#its short enough to be super fucking inconvenient but not short enough to be like.. disabling or anything. just annoying

[aropride]

might work as a dishwasher if the position is still open in a couple days . which is funny because dishwashing is my least favourite chore by far and it makes me want to fucking Well i shant say . but its better than nothing at least i wouldnt be bored in my room alone. and id get free lunch. BUt i would have to email and say hi is this position suitable for someone whos like, near-comically short but not in a way protected by the ADA and such

[satoriberry]

"there's no ink." "yer kinda cute." - karasu tabito

★ resume: you need to make photocopies of a correction sheet for all 35 of your classmates. also, karasu can't use printers.

★ heads up: karasu is potentially ooc but imo he acts the way he does when it comes to football outside of bllk he's CRINGE BOOOOO, reader has hair that can be tucked behind her ear so it can be short or long yknow and uhhh nothing else ig, maybe just karasu being cringe but what's new. also reader is so fucking sick and tired of people in this so she's a bit rude but its justified :3

★ berry's note: oh wow im WRITING!! [😱😱] n e way, i hate this guy a lot and i cant imagine him excelling at using a printer by himself, so time to make a cutesy scenario out of it where he makes a fool of himself!!! enjoy!! :3

maybe it was because of the big, fat, red "57" that was surely an adequate and representative grade for your work - and not just your geography teacher being a bitch - but for some arbitrary reason, an itch developed in the back of your brain and made you feel a bit less tolerant of stupidity. at least until you get back home and sleep like a comatose patient.

you felt a slight comfort in knowing that even the self-proclaimed class genius got a gut-wrenching 60 on the same test, which isn't the nicest way of finding inner peace, but who cares? besides, geography is for losers who want to make statistics about the declining birth rate, and you couldn't care less about women giving birth to less and less children with each passing decade. strutting down the empty hallway, you gripped the sheet containing the answers to the questions with a bit too much intensity and aggression, slightly creasing it in your hand but you had bigger things to worry about. the printer room.

the godforsaken printer room - that served as the only motive to still keep hallway number 4 of the third floor accessible - possessed a myriad of faults and problems, the worst one being that they rarely kept the ink fresh; 'they' being the student body whose only involvement was that. keeping the ink fresh. they didn't even have to buy it, their only job was checking the printer's ink every 4 to 5 days and replace the cartridge if needed so. but, suprisingly (considering how competent they usually are), no one was bothered enough to accomplish this single task. nevertheless, it seemed that you weren't the student to first stumble upon this inconvenience today. the door to the printer room was slightly ajar and the lights were clearly on, so someone had to be in there.

taking the final steps, you lightly pushed the door all way to the end and gazed upon the wall where the (shitty) printers sat on an alignment of old desks. there was someone, you knew that already, but that someone seemed a bit familiar.

oh. it's that super soccer guy from bambi osaka. kawaru tamiko.

or at least you thought that was his name. you weren't good with names.

he was leaning forward against a table carrying an old canon®, tilting it forward with a grip on either side, and his hair flattened against the wall. almost like a person checking the label on the back of a cargo box that was too heavy to move. he was probably trying to look at the wires in the back, there was no other explanation for such an awkward posture.

it took him a few seconds to notice your presence, partly because he was so engrossed in the printer, and partly because you didn't care enough to say a word and instead opted for standing awkwardly with a hand on the doorframe. he turned his head towards you a first time and immediately went back to the printer before rapidly turning his head towards you again, this time fully absorbing your existence. kawaru abruptly let go of the table, producing a loud noise as it hit the wall, making you slightly wince at the idea of an even more damaged printer. you walked towards him.

running two fingers on the dust coating the surface of the printer, you lazily muttered, "it's not working, is it?", expecting nothing less from junk that was probably in use from before the fall of the soviet union. he had stood up straight and begun to awkwardly swing his arms back and forth, a clear attempt at de-stressing. "err, no, pretty sure there's a wirin' problem," he answered, though you were moreso talking to yourself than him, but that didn't matter.

"and uhh, this button right here hasn' stopped flashin' ever since i turned the thing on. prob'ly needs a technician," he continued, forcing a more assertive tone towards the end. you asked him to show you what button he was talking about, so he eagerly pointed at a flashing button located on the left side control panel of the printer. a button that had the image of an opaque drop on it. a button that had the faded word "ink" written underneath it.

the printer was working fine. it just needed ink.

and he thought it was broken.

you stood there in silence, physically and mentally unable to comprehend how someone can miss such an obvious clue. you didn't take your eyes off the flashing button, breathing quietly, trying your best to not lash out on kawaru. you noticed a frizzy lock of hair sticking out from your head and proceeded to tuck it behind your ear, then put your hand over your mouth in an attempt to hide your frustration, eyes still on the flashing button.

karasu, on the other hand, was waiting next to you, though his eyes were moreso fixated on you than the printer. did he know you? he didn't think so, but you seemed like someone he can find interest in, definitely the thinker kind since you appeared to be pondering a solution to this ordeal in a rather sophisticated manner. other questions flowed through his mind: what class were you in? were you a 3rd year? were you in the advanced course? did you have any mutual friends? did you do any extracurriculars? did you like soccer? have you ever been to one of his matches? he couldn't stop the flow of possiblities as to how to get to know you.

"there's no ink." "yer kinda cute."

you slowly turned your head to face him, body stiff and unmoving. he realized how outlandish the comment he just made was, and possibly inappropriate considering the circumstance.

"huh?" "what?"

you blinked at him with gradually developing bewilderment, fully certain that you heard what you heard but that didn't change the fact that you weren't awaiting that from him.

and sadly, you couldn't say that it displeased you. the opposite actually.

"i err, i...anyway, you said ink? there's a few cartridges in the desk's cubby. whaddya need? black? magenta? cyan? yellow?", he started to speak again at a fast pace, wanting to get done with this interaction and dwell in sorrow from his incapacity to talk to cute girls. "black's fine," you answered, looking away to make it less embarrassing from him. he dug in the cubby for a moment, hand banging the sides of the metal compartment before he got hold of a blocky object. he read the cartridge's sticker and made sure it was black ink before standing up again.

you expected him to press the button that dislodged the upper half of the machine and replace the cartridge, however, he stood quietly, fiddling with it while nervously looking at and away from you multiple times. oh. he doesn't know how to replace ink. exhaling through your nostrils, you stuck out your hand, wordlessly demanding him to hand it over - an order he prompty followed.

karasu felt you snatch the cartridge before he could even fully place it on your palm, making him feel even more guilty for wasting your time. he watched as you effortlessly pressed a series of buttons, took out things, replaced things and before he knew it, you snapped the top of the printer back on, which caused the flashing button to stop doing so. was he a loser or were you just a printer connoisseur? he didn't care enough to think of an answer though, he was once again focused on subtly seducing you and make you notice his more pleasant qualities.

you chose to ignore him for the rest of your stay in the printer room, procuring 35 copies of the sheet and preparing to leave when you felt a hand (his hand) lightly tap you on your back.

"yes?," you said, though you recognize you could have said it with a bit less bluntness in your voice. he took no notice of this however, and asked, "what's yer name? i think we've met before."

"(last name) (first name). no, we've never met, or at least i don't think we did," you replied before staring at him with more attention than before, noticing a few details about him that you missed. for example, the mole on his upper left cheek, or the weird angle at which his hair was styled. what kind of fucking product would you need for that?

"ah, hahaha, my bad, i was prob'ly thinkin' of someone else. umm, i...i meant what i said earlier," he mumbled his words more and more. you raised an eyebrow, not getting what he meant by 'what i said earlier', before remembering that he had called you cute. oh, right. that happened.

you involuntarily flashed a face of understanding, then lowered your head to bite your cheek. you didn't want to look like a loser while trying to hide your smile, a smile you rarely gave to guys with bad flirting skills, albeit this one was of the more good-looking variety so you can superficially excuse his lack of skills. "thanks, that was very sweet. i wasn't expecting it but it's still sweet. thank you."

"i can help ya' carry those papers to your classroom, that looks a bit heavy-"

"it's fine, really. but i do have a question. what's your name?"

his expression changed from nervous suaveness to a giddy grin, feeling honoured that you were interested in his name. "karasu tabito. i play for the local youth team, bambi osaka. you didn't ask fer that but, y'know...," ah. that was his name. karasu tabito. kawaru sounded a bit too childish for a guy like him.

"karasu tabito. yeah, i've seen you play. you're fun to watch." you tried to lighten the mood a bit cause the boy was seconds away from developing a rash if he kept scratching his neck like that.

"fun to watch? me? oh, thanks. i've been called a 'good player' and 'excellent' even, but 'fun', i've never gotten that before. w-whaddya mean by that though? what's fun, my playstyle or my presence or-,"

you couldn't afford wasting any more time than you already have, so cutting him off, you replied, "fun as in watching you in your element is rather entertaining, i don't do much sport outside of PE, but i can tell you love what you do. sorry, i have to leave, my teacher is gonna be up my ass about taking so much time."

karasu's lips formed a thin line, bitter about not making much of this exchange. and before he could even hold himself back, his mouth let out, "wanna watch my practice after school? you don't have to stay fer the whole thing, jus' to show you how i play outside of official matches."

"sure."

"what? hu-"

"i said, 'sure'. i'll watch you, i'll even stay for the whole practice, i've got nothing. catch you at the shoe lockers, bye."

and with that (plus a quick smile to soften the blow), you speedwalked out of the printer room and began to go down what felt like a dozen floors.

you didn't allow yourself to think about what happened up there, to avoid cringing at your bizarre attitude and not think about the fact that a (weird) guy you would consider somewhat out of your league, just asked you to watch him play.

bonus!!

lunch break finally rolled around, and your friends typically hung out in an obscure part of the courtyard to eat while hiding their cellphones from any faculty members. checking your messages, you noticed an instagram dm from someone whose username already crossed your mutual recommendations but you never took the time to open their profile.

kr_tabito23.

-> coach is sick but i still want an excuse to talk to you

-> there's this really rad crepe shop in namba parks

-> im paying :]

-> you can't say no

-> lol kidding

-> sorry that was weird

you giggled at whatever he was trying to achieve, he was definitely a dork. you didn't mind that.

-> sure. still gonna catch you at the shoe lockers c:

and somewhere in the school, on the opposite side of the main building, next to the fountain where he and his friends usurped the benches, karasu jumped from his seat and into the air, bumping his fist and yelling unintelligible words while his friends watched, confused but happy for their normally cool and collected fellow.

★ berry's post-writing note: guys im gonna be honest i hate the ending my inspiration juice ran out so i just came up with something but i feel like it could've been a bit better. still happy that i wrote something cause ive been in a long ass writer's block since?? what??? february? anyway, criticism is always accepted and uhh thank you for reading till the end!! <3

[thelikesoffinn]

Hi, i read your analyseses religiously and i love all of them and this question is probably dumb but you keep mentioning "survival mode" whenever astarion is mentioned. I don't really get what that is though, can you explain? Sorry if it's super dumb and it feels like i should understand but I really don't

Hello dearest!

Please don't worry, that question is not dumb at all - survival mode can be really hard to understand if you've never experienced it yourself and/or don't know your way around mental health, trauma, coping etc as such. So I'm super happy to explain, don't worry!

"Survival Mode" as such is more of a casual term for what is, essentially, chronic stress. As with anything "chronic" we're speaking of chronic stress when stress has been prolonged to such an extent, that a person finds themselves unable to relax.

Now, I know my hypochondriacs out there - I'm one of you, you can't fool me - who now grab at their chest and go "Omfg, I'm constantly stressed, I must have that!" So I'll add: Please don't worry. Even if you're stressed a lot, it doesn't necessarily mean you're dealing with chronic stress.

Everybody and their mothers prostitute has been stressed at one point in their life, and some people have been stressed more often than others - that's entirely normal and can even be slightly beneficial. Stress is meant to help and protect us - it makes us more aware of our surroundings, it makes us faster, and it makes us stronger for a short time by essentially burning more of our energy to help us push past our limits.

But normal stress will eventually subside once the thing that stresses you out - the stressor - is gone.

A tight deadline is stressing you out? You'll return to a calm state once it's met.

You're understaffed at work and there's a lot to do? The stress will likely already start to subside once you clock out.

If we take out the stressor, our body is supposed to return to its normal state.

People with chronic stress, so those who are constantly in survival mode, don't get those breaks in between. Their body is never returning to normal because being stressed IS their normal. Due to the extreme stress and duress they were under for a prolonged time, their body has now been taught that in order to be safe, in order to survive, they need to be hyperaware of everything at all times.

Ever been around someone who out of nowhere suddenly jumps up and goes: "My mum is coming home, she's in a bad mood, be quiet and don't say anything, okay?"

And the the door actually slams open and it actually is their mother and you're like: ??? How the fuck did you know??? And how can you tell she's in a bad mood, she looks normal?

One word: Steps.

It almost sounds like magic or a straight up lie, but that poor thing is probably in survival mode and her survival is linked to whether her mother is a) home and b) in a good mood, so she's learned to discern her mothers presence and mood solely by her steps while coming up the stairs.

People who are under chronic stress can often be described as hypervigilent but extremely forgetful at the same time. They are painfully aware of everything, but they can't focus long enough on most things to actually remember them, especially those that aren't deemed important to their survival. They also tend to be constantly tired, moody, indecisive, and quick to frustration and despair when faced by even a tiny inconvenience.

So, in the end, being in "survival mode" essentially just means that a person has been put under stress for so long, that they've forgotten how to rest and are now stuck in an endless cycle of high vigilance, low energy until they're taught how to rest once more.

Phew! I know those are a lot of facts and those can be hard to really understand, so let me know if you'd like me to be a bit more clearer or more visual in my explanation! I'm sure I can come up with something in that case ❤️

[cherry-velvet-skies]

It is time for the finale of the Beatles Era Ratings series ❤ This series was so fun I don't want it to end lol

Episode 4: Paul McCharmly 😁 And as of now all four parts are available in my Masterlist if you haven't seen the others 🥰

Archie Comics Character (Pre-Beatles Era)

Tell me he doesn't look like a 50s/60s cartoon character

Simultaneously looks 18 years old and 8 years old this kid's a fucking wizard

He has the vibe of those people who seem super cool but talk to them for too long and they get real annoying real fast

4/10 his only skill is his seemingly endless inventory of cheesy pickup lines

Petulant Schoolboy (1962)

Resting Pout Face ™️

There is a certain level of entitlement radiating from this image but we don't have time to unpack all of that

Looks the same as practically every other kid his age but still thinks he's the best looking one

5/10 is cute until he opens his mouth

Undercover Ken Doll (1963-66)

His appearance has not changed since the beginning of the Beatles

Looks identical to his Beatles cartoon counterpart and no I'm not wrong

This man is one minor inconvenience away from throwing a full-blown tantrum

6/10 though I'd be lying if I said I didn't find him the least bit adorable

Teen Caught With Fake ID (1967)

Never have I seen a real mustache look so fake in my entire life

When people who work at convenience stores tell stories of underage people who come in trying to buy alcohol, this is the people that come in

He's 25 and he looks 15 I hate it here

3/10 maybe next time don't let your LSD trip determine your facial hair pattern

Understandably Conceited (1968)

Very similar to Undercover Ken Doll but there is something different here. Something...better

Beautiful and he knows it

His eyelashes are longer than mine what the hell am I doing wrong

9/10 he's a 9 but he gatekeeps his skincare routine

McBeardy (1969-70)

Jesus Christ do I even need to say anything

The only other exception to my "I hate beards" rule

The mustache cannot stand on its own it must be accompanied by the beard

1000/10 I want him to fuck me just so I could forget about my problems for a while

No (1971)

How did we go from McBeardy to t h i s

You really thought that having beard hair longer than the hair on your head was a good idea? I think the fuck not, James.

Every time I think about Paul's style evolution I desperately try to delete this one from my memory

0/10 I actively despise this

Hot Dad at a Pool Party (1972)

Well at least the beard is gone

The title is exactly what I mean. I have no other way of describing this look

His hair is a little shorter than I feel is the ideal length for him but it's not bad

7.5/10 it's enough to make me have a crush on him, but it would be nothing more than that

Baby's First Mullet (1973)

Looks cute but also concerningly sexy

I hate that I like this but then again rockstar mullets are different than regular mullets so I have nothing to be embarrassed about

His eyes are so big how does he do that

9.5/10 if I saw him at a club I would definitely wanna sleep with him

The Eighth Circle of Hell (1974)

And we're back here again I am in AGONY

The trainwreck of a mustache ON TOP OF THE MULLET? I am at my fucking limit.

This is the face of a man who has done his fair share of cocaine

12598347/10 I had it at a 2.5/10 at first and the only reason I changed it is because there is some sick twisted part of me that's attracted to this and maybe that's why I'm so angry about it. I thought about my rating overnight and ended up having a dream that we fucked and he looked like this and it was so hot. My affinity for skrunkly men is one that both comforts and deeply disturbs me.

Mullet Yoyo (1975-78)

No matter how long or short the mullet got it never left

At least the mustache is gone I can't take having to face my most embarrassing turn-ons anymore

To be honest he somehow looks more unhinged with just the mullet

7.5/10 my brain doesn't like it as much without the facial hair oh my god Cherry what the FUCK is wrong with you

Intermission (1979-80)

It's not that I don't like this. I just really have nothing much to say about it

Sort of a middle ground in between the chaotic energy from the 70s and the dilf energy of the 80s

He looks handsome I'll give him that

7/10 I certainly have nothing to complain about

Give My Regards to Dilf Street (1981-85)

Oh shit here we go

His hair got longer and none of us knew how to act

When I say I watch the Broad Street movie for the plot, this is the plot

3000/10 this man is a frequent visitor of my sexual fantasies

Warden at Horny Jail (1986)

I'm- 🥴

Nobody talk to me

This is the epitome of dilf energy it's not even a competition

36459871/10 please just fuck me already

Questionable Choices (1987-88)

He cut his hair I am in shambles

Paul why

He doesn't look bad but obviously the long hair is way better

5/10 I don't hate it but my heart belongs to another

The Swan is Gliding (1989-97)

The dilf haircut is back thank god

Paul you have redeemed yourself

He looks unbelievably sexy but for some reason it's missing something that he had in '86 and I don't know what it is- oH MY GOD HE DYED HIS HAIR THAT'S WHAT IT IS

1000000/10 it's still one of my faves but COME ON PAUL YOU'RE A DILF FOR GOD'S SAKE YOU NEED TO EMBRACE YOUR GRAY HAIR YOU'RE A SILVER FOX BABE PLEASE

Time Traveler (1998-2003)

He started looking real old real quick

But of course I will not be harsh with this era because I know it was a super tough one for him

I know all too well that when you're super stressed out, your appearance is the furthest thing from your mind

5/10 honestly he just looks like a typical guy in his sixties so there's nothing to bash anyway 😊❤

Lead Role in a CBS Crime Drama (2004-10)

This pic just gives me NCIS/Criminal Minds cast photo vibes idk

Again I mean this in the best way possible but he looks like just some guy and there's nothing wrong with that

A suit will always be sexy to me though

8/10 I have a certain appreciation for this one

Main Character Energy (2011-16)

This era of Paul was the moment

His hair is longer again and yes I do think he looks very sexy

A majority of the music he released in this era is just *chef's kiss*

10/10 this photo is from the promo for the NEW album which fucking slaps btw it's honestly one of my favorite albums from his solo career

Hey Grandude (2017-19)

I'm sorry I just had to name it that I think him using it for a children's book title is too cute

The gray hair is coming back and I very much do think it suits him

This is not so much "just some guy" but more like "a guy who aged beautifully"

9/10 if you told me he was approaching 80 years old I would not believe you

Eternal Rockstar (2020-Present Day)

Oh my god shUT UP

I have to say dilf. Do I have to say dilf? I feel like I have to say dilf

Don't dye your hair anymore babe you don't need it

10000/10 I had to choose this photo it taunts me too much 🥵

[doubleddenden]

i have watched so many movies lately that i cannot really hope to begin a full review for them for the two people that bother reading them

so instead here's a bunch of short ones. Personal opinions, don't @ me. this is not meant to be taken too seriously. i just like to record my thoughts for later viewing down the road and maybe give a little nudge for friends to watch something i'm watching.

Belle (anime movie):

Beautiful in concept, a little shaky in execution, the ending felt a little too open, but it does give a decent amount of food for thought towards the perception of others, ourselves, internet culture, and society at large. This is also sort of the third in the unofficial trilogy of Mamoru Hasoda reinventing the internet, with the first two being the Digimon Movie (specifically Our War Game) and Summer Wars. 10/10 singing though and 10/10 art direction, 7/10 plot though. Verdict: Watch it, but don't expect to be completely satisfied, and try not to fall too deep into tropes. Do be careful with it as it does have somewhat triggering bits for certain people.

Lupin III the First the Movie:

I was afraid the 3d would ruin it, but it's actually very fun, super stylistic, and I think a fun homage to both Lupin III and Indiana Jones movies and the like. The hyper realistic backgrounds and semi hyper realistic but still cartoonish characters actually work really well, and the action- dare I say- is actually better than the anime. Its not entirely perfect, but its fun enough. I think the only thing it suffers from is that plot sort of happens in convenience to the characters- typical Lupin style though. Still fun, and I actually think it's better than a lot of the Lupin content I've seen in a long wile. 8/10, Jigen is hot in this one wtf

Dragon Ball Super Super Hero:

The movie itself is kinda eh and the 3d looks like a cheaper ArcSys cutscene, but there is heart and fun moments in the movie. Just don't go in expecting 10/10 story telling because the plot is an easy 6. The fights are pretty neat though, the new stuff is cool, and timeline placement is unique for the series. Anything more would spoil things, but its actually pretty funny in unexpected ways. 7/10 Piccolo is the best Uncle Dadpa

One Piece Film Z:

Really fun, and the writing and character design is very consistent with the series as I've been watching so far (i'm keeping up with the Toonami broadcast). Fight scenes are great, art is great, and the rest is about what you expect from One Piece- the added benefit is that the arc is condensed into a movie and doesn't take 5 years to finish. 8/10, Robin rocks hot pants.

One Piece Strong World:

Somehow this movie has even BETTER art direction and world building than Z, and the fight scenes are gorgeous. The plot is kinda eh but I was too distracted by cool monsters and explosions. It's got the art direction of an actual One Piece arc characterwise but the plot of a decent filler arc in a generic anime. I think it might have been better as a game tbh. 8/10 Nami rocks the booty shorts

Blue Exorcist The Movie:

I never really got far in the anime because I couldn't really stand the glasses brother and his buzz kill kind of holier than thou personality, but the world design is still fucking gorgeous, and the movie character Usamaro is adorable. It lacks traditional shounen fight scenes for the most part but makes up for it with chaotic fights against gigantic demons and some pleasant fun bonding time with a little demon boy. What I hate is that the higher ups frame all the good that's done as bad because it inconveniences them in the slightest despite the people Ren and his friend with thick thighs help by just doing the right thing. But the city looks cozy, the food delicious, and the friends kinda wholesome. 7/10, not bad, kinda wanna watch the anime, I just want Usamaro to be happy

I do recommend each of these just for fun. Obviously I'm missing context for some of the anime movies but I'm just here to be entertained, not think too hard

if you have movies you think i'd like, gimme suggestions. I'd prefer something anime based and I'm not really looking for anything too gorey, scary, or the like. I like comedies, shounen type stuff, action, adventure, that kind of stuff.

and again, this is just for fun

[watchmegetobsessed]

PAPER-THIN WALLS

a/n: i woke up totally in themood to write just straight up smut... and that's what i did lmao. there's not much plot in it, just a whole lot of fucking, so enjoy!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, oral, the good stuff

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

The Avengers compound was built almost perfectly with its luxurious suits, several entertainment rooms, fully equipped training areas and millions of hidden snack and drink bars all across the building. But the stress this time is on almost.

Bucky was never sure if the walls were originally built to keep less noise than in any other buildings, or if it was just his super hearing that allowed him to catch conversations and noises that weren’t meant for his ears. He would often hear gossiping agents as he walked down the hallways, or Vision and Wanda talk about recipes and TV shows in her room and there was this one time he heard Nat and Bruce have a discussion that was surely not meant to be heard by anyone but the two of them. He is still trying to get rid of the words he heard.

Having a room next to yours, he often sat on his bed, hearing you shuffling around, humming to yourself. As the latest addition to the Avengers, you felt a little out of place at the compound, like you were a stranger to the team even though they never gave you a reason to think so. This feeling of not belonging is what brought you closer to the century old super soldier on the other side of the wall, who despite being free from the claws of Hydra finally, still felt like an outsider in the superhero filled complex. Bucky always thought he was hard to make friends with, but he had to realize that it was all about who he was trying to make friends with. Because with you, it was an instant, like he had known you his whole life, you’ve definitely become one of the closest people to his heart in a very short time.

With this friendship came some undeniable feelings and tension from Bucky’s part. He couldn’t help but fall for you, how couldn’t he? He would have been surprised if it didn’t happen, after spending so much time with you. He found himself craving your presence, to be with you, talk to you and listen to you at the same time. He was a sucker for your lame jokes that he would laugh at even if they weren’t that funny. He loved your enthusiasm whenever you brought a new book and basically told him the whole plot, spoiling the story, but he never minded, because the way you rambled in excitement made up for everything.

And of course, he has been attracted to you since day one. Even when you weren’t that close, he couldn’t deny how much it affected him when he saw you spar with Steve at the gym in just some tight shorts and a sports bra, or when you linger around in the kitchen early in the morning wearing only an oversized shirt and your underwear hidden under the long fabric. It stirred his fantasies that’ve been sleeping for decades and late at night, when he was lying in his bed restless, his vibranium hand firmly curling around his erection, he thought about you. How you’d taste and feel, what it would be like to have your body pressed against his, his name falling from your lips in a whimper as he pleases you all over and over again. Sometimes he felt dirty after an elaborate fantasy, barely able to look into your eyes, but he just couldn’t help it. You had him in the palm of your hand.

What he doesn’t know is that he is not the only one with fantasies and desires. Because on the other side of the wall, you’ve often found yourself craving the mixture of warm and cold touch from flesh and metal hands, toned muscles flexing under your palms, pink lips whispering into your ears as you arch against his body… Bucky has been living in your mind rent free and you’ve been having a hard time containing your desire for the super soldier.

Having sex dreams is not at all a new thing for you. It happens every once in a while, waking from a heated scene only to find yourself alone in the comfort of your room, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin as you try to bring yourself back to reality. It was never an inconvenience, but in the past few days it’s been getting worse. You’ve had a wet dream for three days in a row, jolting awake right when you were about to climax, a wave of disappointment washing over your body as you fisted the sheets in your sweaty palms. And the worst part? All of them have been about Bucky.

It’s another sleepless night for Bucky, nothing new. He has tried to chase himself into sleep with everything already, TV, ready, music, even counting sheep, but nothing seems to be working, so he is left with lying in his bed, staring at the blank ceiling, the soft bed sheet throw across his naked upper body, only wearing a pair of boxer briefs, because it’s been hot these past week, but he is not a fan of using the air-condition. The dogtags are lying messily on his naked chest, his vibranium finger playing with the wrinkles of the sheets mindlessly.

His eyes slowly flutter closed, a promise of some rest finally nearing the corner, but right just then, he hears some muffled noise coming from the other side of the wall. His eyes snap open as he sits up, trying to make out what it is, but he catches no words, just… grunts and some shallow panting, as if someone was struggling.

What if you’re sick and something is wrong? You’ve been a little worn off the past days, maybe something was lingering in you.

Kicking the sheets off of himself, he pads his way to the door, his bare feet tapping on the hardwood floor as he walks out of his room, heading to yours, stopping at the door. Pressing his flesh hand to the door he takes a moment to listen to the voices so he can make out what’s happening, but it really feels like you’re in a struggle, but he has no idea why. Knocking lightly on the door he hopes to get an answer, but nothing of sort comes and he stays still, debating whether he should go in or just leave. Right when he is about to retreat he hears you gasping, as if you’re at a short of breath and it pushes him to check in on you.

Opening the door he pops his head inside, the darkness fully taking up the room, your king sized bed in the middle, a few strikes of moonlight sneaking through the curtains that are not entirely drawn.

“Y/N?” he calls out softly, not wanting to startle you, but no answer comes once again, however he can see your figure tossing and turning under the sheets, another gasp slipping through your lips.

He walks closer, stopping at your bedside, seeing how your eyebrows are pulled together tensely, chest heaving as you keep moving around. Bucky feels like an intruder, you’re definitely asleep, probably having a nightmare, but he is not sure if he should be in here. Should he wake you? Or just leave? Would you be mad if you found him here upon waking up? After some hesitation he decides it’s better if he leaves, but right as he turns around, taking just one step towards the door, he finally hears a word from you.

“Bucky,” you whine, his name coming out a little slurred, but still clear to him. “Bucky, please!” you continue, his eyes widening as his head snaps around, eyes returning to you. You’re still asleep, but he notices your hand moving down your chest and then disappearing under the sheets, between your legs. That’s when he realizes that it’s not a nightmare. You’re having a sex dream about him.

Clearly trying to chase your release, your lips part as you moan, the voice instantly making Bucky’s cock twitch while hardening. His hands curl into fists as he is fighting himself whether he should do something or leave, but when his name slips through your lips again, he goes feral. He would be damned if he lets you get stuck in your dream when he can please you in real life.

He finds himself striding back to your bed faster like ever, like an elegant lion, hungry for his prey as one of his knees sink into the mattress between your open legs, keeping his weight up on one arm while the other finds your waist. The shirt you always sleep in has ridden up to just below your breasts, the exposed skin watering Bucky’s mouth as he squeezes your waist gently but firmly enough to wake you from your fever dream.

Your eyes snap open and you stare up at him slack-mouthed, your brain barely able to process the sudden change between the Bucky in your dream and the one holding himself up above you in real life.

“Bucky? I—“ you breathe out, the cloud of confusion on your head making it hard to even form a sentence. He leans down, his face just inches away from yours and even though it’s quite dark, his blue eyes are basically piercing. His dogtags fall to your chest, right above your wildly racing heart and you wonder if he can hear the pounding in your ribcage.

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispers and without a warning, his lips crash down onto yours.

It’s so hard and passionate, filled with hunger and longing, the air gets knocked right out of your chest as you eagerly kiss him back while he slowly moves himself until he is fully between your legs, his hips coming down to meet yours and you moan when you feel his erection pressing against your already soaking wet core. Your hands find their way up into his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and he can’t stop himself from growling at your action, grinding himself against your hips, both of you desperate to take it further.

Pushing himself up into a kneeling position, he grabs your panties and tugs them down your bare legs, throwing them across the room before he rids you from your shirt as well, so now you’re lying completely naked in front of his lustful eyes. He could devour you with just his icy blue eyes, he looks glorious, towering above you with his broad, muscular shoulders and toned chest, you’ve never been more desperate for a man before.

Your desire takes action, pushing yourself up your lips meet his chest, kissing the hot skin, your tongue sloppily pressing against him as you make your way up on his body. His vibranium fingers tangle into your hair as he holds the back of your head, pulling you up to kiss you again, both of you in a kneeling position while your hand reaches into his underwear, palming his hard cock, feeling up his size before you push the fabric down and he kicks it off easily, his erection now pressed between the two of you teasing and tempting you, making you buck your hips forward just for the slightest friction.

“Were you dreaming of me, doll? Huh?” he questions, his lips nibbling on your lower lip as he takes it between his teeth and gently tugs on it.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, hands grabbing onto his hips before they move down to his bare ass, pulling him closer to you, earning a moan from him.

“And what was I doing in your dream?” He kisses down your neck, stopping at a soft spot before he starts sucking and biting on it, marking you as his, something he’s been aching to do since the moment he laid eyes on you for the first time. Your brain almost shuts down, one of his hands is on your jaw, keeping your head in place, while the other one is gripping your waist harshly, his fingers digging into your muscles. You fail to answer his question as just a whimper leaves your lips at the sensation.

“Words, sweetheart. Use your words for me, will you?”

“I, uhh—You used your f-fingers,” you croak out, a satisfied grin tugging on Bucky’s lips at your words.

He pushes you back on the bed, making you lie on your back as he gets on top of you once again, but this time he doesn’t stay like that long, after a hard kiss he climbs down until his face aligns with your core, his hands parting your legs widely, baring you to him fully.

“Tell me, where did I use my fingers?” he hums, face so close to your center that you can feel his hot breath on you. He teases you, running his hands up and down your spread thighs, his fingers just grazing your folds before moving away every time.

“Bucky, please!” you cry out, grinding your hips up, but you only reach his chin before he leans back with a pleased grin on his face.

“Just tell me and I’ll do it. Where did I use my fingers?” he repeats.

“On my pussy! You fingered me!” you groan, your cheeks heating up from the blunt comment you just made, but it’s exactly what Bucky wanted to hear.

Two of his fingers find your clit easily, starting off with slowly drawing circles on it, stimulating your nerves and it’s nothing like in your dream. You curse under your breath when his fingers move to your hole and he pushes both of them inside, his lips taking their place on your clit.

“Oh fuck!” you groan in pleasure, your hands immediately snapping to his head, fingers lacing into his chocolate locks as you shamelessly grind against his face.

Bucky is not a man of many words, but god damn, he can use his mouth like a fucking master. It feels like your whole body is on fire, you’re sweating and shaking, his fingers curl inside you every time he thrusts into you and he is stroking that one heavenly spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head. His tongue is slick and sloppy against your wet pussy, but he is drinking it all up as if you were his last meal before death.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum! Bucky!” you gasp as your back arches at the sensation, your orgasm building up rapidly.

“Cum on my tongue and fingers, let me make your dream come true,” he growls against your heat, picking up the pace of his fingers which completely throws you over the edge.

You come with chanting his name over and over again as you ride your high, thighs shaking and tightening on either side of his head until you’re finally able to catch your breath.

Bucky pushes himself up, his lips glistening from your juices and you watch him wipe his mouth with his fingers, licking them afterwards like he just finished eating a chocolate cake, a satisfied grin on his ridiculously handsome face. He crawls up on you until his lips can finally reach yours again, kissing you in a slower pace, but still with a lot of passion to offer.

“Tonight wasn’t my first sex dream about you,” you slyly admit, lips brushing against his as you speak.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm, so there’s more to act out.” His still hard cock twitches again and you’re fast to reach down and palm him again, wrapping a hand around him as you give his cock a few lazy stokes, but it surely has an effect on him.

You’re quick to turn him over, pushing him to lie on his back as you straddle him, steading yourself with holding onto his waist, his eyes bore into yours intently and your mouth hangs open when you grind against him, his hard cock sliding between your wet folds.

“The other day, I dreamed about riding you, your cock filled me up so good, but right when I was about to cum I woke up,” you tell him, not sure how this sudden confidence came from, but you just can’t help yourself. Bucky growls at your words as his fingers dig into your thighs.

“Then let’s make up for that, love,” he breathes out and you nod eagerly, lifting yourself up just enough to position him to your hole and then you sink down as far as you can, his dick filling you up inch by inch and your breath hitches when you finally settle, his length fully buried inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” you whine before you start moving yourself up and down his cock, grinding back and forth, the feeling of him inside you so intoxicating, you think for a moment that this might still be your dream. If it is, you hope you don’t wake up this time.

Though your training has strengthened your legs so you are able to ride him in this position longer, it still tires you out. Bucky notices when your movements slow down, his hands running up your torso, kneading your breasts before they end up on the back of your neck, pulling you down so you lie on top of him, his strong arms wrapping around you. His lips kiss the side of your head before he starts thrusting up into you, doing the work for you this time. You can’t stop yourself from moaning and whimpering as your second orgasm is starting to build up, your senses are on the edge.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close,” he gasps, his thrusts becoming a little uncoordinated and you feel the same way, only moments away from your climax.

You push yourself up, pulling him with you, wanting to take back control before you both reach your relief, you get into a sitting position that allows you to grind in his lap, moving your hips back and forth as fast as you can. Bucky’s lips find yours again, kissing your sloppily before they travel down your neck and he licks at your collarbone as you hold onto his broad shoulders.

“You feel so fucking good, oh God!” he whines, his head falling backwards as you keep moving, both of you sweating, but neither of you really cares, you’re just relentlessly chasing your high again.

“I want to feel you cum. Please, Bucky!” you beg him, squeezing your walls around him, the action completely maddening the man as he holds you to his chest and flips you over with ease, his body weighing down on you as he starts fucking into you fast and hard. You could throw a fuss about how he took control again, but you don’t mind it, not at all. Because the way he pounds into you, his cock disappearing to the last inch inside you with each thrust, your whole body starts shaking as your orgasm finally reaches you.

Your squeeze your walls again around him and the moment he hears his name fall from your trembling lips he cums inside of you, filling you up entirely, marking you with his pleasure.

He rides his high with a few more sloppy thrusts until he stops, his forehead falling against yours as you both try to catch your breath. He captures your lips in a soft and slow kiss, so different from the ones you shared before. Then he finally rolls off of you and you let out a displeased grunt when you feel him slide out of you.

For a while it’s just the silence in the room mixed with your soft panting, but he is the first one to break it as his head rolls to the side, looking at you with those fucked-out eyes of his.

“How long have you been having these dreams?” he asks, turning to his side so his hand can spread out on your naked stomach, fingers drawing tiny circles on your sweaty skin.

“A while,” you admit.

“I wish I heard you earlier through the wall,” he chuckles, but your eyes widen.

“Wait, what? You heard me through the wall?”

“Yeah. Thought something was wrong so I came over to check on you.”

“God, I must have been really loud,” you laugh, covering your face with your hands, but he is quick to peel them off and leaning closer he kisses your lips gently.

“Don’t blame yourself, these walls are like paper. And besides…” A sly smirk tugs on his lips as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb running along the line of your bottom lip. “I fucking love it when you’re loud.”

“I wasn’t even screaming yet,” you tease back, your comment definitely catching him off-guard, but he likes it.

“We’ll get there next time.”

You and Bucky walk into the kitchen in the morning, completely oblivious to the rest of the world, still in the bliss of last night. Nat, Tony and Steve are sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on their morning coffee when you emerge from your room, all eyes immediately glued to the pair of you.

“Well, good morning, everyone,” you chuckle a little nervously, not sure what the stares mean.

“Morning,” Nat smirks, shaking her head before she turns back to the newspaper unfolded in front of her.

“Nice of you to make an appearance, I have some news to share with you all,” Tony announces as you pour some coffee for yourself while Bucky grabs everything he needs to make breakfast for the two of you. Nodding you signal to Tony that you’re listening. “I decided to do some remodeling on the compound.”

“Oh, what are you getting done?” you ask, wondering what could possibly need work on the building.

“Nothing major, I’m just gonna make the walls soundproof, so we don’t have to listen to you guys fucking all night long.”

You almost choke on your coffee at Tony’s blunt comment, cheeks heating up right away, you were not expecting that. Though he is looking at you and Bucky, who is now standing behind you with a hand on your waist, with a stern expression, you can see the small smile hiding in his eyes. He finds the situation rather amusing instead of annoying.

“Yeah, next time maybe keep it down a little,” Steve suggests as he stands from his seat, grabbing his mug. Walking past the two of you, he pats Bucky’s shoulder however. “But I’m glad you guys are finally getting it on,” he comments before walking out, Nat and Tony following him right after, leaving just you and Bucky in the kitchen.

You glance up at him with concern in your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, but he doesn’t seem to be ashamed at all. Instead, he leans down, pecks your lips shortly and then whispers:

“I told you. Paper-thin walls.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[star-anise]

I'm rereading the first Heralds of Valdemar book so I can write a longer essay about how it shows a 1980s understanding of psychological trauma. But I also have like... little nitpicks. Little things that I think would improve the books a bunch.

Like, make the Holderkin Karsite-speaking Vkandis-worshippers. Make them like... the Protestants of Vkandis's religion.

We already know they're religious dissidents who got the fuck outta Karse a couple generations back, and we know Talia "can't talk right" when she gets to Haven. We also know that the super-insular Karsite state cult of Vkandis later gets reformed/brought more into line with its God's intentions, and when they form a military alliance with Valdemar, Talia becomes a Sun-Priestess

So I say, let's connect the dots and say: Sources of resistance to Karsite Vkandis worship include Karsite diaspora groups in Valdemar, Hardorn, and Rethwellan, which may still be puritanical and xenophobic towards their new neighbours, but they are less puritanical and xenophobic than the groups still left in Karse, and they're quite eager to fight against Karse, even if it's not precisely for their new homes. That kind of factionalism is why we get tiny little splinter-states like Menmellith.

So okay, Talia's kind older brother Andrean, when he taught her to read, also taught her Valdemaran so she could read books in that language too. That's part of why she gets away with reading subversive literature and learning Valdemaran ideals--none of the other women in Sensholding speak or read Valdemaran. But her vocabulary is better than her pronounciation, and adjusting to full Valdemaran immersion in the Collegium is still really hard.

This really affects her relationship with Alberich, because now they both speak Valdemaran as a second language; their first languages are mutually intelligible. He probably also understands her body language and conditioned responses a whole lot better.

This also means that the random throwaway mention of a short story tucked into a side-anthology about Talia becoming a priestess of the Sun Lord and aiding the reform of the faith actually becomes really resonant. It's not enough to undo her horrible childhood, it doesn't even make her family un-disown her. But it recontextualizes her origins. It turns this part of her that was surely painful and inconvenient (because you know her political detractors would emphasize her soft Karsite accent) into a source of strength. It's the literal god of her forefathers saying, "Hey. What happened to you was fucked up. They were wrong. You get to be in power now and change the lives of children in the future."

It's a bookend to how she fled her home on Companionback as a child because she saw a religious life in the Lady's halls as more oppressive than every other option; she's riding on a Companion through those hills again, but this time it's for a holy purpose that's going to liberate and save.

[spookysmujer]

All the Stars, O. Diaz

Summary: After having a stressful week dealing with the Santos, you try to make Oscar feel relaxed enough to get him to open up.

word count: 1.3K

warnings: cute s h e t, fluff, vulnerability

a/n: Hello babes, I am putting in some weRk over these next few days! Also who has been super excited after hearing it’s official: ON MY BLOCK SEASON 4 IS HAPPENING. Our papichulo returns! Don’t worry, angst coming up next, some smut and the whole spiel, hehe. As always please: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog my work and turn on notifications for when I post new content! 

requested by @justatiredfool

(gif belongs to unknown 🥺)

You were told you were silly to move in with Oscar during senior year of high school. That you had to be knocked up. Even though your parents gave you the OK, they always made it their mission to remind you that there are more important things in life than having a boyfriend. But no one understood just how deeply you connected with him. And to those who claimed it wouldn’t last, here you are 5 years later.

And with living at the Santo trap house came with its occasional inconveniences. Such as Oscar having the stress of ‘work’ follow him home all the time. And mostly, there was no problem in solving them. He did his best to separate business and pleasure. But there were days where he couldn’t and it would take a toll on your relationship. Days like today, so you want to help him relax and relinquish any stress.

When he gets home, he stops in the kitchen to press a kiss to the top of your head. He goes to the bedroom and strips down to his white tank and basketball shorts. You take the liberty to get him a beer, he thanks you with a touch when you hand it to him, “Long day?”

He hums in response as you run your hand over his head, he loves the feeling of you touching him. Touch for him is his love language rather than speaking. Which no doubt was hard for you in the beginning considering that for you, you were heavy in verbal communication. You need lots of reassurance and it was a big adjustment to learn that he likes to reassure you in a different way. 

After mindlessly thinking, you reach over and take the remote to turn off the tv. He scrunches his eyebrows together and looks at you, “Com’n, let’s go.”

“Go where? I just got home, com’n.” You gather your purse and go stand by the doorway, looking back at Oscar who is still laying back on the bed. He looks at you, trying to tell you I ain’t going nowhere with his eyes. But your eyes tend to be more deadly than his. He groans before getting up and grabbing his wallet, “You don’t need it, let’s go tortuga.” 

He pinches your behind as he approaches you, you squeal a little as you get away. Though he didn’t want to, Oscar knows there are days where you don’t see him much except for when he climbs into bed next to you. So instead of complaining, he just follows in pursuit. 

You snatch the keys from his hand and jump into the driver’s seat. He won’t admit it but he loves to see you drive his car, it wasn’t always that way but to see you leant back, wind in your hair and head bopping to music, it’s a sight for sore eyes. Oscar keeps quiet as co-pilot and lets you take him to wherever you have planned.

Oscar doesn’t think anything when you pull up at a taco truck, you tell him to wait in the car that you phone ordered food for the two of you. When you get back to the car, he half expects for the two of you to eat in the car. However, you place the bag of food in the back seat and take off again. You drive for a bit more, taking a turn pass the sign that says “Hollywood Sign Ahead”. Most tourists have a designated area to part and hike near it. You know a way to drive up to it. Call it your rebel memory of high school. “Where are you taking me, hm?”

You look over at Oscar and smile, continuing the drive in silence. Oscar quirks his eyebrows when pulled up near a cliffside. He looks to you then tries to look over the ledge, “Com’n.” And when you walk over to his side to pull him closer to the edge, he feels a certain weight leave his shoulders. The sight is literally breathtaking. Los Angeles in a whole view makes everything that has been happening seem so miniscule. He lefts out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“That’s why I brought you here. That release of breath you just let out that you have been holding in for God knows how long. Up here it’s different from the beach, down there you can release it but still gotta be cautious. Here, there is literally no one to see you be… you.” He keeps looking at the bustling city below. A small smile forms on his lips before looking at you. His hand cups your cheek, thumb gently gliding across the warm skin. You melt into his touch and smile.

So you both get comfy of the hood of his car and get to grubbing on the tacos. It’s nothing but silence as you eat first. You want Oscar to feel comfortable in this safe space. You have learned that the best way some people release all the pent up frustration is in silence while in the presence of others. It seemed out to you when you learnt this but sometimes it’s just another's presence that can be a tremendous help.

He finishes first and you offer your other taco, he denies it and chugs the rest of his drink. “Cuchillos put me second in command. Lots of new territories to cover. More business to handle and it’s been a fucking rough trip so far. Turning against long time allies. Taking fathers from little ones. I knew what I was getting when taking on the job but…” He shrugs, clearing his throat. 

You watch him closely and quietly sighed. Not pushing him to talk more, you wait it out patiently. “I just need to know you can stick it out with me during times like this.” He says and you stop chewing your food, taken back a bit.

Oscar finally looks at you and you swallow. You set your food down to slide off the hood to stand in front of him. He watches as you step between his legs, he looks at your lips as you rest your hand on his thighs. “Remember when we had that pregnancy scare half way into senior year? Or when Cesar ran off from us at the fair? We didn’t know what to expect to have next then, just like you don’t know right now. But we always did something that no matter the outcome we knew we’d be okay, we always stuck together and did our best. I am here. I am not going anywhere, I won’t run when the going gets rough. When every single day life tries to throw us a curveball, I’m gonna be right next to you. I promise you that.”

Those special moments in life that automatically engrain themselves into your brain, the times where it becomes such a significant moment that you can later anchor yourself to. And right now is one of those moments. Oscar knew from the get go that you would remain a faithful companion in his life the moment you took a leap and moved in with him. Unknown where the future could lead the two of you. Here you are in the moment that you never saw coming all those years ago.

“Thank you.” He grabs your hand and presses a kiss on the back of it. You blush as he pulls your arm around him to get a hug. Oscar inhales your scent which has always consisted of vanilla and brown sugar. The feeling of your embrace keeps him at bay with the uncontrolled thoughts. The two of you share a few kisses, “Despite all this shit, it’s not a bad thought you know.” He tells you and you look at him quizzically. 

He chuckles, “A baby, you pregnant. Doesn’t sound bad at all.”

The warmth in your cheeks makes you look away shyly. But the condensation that spread across the windows later showed no signs of shyness. 

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[mellowswriting]

ambrosia

pairing || Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

summary || You’ve been having a hard week. There’s nothing Steve loves more than taking care of his girl. 

word count || 2,318

warnings || oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, soft!dom Stevie, slight degradation but like... sweetly? idk, unprotected sex, slightest breeding kink if ya squint, slight cockwarming

a/n || Hello yes it is I, the local harlot here to bless you with some smut and feel goods in a totally not self indulgent fic bc I was having a hard week.

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

It had been nearly an entire week since you had seen Steve.

Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem. Hell, there had been times where you didn’t see him for months when things got tricky on his missions. It was more the fact that in the time he had been gone, you had barely slept more than a handful of hours a night if you were lucky and the one thing that was like magic for your insomniac brain was Steve’s embrace. It all started when you accidentally stayed awake into the hours of the early morning. The muse had struck and given you the blessing of inspiration that quickly became a curse of not being unable to set aside your work until it felt just right. That wasn’t until three in the morning, of course. Then you napped the next day from the lingering sleepiness, effectively throwing your sleep schedule entirely out of whack.

Little things that usually would be a minor annoyance at best left you viscerally frustrated, each inconvenience building one upon another until you were left too overwhelmed to complete even the simplest of tasks. You managed to trudge your way through your other responsibilities, leaving you with only laundry and tidying the kitchen to concern yourself with but the pile of clean laundry that sat in front of you waiting to be folded felt impossible. Instead of feeling proud of how much you had already accomplished, you were angry with yourself for not getting more done. Tears of frustration pricked your eyes, which only made you feel even more ridiculous.

The sound of the front door opening and closing broke you out of your annoyed trance of glaring at the laundry basket and you quickly wiped the tears away when you heard a familiar voice calling from the entryway, “I’m home!”

“Hey,” You said, your voice cracking slightly as you greeted Steve as he paused to lean over the couch and kiss the top of your head.

“Are you okay?” Concern tinged his voice, his eyebrows furrowed on that pretty face of his as he studied your current state. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find a way to say it without sounding pathetic but you couldn’t. Shoulders slumped, you leaned back into the cushions with a long sigh. “Oh, honey. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I haven’t slept right in days.” You looked up at him with a pitiful look. “I haven’t slept right in days and I’m exhausted and I spent the entire day cleaning and the only thing I have left to do is this damn laundry, but I’m so tired, and -”

“Whoa, whoa,” Steve sat next to you to bring you into a firm hug, rubbing your back soothingly. If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that your lover gave the best hugs. He made you feel like the only person in the entire world. “Let me help, okay?”

“What? No,” You grumbled stubbornly. “You just got back from a mission, Steve, you need to sit and relax.”

“It was just reconnaissance.” Steve assured you. “I sat in a car with Bucky for a few days and then sat in debriefings for a few more - the last thing I need is to be sitting around on my ass.”

“Language,” You teased gently, chuckling when he gave you a glare that held no real heat.

“Go on, get your book. Relax for a little bit and let me take care of things.” Steve’s voice had an air of finality about it. You knew that he took a special kind of pride in taking care of those he loved, so you listened.

There was no denying the relief that washed over you. The warmth of his presence next to you as he methodically began folding clothes and recounting some of the antics he had to deal with thanks to Sam and Bucky’s constant bickering helped some of the tension ease from your exhausted body. Not to mention just how good he looked - so good that you could barely focus on the novel in your lap. Sure, seeing him in his uniform was its own special kind of sexy, but there was something about those soft long-sleeves and comfortable jeans that felt… domestic. The sight of him with his sleeves rolled up as he took care of your mixed laundry made something stir in your belly.

“What else needs to get done?” He asked after he took the basket upstairs and put it all away.

“Just tidying up the kitchen,” You tossed the book onto the coffee table and reached up to him with grabby hands that you knew he couldn’t resist. “Plus giving me kisses.”

Steve leaned down with a little grin, balancing himself on one knee against the couch cushions, and kissed you deeply. The little moan he gave against your lips when you eagerly accepted the teasing of his tongue made you shiver.

“You taste sweet.” He whispered as he crowded you closer into the couch, both hands cupping your face in a firm but gentle grip.

“Had strawberries before you came home.” You held him close by the collar of his shirt, probably stretching it out but you couldn’t really give a damn when he felt so good against you. “Forget cleaning, it can wait.”

“Yeah?” Steve teased, his face mere inches from yours as he gave you those hooded, hungry eyes that made your stomach flip. “Whatcha wanna do instead?”

“You.”

The cheekiness of your reply made him snatch you up, putting that super soldier strength to good use with a desperate grip on the soft flesh of your thighs. It was far from the first time he showed off his strength like that, but each time made your stomach flip in excitement just thinking about all of the things he could do to you. You hooked your ankles around his waist, your arms keeping you steady where they wrapped around his shoulders as he marched you upstairs and into your bedroom to drop you onto the mattress. Your thighs rubbed together at the sight of him standing over you, the rise and fall of his chest growing faster along with the hunger in his eyes.

“You work so hard, baby. Let me reward you.” He purred, tracing your ankle where the hem of your leggings ended, and his face lit up at your desperate nodding. You whined at the familiar need tightening in your belly over the strength behind his hands as he pushed your thighs open wide, his fingertips ghosting along your covered pussy. “Such a good girl for me…”

“Steve, please…” You whimpered, desperately pulling off your leggings. This little game of his, the teasing and soft touches ramping up into hot needy fucking, was something you had no issue playing any other time, but right now you couldn’t handle the wait. Steve caught on quickly and helped pull the clothes away from your legs before he ripped his shirt over his head.

“So needy for me, huh?” Steve slowly unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs. “Shirt off and lay your head on the pillows. I’ll take care of ya, sweetheart.”

You scrambled to follow his command, not missing the smirk your obedience garnered. The softness of his domination was addicting, left you yearning to hear the filthy praise that dripped from his lips like the sweetest ambrosia that could cure your every ache. Steve followed you up the bed, his briefs the only scrap of clothing left on his body, but before you could admire how gorgeous he looked, his hand hooked around your ankle to yank you closer. A sharp, surprised laugh melted into a moan when he finally got his mouth on you. His tongue rolled against your clit without preamble, completely abandoning the teasing to give you exactly what you were begging for.

“Oh fffuck!” You bit out, your head falling back into the pillows as your hips jolt up, and Steve chuckled darkly as he set his forearm over your hips to hold you in place, his other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise. You grabbed a handful of his short hair in retaliation, a delighted smile lighting up your face at the groan you got in return.

Fuck, he felt too good, knew your body too fucking well. You grew more and more wet with each pass of his tongue against your clit, your hips rolling in time with his ministrations as the two of you found a familiar rhythm.

“There you go, baby.” Steve encouraged as he eased a finger into your dripping pussy with a downright sinful groan, quickly adding another. “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

The dual pleasure of his fingers and tongue made you see stars, made your back arch and your thighs squeeze his head until your orgasm washed over you in a devastating wave. It wasn’t until you shoved him back by his head that he finally stopped his tortuous pleasure. The sight of him wiping the wetness from his mouth with the back of his hand still had your belly tightening with need.

“You did so good.” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to your thigh, then your navel, kissing a trail between your breasts and up your neck until he met your lips. You moaned at the filthy act of tasting yourself on his tongue. “Look so pretty when you come.”

The combination of his praise and the not-so-subtle press of his cock against your thigh had you keening beneath him, your leg hooking over his waist to drag him close enough to grind against the bulge in his briefs.

“Feel that?” He practically growled as he rutted down against you shamelessly. “That’s all for you baby. Gonna stuff your pretty pussy full’a my cum and you’re gonna say thank you for it too, you hear me?”

“I will, I promise… I promise, Stevie.” You babbled, losing any comprehensible thought other than the absolute dismay that he wasn’t absolutely wrecking you already. “Please fuck me?”

“Since you asked so sweetly,” Steve rid himself of his last scrap of clothes like they were burning him and entered you in one fluid thrust that had the both of you moaning in unison. His forehead fell to your shoulder as he let you adjust, hips swirling in tiny circles of their own accord because you felt so fucking good. “Ssso fuckin’ tight,”

The light desperation in your whimper made him smirk, his teeth sinking into your shoulder before soothing the mark with a lick of his tongue. “This is what you needed, huh baby? Just needed to relax on my cock...”

“S-Steve…” Was all you could manage, your eyes unfocused as he gave that first tentative thrust, followed quickly by a sharp, deep rhythm that made you see stars.

“Cockdrunk already?” He cooed but his cocky tone broke as you clung to him, your fingers digging into the muscle of his biceps as you used those thighs he adored against him, dragging him closer, deeper. “Fuckin’ needy little thing, aren’tcha? That’s okay, sweet baby, I got whatcha need.”

Steve pulled away and for a moment you clutched tighter, trying to keep him against you, but he pushed your legs back to your chest with a strength to be reckoned with, the new position making you feel infinitely more full and he growled at the feeling of you tightening around him. There were already fingertip bruises forming on your thighs where he held you right where he wanted you as his thrusts became faster, more desperate with his impending release, with the damn near feral need to see his cum leaking from your fucked out pussy.

It was the pressure of his thumb against your clit that forced you to find your words, your sweet cries of ‘please, please, please’ egging him on to roll his thumb until your hips jerked under the stimulation. You were so sensitive, so responsive to every little touch, it drove him fucking crazy.

“Come on my cock like a good girl,” Steve gritted out, angling his hips to grind his cock against that sweet spot that made you arch against him so prettily. “Thaaaat’s it…”

You broke underneath him, your second orgasm ripping through you in an intense burst that stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you to gasp as you shuddered. It was his favorite sight, watching you fall apart beneath him, and Steve let your leg settle around his waist once more to chase the high he balanced upon in faltered thrusts until he couldn’t hold back any longer. His pelvis pressed flush against your sweat-slick skin, some basic instinct demanding he shove himself as deep into your sensitive pussy as he could to fill you up.

He let himself melt against you, his full weight keeping you pressed against the mattress as he softened inside you, the both of you trying to catch your breath in the aftermath. You carded your fingers through his hair lazily, eyes closed as you let the satisfied exhaustion soak into you, grinning when your still fluttering walls made Steve hiss slightly. He still kept himself buried inside of you - so typical of him.

Sighing happily, Steve nuzzled his face further into your neck to trail sloppy kisses along your neck, pausing every now and then to lean back into your hand. Playing with his hair was the number one way to get him all warm and snuggly, especially if he was exhausted from giving you a thorough fucking. He gingerly eased himself off of you only to pull you close so you could lay your head on his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you even closer to sleep.

“Go to sleep, honey.” Steve rumbled, his voice full of his own exhaustion. “I’ll be right here when you wake.”

[fuck-customers]

i work at a local restaurant and my coworkers and i are all super friendly and sometimes even hang out outside of work but like. this one girl. we all fucking hate her and can't understand why she hasn't been fired. like let's go down the list ok. this is also vaguely chronological in order of things that started to bother me.

- she's tried to grab my dick twice, like on the first shift we worked together. didnt stop touching me until i snapped and was like "you know its actually quite possible to walk past people without touching them. your hands do not need to be on me." also has touched almost everyone.

- keeps calling my one coworker her girlfriend and touching her ass (who's like 12 years older than her and has been like "you're 18 and creepy this is not going to happen"). told her "tell [baby daddy] i said hi!!" at the end of a shift once too??

- has a boyfriend who shes ALWAYS texting, she will sneak off to the bathroom for 20+ mins at a time if its slow and i understand you're bored but you can't just leave your station unattended in a kitchen for 25%+ of your shift because we dont always have time to cover you. also her boyfriend has called the store before bc she didnt answer one of his texts back (bc she was actually working for once???) and has shown up at least 3x to talk to her.

- also just doesnt do her work when it IS busy. will insist on doing random parts of everyone else's work while also making everyone else do her work. we have the kitchen divided up like that for a reason stay in your fucking spot in your fucking lane so we can get shit made.

- has no call no showed more times than should be acceptable and has something come up every week that requires her taking time off on short notice. this is so common that if shes closing we usually have a backup closer scheduled. what is the point truly

- bullies almost everyone especially the less confrontational coworkers who will never say anything. i think she thinks she's being funny but she's just fucking rude. aside from the store manager, i have become the sole exception to her rule bc a) i shut down shit she tries to pull with coworkers i know won't stand up to her themselves and b) i dish it back out to her in the form of malicious compliance (see next bullet)

- always is trying to tell people how to do their jobs even tho she never fucking does hers lol. tries to tell people all the time what SHE would do even on shit shes never been trained for and even to managers?? im her equal but far more respected because I Do My Job At Work TM and when we close together, she tries to pressure me into doing all of my shit at least an hour early bc "haha i just wanna go home!! lol 🤪" even though it's a massive inconvenience to me and everyone to do everything as early as SHE wants it done. literally everyone does shit early (but by like 5-15 mins) when its slow but i will purposefully follow the closing list by the letter of the law which, so far, has been the only way anyone has been able to shut her down. (management both approves and thinks this is funny, she literally asks my coworkers to go help me because im """behind""" and they're all like "no hes fine" and she just sulks)

-always wants to get in everyones business. like when there are established friend groups at a new workplace i understand wanting to fit in and find your place but you don't know everyone's business, nor do you need to. you don't need to know peoples' relationship histories that other people only know because it was once current. you dont need to know what everyones talking about all the time. a conversation is not purposefully excluding you if its only meant for one other person and you're not even supposed to be in the breakroom but here you are texting your boyfriend and getting in my business!!

- will talk to EVERY customer for AGES when on register. customers hate it, your coworkers hate it. keep the line moving please im begging

- i was recently told by another coworker that she has been stealing too?? that person wont tell me what so i have no idea if its personal property or company property but if i catch her with her hands in my bag i am dragging her by her hair straight to the office and calling the owners my damn self.

ive been typing this out for an hour and i still feel like im missing something. i know all the managers want her gone i just dont understand why shes still here. we aren't understaffed anymore and she's not good enough at her job to warrant getting away with this much. next time i see some shit i am pulling the head manager into the office myself and asking why she's still here because this list is semi chronological and i literally dont understand how someone can get past step one.

[norcumii]

for the ask meme: Rex/Obi or pairing/characters of choice - Werewolf/vampire AU / Sick/injured / Stranded Due to Inclement Weather / Huddling for warmth

For this trope mashup meme.

This was CLEARLY influenced by seananmcguire's Newsflesh series, which was the last zombie related media I interacted with, and I regret NOTHING.

(Meanwhile, much worldbuilding was done by Dogmatix, who I was foolish enough to let near the plunnies again ^_^)

*****

The problem with zombies, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but muse, was that they stopped thinking. Oh, there was some low-level intelligence left in there, but it was mostly focused on consuming the living. Not tactics, for the most part, not unless the bastards were very fresh or in large enough groups, but that also meant that when some brilliant asshole declared “oh, the zombies wouldn’t/couldn’t ever do that,” no one consulted the zombies.

Thus, an early morning patrol in an area that “never saw more than one or two zombies” turned into a clusterfuck retreat. Though ‘patrol’ was rather a gross overstatement for just the two of them taking an idle walk because some days, Rex was too jittery for sleep and too damn self-sacrificing to admit that he missed early morning runs.

There was always enough fog coming in from the river that they should have been fine.

There also shouldn’t have been an entire pack of at least a dozen, dozen and a half zombies in the area. Where the fuckers had even come from was an unpleasant mystery.

“Rex?” Obi-Wan murmured into the man’s ear. “Are you with me?” he asked as if he couldn’t make out the glacially slow beat of his heart.

Rex groaned, head lolling to nestle further in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck. He mumbled something that was probably a curse, which left Obi-Wan in the unenviable position of having to close his eyes and take his own steadying breath. Yes, on the one hand he did have an unfairly attractive boyfriend draped across his lap, straddling his hips and feeling like he was several seconds away from some serious necking.

On the other, they were also treed a good thirty feet above a pack of damned zombies, which had already tried seriously munching on Rex, and ‘necking’ could have serious consequences when one of them was an actual vampire.

Speaking of. Obi-Wan shifted in the cautious little jig in an attempt to nudge Rex more to the left. If he could just free up his arm enough, then he could move around while not tossing them off the tree stand or dislodging the thick emergency poncho that was the only thing keeping Rex from turning into a charred crisp. It was not sized for two, but there hadn’t been time to be more careful and drape it over just Rex instead of just plonking it down over the two of them.

“If you refuse to leave base again without your entire damned armor because of this, I’m going to be very put out,” Obi-Wan informed him, getting another incoherent unhappy noise. The armor was good at keeping the soldiers bite free – not that they needed to worry about the zombification business, but it still hurt them and fed the damn undead. It was also effective at keeping the soldiers touch starved and isolated in ways Obi-Wan had difficulty standing.

Another careful shift, and he could just barely dig out one of the small, squishy packs he kept in his jacket for emergencies.

Since his luck was shit, as soon as he pulled it free, the bastard caught on a loose thread, and with his claws he didn’t dare grab too hard for it, and down it tumbled. One of the zombies lunged, snapping at it, and blood exploded all across the remains of the bastard’s face.

Not being too intelligent, the rest of the pack turned on it immediately. Obi-Wan tried to tune out the disgusting carnage, being much more careful on his second attempt. He didn’t have many packets to spare. This one, he managed to juggle up in front of Rex’s face, jostling it a little. “Here. Drink,” he ordered, hoping that would be sufficient. He hated trying to insert the little sippy straws – Anakin had loved juice pouches back as a child, and they’d had similar fiendish straws. Anakin had learned how to insert the little bastards without a problem, but he always asked Obi-Wan to do it for him – because Obi-Wan had never quite managed to master the process, and Anakin was a damned brat.

Bad enough when it was juice.

One way or another, Rex was conscious enough to shift and bite down on the plastic packet. It was always a wonder to watch the soldiers’ regenerative powers at work. As the level of mostly artificial plasma lowered, color drained back into Rex’s face, the nasty burns along truly unfair cheekbones fading as muscle and skin reknit. He could smell the distressing blood-and-raw-meat stench fading, and only then did he start to relax.

When things had started to go to hell around the globe, the powers that be had huddled together around their failing infrastructure and went looking for fantastical solutions to unnatural problems. Obi-Wan could only imagine the levels of exhaustion and terror that had led someone to the conclusion that vampires might be immune to the infections that spread the zombie virus. The sheer potential of that going horribly wrong was at least one movie franchise long, if not several, yet somehow they’d dedicated enough science to make artificial vampires. Oh, technically it wasn’t vampirism, but ‘drank blood, super fast and strong, sunburn to death within minutes, resting vitals dropping down far enough to pass as dead’ was close enough for everyone but petty bureaucrats and pedantic assholes.

Even at the time, Obi-Wan had cynically noted how that meant both a short leash, and a strong vested interest in keeping as many people from going zombie as possible. He’d also noted the infuriating demographics of those who were selected for and survived the process of becoming vampires.

He tried not to think on that much nowadays, because the heightened blood pressure and carnage bothered Rex.

The packet slurped dry in a way that always raised Obi-Wan’s hackles, then Rex blinked up at him a few times in confusion. “You’re fuzzy,” Rex accused.

“That’s called a beard, dear,” Obi-Wan drawled in his most obnoxious tone, pretending he didn’t also have fur sprouting most places, nor the partial muzzle of a transformation enough to give him speed and jumping ability enough to get to one of the safe perches they’d set up weeks ago.

The Powers That Be might have created vampires, but they had also somehow missed the small but stubborn population of entirely naturally occurring werewolves (and affiliated were-creatures) around the world. Some, like Obi-Wan and his pack, were doing their damndest to both keep a low profile and help the poor bastards trying to protect the last of humanity.

Some, like Obi-Wan, might have become unwisely open to certain non-lycanthropes due to unfortunate feelings – not that Obi-Wan was ever about to complain about that.

Either his sarcastic tone or the guttural noises of thwarted zombies sank in, because Rex stiffened and glared down. “Fuck!” he hissed, thighs clenching in a way that Obi-Wan both very much did and very much did not appreciate. His eyes damn well crossed at the wiggle that followed – he could only guess that Rex was going for a weapon that he didn’t have.

“Stop that!” he snarled, letting the wolf out a little more. He needed the muscle and mass to keep Rex in place, longer paws digging into the tree trunk for a slightly more secure hold that was notgroping his idiot boyfriend.

His idiot boyfriend leveled a flat, unimpressed look at him. “Really?” Rex grumped. His eyes flicked down, then back up. “Right now?”

“So sorry, but some of us don’t need to ingest extra blood to get it up, and under less fraught circumstances this might be my idea of a good time.” He tried for a drawl, but it was much more strained than he meant. Oh well, it wasn’t like Rex didn’t know he could be ridiculous. And it really wasn’t intentional.

“Less fraught meaning less zombies?”

“And less daylight.” Obi-Wan didn’t mean for his tone to turn sharp, either, but it did even as he very carefully wrapped his arms tighter around Rex. He made certain not to disturb the poncho, but he, at least, wanted the reassurance. He still wasn’t over the terror of having to go mostly wolf to grab Rex from the pack he was trying to slow down, nor the horror of slinging him over a shoulder to go pelting through the trees. Madcap desperation to find a tree stand before a foggy dawn was not his idea of fun. “Your life is worth a hell of a lot more than an inconvenient hard on.”

Rex huffed a laugh, leaning in to rest his cheek against Obi-Wan’s. “Stop being charming.”

“I’m afraid that’s going to happen approximately never. So sorry.”

For a moment, it was just them – two idiots cuddled together, healthy and alive on a genuinely beautiful, bright Spring morning.

Then a terrible gurgling noise broke the moment, and Rex glanced down at the pack still mingling around the tree, groaning their displeasure at not remembering how to climb. “Was that a zombie?” he asked, as if he damn well didn’t know the truth.

“Shapeshifting burns calories,” Obi-Wan reminded him primly. “As does marathon sprints lugging around idiots like potato sacks.”

“That explains the bruises on my stomach,” he muttered, shifting about to rummage in one of Obi-Wan’s pockets. “Jerky?”

“Please.” All in all, now that matters were calmer, Obi-Wan almost hoped that a rescue would take its sweet time. This was almost nice – all things considered.

~end

[rcl-stan]

would i be friends with the hoo characters irl?

back on my bs babes 😌 happy greenlit series btw 🥳

jason - i dont think id hate him but our personalities would definitely clash a lot, especially when its not in our best interests to be fighting at the moment. but i feel like itd be really fun to exchange style tips (aka i wanna redo his entire wardrobe so bad). we’d probably meet through band or something and then we’d have a couple other classes together, but those other classes are the ones we do the most group projects in and we’re always together which almost never turns out well. he’d probably think he does most of the work and will complain about it constantly but i’d do the same amount plus correcting all his mistakes and making sure it looks nice so smd jason 🤨 hes super kind to everyone tho as a default so that makes up for it a little

piper - yes. 100% we’d be friends. she has great style and a great taste in music. she’s actually close with jason and we redo his wardrobe together. she’s definitely one of those indecisive arts kids that has participated in every arts program in school by graduation and in attempts to not let that make her a pick me she becomes a little bit of a pick me but its okay. surprisingly enough tho shes not very popular even though she radiates that “im popular” energy. its probably bc she comes off as an asshole but she’s actually really nice with an awful rbf and no awareness of tone. we also both have short fuses and we fuck bitches up together. bestie goals

leo - ALSO YES. everything that most people hate about him i absolutely love. he’s exactly my type of person. he’s definitely one of those ambiverted robotics kids or those drummers with the energy of a firecracker. platonically in love with this boy. we’d TOTALLY gaslight our straight/white friends into thinking they’re racist or homophobic at any minor inconvenience they give us. “can you grab my pencil sorry i dropped it right by your foot” “its just out of reach sorry man” “oh what are you racist now?? you hate mexicans or something??” “😟 no pls i-” my favorite pastime. i feel like how we’ve struggled in life would also help with bonding and we’d understand each other and how our brains work well, pretty much just getting that good “i understand you” energy thats hard to get. plus he’s literally so hilarious and he has that dumb sense of humor that makes me tear up even though i know the joke isnt that funny. 4liferz next question

Reyna - oh no. she’s so sweet and i understand she’s been through a lot but there’s no way we’d get along. like honestly i think she’d just bore me. i need a lot of energy and i dont think she really meets that requirement. too focused on getting into an ivy league like bebe chill we’re sophomores its okay. i feel like she’d be one of those people that just get on my nerves for being around. nothing against her, i just get bothered very easily. as i get to know her though it wouldnt be bad. id maybe get her coffee on her birthday and tell her to relax even tho she wouldnt, but she deserves the break shes slaying a little too hard on herself

Rachel - i cant believe i left her out of the last one omg shes in this series a bit tho its okay- i think we’d get along and be good friends, but she’s probably one of those ones i can’t be around too much, like i think id really get her but i also think shed drain me pretty fast iykwim. absolute sweetheart tho. we’d probably meet in tech theatre and we’d probably drive to get food or coffee before practice with either just each other or a smaller group. we’d also talk about astrology all the time and i love her for that

clarisse - another i cant believe i left out shes not even in this one isnt she in college- okay okay UH id be intimidated definitely but like in the i have a crush on you but youd crush me way. i know i absolutely adore her character but i think shed be one of those seniors i hate, like just bc of smaller things she does here and there and since i dont care enough to get closer to her id assume she just sucks. my other friends who know her would totally be like “yall should talk more” and id REFUSE just to spite them after a point, even though i know they’re probably right that we’d get along if i gave her a chance

octavian - imma be real id bully this guy RELENTLESSLY hes got a massive ego and i wouldnt hold back. hed be like this girl i know that i have like four year old beef with OMG i hate that girl and im just now realizing if octavian were a hs student now they’d probably have a similar personality- 😟. a hard pass from me. we’d go at each other for fun but hed always lose. he wouldnt act like it but he would. like yungblud fighting the gender norms and losing pathetically. like what is he wearing. anyways

hazel - oh no. shed be one of those freshmen with a lot of audacity. even though shes absolutely wise beyond her years that doesnt mean she gets to act like an upperclassman like freshmen are freshmen, but maybe its the lack of understanding for social status. like id be nice to her but she’d bother me so much. id maybe miss her when i graduate tho

frank - like reyna, too chill. he has a short fuse for me and my kind of people tho so we’d probably fight all the time anyways. straight As, spelling bee, studco, gov extracurriculars, that dude is my worst nightmare. i have some friends like that but the thing is they have a personality. frank lacks in that area. stop focusing on which university of california you wanna go to and worry about yourself. not yourself as in academics, i mean yourself king ☹️

[angel-tries-to-write]

Bloody favor

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan Rating: Explicit Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Hanji Zoë Word count: 3204 Genre: smut, fluff

When Hanji suffers from menstrual pain, there's only one person who can help them.

Sometimes Hanji joked, that if only they could do more experiments on Eren without hurting him, they would be able to get to know titans so well, they could predict the times they attack. Levi would always roll his eyes and say that it would be very convenient, yet very impossible as well, since the titans weren't much known for thinking, with the obvious exception for shifters. Unfortunately for him, the crazy scientist wasn't the type to give up on their theories, until proven wrong, besides that would be a wonderful ability, to predict the attack and being able to properly prepare for it. Hanji felt it on a personal level, knowing there is a certain pattern to their behavior would made all their lives and fight less stressful, and stress was the last thing they needed.

Their body was acting weird recently, it felt uncomfortable, heavy and tired all the time, their personality has changed as well, they always were impulsive and short tempered, but the past few days have proven that their patience was very short, to the point that when Nanaba joked that maybe they are pregnant, she barely dodged a particularly heavy book Hanji threw at her. Not that it was impossible, those hot nights with Levi might or might not had something to do with that, even if none of them would ever admit something was between them. But Hanji knew better, Nana's stupid joke didn't make them paranoid, but they actually connected the dots: it wasn't pregnancy, but upcoming period.

And obviously, obviously, this thing always comes unwanted. It seems to have this annoying ability of picking the worst timing ever, especially when you were busy. Hanji knew that very well, they lived for long enough to experience menstrual bleeding in various moments and places they neither expected it nor wanted. Super important and absorbing experiment? Check. Boring but mandatory meeting? Check. Long expedition that was supposed to gain valuable information? Check. First secret date with Levi? Of course. If Hanji only wanted and cared enough, they could make a very impressive list of all the places and moments they started bleeding out of nowhere. And they hated it with passion.

It seemed like, at this point, the only inconvenient situation when this condition hadn't started, was a battle with titans. Obviously, with Hanji's luck in this field, it was nearly undoubted that it was only a matter of time. Yet as usual, they weren't thinking about such things, when the titans attacked, they took their gear and rushed to the Wall with no hesitation. Even though they felt tired, overwhelmed, and they really didn't want to move, Hanji knew it was their duty as a soldier. So they fought, they fought with passion and rage no one ever expected from them. For the first time they didn't care about the experiments, information, any scientific knowledge, all they wanted was to defeat the titans and go to sleep.

At some point, when they slaughtered their way through another titan's neck, its steaming blood splattered onto their face, blinding them temporarily. Hanji swore under their breath, pushed the goggles up to see anything at least and headed to the wall for a quick break. Of course, titan blood evaporates eventually, but they didn't have time to wait until this happens, so they had to clean the goggles manually.

“Squad leader! Are you okay?” Moblit screamed, running in their direction, as Hanji took the goggles off their head, to properly wipe them.

“As okay as I can be in the middle of the battle, thank you” they answered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You're bleeding, four eyes” this time Levi spoke, though his voice was perfectly calm in comparison to Moblit's.

“I don't have time to bleed. Tell me where, so I can ignore it” Hanji did their best to look at him angrily, but they couldn't even see his face, so it was a challenge.

“Your pants” he pointed out. Hanji looked down to see a pretty large crimson pool, staining their white pants. Perfect. They should have expected that. It would also explain the constant pain in their abdomen they were experiencing.

“Oh for fuck's sake, not now” they groaned. Hanji wasn't swearing often, only when they were really tired or angry. “Fuck it, I'll take care of this later.”

“Maybe you should—”

“Don't you fucking dare to tell me what I should, unless you have more experience with periods than I have, shorty!” they snapped at Levi, very efficiently making him shut up. He knew that angry Hanji was the scariest person in the world. Apparently Moblit didn't, so he opened his mouth, but Levi elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don't even try, you'll only make them angrier” he said quietly. Meanwhile Hanji finished cleaning their goggles and they could see again, so they rushed back to fight. But as they landed on a rooftop of one of the smaller buildings, they could hear another person landing behind. They knew these footsteps too well to not figure out who followed them.

“I swear, one comment and you're dead” they growled, certainly not in the mood for bickering and jokes.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, approaching his partner. Hanji could see concern in his usually cold eyes. At first they wanted to yell at him, but they knew it wasn't going to help anyone.

“Yes” they sighed, leaning against the wall of the nearby, taller building, massaging their stomach in hope of easing the cramps.

“What I was going to suggest was that maybe you should go back and take some rest. I know it's your duty to fight” he quickly added, before they could interrupt him. “But just like injured soldiers, you only cause risk for yourself and the others by not being in your best shape.”

“I'm not injured. It's nothing, I can fight” they protested. Levi stepped forward and pinned them against the wall.

“Your pain is blinding you. Don't you see? All you've been doing is flying around and slashing titans like a maniac. That's not you, Hanji” he said and they could easily tell he was scared.

“Then what do you think I'm supposed to do? Rest comfortably while my squad and friends are fighting, bleeding and dying? Guess what, I can fight and bleed and not die” they stated angrily.

“Alright, then I'm going to have to use the more drastic methods” he leaned in and kissed them. But Hanji was not having it, they pushed him away as fast as they could.

“Are you out of your mind?! Someone might see us!” they scolded him furiously.

“Let them see, I don't care. You need relief from pain. Then I'm at your service” he smirked suggestively and put his hand on their thigh. “My body is yours, all you have to do is to use it the way you desire” he offered, pointing at himself.

“Fuck you” they spat angrily, but their blush was an obvious evidence they loved this idea, just maybe not in this place and timing.

“Excellent answer, now come and do it yourself.”

“Later” they sighed defeated, knowing fully well they couldn't resist him for long. “Once we're finished here, we can discuss your generous offer” they gave him a quick kiss and used their ODM gear to get to the other side of the area. Luckily the battle was soon to be won, after that, when they took care of the wounded and dead, Hanji could finally rest. The insides of their thighs were stained with various shades of brown and red from dried and fresh blood, and their body hurt, so all they dreamed about was a bath, a massage and, oh yes, almost naked Levi waiting for them with an already prepared bath.

“Ah, finally, you decided to show up. I thought I'd have to go and drag your dirty ass here.”

“I don't deserve you” Hanji said quietly, their eyes filled with tears.

“Less talking, more undressing. There's a bucket with cold water we have to put your bloody clothes in” he approached them and started to help them get out of ODM straps, then clothes. “Why didn't you change? I imagine it must have been very uncomfortable to wear this for that long. What did I tell you about self care?” he asked while working on taking out all the straps.

“I know, I was going to, but there was so much to do and so many people to take care of, that I didn't have time to even think about myself” Hanji explained, unable to look him in the eyes, they felt like they failed him.

“You really have to learn to care about yourself, shitty glasses” Levi said, his tone was difficult to read, even though Hanji knew him so well.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize to me. You did harm only to yourself” he said softly, kissing their neck. It tasted like sweat and dirt, which meant Hanji really needed that bath. He helped them undress completely, trying to be gentle. “Are you still in pain?”

“Yes. But I also want you so bad right now” they admitted, shamelessly staring at his chest. They were so close that they didn't even need glasses.

“Are you sure?” he asked, getting rid of his own remaining clothes. “I don't want to cause you more pain.”

“Really? That's what you care about?” Hanji raised their brow in confusion.

“What else should I?” he took a cloth, dipped it in water, kneeled for better view and started to clean all the blood on Hanji's thighs.

“Don't you think it's disgusting? And dirty?” they asked hesitantly. “Like... even more than a regular sex?”

“There's nothing that can't be cleaned later. Just like I do it now” he wiped dried blood off their skin, proving his point.

“Are you sure? I mean, cleaning is one thing, but sex?”

“Hanji... Don't make me say sappy shit” Levi sighed.

“Say it. I know you hate it, but maybe that's what I need right now” they leaned against the bathtub, to let him get a better access to their legs and crotch.

“Alright. But if you laugh, there will be consequences” he warned them. “I've heard once, that a true warrior is not afraid of a little blood on his sword, and I pretty much agree with this sentence. I don't like it, but I can handle it” he said with his eyes focused on Hanji's leg, too embarrassed to look up and meet their eyes.

“That's... disgustingly sweet.”

“Also ridiculous and pathetic.”

“Yeah. Don't do it again.”

“Don't worry, I'm not going to. But what I mean is that if you need me, I don't care about anything but your comfort” Levi stated, putting the cloth in the bucket with cold water, with Hanji's pants and underwear. He sat back on his heels and looked up, waiting for their move.

“You look really hot right now. I love to see you on your knees” they smirked, biting their bottom lip.

“Oh, I can imagine. I like to see you in this position too” he replied, there was a spark in his eyes.

“I feel almost bad I won't be able to properly use this position” Hanji lowered themself onto his lap, straddling him, then wrapped their arms around his neck. “Almost” they whispered and kissed him. Levi returned the kiss with passion, one hand entangled in their messy hair, the other caressing their buttcheek. Hanji's hand slid down his chest and perfect abs, but hesitated and only barely brushed his hardening penis. “Are you sure you want it?” they asked, looking him in the eyes.

“Yes. Now touch me, Hanji” he growled and captured their lips in another hungry kiss. The timing was perfect, just when he did it, he could feel his partner's hand on his dick, which made him moan in their mouth. He squeezed their butt in response, but that made Hanji break the kiss.

“Just be gentle, alright? My body is quite sensitive and not in the nice way. Especially my boobs, try to avoid touching them, it hurts” they asked and Levi nodded in response.

“Anything you want” he promised quietly and leaned his head on their shoulder, closing his eyes and focusing on pleasure they were giving him.

“Ass gripping is fine, besides you do it so well” Hanji purred, palming him for a while and waiting for their lover to tell them he's ready. Which he did, after a moment.

“I think that's enough. Do you want me to warm you up too?”

“Umm... no, you don't have to...”

“Hanji.”

“I...” they sighed, seeing his stare. “Yes, I do” they admitted.

“It's the first time I see you this shy and embarrassed. Even our first time wasn't this awkward” Levi noticed, his thumb found their clit almost immediately. Hanji gasped when he touched that little bundle of nerves. Period cramps made it difficult for them to actually feel the pleasure in its fullest, but their lover's magical hands were doing their job very well, making Hanji feel at least a little better.

“I wasn't bleeding during our first time. Neither I felt like shit” they explained, having difficulties with gathering their thoughts when Levi was touching them like that.

“Does it really matter that much to you? It's just some blood, no big deal” he peppered their jawline with kisses.

“We'll talk about it the next time it gets on your clothes” Hanji chuckled, but Levi pressed his hand harder, making them moan.

“Clothes are a different story. I don't happen to have any now, though” he noticed, tracing their skin with his fingers. “Besides, I don't mind getting dirty from time to time. As long as I'm with you” he confessed softly.

Hanji looked at him with these beautiful, big, brown eyes and pulled him in a passionate, breathtaking kiss, then pushed his hand away and connected their bodies by sliding themself on his cock. Both of them moaned into each other's mouth at the sensation. Levi pulled his lover closer, grabbing their thighs and ass firmly, to help them move with ease, once they were ready.

This act was quite different than their usual lovemaking, but also very familiar. Levi ignored his pleasure, focusing completely on giving all the control to Hanji. It was rare, usually the one who wanted domination had to fight for it, because both of them enjoyed being in control. Even when they felt like just leaning back and leaving most of the action to their partner, none of them liked to make it that easy. But this time he knew it was a necessity. Hanji needed relief and distraction from pain, not further discomfort, so he just had to let them do whatever they needed. It felt good for him too, so he didn't actually mind. And he obviously tried to help whenever they struggled with pace or angle. It was a quite weird, slightly uncomfortable and pretty awkward comfort sex, but no less sweet and loving than their usual intercourses. Slow pace might have felt less intense than rough and fast act, but it always allowed them to feel their bodies in a different way, to learn each other and to discover new sides of pleasure. They moved in slow, steady pace, even a little sloppy, their orgasms building up like glowing embers instead of burning flame and finally flooding them calmly like a lazy sea wave, instead of usual explosion. But they enjoyed it, that soft pleasure, so different, but still satisfying.

“You were right. I needed it” Hanji panted, hiding their face in a crook of Levi's neck.

“Do you feel better?” he asked, embracing his partner.

“Yeah. I don't feel pain for now” they answered with a small smile.

“Good. We can take a bath and go to sleep” he decided, kissing his lover's shoulder and caressing their butt and thighs. “Come on, you deserve to rest after that battle.”

“You too, captain” Hanji lazily slid off him. “That looks scary” they said, staring at his cock and lap, which were covered with their menstrual blood. Levi didn't say a word, he simply reached for the cloth he previously cleaned Hanji with and wiped himself, then his lover.

“There” he gave them a quick kiss. “Now get your pretty ass into the bathtub, or I'll throw you there myself.”

“You think I have a pretty ass?” Hanji echoed, surprised by his words.

“Of course I do, you have a lovely ass” he stood up with a little difficulty, his legs were getting numb because of this position.

“Your ass is lovely too” they smiled, standing up as well. It felt really tempting to annoy Levi further, but Hanji decided they're too tired for this and stepped into the bathtub as he told them.

After a quick bath, they both headed to Hanji's room. They tried to hide their relationship, but it was common among the veterans to seek comfort in someone else, it didn't necessarily mean they were dating. It became clear after one time, when all of them woke up in a giant pile in Erwin's room, after a particularly rough expedition. It was the day when the commander allowed to bend the rules for their all mental health. It turned out to be extremely helpful. Just when Levi and Hanji were sneaking through the hallway, they heard a scream. It was Nanaba. But before the couple could react, they heard Miche's voice and screaming stopped. She had a nightmare again and he had to calm her down, sometimes in a quite drastic way, like yelling at her first, because nothing else but shock would work, only then he could hug her, when she was aware what is real and what is not. Hanji and Levi exchanged pitying glances, on top of everything they all had been through, Nana had a terrible childhood. Levi knew exactly how she felt, he wasn't surprised she couldn't sleep well, though sharing a bed with someone else was really helpful. Usually she would come to Hanji or Moblit, but recently she started to sleep only with Miche and surprisingly, her nightmares became even less frequent and less intense. Just like Levi's insomnia eased a lot since he started to share bed with Hanji. No one questioned why or how it was working, it just was and everyone simply accepted it.

Finally they reached the room and crawled into the bed. Or at least they tried. Hanji just groaned as they collapsed ungracefully onto the mattress, too exhausted to even cover themself with a blanket. Levi had to do it for them, as he placed himself behind their back, to massage their stomach.

“You're the best, Levi” they whispered. “I don't know what would I do without you.”

“Go to sleep, Hanji” he kissed their neck and nestled himself comfortably. He didn't have to tell them twice, they dozed off a moment later. Levi looked at them for a while, before closing his own eyes. He hated to see them in pain, but he was slightly happier, knowing he could help them even a little.

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

Tripping Over Myself

Pairing: Logan x OC (Charlotte Wheeler)

Summary: Charlotte’s not the best at communicating and it gets her in a bit of trouble. (takes place shortly after Drawn to a Flame)

Warnings: Language. Lots and lots of language. Seriously...so many f-words. lol Also, mentions of her previous car accident (it’s not super detailed, but it is brought up a few times) and her resulting injuries.

Word Count: 5525. I swear ... I was certain this was going to be nothing more than maybe 2k words. And then this happened and the thing that I wanted to happen in this fic didn’t even happen so that’s fun lol

Logan belongs to Pixelberry, but the other two lovelies are all mine.

A/N #1: This was written for @rodappreciationweek​ MC day. And sticking with the theme from the first two pieces in this series, I have pulled the title from the lyrics of Shawn Mendes’s Stitches.

Also... a huge huge thank you to @burnsoslow for reading a piece of this that had me chasing my tail for what seemed like forever and fixing it for me. You are the best!!

“Hey hey hey! The hell you think you’re doin?”

Freezing mid step to turn back around to where Paul was glaring at her from his now-seated position where he'd rolled out from under her car on his creeper, Charlotte scrunched her nose up in confusion. “You were bitchin’ that you didn’t have your 3/8 down there. Figured I’d grab it so you’d stop muttering to yourself.”

“I had one rule for letting you stay after you showed up here today. And I made it explicitly clear.”

“But – “

“No. No buts.”

“C’mon Paul! You can’t seriously expect me to sit on that damn stool the entire time we’re here. I am fully capable of walking to the toolbox and grabbing a goddamn socket!”

“Lottie, sweetheart. You are still healing. You need to take it easy.” Instead of the calming effect she was sure he was shooting for, the soft gentleness of Paul’s voice just reminded her of an adult trying to calm a child who was in the middle of throwing a massive tantrum. And that ratcheted her mild frustration up until she was actually throwing a damn fit.

“For fuck’s sake! I know I’m fucking hurt. But I’m not a complete invalid. I don’t think me taking three fucking steps across this damn storage unit and picking up a tool that weighs a few ounces is going to do me in when a fucking slab of concrete didn’t!” Her hands flew up to steeple across her nose and mouth. “Shit. Paul – “

Gaze firmly locked on his white-knuckled grip on his wrench, Paul cut her off with a slight shake of his head. “Nah. It’s … it’s fine, sweetheart.”

In two shaky steps, Charlotte was across the unit and gingerly kneeling in front of him. Slowly, as if she were approaching a spooked cat, she eased the wrench out of his hold so she could wrap his hand in her own. “No. It’s not ‘fine.’ I … I shouldn’t have said that. I promised I’d stop acting so nonchalant about the accident.” Before he could interject, she nudged his knee with her own. “Shush, lover. I really am so incredibly sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. You’re only trying to look out for me. And I appreciate that more than I could ever say.”

Finally lifting his head from staring at the floor between them, Paul’s teary eyes met hers, twisting her heart even harder. In barely a whisper, he asked, “The hell did you have to go there for?”

Letting out a harsh sigh, Charlotte stood up and whirled around. It was a motion she instantly regretted when every thing went a little off kilter and her vision started to swim. Ugh! Not this shit again. She fought against the urge to lean against the work bench to her right, not wanting Paul to decide that she needed to be taken home: that was the last place she wanted to be at that particular moment.

“Lottie?”

Finally giving up any thoughts she'd had of blowing off his question with the pretense of being fine, she practically exploded, “Ugh. I’m just … I’m so fucking tired of all the hovering!” Her fist closed around one of the lug-nut caps that were lined up on the bench, waiting patiently for the new wheels and tires that had yet to be ordered to be installed. The urge to hurl it at the closed roll-up door was only eclipsed by the desire to not mar its mirror-like finish: finding replacements that matched the original set from L.A. was hard enough the first time and she certainly didn’t want to have to do it again because she'd briefly lost her damn mind. So she forced herself to replace it into its previous spot and let out another, albeit quieter, sigh. “Look … I love Logan, ok? Like all that head over heels, all my heart bullshit? I feel all of it for him. With him. But fuck it all. He has barely given me six inches to breathe since he showed up in my damn living room. I know it's only been a few weeks, but it has felt like years and not in a good way. I mean, I had to sneak out of my own fucking home just to come down here today!”

“Sweetheart – “

“I know. And I get it. I scared the shit out of him. Hell, I scared the shit outta both of you guys. But … “ Finally turning back around – slowly and carefully this time -- to face Paul again, she let her shoulders sag. “I can’t live with someone micromanaging every second of my day. Every move I make. I … I cannot go back to that kinda life.”

Stepping up to stand in front of her, Paul gently rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms. “Have you talked to him? Told him all this?”

She laughed bitterly. “I have tried. So many times over the past few weeks. But every time I try to bring this or anything remotely related to the accident up, he just completely shuts down on me.” Voice breaking with the tears she was fighting to hold back, she muttered, “I can’t lose him again. But I can’t keep doing this either.”

“C’mere.” Careful of her still-casted arm and still-tender ribs, he wrapped his arms around her. Instinctively she tucked her face against his neck, letting his presence soothe her. After several silent moments, he pressed a kiss to her temple and asked, “You want me to talk to him ‘bout it?”

“As much as I would love for you to do that … you can’t. I have to be the one to get through to him if this is really going to work between us.”

Tightening his hug ever-so-slightly, Paul kissed her temple again. “I’m so proud of you, Lottie.”

“For what?”

“The girl I met a lil over a year ago would never.”

Pushing back from him enough to see his face, she narrowed her eyes at him as she tried to decipher his meaning. When she came up empty, she questioned him, point blank, “The hell nonsense are you talkin’ about?”

“When you first started pestering me at the sideshows, trying to bully me into giving you a spot in one of the races. You had everything so locked down, I’m not sure a stick of dynamite would have gotten you to open up. Even after I succumbed to my still-ongoing case of Stockholm Syndrome oof – “ using her cast to knock him in the stomach may not have been her smartest idea, but it was still an effective form of retaliation – “and we started hanging out more, you kept most of your feelings tucked away in that vault. I mean, sure, you eventually let me in, little by little … but, my point is, I’m proud of you for admitting how you are feeling.”

Despite the way her eyes rolled exaggeratedly, she couldn’t keep her lips from twitching with the smile threatening to break out across her face. “Would you shut up already?”

“Only after we circle back to that bit about you sneaking out to come down here. Thought you said Logan drove you?”

“Um … how ‘bout we go back to you singing my praises?” All she got in response was a stare down from Paul, so she relented with a sigh. “Fine. I noticed Logan had dozed off, so I slipped out and called a cab to bring me down.” When his eyes went wide, she held up her free hand and quickly added, “I left him a note. I’m not the one that just vanishes without a trace.” The venom in her words caught even her by surprise.

“Maybe without a trace. But never without a conversation.”

“Ugh.” Charlotte’s head fell forward so that her forehead was resting against his chest, grumbling, “Thought you were ‘posed to be my friend and stick up for me?” He shot her a knowing look, but she continued on before he could launch into the spiel she'd already heard dozens of times before. “Fine. Ok. You win. Save the damn lecture and put the time to better use. Say … running me home?”

Laughing, Paul retorted, “Bout freakin’ time, sweetheart.”

A short time later, Paul was pulling up to the curb in front of her apartment building. Mind already running through the things that she needed to say to Logan as she reached for the door handle, she jumped when Paul’s hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder. “Don’t I even get a ‘goodbye’ or ‘thank you’ first?”

“Shit! I’m sorry! Thank you so much. For letting me hang. For forcing me to talk this shit out. For bringing my ass home.”

Chuckling indulgently, he told her, “You’re welcome. For everything.” She once again started to climb from the car, but stopped when he continued, “But, I need you to promise me that you won’t sneak out like this again.”

Chuckling indulgently, she shrugged her shoulders and opened her door before tossing back, “I would, but I don’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

The glare she got in response was stern, but the effect was all but negated by the warmth in his voice as he threatened, “Fine. Lemme put it to ya this way, sweetheart. If you do it again, I’m dumping your ass. For real.”

She waited until she’d stepped out and up onto the sidewalk before she turned around to say, “It’s so adorable when you act like you could live without me, lover,” before turning to walk through the front door, blowing him a kiss from over her shoulder.

As she crossed the lobby towards the elevator bank, her eyes caught on the Out of Service sign and she let out a groan. Despite her annoyance, Charlotte didn’t blink an eye before heading for the staircase, figuring it was only a minor inconvenience. Especially since, at her last appointment, the first thing she’d asked once her doctor had mentioned that she was good to start easing back into very light physical activity was if she was okay to take the stairs to her apartment, because the ancient elevators were constantly having issues and she knew that having the freedom to move around more meant nothing if she couldn’t get in and out of her damn apartment. While he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect, he assured her that she’d be fine so long as she took it slowly and carefully. Still, she knew even with the green light from her doctor, it was going to feel like a trek after having spent so long doing little more than traversing the path between her bed and her couch.

True to her expectations, by the time she’d gotten to the second floor, she was definitely more winded than she’d usually be and her entire body was beginning to take on that achy feel of being suddenly being forced to work. But neither of those things is what had her slumping against the wall with a white-knuckled grip on the handrail. No, that was brought on by the way the world had seemingly begun to spin around her, setting her completely off balance.

What could have been five minutes or five hours later, she chanced peeking an eye open, but the vibrant mosaic tile pattern of the stairs was still swirling and swimming about in front of her, causing her to slam it back closed and drop her head back – gently – against the wall. Frustrated that the only change in how she felt was the deep churning and roiling in her gut, she finally acknowledged that she wasn’t going to be making it up the rest of the way on her own and pulled her phone from her pocket to call Logan.

Without opening her eyes, she placed her finger over the fingerprint reader, waiting for the digital clicking sound that signaled it had been unlocked, but it never came. Steeling herself for the unsettling sensations that were about to wash over her, she once again peeled an eye open and pressed the power button to wake up the screen. A loud groan escaped her when the screen remained dark, reminding her that she had forgotten to charge it the night before.

Faced with the unsettling choice of either continuing on in spite of the vertigo – which seemed risky, even by her standards – or staying in her spot for who knows how long until the episode passed, Charlotte couldn’t hold back the sobs building in the back of her throat or the tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she slid down the wall to sit on the step. All she wanted, with a desperation she hadn’t felt since those first few weeks after he'd walked away the last time in L.A., was for Logan to wrap her in his arms. To whisper all of his sweet reassurances in her ear. To be the calm and steady force that centered her through the storm.

Almost as if her longing thoughts had conjured him, he was suddenly there, hands running gently over her arms and then brushing away her tears as he rattled off question after question, not leaving her space to actually answer one before moving on to the next. It was just as well, however, considering her addled mind couldn’t seem to make any sort of sense out of the words, choosing instead to latch onto the strained breathlessness with which they were uttered.

Wanting, or rather needing, to reassure him that, while she felt awful, she was wasn’t in mortal danger, she blindly reached out until her fingers brushed against the familiar, well-worn softness of his favorite denim shirt. As she ran her fingers across what she recognized as his chest, his free hand came up to tangle gently in her hair and she sank into the touch. A beat later, his forehead was resting against hers and she couldn’t have missed the shudder that ran through his body or the shaky exhale that passed his lips if she’d tried.

Charlotte’s fingers curled around the button-lined edge of shirt and she whispered, “It’s okay baby. I’m okay,” so softly she was surprised when she felt his answering scoff fan across her face, confirming that he had actually heard her.

Instead of a snarky retort or censuring lecture she was expecting to hear, the next words out of Logan’s mouth were simply, “You good if I pick you up?”

Her eyes shot open at the almost frigid indifference in his voice and the sight in front of her knocked the wind out of her like a punch to the gut. His brows were deeply furrowed and his lips were pursed together so tightly that they were barely visible. It was one thing to know that he was worried and upset – she’d felt it in his every tentative touch -- but it was something else entirely to see it.

Wanting nothing more than to ease some of his tension, she trailed her fingers up from his chest along the side of his neck and face, across his forehead until she could smooth them along the deep-set lines running between his eyebrows. It was a left-over habit from when she’d briefly moved into his loft in L.A., one that had never failed to relax him. This time, unfortunately, it didn’t have the same effect and her heart sunk just a little bit deeper into her stomach. Feeling defeated, she let her hand, along with her gaze, drop back down to her lap as she answered his question, “Yeah. I think the dizziness is mostly gone now. So long as we take it slow, I should be fine.”

Without hesitation, Logan pulled back enough to push himself up out of his crouch and it took everything she had not to whine at the loss. Within seconds, he was leaning back down to wrap one arm around her back while the other slid underneath her knees. Instinctively, Charlotte wrapped her free arm around his neck and as soon as she did, he was standing back up and tucking her against his chest, making sure to be mindful of both the strap of the sling across her back and the bulkiness of her cast. He spared her one glance with a raised eyebrow, but immediately averted his eyes when she assured him, “I’m good.”

Despite the way that he was cradling her so carefully in his arms as he carried her up the next two flights of stairs, with what seemed like no effort at all, it felt to her as if there was an entire canyon between them. Not once did he look down at her. Not once did he even twitch as if he was thinking of dropping a kiss to the top of her head. Not once did he open his mouth as if to say something to her. Even when she had to drop her head against his shoulder as a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, the heavy silence remained.

As soon as they were back inside the apartment, Logan settled her gently onto the couch then turned to grab his pillow and a blanket from the pile of bedding he made each morning when he folded the pull-out away. Wordlessly, he tucked the blanket tightly around her – just the way she needs to be able to sleep alone. As he was reaching up to place the pillow beneath her head, she caught his wrist in her hand, whispering his name beneath her breath. Rather than make eye contact with her, he simply shook his head once and slipped away from her grip.

Stung by his rejection, Charlotte didn’t try to stop him again as he left the room. Instead, she curled up into as tight of a ball as she could on her good side, letting the scent of him on the pillow and blanket take over her senses until she was slowly drifting off into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

By the time that she woke up, the living room was cast in complete darkness, save for the bright green LED light letting her know her phone was finished charging. Lotta good that does me now. She blinked a few times in an effort to get her eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting, but still could barely make out the outlines of the rest of the furniture surrounding her. Even still, she knew Logan wasn’t in the room with her: she could always feel his presence when they were in the same space and that feeling was noticeably absent as she slowly pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the couch.

After giving herself a couple of minutes to make sure she wasn’t going to be dizzy again, she got up and headed towards the kitchen, figuring that would be his most likely location. Sure enough, she found him there, perched on one of the oversized chairs that in no way matched the tiny, shitty-ass excuse for a dining table that he currently had his forearms resting on. He was staring at the wall in front of him so intently that he didn’t even seem to hear her enter the room. Or, at least, that's what she was choosing to believe.

With just a couple more steps, she was able to close the distance between them, allowing her the ability to wrap arms around him from behind. She never made it that far, however, because as soon as her palms made contact with his shoulders, he startled and tensed beneath her touch. She opened her mouth to apologize for scaring him, but he cut her off before she had the chance, seething quietly, “Don’t you dare pull that fucking shit again.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t just sneak out without a word and then not answer your damned phone for five hours and expect me to be okay with it!”

“Okay, one? I left you a note telling you where I went. Two? As you clearly have already figured out, my fucking phone was dead. I didn’t even realize it until I was on my way back up here!”

Standing up from the chair so fast that he nearly knocked it – and her – over, Logan whipped around to face her, eyes wild with fury. “So one irresponsibility is just supposed to excuse another?”

Charlotte gave up all pretense of trying to stay calm, throwing her hands up in the air as she shouted, “For fuck’s sake, Logan! You knew where I was! If you were that damned desperate to get ahold of me, why didn’t you just call Paul?”

“I did. He wasn’t answering his goddamn phone either! By the time he finally did pick up, it was over half an hour after he’d dropped you off.” While he’d started off yelling at her in a volume that rivaled her own, Logan had trailed of into little more than a whisper by the time he was done. And that cut her deeper than the loudest insults ever could.

Unsure of how to respond, Charlotte reached up to fiddle with his spark plug necklace. It was something that had become a somewhat-nervous habit for her when he’d given it to her back in L.A. and she’d picked it up again once she’d begun wearing it almost constantly after their reunion. That simple, unthinking motion ended up being the answer to her loss of words, however, when the cool weight of it in her hand, combined with all the emotions running rampant through the room, sparked the memory of how she’d come to possess it in the first place.

“Logan, baby.” She paused, waiting until he looked up from the floor to meet her gaze before continuing gently, “You remember what you told me when you gave this to me?”

He raised an eyebrow at her as if asking her where she was going with this abrupt subject change. When she didn’t give him an answer, he let out a harsh sigh before replying, “Not entirely. I remember it was before the Grapevine job. Something about it keeping you safe like it did for me?”

“Yeah, that was part of it. You also told me how you came to wear it, too. How you'd survived a crash that you probably shouldn’t have.”

Rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air, Logan sniped, “Okay … so? What's the point of this random-ass trip down memory lane?”

“You told me that you’d almost died. In a car accident. Right before we were about to go steal four very expensive sport cars. And we were going to steal them off a car hauler on the freeway, no less.” As if he had suddenly figured out where she was going with this, his eyes widened before narrowing on her. He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not gonna lie. As much as I was so touched that you were giving me something that meant so much to you? The story behind it fucking terrified me. Because if you – who had been driving so long and had so much skill at it – could wreck like that, what chance did I have at holding up my end of the bargain? Not to mention, just the idea of you getting hurt almost sent me into a tailspin. And I’m not so sure that that wasn’t your plan all along.”

“I – “

Walking over to wrap her arm around his neck, she kissed first his cheek and then his lips briefly and tenderly. When he didn’t tense up or pull away from her, she chanced nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. “I know, baby. You were just doing whatever you could think of to keep me safe. I understand that. And I understand that the result of me being a complete dumbass during that race scared the shit out of you. But I’m still here. I’m still alive. And today’s episode notwithstanding, I’ve been feeling really good. So this whole, hovering-over-me thing? The it’s-too-dangerous-out-there-thing you’ve been doing? It’s smothering me and I … I just can’t do it. It took me far too long to escape it with Wheeler. Far too long to find the strength to realize that it was okay – more than okay – to be who I wanted to be regardless of whether the people in my life accepted it. So … as much as I hate worrying you, I cannot go back to that old, boring version of myself, the one that never really felt like me, just because it's safer.”

Logan inhaled sharply and hands tightened ever so slightly where they had been resting on her hips since she'd tucked herself into him. A couple long beats passed before he finally muttered, “You know, you seemed to have skipped over the most important part of that story, though.”

Face scrunched up, she asked, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. That wasn’t just me giving you a good luck token. That was me trying to tell you not only to make sure you’re always in control, but also to make sure you learn from life's lessons.”

“I know.”

“Do you, though?”

Taken aback by Logan’s abrasiveness, Charlotte stumbled back a step, only to be met by narrowed eyes boring into her. “I ... I … I do.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it from where I’m standing.”

“Logan – “

“Do you even realize how fucking stupid that stunt you pulled today was? What if that episode had hit when you were out there on the streets somewhere? All alone?”

Even though she knew his point was valid, Charlotte couldn’t bite back her derisive scoff. “First of all, I was literally by myself when it happened, so yeah, I have a decent idea.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Continuing on as if she hadn’t heard his outburst, she added heatedly, “Second, the only time I was by myself today was on the elevator ride down to the lobby, the walk from my cab to Paul’s storage unit and back here in the stairwell. It’s not like I was fucking gallivanting around the whole goddamn city.”

“For fuck’s sake! It’s not – you know what? Just forget it.” Throwing his hands up, Logan turned to storm out of the room.

“Sure. Just ru … run away. It’s – “ Tears that she refused to let fall clogged her throat and she pressed her lips together in an attempt to gather her composure. She realized, however, that the damage had been done, her stuttering robbing her words of their intended venom, so she pressed on with a watery whisper, “It’s what you do best.”

Practically freezing mid-step, he pivoted back around to face her, hands scrubbing at his face. “Damn it, Char. I’m not running away.” Shoulders falling when she rolled her eyes at him, he quickly closed the distance between them to lace their fingers together and insisted, “I’m not.”

“Then why – “

Without warning, Logan crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that left her short of breath when he finally pulled back just far enough to murmur, “’Cause you refuse to acknowledge how fucking reckless you’ve been and it is frustrating the ever livin’ shit outta me. And it just felt like it was better to walk away than say something I’d regret. Something just to hurt you. I don’t want … I can’t hurt you like that.”

Charlotte pulled back a little bit further to meet him square in the eye. “Future reference? Words are no big deal. You walking away? That’s the shit I can’t handle.”

Tangling his free hand in the hair at the base of her head, he gently pulled her face back so he could feather another kiss across her lips before replying, “Noted.” Another barely-there kiss. “Thing I can’t handle?” A slight tug of her bottom lip between his teeth that pulled a sharp gasp from her. “You not takin’ this shit seriously.”

This time, instead of leaning in again, Logan pulled pack just a bit further. She tried chasing after him, but he maintained their separation until she dropped her head back with a groan.

“You even listenin’ to me?”

“Um … yes?”

“Charlotte.”

“Hey!” She tried to glare at him, but instead ended up giggling, “You were the one distracting me!” When he leaned back in for another kiss, Charlotte dipped back as far as she could. “See! You’re doin’ it again!”

“Answer the question and I’ll stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?”

Shaking his head at her with a familiar and fond smile tugging the corners of his mouth upward, he chuckled, “Okay … Answer the question or I’ll stop.” As if to emphasize his point, he pulled his hand out of hers and untangled his other from her hair to place them both on her hips to keep her planted to her spot when he took a step backwards.

Making sure to soften her words with a smile, Charlotte grumbled, “Ugh. Fine. If you’re gonna be so cruel about it … “ A light pinch pulled another giggle from her. “Okay. Okay. Yes, I heard you.”

“And?”

“And … I get it.” The incredulous look he gave her almost had her flinching. “Look, I get that I haven’t been the most … appreciative for the way that you’ve been taking care of me. And I get that I can’t go back to ‘normal’ just because I want to.”

“Char – “

“Hold up! I’m not finished!” Stopping to heave a frustrated sigh, she continued, “I’m going to do better from here on out. I’m gonna take it easy until the doctors clear me. I’ll do a better job of listening to my body when it starts telling me to take a break. And I’ll stop fighting you so much about it.”

“Not stop all the way, huh?”

“I think we both know me better than that.”

Pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose, he snickered, “Okay, that’s fair. That mean we’re done with this sneaking-out shit, then?”

Raising an eyebrow defiantly, she fired back, “Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you done with all your helicopter shit? Because if you are? Then yes. I’m done sneaking out.”

Logan studied her face with an inscrutable expression on his own for what felt like hours before nodding his head once. “Fine. I’ll chill out so long as you behave.”

Wrapping her arm around his neck with a smile, she told him, “I’m so glad we got that settled. I hate fighting with you.”

“God, me too. Are you as exhausted as I am?”

Charlotte snorted as she dropped her head against his chest. “Oh, my god. You have no idea.”

“Why don’t we call it a night, then?”

The hopefulness in Logan’s voice almost made her snicker, but she managed to smother it by placing a kiss to a spot right above his heart. “That sounds like a great idea, so long as we go together tonight.

The words were barely out of her mouth before he was nodding eagerly and answering, “Done.”

A/N #2: Just in case any one is wondering (since I haven’t written about Paul and Charlotte’s friendship nearly as much as I have wanted to) and also because I just really want to share this tidbit behind Charlotte’s nickname for Paul. When the two of them first started to become friends, the way Paul was always calling her “sweetheart” drove her absolutely crazy for reasons I may actually write about at some point? lol so she decided to retaliate by calling him “lover.” Unfortunately for her, however he didn’t mind, so it obviously didn’t have the desired effect. Eventually, it became a habit of affection and each of their nicknames stuck. Thank you for indulging me in this moment of ridiculousness

Perma Tags: @burnsoslow​ @mvalentine​ @anotherbeingsworld​ @adiehardfan​

Logan Tags: @brightpinkpeppercorn

[tricewithaz]

Don't be shy give us your short Zoya and tall Nikolai hcs

You mean like how she likes to sit om the table so she can at least look somewhere close to his eyes? Cause I have a few

My favourite one being Nikolai suddenly hitting a massive growth spurt at like, 17 and not being aware of his size now but everyone around him is like what the fuck???? Poor boy gets sick for two days and suddenly hes a giant and keeps on hitting doors and missing seats cause hes not used to this. He was already tall as a kid, taller than most, but for some reason this still comes as a surprise. When he sees Vasily for the first time after that his soul DROPS.

Zoya on the other hand really hoped to grow tall, her mom was tall, her aunt was relatively tall too. Not super tall like some fjerdan girls but poor girl hoped to reach 165 😔. And then she didn't. Not like it affected her spectacular looks or her intimidating ways, in fact if anything having such a small person look at you like shes going to kill you in less than a second is scarier when said tiny person can very easily cut your balls off with a nail from where shes standing. But being the tiny general to a gigantic king looks ridiculous. Imagine how it looks in paintings and photographies. She always has to be standing and quite honestly Zoya is not a model or a muse and she normally wears heels. This is not good. Andthe composition is always wacky. His legs are too long. She doesnt reach his shoulder. Its a hazard.

Oh, yeah, Nikolais legs are looooooong and he never knows where to put them 😔Not like hes straight anyways but if hes not in a meeting or an event, he just doesnt sit right. His legs are always all over the place, all the time. Its kind of uncomfortable when it comes to carriages. When getting clothes tailored for him the tailors arw always surprised and need to get more measuring tape and fabric. Not too much, but enough that its inconvenient.

There will definetely come a time when Zoya wears Nikolai's shirt. It's hUGE. The collar falls down her shoulder and the hem reaches to her knees. He finds it incredibly attractive. Its a mix of things, the fact that its rare to see Zoya not all put together, the fact that shes tiny, the fact that thats HIS shirt shes wearing. She also uses his wool jumpers sometimes, theyre big and cozy enough to warm her up.

Another one of my favourite ones is that he doesnt fit in her bed 😶. Its not.... small..... like its definetely a bit too big for her, which makes it comfortable.... but its not big enough for him. The hook up at her place sometimes and then Nikolai has to sleep in the weirdest positions cause his feet go over the end of it 😔😔😔 On the other hand Zoya loves sleeping into the afternoon at Nikolai's cause its HUUUUGE.

She also hides behind him when its inconvenient for her to see someone 💀💀 hes huge and shes tiny so it works perfectly 💀💀💀💀

help thats a lot lmao

[squidlyskeet]

Joy Ride -.005

Pairing: StreetRacer!Bakugou x Fem!reader

Genre: TokyoDrift!au, Noquirks!au

Status: Ongoing

TW: Violence, Blood, firearms, eventual nsfw, 18+, mentions of anxiety and OCD disorders, grand theft auto, gang activity, eventual soft yandere Bakugou.

Summary:

It started with a simple question. “What do you say Y/n? You coming?”

After the sudden death of her mother, Y/n is sent to live with her estranged aunt who made a home in Tokyo, Japan. Weary of what this new adventure might mean for her future, Y/n lets loose for her first night there, but how was Y/n supposed to know it would lead to a car chase? A car chase in the passenger seat of a very angry, very hot, street racer’s super car?

A/n: BOLD ITALICS Means the words are spoken in Japanese. —something special for the holidays my loves- -Squidlyskeet✌🏻

 💥 Bakugou’s POV💥

         I turned the music up a little, hoping Y/n would be too distracted with trying to read the map and the heavy bass to notice my light panic. Sure I had done this more times than I could count, but I hadn’t had a navigator in two years. I forgot what it was like to hold another person's life in your hands, and while on a normal occasion I wouldn’t care, but this was Mirio’s niece.

      By no means was I afraid of the man, but I took his threat seriously. I’ve watched those same hands he pointed at me with, squeeze the life out of more people than I could keep track of. Not that I wouldn’t put up one hell of a fight. There was a reason I was a squad leader, and it wasn’t because I pussy footed around direct orders from the Yakuza.

    The cops on my tail were really just a minor inconvenience. I could get away with ease once we got off this wide open straight stretch. What I was really worried about was if they dispatched a helicopter, that would prove to be just a little more difficult.

  Still nothing I couldn’t get away from though. If I didn’t have a passenger.

    I glanced over at her, her features twisted in panic and her hands shaking. She reminded me of a skittish rabbit, her nerves on full display since the moment I gripped her arm to ask her who she was on top of the parking deck, and somehow always seeming like she was on the verge of bolting.

    I’d noticed that she really came out of her shell though when I pissed her off. Her anger or irritation getting the better of her anxious tendencies when I say something rude, or even better something completely devoid of any emotion. It was like playing cat and mouse for the entire race, she’d get nervous I’d say something dickish, and then she would pop off at the mouth, lighting my amusement up like a firework show. I had no idea what possessed me to call her babygirl, and even if she didn’t understand it, I couldn’t help but at least try to make her feel a little better.

   Besides I didn’t need her running home to tell Mirio that all I did was scream at her, or even worse, some girly shit like make her cry.

     I could see how upset she got at some of the things I said, reverting back to her quiet nature and avoiding me even though we were in a cramped space. Some small part of me felt bad, especially after I said the you don’t matter thing, but most of me just wanted to get this over with so she wasn’t my responsibility anymore. Mirio would have to make good on his promise before I apologized, so I settled on just backing off.

     I threw another quick glance at her, checking for the thousandth time that the harness was still in place around her torso. I'd never been more relieved when I took off after our little spat at the west wall, and that like always Kirishima had followed. He was coming to make sure I was okay under Izuku's orders, I was never really upset, just a little blindsided that she ended up being Mirio’s girlfriends niece, and that I, of all people had to take her in my car.

  Slightly panicked too, because the harness in my car was built for a person of mine and Kirishima's stature. Not someone as short and dainty as Y/n. Luckily though, Kirishima had one in his car that was adjustable and would fit around her perfectly.

   It wasn’t my own though, and my trust that thing would stay strapped around her body was a constant nagging in the back of my head.

     I was startled from my overthinking when Y/n’s gentle voice spoke up from beside me. I found myself turning down the volume of the radio to hear her better.

  “Alright I think I’ve got it,” She started, tracing a route on the map with her fingers. “Okay so I know it’s probably not the best move to stay on this road for too much longer, we are way out in the open. In about five miles is an exit, from there we can wave our way around buildings and cars to hopefully lose them. There is a back road -shit I can’t pronounce that- Uhg where is the address. Tagara I think? Well either way, the town has a road, it looks windy and dangerous but it leads almost all the way back to Tokyo.”

   I felt my eyebrows shoot up in surprise, her tatic wasn’t half bad. I’d used escape routes just like that on missions from the Yakuza time and time again. It was basic, but it worked.

   “Tch. That’s your only plan?” My response was short, like it had been for most of the ride, it was time to get down to business. Hurting her feelings or not, I had to focus so I didn’t get us arrested, or worse kill us both.

  “I don’t see you coming up with any plans Bakugou, so take it or leave it.” She snapped back, her mouth gritting in anger.

  I had to turn to hide the smirk forming on my own mouth.

  “Ground zero, come in.” Deku’s voice suddenly boomed over the comms device we all kept in our cars.

  I rolled my eyes. Even though I was the leader of the squad, the damn nerd always micromanaged situations.

  “Ground zero on the move, race crashers hot on my tail. Headed back to homebase. What’s your status, Deku.” I picked up the comm and kept my reply curt and vague, in case they picked up our encrypted channel.

 “Deku and Uravity on the move, status clear and headed to homebase.” Their code names and status has me releasing a breath of relief.

   A squad leaders job was never done, at least not until his entire squad was safe. They got on my last fucking nerve most days, but I’d gladly put myself in the line of fire to make sure they got to see the next days sun rise.

  “West side Riders, what’s your status.” I spoke into the comm again.

 “Cellophane, clear and headed home.” Sero’s excited voice replied next.

  “Icyhot, already home.” Disappointed, but not surprised that Shoto went home right after his race.

 “Earphone Jack and Pinky, stopped for drinks.” Jirou’s velvet voice spoke up with Mina giggling in the background.

“Ayyyoo, Chargebolt and Mindjack, clear and straight cruzin’.” Jesus what dumbasses.

“Red riot on the move, race crashers on my six, on a detour to homebase.” Kirishima’s voice sounded like he was laughing with the windows down. While I’d make sure to check on him later, I wasn’t worried about it.

  The man drove like a bat out of hell, and he wasn’t afraid to prove it.

 “I’m assuming that was the squad, is everyone okay?” Y/n asked, her e/c eyes shining in worry. As I looked over to her.

 “They’re fine. Worry about us. Where is this exit?” I asked, pushing my shifter into the highest speed it would go. I was trying to gain enough speed on the straight stretch to put some distance between us and the annoying leeches, whooping there sirens and flashing their lights like a screaming beacon.

  “It looks like it’s coming up-.” Her voice cut off as I spotted it, jerking the car to the side and setting myself up for a drift around the off ramp.

  “A little warning next time would be freaking good.” She yelled as I whipped the car around the other end of the off ramp, shifting to gain some speed again.

   It looked like we threw off the ground troops, at least for a second. Until I heard Y/n’s surprised gasp.

 “Holy shit Bakugou. Is that a fucking helicopter?” She was leaning against the door, face pointed skyward trying to get a better look.

  “Shit. Shit. Y/n sit back. Don’t let them shine the spotlight in your face,” I looked around at my surroundings, not much traffic but a densely urban area. I needed cover. “Hold on. And I mean it this time. Keep your face out of the window, but watch for race crash- cops on the ground. If you see anything at all, speak up.” I watched as her face melted from pure panic to determination.

   She gave me an adorable single nod of her head. Shit. Not adorable, what the hell am I thinking. Not right now Bakugou.

  “I’ve got your back Bakugou.” She said, turning away and starting her appointed job of watching our surroundings.

    The shock I felt at her statement flustered me for a second, but with no time to process it, it just turned to irritation that I actually needed her assistance with something.

    I took a deep breath, and hyper focused on the road in front of me. The helicopter hadn’t pinpointed its spotlight on us yet and I swerved, slowed, and sped up to try and stay out of it.

   I spotted an overhead highway in front of us, I changed direction, heading toward it.

    “Two cops coming from the right. Three more closing the gap behind us.” Y/n yelled over to me, head cranked behind us.

   “Face forward. This was the part where you hold on.” My thumb slammed on the red button on my steering wheel, shooting the car into what felt like hyper speed. I needed speed and I needed it now.

   The Nitrous did its job, as flames shot from the pipes under the car. The screaming of the engine caused me to cringe a little. I’d have to show her a little love after this, especially if this was gonna go how I thought.

  “Jesus, this is fast.” Y/n voice was barely Audible but I chanced a look at her, and the smile that split her face warmed my chest for an instant before I shoved it down. I knew that look, I had that same expression daily. The pure happiness of losing yourself in the speed.

  The look was a mistake.

 When I looked back at the road we were approaching a road block. Sloppily put together, with police cars and fencing put up temporarily in an effort to try and wrap them around my tires. This wasn’t going go well, and if I had the ability to apologize I’d probably do it right now. At the very least to Y/n.

  “On the left! On the left!” Y/n yelled, trying to get my attention. When I looked, I saw a weak spot in the block. It was fencing, but not wide enough for my car to fit through. Oooo she was gonna get scratched, but it was either that or practically hand us over to the authorities.

   I let my foot off the brake and accelerated again heading to the spot she pointed out. I forced myself to breathe as we made contact, but something was off. I was a little too far to the right.

    As we pushed through the block, we spun out. The car circled violently, and whipped both of our bodies around the cab. Me against the door and her against my side. I kept my hold on the steering wheel and used all the strength I had in my abdomen to keep myself up, trying to make sure she hit me instead of the center console.

    The dizzying feeling of spinning finally came to a stop and I opened my eyes, I was afraid we’d roll the car but by some miracle we stayed on all four tires. The car only spun out of control for a minute, thankfully my death grip on the steering wheel kept the car upright.

   “What are you doing Bakugou? Don’t just sit there,” Y/n’s panicked voice broke me out of my daze, and slapped my arm. “FUCKING GO. GO,GO.” The fear in her tone reaching a crescendo snapped me back to action.

   Without missing a beat I started the car again, slammed it into gear and took off. Spinning around and heading in the direction of the road she picked for us to make our way home. The chase wasn’t over yet though.

  With our minor inconvenience, the helicopter had its  spot light on us.

  “I'll get us out of this. I won’t lose.” I said, more to myself than to her and still reeling from my mistake. I had to make sure she got out of this unscathed. If for nothing else than to save my own ass.

   The cops were getting agitated, I could tell that much, they hated playing this game because they hardly ever won. Tonight would be no different.

  I knew the moment the cops got too far behind to try and keep up that we'd lost the ground patrol, all I had to do was come up with a plan and we’d lose that helicopter too. They were probably keeping updates on us, but I kicked my car's ass into high gear. Their slow cruisers would never keep up, and they knew that. They probably had a whole squad on the other side of the small town, waiting to intercept us. Now all that was left to do was get out from under the choppers spotlight and we were home free.

   My movements were jerky and rushed, and I was hyper aware that my form was sloppy with the nerves of trying to get Y/n out of here.

  Just when I thought we would have to give up, after pulling out all the stops and ducks I had up my sleeve to get away, Y/n yelled at me again.

  “Over there!!! Over there!! On your left, it’s another parking garage. They can’t track us if they can’t see us right?” She exclaimed, her rushed words putting a sense of urgency on her normally gentle tone.

  I nodded my head, to focused on driving to think out a response and I swerved the car in the direction of the parking garage.

  “The spotlights off us, they weren’t expecting you to turn so hard. They can’t find us.” Her hands clapped together in excitement, jostling her tiny frame under the eight point harness.

   Even if I’d never admit it, this actually had me on the edge of my seat, and as we pushed our way to the parking garage with no signs of being followed, nostalgia swept over me.

    I still remember my first police chase, my shop leader at the wheel and my adrenaline running on high as he maneuvered away from a helicopter just like that one.

   I’d never tell her, but that was my first time navigating too, and she was doing far better than I ever did. At the very least she was directing me to helpful routes and advantageous hiding spots.

  I entered the garage, speeding past parked cars and barreling sideways when sharp turns came up. I finally got to the top level, thankful a roof was still over our heads so the chopper couldn’t find us again. I whipped it into a parking space next to a Bugatti and a Lamborghini. My Mazda fit in perfectly next to them, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

   I cut the engine, and shut off the lights. The harness came off next, and with the pressure relief from my shoulders had me sinking into the seat, and running my hands through my hair.

  I heard metal clinking, and turned to watch Y/n as her small hands struggled to get the buckle unlatched to get out of her own harness.

    Without saying a word I leaned across the console and swatted her hands away.

  “Hey! What are you-.” I grabbed the latch and removed the buckles one by one with expert precision. Throwing them behind her as her relaxing muscles mirrored my own and sank into her seat. With her body sinking into the seat, the next and last latch caused my fingers to lightly brush against the soft S/C skin of her exposed stomach.

    I threw the buckle behind her, ignoring her blush and facing forward trying to ignore it like I didn’t even notice it happened.

  “That was wild,” She started, at first my response was anger, was she really thinking that hard about one simple touch? But I quickly hid the temper as she continued. “That was so crazy Bakugou. Thank you so much for bringing me with you, I know this was probably a one time thing so I won’t ask you again to take me with you, but holy freaking cow. This is the most fun I’ve had -like ever. You’re such a good driver.” She babbled, and I put together that she rambled when she was nervous.

   I wanted to stop her, but the pride swelling in my chest that she was impressed with my driving kept my mouth locked shut.

   I waited for more praise as she ran her hands through her silky H/L H/C hair, it shone in the harsh LEDs of the parking garage, the light filtering through my tinted windows making it look like the stands were twinkling as they fell back into place. I felt my neck heat when I looked back to her face only to find her biting her lip in contemplation.

  I averted my eyes, trying not to let the action affect me. She was just some girl, Bakugou. Get your head out of your ass. Women suck. You don’t need her.

  “I wonder if someone else might let me navigate for them,” My eyes -like a magnet- snapped back to her, the thought of her being a passenger for anyone else not sitting right with me. “Maybe Amajiki? He didn’t have one and he seemed nice enough and he drove really well too, he kept up with Mirio the whole way here.”  She said.

  I took a second to remember the way the shy boy drove, he was -like she said- a really good driver, but that didn’t make it safe. I’ve raced the quiet guy enough to know that he didn’t give a shit about his own life or his cars well being.

 He was on his third body replacement, just this year.

  I spoke up for the first time since parking the car.

  “No.” My blunt tone coming out more hostile than intended.

  “What do you mean no? You don’t have the right to tell me who I can and can’t navigate for. If anyone does it’s Noel and Mirio. And even then I’m still an adult and I can make my own choices.” She snapped back without missing a beat.

  I had to hide the smirk forming on my face, she was mad yes, but she sounded like a barking puppy.

  “An adult huh? And how old are you then, miss ’I can make my own choices’?” I slid the question in, forcing myself not to acknowledge the reasoning behind asking.

 “I’m eighteen. Almost nineteen, thank you very much mister ‘my ego is to big to fit two people in this car.’” She retorted, folding her arms across her chest.

 I took note of her age before replying.

   “They won’t let you either, that guy has a death wish.” I replied, hoping she’d take my command as final.

“Fine then, I’ll ask Keigo or Dabi.”

“Again, no. They would try to hit on you, and that wouldn’t end well with Mirio.” I left the part out that it wouldn’t end well with me either.

   I could see her innocence, and in a life like mine, there wasn’t much of that to go around. Even if I wouldn’t allow myself to think too hard about it, I wanted to preserve that.

 “Uhg. Kirishima then?”

 “He’d never let you, that passenger seat of his is saved for someone.” I shot back.

  “Jesus you’re infuriating. Has anyone ever told you that?” She growled out, and this time I couldn’t hold back the genuine laugh that escaped my lips.

 “Oh great, now you’re laughing at me.” She rolled her eyes and sat back in a huff.

 “Jerk.” She muttered under her breath.

 “Brat.” I shot back, amused she was talking to me like this.

“You don’t have an intimidating bone in your body do you?” I said, after my laughter died down.

     Our back and forth banter was cut off, when a phone started sounding off a familiar ringtone. I didn’t think it was coming from mine, and was right when Y/n lifted her butt off the seat to pull her phone from her back pocket.

  “Jesus, eleven missed calls? Uhg, I’m screwed,” she took a deep breath before answering. “Hello?”

  I could only hear her end of the conversation as she explained what happened to a feminine voice from the other end of the line.

    I reached across her again, my hand curling around the handle of the glove box trying to get my own phone from inside. I opened it a little, looking inside, only to slam it shut again without the desired item.

  I peeked over to Y/n, trying to gage her for a reaction. She seemed absorbed in her conversation with her aunt -I presumed- and I sighed in relief. She didn’t notice the glinting barrel of the gun peeking from the shadows in the glove box.

   I completely forgot it was there, not used to having someone in the car to see such things. I’d have to move it so that way next time I could easily reach it without her noticing it-

   What am I thinking? She isn’t going to be in this car again, so it didn’t fucking matter where I kept the gun.

    I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard my name brought up in her conversation.

 “..Oh my god Noel you should have seen it! We were going to win! I mean before the feds showed up and ruined my fun. But the chase was just as exciting, and Bakugou knew exactly what to do- what?” She paused, audibly cut off as Noels voice was heard on the other end of the line.

   “Where are we? Oh, well, I don’t know, hold on,” She turned to me, a question in her eyes as I answered her. “Bakugou said some name I can’t pronounce- oh he wants to talk to him? Okay here you go.”

   She held the phone out to me, and my bad mood returned when I knew who would be on the other end of the line.

  “What?” I gritted out, after jerking the phone from her hand.

  “Speak Japanese so she doesn’t understand.” Mirio’s usually carefree voice, mirrored the menacing tone he used when he threatened me.

   Big fucking oaf thinks he can intimidate me.

 “What do you want, Mirio.” I asked, the anger in my chest building.

 “I’m coming to get her, and then the North side, you, and I have a hot date with a very angry boss.” He said, his tone condescending.

 “The fuck‘s got His panties in a bunch today? And it’s fine, I’ll bring her back, where does she live?” I asked, secretly enjoying having someone in my passenger seat again. It would make the drive back a little more bearable.

   If she didn’t irritate me that is.

  “She lives with her aunt, you know where it’s at right?” He didn’t didn’t give an exact location, but I could understand and confirmed I knew where it was.

  It was an unspoken rule that the Rider’s of all sides significant others were protected at all costs. Never giving exact locations, or full names. Especially not over the phone in case they were tapped. They were a big weak spot for our entire community, and it was the only defense we had to keep them out of the hands of the Yakuza.

   Something, I failed to do.

 I shook the thought from my head, focusing back on the conversation when he spoke again.

  “Oh and Ground Zero? Her Aunt has been a mess and worried sick about her. I’m beating your ass for putting her in danger.” I unconsciously grit my teeth at his declaration, knowing he wouldn’t do shit in front of the girls.

  Another unspoken rule.

  No violence in front of the families.

 “You can fucking try, you overgrown bastard.” My voice got deeper with anger, before hanging up the phone.

    If he did try something like that in front of Y/n, I’d beat his ass twice as hard. He knew the rules.

 “Is everything okay?” Y/n spoke from beside me, eyes wide and shining with worry once again.

  I wished she’d stop, I didn’t want her to care about what I was feeling.

 “It’s fine, buckle back up. We’ve been sitting here long enough, and I gotta get you home.” She followed my order almost immediately.

   I noticed the bags under her eyes and looked at the time.

  It was two thirty in the morning, and my night was far from over. I could already feel my eyes heavy with the lack of sleep and deduced that she must be feeling the same way.

   I started the car again, once she was buckled in. Her head laid against the top of the seat, and I noticed the difference in our heights, even just sitting. Her head was still a half of a foot away from the headrest, while the top of my head sat two inches above the top.

  She turned her head, still lazily thrown back against the seat.

  “Can I play some music?” She asked lightly, her voice unsure.

    I was about to snap my usually ‘no’ at her question, but I looked at her again. She was tired, that much was obvious. After tonight though, I was getting too tired to put up all my defenses and just gave in without an argument.

  “What’s your passcode.” I asked, referring to her phone still in my hand. Her look of shock was quickly replaced with a response as I opened her phone and went to settings.

    I went to the settings on my car too, fiddling with it until her phone was successfully connected to the Bluetooth.

   “If it’s shit, I’m shutting it off.” Was my only response, before chucking her phone back into her lap.

   “Thanks..” Her tone was sleepy as she messed with her phone before deciding on a song and closing it, turning her head to look out the window.

   A slow deep bass filtered through speakers, an eerie woman’s voice started singing and I looked at her.

   “What is this shit?” I scoffed.

 “Sorry, I forgot you might not be familiar with Lana Del Rey, I’ll change it.” She picked up her phone again.

  I huffed. Why in the hell was I letting her do this?

  “It’s fine. Just…pick something better for the next one.” I avoided looking at her while I said it.

  I reversed out of the parking spot and tried to keep my movements as smooth as possible, trying not to disturb her relaxed position in my passenger seat.

  I scolded myself again, I shouldn’t care about how comfortable she was.

     My resolve hardened further as I finally exited the parking garage and slipped past the rest of the town. Following the curvy road she pointed out to me on the map.

   The gentle sways of the road must have been lulling her to sleep, when I looked at her her lids blinked slowly and her head was falling to the side.

   “You know I just got off the plane from the US this morning?” She seemed like she was talking more to herself than to me, but I answered anyway.

  “Welcome to Japan.”

   He giggled, the sound filling the atmosphere in the car with a tinkling sound and lightness. I cursed myself for the warm feeling in my chest again and pressed the gas pedal a little harder.

  “Hey Bakugou?” The sound of my name coming from her lips in her sleepy state had me fighting to not show a reaction.

  “What.” I replied, my voice darker from my own internal battle.

   I couldn’t wait to get her home and hopefully never see her again. That way I could shove these confusing feelings to the back of my head and never revisit them, for the rest of my life.

  “Can I take a nap?” She was going to fall asleep anyways, and my irritation grew further that she thought she needed permission from me to literally sleep.

 “Tch. Whatever, brat.”

  It wasn’t long before her heavy eyelids drifted closed and she slipped away in a peaceful sleep.

   I wanted to jerk the car around and make sure she had the worst sleep of her life but couldn’t bring myself to do it as I looked over at her small form, curled into herself in my seat, head resting against the door.

  Instead I reached behind her seat, pulling out one of my hoodies. I draped it over her as best I could and was surprised to find it was big enough to cover her like a blanket.

  It was no surprise, as she was adorably tiny compared to me.

  No. Not adorable.

  I growled at my own frustration, feelings mixing with the deep slow bass of her music.

  I picked up the comms device, keeping my voice quiet.

 “Ground Zero to squad, status clear and headed to homebase.”

    I slammed it back on its hook, looking at the time and counting the minutes until we arrived at her aunt Noels.

  My body relaxing, as my mind fought to ignore the peaceful atmosphere in the car.

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