in this occasion, Bob wanted to solely focus on you and show his gratitude.

You felt him staring but you chose not to think much of it. Bob's cheeks had a slight hue of red when you did manage to look back up at him again, bringing a small smile to your face at his bashfullness. "Hm? Is there something you wanna tell me?"

It was rather teasing question but Bob was ready to indulge. You noted the way his adam apple bobbed when gulping. Once again, it was beginning to get hard for him to speak.

"Yeah uhm-- yeah I do actually... its uh-"

You bit your lip to contain your laughter due to the cuteness of his stammering. Bob had caught on and stopped himself from talking, and then smiled himself. Realising how much comfort you were bringing.

"No...I get it."

Bob was now impossibly close, completely ignoring the fact that the group was watching from their spot. It was rather sweet, the way he leaned in close to gently nuzzle his nose with yours. It was a silent plea for you to take this as a sign. "Please..."

With that, you close the distance between you both. Your mouth connected with his, Bob found himself in complete shock. Lost in a world of pure happiness and blissful pleasure, the taste of your lips on his made him feel overly giddy.

His lips like what you imagined, slightly chapped but still soft and pillowy. There was the faint reminent of hot chocolate residue on his bottom lip, causing you to grab hold of his hoodie and keep him in place as the kiss became more profound and more passionate with every minute.

Your bodies and minds becoming one, creating a sense of safety and belonging.

As they held the kiss, their lips burned, and it only encouraged them to continue further. You moved your arms back around his neck, deepening the kiss. His tongue grazed her lips, causing you to shiver. A rather bold move you'd say, considering that this was his first kiss in a while.

For a brief moment, you realised that this was inappropriate, wrong. But you did not stop, instead initiating another deep kiss, tongue grazing his lips this time.

Pure passion taking over them, they sat there kissing without want or need for precious oxygen. By the time that they were so short on breath that they would faint, they pulled apart from one another.

Bob was still chasing after your lips while you laughed softly, blocking his mouth playfully with your hand. "I'm guessing this was what you wanted to talk about?"

Bob couldn't really answer so he nodded rather sheepishly, his cheeks still flushed. You finally remove your hand and let him speak.

"I…" he stammered between gasps; his entire body's heat had risen to the point that he had to undo his hoodie to get cooler.

You may have overdone the kiss so you thought it was best to apologise just in case you took it too far, your own cheeks becoming warm from shame. "Sorry..."

Bob didn't speak and just placed his hand on your shoulder for more support. "I… Don't worry about it." He mumbled, then dips his head low to press one last sweet kiss on your lips before pulling away.

"Besides! I quite enjoyed it heh."

Bonus:

"Okay pay up." Ava says triumphantly while sticking her hand out so that John and Alexei would reluctantly give her two $40 bills.

The group had taken a bet whether or not Bob would make a move tonight, so both Ava and Yelena hit the jackpot. Even Bucky wagered, earning himself $20 too.

"Damn it - I had no idea Bob had it in him."

Taglist:

@doodlebob-mp3 @perdidosbucky-yyo @marianastudiesart @ordelixx @starktonyx @hisredheadedgoddess28 @avatarobsessedgirly @starstruckfirecat @adventure-awaits13 @milkbean69 @fire-joestar @midniqhtt

[cece693]

Hey! I really like your writing. And I especially enjoyed your Hannibal and Will Graham fics and latest about stucky x reader. If I can request something with will x hannibal x reader? Gn or male whatever you feel more up to. I would love to hear your original ideas for pairing, but if you'd rather have a concept to start from. I thought about Will having a good friend before canon working in buro. Both having crush on each other, but Will wasn't quite ready to start relationship. Enter Hannibal and his attempts to get Will out of his shell. First thinking reader to be a hindrance for his plan to ensnare Will, but later discovering that they're mesmerizing on their own.

I hope it's not too much to ask. Thank you. I love both good poly and mlm headcanons. There's totally should be more of them and I am glad to see your delightful contribution. 💛✨

Oh, this idea just gave me a bunch of other ideas. Like what if instead of will and the reader having feelings for one another, it was a combined effort from the murder husbands (after the doctor consumed will's thoughts and affections) that finally made you get into a relationship with both. Perhaps will has feelings for you (one sided) as he struggles to find a clutch to normality when his mental state deteriorates, and Hannibal exploits this—making will take action but also try to squeeze himself into that picture. And you, while spending time with hannibal and will, are conditioned to return their affections (like we saw hannibal do to will through touches and understanding.) Ahhh, the possibilities are endless.

You, Me and Him

pairing: murder husbands x male reader tags: you don't like will or hannibal (romantically), but the murder husbands have a way of convincing you otherwise, heavy manipulation, will falls first, hannibal falls second, you are blind, ignoring obvious red flags, but it's will and hannibal so...

Will Graham had never been the best at deciphering his own heart. That was the ironic truth of a man whose empathy allowed him to unravel the psyches of murderers. Yet when it came to you, the one person he viewed as a tether to normalcy, every feeling became painfully tangled. He needed you close—needed your steadiness, your uncomplicated presence—to keep his head above water when the horrors of his job threatened to devour him. But you were a friend, so clearly uninterested in him romantically (much less men in general, Will believed) that he kept his longing chained behind carefully guarded walls. For a long time, watching from the sidelines, enjoying your companionship in even the smallest measures, was enough.

When he stepped into Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s office for therapy, his conflicting emotions became one of many topics he reluctantly confided. At first, Will was hesitant to talk about you. He loathed the idea of Hannibal’s clinical eyes dissecting the one pure comfort in his life. But Hannibal had a way of drawing secrets out as though they were confessions whispered in the dark—gentle, unassuming, yet invasive all the same.

From their first sessions, Hannibal gleaned that Will’s focus on you had reached near-obsessive levels. Whenever your name came up, Will’s eyes lit with equal parts tenderness and desperation. The doctor took it all in. He listened, encouraged, dissected Will’s words with calm curiosity. Whenever Will voiced his fear that his longing for you could drive him off the edge, Hannibal consoled him: “It isn’t a crime to desire closeness, Will,” he would say, voice low and soothing. “If anything, a connection to someone good might ground you. Keep you from unraveling.”

And as Will flinched under the weight of his guilt—he wanted you, but he felt wrong for it—Hannibal delivered subtle reassurances: “Why deny yourself a chance at happiness? You are no monster for wishing to be near him.”

Over time, Hannibal made a space for himself in Will’s life. The patient-doctor relationship merged into a twisted friendship, with Hannibal stepping further and further into Will’s personal sphere. Will was slow to grasp the transformation, perceiving Hannibal’s presence as comforting at first. Someone who understood him deeply, without flinching from the darkness within.

As Hannibal’s influence grew, so did his interest in you. Your involvement with Will—your genuine, unjaded nature—captured Hannibal’s attention. It wasn’t long before he decided he wanted you, too, if only to keep Will’s new bond firmly intact. The idea of shaping your perception—of orchestrating a scenario where the three of you formed an exclusive, unbreakable circle—was alluring.

He carefully watched the interactions between you and Will, noting each time your eyes flickered with concern for Will’s mental state. Each time you offered him a patient smile or a comforting word. In Hannibal’s mind, you were both prime for gentle, consistent manipulation—Will, desperate for your acceptance, and you, yearning to maintain his well-being without suspecting the deeper motives beneath your kindness.

Hannibal began planting seeds during casual dinners. He’d invite you over, always ensuring Will was present, then guide the conversation: “I see such relief in Will when you’re around,” Hannibal would say, touching on your care for Will’s shaky mental state. You, flattered and a bit concerned, would look to Will—who merely wore a half-smile, eyes shadowed but hopeful. These moments didn’t feel unnatural—Hannibal excelled at making them seem perfectly ordinary. Yet each small gesture and pointed remark primed you for what would follow.

Meanwhile, Will was unraveling under Hannibal’s subtle coaxing. He spent nights twisting and turning in his sheets, dreaming of you standing in the sunlight of his dilapidated front porch, the only bright thing in his life. He hated the ache that throbbed in his chest whenever you weren’t near. Hated how, beneath that longing, lived an unsettling willingness to do almost anything to keep you from leaving him behind. Hannibal noticed. And time and time again, he whispered that it was only natural—only right—to keep close what one cherished. Why shouldn’t Will stake a claim on the happiness he deserved?

So it happened one evening after you helped Will through a particularly vicious nightmare. You’d come by late, responding to his shaky phone call. You found him hunched on the edge of his bed, cold sweat on his brow, terror in his eyes. You soothed him as best you could, offering words of comfort and an embrace that felt wholly innocent to you.

But to Will, it was everything.

As you tucked the blanket around him, whispering that it was going to be okay, he lifted his gaze, tears lining his eyes. You’d never seen him so raw, so open—an unspoken plea shining on his face. Before you could question the emotion behind his stare, Will leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.

You froze. That moment stretched, your mind racing in startled confusion. You’d never considered that Will might want you in that way. You stayed tense, uncertain, before you gently pulled back. Will’s eyes flashed with immediate regret, anguish coloring his cheeks crimson. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I—I didn’t mean—” But he did mean it. You could see it plainly. He meant every second of it.

You managed a quiet, shaky reassurance, “It’s…it’s okay,” even though you felt the distant echo of something too big to process, a boundary abruptly torn open. Will’s need, so potent, made the air feel oppressive. Confused and reeling, you left with a promise to text him later—an effort to keep things calm, to not break him further.

Hannibal found out about Will’s impulsive kiss—Will couldn’t hide it, not with the guilt and mixed desperation etched on his face. Yet the doctor didn’t scold him. Instead, Hannibal allowed a knowing look to pass between them. He recognized this was precisely the kind of bold step that would push you closer to their collective snare.

In the following days, Hannibal carefully orchestrated his own moment. He sensed your unease—your confusion about what had happened with Will—so he extended an invitation for “conversation and clarity.” He offered his home as a safe space to untangle your worries. You accepted, too relieved to have a calm voice of reason to notice the mild triumphant glint in his eyes.

Inside Hannibal’s tastefully refined dining room, you found yourself revealing the tension you’d been carrying since that night. How you felt torn between concern for Will and your own ambivalence—perhaps even fear. Hannibal listened, nodding, never once shaming you for your uncertainty.

When your breathing became shallow and eyes misted with tears you didn’t know were there, Hannibal placed a hand over yours on the table. His voice dropped to that gentle register you’d come to associate with absolute safety. “You care for Will deeply,” he intoned, letting his fingers lightly trace your knuckles. “And that’s admirable. But do not discount the possibility that your affections run deeper than you realize.”

“But I—I’m not…” you began, stumbling over the words.

Hannibal smiled then—self-assured, not smug—before he rose from his seat to stand behind you. He reached out, guiding you to stand as well. You followed, both unsettled and lulled by his presence. With careful gentleness, he turned you to face him. “There is no shame,” he said softly, voice thick with something that made your heartbeat stumble, “in discovering new paths of desire.”

You opened your mouth to protest or respond or something. But Hannibal’s palm slid along your jaw, tipping your face up just enough for him to lean in and press a deliberate, lingering kiss to your lips—quieter, more controlled than Will’s had been, yet just as fierce in its own way. Your body tensed again, mind whirling with confusion. The combined weight of Will’s unexpected confession and Hannibal’s assured advance threatened to overwhelm you.

When he pulled back, Hannibal kept his hand on the curve of your jaw, scanning your expression as though memorizing every flicker of emotion. The world felt dizzyingly narrow, your pulse pounding in your ears. A hundred protests died on your tongue because beneath your shock, something about Hannibal’s closeness felt safe, even if you couldn’t explain why.

From that day forward, there was no denying it. Both Will and Hannibal wanted you in a way that went beyond mere friendship. Their dynamic, once centered on doctor-patient formality, now pulsed with an undercurrent of shared intention. They had found common ground—you.

Through hesitant text messages and quiet, orchestrated meetings, you found yourself toggling between Will’s fragile urgency and Hannibal’s guiding confidence. You noticed how Will’s eyes filled with a desperate hope whenever you walked into a room, or how he’d hover near you, afraid to overstep but unable to pull away. How Hannibal’s hand casually came to rest on your arm or shoulder, an anchoring gesture that left your thoughts in disarray. You were never alone long enough to piece together how deliberately they’d closed in around you.

Confusion gnawed at you; you’d never before felt anything resembling romantic desire for men, and yet their combined attention stirred something you weren’t prepared for. Part of you wanted to retreat, to breathe, to figure out who you were without their influences. But each time you tried to put distance between you and them—perhaps a few days’ break—something would happen: Will’s mental state would plummet, or Hannibal would send a carefully crafted message. You’d end up returning to them, guilt and concern driving you.

And bit by bit, their touches became as common as breathing. Their whispers of gratitude, the gentle smiles, the confessions of how precious you were to them—each act chipped away at your hesitation.

Will was the first to proclaim it in words. One night, as you helped him with an anxiety attack, he clutched your hand and said in a broken voice, “I need you. I—I don’t know what I’d do without you. Please stay.” He didn’t elaborate on what “stay” meant—stay the night, stay in his life forever—both, perhaps. The raw fear in his eyes and the ache in his voice made you feel responsible, compelled to soothe him.

Hannibal, in his quieter moments, would tell you over a shared dinner, “You are a calming harbor in a tumultuous sea,” even as his eyes glinted with an intensity that suggested something far beyond simple appreciation. “I wouldn’t see Will as he is now if it weren’t for you,” he’d add, implying a joint responsibility—one that seemed to unite you, Will, and himself.

It was a carefully orchestrated dance: you, feeling the weight of Will’s fragile psyche; Will, obsessed with maintaining your presence; and Hannibal, the puppet master pulling subtle strings, pushing you further into their shared darkness. By the time you realized the full extent of their devotion, you were already too entangled to easily escape. You found yourself flitting between a swirling confusion of your identity—were you truly opening up to their love, or were you merely shaped to believe it was inevitable?

In Hannibal’s grand design, forging a bond with Will was only half the story. With Will’s acceptance of his own darker impulses—fanned by Hannibal’s influence—the good doctor finally had a partner who could see the world more like he did, unrestrained by common morality. All that was missing from their perspective was you, an untainted counterpart they felt made them complete.

Your presence served as a reminder of normalcy that Will desperately needed, and as a new challenge that Hannibal found irresistible. When the two of them decided to claim you, it was less a spontaneous decision and more the product of Hannibal’s unwavering manipulations combined with Will’s deep-seated fixation.

They became your support system, your protectors, and, unwittingly to you, your manipulators. They smoothed over every apprehension with heartfelt declarations or a soft, well-timed touch. Each gesture was designed to break down any lingering resistance, any chance you might realize this path wasn’t your choice at all.

In the end, there was a weary sort of acceptance in your gaze. A flicker of longing for them—two men who craved you to the point of madness—and a quieter flicker of doubt that you couldn’t quite extinguish. If it ever threatened to surface, one of them would appear at your side, holding you close until that doubt dissolved under the intensity of their love and need. And that’s how you found yourself in a situation you would never have predicted: caught between Will Graham’s trembling devotion and Hannibal Lecter’s calculated passion. One man who feared losing you almost more than he feared himself, and another who viewed both you and Will as beautiful pieces in his private masterpiece.

[rootedinrevisions]

Where the Night Ends

SUMMARY: After an evening in the spotlight, Glen Powell’s biggest night of the year is more than just red carpets and bright lights—it’s a celebration of his career and a test of his resilience. Through the glamour and chaos, you’re by his side, offering him a safe space to share the highs and the inevitable disappointments. In the quiet hours after the applause fades, the two of you find strength in each other, proving that true connection shines brighter than any award.

A/N: This story was inspired by the idea for a story I've had for a while for Glen that even the most charismatic and confident people, like Glen Powell, have quieter, more vulnerable sides they don’t often show the world. While Glen’s charm and upbeat personality make him shine in the public eye, I wanted to imagine what those quiet, intimate moments might look like—the ones where he allows himself to relax and let his guard down with someone he trusts completely. And I thought tonight with the Golden Globes and him not winning would be a perfect way to explore this idea I've had. Also I don't know why but Glen low key gives me golden retriever boyfriend vibes so there's some of that in here as well!

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Your Likes, Comments, and Reblogs mean the world to me and help me continue creating stories like this one.

WARNINGS: Nudity (No Smut, just non-sexual but intimate nudity).

TAGS: In comments.

You glance at your reflection one last time, running your hands down the smooth fabric of your gown. The luxurious satin hugs your body in all the right places, the deep color shimmering subtly under the bathroom light. The rich hue perfectly complements Glen’s sharp, classic black ensemble, and you can't help but imagine how great the two of you will look together tonight. The gold accents on your bracelet catch the light with every movement, adding a hint of warmth to the otherwise cool tones of the dress. It feels like magic—elegant, understated, and yet striking in its own quiet way. The gown pools slightly at your feet, as if it were made for you.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that have settled in the pit of your stomach. This is your first time attending such an event with Glen, despite the time you’ve been together. You won’t be walking the red carpet beside him, and the idea of staying in the background, on the sidelines, makes you both excited and slightly anxious. You're not used to this kind of attention, and tonight, all eyes will be on him.

Before you can let the nerves fully settle in, you hear Glen's voice. His warm, familiar tone breaks through the quiet of the hotel room.

"Damn," he murmurs from the doorway, his voice a little breathless. "I thought the Golden Globes were supposed to be the main event tonight, but now I’m not so sure."

You turn toward him, your heart skipping a beat. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a grin, his velvet jacket catching the light. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s something in them—a mixture of admiration, affection, and something deeper.

He takes a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving yours, and wraps his arms around you from behind. His chest presses into your back, warm and solid, grounding you in the moment. His breath brushes against your ear, soft and gentle.

"You look incredible," he says, voice low and reverent, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. The warmth of his embrace settles your nerves, and the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding begins to melt away.

His presence is like a balm, soothing your anxieties. You lean back into him, the soft beat of his heart against your back comforting you. It’s a moment of quiet intimacy before the whirlwind of the night begins.

"You sure I’m not going to embarrass you in front of all those cameras?" you tease, glancing back at him with a playful smile.

Glen chuckles softly, tightening his arms around you just a little. "You couldn’t embarrass me if you tried," he murmurs, his voice steady. "Besides I think my mom and dad have the embarrassing moments covered."

You both laugh softly, but the smile that stretches across his face is real—genuine, almost vulnerable in a way that only you get to see. It’s a rare, quiet moment that makes you feel all the more certain of the love you share.

You take a deep breath, your nerves settling as you feel the warmth of his body surrounding you. His embrace is a reminder of the calm you’ve come to rely on in the chaos of this world—his, and now yours.

"Alright, I think it’s time to get going," you say softly, turning slightly to grab your coat from the chair.

Glen kisses your cheek before you both head for the door, his hand brushing yours as you step into the next phase of the night.

You and Glen step out of the hotel room, the cool air of the hallway brushing against your skin as the door clicks shut behind you. Glen’s hand finds yours almost instinctively, the familiar warmth of his touch grounding you once again. You give him a small smile, feeling the shift from the quiet intimacy of the room to the bustle of the world outside.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice warm but laced with a hint of excitement. His eyes twinkle, full of that effortless charm he seems to carry with him no matter where he goes.

"Ready as I’ll ever be," you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

The elevator ride down to the lobby is quick, but the silence between you is comfortable. Glen’s thumb brushes lightly against your hand as you both stand side by side, the sound of the elevator music almost drowned out by the rush of adrenaline you both share. Tonight is big—for him, for both of you—but in this moment, it’s just the two of you, sharing a quiet space before the chaos begins.

The elevator dings as it reaches the lobby floor, and you step out into the bright, bustling space. The lobby is abuzz with activity—people in tuxedos and gowns chatting, last-minute preparations happening all around. You spot the entrance to the event area, where a stream of reporters and photographers are lined up, their cameras ready to catch the next big arrival.

Glen’s parents, Cyndy and Glen Sr., are already waiting by the elevators, talking to a few other familiar faces. The moment they see you both, Cyndy’s warm, motherly smile lights up her face.

"There they are!" she says, walking over to give Glen a hug. "Glen, you look so handsome!"

Glen returns her embrace with a chuckle, his broad shoulders relaxing in her hug. "Thanks, Mom. You look amazing, too."

Cyndy pulls back, giving you a quick once-over with approving eyes. "And you, sweetheart, look just breathtaking."

"Thank you," you say, smiling softly, feeling a wave of warmth at her words.

Glen Sr. gives you a small nod of approval before turning his attention to the growing crowd. “Ready to go, son?” he asks, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the bright excitement in the air.

"Yeah, let’s do this," Glen replies, squeezing your hand once more before stepping forward.

As you step toward the doors, the weight of the night becomes palpable, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Glen’s hand slips from yours, but not before he gives it one last, reassuring squeeze. His gaze meets yours for a moment, his eyes soft with affection despite the flurry of activity around you.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a wave of warmth through your body. 

"Stay close to my parents," he murmurs, his voice low and steady, a mixture of affection and quiet command. "I’ll talk to you after the red carpet, okay?"

You nod, the reassurance in his words settling your nerves just slightly. His presence, even in these small moments, brings you an unexpected sense of calm. You watch as he straightens up, giving you a final, comforting smile before turning to head towards the first section of the red carpet. The flashing lights of the cameras immediately focus on him, the buzz of voices rising as they call out his name.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that tonight isn’t about the spotlight on you—it’s about being there for him, supporting him as he steps into this moment.

Before you can fully process the next rush of energy, you feel a light nudge at your elbow. Glen’s dad, with his ever-so-gracious demeanor, offers you his arm. 

"Shall we?" he asks with a warm smile, a glint of pride in his eyes as he looks toward his son, now posing for the cameras ahead.

You slip your arm through his, the two of you walking in step with Glen’s mother beside you. The hum of the red carpet fills the air, the cameras flashing in bursts like strobe lights as people call out names, photographers jockeying for the best shot. It feels surreal, watching Glen move through the chaos so effortlessly, a magnet for attention, while you remain just behind him, tucked safely in the background.

The red carpet is a world of its own—a whirlwind of lights, flashing cameras, and excited chatter. You stand a few feet behind Glen, walking with his parents as you watch him effortlessly navigate the chaos. From the moment he steps onto the carpet, he’s in his element, greeting reporters, posing for the cameras, and smiling with a confidence that seems almost innate.

He moves with such ease, each step deliberate, his velvet jacket catching the light with every turn. The photographers call out his name, the clicks of the cameras almost deafening, but Glen is unfazed. He’s a natural—tilting his head slightly, flashing that signature smile that’s made him a favorite among fans and critics alike. Each pose is perfectly executed, like he’s done this a thousand times, and yet you know it’s all real, all part of the moment.

Glen interacts with the reporters as though they’re old friends. He laughs at their jokes, asks how their evening is going, and never misses a beat. It’s impossible not to feel proud as you watch him—this man you love, who has worked so hard to get to this point in his career, now being recognized for his talents. The genuine warmth in his smile, the way he listens to each person, makes them feel like they’re the only one in the room.

You catch snippets of conversations, little flashes of Glen’s humor and grace as he talks to the interviewers. “It’s an honor just to be here with such incredible talent,” he says to one, giving a humble but genuine answer that makes the reporter smile brightly. The cameras click furiously as he poses once more, a wink in your direction as if he’s sharing a private joke with you amidst all the attention.

He walks past you briefly, pausing to stop and chat with one of the other nominees. The other actor greets him warmly, their handshake firm and friendly. Glen’s laughter rings out, the two of them talking animatedly. It’s clear they’re both enjoying the interaction, and you feel a swell of pride as you watch him effortlessly charm everyone around him.

As Glen continues walking down the carpet, interacting with other actors and actresses, you steal quick glances at him, noticing the way his eyes flicker toward you, checking in even amidst the chaos. Every so often, he pauses—just for a moment—and looks back to where you’re standing with his parents, catching your gaze in a fleeting moment of connection.

It happens once when he’s posing for a photographer. He turns just enough to meet your eyes, his smile softening, just for you. Then, as he moves toward the next group of reporters, he sends a quick wink your way—casual but filled with meaning.

As he’s walking towards the interview section, he reaches out briefly, brushing his hand against yours. It’s so subtle, so quick, but the warmth of it lingers, making your heart skip a beat. You smile to yourself, feeling like you’re the only one in the crowd who understands the quiet moments between the flashes.

Every now and then, he checks in with his parents, his dad offering a gentle nod or a pat on the back, and his mom giving him a quick hug, congratulating him on the moment. As he walks past you again, he places his hand lightly on your lower back, the touch firm but gentle, like a silent reassurance. He leans in, his voice low but carrying just enough for you to hear, “I’m almost done, I promise.” You smile softly, nodding, grateful for the little check-ins.

With each moment, you feel more in awe of him—his ability to navigate this world with such grace, his kindness, and his generosity toward everyone he meets. You’ve always known how hard he’s worked for this, but seeing him shine like this, being recognized for his talent, makes your heart swell with pride. The man standing before you, talking to the crowd, was once just a guy with a dream—and now, he’s living it.

As Glen steps off the red carpet, the flurry of flashing cameras and excited shouts start to fade away. The soft hum of conversation inside the venue fills the air, and for a brief moment, you feel like the world slows down. You catch his eye just as he spots you standing at the edge of the carpet, watching him. His smile lights up his face—genuine and warm—and your heart flutters just a little bit at the sight of it.

Without a second thought, Glen strides over to you, his presence commanding yet soft, as though the spotlight of the red carpet hasn’t followed him. He leans in, pressing a quick, simple kiss to your lips—one that might be so brief to anyone watching that they’d miss it, but to you, it feels like a promise. It’s the kind of kiss that lingers just enough to remind you that you’re still in his thoughts, even in the whirlwind of the evening.

Pulling back, Glen smiles at you, his eyes soft but intense. Without missing a beat, he reaches down and takes your hand in his, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of everything. His parents, ever gracious, follow behind as Glen begins to lead you into the venue.

As you step inside, the atmosphere changes. The venue is filled with a sea of familiar, and very recognizable, faces. A sea of stars, each more dazzling than the last. You glance around, and your nerves spike just a little—this is the world Glen belongs to, and even though you’re used to being by his side, it feels a little more overwhelming now. The glitzy chandeliers above, the hum of voices, the clicking of glasses... all of it is a far cry from the quieter, more intimate moments you’ve shared together.

Instinctively, you bring your free hand up and curl it around Glen’s arm, drawing just a little closer to him. It’s subtle, a small gesture, but it makes you feel grounded in a room full of people you don’t quite know. Glen notices immediately, his eyes flicking down to you as if checking in to see how you're holding up.

“You alright?” he murmurs under his breath, his voice low but caring.

You give him a small smile, nodding, but he can tell there’s a flicker of nervousness in your eyes. Glen squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, reassuring rhythm. 

“We’ve got this,” he says with a quiet confidence that you know is meant as much for you as it is for himself.

His smile is enough to settle your nerves, if only for a moment. You take a deep breath, and as the two of you move further into the room, the sight of the grand tables, the gleaming crystal glasses, and the fancy place settings begin to feel more familiar. Glen leads you with an easy grace, guiding you toward your assigned table with a worker who’s waiting to escort you.

The worker gestures toward your seats, and Glen holds out his hand as you approach. With a flourish, he pulls your chair out for you, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes you feel like the most important person in the room. You smile at him, grateful for his quiet care in a setting that could easily feel overwhelming.

As you sit down, Glen takes the seat beside you, his presence as steady and comforting as it has always been. He straightens his jacket and settles into his seat, and for the first time in hours, the two of you share a quiet moment, just the two of you. The world outside might be full of glamour, fame, and recognition, but here, in this little bubble you’ve found together, it’s just Glen—being the perfect gentleman, just as he always is.

The award show begins with a grand flourish. The host steps onto the stage, the lights dimming just slightly as the audience settles into their seats. You glance around, taking in the bustling room—famous actors, actresses, and directors sitting nearby, the whispers of excitement as the event officially kicks off.

Glen’s hand rests lightly on the back of your chair. The touch is small, but it anchors you in the midst of all the grandeur surrounding you. Without thinking, you lean into him just slightly, your head tipping toward his. The warmth of his body is a comfort, grounding you as the opening monologue begins.

The host captures the crowd’s attention with a series of jokes, and the sound of laughter ripples across the room. Glen smiles at the moment, but his attention is mostly on you. Every now and then, his fingers gently tap the back of your chair as if offering his quiet reassurance. You can feel his eyes on you, checking in with a glance when he thinks you’re not looking, making sure you’re comfortable in your seat.

The first few awards pass by quickly, the names of the nominees and winners announced with the usual anticipation, but you can feel the clock ticking in your mind, each passing moment heightening the tension in your chest. Glen is nominated for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture—Musical or Comedy, and the weight of the moment is starting to sink in.

You can feel your nerves rising with each passing category. With each announcement, the tightness in your chest grows as you anxiously glance down at your program, running your fingers over the pages in a distracted rhythm. Every now and then, Glen’s hand brushes against yours, either adjusting his position or offering an unspoken gesture of comfort. When his fingers meet yours, it’s as if the connection between you both is the only thing that grounds you amidst the flashing lights and the build-up.

The host’s voice rings out again, announcing the next presenters. You force yourself to take a slow breath, trying to calm the flutter of nerves that’s started to settle deep in your stomach. You can’t help but glance up at Glen, who, despite the chaos and the nerves building up inside him, is still looking at you with that same steady calmness. His eyes meet yours, soft but intense, and he gives you a small, quiet smile.

“You good?” he asks under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of the audience.

You nod, though you’re not sure if you believe it yourself. “Yeah, just a little anxious,” you admit quietly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your program.

Glen gives you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder and leans in closer. “You’re doing great,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “Remember I’m right here.”

His voice is a steady comfort, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into it, but the closer you get to the moment of the award announcement, the harder it is to ignore the nerves prickling in your chest. You try not to let it show, but it’s impossible to ignore the fact that your whole body seems to tense with every name called.

The tension is almost unbearable as the next award category is announced. You can feel your heart beating faster as the presenter walks to the podium, the lights dimming slightly on the stage as the camera pans over the audience. You glance at Glen, your hand still lightly resting on his knee, both of you anxiously waiting for the moment to unfold.

The announcer opens the envelope, a brief pause lingering in the air, and then the name is spoken.

“Sebastian Stan.”

The name hit you like a soft punch to the gut. You’d been hoping, praying that Glen’s name would be called. But it’s not.

You exhale, the breath you’d been holding escaping in a slow, almost deflated sigh as the applause fills the room. Everyone around you begins clapping, but you feel a heavy weight settle in the pit of your stomach. You try to join in, your hands moving in sync with the crowd, but it feels automatic, hollow.

Glen’s gaze shifts downward as he claps politely, a professional smile plastered on his face. The joy that had been there moments ago, when he’d been watching others celebrate, is now gone. You notice the subtle slump of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens just slightly. It’s so faint, but you see it—his disappointment, quiet and swift.

Without hesitation, you place a gentle hand on his knee, your fingers curling softly around the fabric of his suit. It’s a quiet gesture, one that says everything without words.

Leaning in closer, you whisper just for him. “I’m still so proud of you,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “This doesn’t change anything. You’ve had an incredible year.”

His eyes flicker to you for a moment, and though his smile is still warm, there’s a shadow of something behind it. He nods, as if trying to convince himself. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, voice carrying the faintest hint of regret. “It’s all right.”

The cameras still hover near your table, and Glen turns slightly, giving his trademark charm for the audience, though you can see the subtle strain in the movement. It’s a mask, and you know it.

But then, just as quickly as the moment of disappointment had settled in, he shrugs it off, the professional smile back in place. He straightens his shoulders and waves at the camera as if nothing’s wrong.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, your thumb brushing gently against the back of his hand, offering him one more piece of quiet support. “You’ve worked so hard. This is just the beginning.”

Glen looks at you, his eyes softening, and he offers a genuine, albeit faint, smile. “I know. It’s just... I’ve wanted this for so long.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and in that instant, you both share a fleeting connection—one of understanding, of being on the same page. You see past the façade, knowing the true weight of his disappointment.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of applause, speeches, and glimmering smiles, but the air feels different now. Glen seems to slip back into his polished, charming self, laughing with others and posing for photos as if nothing had happened. But you know him too well. Every now and then, when the laughter dies down or when the lights shift in a way that makes everything feel softer, you catch glimpses of that quiet vulnerability he’s tried to hide.

You continue to offer him your presence, your unwavering support. Your hand resting on the top of his hand which rests on his thigh, fingers gently tracing the skin on the back of his hand during the dull moments between awards. You don’t need to say anything—he knows you’re there. And though he’s the one in the spotlight, it’s in these moments when you share the unspoken strength that makes you feel so connected.

The show drags on, the anticipation building as the categories shift, and eventually, the evening winds down to its final moments. You barely notice the presenter’s voice over the soft murmur of your own thoughts, a quiet hum of gratitude settling in your chest. Glen may not have won tonight, but you know—this isn’t the end for him. Not even close.

When the final award is presented, everyone stands in applause, their excitement contagious, but you find yourself leaning back into the comfort of the moment. Glen’s hand, warm and steady on your back, guides you as you both move toward the exit, his parents trailing behind you.

You glance over at him—his face now a perfect mask of grace and poise. His earlier disappointment seems to have faded into the evening's glow. And though you know it might still sting for him later, for now, you’re here. Together. And that’s all that matters.

After the award show ends, Glen gives you a small, reassuring smile as you both make your way toward his parents, who are chatting with a few other guests near the exit. You and Glen share a brief exchange of looks—silent understanding passing between you before you approach them.

“Well, I think it’s time to say goodnight,” Glen says, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of exhaustion as he hugs his mom first, then his dad.

You follow his lead, offering a warm hug to Cyndy and Glen Sr., both of whom have been incredibly supportive all night. You exchange a few words, with his mom offering you a knowing smile and his dad patting Glen on the back, offering him a quiet “You did good, son. We're proud of you.”

Once the goodbyes are said, Glen takes your hand, leading you away from his parents to a quieter corner.

“Let’s get this night wrapped up,” he says with a grin, pulling you gently toward the after-party.

The after-party is lively but not too overbearing. The usual crowd of actors, producers, and influencers circulate the room, laughing and enjoying the last moments of the night. Glen and you share a few casual conversations with some of his industry friends, but the two of you stay close, mostly content in each other's presence.

You don’t stay long. Glen’s energy is starting to dip, and you can see the weight of the night catching up to him. When he whispers that he’s ready to leave, you’re more than ready to head back to the hotel as well.

As the elevator doors close behind you, the sounds of the bustling venue fade, replaced by the soft hum of the ride up. You catch Glen glancing at you from the corner of your eye, a soft smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“You were great tonight,” you say quietly, your voice a soft reassurance.

He shrugs, but the smile never fades. “It’s just part of the job.”

As you and Glen exit the elevator, the hallway feels quieter, almost like a contrast to the energy of the evening. The weight of the night—of the red carpet, the award show, the after-party—seems to melt away as you make your way down the hall toward your hotel room.

Glen’s hand is warm around yours, but you can feel the slight tension in his shoulders, the exhaustion settling in now that the cameras are no longer flashing and the attention is no longer on him. His smile, though still present, is more tired than it had been earlier. You can tell he’s ready to unwind, just the two of you.

Reaching the door, Glen digs into his pocket for the room key, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet hallway. As the door swings open, the familiar scent of the room hits you—slightly musty, but comforting, like the feeling of stepping back into a private space after a long, public day.

He holds the door open for you, letting you walk in first, before following closely behind. The room is dimly lit, the night sky outside casting a soft glow through the windows. You drop your clutch on the bed, watching as Glen kicks off his shoes with a tired sigh.

You turn to face him, standing there for a moment, both of you silently taking in the quiet that fills the room. Glen moves toward you, his hands finding yours, pulling you gently toward him.

“I’m glad you were here tonight,” he says softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You smile up at him, the flicker of pride you feel for him still alive in your chest. “I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.”

Glen’s lips quirk into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, he steps closer, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, as if silently thanking you for being his anchor. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply like he’s finally allowing himself to relax fully. The warmth of his breath against your temple sends a shiver through you.

Then, he lifts his head and looks at you, his hazel eyes holding something deeper. He reaches up, tilting your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you meet his gaze fully.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers, his voice low, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid you’ll say no.

Your chest tightens at his vulnerability, and you smile softly, shaking your head.

“Of course,” you whisper. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping in your own room anyway.

His shoulders relax slightly at your answer, and his lips curve into a grateful smile. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering at your temple.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice still low, intimate. “Let’s take a shower.”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the bathroom. The sound of the water turning on fills the space as Glen leans over to adjust the temperature. Steam begins to curl in the air, softening the edges of the brightly lit room.

Turning back to you, Glen steps closer, his hands finding your waist. His velvet jacket is the first to go. You reach up, your fingers brushing against his shoulders as you slide it off. It drops to the floor in a heap, revealing his silk shirt underneath. Slowly, your hands move to the buttons, undoing each one with care.

As you work, Glen leans down, pressing soft kisses along your lips, jawline and down your neck. The gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin sends a shiver through you, but the moment isn’t rushed. It’s deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of closeness he missed earlier.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to touch you all night,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You pause for a moment, your hands resting on his chest, and look up at him with a small smile. “I think I might have an idea,” you tease softly, earning a quiet laugh from him.

Once you’ve finished unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugs it off in one smooth motion, letting it pool on the cool tiled floor beside his jacket. Then, his hands find your hips, and he gently spins you around. His fingers trace the line of the zipper on your dress, slowly sliding it down. The fabric loosens, slipping over your hips and down your body until it gathers at your feet.

Glen wraps his arms around your bare midsection, pulling you back against his chest. He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his lips soft and warm against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, before moving to press another kiss to your neck. “I love you.”

Your breath catches at his words, and you rest your hands over his where they’re wrapped around you.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

After a moment, he releases you, stepping back so you can both finish undressing. Once you’re both bare, Glen takes your hand in his, his fingers intertwining with yours, and leads you into the shower. The warm water cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the long evening.

Inside the glass enclosure, it’s just the two of you, cocooned in the sound of the rushing water and the heat that envelopes you both. Glen reaches for the shampoo, lathering it in his hands before gently running them through the strands of your hair. His touch is slow and deliberate.

“You’re too good to me,” you murmur as he works the product into your scalp further.

He pauses, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looks at you. “Not even close,” he replies softly.

You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes hold yours for a long moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to show you how much you mean to me.”

Your throat tightens at his words, and you reach up, brushing a damp strand of hair out of his face. “You already do,” you whisper.

For the rest of the shower, there’s no rush, no urgency—just the quiet, intimate exchange of touch and unspoken promises. By the time you step out and wrap yourselves in the plush hotel robes, the connection between you somehow feels even stronger, solidified by the quiet moments you’ve shared.

Steam still lingers in the air as the two of you step out of the bathroom, freshly showered and relaxed. You pad over to your suitcase, rifling through it for something to wear, but instead of choosing one of your own shirts, you make your way to Glen’s bag. Pulling out one of his well-worn t-shirts, you slip it over your head, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. You pair it with your favorite underwear and turn to see Glen already pulling on a pair of black boxers, his hair still damp and curling slightly at the edges.

He glances at you and his lips curve into a small, tired smile. “Looks better on you,” he murmurs, nodding toward his shirt. You roll your eyes playfully but can’t help the warmth that blooms in your chest. 

The two of you crawl onto the plush mattress, settling in side by side. The headboard provides a comfortable backrest as Glen grabs the remote and flicks on the TV, aimlessly scrolling through channels. The faint glow of the screen fills the otherwise dimly lit room, but neither of you are paying much attention to what’s on.

A comfortable silence settles between you, the kind that only comes with familiarity. Without a word, Glen shifts, leaning over to lay his head on your lap. His strong arms wrap loosely around your waist, anchoring himself to you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. He exhales deeply, his breath warm against your leg, and you feel the tension in his body begin to melt away.

Instinctively, your fingers find their way to his hair, gently combing through the damp strands. He sighs at the touch, the sound soft and vulnerable, and it makes your chest tighten. You know Glen is always composed in public, but here, in the quiet of the hotel room, he lets his guard down.

For a while, he doesn’t say anything, just holds onto you like he needs the connection to keep himself steady. You can feel the weight of the evening still lingering in the air between you, though. It’s not just physical exhaustion; it’s the emotional toll of the night—the highs and lows, the constant smiling, the conversations that required too much energy.

Finally, Glen breaks the silence, his voice low and raw. “It was a lot, you know?” he murmurs, his face still pressed against your lap. “The whole day… the prep, the red carpet, the cameras… smiling so much my face hurt. And then sitting there, waiting for them to call my name.”

You hum softly in acknowledgment, your fingers never faltering in their soothing motions through his hair. “It’s okay to feel disappointed, you know. You worked so hard. Anyone would feel the same.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

“It’s not even about winning,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think… I think it’s just everything leading up to it. The expectations, the pressure. And then when they didn’t call my name, it was like all of that hit me at once.”

You glance down at him, his face partially hidden in the soft fabric of your borrowed t-shirt.

“It’s okay to feel this way, Glen,” you say softly, your voice full of reassurance. “You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

He shifts slightly, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he buries his face back against you.

“I just hate feeling like I let everyone down. My parents, the team that worked on this movie with me…” His voice trails off, and you can feel the vulnerability in his words.

“You didn’t let anyone down,” you say firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt. “Your parents are proud of you. I’m proud of you. I know Richard and Adria and the rest of the team that worked on this are proud of you too. Being nominated is a huge accomplishment, and everyone knows how much work you put into this.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him relax a little more against you. Your fingers continue their rhythmic motion through his hair, and the tension in his body seems to dissolve with every gentle stroke. The room is quiet except for the soft murmur of the TV in the background and the even sound of his breathing.

“You make everything better,” he finally whispers, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

You smile softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Glen doesn’t say anything else, but his arms tighten around you, holding you close like you’re his anchor in the storm. And in that moment, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—right here, grounding him when he needs it most.

[yuujispinkhair]

Hey Winter, babe, what are your thoughts in Dad! Sukuna? I can't stop wondering what type of dad he would be🥺

Aww hey babe 💗 I love Dad!Sukuna! It always makes me weak to think about him!! 💗💗

The first part of this post can be read for any version of Sukuna: King of Curses, Trueform, modern!Sukuna. The second part is specifically about modern CEO!Sukuna. My blog and some of the linked stories are 18+. Minors please don't interact.

Dad!Sukuna is this big, intimidating man who becomes so soft for his child. He is terrified the first time he holds his baby in his hands. It's so tiny, so fragile, so helpless. Sukuna isn't the type to make himself vulnerable, but he did so by allowing you in his heart and falling in love with you. And now you gave him a baby! You made something grow out of your shared love, and now he holds his baby, his and your baby, who has your eyes and his hair, and it makes him so scared.

Such a tiny, helpless little being, who is his responsibility, his to shelter and to protect in this big and dangerous world. This is the next level of vulnerability. Sukuna knows he will do anything to protect his child and his wife.

It gives Dad!Sukuna sleepless nights in the beginning. He gets up several times each night to sneak over to the small bed and sit next to it to make sure the little one is still breathing, and everything is alright. His large hand trembles when he caresses the soft hair on his child's tiny head.

This huge, strong man is so careful and gentle when he holds his baby in his arms. His eyes keep staring at it, disbelief in them because he still can't comprehend how this miracle happened. He never thought he would be the type to want kids, and now look at him!

Modern CEO Sukuna as a dad:

I love to imagine Sukuna as a girl dad. He is the type to raise a spoiled little brat-princess. Her wish is daddy's command. He buys her any toy she wants, and her closet is overflowing with the cutest clothes. The little princess wants to eat ice cream at eight in the morning? Ok, sure, daddy will drive to her favorite ice cream parlor with her. And if they tell him they are still closed at this time, Sukuna will convince them to open earlier just for his princess. Either with a generous amount of money or with threatening to send some food inspectors over to ruin the ice cream palor's reputation.

Sukuna is also the type of dad who is feared by every teacher because he is such an asshole at those teacher-parent meetings. He keeps calling the school and complaining and threatening them with consequences anytime his little princess has a bad grade or gets into any kind of trouble.

And he is just as bad at his daughter's sports events. Sukuna is ambitious and so proud of his little princess and super protective, so yeah, a lovely combination for any tournament ;) Catch him on the sidelines voicing his opinion to the coaches because he knows better, of course! And getting into fights with the referee, and snapping at the parents of the other kids when one of their children dares touch his princess.

Sukuna is a powerful man with endless riches, so he knows how to use his influence to make sure his little girl only gets the best.

Here are some of my other Dad!Sukuna drabbles/stories:

Dad!Sukuna when his little princess grows up and wants to date someone and get married

Dad!Sukuna vs future son in law Gojo

Trueform!Sukuna holding his newborn baby for the first time

Dilf!Sukuna

Sukuna + lactation kink

[rosemarymoodboards]

Underrated Avatar Ships That Deserved More Love (and Why They Just Work)

Everyone talks about the big ships, but let’s talk about the ones that had spark, depth, or raw potential and got sidelined, erased, or just plain slept on.

Because some of these pairs? They made sense. Quietly. Powerfully. Perfectly.

Katara x Haru — The Match That Was Already Aligned

This was a quiet ship that made way too much sense to be ignored. Haru wasn’t intimidated by Katara he respected her. He admired her leadership without trying to compete with it. She called him to action, and he followed not out of obligation but because he believed in her.

They met through revolution, not romance, and that’s what made it strong.

Same values. Same fight. Same kind of softness beneath all the strength.

They would’ve had a relationship built on shared purpose, quiet comfort, and emotional respect. Not possession. Not redemption. Just peace.

This could’ve been the slow-burn, healthy pairing no one saw coming.

Zuko x Jin — The Calm That He Was Never Allowed to Have

Say what you want, but Jin saw Zuko in a way that wasn’t tied to status, legacy, or trauma. She didn’t know who he was, and for a second, he got to pretend he wasn’t carrying the world on his shoulders.

She was warmth and curiosity. He was guarded but gentle. And that moment they shared it was clumsy, awkward, sweet, and real.

Zuko didn’t have to impress her. He didn’t have to prove anything. He just had to be.

And for someone who lived his whole life in exile, that’s a rare kind of intimacy.

They wouldn’t have been this epic enemies to lovers' story, but they could’ve been a healing one. The kind you grow into, not crash into.

Sokka x Suki — The Relationship That Deserved More Room

This ship had potential that the writing never fully let breathe. Their early dynamic was gold. Suki pushed Sokka to unlearn his biases, and Sokka rose to meet her. They challenged each other without tearing each other down.

She taught him grace. He gave her space to be soft. But once they were “together,” the depth kinda flatlined.

Not because they didn’t work but because the show didn’t let them evolve on-screen. They were reduced to “already in love” when their growth was just starting to get interesting.

They deserved to be complex. We deserved to see them fight, talk, learn, and rebuild. Instead, we just got glimpses.

Toph x Aang — The Pair That Could’ve Surprised Everyone

They challenged each other. Toph taught Aang how to stand his ground. Aang taught Toph that softness wasn’t weakness. There was real tension there, not romantic tension, but philosophical tension. And tension like that? It can transform, under the right circumstances.

She taught him how to face things head-on.

He reminded her what softness looked like without condescension.

They were both prodigies. Both burdened by things they didn’t choose. Their dynamic had this push-pull rhythm that could’ve easily evolved into something more grounded and real if the narrative had let it breathe.

In the End…

These pairings weren’t about destiny.

They were about emotional potential that didn’t get center stage.

They weren’t written for fanservice or tension they just worked in the background if you were paying attention.

Some ships burn bright.

These could’ve glowed warm for years.

Also, what's with the Earth Kingdom and having so many great love interests? 🪨🌱💚

[fanged-fanfics]

Hello! I hope you’re doing good! I’m not sure if this has been done yet, but I got an idea for a fluff (possibly a pinch of angst?) scenario!:

Any, all or two of the traffic light trio sillies (Mei, Red Son, MK), with an s/o GN!reader that’s an experienced healer who takes care of them after a tough battle against a monster of your choosing. Maybe they have a heartfelt conversation afterwards, or during the process of patching them up, about getting themselves in danger for the sake of saving the world? 👀

Been thinking a lot about this since s5 lmao. Haven’t fully recovered yet 💀

🍜💛 Healing a Trio —🐉💚 Traffic Light Trio x GN Healer!Reader HCs 🔥❤️

Genres: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜🐉🔥୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ . ݁˖

- It had been a fight with a huge hawk demon, one that MK was pretty confident he could take, especially cause Mei could use her bike to move closer to the threat. Red Son was roped in by circumstance, begrudgingly working with the heroes to defeat the threat. The attack was a surprise, so there wasn't much the Trio was prepared to do. Once it finally ended, they were sufficiently scratched, scuffed, battered, and bruised

- The three had come to you a little hesitantly. They didn't like feeling like they were bothering you, especially because these always ended in some deep conversations about the nature of self-sacrafice and priorities. When you'd opened your door to the three and allowed them in without many questions, they filed in, MK and Mei attempting lighthearted jokes right off the bat to diffuse tension

- MK, for as much as he gets hurt, sucks at getting patched up. He hisses and writhes if the topical medicine stings, yelping and whining at the unpleasant sensations. He's a very dramatic patient, but a very talkative one as well

- He tells you about the fight, reassuring you that he already remembers the conversations you'd both had before about these things. He's not exactly happy having to sit still while getting bandaids and bandages applied, but he's obviously still proud of his victory

- He's more quiet when you're closer, focusing on the feeling of your hands on his skin, the gentle and reliable touch providing a sense of safety and warmth. He feels his heart swell seeing the determined expression you have while working, and little flutters when you occasionally banter back. This routine between you was familiar, it was comforting. He felt safe under your care

- Mei, meanwhile, is also a pretty passionate speaker, but much less of a whiner than MK. Her problems are mostly just squirming from being hyperactive and wound up on adrenaline, frequently trying to hop off of your workbench to demonstrate a move

- Your gentle chastising with Mei is unique, specifically taking time to address how she feels being on the sideline of missions these days, and having to hold things together for MK most of the time. She feels like she can have that full honesty with you, your complete confidentiality and understanding helping to hold her together

- She flirts with you more openly than the other two. Any time you're close enough, she points out something about your face to compliment. She offers to help you do small things, asking questions about your job and what kinda stuff you see outside of the Monkey Crew

- Red Son, like the others, is a talker. His ramblings are closer to ranting and raving, and outside of waving his arms or doing grand dramatic gestures, he's more still than the other two

- Conversations about his family are what come up most often, when he isn't bragging about his villainy or latest attacks on the town. More recently he's been talking a lot about working as a food vendor. It's nice to see him happy about something that doesn't come from malicious intent

- He allows himself to show past his anger and be more vulnerable with you. He's a hint softer, a little more willing to be honest and open with you. He loves your willingness to do this for them, and he tells you frequently how much he admires you and your work

- The three usually stick around for a few hours after each appointment, talking with you and telling you about everything you my have missed in their lives. They treasure their individual time with you, and Mei and MK especially try to hype you up all the time to show their thanks

- They invite you out every once in a while to have some hangouts without medicine or injury in the picture. They introduce you as a vital member of the team to others and get protective of you during battles

[creeky-cricket]

I HEREBY BREAK MY SILENCE (IDK not for long, probably)

and in doing this, I will give you my first SFW alphabet, of MyStreet!Zane Ro'meave. cause the lack of content for this man is absolutely CRIMINAL.

Cw: talk of character death, very very brief talk about kinks, angst, fluff, hurt comfort, probably ooc idfk LMAO

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He probably wouldn't be the most affectionate in public, poor dude can't even bear the thought of people knowing his biggest interest cause he's worried he's gonna be made fun of </3. But, behind closed doors, he would 100% be the most gentle and cute lover, constantly asking if he was allowed to touch you, to hug you. It's the little things. As for verbal affection, I feel like he wouldn't be the biggest fan of pet names, maybe common ones like baby, or sweetheart occasionally but nothing BIG.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I have a few ideas for this one, but starting off with the most likely. You were probably a friend of Aphmaus or a friend of someone in the main group who's begun meeting everyone. I like to believe you two didn't click immediately, not fighting all the time or anything you just never really spoke. When it actually comes to being friends, you're the one to make the first move, even if it was just a subtly joke to him on the sidelines. Eventually, it just became a common occurrence to see you two together, enjoying each other's company. The two of you can barely even remember when you didn't talk, it just, suddenly happened.

(As for any others, I can think of a few tropes. Like, childhood best friends to lovers, the coffee shop aus, anything soft and sweet. BUT it has to have character development and plot.)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This man is a cuddler. Not in public, never in public. But if you two are sat in the same area together, he's leaning on you. Or pulling you into his chest. He likes the feeling of your weight on him, makes him feel grounded. I can also see something else that would happen quite often, like. You sat on the couch watching TV, and he comes in and sits on the floor in front of you or to the side of where you're sitting and just leans his head or body against your legs. (Don't be shy, play with his hair. >:3)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

This man is the most organised neat freak. Like, to the point it can get a bit tedious. He likes things to be in order and the way he likes it. However, he would be open to compromises. That being said, though, he would be totally fine with having most of the cleaning responsibilities. Like, as long as you’re not leaving him to clean up your stuff, and pick up after yourself, he doesn't expect you to go through and deep clean regularly. This doesn't mean your house is totally spotless tho. As for cooking, I feel like that would be more your responsibility- since all he can really do is bake LMAO. He can make like- bacon- I guess. He's not totally useless, but get him to make anything like stew or smth, he's gonna require a LOT of help. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he was the one breaking up with you, he would be very quiet leading up to it. Like, you would probably know because he's just- stopped wanting to be around you. Making excuses, being really mopey around you, and generally just not engaging with things that involve you. It's not like he's trying to be a dick or anything, he's just really worried about how you’re gonna take it. I feel like the reason he wants to break up isn't generally anything bad, he would have just lost feelings. Or felt as if it would just benefit the both of you if you were just friends. He doesn’t want to hurt you and is scared of you not wanting to be around him again. As for if you broke up with him, and how he would take it? PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT BREAK UP WITH HIM OVER TEXT. Zane, the soggy wet cat that he is, will internalize this SO BAD. one-way ticket to Spiral City, ‘What did I do.’ ‘why couldn't I be better’ such and such. Obviously, this would still happen if you broke up with him in person, but at least he can have the immediate distraction of the outdoors or whatever environment you’re in. The first thing he does. Text. Aphmau. Or hell, maybe Garroth depending on the point of timeline. He will cry. Mans will sit and stew in his room just, laid in bed for however long he feels. Will only come out for food and water.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

Well, this is a tricky one. Theoretically, yes. He would wanna get married, he's always liked the idea of that ‘picture perfect’ life, especially with you. But I guess it's just the actual act that would put him on edge. Not to mention the planning! It would stress him out so badly. God forbid the proposal too! He can barely plan a surprise birthday party, let alone a romantic moment that the two of you will look back on and treasure forever??? That being said, if somehow everything does go to plan, without Zane passing out or dying from cardiac arrest, I don't think it would change much for the two of you. Yes, you’re together by law now, but you were already living together before this, you were already settled before this. Honestly? I feel like he would be set with just staying engaged for the rest of your life. By this point, he knows you’ll never leave him. And god knows that he would never even begin to fathom a life without you in it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Gosh, Zane would be so conscious of being too overbearing with you. So he is very gentle physically. If you have long hair, and you ask him to tie it up for you, he would be so careful with it. Apologising if your hair gets tangled on his fingers, barely even pulls the hair tie in case it would hurt you. While you’re cuddling, he holds you fairly loose too, just in case you want to pull away. Or if you felt uncomfortable. Bro, it would be like a year into your relationship and he would still have such shaky hands and soft touches cause he's so nervous around you. I also hc that his hands are like, constantly cold. No amount of warmth can do this man good, so it's common that he pulls his hands away very quickly if you were to flinch from the cold. (like man, it would be the middle of summer and he would fr feel like he's been locked in a freezer for the majority of his life) Emotionally? Well, he tries, he really tries to be open for you. And he is, you can talk to him any time you want! He would never get bored of hearing your voice, it's just. He's always going to be blunt. And he's never gonna be able to know the right things to say in any given situation, so please be patient with him. (AHJDBAWHJK WAIT MF you: ‘…do you think I'm ugly??’ Zane: ‘uh… sometimes. I guess? why?’)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugs are awkward in the beginning. Like, he's such a touch-starved dude he doesn’t know what to do when someone hugs him. Let alone someone he likes a lot. God forbid it’s in a context in which you need comfort too, it would be so awkward. It’s also awkward because he doesn’t know how to ask for them. In theory, he wants to touch you all of the time. Like, he wants to hug you and be near you every second of the day, so he just doesn't wanna come off weird for wanting to hug you all the time. After a while, you both develop your own non-verbal mannerisms and ways of asking for physical affection, so it does get better. But still, if he had the choice of being close to you forever he would accept that so fast.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He probably says it very fast into the relationship, but like, it would be a heat of the moment sort of thing. Probably when you first start dating, it's a very flustered, very rushed ‘ILOVEYOU-’. But then wouldn't really say it after that. He already feels as if it’s something he shouldn't have said at the time, so he's not gonna risk saying it again not until at least a month or two into your relationship, or you begin saying it too. Once it becomes a normalised thing, he says it quite often. You’re the best thing that's ever happened to him, he wants you to know that! Even if that includes random moments of him pouring his heart out to you. Bro, it would be so dead silent, you could be doing something like housework and he would just spawn out of nowhere and be like ‘I really, really love you. You better know that!’

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ooohhh, he gets jelly. Very easy. Usually only over small things tho, and it's not entirely a big deal. But please don't just brush him off, poor baby just wants to make sure you’re not gonna leave him. He was in the shadow of pretty much everyone he's ever met: his brothers, his classmates, his friends. God, can you even blame him for being a little bit nervous about that? That being said, it's usually pretty easy to know when he's jealous. He gets very huffy and blushy and quiet, glaring at whatever’s making him jelly. Give him a few words of reassurance, hold his hands and give him eye contact while doing so and he’s a pile of mush lmao. However, there can be times that you can't tell that you’ve done something wrong, or well, what you have done wrong. If something makes him genuinely jealous, and makes him upset. He will wait until you’re in a more private setting before he explains, first of all, because he respects that that sort of stuff shouldn't be done in public. And secondly, because he just doesn't know how to phrase things, and probably feels as if he doesn't have the right to be feeling like that. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

You guys don’t have your first kiss until like, 4-5 months into your relationship. Depending on how close you are before you get together that is. It's possible you’d already had it before you started dating, but still. This is mainly because of the fact he wears the mask, which kinda obstructs things. But I feel like your first kiss would be so sweet, maybe during a moment where you’re comforting him. Specifically about his looks, he's sat telling you his insecurities and you persuade him to take his mask off. Cradling his cheeks and looking over his features, he gets a little flustered, so he begins to pull his mask up out of instinct but suddenly your lips are on his. He. Would. MELT. PILE OF GOOP. Putty in your hands. Probably goes really quiet for a while and you worry you made him uncomfy, and suddenly, after like 10-15 minutes, he asks if it would be ok if he kissed you again. >:3 He also likes to give you forehead and cheek kisses. Easiest to give through the mask. As for where he likes to be kissed, cheek, temple, lips. He's not entirely picky. Will get really flustered if you kiss his neck/jawline tho. Even if it’s in a completely innocent way, he just gets really red. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

You are not having kids. It's not like he doesn't like children, well- he doesn't but it’s more the anxiety that he gets around them if anything. Always feels like he’ll do something wrong and it would have lasting effects. Man worries too much, but at least you would know that if you did happen to have kids he would wanna be involved 24/7. He would technically be a good dad, but he would probably end up being a helicopter parent, especially if something was to happen to you.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Zane would either be the type to be up at 7 am sharp even on weekends. I feel like he’d be the type of person to loathe mornings too, so it would be pretty funny if he was an early riser. 

‘ ‘Hey, baby.’ you coo as you walk into the kitchen in the morning, seeing your beloved boyfriend resting his forearms against the windowsill, watching those who walked past. ‘Whatcha doin’?’ You ask, curiously, walking up beside him to find the scowl etched onto his face, ‘..judging..’ ’ He gets out of bed carefully in the morning so as not to wake you, slowly making his way out of your shared room and down the stairs. He probably just sits and watches TV in the living room for a while until you wake up. Though, if you didn't work at home, he would get things ready for you. Like, make you a drink, make sure your clothes are out of the wash, would want to make your food but he probably leaves that to you. His service stops at breakfast in bed (most days). 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Being a night owl, Zane’s the most ‘active’ at night. 7 pm to 12 am is the best time frame for him socially and creatively. Granted he's not the most creative person, but I imagine he does like writing and doodling every once in a while. Nights are pretty unpredictable when it comes to him, sometimes he's busy at work getting things done, or busy with some project that he's working on. But then, there are nights when all he wants to do is snuggle with you on the couch and just watch TV. Or even just spend some type of time with you. 2 am baking is a common occurrence too. A big mess to clean up in the morning too. Usually consists of you and Zane, sleep-deprived and laughing as you try and bake something together. Music is on in the background as you’re busy at work. 9/10 ends up with you both covered in various powders and ingredients due to you both getting too competitive in your ‘competitions’. However, that 1/10 is usually that sweet type of baking, tiredly clinging to each other as you follow some recipe that KC sent you either that morning or sometime a week ago. Soft kisses shared while you wait for things to mix and kjbkjbfsd I love baking oneshot ideas...

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He's not a very open person, we know this. Only starts telling you really deep things once he knows he can trust you, which takes a long time, mind you. By this I mean like; his insecurities, how he’s been treated during his life, and his feelings. And when he does start talking to you about this, it comes out like a fucking waterfall. Especially if he's ranting after a high-stress situation. God, this poor guy, probably starts crying and beating himself up about it because he's embarrassed and feels like he's making a fool of himself in front of you. Ends with him in your arms, from an angry peak to a very sad low. There are situations like this every now and again with him, with the way he bottles pretty much everything, day in, day out it's hard not to. Everybody needs some kind of release every once in a while. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He gets grumpy easily, but that's it really. He never really gets ‘angry’ with you, and you guys never really argue, not really. Maybe silly disagreements here and there, but if you’re actually the one for him I feel like he would value you most because you can agree on almost everything. That being said, he is Zane Ro’meave, an easily irritated guy. Plus the fact he annoys people for the fuck of it and lacks the skill the care about who he upsets. If you do something that actually pisses him off you’ll know about it eventually. Similarly to how he gets when he's jealous, he just gets kinda quiet for a while, before giving himself to recollect his thoughts before sitting down and speaking about it with you. Working out solutions and ways to avoid it in the future. Do expect to be glared at a lot too, this man has the perfect stink eye, and will not be afraid to throw it at you if you’re being annoying. (though he doesn’t really care lmao, as long as you’re comfortable and having fun it's usually not a problem.)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He knows absolutely everything. Mainly because he will just sit there and listen to you rant, just like you would do for him. Like, at first you would be ranting, and he would be doing something. Like scrolling on his phone, or reading. And you would get mumbly and stop because you didn’t want to get annoying and were afraid of him getting irritated. Bro fr looks up from whatever he is doing and raises his brow. If you don’t continue, he will prompt you to. ‘I'm still listening,’ ‘continue,’ ‘and then what happened?’. Would probably be able to recite the whole thing back to you. Along with this, he remembers the other small things too, whether it's something you told him about yourself, or something somebody else told him about you. Like, your favourite drink, your favourite movie, hell, he would totally try and get into your special interest and learn certain things about it if he heard how much it means to you cause he wants you to feel heard and loved. :3

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

If you were to ask him, he'd probably say he couldn’t tell you, that he didn’t really know. But honestly? His favourite is probably from near to when you first started living together, not everything was in its right spot as of yet, and things were still unfamiliar. One night, there was a huge storm outside, thunder, lightning, wind, you name it. Just when you thought it couldn't get much worse, the power had been cut out due to it too, so no wifi, no TV, and most importantly, no light. The power cut out just as the sun began to set too, and wouldn't be fixed till late morning. Zane, being the guy that he was, didn't really care too much about the cut. Sure, it was inconvenient but it wasn’t a huge bother to him. But he noticed how on edge you seemed. How tense you were. And so, he asked you about it, and upon learning about your feelings towards storms, plus the added stress of lack of lights and distractions, he took it upon himself to ‘protect’ you. And so, for the rest of the night, you two poked around in unpacked boxes, looking for torches, games, anything you could use to pass the time. Though, through everything, it ends with the two of you cuddled under a blanket fort you made out of boxes, blankets (obv) and various other bits of furniture. Zane's arms wrapped around you, keeping you secure as the two of you either slipped into sleep or waited for the sun to rise once again.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

As I said before, very nervous about being too overprotective, he doesn't wanna seem controlling, cause he's heard that that’s a bad thing to be. Would barely even touch you for the first few weeks of your dating, cause he didn't want to make you uncomfy. It's the same reason he doesn’t like PDA, along with the fact it makes him uneasy. But, that doesn't mean he won't protect you. Like, if someone were to start being rude to you, he would be on the front lines. Verbally, of course. If it was one of the main group, and they had said something that had upset you. He would 100% chew them out for it, in public too. He does NOT fear confrontation. As for you with him, he would not like for you to do that. If somebody upsets him, he can and will stand up for himself and he wants you to be able to understand that. (But if someones talking behind his back and he wasn't there…. well.) I feel like the ‘protection’ that he would want from you, is to just be a safe haven for him. Someone he can talk to, be himself with and have no worries that you would tell anyone. It seems silly, but he would literally love you forever.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

NAWH HE WOULD TRY SO HARRRDD. One of the first dates you go on would probably be a really fancy thing, like a restaurant. BUT IT WOULD BE SO AWKWARD. The reason he invited you to that dinner is because that's what he thought you expected him to do, and obviously he has connections with money considering his family. But after that, he would probably talk to you about it, and upon learning that also wasn’t your setting, you would move on to more comfortable places. Like the movies! Or the arcade! As for gifts, and anniversaries, he would panic SO BAD. Your first anniversary, he had Aphmau and Aaron guiding him through it. Like, ‘What should I do?’, ‘Where should we go??’, ‘What do I get them???’. He just wants it to be perfect for you like you would do for him. Safe to say the key thing with him is communicating, no surprise dates. That would make him so uncomfy. OH, AND HE WOULD HELP YOU WITH TASKS TOO. Like, if he saw that you were stressing he would fr sit you down and be like, ‘ok, listen. This is stressing you out. What can I do to help you.’ would 100% do the silliest task you set for him as long as it makes you feel better </3

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He probably finds it really funny to annoy you. Like, most of the time it's harmless, but sometimes it gets to a point where you feel as if he’s just making fun of you. Which isn't his intention! And you know this, in the grand scheme of things. He just gets carried away, seeing you frustrated is cute and funny to him. It's also probably his way of flirting lmao. Bro will find pay so much close attention to you, find the ways that you tick and the small things that piss you off and push every fucking button he can LMAO. Can and has ended up with you being like ‘Dude, seriously? Cut it out.’. It would take him a while to fully apologise, especially at the beginning of your relationship. Back then he probably wouldn't even say it to your face, would send you a genuine text paragraph saying he was sorry and then act like it never happened. When you’re more comfortable with each other he will say he's sorry, but subtly. He does mean it, he just gets really awkward about it.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

This dude. For a man who wants people to think he is tough, mysterious and intimidating, he dresses like an E-boy and covers 75% of his face simply because he doesn’t like how he looks. And he feels like people would think less of him because of it. It takes him a long time to feel comfortable enough to be completely maskless around you. He’s not as bothered with his eye as he is with his freckles, so that’s probably the thing you see first. To help with this, complement him. Complements are his weakness. Just a simple ‘you’re so pretty’ would have him REELING. (Bro has the biggest praise kink) 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh absolutely, this dude can barely sleep in a bed without you in it. Once he's gotten a taste of the love you gave him, he feels like he wouldn't be able to go on without it. This might be the angst-craving side of me talking, but imagine a world where you’re suddenly taken from him. Little to no warning. Whether you die, you go missing or whatever, the absolute disdain that he would feel. Would feel lost for so long if you remained gone, barely talked, barely went out, and probably moved out of your shared house and back in with Garroth for a while. He just doesn't know what to do with himself. Depending on how far into the relationship you are when this happens, idk if he would get with anyone again. If it was rather early, he would more than likely move on eventually. It would take a while but he would, for you. But if you were like, committed? Engaged and everything, there's no way. You were the one for him, and he would just not be happy with anyone else. Cause it wouldn't be you. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He's a very sleepy drunk and a lightweight. This man didn't have his first drink till like, his late twenties. And even then I don't think he would ever make a habit out of drinking, maybe a few at gatherings, doesn't really like to go out to an alcohol-centric setting (like a bar or anything). Plus the fact it's hard to drink through a mask so most of the time at these gatherings he was the designated driver. So if he ever does get drunk around you, (one of the rare times) expect to be fallen asleep on, and helping him to the car. Also a cuddly drunk. But only with like, you and Aph. Maybe Garroth depending on how far gone he is. Will just sit there silently, either with you on his lap or sitting to the side of you, arms around your waist and head on your shoulder / in your neck, sound asleep.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone who won't / isn't able to communicate with him. Communication is key with Zane, after being pushed around and forced into awkward and unwelcoming environments for the vast majority of his life he just wants to be with someone who will listen to his point of view and not judge him for basically existing. He also wants to be with someone who can tell him when he's doing something they don’t like. He’s not good at reading between the lines, and will just continue doing something if you don’t tell him. He would also need you to tell him when he does something you do like as well. He wants to know what he can do as well as can't do. And he expects all the same from you too. He understands communication can be difficult for some people, but to be his partner you’ll need to have the ability to set boundaries, and clear ones at that.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Bro pulls all-nighters like he doesn't need sleep to survive. And then he complains that he's tired all the time. Will say something like ‘I've got such bad eyebags’ and then argue the toss when it comes to you telling him to sleep more. Though not to be cliche, he does sleep better when you’re laid with him. It's just the grounding feeling of your weight against him, and the sound of your soft breaths. And the fact he physically can't move by law. Lmao, you have to coax him to actually go to bed though, like a toddler. He’ll be so tired, eyelids drooping and falling asleep on the couch or at a desk and he will fr be like ‘Noooo, I don't wanna’. And then as soon as he lays down he is out like a fucking light.

oh, hey!!

ty for reading!! :3

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Aizawa's First Kiss | Shota Aizawa x Oboro Shirakumo

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shota Aizawa x Oboro Shirakumo

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Lemon

My Master List!

Shota Aizawa’s First Kiss

It’s dusk in the city. From a dingy rooftop, Shota watches the golden summer sun slip beneath the jagged horizon line of skyscrapers. Sure, the city is beautiful from up here. But honestly, he wishes he were in the grimy streets below throwing punches at villains. Two weeks into his internship and he’s already starting to feel frustrated, cooped up and useless. The Pro Hero mentor that he and Oboro Shirakumo share has been pleasant enough – giving them tips and teaching them a combat technique or two. But when it comes to practical hero skills, the Pro has been leaving Shota and Oboro to watch from the sidelines as he cleans up the city streets with his sidekicks.

Shota watches as their mentor zigzags through the alleyways below, chasing after a car thief. He balls his hands into tight fists and counts to ten, letting out a deep sigh of irritation. He turns to his friend to remark on how useless he feels but is stunned into silence when he sees the way the sunset’s glow sparkles across Oboro’s gentle features.

There’s no doubt about it - Oboro Shirakumo is an attractive young man. At 18 he’s tall and slight, his face almost impish with its sharp upturned nose and soft cheeks. His puffy silver hair flows around his face, almost weightless. His quirk allows him to create clouds of all shapes and sizes – his hero name “Loud Cloud” is a bit on the nose.

Currently, Oboro sits cross-legged on one of his clouds, eyes closed. He’s floating a few meters off the ground, hands tucked behind his head as he enjoys the last of the sun’s heat. Shota marvels for a moment in his friend’s beauty – the way he just seems to radiate warmth. Oboro’s eyelids flutter open and he looks down at Shota questioningly.

“What’s on your mind, Eraser?” He asks, getting to his feet and letting the cloud dissipate into vapor. Shota shifts on his feet, remembering why he’s in such a sulky mood.

“We’re not learning anything valuable here. Maybe we should ask UA to have us reassigned.” He groans, shoving his hands in his pockets reflexively.

“You’re always so impatient, Shota.” Oboro Shirakumo puts a hand on Aizawa’s shoulder, grinning good-naturedly at his friend. “We’re learning plenty! Also - these things take time. You can’t completely level up and be patrolling the streets in two measly weeks.”

Shota glares at his friend through his peripherals. He shakes off the warm hand that’s causing goose bumps to bloom under his dark hero costume.

Of course he would say something like that. It’s no surprise that Oboro thrives in the agency environment – as an extrovert, he’s naturally good at networking and picking up office culture. Shota’s brooding nature doesn’t quite fit in the bright, window filled agency office in the center of the city. He constantly feels uncomfortable and out of place. The sidekicks try to be nice to him, but he can sense their discomfort as well. No one aside from Oboro seems to know how to interact with Shota and his quiet, gloomy vibe.

Shota finally voices the true thought that’s been nagging at him. “I don’t belong here, Oboro. I should be interning with an underground hero.” Shota tucks his chin into his chest – a childhood habit that’s stuck with him and comes out when he’s brooding. Oboro considers him, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“Stop sulking, Shota.” Shirakumo says simply, causing a lightening strike of anger to flare up in Shota’s chest. On instinct, his quirk activates and his hair flares up.

“Wow, you are really in a bad mood today, huh?” Oboro looks at him appraisingly, still smiling. He’s not afraid of Shota – he never has been. “Shota. I think it’s important that you learn the basics from a Pro in the spotlight. There are so many lessons here that can easily be applied to underground hero-work. Plus, you’ve gotta make connections with all types of heroes so you can hit people up for team-ups in the future.”

Shota grumples unintelligibly – he knows that Oboro is right. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it. He takes a few deep breaths and deactivates his quirk, his dark hair falling back down to his shoulders.

“You know what your problem is, Shota? You really need to learn how to chill the fuck out.” Oboro activates his quirk and forms a new cloud beneath his feet. It lifts him up a few feet into the air and he rides it like a skateboard around the length of the roof before coming to a stop back at Shota’s side. “For example – instead of being existentially angsty right now, you could be enjoying this beautiful sunset with your best friend. Look at all those golden colors and the way the city sparkles in the light, Shota! It’s a Kodak moment!”

Shota glances to the side and once again is struck by how pretty Oboro’s face is, his silver hair sparkling in the dying light of the sun. Oboro turns back to look him in the eyes and says cheekily “Kinda romantic, don’t ya think?” He winks. Shota’s stomach does a summersault.

He looks away and shakes his head. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’ve got a stick up your ass.” Oboro retorts easily. “Oh look – he caught the car-jacker!” He points down at the sprawling cityscape at their Pro Hero mentor who’s now handcuffing the criminal to a parking meter. “That was fast.”

Their headset comm units crackle to life and one of the Sidekicks sends the pair a quick message. “Eraser Head and Loud Cloud, please hold your positions. There may be another carjacker in the area. Please await further instructions.”

“Ugh. And here I thought we’d be done for the day.” Shota grumbles, watching as the police cars start to pull up to the crime scene, sirens flashing in the dying daylight.

“Looks like we’re stuck here for a bit!” Oboro says cheerfully, watching the scene below with satisfaction. “No civilian casualties – sweet!”

Shota rolls his eyes. “This was a small time car thief, not some big brawler villain. Of course there weren’t casualties.”

“Wow, Shota. You’re a real stick in the mud today.” Oboro turns to fully look him in the face and takes in the bags under Shota’s eyes. No wonder Aizawa is so grumpy! It’s clear his friend isn’t taking care of himself – Shota looks exhausted and disheveled.

“Sho…when was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” Oboro asks gently, reaching out to place his hand back on Shota’s wiry shoulder.

“Ugh I don’t know. I’m too busy training.” Shota grumbles. He doesn’t shake off Oboro’s hand this time. Now that Oboro’s mentioned it, a little rest doesn’t sound so bad. He thinks longingly of his room at the agency with its blackout curtains and cozy bed. Maybe a break from training would do him some good, clearly his nerves are on the fritz.

“Buddy, I really think you need to take better care of yourself. How are we going to start the best agency in the city if you’re already worn down at age 18?” Oboro says kindly, kneading Shota’s shoulder softly. Shota avoids Oboro’s gaze – it’s too open, too caring. They’ve been friends for almost three full years and he still hasn’t gotten used to that look.

Oboro’s gaze is impossibly soft as he takes in the rest of Shota’s appearance – his eyes roam over Shota’s shoulder length hair, dark as a midnight sky. His hero costume matches his gloomy attitude – a black jumpsuit with dark combat boots. Oboro and Hizashi have often made fun of Shota’s hero costume for looking too emo. But here, on a rooftop in a crime-ridden city, Oboro has to admit that the outfit is pretty intimidating. The jumpsuit is deceiving – it makes Aizawa look skinny and weak. The way the color contrasts against his sallow skin tone makes him look almost frail. But Oboro knows better – Shota is one of the strongest combat fighters in their class. He doesn’t even need to use his quirk to overpower an opponent hand-to-hand combat – he’s that good. Also, he’s a good 6 feet of pure muscle. Oboro’s snuck enough glances in the locker room to know that underneath that drab outfit, Shota is packing a shit ton of muscle mass. His eyes roam across Shota’s trim waist and he longs to move his hands down to grip his thin hips. But no…that would be weird. Best friends don’t grab each other by the waist.

He brings his stare up to the grey capture weapon is wrapped loosely around Aizawa’s neck. This is a new addition to the costume – Shota has been training with the support item for a good two years now, and has only just begun to master it. This is the first time Oboro has seen him wear it in the field, and he has to admit that it looks pretty cool. Shota is just so fucking cool and beautiful that it hurts Oboro sometimes. It makes his heart squeeze in all the worst ways. He feels his pulse quicken as he thinks through a plan that he’s been working to hatch for months now. A plan that can now unfurl itself since Oboro and Shota are completely alone.

He continues to survey Shota thoughtfully. Shota’s face grows a bit hot under the scrutiny; he’s honestly not sure what’s got Oboro so locked in on his costume. It must be the binding clothes – they are a new addition, after all. It must be something more than that, though. Shota has been trained to understand a shift in body language – something is making Shirakumo nervous.

Oboro gulps down his fear – it’s now or never. “You know what you need, Sho? A pick me up!”

“Coffee would be nice.” Shota says hopefully, his angst melting away a bit at the mention of caffeine.

“No, no, not coffee. Something else.” Oboro says teasingly, but now Shota feels extra annoyed at being denied the simple pleasure of caffeine. “Quick, close your eyes!”

“Ughhhh.” Shota lets out a long noise of aggravation but complies. He lets his eyes flutter closed, assuming Oboro is going to do some of his usually hippy dippy guided meditation shit. Not that he minds – he loves the gentle timber of Oboro’s voice as he talks Shota through a calming meditation. It’s something Oboro does often amongst their friend group. His mom is a yoga instructor, and he channels her energy well. If everyone is grouchy he’ll demand they do a quick reset and take them through a 10 minute gratitude meditation. By the end, they are all usually feeling a bit less on edge. Shota lets his mind clear in preparation for Oboro’s upbeat voice to implore him to set an intention.

But there’s only silence.

Shota stands quietly for a moment, eyes closed. He’s trying to be patient as he humors his friend, but his nerves are already so on edge today that he’s getting a little fidgety. Meanwhile, Oboro is trying to pluck up the nerve to carry out his big, beautiful master plan. He takes a step closer to Shota, sweating.

“…Oboro?” Shota asks aloud, waiting for a response. Nothing. Instead, he hears a shuffling of shoes as Oboro scoots closer and closer to him. He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels his friend’s warm hand cup his cheek. Shota’s eyes fly open and he finds himself nose to nose with Shirakumo, their faces just inches apart.

“I’m gonna show you something better than caffeine, Sho.” Oboro whispers, his voice husky as his eyes dart down to Shota’s lips. Shota’s brain is going absolutely haywire and he breathes in sharply. He can’t seem to comprehend that Oboro is so fucking close and touching his face. His hand is so warm and soft against the rough stubble of Shota’s cheek, and his skin smells like mint and fresh baked bread. It’s intoxicating. Shota feels his body leaning in towards Oboro, wanting more of whatever is happening here. Shota wants to melt into him, wants their bodies to slide together and become inseparable. This is not something that friends usually do, is it? He doesn’t fucking care.

Oboro brushes his thumb across Shota’s lower lip. He smiles as he stares at his friend’s irresistibly perfect cupid bow. He licks his own lips before leaning in and closing the distance between them. Shota’s eyes widen as soft, pillowy lips press against his own. He’s never been kissed before, and so he never knew how wonderful it could feel to have his mouth slide and press against someone else’s lips. He feels like there’s an ocean full of stars in his chest, fizzling and popping and threatening to burst out of the spot where his heart lives.

Oboro deepens the kiss, sliding his hand behind Shota’s head and up into his hair. He pulls his friend closer so that their chests touch. Shota winds shaky arms around his friend’s neck and kisses him back with such ferocity it leaves him breathless. For a moment, he wonders if he’s doing it right. But based on the way that Oboro is enthusiastically kissing him back and pulling at the roots of his hair, he figures he must be doing enough right for now.

When they finally break apart, the first stars of the evening are starting to wink down at them from above in the dark city sky. The final rays of the sun have disappeared behind the skyscrapers and the city streets seem to be quiet in the summer haze.

Shota looks up at his friend, his arms still wrapped around Oboro’s neck. He’s feeling shaky and winded, his heart beating far too fast for his liking. He finds he doesn’t feel much like brooding anymore.

Oboro gazes down at him through heavy lashes, his face plastered with a smile of fondness and warmth that Shota has never quite seen before.

Shirakumo is the first to speak. “Sho…I’ve been wanting to do that, like, forever.” He laughs, a bright sound that hangs in the thick summer air and wraps around Shota like a warm blanket.

“…really?” Shota asks, stunned. He can feel his face is flushed but he doesn’t feel the need to hide it.

“Of course! I’ve been wanting to kiss you for literal months!” Oboro says before freeing a hand so he can point at the alleyways below them. “I even asked the sidekicks if they could leave us up here alone for a while, hoping I could gather up the nerve to finally do it.”

Shota freezes at this and then lets out a long groan of irritation. “Oboro. You’re telling me that you purposefully got us assigned to a fake mission? You knew we weren’t going to do any hero work tonight?”

Oboro raises an eyebrow. “Are you complaining?” He dips down and kisses Shota soundly on the lips, eliciting a surprised groan of satisfaction from his friend. He breaks the kiss with a smack of his lips. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“You’re purposefully inhibiting my education.” Shota says, trying to keep his usual neutral look pasted on his face. He can’t help the way his cheeks are twitching into a grin. “You’re a menace to me, and to society.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Oboro winks and it sends shivers up Shota’s spine.

A sidekick’s voice crackles through their earpieces once again. “Eraser Head and Loud Cloud – we rounded up all the criminals and we’re done for the night. Report back to agency HQ for a debrief. Over and out.”

“Sounds like we need to head out.” Oboro says, with no intention of releasing Shota from his warm embrace.

“Yeah.” Shota says simply, having nothing else important to add. He’s punch drunk on all the kissing and his head is spinning – he can’t make sense of the fact that his best friend might actually like him back.

“Don’t worry.” Oboro says, activating his quirk to summon a large cloud beneath the two of them. “We can take the long way back – I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Mm.” Shota nods, feeling like an idiot. He’s tongue-tied, not sure how to even begin to start this next conversation. The cloud is cushy and Shota moves apart from Oboro so that it can support his weight. They both get into comfortable sitting positions and Oboro directs the cloud to take them to midtown.

“Or…we can just kiss the whole ride home.” Oboro suggests mischievously, reaching to grab Shota by the binding clothes and pull him roughly back into his arms.

“A better pick me up than caffeine, a hundred times over.” Shota breathes before craning up to meet his friend’s lips.

--------

I hope you enjoyed!!

For more fun and flirty fics, check out my masterlist!

Thanks for reading! 💕 - RedRiotUnbreakableHeart

[lexa-griffins]

"Don't Hold Back" for the fic title

I feel like this is definitely nudging me towards a certain place so I'll comply... under the cut! 😝

But first the non smut one:

Canon world, maybe. A Lexa doesn't die, the end of the world doesn't happen (again) story.

Clarke has taken up training with Anya. She is not training to be a warrior by any means, but to survive on the ground in the high position Clarke as proven herself worthy off she needs to be able to defend herself properly, not just with a gun and pure brute force.

Per Lexa's request Anya goes easy on Clarke, who ends most training sessions on her back, breathless, listening to a list of everything she did wrong given to her by a disappointment Anya.

All it takes is for Anya to question if something was to happen to Lexa with Clarke around, the commander would be sure to die thanks to Clarke's inability to fight.

That sets Clarke off immediately. She is throwing herself at Anya who dodges her and pocks her again, reminding her how she would be unable to even catch whoever hurt Lexa. And Clarke launches at her again, this time landing a punch. Anya is quick to rise and throw one back, but Clarke is quicker and moves, avoiding the hit. The pride in Anya’s face shines for barely a second.

Lexa watches from the sidelines, hidden by the shadows of the trees. Anya is correct that Clarke would probably not be capable of helping Lexa if something was to go wrong. Lexa thinks she would very much prefer the sky girl leave her to die if they ever find themselves in such a situation but knowing Clarke, she would not back down so it is best she knows how to fight.

A loud thud reaches her as she watches as Anya falls on the dirt, Clarke's knee holding her down, a dagger on Anya’s neck.

The older woman chuckles darkly, looking at the wild beast in Clarke's eyes, "She finally got me Heda."

At Lexa's title, Clarke turns her head abruptly, sheepishly dropping the dagger as Lexa comes forward and towards them.

Lexa simsply nods, a proud smile on her face. Staring at her, Clarke's eyes feel tamed once more and she feels the adrenaline leave her and a smile blossom. She helps Anya off the floor.

"It seems she is ready for the next step." Its the first thing Lexa says. Clarke stares at her slightly confused, "and Anya this time, no need to hold back."

Clarke barely has the time to open her mouth before she is being thrown on the ground.

(Also g!p clarke. Duh.). Smutty but with quite a soft undertone to it, building trust and confidence in bed between them.

They've been managing to take things as slow as they can. With the desperation burned out during their first time, they get to slowly learn about each other's bodies and likes.

Lexa has never explicitly told Clarke she likes it soft and gentle, but perhaps it was her tears or the lovestruck look she gives Clarke that gave her that impression and so, with out ever truly confirming it, Clarke goes slow with Lexa, lovingly. Oh so sweet.

Lexa loves it. But she knows Clarke is holding back. And Lexa... Lexa is quite tired of being treated like she might break during sex.

Slowly Lexa would encourage Clarke to let go fully in bed. Urge her on. Ask her to go harder and faster. Nudging Clarke to place them in positions easier to allow her to go harder.

Until the one night when Lexa demands it of her. "Don't hold back, niron. Give me all."

And so Clarke kisses her, the last piece of softness for the next while.

And Lexa loves her soft niron. Loves the care Clarke takes with her, always entering her slowly, allowing Lexa the time to adjust. Never rushing, always assuring, always asking. But this Clarke? This is the woman of passion and fervor she fell in love with. Desperate and rough and so full of passion as she fucks Lexa onto the mattress.

The first of many, I'm sure.

[adamsrcnan]

Wrote a little jerejean thing!!

Jean wasn’t entirely sure what kind of person he was if he was being honest with himself. Most of his life was spent trying not to die, and when he looked back at his life, he wasn’t entirely sure what it was he was holding onto. What pieces of himself wanted to stay.

Maybe it was Exy. Maybe it was the small moments where he’d look out at the fans in the stands with fake 3’s painted on their faces, and Moreau jersey’s on their backs, and he’d allow himself to feel good about the little following he had secured that supported him. Maybe it was the quiet private moments between himself and Kevin, where they’d whisper reassurances to each other in French, and patch each other’s wounds up like sorry fools. Maybe it was the fleeting feeling of control he would experience every so often on the court when he’d smack a ball so hard and it would land precisely where he wanted it to. Or, maybe it was that deep and daunting fear that, if he ever took his own life, Riko would find a way to bring him back and torture him for trying to leave.

Jean wasn't sure.

But, as he sat there on the sidelines of the Trojans' court, grounding himself with the weight of his racket in his crooked hands, he thought maybe his answer could be found in the feeling he got in his chest as he watched his captain glide across the space.

He knew what the feeling was. Had felt it in the quiet, secret spaces shared with Kevin, in Renee's gentle and cherubic nature, but he also knew this was different. This was more. This was scary. This was thrilling. For the first time in his life this had made him want to really truly stay.

The only thing Jean had ever understood about himself was that fear was what drove him. Fear of pain and of punishment was what pushed him to get up after every knock down, every injury, every cruelty. That no exceptions would ever be made for him and no excuse ever valid. That he was never going to make it past graduation, and he was okay with that. It was the only kind of fear Jean knew. He didn't realise there could be any other.

Until he met the force of nature that was Jeremy Knox.

Now as he watched Jeremy jog across the court, gesturing with his outstretched arm as he called his team to action, he understood there was another kind of fear that existed. A good kind, though no less overwhelming. But Jean found he liked that.

Jeremy Knox exuded a natural charisma Jean had never seen before. It filled the space of every room he stepped into. Jean was in no doubt everyone in Jeremy's sphere knew this. It was there, in the way bodies moved towards him like they couldn't get close enough. Arms always thrown over his shoulders and palms always clasped a little too tight, and a little too long, after a hand shake or a high five. Eyes that skittered away but always went back. Because nobody could ever resist staring directly into the sun.

Jean closed his eyes then and leaned his head back against the court walls. Bright spots filled the darkness behind his eye lids, all shaped like Jeremy's face. He breathed in deeply and focused on the sounds around him. Sneakers squeaking on the floor, the swoosh of a racket cutting through the air, the echos of balls smacking against the floor and the walls. His body jumped slightly as footsteps ran past a little too close, but he kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady. He was safe. He was safe here.

"Jean."

His heart stuttered. His eyes opened.

There was his sun.

Balancing himself on one knee, forearm resting on the other. Eyes locked on Jean's, smile filling his cheeks.

Jean Moreau was in love.

Jean Moreau wasn't sure yet what kind of person he was. He thought perhaps he would never know. But he knew now he was a person who could fall in love. A person who could feel a gentle soft thing like this. Jeremy had stilled the raging storms inside him just a little bit more and more every day.

Now, Jean knew for sure that this was something he was holding on to. Because he wanted it. He wanted it fiercely. He wanted it desperately. And Jean had never been able to want before. He thought he'd hate it. But he loved it. It scared him because of the way it made him want to heal, want to reach out, want to find peace. Because of the way it made him want to stay.

The love he felt for Jeremy Knox made him always want to be bathed in his light.

Jean leaned forward pressing into Jeremy's space. Eyes scanning his face. Jeremy's smile never wavered, in fact it got bigger as his eyes stayed fixed on Jean's.

"Ready to jump back in?" Jeremy asked, still all smiles.

It was infectious and Jean's lips twitched.

Their faces were inches apart and Jean closed the gap as he pressed his forehead into Jeremy's. He smiled fully then, as he felt Jeremy press back.

They were sweaty and smelly and Jean breathed it in.

"Oui," he answered.

Jean spent most of his life trying not to die. He could never figure out what he was holding onto.

Now, as he stood on the Trojans' court in the Tronjans' colours, his big crooked hand wrapped around Jeremy's small soft one, as he took his weight and hauled him up off the floor, he felt that soft thing wrap around his heart.

In that moment, Jean Moreau determined, he would spend the rest of his life living.

[across-violet-skies]

Febuwhump day 29: not allowed to die

Whumpees: the Chain

Whump Rating: 10/10

TWs: major character death (of sorts. it's complicated), blood & injury

Time seemed to slow down as Hyrule glanced over at his teammates.

Time and Warriors were holding their ground, as were Sky and Twilight. Wild was in the trees somewhere, picking off monsters with his bow, and Legend was blasting monsters with his fire rod.

Wind was down for the count. He would be fine, but he couldn’t fight in his current state, so he was sitting on the sidelines woozily. Wild was close enough to keep an eye on him, at least.

Which left Four. He had been fighting alongside Wind, but now with the sailor out of commission, monsters were beginning to gang up on the smithy. He slashed furiously at Bokoblins and Moblins as they surrounded him, finding their smallest member to be an easy target. Four was strong and a capable fighter for sure, but there were only so many monsters that one person could reasonably manage at one time, and the smith was reaching that limit.

Hyrule watched with horror as a Moblin raised a spiked club, swinging it with incredible speed and dexterity for a beast of that size.

“Four!” Hyrule called, alarmed.

It was too late.

The traveler watched with horror as Four turned to look, eyes widening for a split second before the club made contact with his chest, creating the most terrible cracking sound. The smithy flew backward into a sturdy tree, crumpling into a pile on the ground.

“FOUR!” Hyrule screamed, sending a sword beam through a Lizalfos’ throat before running to his friend. The monsters had dispersed already, assuming the smithy to be dead.

Hyrule desperately hoped they were wrong. They had to be wrong.

Legend, who had also seen the events, came running as well. Hyrule skidded to his knees next to Four, frantically searching for a pulse or breathing or something. He couldn’t be dead. He had to be alive. He had to be.

“I’ll guard you!” The Veteran yelled, falling into a defensive stance as more monsters approached the fallen smithy.

Hyrule didn’t bother replying, too focused on finding a pulse. Four’s body– so small, so vulnerable like this– was mangled, especially in the chest area. But there was a faint movement there, a strained breath. Four was alive, but only just. He would have to heal this quickly if the smith was going to continue to live.

Focusing, Hyrule shut his eyes, puffing out his cheeks. Magic pooled in his hands, and he slammed a ton of it into Four all at once, crying out. Green tendrils poured from the traveler, sinking into the smithy’s broken body. Four shuddered and choked, quickly going silent. Tears leaked from the corners of Hyrule’s closed eyes as he continued pressing everything he had into Four in hopes of healing him.

“Oh…” Twilight murmured breathlessly. Hyrule didn’t dare turn around as more presences made themselves known around him. One got close, grabbing Four’s wrist, then pressing fingers against his neck.

“Four…” Sky whispered, voice breaking.

A gentle hand laid itself on the traveler’s shoulder. “Hyrule…” It was Twilight. “Hyrule, stop.”

Stop? Why would he stop? Four needed to be healed, and that’s what he was doing! If he stopped, then…

“Hyrule,” Twilight repeated, firmer this time. “Link. You need to stop. You can’t do anything.”

Hyrule froze. What? No, no, he could do something… the only way his magic wouldn’t help was if Four was already dead, and that couldn’t… no. He couldn’t be. Four wasn’t allowed to die, he wasn’t allowed to die! Nobody could die, no, none of them could die…

Heart pounding, Hyrule peeked his eyes open. Warriors was sitting on the smith’s other side, eyes solemn as he shook his head. Four was lying perfectly still, partially healed but not quite enough. It hadn’t been enough. He couldn’t save Four. Four was dead.

Hyrule screamed.

He screamed, sobbing as he collapsed onto the smithy’s still– too still – body. No, not body– Four’s corpse. Because Four was dead and Hyrule couldn’t save him and it just wasn’t enough no matter what he did. Maybe if he hadn’t wasted time searching for a pulse, maybe if his magic was stronger, maybe if Four hadn’t been cornered in the first place-

“Hyrule.” Twilight’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding him in a tight hug. “You did everything you could. It’s okay.”

It’s okay? It’s okay?! How could anything be okay?! One of them was dead on the ground and it was okay? Nothing was okay! How were they supposed to move on from this?

All that came out was a choked sob as Hyrule crumpled against Twilight’s chest, shaking with each pained cry. The rancher held him gently, rubbing the traveler’s back.

Time, Warriors, and Sky carefully wrapped up Four’s body, treating him with the utmost care and respect. Sky cried softly as he helped, and Time and Warriors’ eyes were misty as well. Wild and Legend had both disappeared somewhere, and Wind was just coming to.

“Here, Hyrule,” Twilight murmured, petting the brunette’s hair comfortingly. “Why don’t you help the sailor? Do you have enough magic left?”

Hyrule nodded miserably, hands glowing as he sobbed brokenly. Wind’s dazed expression dissipated as the magic flowed, healing his head injury with ease. At least he could do that… but it was too late for Four. The smithy was dead, wrapped up in his favorite blanket with all those colors on it. Almost like his tunic, Hyrule thought, sobbing weakly.

“Ughhh,” Wind groaned, holding a hand to his head. “What happened?”

Twilight stood up, leaving Hyrule to usher their youngest away. “Let’s talk,” the rancher said to Wind, dragging him away from the scene.

Now it was only Hyrule, Sky, Time, and Warriors. Well, and Four. But Four was-

“‘Rulie,” Sky sniffled, wrapping the traveler in a hug. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could’ve been here to help. You did your best… I’m so sorry!” The Skyloftian knight held Hyrule close as they cried together, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“I…” Warriors sighed, clearly upset despite his attempts to conceal it. “I guess I’ll go look for Champ and Vet.”

“Someone should stay here with…” Time grimaced, gesturing to the blanket wrap that held the smithy’s corpse. “You go on ahead, try to find them. We’ll search for a gravesite when all of us are together.”

“...Right.” Warriors ran off without another word, but his sobs were loud enough to hear anyway. Sky and Hyrule remained on the ground, clutching each other like their life depended on it. Time stood over Four’s body, closing his eye as he hung his head. It was clear the loss was taking a toll on all eight of them, but Hyrule was easily the most upset. He blamed himself, after all.

“You did your best…” Sky repeated, sniffling. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not any of our faults,” Time agreed. Sky and Hyrule glanced up at him with teary eyes. “We couldn’t have known. We… there was nothing we could do to stop it.” The Old Man sighed, shaking his head. “I never wanted to bury one of our own.”

“None of us do,” Twilight replied, expression solemn. Wind followed behind him, sniffling as he laid eyes on the small wrapped body.

“Four,” he whispered, jaw dropping as he stared, wide-eyed. “No, I- no.”

Sky opened his arm, scooting so there was more space. “C’mere.”

Wind fell to his knees, sobbing as he leaned into Sky and Hyrule. The three of them cried together while Twilight joined Time’s vigil over Four’s body. Warriors returned soon after with Wild and Legend, bringing their number back up to nine eight. Wild took one look at the blanket wrap before breaking down, sobbing into Twilight’s arms. Legend just stared numbly, expression unreadable.

“We should find somewhere to bury him,” Time murmured after a few minutes.

Warriors nodded. “We’ll have ourselves a little funeral. A… proper sendoff.”

“He wouldn’t’ve wanted anything fancy,” Wild added, voice breaking as he tried not to cry.

“I found a place.” Everyone turned to look at Legend, save for the three on the ground. The Vet’s expression remained emotionless as he stared at the body of his friend. “South from here. Bunch’a mushrooms and shit around.”

He would've liked it there went unsaid.

Time nodded, for once not bothering to correct the language. “We’ll check it out.”

They gathered their things, and Time carefully lifted Four’s body, draping him over his shoulder. Twilight carried Wild, and Warriors carried Wind. Sky helped Hyrule to his feet, offering a ride to the traveler as well. The kid was small enough to carry without much difficulty anyway, and he was extremely distraught by the day’s events (as the rest of them were).

So Time, Twilight, Warriors, Sky, and Legend walked south until they found a nice spot, setting their stuff up for the night. Hyrule and Wind were sent to bed (neither of them could sleep, but some rest would do them some good), Legend sat and stared at the campfire, and Wild made a spot for himself up in a tree. Sky sat near Legend, carving something, and Time, Warriors, and Twilight dug a hole.

As dusk approached, all eight of them gathered around the hole in the ground, around six feet deep but around four feet in length. No words passed between the eight remaining Links as Four’s body was lowered into the ground, buried with dirt until a small lump of raised ground was the only sign of their fallen comrade’s grave.

Wild approached silently, jamming a row of tied sticks in the dirt over Four’s head. He bowed his head, pressing a hand into the dirt sadly. When Wild retreated, Sky took his place, kneeling to the side of the grave to lay a small, wooden sword, carved by his own hand. It resembled Four’s weapon but with a small feather carved in the handle, nearly identical to the one the smithy had worn as an earring.

“We’ll miss you,” Sky whispered, closing his eyes as he lifted his face to the darkened sky. “Rest in peace, Link.”

Hyrule and Wind both wore miserable expressions, faces stained with tear tracks matching their red, puffy eyes. The pair clung to each other, doing their best to stifle any sobs. Legend’s facade had finally cracked, and his eyes were rimmed red as tears slipped silently down his cheeks. Warriors had shed a few tears as well, and Twilight was sniffling as he hugged Wild close. Time’s head was bowed, but a stray tear or two dripped off into the dirt below.

None of them could believe Four was really gone. They buried him, they mourned him, but it hadn’t actually set in yet. Denial hit hard among the remaining Heroes of Courage as they said their final goodbyes to one of their own.

They say it gets worse before it gets better, but it was hard to imagine things getting worse than this. Maybe they would never fully recover from losing Four. They would be forced to move on nevertheless. Fate was cruel in that way.

None of them slept a wink that night. Those who tried were quickly awoken by nightmares, forced to relive the death of their friend. The death of their brother. And, once sunrise was upon them, a portal appeared, forcing them to move on against their will. And once the last Link passed through, it closed, sealing Four away from them forever. The smithy was really, truly gone, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

Wind and Hyrule both blamed themselves. If Wind hadn’t gotten knocked out, if Hyrule had been faster, if someone had just been there to look out for Four-

There was no use dwelling on the past, no matter how painful it was. You can’t change the past. Nobody could change the past. Whatever happens happens and there’s nothing anyone can do to fix it.

Time pulled out his ocarina, smoothing his hand over it.

He covered the holes with his fingers, preparing for that first note.

He held the instrument up to his lips…

…and played the Song of Time.

–> support me on ao3!

[blazeeblake]

Somewhat inspired by something bringing up Joyce Summers, an alternative universe/episode/arc where the showrunner is still a bastard but we get a kinder(?), allegedly grounded in realism death for Bobby AND address Renter Eddie Diaz. Broad strokes that are mostly off the top of my head, so bear with me:

Episode Title: The Q Word

Eddie somehow (it's 9-1-1 so hand wave away any minor unlikelihoods) has a regular customer with his Uber driving and they become friends. He's always partying with a bunch of other guys and Eddie being Eddie thinks this dude is living the dream hanging out with the boys, no dating gumming up the works. The friend/regular invites him out and Eddie ends up at a gay bar. After the shock wears off, he and the friend have a talk and after some things are pointed out/brought up (Eddie hating the performance of dating, his past panic attacks, maybe even the circumstances leading to teenage fatherhood and young marriage) Eddie starts directly examining some stuff about himself. Surprisingly, he doesn't freak out, and with some gentle guidance he tries to soft launch not being straight by intentionally going back to the gay bar. Unfortunately, much like in 6x14 (complete with montage) he doesn't click with anyone. He talks to the friend again and maybe even thinks they got it all wrong with questioning his orientation, but the friend tells him its a spectrum, and that being queer (if that's what Eddie is), can mean very different things for different people; some folks are gay, some are bi, some might only feel something when they've already become close with a person ( ; ) ), but in any case he's not obligated to drill anything down or label into hard line specifics. Eddie seems visibly a bit dissatisfied but he shrugs it off. Not labeling things and not rocking the boat is fine with him, especially when he's focusing on his son and life is good. Cue a call from Buck the next day.

Meanwhile, in the other half of the plot, someone (maybe a snarky B shift person on the way home) has used the "Q" (quiet) word and the 118 has a nonstop series of calls that have low key/high key themes of endings or conclusions. This idea is less formed in my brain, but maybe emergencies happening at a retirement party where the honoree is uncertain about really being done, or a traffic accident where someone was driving their kid to college but having trouble letting go; just stuff where the trauma allows for an honest examination and acceptance that things are ending but also opening up for the future. All throughout, there's moments of the team stepping up in ways that don't necessarily sideline Bobby or make him obsolete, but show him that the team really has come a long way and, even outside of his depression last season, he wasn't wrong that they're reaching a point where they've grown beyond needing him as much. Buck is being reasonable and maybe even holding Ravi back from unnecessary risk taking; Hen is making tough, leadership adjacent judgement calls; Chimney is the one talking someone down in a really competent way. This time, he's not sad. He just feels proud and it shows, and after a family dinner at the end of a ridiculous day (where we get a moment of him telling the team he loves them, because I don't want Buck and the others to lose that declaration), he brings up retiring (or taking a job with less hands-on work) with Athena. She briefly looks concerned but he tells her that after almost dying [last season] he's not only certain of wanting to live but how he wants to live: making a home for the person who he found a home in when he was at his lowest, and letting his team see how far they can soar without him holding on. He's ready for something Quieter. It's emotional but not a red flag, so they kiss and go to bed happy. The next day, Athena goes to wake him up, maybe making a quip about not being retired yet, and he's died in his sleep.

Back in El Paso, seeing Buck on the caller ID, something clicks with Eddie and he suddenly understands where he falls on the spectrum of things. There's a beat where the realization hits and then turns into a kind of relieved contentment, and he seems settled when he answers the phone... Only for all of that to get shoved aside when he hears Buck sobbing on the other end of the line. End of episode.

To be clear, in my ideal scenario Bobby would live forever and I still hate everything about him being killed off in canon, but for some reason my brain conjured up a 'what if' unasked and I needed to write it down for sanity's sake.

Wishing y'all good luck with actual viewing tonight and a very merry go to hell, Tim.

[thejedifairy]

Rex x Reader - Plants

I have no idea how any of you manage to write with such restraint, this was only meant to be a "short" fic and the next thing I know I'm 4.2k words in. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it :)

“You need to stand aside (Y/N)” Rex commanded as he stared down at you. He stood to his full height, his face a mask of neutrality; one that he always wore when he played the role of Captain when he was not on the battlefield. In his hands, a holopad replaced his helmet. It was primed and ready to take notes and tick off his checklist. Not at all like the soft smiling, easy-going Captain who made your heart flutter when his eyes found yours, no this time business was calling and the battlehardened solider would answer it.

You took a wide stance while you held your hands out across the door frame trying your best to bar access to the Captain as you pleaded your defence “I don’t understand! I am exempt from room searches, please this was an agreement by the General”

“Unfortunately, not this time” He countered “All rooms must be searched by order of the General regardless if you are a soldier or not. Sorry, but you must stand aside” Despite his apologetic tone he still held firm with his command and gestured you to move out of the way.

Due to your position as a civilian medical officer onboard the General Skywalker flagship The Resolute. You were given certain perks alongside accommodation in the barracks on Coruscant; as you held no other dwelling on the planet this was beneficial for you. You got a roof over your head, three square meals a day and in return, they got a full-time medic who was never far at hand should you be needed. This also allowed you to continue any ongoing treatment of any clone after they return planetside. Due to your accommodation being classed as your home, you were exempt from the routine inspections. This of course could be overruled in times of need such as when a potential spy has infiltrated the barracks and was in hiding. You were entirely confident that if this was the reason for the search, your room was in the clear as you would have noticed someone in your room. With this in mind, you took a deep breath and stood your ground.

“(Y/N) If you have nothing to hide, then you have nothing to worry about. Though if someone inside or outside the barracks has given you something to hide, then if you tell me now you wouldn’t be held responsible” You looked over Rex’s shoulder to see the rest of his squad standing at attention outside their respective rooms waiting for the inspection to be over. You caught a few sideline glances and furrowed brows as they watched you openly defy Rex for the first time.

While you knew that you held nothing of that nature, nor were you naive enough to be used in such a manner. Your room would be classed as a potential breach in health and safety and your judgement and suitability of your position of medic of the clones could be called into question. You would be ordered to remove it all, pack your belongings and move to a different sector and you couldn’t bear the thought of following through with such a thing let alone a command to do it.

Shaking your head, you tried once more to convince him “I am not hiding anything of the sort, please Rex you have to believe me, I…. have personal items out .. that would not be ideal for you to see” he brown eyes bore into your own as his brow was raised in question. You hoped he believed the lie, that he would become uncomfortable with his thoughts as they delved into what the personal items could be. That he would let out a deep sigh and let the inspection pass.

A deep sigh you got, though his words only made your stomach sink “I’ll ask once more, step aside” Feeling a gentle yet firm hand on your shoulder, you looked up to notice Echo who gave you a small yet concerned smile. You knew refusing a command would only be another way for you to be disciplined; civilian or not you could only stand your ground so much before it became insubordination. You barely gave any resistance when he tugged you out of the way to allow Rex to proceed forward.

Once you were no longer obstructing his way, Rex used his master code and opened the door. The light brightness level increased automatically as they detected the movement of him entering you could hear an audible “Uhhhh” from the no doubt confused Captain.

“I can explain!” You were quick to shrug off Echo’s hand before you leapt forward to begin to plead your case.

A gasp left your lips as you rounded the door, seeing Rex roughly grab a plant off the wall and hold it up for inspection. “Careful that’s Boils!” you scolded him, snatching the pot and replacing it gently back, your finger lingering on the ceramic.

“(Y/N) What is all this?” You forced yourself to look up, watching him take in your room, though you were sure “Greenhouse” would now be a better name for it. Your space was engulfed by potted plants of all varieties and colours. Long since the steel walls of your room have been devoured by the many shelves of plants whose leaves and flowers stretched the length of the walls. When the shelves could hold no more, you move to the ceilings where several plants hung. They hung at haphazard heights, enough that it would become a head collision danger for anyone else in the barracks should they walk in. Though your small frame proved no concern. You may have gone too far with your collection, as your floor had slowly disappeared and your desk was no longer in use for its intended purpose.

A low whistle made both of you turn towards the door. Clearly, your room was far too interesting for them to continue following their orders of standing attention at their doors. “That… is a lot … of plants” Fives exclaimed as his wide eyes tried to take in everything at once.

“How do you not trip?” Jesse asked as he slowly shuffled into your room, carefully trying to avoid the obstacle course of flora.

Taking a deep breath you turned to answer Rex, the truth has to come out eventually and you should be more surprised it was later rather than sooner considering how much you had in here. “They are honourings… I guess? Shrines? Maybe” You looked around at them all, not failing to notice everyone's attention was on you. You clasped your hands behind your back, hoping that you did not fidget too much under their stares.

“Shrines?” Rex asked as he broke his intense study of one of your hanging plants to turn his attention to you.

Taking a deep breath you met the captain's eyes straight on “For the ones who have fallen” That had his attention. He stood patiently in silence waiting for you to continue. You gestured to the plant with yellow strips decorated on its pot, the one Rex had first picked up. “That is for Boil” Then you pointed to the adjacent pot with the same colours but contrasting pattern “ And that one is for Waxer”

You took a small step over towards a larger succulent plant in a plain white vase “That’s for Hevy and the others that were lost at the outpost” A small sad smile graced your lips as you watched both Echo’s and Fives softened as they both looked at the plant, then to each other.

“You can’t do this, it’s -” Rex started with his voice raised, ready to scold you before you interjected, “I know!” You took a deep breath before continuing “I know, but I was not born a soldier or a Jedi, Rex! I’m a healer and I wasn’t there to save these men, I could not heal them. The one thing I could do and I failed! I cannot live knowing that these men that I cared for are gone and all that is left of them is their numbers in a log somewhere to be part of statistics. I couldn’t say goodbye.” You met Rex’s eyes in a bold defiant gaze “This” You gestured around the room “Was the only way I knew how to cope, that as long as there was something here for them to be remembered by then I would be okay.” your eyesight became blurry as the tears began to well in your eyes, “ It started as one, then two and then it just spiralled! There's too many gone Rex! I’ve lost count” You choked back a sob as the tears rolled down your cheeks to splatter on the floor at your feet, and you furiously wiped them away with the sleeve of your shirt. You didn’t trust yourself to say anymore, if you had, you have no doubt you would break down sobbing in front of them all and that would very much be the end of your career.

“I know it’s against the rules, you shouldn’t get attached in wartime. But they deserved more!” You ran the sleeve across your nose once more before you slunk back onto your bed. You grabbed one of the multiple pillows and hugged it close to your body, seeking the little comfort it gave you.

“Please don't make me get rid of them” you begged once more, Rex stood there looking defeated. “They don't deserve to be forgotten, they all deserved so much more” You squeezed the pillow tighter, hoping to squeeze the excess sadness from you. How you wished it was someone else, to feel their strength and warmth as they held you just as strongly.

The silence was deafening, you didn’t know if you should speak up or remain quiet. What else could you say? You’ve explained yourself the best you could, defended your actions and were truthful. You could only hope that Rex’s punishment and report would not be as damaging to you as you feared.

A deep sigh from the captain broke you out of your thoughts, you looked up and watched him pinch the bridge of his nose. “How many are there?” he asked finally, turning to look at you.

“About 230?” shrugging your shoulders at the number. You weren’t too sure how many they were anymore, they kept increasing far quicker than you could keep track, though you made a mental note to recount. Gesturing with your head over to three large vases that held palms, that sat by the door “Those are for the big battles, the ones were an accurate account of who was dead or missing were incomplete, so I guess the number could be higher”

Rex moved to kneel in front of you, “Look it’s not wrong to mourn the soldiers we have lost” Rex said, his hand hovered above your knee like he was going to rest his hand there but decided against it “It’s comforting knowing that they will not be forgotten especially by someone other than us” you heard the hesitation in his voice it felt like he wanted to say more about it but he remains silent. You knew the dreaded ‘But’ was coming. “But this is against the fire safety regulations” You closed your eyes at the words as you exhaled the breath you didn’t know you were holding “So how about we move some of the larger ones into the communal room for this squad” you snapped your eyes opened and fixated your disbelieving stare on the man in front of you “That way you can keep them all but we won't be breaking the rules” you felt the corner of your lips twitch into a smile as you nodded your head in agreement.

Just as Rex rose to stand, you reached out to grab the back of his plastoid armour. Snapping his head around at the sudden touch, his brow rose in question “But that would take up everyone else space too” You looked past him to the clone's small communal space which held only a small table and L-shaped booth, and alongside one wall held a counter top, small communal fridge and cafe machine. They already complained about the lack of space as it was, which is why they all agreed to keep their items in their rooms.

A loud clap rang out through the room, you turned your head to watch Five stand up from his crouched position, rubbing his hands together “I think that is a brilliant idea, Captain! The communal room needs a little bit of colour” Fives spoke loudly as he looked at each of his brothers, giving them a knowing nod of encouragement.

“Having some little old natural oxygen refreshers would be good” Jesse added with a smile.

Echo slapped a hand off Jesse’s pauldron “ I was just thinking about where we can find some shelving units! Get a few of them up and we will have plenty of space to work with”

With everyone on board with the plant's relocation, you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips. Rex informed you, that you had the rest of the day to clear the floor and desk of your plants. The hanging plants had to be tightened or hung in the communal room. The rest could remain as they were.

You were bombarded with questions as the boys helped you move the plants. They wanted to know which plant represented which brother, how you even managed to get all of the plants into your room without them noticing, how you kept this a secret as long as you did, they saw you coming in and out of your room most of the time, how did they not see the forest behind you?

When they found that some vases were blank, they shared stories of that brother if they knew them, coming up with ideas on how to decorate the ceramic to make it reflect the personality of the clone it was for.

Several hours have passed since the orders were given, and you did not doubt that the sun had long since set. Yet Rex returned to see your progress. You were more than happy to report that your floor was clear, you have a work desk again and no longer will anyone be knocking their heads on your hanging plants. The communal room had gone from a drab and dull metallic grey to an assortment of budding flowers. The main table now had a lovely blue flowering centrepiece. Rex gave you a smile and a nod in approval. You could only smile with pride at his response.

You were roused from your sleep by a light rapping knock on your door. It was so quiet that you weren’t entirely sure if was even real. Pushing yourself up onto your arms, you rolled your head towards the door waiting to see if the knock would come again. Only silence followed.

Just as you were going to snuggle yourself back down into your duvet, an even softer knock came again like the person was reluctant to wake you. With a deep inhale that quickly turned into a yawn, you pushed the covers off your body and quietly padded your way over to the door.

You were intrigued to find out who wanted to speak to you so late in the night, if it was an emergency you had no doubt the knock would have come in a frantic loud manner that would have woken the entire squad. Once the door slid open, you were surprised to find no one there.

Poking your head around the door, you scanned the dark room before you. You narrowed your eyes on a silhouette that was trying to disappear into the captain's quarters.

“Rex?” you called sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you tried to wake yourself up. “You okay? Did you knock?”

The dark form turned slowly towards you, “Ah yes” You watched as his hand melted into his head, you guessed was him rubbing his neck as he does when he gets flustered. “Sorry to wake you. I wanted to speak with you if that is okay?” Another yawn escaped you as you watched the Captain make his way over to you.

You felt your brows furrowed together at his request “At this time in the morning?” you questioned.

“Sor- sorry, you’re right I shouldn’t have woken you up, forgive me” he whispered, hands open in a placating manner as he tried to further show how apologetic he was.

“Nonsense” You waved your hand at him dismissively “I’m awake now. What did you want to speak to me about?” you tucked your hands under your arm as you tried to keep yourself warm, only noticing how cool the communal room was compared to yours.

You beckoned with a tilt of your head for him to follow you into your room before he had the chance to say anything, you turned on your heel and began to walk. Trusting that he would follow you.

Rex has always amazed you. He remains calm and collected no matter what gets thrown at him. How he remains so strong and reassuring when there are so many dead or injured surrounding him. In the heat of battle, he's decisive and unwavering, everything could be falling apart or exploding around on the battlefield and you are often at first scared but you know if you look up and find the Jaig eyes. Well, then you know everything will be okay. No matter what happens. You don’t think anything could phase him, well except the times when he's been thrown off, up or across battlefields by his Jedi but even then, he straightens himself up and it's back to work.

But now as you flopped onto your bed, you watched the captain for the first time stand awkwardly in your doorway. He looked behind him as if he was debating backing out and bidding you good night. “Rex? You okay? You can come in” you softly told him.

You heard the captain take a deep breath in, watching his fingers clench into fists before he exhaled slowly and allowed his fingers to relax back to his side. With what seemed to be a restrengthen resolve, Rex walked into your room the door sliding shut with a hiss behind him.

“ I wanted to thank you,��� he said as he sheepishly as he made his way over to your bed all the while you looked at him in surprise.

“For what?” you asked, curious.

“For the plants, It was greatly appreciated by not only the boys but me that there is someone out there who cares for us” He sat next to you. “That you honour us in death with life” You sat up straight and moved to sit closer, once you realised your thighs were pressed up against each other you went to move yours away. Just as you went to apologise for touching him, you felt him press his thigh back against yours. You smiled at the closeness.

“I’m glad that there is something more to remember us than our numbers scratched into a chunk of stone outside our front door” You felt your chest tighten at his words. You knew that some of the boys were quietly unpleased with how their brothers were quickly forgotten once they had fallen in battle. After so many rotations, a generalised eulogy was given to the masses by the senate. Nothing personal, nothing specifically about one man or a squadron's heroic actions that allowed the path of victory to be forged that day, that was left up to their commanders or Generals.

You didn’t know what to say, and Rex didn’t seem to mind as you both fell into a comfortable silence.

It only dawned on you that you hadn’t thanked the men for their efforts or actions for a second time. Sure you did it the first time round but you never told them how much you appreciated them, appreciated him. There was no better time than the present

“Rex,” you said softly, gently taking his hand in yours. He looked at you surprised at the sudden contact. “Thank you for everything you do, thank you for saving my life on the battlefield”

“Battlefield? But the last I did that was several battles ago, I -” The Captain injected confused at your sudden change in topic.

You rose to press your fingertips to his lips “Please allow me to finish. Thank you for being there for me, no matter the time of day, come sun or moon you are there to chat, to listen! Despite what might be going on with you, there's never a time when you haven’t been there for me. I haven’t told you how brilliant you are! How I strive to be calm and dependable and headstrong as you!” Placing your hands on his shoulders, you gripped them lightly as you felt so much energy building in you, demanding you to tell the Captain all your thoughts and feelings for him. To make sure he understood how special he was and how much better he has made your life.

He only looked at you with wide eyes as you continued your declaration “By the maker Rex! I don’t even have the words to explain how fantastic?. Amazing? The life-changing person you are! I feel like I am repeating myself but I look at you and if I am scared or worried about what may come; be it on the battlefield or in the med bay, If I look over my shoulder and I see you there I know no matter what comes next I can overcome it! How you look after your men, you are a beacon in the dark. The way you inspire them, you have created such a bond and a level with the 501st that any other unit would be jealous. You don’t let it get boost your ego, you are this charming, humble, attractive man who just kicks ass! You’re just perfect!” You didn’t even realise you had begun shaking the Captain, whose eyebrows were raised and eyes had widened even further as he stared at you, his mouth slightly agape. You don’t think you've ever seen him look quite as shocked.

Quickly you released him. Realising you haven’t touched the man so much before unless you were wrestling him onto the med table to inspect his wounds when he was demanding you to take care of the men first. “Sorry” Taking a deep breath you calmed your budding emotions. Keeping your eyes on your fumbling fingers as they pluck at the sleeves of your pyjamas. You dare not look up, worried you have overstepped his boundaries.

If you had looked up, you would have probably seen the captain's deep blush even in the dark. The way his large gloved hands shook slightly as they hoovered centimetres from your face. To sit there and say that those words did not light a fire in his heart would be a lie. He was suddenly overwhelmed with a desperate feeling to touch you, he always had a desire to cup your face; to press his head to yours and then if you would allow it, for him to steal a kiss.

Never before has he heard such words come from anyone. To see such emotion pour forth from someone like you. He knew you cared for the men but never had he thought you had such feelings beneath the surface, especially for him. In one day he has heard, seen and felt your feelings for him and his men than he has in his short lifetime; and for the first time, he didn’t know what to do next.

He wanted to touch you that much he knew, to hold you close and show you just how much he cares for you.

Once more he strengthened his resolve, allowing his fingertips to graze your cheek. Flickering your eyes up to meet his, surprised that he wanted to touch you and hopeful that he wanted to do more than caress your cheek. Though you happily nuzzled your face into his hand, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth radiating from the contact.

“Y/N?”

“Hmmmm” you answered his softly spoken question.

“May I kiss you?” feeling the corner of your lips curl up into a small smile “I would like that very much captain”

Slowly he leaned forward as if giving you a second chance to change your mind. Instead, you met him halfway. At first, it was a brush of lips before you both gained confidence and pressed a little harder. His lips were soft and warm, and you felt the butterflies erupt in your stomach and sent a tingly wave over your skin.

Pulling back ever so slightly, you rested your forehead on his. Catching your breath in the excitement of sharing your first kiss. Summoning your own courage you whispered your question “Would you stay the night?” a small chuckle escaped his lips again, you realised just how your question sounded and quickly rushed to further explain “Nothing sexual just lie with me?”

He leaned forward the extra millimetre to close the gap once more and captured your lips in another short kiss. “I would like that very much” Your heart swelled at his answer.

[dog-braces]

Bouncing Back: How a Dog Knee Brace Saved Max’s Wagging Tail

Max, a lively golden retriever, loved chasing squirrels in his backyard. But one day, his playful sprints ended with a sharp yelp. He limped back to his owner, Sarah, with his tail drooping. A trip to the vet revealed a torn cranial cruciate ligament (CCL)—the canine equivalent of a human ACL injury. Surgery was an option, but the vet also mentioned something Sarah had never considered: a dog knee brace. That suggestion changed everything for Max.

Understanding the Need for Dog Knee Braces

It’s easy to overlook how common knee injuries are in dogs. Studies suggest that nearly 1 in 5 dogs will experience some form of joint or mobility issue during their lifetime. CCL injuries are among the most frequent, especially in active or large breeds like Labradors and German Shepherds. While surgery is often the go-to solution, not every dog—or owner—is ready for the cost, risks, or recovery time.

This is where dog knee braces come in. They offer a non-invasive way to stabilize the joint, reduce pain, and promote healing, giving dogs like Max a second chance to enjoy their favorite activities.

The Science Behind Knee Braces for Dogs

Dog braces work by limiting the knee’s range of motion, which reduces strain on the injured ligament. This stability allows scar tissue to form and strengthen the area over time. Custom braces, tailored to a dog’s unique anatomy, offer even greater effectiveness compared to generic off-the-shelf options.

A study by the Veterinary Orthopedic Society found that over 80% of dogs using knee braces experienced significant improvement in mobility within 6 months. For many, a brace can delay or even eliminate the need for surgery.

Why Aren’t We Talking About This More?

Most websites and even some vets focus heavily on surgical options, often sidelining the role of braces. What they don’t tell you is that knee braces are a particularly great option for:

Senior dogs: Older pups may struggle to recover from surgery due to age-related health concerns. A brace provides a gentle alternative.

Post-surgery support: Even after surgery, a brace can protect the joint during the critical recovery phase, preventing re-injury.

Cost-conscious owners: Surgery for a CCL tear can cost anywhere between $3,500 to $5,000, while a high-quality custom dog knee brace is often a fraction of that cost.

Choosing the Right Brace for Your Dog

When considering a knee brace for your dog, look for one that offers:

Custom fit: This ensures maximum comfort and effectiveness.

Durable materials: Dogs are active creatures, so the brace should withstand daily wear and tear.

Veterinary approval: Always consult your vet to ensure the brace is appropriate for your dog’s specific condition.

Max’s Happy Ending

With the help of a custom dog knee brace, Max was back to his old self in just a few months. The brace gave his injured knee the support it needed to heal while allowing him to enjoy gentle walks and even some playful squirrel chases. Sarah, relieved and grateful, couldn’t believe such a simple solution could make such a big difference.

Final Thoughts

If your furry friend is struggling with knee issues, a dog knee brace could be the game-changer you’ve been searching for. Whether it’s a preventive measure, a post-surgery aid, or a non-surgical alternative, these braces provide dogs the freedom to move and owners the joy of seeing their pets happy again.

Sources:

Veterinary Orthopedic Society Study on Non-Surgical CCL Management

American College of Veterinary Surgeons on CCL Injuries

Personal stories shared by pet owners on Reddit and veterinary forums.

[inspirdg-shop]

Ohio State x Hello Kitty 2024 Football Jersey

Product link:https://inspirdg.com/product/ohio-state-x-hello-kitty-2024-football-jersey/

Store link:https://inspirdg.com/

Ohio State x Hello Kitty 2024 Football Jersey: A Perfect Harmony of Athletic Pride and Iconic Cuteness

A Blend of Toughness and Playfulness

At first glance, this jersey embodies the toughness that Ohio State football represents. The traditional scarlet and grey colors of Ohio State are prominent, reinforcing the school’s identity and athletic history. However, the addition of Hello Kitty adds a surprising yet whimsical element to the design. The contrast between the aggressive, gritty nature of football and the gentle, playful Hello Kitty creates a balance that is as fascinating as it is endearing.

The front of the jersey showcases the classic Ohio State logo, emblazoned across the chest in bold lettering. This serves as a proud statement of school spirit and allegiance. But what makes this jersey truly unique is the appearance of Hello Kitty in full football gear — donning a scarlet jersey, helmet, and even holding a football. The small yet powerful details in Hello Kitty’s representation are striking: the Ohio State “Block O” helmet, the cute pink bow she wears with pride, and the football cradled in her paws. She’s not just standing on the sidelines; she’s ready to play.

Design That Pops

The color palette of this jersey is another element worth celebrating. While Ohio State’s signature scarlet and grey are present, the soft pastel pinks incorporated into the jersey’s design pay homage to Hello Kitty’s sweet and iconic aesthetic. The pink, however, is not just a casual addition — it’s integrated seamlessly into the jersey, enhancing its visual appeal without overpowering the Ohio State identity.

On the back of the jersey, Hello Kitty takes center stage, striking a pose that captures both her signature charm and her readiness to compete. The use of Hello Kitty as the focal point on the back adds a level of fun and personality that traditional sports jerseys often lack. This jersey isn’t just about showing support for Ohio State; it’s about making a bold statement that you don’t have to choose between toughness and cuteness.

The design also features the Nike swoosh, adding a layer of athletic authenticity to the overall look. Known for their high-performance sportswear, Nike’s presence on the jersey guarantees that this piece isn’t just for show — it’s made with the quality and craftsmanship that fans have come to expect from their products.

Functionality Meets Fashion

Beyond its undeniable charm, the Ohio State x Hello Kitty 2024 Football Jersey doesn’t compromise on functionality. Made with breathable, high-quality materials, it offers comfort and durability that can withstand game-day excitement or casual wear. The fabric allows for excellent ventilation, ensuring that even on the most intense days — whether you’re cheering from the stands or watching from home — you remain comfortable and cool.

The jersey’s cut is designed for a modern fit that suits a variety of body types. Whether you’re layering it over other clothing or wearing it as a standalone piece, the jersey offers both flexibility and style. The v-neck collar adds a sporty touch, while the bright colors ensure that you’ll stand out in a crowd of more traditional team gear.

It’s clear that this jersey was crafted with the intention of merging fandoms and providing something special for those who want to express their love for both Ohio State and Hello Kitty. It’s more than just a jersey — it’s a fashion statement, a conversation starter, and a celebration of pop culture.

Cultural Impact and Significance

What makes the Ohio State x Hello Kitty 2024 Football Jersey so culturally relevant is the way it bridges two seemingly distant worlds: the realm of American football and the international appeal of Hello Kitty. Football, often seen as a sport rooted in strength, competition, and tradition, is paired with Hello Kitty, a symbol of cuteness, kindness, and simplicity. This unlikely collaboration represents a shift in how we view fan merchandise, making room for more inclusivity, creativity, and fun in an industry that has often been dominated by traditional masculinity.

This jersey is also a testament to the evolution of fashion within sports. It appeals not only to hardcore football fans but also to those who may have previously felt disconnected from sports culture. Hello Kitty’s involvement opens the door to a wider demographic, attracting both young and old, male and female, sports fans and pop culture enthusiasts alike. It’s a product that challenges the idea that sports apparel should be limited to a specific audience.

Furthermore, this collaboration speaks to the growing trend of merging entertainment with athletics. As pop culture continues to intersect with sports, we’re seeing more partnerships like this that celebrate the diversity of fan interests. The Ohio State x Hello Kitty 2024 Football Jersey represents a future where sports merchandise doesn’t have to fit into a single mold — where individuality and creativity are embraced.

A Must-Have for Fans and Collectors

For die-hard Ohio State fans, this jersey offers a fresh take on traditional team apparel. It’s a fun, lighthearted addition to their game-day wardrobe and a perfect way to stand out from the crowd. Whether they’re tailgating before a big game or watching from the comfort of home, fans will love the playful twist on their school’s iconic gear.

Hello Kitty enthusiasts, on the other hand, will be delighted to see their favorite character in a completely new setting. For collectors of Hello Kitty merchandise, this jersey is a unique piece that adds variety to their collection. It’s a reminder that Hello Kitty’s appeal knows no bounds — she’s versatile, timeless, and beloved across the globe.

As a gift, this jersey is perfect for fans of either Ohio State football or Hello Kitty, but it also works for anyone who appreciates quirky, well-designed apparel. It’s the type of product that elicits smiles and sparks conversations, making it a thoughtful and fun present for sports and pop culture lovers alike.

Conclusion: The Ultimate Fusion of Spirit and Style

In conclusion, the Ohio State x Hello Kitty 2024 Football Jersey is a remarkable fusion of two iconic brands. It successfully merges the competitive energy of Ohio State football with the enduring cuteness of Hello Kitty, creating a product that transcends the boundaries of traditional sports merchandise. The vibrant colors, playful design, and quality craftsmanship make it a standout piece that appeals to a wide audience.

This jersey isn’t just for football fans or Hello Kitty collectors — it’s for anyone who wants to celebrate individuality, creativity, and the beauty of combining two worlds. With its perfect blend of athletic pride and pop culture charm, the Ohio State x Hello Kitty 2024 Football Jersey is sure to be a hit for years to come.

[mmxstrangers]

Once the song ended, Ferris let out a bout of laughter at Ody's hip-check. "Guess I need to listen to music more often. I might take you up on the offer to do karaoke sometime after all!"

Squish reared up on his hind legs and stood on them, letting out a happy squeak at Ody while his tail wagged rather fast. That was so much fun! He looked like he wanted to dance to another one.

Serta blinked at Ody's smirk, not expecting himself to be the next target she was aiming for. Ferris snickered behind her hand. Squish was back on all fours, smiling up to Serta and looking over to Ody curiously. What would she play next?

Ferris and Squish watched as Ody went over and held onto Serta's hands, pulling him up to his feet. Ferris was fascinated by what was happening while also giggling behind her hand - for once, Serta would be getting off of his big butt and doing something. How exciting! Squish just tilted his head, wondering about the sudden change of pace with the music choice.

The taurloid himself was caught off-guard, seeing that Ferris's friend decided to approach him and pull him up for a dance. No one had ever done something like this before - but thankfully, he recognized what she was doing. He was happy to let her take the lead and gently held onto her.

While his footsteps were uncertain at first, the slower pace allowed him to figure out his footing - more confidently sweeping around the room with her, his tail brushing the floor at the bigger turns.

Serta paused when Ody broke off and pushed Ferris towards him, but lightly chuckled at that. Ferris herself froze in place and looked uncertain of how to move forward. Much like what Ody did with him, he did to Ferris - he moved in and put her hands where they needed to be, somehow interlocking their hands together while Ferris tried to remember how Ody's feet moved. Together, they settled into a pace of slower spins around the room.

Squish looked up from the sidelines, listening to the music ebb and swell. He seemed fascinated by the sounds he was hearing mix together as harmoniously as they did.

When the music closed out, Ferris pulled away and looked up to Ody, clapping her hands. "YES girl! I love your singing! Rather grim lyrics the longer you think on them though. Didn't take you for the kind of person who would go for this kind of music, either." Serta had a gentle smile on his face - perhaps the happiest he's looked all night so far. "... That was lovely," he commented, "Not so common to hear orchestrated music like that."

This right here was what she wanted them to experience. The difference between just being linemates and being brothers and sister. As far a she was concerned it was small moments like this that were worth more than anything in the world. Tiny moments of joy that could be looked back on.

Ody laughed along with them while keeping a pace the pair could follow more easily. The joy that was exuding from Ferris had her clapping for her friend. “You’re a natural Ferris!” she complimented over the music.

She cast a bright smile down to the little one who was dancing alongside them, “You too Squish! Keep it up!”

When the song faded out she couldnt help but giggle and bump her hip into Ferris’. “Look at you! Hiding all that rhythm!”

“Alright, wanted to hear one of my favorites.”

A moment was taken to glance around the partially constructed space before she glanced over at Serta thoughtfully. It should be big enough.

She flashed a smirk towards Serta, “Don’t think youre getting away with just sitting in a corner thumping your tail to the beat.”

A new song started to play this one starting with slow chimes and gentle beat that slowly swelled into gentle orchestral crescendo ((Song)). As it started she made her way to Serta’s front, taking his hands and pulling until he got up to his feet. Her fingers laced in left hand while she moved his right arm behind her back. As the song started in earnest she started to lead him in simple waltz with slow sweeping circles that filled the space.

At around the middle mark of the song she broke away from Serta and shoved Ferris into her brother to finish off the rest of the dance. She left them to walk up a stack of support beams. There was no holding back her smile as she watched what they would do from above. This was all too much fun.

When the final chorus started to rise with the rolling drums that ushered in the orchestral swell she couldnt help but loudly sing out the words from her perch.

“But if you close your eyes, Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes, Does it almost feel like you’ve been here before? How am I gonna be an optimist about this? How am I gonna be an optimist about this? If you close your eyes!”

“How am I gonna be an optimist about this? How am I gonna be an optimist about this?”

When everything slowed back to silence she sat down on the beams, looking down with a smile. “Well what did you think of it?”