#god knows when i'll get over this panel

[rustedhearts]

crush (college!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: academic distraction comes in the form of one tall, handsome brunet named steve.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the scholar stud masterlist ✶ main masterlist

tags: college!steve, college!reader, fluff, a little cringe sometimes, steve's a cocky douche, smut!! silly ending because i just wanted to finish it.

a/n: why, yes. the notorious college steve has returned for this one day. i hope you enjoy his rebirth.

somewhere in indiana, october 1988. tillman university.

"And that concludes today's class. Folks, don't forget the exam tomorrow, bright and early eight a.m—"

The shuffle of notebooks and folders being swept from plastic desks drowned out the bellow of Professor Brown's instructions as the class scurried to leave. Everyone knew the pub just on the edge of campus was hosting 'Beer Olympics' tonight, and most of your classmates couldn't risk losing out on even one moment in that sticky, wood-paneled bar.

Including the handsome, silky-haired Steve Harrington, who sat in front of you and chewed on his pen for the entire hour of English 231: British Literature. At first, the incessant clicking of teeth against plastic and ink drove you insane.

But once, he whirled around when the cap went flying and landed on your desk, and the smile he passed you seemed sweet and bashful. The rosiness on his cheeks pretty, the hazel of his eyes against the fluorescents dreamy. He started murmuring to you during class discussions, begging for explanations on 'what the hell that Shakespeare guy was talking about.'

Steve Harrington might've shared a love for the stupid and the insane like the rest of the population on Tillman's campus, but he had the good grace to display it such a wonderful way that you didn't even mind.

You shuffled back to your dorm, bundled in a scarf and wool-lined coat, prepared to settle cozily into bed and study for tomorrow's test—your roommate, however, had other ideas.

"I need you to come with me," she whined as you removed your layers and tossed them on the bed. "This is my one chance for James to see how hot I am."

A cackle shot from your mouth, though you softened to pity as your roommate's shoulders drooped. James was her very own Steve: handsome, a year or two her senior, and a complete academic distraction. Her attempts to get his attention have lengthened weeks now, but all to no avail.

"I don't know...I have an exam tomorrow—"

"Oh, God, please," she groaned, falling back on her bed across the room. The springs yipped. "Chaucer is more important than the state of my love life?"

"What is the state of your love life?"

"Dead!"

You bit back a grin, swallowing all amusement when your roommate rolled onto her side and frowned at you. Like a little sister begging to be included, she rounded her eyes and jutted her lip.

"C'mon, please?" she whined. "You can bring your stuff to study, I'm sure there's a quiet corner. They have food, too! Come on, I'll buy you shitty bar wings!"

Eyeing her weepy, desperate eyes and your piles of highlighted notes, you mulled over the options with half-hearted sincerity. You were 95% sure you would ace this exam tomorrow, and the study session was for 'just in case.' Who were you to stand in the way of your roommate's apparent true love?

"And onion rings," you added.

Bouncing into a seated position, your roommate beamed and clapped her hands together sharply. "Anything."

✶ ✶

"Okay, here." Two plastic baskets of sticky barbecue wings and crispy, golden onion rings slid your way across a poorly-cleaned wooden hightop. "Are you good by yourself over here? I saw James by the pool table."

Grinning like a toddler with a treat, you reached for a wing with gentle fingers and nodded. "Yep, I'm perfect. Go get your man!"

Relief flooded her features, all dolled up and sparkly. She popped a quick kiss to your cheek and spun around, sweeping a hand over her hair to tame the frizz.

"Okay, I'm going in."

You watched her trot away in heels she could barely squeeze into with a giggle. She eased her way into a group of people near the pool table, lingering close enough to the blond-haired James without seeming desperate. You'd seen your roommate dizzy-headed around plenty of men before, but James turned her into something else.

The corner she found you was as quiet as a bar corner could be at eight o'clock on the night of a campus-wide event. Purses and backpacks piled in the corner of your booth, potently scented with sweet perfume and cigarette smoke. The lights were low back here, and most of your notes came scanned in the neon blue glow of the Budweiser sign hanging behind your head. Once your eyes adjusted to the hue, and the rowdy buzz of your peers faded away, you honestly found enjoyment in your little corner.

Until—

"Well hello, Oh studious one," a voice bellowed over the noise. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Steve Harrington, handsome, pink-cheeked, and a little bleary-eyed, sauntered toward your table with a beer in hand. He bent over your textbook, elbows creasing the onion skin pages, and flashed you a sideways grin. You thanked the blue lights for concealing the heat in your face.

"I'm quite surprising."

He chuckled, condensation dripping from the amber bottle in hand when he pointed the mouth of it toward the contents of your table. "And you're...reading. At a bar."

You clicked your pen, swiping a lukewarm onion ring from its basket. "I'm studying for our test tomorrow."

Steve lifted his gaze from the book, returning it to your face—his own blank and thoughtless. He's slow to lift the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth, and the swig he takes comes with furrowed brows.

The bottle pops away with a sharp release of suction. "Test?"

Giggling, you slap your hand onto your book. "Are you serious? Professor Brown just told us about it, like, four hours ago."

Steve straightened up, removing himself from your book. A large hand swept over the top of his hair, darkened with dampness from the exertion of Beer Olympic seriousness.

"Ohhh, that test," he snarked. "The test on...."

He trailed so far you worried he'd get lost, and as you tipped your chin down and fixed him with an incredulous look, you had mercy on him. "Chaucer."

Steve blinked again, eyes as glazed over and empty as a doe's. "Who?"

You succumbed to your amusement, a chorus of giggles bubbling over. "You're helpless."

Steve shrugged, cheek meeting his shoulder with an air of coolness. His body tipped sideways, one elbow returning to its place on your wrinkled pages to lean his weight on the table.

"Maybe so."

You took a small bite of your onion ring, which had lost all its crisp, and took your turn to blink blankly. But the boy was patient, knuckles rapping on the table in an offbeat tune as you lingered in the pause. Finally, overcome by his own impatience, Steve set his bottle on the table and slid even closer. You could feel the warmth of his body, exuding alcohol-laced sweat and a back alley cigarette soaked into the dampness of his t-shirt. Black cotton, thinned with sweat, drenched in leathery cologne applied hours ago.

"Maybe...you could help me then," he suggested, tone sauced with boyish charm.

Heat flooded your face like a dam bursting, rushing like a hot-blooded throb. You shifted on the sticky booth, boots clunking together beneath the table. The bits of soggy breading balled in your throat.

"I—" You swallowed, hands gripping the booth beneath you with urgency. "I-t-that could—"

Steve plucked his beer bottle from the table, sliding a step away from the table. His friends crowded around the pool table, where your roommate and her very own version of Steve were pressed against the wall, murmuring in close proximity.

"So, tomorrow?" He took another shuffled step back, a glint in his eye like he already knew his work was done.

He had you.

You swallowed again, tongue darting out to wet your dry mouth. "But...the test will be over by then."

Steve cupped his hand around his ear, eyes squinting as you grew smaller with every step back. "What? I can't—you're so far away! I can't hear you."

Amusement glimmered through, shattering your stunned stupor and bringing you back to life. Another mindless giggle tumbled from your mouth, and Steve savored it as he turned just enough to miss your pretty face.

"See you tomorrow!" he called.

You watched the plain of his broad back make its way into the crowd again, falling into a chorus of hoops and hollers and flushed, sticky bodies. You watched him douse himself in beer from a poorly-crafted beer bong held by a sloppy drunk. You watched him until you felt like a giddy schoolgirl, and did your best to return to your work and wait to take your leave.

And Steve stole glances when he knew you were no longer looking, hoping you'd really show.

✶ ✶

"I can't believe this is happening."

"I'm already nervous enough, please stop saying that."

"I'm sorry!" your roommate shrieked, hands slapping against her cheeks as she watched you fix your hair for the millionth time in the mirror on the floor. "I just...I just can't."

"Okay, but you can tell me if my outfit is good. Is it-is it okay? What does it say to you?"

You hopped to your feet, whirling around to show your carefully crafted outfit. You spent all night holding your roommate's hair back and pondering over your outfit in your head; daydreaming about what Steve would say once he had you in his dorm room, which he slipped by your table with beer-laced instructions to meet him at when the night dwindled down.

Now here you were, clammy palmed and losing your mind. Was this some sort of trick? A dare? Was he playing a joke on you?

“It says: ‘I want Steve Harrington to fuck me.’ But in a very chic, understated way.”

Huffing, you did your best to ignore the swirl in your belly at the thought of Steve mirroring your roommate’s beliefs.

“I’m leaving. You’re no help,” you half-heartedly scolded, swiping your bag on the way toward the door.

But if Steve Harrington wanted to fuck you, you certainly had no objections.

He had a sloppily scrawled sign on his dorm room door declaring it his place of residence (and whoever the hell Eddie Munson was). You swallowed as you brought your knuckles to the wood, smoothing your hair once more as footsteps shuffled behind it. It swung open with a gust of warm, woodsy air. His cologne filled the room like a potent candle, and you took a brief moment to suppress a cough before taking in his smooth, half cocked grin.

“Hey, pretty,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms.

Huffing a laugh, you fiddled with the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “Hi, Steve.”

Steve took a moment to drink you in, tongue inching between his lips to wet it as he shuffled back a step. His hand pushed the door open all the way, revealing a recently-cleaned bedroom adorned with two double-twins and a desk warm with amber lamplight. You immediately knew which posters were his—all sports related and signed.

“Come on in, get comfy.”

You took tiny steps inside, shivering when he breezed by in another whoosh of air to close the door behind you. The heat of his body, lingering close behind as you inspected the room, nipped at that gooey, mushy part of you that ached for him. The same part of you that rendered you a distracted, brainless mess in class when he spoke or flexed that strong arm with a grip around his pen.

“Thirsty?”

Whirling around, you found Steve standing near the desk, watching you with fixed and glinting hazel eyes.

Your face warmed twenty degrees. “Sorry?”

He motioned toward a mini fridge under the desk, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Something to drink?”

You breathed a laugh, swinging your bag off your shoulder. “Oh, um, sure.”

You had to look away when he bent to pull it open, the strain of tendons and cords of muscle in his tan, lean arms enough to make your mouth pool with water. Christ, you were ridiculous. You turned toward the dark, black fabric-clad side of the room where his roommate must’ve lived.

“So, um, the test was pretty easy this morning, but we can still—“

“Look at you. God, you’re so beautiful.”

The cold condensation of a Coke can pressing against your arm was the first to startle you—whirling around with a sharp-edged gasp. Then the sound of his words, rasped behind your ear, bringing goosebumps to your skin. His body, so close you could feel his warmth, smell the mint on his freshly-brushed teeth.

Standing this close, you could feel his breath tickle your cheeks, could see the shiny sheen of spit on his mouth from his tongue.

"W-what?"

Steve just shook his head, a dumfounded wonderment glistening in his eye. "You heard me."

Your jaw slackened, lips parting to utter some stupefied response, mind turning to soupy mush at the sudden proximity. Before you could even attempt some silly, bashful disagreement, Steve collected your chin in his hand. Pinched between gentle fingers, he guided your mouth up to his own until their softness touched.

The Coke can clattered to the ground and rolled toward the desk as his mouth closed over yours. You perked on your toes, fingers curling into fists as they lifted toward his shoulders, broad and firm. You couldn't believe this was happening. You always thought he tossed you looks during class, that he might've lingered a little too long when he walked to his desk just to watch you sit there.

You never imagined it could be true. That Steve Harrington wanted you the way you wanted him.

“You could’ve,” an interruption of kisses stopped you short, the click of spit and lips echoing off cinderblock, “at least…mm, pretended—oh! T-to study.”

“Couldn’t wait,” Steve mumbled against your mouth, teeth scraping your bottom lip, breath hot against your tongue.

Arousal flushed hot in your body, stomach squeezing in time with the fluttered successions of excitement provoked by his roaming hands. They stroked down your arms and toward your waist, slipping through the curves to hold you firmly. Another gasp bled into his open mouth when he tugged you close.

"This is so much better than Chaucer," he breathed, mouth sliding over your lips to your cheek where he pressed a firm and sloppy kiss.

"Mhm," you pipped dazedly, head tipping to follow his affections.

Thighs bumping the edge of the bed, you allowed Steve to guide you onto the black duvet of the mattress behind you. It rumpled with the hurried shuffle of bodies climbing over. Steve tugged you by the calves when you met the pillow, pulling you flat beneath him. He dipped with eager excitement to collect another kiss as your thighs bookended his hips.

"Test was already graded," Steve muttered, nudging your jaw with his nose to move it aside and fit his head in your neck. "Got...mm...eighty-five."

Heaving for air, you ruffled your fingers through the thickness of his hair: soft and slipping between your hands like silk. Blinded by the tingling buzz reverberating through your bones, you could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence aloud. Steve's lips suctioned to the column of your throat, and your body gave a jolt.

"Th-thought you didn't know anything."

Steve chuckled, and the sound grumbled through you like a firework. You gave another jerk, fingers twisting in his hair, hips canting up against the firmness of his jeans.

"M' not stupid," he mumbled into your neck, nipping with gentle teeth at your earlobe. "Just so distracted. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout you behind me."

"Oh, Steve," you scoffed, eyes opening blearily to blink at the tiled ceiling, browned with old water stains. His hair tickled your cheek, cologne bathing you in masculine comfort.

Steve lifted his head, peering down at you with rosy cheeks and swollen lips. "You don't believe me?"

You let your hands fall from his hair, smoothing over the firmness of his shoulders. The stretch of your thighs around him began to burn in the most delicious way, and the tufts of chest hair slipping from his grey t-shirt made you shift on the bed. You wanted him. Like a mad woman, some nymphomaniac, lust-ridden fiend.

"I don't know," you sighed, running a finger down his chest. "Let's just...talk about it later."

Steve watched you a moment, eyes scanning your face with scrutiny. When heat swelled in your flesh, his lips coiled into a grin, eyes alight with amusement.

"Ohhh, I see. Poor little baby just can't wait. Y' want me, pretty girl?"

You bobbed your head fervently, the beginning of a pout even toying with your lips. He rendered you ridiculous and stupid, and later, you might've even felt embarrassed about how easy it was for Steve Harrington to have you whining.

But right now, all you cared about were his hands, big and rough and warm to the touch, taking off your shirt.

"Don't worry, honey," Steve cooed breathlessly, eyes traveling to the newly exposed flesh. "You've got me."

As his hands explored and grabbed at flesh, your own slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, splaying over the soft skin beneath. He was quick to shed himself of the layer, and you did your best to admire the build revealed as he trailed kisses between your breasts. He led them all the way down to your navel, and then over the curve of flesh leading to the waistband of your pants. Steve hooked his fingers in the belt loops and tugged harshly, practically ripping them from your thighs and down over your feet.

He captured his lip between his teeth as he settled between your legs again, fingers pinching and kneading at the flesh like soft dough. "And I've got you. Ain't that right?"

You grew dizzy with your nodding, so petulantly desperate and pleading. Steve grinned at it, index tracing the lace of your underwear with explorative wonderment as he watched your eyes well up. He was certain if he prolonged your pleasure any more, he'd have you weeping.

"Don't cry, honey," he soothed, peeling your panties off by the lace band. "Steve's gotcha."

In the back of your mind, you rolled your eyes and giggled at the ridiculous confidence Steve seemed to think he could get away with—but in reality, you were too busy lifting your hips to meet Steve's fingers, brushing just gently over your core as he undid his belt with the other hand. The buckle clinked and clunked with a toss, clattering to the tile floor somewhere near Steve's side of the room, where your backpack and all its contents spilled in the erotic chaos of Steve's impatience.

When the pair of you were bare, Steve breached the distance—flesh on flesh exuding heat that glistened in a haloed sheen. His mouth worked over yours a while longer, melting you down just a little more into absolutely nothing. Hands coaxing your limbs to release their tensions, your muscles to relax and ease into him. You trusted him more than anything, warmed by his gentle affections. No man had ever been so sweet and slow.

The crinkle of foil came like tv static, muffled and low. And then something larger than his fingers was brushing your core, slipping through the slickness pooling. He rubbed the tip along your most sensitive, delicate spot just enough to have you whimpering and twisting, before sliding into your entrance with slow, meticulous purpose.

Steve groaned as he pushed further, forearms planted on either side of your head. Your thighs quaked against his ribs, hoisted high and holding on tight. You reached for his hair again, desperate for more of him.

"You okay, honey?" Steve mumbled against your cheek, fanning hot breath into your ear.

You shivered at the grumble of his voice rattling through you, nodding once more. "Y-yeah. Keep going, please."

He huffed a chuckle, shifting his hips to push a little deeper and revel in the gasp you shot out.

"Please," he mocked, kissing your damp cheek. "So sweet."

When he sank in completely, you could've sworn you saw the light. A burning sting that had you writhing crawled through your thighs and up your back, settled even deep in your stomach where the thickness of him rested. He nuzzled into your neck with a low grunt of relief, giving you the space of his back to run your fingers down and kiss mindlessly. Steve seemed to be no better, losing himself in the warmth of your body wrapped around him.

"Steve, please."

Your voice stirred him from his hazy, lust-drunk stupor; he quickly readjusted to lift off his arms.

"Shh, shh, 've got you."

Like revving an engine, Steve gave a few short thrusts before settling into a pace of slow, deep humps that came like timed successions. You gasped and groaned with every one, nails biting into the warm, clammy skin of his shoulders. Once he knew you were satisfied and free of discomfort, Steve took his moment to brush your hair out of your face with a heavy, sweeping palm. He peppered kisses all over your face, delicate brushes of his mouth over your eyelids and nose, firmer across your mouth and cheeks.

Who knew Steve Harrington would be so sweet?

“Knew you’d feel so good,” he whined into your ear, pace quickening a bit with eagerness.

“So good,” you parroted, a high pitched and nasally lilt congealing your voice.

But he was just that good.

The room quieted to a blend of slick skin clicking and the bated, hoarse breaths of erotic thrill. You weren’t sure how long it truly went on, but the world just fell away around you. Blackened in a vignette of vision, hazed over with heavenly satisfaction. Your body buzzed in some muffled, distant way—you felt like just a mind in a body, being taken away. It was hard to focus on anything other than Steve, rocking into you and leaving kisses on your neck.

When your hiccuped breath shifted to sharp mewls, clawed from somewhere deep in your chest, Steve reared back and steadied his hands on your hips. He slowed to a glacial pace, watching his own cock prod at the flesh beneath your navel, your own slickness gather at his pelvis. He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing firmly into the delicate nub to focus a gentle, circular massage. You twisted and writhed like a woman enraged with demonic possession, and your grip on his forearms felt like something out of The Exorcist.

But it was all worth it to watch your face balloon with heat, flooding every vein with scorching pleasure until air became nothing but a lifeline. Steve was glad to even press pause on his own pleasure just to see you summit. Your chest trembled with a quaking roar, limbs succumbing to weakness in the daze. Vision clouded with grey static, streaked with a pool of tears.

When you were positively spent, Steve carefully unsheathed, squeezing his fist around his cock with firm pressure and bringing it to hover over your stomach.

“This okay, sweetheart?” he managed to grit out, neck bulging with veins, cheeks growing red.

You could barely nod, swiping your hand through the thin layer of sweat along his arm. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh God—fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Warmth splattered across your abdomen, like a gentle flicker of water across your skin. The squelching sound of Steve fucking his fist died down, mirroring the dwindle of moans and groans from the boy himself. He fell forward heavily, catching himself with one hand beside your head. His nose brushed your cheek, catching his breath against the clammy skin.

“Christ,” he heaved, jutting a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. “We owe Chaucer a big one.”

Before you could giggle or scoff, the door swung open with a chittering screech. Steve scrambled to grab the comforter and shield your bare, sticky bodies, both your heads snapping toward the doorway as a shaggy-haired boy stomped through: his roommate.

“Harrington, what the fuck?”

[rizsu]

gojo comes back after 20 fucking years god bless gege (full leak here)

edit: adding more leaks (lots of gojo) utc since i ran out of image space last post

gojo vs kenjaku AND gojo vs sukuna. in this panel (2nd image), he says “you've changed a lot megumi.” (it's not known if he knows it's sukuna but gege foreshadowed gojo vs megumi and always rmbr that ppl in jjk cant see sukuna's markings like we can) (page 14)

rmbr when sukuna said when he takes over yuuji, he will first kill gojo? sukuna now says “it turned out to be this brat's body but I'll kill you”. gojo says fuck you to sukuna by saying, “the guy who ran away from Yuji is acting all mighty, how pity.” (so yeah he knows it's not megumi but sukuna.) (page 15)

uraume gets mad at gojo for talking shit to sukuna and tries to attack him but gojo sends her flying (page 16)

kenjaku arrives again and stops sukuna saying “you've to finish my promise before you fight him.” gojo thinks he also has a job to do before fighting. sukuna agrees with kenjaku (so ig they stopped for now) (page 16)

gojo proposes to take the fight to 24/12 and kenjaku responds with “haha, how romantic.” (the final fights happen on dec 24th idk yet if it's irl time or jjk time) (page 18)

rmbr when yuuji asked gojo if sukuna's stronger? gojo replied with “it'll be tough if he regains all his power.”

but yuuji asked if gojo would lose but gojo said, “i will win!” (final page)

the manga goes on a break for two weeks. cr to King_Jin_Woo3 on twt.

[comicaurora]

Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.

That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!

If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?

Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.

Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3

You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-

Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.

In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.

I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.

Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-

Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.

It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.

And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."

Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.

It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.

[celaenaeiln]

so my friend, at 12 am, called me just to say that dick grayson is the only one in his family that bruce truly views as an equal and then hung up. what. what do i do.

well, call them back and tell 'em they're right 😂😂😂

I started cackling so hard I began wheezinggg oh my god that's hilarious!!!

But maybe for a more reasonable time to talk about this concept after you wake/have woken up from your dick grayson cameo dreams, I'll drop some comic panels

Dick is privy to all of Bruce because of the way Bruce treats him like an equal

He lets Dick in on secrets that he doesn't tell any of the others

I've made a post before on how Clark views Dick as his equal just as Bruce views Dick as his equal.

I'm going to drop the Bruce segment here:

When Bruce was gone the only person he entrusted any information to was Dick. He left a personalized - voice activated - message for Dick and only him that lists his worries, faults, and regrets.

"The girl, Cassandra Cain... I told her to give this file to you should I fall tonight."

"She's my greatest sin, Dick. My deepest regret. Stay alive, and please. Try to forgive me--"

He lists his insecurities to Dick as friend, as an equal.

Of everyone Bruce left behind, the only person Bruce left a message for was Dick. He relies on him unconditionally to take over because Bruce doesn't seem him as a kid like he does with the other - don't get me wrong, he still values and knows just how brilliant the rest of his children are - but he sees Dick as an equal in terms of intelligence, abilities, and leadership. Actually -

Bruce puts Dick on a pedestal.

He views Dick as the golden standard of everything he's working toward.

The reason I think Bruce is so harsh on Dick in regards to training is he doesn't see him as a kid that needs protection, he seems him equal to himself.

Time and time again he sends Dick on solo missions because of the faith he has in Dick's abilities and intelligence

In another comic there's an Arkham breakout and Bruce just. He just sends sends Dick on a solo mission to contain the entirety of Arkham and the villains inside by himself.

And Dick does. Effortlessly.

The fight for Spyral

"I know the other heroes. I know them all. I'd have them do it, but they can't. They'd fight, but eventually they'd give up, they'd give in."

We all know that Bruce despises himself when he fails at something. He thinks he's the best in the world and struggles to cope with the idea that he failed. As such, Bruce views Dick as an extension of himself. Unlike with the kids where he acknowledges their differences and treats them like children, Dick and Bruce are so intertwined that Bruce considers Dick as the "good part" of himself while Bruce is the "bad part".

He gets the angriest at Dick during times where Dick disagrees with him because he believes that Dick should understood what he's going through and what he believes in. For his part, Dick is always on Bruce's side and acts like Bruce's leash. He'll let Bruce do anything he wants as long as it's within the limits of acceptable behavior. Once Batman crosses those limits, Dick fights with him to bring him back.

As such, Bruce doesn't differentiate himself with Dick. He is the best and as a result so is Dick. Except in his mind Dick is better than him in every way possible and he took the steps to ensure it through training.

One of the reasons people in the comics call Dick the Golden Child is because he's the living embodiment of everything Bruce strived to create. It's not because he follows his orders religiously or anything. No, Dick just gives Bruce a longer leash than most.

In the Spyral fight I think he hits Dick because he is in part frustrated with himself. Imagine seeing someone you have unconditional faith in because you know they're capable of the very same things as you and can even surpass you fall to a threat. Doesn't that mean you would've fallen too? Is their failure just as much yours if you see yourself as a god? But how can a god-like being fall?

Their relationship is complicated because while Bruce sees Dick as his own person, he also sees him as the reflection of his success.

That's why Bruce is harsher on Dick than the rest of the kids. That's why Bruce makes Dick his right hand man. That's why Bruce shares his sorrows, fears, and vulnerabilities to Dick.

The way they interact, they view each other as father and son but with all the roles and responsibilities as partners.

Dick's compartmentalization and the way he mothers Bruce and Bruce allows it? He doesn't let anyone do that. I feel like on some level he subconsciously expects Dick to take care of him. As someone he can turn to with his worst and darkest sides and still be loved and appreciated and told everything will be alright. It's not a burden he places on the rest of his kids. Which is why Dick's relationship with Bruce straddles the line between son and guardian with him playing both roles and Bruce reacting/ forcing him to react that way.

Also

"Robin fuctions as support."

"Robin wasn't your idea, Bruce! It was mine! I sat in your cave and I watched you and I learned-- and when you needed my help I was there!"

"I'm not your employee, I'm not your son. I'm your partner."

One thing that differentiates Dick's robin from the other robins is that while the other Robins were worried about meeting Bruce's expectation, Dick was more worried about Bruce not seeing him as an equal. He ran away from home because he was mad that Bruce was becoming more controlling and not at all like how they used to be - partners.

There's a reason Dick is the only one Bruce views as his equal. It's because the experiences they've shared have woven them so tightly together that Bruce considers Dick his better half and pillar of strength. If he falls back, he can rely on Dick to take over. Emotionally and physically.

Still laughing at your friend lol. Wild

[toomuchracket]

birthday wish (d word matty x reader fluff)

it's the 6th for me already so here's the first of the matty35 birthday celebration fics, as organised by lovely @the1975attheirverybest and @abiiors!! pre-dating, very sweet, hope you enjoy <3

“for fuck's sake, matty, will you just fucking ask her?”

george is all but bashing his head off the desk in the office he and matty have unofficially claimed as their own, while the latter paces across the carpet, biting at the skin around his nails. “dunno, george. what if she says no?”

“wouldn't be the first time a hot girl's told you to do one, would it?”

“fuck off,” matty smacks his friend on the back of the head. objectively, he knows george is right - you are hot, that's merely a fact, you're gorgeous - but that doesn't mean he has to like hearing him bring it up.

whatever. it's not like matty can get mardy at him for it - he isn't your boyfriend, after all. technically, you're barely even friends; he's known you all of four weeks, and has yet to see you in a social setting. 

he really fucking wants to, though. hence, his current dilemma.

george laughs. “mate, you're only asking her to come over to mine for your birthday drinks. it's not like you're asking her out or anything.”

“no,” matty hums, eyes unfocusing on their view out the window as his brain conjures up thoughts of doing just that. it's a nice thought, admittedly not an unfamiliar one, and something he will absolutely get distracted imagining if he doesn't snap out of it now. he blinks. “i just think it'd be nice if she was there, y'know? but, at the same time, i don't want her to feel weird about me asking, cos she doesn't know us that well yet.”

“i think you're overthinking it,” comes the salient reply. “can sort-of see where you're coming from, but i reckon if you just fucking ask her like a normal person then it'll be fine.”

matty sighs. “alright. you're right. i'll ask her before the end of the day.”

“well,” george turns to him, shit-eating grin on his face. he nods towards the glass panel on the door. “she's heading towards us, so you're doing it now.”

fuck. matty peers through the window, heart softening as he watches you wander towards him - sorry, them - stack of papers in hand and your hair escaping the messy ponytail he watched you shove it into earlier. “perfect.”

he barely has time to force the panic from his face before you're knocking softly on the half-open door, poking your head around it with a sweet smile. “hi, boys. am i okay to come in with some admin? i can come back later if you're busy.”

matty opens his mouth to speak, but george beats him to it. “oh, we're not busy at all. matty was just doing my fucking head in, as per,” he laughs when matty scowls at him. “what d'you need?”

“just got some risk assessments for album events that i need you to read and sign. the fun stuff,” you awkwardly (endearingly, matty would say) put the papers on the desk, looking up at matty as you step back and shyly clasp your hands behind your back. god, you are so fucking cute. “and, for the record, i doubt what george just said about you is true, matty.”

“thank you, darling,” matty smiles, at the exact same time as george says “no, he genuinely was being a pain in the arse”; he turns to his best friend, glaring. “what, george, like you're being to me now?”

george winks at you. “worse.”

you giggle nervously, turning towards the door - matty's heart drops as you do. “well, don't let me get in the way. just get those back to me as soon as you can, please, alright?”

“wait, before you go,” george calls after you. “can we talk to you about something?”

“um, yeah?” you turn back around, pretty face panicked, and nervously cross one arm over your stomach to hold the other. “am i in trouble?”

fuck, you are so adorable. matty smiles as softly as possible - not difficult, though, when it’s you he’s smiling at. “no, no, of course not. what would you even be in trouble for, anyway? you’re perfect.”

“oh,” you smile bashfully. “thank you.”

“it’s true. anyway,” matty clears his suddenly-very-dry throat as best he can. “we were wondering… are you, um, busy on saturday?”

“the 9th?” your brow furrows as you think. “yeah, i am, actually - my friend’s moving in with his boyfriend, and i said i’d help,” the panicked expression crosses your face again. “why do you ask? is there something else on that day that i should be at?”

crestfallen, matty replies with a “no, it’s alright, not a big deal”; george cuts him off, though. “it’s not a work thing, no - we were just gonna ask if you wanted to come to the little birthday celebration we’re having for matty at mine that day-”

“but really, if you can’t make it, no hard feelings,” matty interjects, practically tripping over his words in his haste to reassure you (read: seem cool about it, and not let on that he’s disappointed). “we know it’s short notice.”

you blink a few times, biting your lip before you look directly at matty and speak. “what time would you want me?”

well, anytime, all the time, really. “oh. just after 4? it’s quite casual, not a sit-down dinner or anything. but, like i said, no pressure.”

“no, i think i could probably be there for that time!” you nod enthusiastically. “i’ll text you if anything changes, but,” you beam, and matty thinks his heart might pack in. “i’ll do my best to be there. thanks for asking, both of you.”

“of course,” george grins. “you’re our friend. why wouldn’t we ask you?”

he isn’t technically wrong, calling you that on behalf of both of them, but it still makes matty feel like he’s bitten into a lemon. a friend; how he wishes there was another word prefixing it, one only he could use to describe you.

still, you’ll hopefully be there to celebrate his birthday with him, and that sweetens everything - if you turn up, that is. “exactly. you’re top of the guestlist, darling.”

you huff out a laugh, looking at matty so affectionately he could cry. “better make a proper effort to get to the party, then,” you look at your watch. “i’m sorry, i’ve got to run to a meeting - hopefully see you at the weekend?”

“yeah,” matty nods. you’re out of the office before he can finish speaking, and his parting phrase comes out feebly as a result. “bye, darling.”

he moves to sit back at his desk, lifting one of the risk assessments and beginning to read it in silence. george peers round his laptop, gawking at his best friend. “why you being all emo?”

“i’m not.”

“yeah, you are. you’re like a black cloud,” a beat passes, then george speaks again, voice softer. “the invitation went well, at least.”

matty hums noncommittally. “s’pose.” 

“it did, matthew. she was excited. she said she’d try her best to be there. those are good things.”

“i know,” matty sighs. “i just… i hope she’ll be there. be a shame if she wasn’t.”

“i think she will.”

“well, we’ll see.”

***

“... happy birthday, dear matty, happy birthday to you!”

matty smiles at the mismatched chorus of voices, laughing when charli ruffles his hair after she sets the cake down on the coffee table in front of him. “oi, bean,” he lightly taps eilidh, sat on his lap, on the shoulder. “i know we’re a bit early to be celebrating your birthday, but will you help me blow out the candles?”

she nods excitedly, tiny ponytail bouncing. matty beams, and they gently blow out a “3” candle each, to a soundtrack of applause. ross, sat next to the two of them, reaches over to smooth his daughter’s hair. “have the cigarettes finally caught up to you, or are you just getting too old?”

matty furrows his brow. “d’you mean?”

“well, you just needed my toddler’s help to blow out your candles - stop it, i’m joking,” his friend laughs, leaning to the side to avoid matty smacking the back of his head. “did you make a wish?”

“obviously.”

“what for?”

“can’t tell you,” matty takes a sip of his wine, lifting it out of eilidh’s reach - ross lifts her onto his own lap, and she cuddles into him quite cutely. “won’t come true, otherwise.”

“fair enough,” ross shrugs. he nods to something behind matty. “g’s trying to get your attention, mate.”

“is he?” matty turns, heart rate increasing when he hears george saying your name into the phone pressed to his ear. after excusing himself from the table, he quickly follows his friend into the quiet hallway, tensing every muscle in his body to stop his leg bouncing in nervous anticipation.

the nerves fade quickly, though - george smiles as he talks, and then he says something that makes matty want to actually skip around the house. “you’re almost here? amazing, everyone’s looking forward to seeing you…”

understatement of the fucking century.

“... and yeah, i’ll make sure someone’s outside so you know where to go,” he laughs down the line, and matty’s heart melts at the thought of you endearingly asking for that. “alright, no worries. see you soon,” george ends the call, sighing dramatically before smirking at the birthday boy. “told you she’d be here.”

“yeah, yeah,” matty rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep his cheeks from lifting into a smile, no matter how hard he tries. although, to be fair, he’s not trying particularly hard. “i’ll wait for her, mate.”

“you sure? it’s your party, after all.”

“exactly - i should be there to greet the guests,” matty smirks. “and i fancy a cig, too, if i’m honest.”

george scoffs. “typical. here,” he chucks a set of house keys at matty, who manages to catch them with the very tips of his fingers. “you’d better head out now.”

“sweet.”

it’s actually a little bit chilly when matty steps outside george’s front door, but it’s a nice evening; the sun is just beginning to set, casting a golden hue over london, the birds are chirping quietly, and the whole thing is just really quite peaceful. he perches as well as he can on the front gate, lighting up a cigarette and contentedly taking a drag. by the time your uber arrives, he’s halfway finished the cig, but he barely has time to even think about stubbing it out before you’re out of the car and walking towards him. 

he waves, eyes trailing slowly up your body, lingering on your bare legs and almost popping out of his head when they take notice of the slight cleavage your sundress is showing off. not that it’s obscene, or anything, he’s just so used to seeing you all office-chic and buttoned-up. still, matty quickly shifts his focus to that beautiful face of yours, just to keep his cool.

as if he could, around you.

you beam as you near him. “hi! i’m so, so sorry i’m late,” you open your arms for a hug, and he slots into them eagerly, savouring the rose of your perfume. “had to marinate in the shower for a bit after today, i stunk.”

“well, you smell good now. and you look it, too, i love that dress,” matty replies, heart breaking ever so slightly when you pull apart. “and you’re here, that’s all that matters.”

“thanks! and i wouldn’t have missed your birthday, matty - speaking of, here,” you pull a bottle of red from your bag and hand it to him. “didn’t know what to get you, so i figured this was a safe bet.”

“you didn’t have to get me anything! thanks, though, darling,” he looks at the label, eyes widening. “shit, this is good. shall we go inside and open it?”

“oh, if you like,” you smile. “or you can save it for someone special, i'm cool either way.”

matty shrugs, smiling. “i mean, i'm looking at such a person right now.”

it's maybe a tiny bit far a statement for a platonic relationship, but you don't take it badly at all - you just smile back, quietly agree to share the wine, and follow matty when he leads you back into the house and straight into the empty kitchen.

you gasp when you see the birthday cake on the counter. “no! i missed the cake?”

“only by a few minutes,” matty stops rummaging in a drawer for the corkscrew to look round at you; his heart jolts when he sees you look genuinely sad. “really, darling, it's not a big deal.”

“i still feel bad, though. i really am sorry for not being here on time, matty.”

“hey, none of that, please,” he hands you a glass of wine and puts his arm around your shoulders, biting back a beam as you automatically melt into him. “like i said, you're here now, and that's the main thing. and it's my birthday party, so you have to listen to me.”

“alright,” you look up at him, smiling, and hold out your glass. “happy birthday, sweetheart.”

he smiles warmly at the pet name, heart aglow, and taps his glass lightly on your own. “thank you, darling. d'you think we should cut the cake?”

jesus, what a spiral that phrase could lead him into. thank god you're not wearing white today.

you nod. “where does george keep plates? i'll get them.”

“cupboard above the kettle.”

plates and knife procured, matty carefully slices into the cake, oohing and ahhing at the interior. “wow. look at the layers! they're so neat.”

“alright, paul hollywood.”

he giggles. “i love bake off.”

“so do i - oh, thank you,” you take the plate from him, and then a bite of the cake. “fuck me, that's good.”

he laughs, pushing himself to sit on the counter and taking a bite of his own slice. “christ, you were not kidding. fucking amazing.”

“isn't it?” you wash your bite down with some wine. “m'still sorry i didn't get to see you blowing out the candles, though.”

“eilidh helped me.”

you aww, perching yourself on the counter next to him. “i take it you made a wish?”

“of course.”

“good,” you rest your head on his shoulder, so casually intimate that matty thinks his legs would give way if he tried to stand right now. “d'you think it'll come true?”

he rests his head atop yours, smiling when you giggle at him. “you know what? i think it already has.”

[hoeforhao]

🌙 Fated Under The Rain ☆ Wonwoo Oneshot ☆

↝ pairing: ex boyfriend! wonwoo × fem! reader

↝ genre: explicit language, smut with little plot, minors dni!!!!!! mutual pining but mainly from wonwoo, fluff, slight humor, overall nothing heavy just a small sensual drabble.

↝ warnings: unprotected sex(wrap it up kids), creampie, breast play, fingering, marking. Tell me if I missed any!

↝ summary: will offering lift to the man who left you in pieces amidst heavy rain lead to something your heart has been craving for months?

↝ word count: 2k(am sorry😭)

↝ author's note: was driving back home yesterday while it was literally pouring down outside, my favorite song playing on spotify and all i could think of instead focusing on the road was this plot!

Lemme know if you enjoyed the drabble! Feedbacks always make me feel warm♡

Permanent taglist : @feat-sun @joonsytip

Amidst the rain seeping it's path down the glass panels, the heaven clan's haze shielding your view from the mundane maneuver of the blurred out world, your glistening beads have found their long craved spot onto the tall, broad shouldered man standing by the signal, hair and shirt completely soaked up from the pouring skies, while his eyes were desperately searching for a way back - was it to his brick stoned house or his lost home?

"Going back home?" thrusting on the clutch and then the brake to bring your car to a halt at the blinking bloody lights, you roll down the passenger side's window as a way to offer some sort of help to the seemingly distressed man on top of the pavement.

A familiar voices grazes wonwoo's ears as his eyes shoot up in anticipation,looking for the owner of the claimed voice, only to land them on you. Did rain cloud his vision? Cuz there's no way that you were now parked beside him, asking whether he's struggling to get back home or not.

"Y-yes" the older nervously scratches the back of his head, not sure of what to say to the person he has pained so deep.

"I can drop you off, if you don't mind obviously" only you knew how hard it was for you to maintain an indifferent composure before the one man you've cared for and treasured so dearly, being fully aware of the fact that he's highly sensitive to rainwater; 'typical cat behavior' you laugh at yourself!

"No its fine. I'll find a cab soon" wonwoo tries to be as polite as possible, even though every vein of his body wants to jump into the car right now.

"I've been watching you clawing onto your scalp in frustration for the past 30 minutes and you think i'll still believe in your 'will find a cab soon'?" you genuinely didn't realise when the old habits took over the new persona and you started acting as the protective girlfriend you were, visualizing that one time he fell severely ill for days after getting poured onto on his way to the office; a memory you never wanna revisit ever again.

"Hop on quick if you don't wanna end up amongst the white walls for the second time!! Only 10 seconds are left to go" eyes quickly deviating towards the beeping timer of the signal, while you shift up the gear and slowly start bringing up your feet off the floor, ready to drive out as soon as the light turns green.

All of wonwoo's self control leave his body seeing the same old care flash by on his lost lover's face, as he swiftly pulls onto the door's latch, positioning his nearly drenched body onto the leather seats.

The defeaning silence between the two past kins were filled by wonwoo's occasional glances at the strong independent lady sitting beside him and the radio playing your favorite songs, those which you constantly looped onto spotify throughout the entire spell of your heart longing for wonwoo.

Looks like even the gods are against you today as a warm wet hand lands on yours that were stationed onto the gear beside. As much as you wanted to engulf those palms into yours instantly and never let them go, you knew quite well that he was now not yours, not your to claim, not your to hold onto. Thus the only thing you could do was keep your eyes fixed onto the slippery road infront and drive him home safe.

But the heavens knew better. Your plans were currently going for a battle with you as wonwoo kept on grazing his soft gentle digits onto the back of your hand, everytime you shifted them to change the gear, drawing small circles on them occasionally.

The sensation now reaching the threshold of your body, making your skin call for the touch of his lips and your insides craving the warmth of his body, it was time for you to slow down your car by a deserted road and park the black shiny carrier under the moonlight.

"What do you want wonwoo?" a stern yet begging pair of eyes turns towards the passenger seat, where the big man was resting his wet body on.

"I miss you y/n. I've always missed you" wonwoo now completely engulfs your palms into his, squeezing them hard from the anticipation of what's about to come his way. "Can...can i feel you for one last time, pls?"

You see the desperation behind those black boba balls, the way those droplets of tears are being held captive in the backroom; besides it was gradually getting hard to ignore the pained screams of your body to feel him beneath you. Abandoning all the huff,anger, hurt that made their home in you for so long, you fleetly jumped out from the driver's seat while pushing back wonwoo's to make enough space for you on his lap.

Startled by the sudden presence of your wet clothed cunt over the tent in his tight jeans, wonwoo's body jolts up in the heat flowing through him, dulling his morals and senses as he only wants to fuck the life out of you right now ; and he shows no delay in his endeavor as he clings his mouth onto your neck like a beast deprived of his meal for months, loitering the supple skin beneath with his marks.

"I missed you so fuckin much y/n" he whispers into your nape, hands roaming up your waist, under your satin shirt, caressing the soft pillowy tummy he has always preferred laying on, pawing onto your boobs over the black lacey bra you wore to work, for lord knows what reasons; while his lips now clutched themselves to your plumpy vanilla lips.

"May I, please?" there's literally not a single person on the earth who can say no to those pleasing kitty eyes. So you just hummed against the kiss - not a passionate one but a longing one; wonwoo's lips were moving on yours in such insatiable hunger that it seemed like he wanted to imprint the taste onto his mouth forever, who knows if he'll ever get to feel them again....as if his lips have finally found their twin flame they've been craving for months now!

One single go signal from you and wonwoo wasted no time in tugging onto the buttons of your flowy shirt, ripping them open in just a matter of seconds. His eyes lit up like an excited puppy upon seeing your bare skin, glowing under the moonlit rainy sky....oh how he has missed this sight of yours so much, you whimpering on him, all vulnerable and begging for his touch against your heated core.

"Fuck you're still so sweet my love" he moans into your jiggly soft boobs, mouth fixed onto one of your hardened nipples, while he pawed at the other one.

The words 'my love' from the mouth of the one your heart still belongs to, still craves for and still wants to be claimed by, does no good in controlling the dripping from your already soaked pussy, as you start roughly grinding against his clothed length.

"Hmmm so impatient for my cock, aren't you pretty baby" a wide smirk creeping it's way onto wonwoo's face as he notices you getting impatient to feel him inside you. Finding it exciting and a prideful moment for him, the hand that was kneading onto your doughy mounds now trails down to your panties under the very convenient skirt your were harboring ; drawing his cold fingers over your sensitive clothed clit sending your head thrown against the windshield of your car.

"Pls..pls stop teasing and fuck me already wonu" you were yourself amazed at how desperate you seemed for his cock in your throbbing pussy.

"But I don't have a condom sweetheart" wonwoo knew absolutely well that you didn't give a damn about having unprotected sex with him as he smirked onto the skin around your nipples, teasing your wet sticky fold with his free fingers ; pulling out a string of slick from your pussy infront of you, he proudly shows you how much of a slut you're for his touch.

"You..ahh...you think...I....shit...fuckin care about having a condom right now? Just go in raw please....haven't felt your cock in me....for so long....fuck" lord if anyone ever got near to the black beauty parked on the roadside and heard the lewd sounds escaping your lips, they would surely be traumatized for days, but that was the least of your concerns now.

"As my princess wishes" and with that wonwoo quickly moves his limbs towards his pants, shoving down the chain of his trousers in the flick of an eye, while he finally releases his strained hard cock from its restraints, precum leaking down its tip as he tries to slightly palm down the pain before sheathing them into your walls.

"Just as tight as I left it" he growls onto your neck as his cock now thrusts into your slick walls at a inhumane pace, as if he slowly down, he'll forever lose the warmth of this pussy. "Fitting me so well into the mould u created only for me to fill"

The rain outside and the haze of all the juices leaking from the two bodies inside the car, creates a mystical world bounded within the tinted glasses of the vehicle, while wonwoo keeps on fucking you dumb onto his lap.

"I...I'm near wonw-- ah fuck" you lose control over your core muscles at the sensation of wonwoo's tip hitting your womb, as your core's glistening cream paints his black jeans white ; not to mention you were now embarrassed at the fact that he has to go home with such stained pants....or maybe not-

"My pretty little whore, so glowy after ruining my new jeans huh" you can feel wonwoo's pace slowing down a bit, knowing quite well what's about to follow. "Lemme return the favor and ruin your insides, ruin your pussy so that no one can get to bury themselves in you, except me.....only my hole to fuck"

Wonwoo's body falls limp onto the headrest of the seat as he shoots his entire load into you, cock still moving amongst your walls, fucking his seeds deep inside you.

"Can i have another chance, please?" wonwoo finally looks you into your pleasure coated eyes while shifting you on his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, resting his sweat forehead onto yours.

"At what? Fucking me?" you were seemingly confused at his words as you didn't think he would be wanting anything else other than sex, after how he let go off your hand in the middle of you two's promised path, 8 months ago.

"No...no...at l-loving you, pls" his voice suddenly portrays a cast of regret and pain, "I know I fucked up, I hurt the one I've loved with all my might all this time. I...I could never get you out of my head y/n, my eyes and my heart kept looking for you at every corner of my messed up life. Pls, will you give your catto one last chance?" something unexpected rolled down wonwoo's cheeks and it was none other than tear drops. Was...was he really crying for you, begging you back into his arms again?

"This time if you leave, I'll make sure to castrate you, so that you can't ever get a girl around you after me" you laugh onto his skin while placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, your fingers wiping off the dried out tears on his cheeks.

"I'll happily place my dick under your guillotine, my highness" wonwoo hasn't felt this happy since months, heart fluttering at the thought of walking beside you again, fingers locked into one another's.

Your heart swells looking at the misty scene outside, remembering how the first time you two decided to date, it was raining cats and dogs as you were pulling him under a tree to sheath yourselves from the rain...and now when the skies decided to grant you another chance at healing your soul with the one you loved, it's raining heavily - again!!!

"Eh but what about your pants wonu, how will you go home with these...ummm...stains" a genuine question you've been dying to ask him, as you surely don't have a change for men's jeans in your car.

"Who said we are going home baby"

[hello-vampire-kitty]

Servamp chapter 133 translation "One"

Read the chapter on MangaDex!

Oh boy, while this chapter doesn't have as much dialogue like the rest that I have to work on, I had some lines that gave me trouble, like you will see in the TL notes, so please look over them. Translation notes

Although it's trivial and I'll be going over something from an early chapter but hey, you'll see just how bad the English translation is, especially with the early volumes.

Some time ago I asked on Twitter if people recalled the nickname Kuro had for Sakuya, because I had the impression he had one for him in the early chapters, similar to how Kuro calls Misono "kisama-chan", which I translate as little bastard xD Kuro refers to Sakuya as 外ハネ "soto hane" which I translated simply as "curly hair", rather than "flipped hair" which is what you'll see if you google the term. I looked into the anime subs and it was translated as "side flare." I could have used that, but to quote Mahiru, "Simple is best" xD

IIn the official localization of the manga it's not even translated T_T

The 2nd and 3rd panel are poorly translated, like the "grungy" joker part, Kuro just calls him "joker" and that's where he also calls him "soto hane. Oh boy but the last two lines in the 3rd panel are soo bad. What Kuro said originally was "I don't think little bastard and him would get along", to which Mahiru replies "Little bastard...you mean Misono?!" Yeah, so it's quite different. Okay, so let's move on to the other notes I have for this chapter.

Tsubaki's last line had me like "What?" Hopefully I haven't misunderstood it. So, Tsubaki uses the word 貯蔵庫 which means storehouse which sounds weird...The way it's written in Japanese, his line could also be translated as "Put away the "prototype" used for storage", but that doesn't make sense, right? Also, I can't say if it's singular or plural regarding the word prototype. I used the plural only because he said "siblings", cause I think it refers to them. So yeah, it's weird, what does he mean regarding storage? We'll have to see if it's brought up in other chapters.

While most of the characters' abilities have two different readings to them, in this case, the furigana reading which is the intended reading is actually used to show the pronunciation of the kanji.

Tanaka-sensei used different kanji with the same pronunciation to spell the words "shura" that is written as 修羅 and "sousou" (funeral) which is written as 葬送 Shura (or Asura), has been brought up before by Tsubaki, but with another meaning, such as fighting; carnage.

Tsubaki's ability in Japanese is written as 朱羅葬想

修=朱

送=想

So instead of the usual kanji 修羅葬送 (shura sousou) in this case, the first and 4th kanji were replaced like I showed above, both having the same pronunciation and you can't exactly get a translation for the words, so I will just breakdown each kanji to see what they represent.

The first kanji 朱 means "red; vermilion; cinnabar; scarlet". This one is probably used to make a reference to blood in my opinion.

The fourth kanji 想 means "thoughts, emotions, feelings".

So yeah, written like this 朱羅葬想 it can't be translated and the kanji that were used are most likely meant to be representative for Tsubaki. That's my opinion.

He also says the word 迎え (mukae) which means "meeting; greeting; welcome". I can't say how it relates to "shura sousou", but I thought that maybe his ability has styles? Perhaps the "welcome" is one style like from what we see, he makes some kind of barrier and when he's attacked, he vanishes and appears behind Kuro Maybe he has other fighting styles used for close combat.

Oh my God, like maybe it sounds dumb but I legit didn't know how else I could adapt what Kuro says about the counter-attack, because there were hardly any examples of how some of the words in Japanese were used, like one of them was from what I gathered, a term used in sports that translates as "take the field first" and another one basically meant ""going second" and there was another example that basically meant "going second", then there was another word that I only found in a single example...It was awful.

Cleaning the speech bubble was tough and I think it looks decent.

As you might have seen, I added this page again at the end of the chapter on Mangadex to show the other reading of the ability, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust" because I couldn't add it because there wasn't enough space in the speech bubble. So, when I looked up the word, it was interesting that Wiedergänger share similarities to strigoi from my country's folklore. I think others might have brought this up regarding inner Kuro, but the fact that he uses a stake to pierce himself and uses it as a weapon that takes the form of the thing that was used to kill Kuro, a stake is used to kill a strigoi to keep them in their coffins.

Regarding inner Kuro's last line, the intended reading is "let's talk" but the other reading says "let's fight".

Also, he uses the verb 引きこもる "hikikomoru" and when you make it into a noun, you get hikikomori which is how Kuro is described. I had to chose a word that would fit both character's lines, because I couldn't have inner Kuro says "hey come on, don't be a shut-in", "or "don't seclude yourself from me", it would have sounded weird.

I think it's clever how Tanaka used that specific verb instead of just saying something like "Hey, don't stand so far away" So yeah, hopefully my insights were helpful :)

[majorproblems77]

Hello LU fans! I'm back with another LU update analysis! :D

Are you ready cause there's so much to unpack I'm gonna be here a while. Like last time I'm gonna put a timer on lmao, see how long this takes me.

As always grab your popcorn and drink of choice, cause we need hydration in this life.

all art belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, and if I pull panels from any other pages I'll let you know where it's from! :D

Obviously spoilers for Dawn 8 :D

And a note, I've not played TP or WW, you'll see why thats important later.

Let us begin, shall we!

Man, Poor wild, he's probably beating himself up like there's no tomorrow right now. He looks HORIFIED.

Probably because in technicality, he failed.

I love how he's holding his sword here too. Kinda acting as a shield to the conversation.

Same expression as wild. He also looks horrified. Infact the resemblance between these two in uncanny.

Man time really is the dad isnt he. Unimpressed dad look at 12'oclock. Jokes aside he doesn't look angry about it. He looks like he now gathering information from those who finished the fight. As we know once he left with Twilight he was the only other one to not make it back to the fight.

Thats a fair sentence, thinking about it, I think the only other game where Iron Knuckles appear is in one of Hyrule's games? I'm surprised he's not mentioned anything about it.

Most of the others do have armoured enemies though. So while the others dont have direct experience I assume they have the basics.

All but, Sky and Wars None of them fight armoured enemies like that in their games.

I assume because he's defeated this thing like it was a guardian (Stasis and then wailing on it cause that's what i would do lmao) He assumed it was defeated when it exploded into pieces. Like guardians are prone to do. tbh he was probably gonna go back to look for loot at some point.

You tell them Wind. The small hero, underestimated by everyone BUT Time. Was correct thank you.

Justice for the windy boy.

God Wild really is beating himself up about this. I love the fact that we see four's reaction to this statement. As to be honest. Over the last few nights, Four and Wild have had plenty of bonding moments. These guys are gonna become best friends.

And now we get Time.

The way he's looking over these panels. That look. He know's he's the leader of this group but something that Time isn't used to is making Permanent mistakes.

He has the Ocarina of Time, and when he was back in Termina every time something went wrong he could just play the song of Time and restart the three-day cycle with no trouble at all.

Time, as a person. Isnt technically used to failing.

This panel is stunning. It's what I assume is going on inside his head. It's so pretty. It's so detailed it's just oh man easily one of my favourite panels.

now you know i had to talk about panels with my beloved blorbo in.

first off he's so pretty. Jojo has really outdone herself with just how amazing these updates have looked. The lighting the shading its all just so incredible.

The first half of this panel with Sky's face. He, He is beating himself up about the injury. He had nothing to do with it but he cares so much about the rest of the group he feels bad. He kinda looks like he's thinking about it. Like he can see it. Like time did but we dont see inside Sky's head.

Makes me think about what exactly he saw.

And Twilight's face, he looks so sad. His little pout. Poor wolf boy, which we can now call you properly as the rest of them know now.

And to be honest I'm glad he's standing his ground. Mr, My injury isn't that bad before falling over. the stubborn ranch hand strikes again.

The parallels from this frame and the one from later have been mentioned elsewhere but I'm just gonna post the frame here as it's turned up. Run you coward lizard. Run.

Captain link is back. Poor warriors, he's still showing signs of being stressed. He's one of the only one's who hasn't been able to rest over the downtime that they've had. He's been busy being in charge of the group while Time was out.

I can only assume it's only a matter of time before this comes back to get him. Maybe he is next on the chopping block? (Pun kinda intended) Something could happen and he messes up and gets hurt of causes someone to get hurt.

oh and also

THE SCARF

THE SCARF THE SCARF

IT HAS RETURNED ALL HAIL THE BLUE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLANKET WARRIORS NEEDED YOU.

None of us did, Hyrule.

The boys ever, I'm glad they are talking about this like this. And that it's legend who's starting to throw ideas out there like this. As the one who's got the most experience in the group, it makes sense that he would be the one to start offering ideas as to Why not just how.

Because you pissed it off Sky. Because half of you pissed it off. In fact I do believe he had a bunch of panels in Shifting Shadows pt2 where you indeed pissed it off.

The entire reason it started running from you and Twilight had to track it was because of FI's reaction to his sword.

Wait... that explains the guilt. It is actually potentially Sky's fault. Or if he's anything like I think he is. He remembers that fight with the shadow and knows.

He knows.

Also, with clenched fist Sky is ready for a fight. Next time the shadow turns up I assume he's gonna go after it when it's inevitablebly goes after Twilight/Wild. Maybe he'll jump in after being told not too because the Master sword appears to be the only thing as of right now that can fight the red stuff that comes off the shadows sword.

did you hear Warriors shiver? I did.

And you'd know all about that wouldn't you Four. :D

Also

Mandatory Sky appreciation picture

Him's my beloved blorbo. He's wonderful. Such a lil guy. Bestest bean. My beloved. /pl

Anyway moving on

Oh yeah, the amount of power that the items list contains We've seen the arsenal that they have between them (in the December art).

We saw what just Time could do.

Now add the rest of them and the enemies dont stand a chance. They've just gotta figure out how to either avoid the weapons of each other or work as a team with the arsenal in hand to fight better.

Like imagine if Twilight used his gale boomerang to send Wild into the air.

(Writer brain go brr, gonna write that down)

It's basically Revalis Gale.

This man is so damn dramatic I love him

And here's the parallel frame

the shadow running towards Warriors vs running away from Twilight.

You know thinking about it... Shadow didn't shapeshift until Twilight did. The push towards Warriors was when shadow thought they were on level footing.

But when Twilight went after Dink, he was the one who had to flee because he lost his advantage.

ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY

The man is pissed that Shadow hurt Twilight. He is so damn mad and I think that he is saying what he would assume Fi would. (With more emotion because well, Fi)

Also that last frame.

TIME AND SKY ANGST ON THE HORIZON?

time is looking towards the master sword. And he looks angry. This will absolutely have gone unnoticed by the others because if they saw he was angry it was probably just because of the conversation topic.

god I love the dynamic here and I'm excited to see if it goes anywhere

Him's I love his simple way of agreeing its wonderful.

I approve to wind let's go blow some stuff up!

Hyrule shows the group why he is called the traveller. The man just wants to go on his adventures let him go!

Sky is so proud of himself

this face says 'Look guys I didn't give it to the weird toilet hand! :D'

I love this man a healthy amount.

One last thing before I go

I love this update as a whole, seeing the group gear up and getting to see the layers of the armour and straps and fastenings being put on while they are having this discussion is amazing.

I'd give you a collection of pictures but Tumblr is being rude and I can't post more than 30. So you can have these as all four panels show what I'm talking about.

Twilight adjusting his gauntlets warriors adjusting his scarf.

Hyrule attaching his shield to his back and putting his sword strap on.

God, I love this update so much. It was amazing and I very much enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! :D

Thank you as ever for reading my rambles i appreciate you :D

Have a wonderful day and dont forget to hydrate! See you next time!

[keigosstarlight]

More Hawks Headcanons💖

Because my last Hawks headcanons post got some attention, I decided to do some more 🥰

This one will have NSFW headcanons, and I'll try to put those under a read more.

SFW

I wasn't sure to put this in NSFW or SFW due to the fact that a lot of the "his wings being sensitive" headcanons are NSFW, but I feel like this is safe enough.

His wings aren't as sensitive as fanon writes. He's been seen letting people touch his wings. (Manga panel below.)

I think, if anything, it's more like touching his arm. Context matters a lot. So, an unexpected flirtatious touch will undoubtedly be different than a fan touching them.

(Sidenote: I'm unsure if his wings being written this way is an actual thing people believe of Hawks, or if it is simply for fanfic works, but at the end of the day, it isn't that serious.)

Hawks survives on coffee. There's just no argument. He's a top hero, so how much sleep can he get? And he's seen drinking cans of coffee in canon, so my headcanon is that he is 75% coffee.

Has a fish tank?? I dont know. I feel like he would really enjoy going home and watching some fish swim around. It relaxes him. He hires someone to care for the tank when he's too busy, though.

Bird man needs big bed for wings. He will sprawl them out. Prepare for him to starfish.

NSFW and CW under the read more!

NSFW

Cw: bruising; praise kink; not just descriptions. I'm using quotes. Prepare for smut. (F!reader - "girl" used in praise.)

This man absolutely loves being on top so he can throw your legs over his shoulders. He loves how your face contorts when he's able to get deeper than you expect. However, after patrol, he is undoubtedly exhausted. Hawks is zooming throughout the city all day, running on nothing but coffee and fumes. You might have to ride him if you want it done, but that's okay because the way he gazes up at you so adoring while his hands grip your hips and he pants praises makes your legs shaking worth it.

He's absolutely a mixture of soft and rough. He'll lovingly whisper in your ear how beautiful you sound when he fucks you, but God damn, he's pounding you to oblivion and he isn't stopping until you're begging for mercy.

"You sound so beautiful when I fuck you like this, such a good girl for me. God, listen to you."

"Use your words for me, baby. Moaning and squirming isn't telling me what you want."

All while one of his hands is gently caressing your face and the other, you're sure, is making bruises on your hip.

He does enjoy doggy style because of the amount of control it gives him, but not seeing your face makes him have to savor the noises and he wants *all* of you. He wants to see how much he's pleasuring you and be able to lean down and give you kisses as he desperately tries to keep moving his hips.

[batbabydamian]

🦇🐥 Batman and Robin (2023) #6 rambling and screaming crying throwing up about a single page

so right off the bat, i'm adding these panels to the Ms. Hall is Shush conspiracy board - the first suspect in mind for who could train Zach would be Principal Stone, but Ms. Hall is conveniently placed in the "teacher's pet" panel HMM

Damian's history with Zsasz is mentioned again! any further reference to Streets of Gotham ends here once Damian and Zsasz face off, but i'm not complaining when Damian gets to kick his ass again LOL

AAH SUCH A COOL PANEL!! i rambled enough about Cizmesija's impact shots last time, but this is just. SO COOL... DAMIAN'S POSE, the light streak from the eyes, the jittery effect at the point of impact from Zsasz's front to his back - LIKE DAMN, YOU KNOW THIS KID HIT HIM HARD

ok i was gonna shut up about the impact shots but to accompany the Robin panel, THIS SICK BATMAN PANEL!! THE SPEED LINES ALONG HIS WHOLE ARM, the hilarious waves of that hit going through Zsasz's face asdfg, the cowl and cape silhouette in the back - and the KRAK SFX!! it's got a bit of that gritty splatter effect Cizmesija uses so either another smooth choice by letterer Steve Wands or extra kudos to Cizmesija!!

i thought the action would be my favorite aspect of this issue, but it was THE EXPRESSIONS. from Damian's frustration here (his glare and his seriously gritted teeth) to the page that brought me to my knees lol

a breakdown of my breakdown for this page:

DAMIAN'S WIDE EYED EXPRESSION AT BRUCE'S COMPLIMENT, THE SHINE IN HIS EYES!! what gets me about Bruce’s praise is how specific it is, especially pointing out Damian’s storytelling 😭 Bruce already knows Damian’s technical art skills are amazing!! storytelling through comics is a whole different skill and Bruce recognized that!! 😭 no wonder Damian is so touched, Bruce is paying attention 😭

HE LOOKS SO OVERWHELMED BY THE VALIDATION FROM HIS FATHER - THE TENTATIVE SMILE!! BEFORE HE BREAKS OUT INTO A FULL GRIN!! 😭

HOW HE BURSTS ABOUT HIS PROCESS AND THEN THE LIL ASIDE OF “I love those…” HE'S SO CAUGHT UP IN HIS JOY PLEASE I’M COUGHING UP BLOOD THAT'S SO CUTE 😭 happy Damian is my weakness i mean LOOK AT HIM OH MY GOD the wide smile his lil fist and the pointing, he cannot contain himself!! 😭

his art is so fun, i'm glad we get to see more of this!! the shadow of Bruce and Damian over the pages is a neat touch too! Damian expanding from realistic renders to this manga style on top of these amazing comic layouts…Bruce is right his growth is crazy 😭

to add on to Damian's progress from Bruce's eyes - Detective Comics (2016) #1003 was the last time Bruce acknowledged Damian's art!

the return of Flatline!! for this last bit, i'll be referencing Lazarus Planet: The Next Evolution (2023) since that's Nika's last notable appearance!

Nika calling Damian out on not contacting her asdfg she mentions something similar before, and i could only imagine it's been months since then considering that issue came out a whole year ago 😭

besides Nika meeting Bruce, the most important thing that needs to be addressed is if Damian's aware that she resurrected Ra's and finally, what they could have discussed??

ending note, upgrade from earbuds in Batman and Robin (2011) to headphones haha wired earphones only!!

[notakoala]

Title cover by me, please ask for permission to use. Not the panel but the editing :)

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–——–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

Todoroki's sick?

This is just a drabble for the moment but if I post this hooray you get to see what sort of lovesick lonely relationship I want.

ITS A COMPLETE SLOWBURN PLEASE DONT HATE ME

Contains: Vomit, Illness, Spoilers.

Todoroki gets sick? Thank god your there to help him you pitiful bastard.

Your in your last year of U.A, just after your exams he gets sick. Where did Shouto go?

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

"Todoroki Shouto." The same monotone voice came from your tired teacher, had his eyebags dropped even more? His eyes had surely gotten more red. He looks stoned, you wish you could be too.

Zoning out for a second too long you feel a glare from your teacher who had probably said your name mote than three times by now, flicking his scarf to slide right past your ear, a whooshing sound which jolted you out of your zoned out state.

It was the same silence, the same silence that had gone on for the past three days. Time doesn't normally matter to you, the world moves either to quick or too slow so you do your own thing.

"Focus or I'll make you run laps."

You flinch and look directly at your teacher who had moved towards your desk, black eyes slowly emitting the gloomy red that scared you sometimes. Sitting up straighter then you had ever sat you gave him a small smile before nodding a small apology. Thank god he was tired or he might have probably killed you by now.

"Ah, [Your Name]. Is there something bothering you?" Uraraka asked beside you quietly as you all began writing. To which you turned to see her eyes locked with yours.

You respond with a quick 'hm' shaking your head trying not to worry your friend, shifting your focus back to your writing as you tried not to think about specific things.

'I wonder where Todoroki is...'

'Is he with his dad? Maybe his mum...'

You shake your head and pinch your arm to refocus feeling a hint of heat on the tips of your ears. Your eyes staring intensely at the word 'mixture'.

'Fuck, that's also like him.'

Rubbing your temples now, and running a hand behind the back of your neck and pressing down on the sore spot that had grown increasingly through the pressure of homework and assignments, Hero work too.

A low muttering came from Midoryia, he was back to his usual ways even while Mr Aizawa spoke in his colourless voice. And Ashido and Kaminari were whispering to each other trying to get some form of idea as to what to write.

If you were completely honest you didn't know what to write either, the work was something about Physical and Quirk development, which was a pain when you had learned majority of it in middle school.

Yet you didn't know what to write, even if you knew about what you were learning, you still didn't know what to write. Maybe it was the three assignments that you turned in earlier today, maybe you were just burnt out.

Aizawa's words were now muffled through your thoughts as you doodled over your pages of lined, neat work. They weren't the best but they were cute enough to stay in your book.

"But sir this is too difficult!" Mina and Denki whined in unison, snapping you out of your stage of drawing and listening into the bickering, Bakugou yelling at them from across the room.

"Shuddap. If you werent so stupid maybe you would understand!"

Aizawa sighed yet again, sleep deprived probably, maybe an insomniac. "Bakugou, get back to your own work."

After a miniature altercation between Aizawa and Bakugou, it ended with Bakugou going quiet and grumbling as he continued working and Aizawa scolding Mina and Denki.

Uraraka was giggling beside you, covering her smirk and lowering her head further than what it usually is and trying to compose herself. Her brown hair was definitely longer than what it was in your first year, down to her shoulders now.

She complained that it was getting too long and that she needed to cut it but she didn't have the money, so when Momo offered to pay she declined and said that her hair was fine the way it was.

Even if she was your friend she's a little too anxious about money, even if it was ten dollars. You knew it was because of her background but she's going to be paid a shit ton in the future, if she continued with her path of being a pro.

You ponder on the small parts that you were thinking of before. 'Three days.', was the main thought as you were distracted yet again, which ended with the sake old lecture about listening and paying attention by Aizawa.

***

"[Your Name!" Tsuyu and Mina ran after you, the entire of U.A walking the same paths as the rest of the years. It was your last year, last year of all of this. It sparks an anxious pain in your chest but at the same time motivation.

You turn to face your two friends and Mina practically jumps into your arms and nearly takes the both of you to the floor. And now your winded as Tsu drags Mina off you.

"Are you going to come to dinner tonight?" Tsu asks, her croaky voice comes from her, shorter than Mina and you but thankfully taller than that purple balled idiot. He hurt your neck often when he gave you creepy smiles and all his perverted stuff.

A shrug comes from your shoulders which ends with a pampering Mina begging you not to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of winter holidays. A short answer came from your lips and Tsu's tongue was sticking out as she smiled warmly.

"Probably not, I gotta get this resume in."

Tsu nodded and pulled at Mina's shirt and trying to usher her away as to not hold you back any longer. She might not have spoke many words but she's very expressive through her emotions.

Eventually she was picked off bit by bit, and the dormitory was around a minute away walking. You were tired, but now having to write up a resume that you were planning on doing a week earlier, didn't happen. The procrastination got to you before you even started.

So you began walking, thinking about how to start on your resume even though it was simple, obviously you had to start with your full name, address... 'Would it be the dorm number or just U.A?' The thought ran through your mind before getting thrown into the many other thoughts.

You gave a small wave to Sato who was watering some of the flowers that the class planted earlier this year. He waved back only a few seconds after you, and by then you were already at the steep of the stairs. Pushing the doors open to the smell of Bakugou's food.

Ignoring the smell you looked at the elevator before taking the stairs, you were only on the first floor anyway. It was a flight of stairs, the least you could do is not be lazy.

When you unlocked your door, the small 'rodent' so you claim it to be meowed and purred against your leg.

"Hey Asana, what'cha doing pretty?" You ran a hand along the curled soft hair of your cat, you weren't really supposed to have pets in the dorms but they didn't have to know about him.

Sure, Asana was a male cat with a girl's name, but he didn't know that. He can't understand English, sometimes that makes you suspicious of him. So you shut the door behind you, picking him up and smooching his head three times before he places a paw to your nose.

"You stink."

Asana responded with a long meow, of course. He wanted food, you place him on the ground and sort him out. Flopping onto your bed with a groan of relief when the softness of the cushion collides with your back.

In less than a second, the little rodent you loved so much had jumped on you and was making biscuits on your chest, putting all his weight on his front paws, making you wheeze in pain, how could a cat be so heavy?

He purred loudly and soon after fell asleep on you, which left you scrolling on your phone and typing up this resume that you definitely needed to do before you left school. And of course it would probably take three seconds to finish, but you had sooooo many other things to do. One of them was steal Bakugou's recipe cause damn his cooking is amazing, he would mind so you would have to do it in secret.

Did he even have a recipe to follow? It would surprise you if you didn't, maybe Sato could help. Bakugou never seemed to mind him helping with cooking, he'd prefer him cleaning or doing something else. But only a grumble would be his response.

Thinking over your plan you knew it wouldn't help, you were already on social media and Mina had posted a class photo, Sato was there as well. Damn, he probably ran so he wasn't late.

It was already dark, maybe you could order in. You didn't have much energy to cook anyway, Bakugou definitely wouldn't waste his precious time cooking for you anyway, you were 'a pain in the ass'.

'Ah, I forgot about Todoroki.'

The thought that crossed through your mind from earlier today had reached you again, Midoryia said that he wasn't out with family. Iida said that he had probably become ill, with his continuous efforts at school.

"Asana, should I message him?" You ask your cat, he wasn't going to respond. Either a meow or his ears twitching would be the response.

He was dead asleep. On your chest, curled ears twitching when you sighed deeply and looked at the name on your screen, 'Shouto'. He had a small emoji next to his name, thanks to your creativity of putting what their quirks were as emoji's.

After a long groan and thinking you fumble around messaging him quickly.

'Hey Todoroki, I was wondering how you are doing since you haven't been at school.'

Sent.

Fuck.

Squeezing Asana'a pretty white fur he responded back with a low purr. Three minutes go by, feels like forever and the embarrassment of messaging someone you don't usually message. Ah, this is shit.

Your phone lights up, the notification carxges your eye.

Shouto 🧊🔥

'I'm unwell.'

Dry text. As usual, it didn't bother you as much as it used to, he's gotten better since first year.

'Would you like me to get you something?'

You message back immediately, the heat rushing to your face.

Shouto🧊🔥

'Porridge and Orange juice?'

Was all he replied before you sat up, Asana jumping off and getting comfy on your bed, maybe you should change. Sweats and a singlet? Yep.

Grey pants and a black singlet was what you wore, bringing up a hot bowl of porridge and a carton of Orange juice that was in the fridge, wasn't yours but you'll buy another one for whoever complains.

He was on the fifth floor, wasn't a preference, you would complain if you had to go up five floors.

You reach his room that was labelled with his name, Todoroki. And you knock on the door, it was dead quiet. Usually you would be able to hear Jiro playing her instruments but she was gone as well.

The door clicks open and you see Todoroki, taller than you. His hair a mess and both of his hair colours mixing with eachother, he has showered. But he looks like a mess.

"Can I come in?"

You ask quietly and he covers his cough with his elbow, nodding and turning around so you can go inside his dorm. Very traditional, you saw it a few times while studying with Sero. He cleans regularly, but it's gotten messy since he's been sick.

There was a bucket next to his bed, has he been really sick? Maybe Gastro.

"Sit back down I don't wanna make you run around or something." You usher him back to his futon, you have the kindest expression on and aren't trying to push him around too much.

The room has a hint of sickness in it too, maybe you would get sick too. Oh well.

He sits down with his legs crossed and looks up at you, his face puffy and his hair still a mess, he looks like his gaze is a blur and you gently give him the porridge.

"Have you been eating?"

This is awkward, first you had to message him and now your stuck in his room, with him when he is sick. Your eyes wander and he eats the porridge slowly, blowing on the spoon a few times and switching off his phone. He nods to your question, responding back in a sick and croaked speech.

"Mhm, not much."

Your breath tightened, his voice was usually deepish and monotone but when he's sick. Jesus, gonna take the life outta you.

In less than a second that all changes when he leaps towards the plastic bucket beside his futon and gags profusely, throwing up the porridge he had eaten mere seconds earlier, his stomach trying to throw up on an empty stomach now.

You quickly make your way towards him and kneel down beside him, he puts a hand out to stop you but you move his hair out of the way. It had gotten longer throughout the years but your pretty sure he's been missing his hair appointments.

"Come on Todoroki! Why didn't you let us know." Grumbling beside his ear, he wipes his mouth before sitting back up again, washing his mouth out with the cup of water beside the bucket and spitting it into the bucket.

He goes to stand up, but you keep him sat down, giving him the carton of orange juice that you had brought earlier, were you holding that while keeping his hair out of the way?

"What are you doing?" He asks in the same groggy probably drugged up voice while watching you pick up the vomit filled bucket and taking it to the toilet in his room.

You look back at him, pushing the toilet seat up and pouring the foul substance into the toilet. Flushing it before closing the lid. "You need to rest. Your not getting up unless I'm gone."

Strong tone and using the shower head in the bathroom to rinse the bucket, you turn your head to see if he agrees.

"It's only a stomach bug."

"A stomach bug that makes you look like your about to die."

"Every illness makes you look like that."

"Your not getting up unless you need to go to the toilet. Your quirk is going to drain your energy so don't use that either."

He sighs, not wanting to argue and knowing you were kind of right, he hated to admit it but he actually liked that you cared for him like that. He had gotten used to looking out for himself but when his friends and classmates helped him he realised he also had to look out for others.

"Fine."

He couldn't help it however. He wasn't that sick, right?

You sit down beside him on his futon and look at the half eaten bowl of porridge, he was drinking the juice in hand and staring at you with those oh so beautiful eyes. But it's when he leans over and rests his head on your shoulder that makes you freeze.

"Thanks."

Was all he spoke before closing his eyes and breathing in your scent, you were confused as to why he had done so. Maybe he liked you? Is he clingy when he's sick?

You chuckle and pat his back, he was already relaxed into you but your physical touch made him melt, his body weight becoming evident on your body. So you use majority of your strength to keep sitting up, while adjusting to his weight.

His eyes were closed against you and his breathing became quieter and quieter until you almost could mistake him for being dead. It was soon you realised you were both breathing at the same pace. Did that always happen when two were so close?

Spotting a damp rag on the floor, you pick it up to feel if it is still cold, it wasn't. You couldn't move yet because he was practically attached to you. Jolting when you moved even an inch, so now you were laying down beside him on the single futon. His head against your arm and his arm along your waist.

This wasn't like him, for sure. Was he mistaking you for someone else? Your hoping he's not, cause whoever he would be thinking about like this. Wasn't you.

"It's cold." He speaks quietly, it's only then that you realise the chill in the air. It was already night? But the sun was up, you checked your phone that was sat in your pocket. Your eyes widen at the time. Two hours?!

Two hours had gone by and you could have finished this resume. You couldn't have wished for anything better, or worse? Todoroki Shouto was asleep on you, but you needed to finish this resume.

"Todoroki-"

"Shouto."

"Uh- Alright then. Shouto, I have to get this resume done."

He grumbled and geld onto you tighter, looking up at you, oh lord, he was adorable. Looking up at you with his opposite coloured eyes and pouting ever so slightly.

"Just do it in here."

"Ok then."

Why would you want to argue with him like that? You felt a sense of pity because he was sick, but also because he actually wanted you to stay with him? Your living a dream that you so desperately don't want to end. Maybe if he was well this would send you head over heels.

***

"Hey Todoroki! Where's [Your Name]?" Mina asks with her usual bubbly attitude, staring up at the taller boy with her 'raccoon eyes' as others have said.

Todoroki looks up from the book he was writing in, locking eyes with Mina, Asui was standing next to her with her frog-like tongue sticking out as he responded, scratching the side of his neck.

"She's not feeling well."

"What?!" Mina exclaims, her hands coming to the top of her pink curls quickly as she looked shocked. "She didn't even go anywhere! How did she get sick?"

"She came to visit me when I was sick." He replied back in a monotone speech and got back to writing whatever was on the board. Not knowing how excited Mina looked when she turned to Asui and giggled running off.

'Did I say something wrong?'

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–——–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

This story is officially FINSIHED! I know I definitely lost some sort of motivation towards the end, I hate slowburns but I do say so myself. This is alright.

Proofread!

Thank you for all the support I have been getting! d=(^o^)=b

[twogeeseinatrenchcoat]

"...A Woman???" -BSD

Can we all take a moment to remember this panel?

Great. Now let's talk.

WHY WAS THIS THEIR FIRST REACTION?????? Like, they see a dead body, and the first thing they have to say is "oh my god it's a girl." Nothing else. Not mentioning any other details. Just... Woman. Totally normal thing to be surprised about.

Also, because of this scene (I've watched the anime but not read the manga, planning on reading Beast and maybe Dead Apple so I'll get the references) I have a headcannon that she's just... The only woman to ever die, or something along those lines. Like, there are no murder cases when a woman is killed, ever. Because why not?

Also, I'd like to point out Atsushi in the background. Let's all just take a moment to appreciate the fact that he looks almost exactly like that "guy with the hand over his mouth" meme. Y'all know what I'm talking about, right?

[max1461]

Thought for a moment in the 2010s that we were entering a new serious era (e.g. 1920s, 30s, 40s), but it seems that we're instead in an increasingly tacky era (50s, 60s, 70s). Like look at the change in YouTube. Well you all are textheads you don't do video, I know that. But like. In 2017 there was ContraPoints. Agree or disagree with her opinions, what she was doing was conceptually and aesthetically serious. Even her early, low-production-value stuff. She was talking about incels and other internet shit, but the internet is part of the real world, that's fine. In fact that's what gave me hope for another serious era, people were finally talking about internet stuff the way 1920s German intellectuals or whatever talked about the cultural trends of their day. Maybe because Contra has half a philosophy PhD and was explicitly influenced by those German intellectuals.

Another example from a totally disjoint cultural niche was Digi a.k.a. Trixie a.k.a. Ygg Studios or whatever they go by now. Drunk, smelly, and unkempt—yes. Or at least so went the persona. Talking seriously about anime—also yes. When they claimed they were the only good anime reviewer on the internet it made a lot of people mad. But they were right!

There were thinkers, we had thinkers. My generation, or roughly my generation, had thinkers. To be clear, when I include Contra here I'm not including all of her ilk, I'm not including the leftist-theory-regurgitators and so on. But Contra herself was a thinker! Digi was a thinker! We had thinkers.

But that era is over now, on YouTube at least. I go on there and it's all algorithmic drivel. I look for anime content and as I've explained it's all about #hype and #epic and how the new season of whatever #hits different and other empty meaningless bullshit. No analysis, no thought, fundementally unserious bullshit. Tacky! It's tacky! The the YouTube thumbnail O-face is fucking 70s-ass fake wood paneling tacky bullshit!

MrBeast. I've never seen a MrBeast video but I hate him for what he represents. I used to watch this channel called Wranglerstar, he made videos about different types of axes and forest fire fighting equipment and various other stuff. "Modern homesteading" I believe was the tagline. And it was always evident that he was a far-right guy but who gives a shit, his videos where good. Serious videos about interesting topics, that a fucking normal guy might watch. Well around 2020 he basically started flooding his channel with covid conspiracy bullshit and "the Chinese are going to attack us any day!" bullshit and other unserious crap. And I had to stop watching. How could I find any of that compelling? It's vapid nonsense.

And I don't know if it's a shift in the algorithm or people becoming more savvy to the algorithm or what, but all of YouTube is like this now. Vapid clickbait empty meaningless bullshit for another tacky commercialized bullshit era.

And you know, I felt like it might just be localized to YouTube for a while, but I started to look around, and it just feels like everything is like this. Backsliding to the tacky times. God I hate tackiness. I hate unseriousness. I'm having a little meltdown. At least SMW kaizo hacks are having a renaissance. People are doing serious shit in that space, serious shit that is also not anachronistic, you know, it's kept up with the modern world. It addresses modern concerns (fun to play hard Mario). But it's serious. People are serious. One of the few serious things happening in my orbit.

Even in science it feels like people aren't serious anymore. You know, standard Sabine Hossenfelder complaint about particle physics. But I don't really know enough about that to say. Get the vibe that biology is still serious these days.

To be clear, everything I'm saying here is pure vibes. I'm just saying shit. I'm just saying shit that I feel. But I'll be deeply disappointed if I have to live my youth in another tacky era, god damn it. Even the 80s seem like they were better than this.

[comicaurora]

Out of curiosity, how far ahead are you on the comic? I mean, you must have it all planned and written out, but I imagine that you are drawing the future of Aurora even while we're reading it.

So is Arc 2 already illustrated and ready for upload while you're on like Arc 5 or something? I'm by no means undermining your need for a break; I'm shocked that you've been uploading continuously for over 4 years at this point. I'm just interested to know how long it takes a person to make something this great. And also if you change any details in the final edit?

Basically: what's the workflow like?

Also I think you low-key inspired me to pick up painting as a hobby. I'm ready to pour so much money into creating things that I know I'll hate. :)

God, arc 5? That's a very generous assessment of how fast I can draw!

Typically, when the comic is updating regularly, I keep a buffer of 10 to 20 completed pages. Right now, in the interest of taking a break, the buffer is 0 completed pages.

Chapter 1 of Arc 2 is completely storyboarded, meaning it's sketched out, the dialog is all mostly finalized barring last-minute rephrasements, etc. It can be read in its current form, it just looks unpretty. In fact, just for fun, here's a sneak peek!

In the next month I'll go through and finalize as many pages from this chapter as possible - which means locking down the panel borders, fleshing out the backgrounds, lining, shading, coloring, polish, etc. - which will be the process of building up a new buffer for when the comic starts back up again in January. During that time, I'll also be storyboarding Chapter 2 and as much of the following parts as I can manage.

I have the next several chapters and sub-arcs planned out in loose timelines - event A happens at location B leading to consequences C and D, stuff like that. Chapter 2, being the closest, is a little more fleshed-out, with a more detailed bullet-pointed timeline and various character ideas I've had that might or might not make it into the final version.

What exactly the chapter breakdown is going to look like is a little more complicated. Initially I'd planned for Chapter 1 to be low-stakes downtime and Chapter 2 to quickly kick off the high-octane adventure again, but when I started bullet-pointing out the stuff I wanted to do in Chapter 2, I ended up with a big pile of slower-paced character moments I thought were well worth exploring, so the runtimes might stretch a little.

Translating those brainstormed notes into storyboards and dialog is what I would classify as the "writing" part of this process. It happens at an erratic pace largely determined by the whims of whatever muse decides to get me in a headlock that day; sometimes I go weeks with no storyboarding progress, sometimes I hammer out fifteen pages in one day.

It's kinda like weaving, to me. The soon-to-be-arriving parts of the story are the most finalized, the most densely woven. A little ways beyond that, things get looser - some patterns may be locked down, but the actual work that'll hold it together hasn't been done yet. And in the far-flung future arcs, it's just the basic bones of the story and a pile of the threads I've planned to use. I know the shape of it, but in order for it to be fun and engaging for me to make it, I need to give myself room to be creative when I'm putting the whole thing together.

I actually have a file called the "Toolbox" that contains every random character or subplot idea I've had, and sometimes when I'm debating where to go with a chunk of story, I'll crack it open and scan through to see if anything jumps out begging to be used. Lotta fun stuff in there that may or may not ever see the light of day. Dropping stuff in the Toolbox is one of the most fun and freeing parts of the process for me!

[quixtrix]

let's talk BL manga lore; on grooming, identity, and racism

spoilers for the official captain laserhawk bl manga ofc, plus brief discussion of grooming I've refrained from speaking about it because of spoilers, but it's been well over a month and I believe that it's time to openly discuss it. if you would still like to read the manga before reading this discussion, here's the link to buy a physical copy and you can search up 'Captain Laserhawk: Crushing Love' in your digital book store for it. okay time to talk about two, basically three subjects; racism, identity, and grooming. i'm starting with the grooming first, because that's the main focus of this manga. i would have to preface this by saying i've already discussed this topic in an earlier post (albeit it is a prediction, but it is a spot on prediction.) i'll briefly elaborate on it right now with what we know.

dolph's very first day with alex was carefully calculated to where dolph would be exposed to the world, but heavily rely on alex. he is shown around to alex's friends and is able to buy his own clothes, but it is under the heavy scrutiny of alex. alex ultimately decides what dolph wears, alex decides how the day goes, alex leads dolph. even when they have a beach day, take note of how alex holds dolph, dragging him around.

even the romance and the events leading up to when alex takes dolph's virginity are calculated. note how alex grasps dolph's hand, grabbing on tight enough to almost press down on his knuckles, loosening his hand, making dolph relinquish control. the context for the fight page is that after their sweet lil beach day, alex takes dolph down an alley where alex knows that he'll come across people who aren't the fondest of him. this event was calculated, alex knew it was going to happen, and he used it to test out his new lil boytoy.

also, alex taking dolph out to fight isn't just so he can get in the pants of a barely 18 year old. while holloway notes during this flashback that adrenaline is the greatest aphrodisiac, this is a test to see how good the new weapon he picked up is. how the new boy works, to see how eden's boy robot can benefit his group, not just him. its literally in the morning panels we get where alex talks with that woman, anna. they're talking about how loaded he is with tech, and while alex does consider that, he still actively thirsts over dolph.

also im jus saying if i personally was talking with one of my greatest confidants and they refer to someone i'm thirsting over as KID, i would personally be icked out. i would have a conscious and not do some weird shit, like literally refer to dolph in passing as kid in the next page. dolph aint even the first one who alex has done this shit to, as evident by this line by one of his friends, grace.

alex is a groomer and groomed dolph, case closed.

anyways! time to get on with what i really wanted to talk about, how racism and loss of idenity ties into dolph's character!

in this manga, during pillow talk between dolph and alex, we get dolph's backstory. dolph literally has only known this man for a day and he's giving him lore because alex treats him more normal than eden did. god. ANYWAYS ENOUGH DWELLING ON DOLPH BEING A VICTIM IN ALL WAYS INCLUDING BEING ONE OF THE OXFORD STUDY, we get to know about his brief life before eden took him in.

now let me turn for a moment to the show, and how we were told about dolph's backstory. this is VASTLY different than what we got in the show, with it being implied that dolph's parents were a white prostitute and a darkskinned immigrant man. this adds onto the idea that this supposedly impoverished, crack addicted boy came into this world not as an act of love, but as a mistake. not just a mistake though, his parents are supposedly the epitome of immoral, a prostitute and a criminal. not to mention that this also ties into the idea of the uncultured brown man and pure white woman, basically a racist idea that the scary immigrants who aren't like us good white christian americans (and honestly jus any homogenous group in general, though in america its ofc more applicable to white people), are corrupting our mother marys, our women. eden takes on this perspective in order to subconsciously frame in the minds of post american viewers the idea of this man as an other that they are helping and didn't at all snatch up from his mother for child experimentation. the concept of other is something that finds it's origins in fascism, and in order to mask the presence of said fascism, someone who is seen as apart of the other is given a seat at the table with the collective us, (as in the majority, or the ones that are supposedly superior), and will ultimately serve as an example of why the other are labelled as such. i go into this more with my rayman analysis. I brought up the specific portrayal of dolph's backstory from eden's documentary to showcase how eden has manipulated the view people have of this man. eden has not only manipulated the view of the in universe audience, but eden has manipulated our view.

in the propaganda documentary, we are shown photos of this man being a captain, someone of relatively high rank in the military. you can't even normally earn that through having an education, you'd have to have years of experience. he's portrayed as older than he is.

another thing, dolph fans, let's be honest with ourselves; before the manga, it was not uncommon to headcanon that man as a FREAK. with both the supposed images of dolph at a nightclub and the flashback of alex and dolph meeting outside a club, it wasn't too hard to think that the hottest man alive in that show who was fully born human was a freak. a sexual deviant. someone that a christian mother would be horrified enough by that she faints. the manga however, shows us that dolph really isn't any of that. hell, he didn't even get to go to a club before he met alex. in reality, he's around 18 years and his only sexual experience is his groomer.

say that again with me, he's around 18. he's just around 18, he's a young adult, and the environment he's grown up in has stunted him by treating him as a subject, a thing, cutting him off from anything that would humanise this child by not allowing him to see his mother. hell, even his childhood best friend serves eden by being the one in his ear, having him at her beck and call all in the name of eden.

we get none of dolph's true backstory in the show for any number of reasons. maybe it's on purpose, maybe it's a result of having to possibly cut down episodes, who knows? what matters though is that this adds a layer to the core problem defining dolph's life; the perspective others have on him warping who he is.

back to the pages with dolph's memories of his mother, we see dolph as he was when he was just a boy. he's his mama's boy, her son, a child. even when eden takes him in, he stubbornly clings to that bit of him that's pure, untainted by the idea of him being an experiment, a tool. this bit of him, this hint towards who he is supposed to be as a person, is something he clings to desperately. it leads him to follow eden's orders again because they promise that they've found his mother.

and yknow what happened with who dolph was told was supposedly his mother?

she was just a random ass indian woman.

wasn't even the right woman. they just used his identity issues because he's indian, and she was indian and in a cult that eden needed to take care of.

this, while admittedly is kind of funny, (like the confusion is funny in the moment look at ts) is actually fucked up crazy racism. they literally said that this random ass woman who happened to be indian was his mother like HELL!?!??!?!?

this insane fr. lucy didn't even double check LIKE GIRL THAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR FRIEND'S MOTHER WHO HE HASNT SEEN SINCE HE WAS LIKE 6 AND YOU DIDNT EVEN DOUBLE CHECK IF SHE'S THE RIGHT PERSON?!?!?!?

moving on from that, this actually brings up a deeper layer of dolph's identity issues; the lack of cultural identity.

i want to preface this by saying that i am not entirely sure if this is the right term for this identity issue nor am i claiming to be an expert on the type of identity crisis that i am about to discuss. that being said, this specific disconnect of cultural identity that dolph has is actually reminiscent of those adopted from other countries, or transnational adoptees. there seems to be a need within these adoptees to find out more about their own heritage or their own mothers and families that they now struggle to find. while dolph does not actively go out to reconnect with his heritage, he does exhibit desires to find his birth mother. this type of identity issue seems to ask the question of 'what could I have been if...?,' and it tends to mess with the idea of the self. adoptees that struggle with this question hold a desire to go back, to almost reclaim what would have been. yes, dolph is not adopted into a family, but he is still a child under the care of eden, which became like his family, which is why i believe that this kind of identity issue could reasonably be applied to dolph. it explains why he does what he does in the manga, and how it's ultimately wrapped up by him losing this desire and moving forward. albeit he moves forward by alex instead becoming his main purpose, but this serves as the first chain of the past that he leaves behind. with this, he severs a tie that would have made him continue to be stuck under eden's control, and possibly find himself. he answers the question of what could have been with 'it doesn't matter anymore.'

but actually, he doesn't answer that question. he leaves it be.

i am reading way too into this tho lol. i would say that he doesn't explicitly say it, and that we do see a lack of dolph's past being used against him in that way because dolph has freed himself from that part, but in reality, it's because eden can't pull the same trick twice. im aware that the manga focuses HARD on dolph's grooming, but i feel like they really could have properly wrapped up dolph's identity arc with his mother if it was acknowledged at the end, but i fear we are left unsatisfied. that's one of my gripes with the manga. it gives us things that tie up loose ends, but some of these ties have entirely missed the holes they were supposed to secure. but what is done is what's done, and here we are.

tl;dr, dolph was groomed by alex. dolph's identity has also been warped by eden heavily, by how they dehumanised him as a child to be a weapon internally, to how he's shown to the public to be a case that they've saved, and yet he still becomes something that is "disgraceful." textbook example of this poor boy that we have saved that is actually jus like all the others that we know. dolph also suffers under similar identity issues as adopted children do, and this specific issue of his is let go in order to allow him to begin moving on and finding himself.

as always, im open to discussion and critique! my askbox is open as well if you want me to yap abt smth else in the show :P

[resowrites]

Suspicious Minds - oneshot.

Summary: Henry attempts to put a cot together…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2099

A/N: Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Suspicious Minds - oneshot.

The noises from the nursery were growing louder and louder. Eventually, she decided she'd have to go investigate. She pushed back the door to find Henry in the middle of the room, kneeling over a booklet of instructions. Nuts, bolts, and long planks of wood were scattered everywhere. "Good God, it sounded like a gorilla enclosure in here… I'll have to put a picture of you on the wall with all the other animals—"

"I'm trying to put this sodding cot together, okay?! The instructions are a bloody nightmare…"

"Well, can I help? Surely it can't be that difficult, it's only four sides after all."

"No, it's fine. I don't want you doing any lifting—"

"Well that's not like you…" He rolled his eyes.

"Still, I'd rather we erred on the safe side." She huffed and leaned against the wall while Henry muttered to himself. "Take a seat, I want you off your feet."

"Yes, m'lord! Shall I have a kip while I'm at it?" He locked eyes with her again.

"Why, are you feeling tired? Darling you must rest—"

"Henry I was joking! Stop being such a fusspot. And hand me those instructions or they'll have left home by the time you're finished." Henry sighed but handed her them nonetheless. "Right, first thing's first, do we have all the parts?" He cast a glance around him.

"As far as I can tell—"

"Good, now do you understand that a failure to heed the warnings and follow the assembly instructions could cause serious injury and/or death?"

"Will you just get on with it?!"

"Calm your knickers! If you want I'll wait while you go look for a hard hat…" Henry harrumphed. "Okay, so first you're gunna want to attach middle rear leg E to middle panel A1…" She looked at the pieces dotted around his feet. "Those two bits there, you'll also need three fifty-five millimetre bolts—"

"Fifty-five? That can't be right…" He grabbed the booklet from her hands.

"I think you'll find it is. And don't forget the Allen key—"

"Yes, I know that! Bloody woman pointing out the obvious…" Henry mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, love. Right, what now?" He finished tightening the last screw and awaited the next instruction.

"Okay, you need to insert three wooden dowels into those holes…" Henry looked up and eyed her suggestively. "Oh, stop it! And they need to go there, not in those ones."

"… Are you sure we aren't having sex?" She rolled her eyes.

"Right, you now need to attach slats H through four with five dowels."

"Just five?"

"Yes you gobshite, now do as you're bloody told—" He tutted.

"Fine, where do they need to be slotted?"

"Well bend over and I'll take a look—"

"Lovely, are there any more you want me to stick up there?!"

"Yeah, bars F, G, thirteen, and four need to go on the other side. Come on, shift it, I don't have all day!" Henry scrambled for the right pieces and hammered them into position. "You can also take your tank top off if you want, make things a bit more exciting…"

"I thought you weren't in the mood?"

"Well, it's hardly a turn-on having to tell you what to do—"

"Since when?! And give me that, if you can follow it it should be a piece of piss…"

"Should be but isn't." She bit back a laugh when he looked up at her annoyed.

"Christ, I don't understand any of this… why would the forty-five-millimetre bolts need to go in the back and not the longer ones?"

"Cos longer's usually better?"

"Oh just shut up and hand me six of the M6 bolts please!"

"You sure they're the right ones and not just the ones you want to use? Anyway, you're closer, I thought you didn't want me to lean down?!" Henry huffed. "Nope, those aren't the right ones…" He snapped to his feet.

"Fine! You do it Miss Smart Arse, seeing as I'm the one who apparently can't read instructions—"

"Well are you sure you're reading the English side, not the French?" Henry turned to storm off. "Whoa there Nelly, I was only joking. God, what's gotten into you? Why are you taking this so seriously?"

"Because I want to be able to do as much as I can for you both. It's bad enough I'm already forty—"

"Wait, hang on. What do you mean?" He looked down at the floor, his eyes beginning to well.

"I mean, I'll be an older dad Ollie. I won't get the same amount of time with them as you will…" She tilted her head sadly and cupped Henry's face in her hands. "Then there'll be the times I won't be here and that'll rob me of them even more."

"Oh, darling. Look… nothing in life is promised. What I do know for sure is they'll be surrounded by so much love. You're going to be a fantastic dad, Henry. There's no one else I'd rather have in your place. Well… no one I've met." They smirked at each other.

"You're right. Besides, you could always go first…" She kicked him in the shin.

"As if I'd get that lucky! Remember though, I work for myself and you also have a lot of flexibility. But either way, I'll do everything I can to make sure you get as much time with them as possible. I mean, not too much of course, that would hardly be right…" Henry smiled at her again.

"You'd really do that for me?"

"For the three of us, of course! I don't want you to miss out on them growing up either. We're a team, remember? And baby's not going to change that." He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You make me so happy." She tutted.

"Soppy bollocks…" But they shared a kiss and Henry held her close, gazing down at the bump hitting his stomach. "I'm sorry, I was just panicking. You're showing now and it's feeling that much more real—"

"I know sweetheart, I worry about what kind of parent I'm going to be as well. But we both learned a lot from our childhoods and I'm sure we'll make the right choices." She gave him another kiss, patted his chest, and smiled. "For now though I think I’ll leave you to it, the instructions just repeat themselves for the next few pages so you should survive…" Henry gave her an anxious look.

"I'm sorry I'm not more handy, either. God, I just don't understand it… I can put a PC together but not a bloody cot!"

"Yeah, cos you're overthinking it! So long as it doesn't collapse inwardly on our child, I can't ask for anymore." He smirked and spanked her backside.

"Go on, get out of here. I'd rather go without your encouragement if that's the best you can do!" She gave Henry a wink and disappeared from the room.

***

"Knock, knock, how are you getting on?" She opened the door to find the cot almost finished. The view of their nearly complete nursery took her breath away. "Wow, I knew you could do it! And it only took the rest of the day…" He tutted as he picked up some spare screws from off the floor. "Seriously though, it looks great, how hard was it in the end?"

"Not bad actually, I mean I almost threw it out of the window at one point, but I made it work."

"Oh, I thought that was one of our neighbour's screaming 'fuck’ at the top of their lungs…" She then eyed the screws in Henry's hand. "How many of those do you have leftover exactly?"

"Not many thank you very much!"

"And they came with the cot didn’t they?"

"Well, where else would they have come from?!"

"Your head maybe?"

"Hysterical. Why don't you come and inspect my handy work if you're that concerned?!" She stepped up to the cot and jiggled several of the bars.

"Mmm, not too far apart, that's good. At least they won't get stuck." He rolled his eyes. "Not sure those drawers are plumb though…"

"What do you mean?! They're dead straight!" But she was too busy testing out one of the dropsides. As soon as she lifted it, it whooshed back into place with a sickening clank.

"Jesus Christ, that could take someone's head off!"

"Well, I followed the pissing instructions! What more can I do?!"

"Build a bloody cot, not a guillotine!" Henry sighed and referred back to the booklet.

"Ah, I see. I haven't lined up these two casings correctly…"

"Well I hope that's the extent of the snags, I'm scared to touch the sodding thing now…" He pursed his lips and before she knew it, she was quickly whipped into the cot.

"There, see! Sound as anything! If it can take you it can take any baby—"

"Henry, will you get me out of here, please?! This whole thing's gunna collapse!"

"Oh shush and go to sleep, or do you need burping?"

"HENRY!!!"

"Alright, alright." He carefully lifted her out and she thwacked his arm the minute her feet hit the ground. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"You know what for, I can't get up as easily anymore!" She pointed at her bump.

"Oh please, you struggled to do that anyway," another thwack landed on Henry's arm.

"Just for that, you're not getting the snack I bought up here."

"What do you mean? What snack?" He sighed and picked up his screwdriver when she walked off. She returned moments later, however, holding a plate piled high with thickly cut sandwiches. Henry's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Other than terrorising your pregnant wife and building a death trap, you've done a wonderful job. I'm so proud of you darling and I can't thank you enough, the nursery looks amazing. I can't believe it's finished, are you excited? Before we know it we'll have a little one rolling around in there!" She pointed eagerly toward the tiny mattress.

"I know, the last few months really have flown by. It's going to be so weird having another person in the house!"

"You're telling me, you won't be the loudest, stinkiest one here anymore—" she stopped mid-sentence. "Wait a minute. Is it me, or is the whole thing on the conk?" He quickly stepped into her line of sight.

"Nah, that's just a trick of the light. Well, thanks for the sarnies, you best be getting on—"

"So it is bloody wonky?! I knew it! Did you not put the feet on?" She squatted low to examine the floor.

"Uh-uh, no you don't. Come on, get up please, you know I don't want you in that position—"

"Since when?" Henry rolled his eyes.

"Alright I confess, I haven't attached all the feet just yet as the whole thing was getting a bit heavy—"

"Well let me help--"

"No fucking fear!"

"Oh, Henry I'm not stupid!"

"Well, you could have fooled me! Remember that spice rack you tried to put up? Ten minutes afterward it crash-landed on the oven—"

"Yeah, cos you gave me shit screws - there and elsewhere!" His mouth fell open.

"Well I won't even dignify that with a response—"

"Yeah, cos you don't have one." Henry looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh.

"Darling, you can mouth off all you like, this is my job and I'm going to finish it. Now off you fuck."

"Well, what choice do I have…"

"Ollie, will you please just piss off?!"

"Fine! When you're done stuffing your face, come hop in the shower with me…"

"God bless those pregnancy hormones—"

"Oh please! You're just all sweaty, you'll stink up the bed later—"

"Sure. I'm thirsty as well, ya didn't by any chance happen to bring up a lager?" She smiled knowingly and handed him a tall tin can from the pocket of her jumper.

"Trust you to sniff that out. Oh and keep that Allen key handy as well, you can bleed all the radiators once you're finished."

"God, you'll work me to bloody death at this rate!"

"Henry, you've got off easy. You're not the one having to carry another person around, have them squish your organs, go into labour, give birth—"

"No, but I'm still having to hear all about it!" Her eyebrows hit the ceiling. "I'm kidding, if you're that helpless, go get all soaped up and I'll be in to scrub your back…" Henry spanked her backside once more and she walked off holding up her middle finger.

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