#like yeah man sure sure red tornado is there too but i fucking hate how he looks and its not the same it will never be the same

[kakusboyfriend]

Copperhead: so like...

Copperhead: out of curiosity. Why'd you become a villain. You seem too nice for this kinda thing.

Orchard: after my teammates murdered my fiancee right in front of me I guess I lost the will to fight on their side.

Copperhead:

Orchard: out of curiosity as well, why did you?

Copperhead: I. I wanted money I guess.

[kiridarling]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

[thefanficmonster]

You Call It A Mess, We Call It Baking

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Tons of fluff

Summary: A friendly argument via Discord leads to a baking session. Said baking session leads to a kitchen looking like it was the victim of a tornado. The lesson here is: don’t leave Corpse and Y/N in the kitchen together.

Requested by Anon, thank you so much for your request, hope I captured what you wanted well and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Corpse’s POV

I’ve been sitting in a Discord call with Y/N for about three years now, keeping her company as she’s editing some footage Sean sent her earlier. In the meantime, I’m reviewing the recently submitted stories by my viewers, reading some lines I find funny or downright terrifying to her.

“When I went in the kitchen to check on the cake, it was already out of the oven, a sticky note next to it on the counter that read: ‘smells nice’. My blood ran cold.“ I read the eerie sentence that is suggesting one of my most frightening scenarios - a stalker getting inside your house. I get chills just imagining what was probably going on in the sender’s head when they saw that.

“Jeez, it’s been so long since I’ve cooked something other than omelet.“ I hear Y/N reply absentmindedly, completely neglecting the fear factor of what’s going on in the story.

“Good job missing the point.” I chuckle, my eyes continuing to scan the email until my brain actually comprehends what she said, “Wait, you mean to tell me you have baked anything ever?! No offense, Y/N, but I was honestly doubting your ability to make an omelet as well. In all the years we’ve been friends I can’t remember you ever not saying ‘I hade takeout’ when I asked you what you had for dinner.” 

The scoff that comes through my headphones is the most adorable thing ever. She’s one to easily take a joke and never get offended by anything, but I know how heated she can get with her sarcasm. If I’m being honest, I’m always here for it. 

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Corpsy. A girl’s gotta have some aces up her sleeve.“ I can just imagine the narrowing of here eyes and the tilting of her head as she says that. She has a very specific way of expressing her thoughts. When we first met I accidentally made the comparison to one of those children’s books that have pictures, stories and small buttons for audio. That comparison has stuck with me and I look back at it very often. To fully catch her point, you don’t just listen to her. No, no, no. You focus on every change in her face and body. The way she looks away during certain parts of her speech, the way her voice plays with several different tones at once. Her posture while speaking. Just like those books - you don’t just listen to the audio, you look at the pictures and read the text.

“Well you know how much I like playing poker, why don’t you come over and throw those aces down.“ The last thing you should ever give Y/N is a challenge. She won’t only homerun it, but will never let you forget it either. When we met she was a girl with self esteem in the negatives, so seeing her brag about her achievements to me always brings me joy.

The details I’ve listed are pretty in-depth, aren’t they? That’s because I don’t want to let anything slip when it comes to her. This realization hit me early in our friendship and it was only like two years in that I finally connected the dots - this investment in her of mine was not simple nor platonic. Come to think of it, I reckon it never was.

“No way, I’m not changing out of my pajamas just to come to your house.” She laughs, once again making me picture her full body reaction to her statement.

I smirk, knowing I’m about to bring out my main weapon, “Oh come on, I’ve seen you in pajamas countless times. You can just admit you don’t wanna embarrass yourself. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

I can sense her fuming even though she’s like two miles away. “I’ll be there in 15.”

She hangs up before getting the chance to hear me lose control of the laughter I’ve been suppressing. 

Man, I love this girl.

Y/N’s POV 

“It’s on.“ I say as soon as the door in front of me swings open to reveal the smug smirking face of my bestfriend. The foundation of my tough, unbothered act is shaken up by the outburst of butterflies in my stomach which occurs every time I see him. I can never look at this man and not turn at least a little red in the cheeks. 

It’s been long since I self-diagnosed with the malicious ‘falling for someone who would never reciprocate my feelings’ illness. I’ve been living with it for a while. What medication do I take? Dating other guys. One bad relationship after another, scolding myself that every one of them has been a desperate attempt to get him to change his gaze on me from ‘best friend’ to something more. Hell, I don’t even know how to define that ‘something more’. I once even tried to admit my feelings, but I was so vague and so incoherent that I didn’t understand myself, so how was he supposed to grasp my downright sad excuse of a confession. 

“No ‘hello’, no nothing?“ He moves aside to let me in. I walk right past him with a sassy flip of my hair to mask the nervousness of being aware that his eyes were on me, “Rude.“ He murmured with an obvious smile in his tone.

He looks as cute as ever, black sweatpants and a black tee, hair messy as though he has just rolled out of bed. I can say with the upmost certainty that he’s the only one who can pull of that hairstyle.

I hide mine as I throw on the apron that’s hanging by his fridge, ready to take over his kitchen and put those aces of mine to use. I can’t help but furrow my brows when I see him enter the kitchen behind me and lean against the counter. That’s when I notice the counter is lined with all the ingredients I’ll need for the cake I had in mind. 

“OK, what do we do first?“ he claps his hands together, straightening his posture as he gives me a expectant look.

It takes all my brain cells to prevent me from freezing up completely. I’m not usually like this, mind you, I’m a lot better at keeping what’s going on inside my head camouflaged. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I don’t have much time to dwell on that. If I do, he’ll pick up on it right away.

“Um, we are not gonna do anything. I will be here baking, and you will remain outside the kitchen until I’m done. If you need something, ask and I’ll bring it to you. I can’t have you sabotaging my project, impostor.” I narrow my eyes at him like he’s the most dangerous of threats. And he is, for my mental sanity.

He fakes a hurt expression, clearly fighting to the best of his ability to hide how much he’s enjoying messing with me. “We’ve known each other for five years, Y/N. Don’t you trust me?”

I lean over the counter to where we’re about two feet apart and whisper, “Not. Even. A. Little. Bit.”

He smiles, “You’re just trying to get away with making this cake by watching a YouTube tutorial. Admit it, you can’t even crack an egg properly.” His eyes are now as narrowed as mine as we stare each other down at a proximity that’s rapidly raising my body temperature and heartbeat. It’s not fair. I’m a mess around him so he automatically has the upper hand.

As expected, I give in, “You better not mess around though.”

After I force him to give me several different oaths, we start. I’m working on the batter, he’s working on the frosting. We decided to decorate it with crimson and dark purple frosting. We’re both really pick about the color shades so he’s currently struggling to get the crimson perfect. 

“Let’s make it a layer cake.“ He suggests out of the blue, “Two layers, nothing crazy.“

I think it over for a moment or two before shrugging, “OK, but then you better grab a bowl and help me with the second layer. You know how to make the batter, right?”

He confirms that he does and walks out of my line of sight. I hear him open the fridge as I whisk the eggs I have cracked with the sugar. 

“You want something to drink?“ He asks while rummaging through the fridge.

I decline, try to focus on the recipe that I have somehow memorized to the smallest of details. As I’m reciting the it silently to make sure I didn’t skip any steps with the batter, I feel something cold run down my back causing me to scream.

“What the fuck was that?!“ I turn around and glare at him just as the ice cube slips out from under my hoodie and falls to the floor. The fucker’s laughing whole heartedly, not giving a damn that he just gave me a mini heart attack. Mainly cause I thought it was a roach or something, and he know I hate bugs.

“You do realize how boiling red you are, right? You look like a lobster. I thought you needed something to cool you down.“

Instead of being annoyed, I do a full 180 and decide to play his game, “Yeah, I know...” I trail off, reaching my hand back towards the bowl of flour. Grabbing a a handful of the white powder I throw it at him before he can even catch on. Needless, to say, his outfit and hair aren’t so black anymore. “Ah, I knew your hair would look good with snowflakes in it, but you can never be too sure.”

“This means war, Y/N.” His smile is borderline malicious, getting me excited for what’s to come. 

Him and I have always had these so called wars, but never like you’d imagine. We are silent, strategic, subtle. Neither of us knows when the other will attack until it’s too late. That’s why instead of going for a counter-attack right away, he heads to complete his mission of making the batter for the second layer.

All is quiet except the noises of the utensils clinking together every now and then. I keep a close watch on him out of the corner of my eye and I notice no sus behavior. That is until I see him take a spoonful of his batter and eat it. I whirl around at the speed of a gust of wind, eyes wide, “Do you want to fuck up your guts.” He ignores me as he takes another spoonful, bringing it close to his mouth. This time, I grab onto his arm causing the contents of the spoon to spill on my hoodie.

I roll my eyes, unbothered by the brown stain that by some miracle missed the apron and fell on my grey hoodie, “Don’t. Eat. The. Batter. Copy?“

“Paste.“ He nods, smirking with pride as he puts the spoon aside.

I sigh and return to my side of the kitchen, focusing on the next task: poring the batter into the circular baking tray which he, for some reason, has two of. He repeats the task soon after me and we put the two trays in the oven. I help him with the frosting, getting the shades close enough to what we had in mind. 

After about five minutes of the crusts baking, a wonderful smell spreads throughout the kitchen. At this point, all we have to do is wait for the oven to signal that our cinnamon crust is ready to be taken out, wait for it to cool down and then frost the cake.

“It smells really good.“ He comments, turning his head to look at me.

I’m sitting atop the kitchen counter and Corpse is standing next to me. This is the only time him and I are at approximately the same height. The realization brings a thought to my mind, one that makes me feel like an evil mastermind.

“Hey, remember earlier when you said I couldn’t crack an egg properly?“ He hums affirmatively, “Well...“

The carton of eggs is within arm’s reach. I grab an egg, chip it off the side of the counter and crack it apart above his head, its contents coating his hair. “How’s that for a proper egg crack?” I ask victoriously.

He lets out a surprised sound, something between a gasp and a laugh. Shaking his head to get the yoke to fall down, he says amusedly: “I don’t know...you tell me.”

Too late for me to do anything. There’s milk all over me.

The malicious smile on his face is replicated on mine and now it’s really on. However, as we reach for the items meant to be out weapons, the oven dings.

Frosting the cake goes about as well as you expect: there’s more frosting on us than the cake itself.

“Let’s make amends, please. I’m so not looking forward to taking three showers tonight.“ I say, raising a white napkin and waving it around.

“Fair enough.“ He shrugs and we shake hands.

As I’m about to pull my hand back, he holds onto it, making me look up at him. Our eyes lock and I suddenly regain that same shakiness and vulnerability I always have around him. It never leaves me, I just manage to ignore it. The sound of my panic is muffled by the sound of my heart thumping the loudest it has ever. 

Expectedly, he is the bold one who makes the first and final move. The move to end one era of us and start another. His lips touch mine and all fades. It’s just him and I. The friends who were never just friends. The cowards who suck at dealing with emotions. The fearful little kids that are afraid of rejection because we both mean so much to each other, to the point of suffering to prevent the possibility of losing one another.

We embrace who we are, finally admitting that friends is not what we are meant to remain forever.

The kiss might’ve been brief, but the meaning it carries makes it the most valuable moment of my life. One I’ll cherish forever. Something in his eyes tells me he will too. That’s all I need. That’s all we need. No words are necessary.

Suddenly, our bubble bursts as a result of his ringing phone. He lets go of one of my hands and takes his phone from the counter.

“It’s Dave”, he smiles, picking up the call and turning to get me in the camera frame. “Hey Dave, look who’s here with me.“

I wave at the camera and at the baffled face of Dave. “Hi!”

“What, in the name of God, is that mess?“ He raises both his eyebrows as his eyes scan us and the kitchen behind us.

“You call it a mess, we call it baking.“ Corpse and I look at each other and smile, blushing as red as the streak in Dave’s hair.

“Am I missing something here? Did I call at a bad time?“ He asks, still struggling to rationalize what he is seeing.

“Yeah, you actually did. I’ll call you back.“ Corpse dead-ass hangs up on him, putting his phone away before turning to me, “We have more important matters at the moment.“

He kisses me again, this time more confidently. His arms wrap around me and prep me up on the counter, insinuating that this kiss won’t be as short as the last.

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Too Much Distance

Request: “hi! can i request an imagine where the reader almost breaks up with luke because the distance is too much, but luke immediately flies home to change their mind? thank you so much! I really love your work!”

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @lcvischmitt , @ogmilkis , @reidswords, @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave ,  @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016 , @brwn-sgr 

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: slight angst, murder mention (no details) 

Luke’s contact photo pops up on your phone, the ringtone interrupts the song you were playing, but as you slide to answer, you realize the sound of his voice is way better than whatever poppy tune had been on.  

“Hey babe,” you smile widely, trying to balance your phone between your ear and shoulder as you drive home from work.  The fact that you would be seeing Luke tonight was what had kept you smiling throughout the day.  Not even the heavy traffic could interfere with your good mood.  

When Luke joined the Bureau, you knew things would be difficult, but you both were dedicated to making things work.  However, the last few months had been harder than you could have ever anticipated.  It seemed like he was always away on a case, and the distance definitely took a toll on your relationship.  But that didn’t matter right now, because Luke would be home tonight.  

“Hey there,” Luke says back.  You can hear chatter in the background and briefly wondered where he was.  

“Are you almost home?” you ask, hopeful.

There’s a brief pause, then Luke sighs, “That’s actually what I was calling about—“

“Oh no,” you interrupt, “was the jet delayed?”

“No…” he clears his throat, “I’m actually still in LA.”

The moment he says the words, your coffee canister slips from your hands, spilling over your lap and car.  The heat immediately seeps through your skirt.  You’re lucky you don’t crash as you try to wipe it up with the napkins stuffed in your cup holder.  

“Shit,” you gasp, your thighs burning from the hot beverage.  “Shit, shit, shit—“  

You flip your blinker on, tears and anger both starting to fill you up, and pull over on the side of the road.  You wipe up the remainder of the coffee, ignoring Luke asking if everything was okay on the other end of the line.  

Once your legs no longer felt like they were on fire, you pick your phone back up, and already on the verge of tears resume your conversation.

“Are you serious?” you ask.  

“We got the wrong guy— the murders keep happening,“ you can tell he’s frustrated by the news too.  You can tell he’s trying to dodge a fight, which was really all you’d been doing lately.  Seeing each other today was what you had both been holding onto, or at least that’s what you thought.

You sigh, and without raising your voice say,  “I just… I mean we’ve had these dinner plans for so long— I mean my parents have been talking about this for weeks.“

“I know, I know, I know—“ he says frantically, “I’m so sorry, believe me, I’d much rather be there than here… we’re swamped.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, and close your eyes, listening to the sound of traffic rushing by your parked vehicle.  

“Okay,” you sigh, feeling so defeated and drained all of a sudden.  “Okay, well, we’ll miss you.”

“I know, tell everyone I say I’m sorry for not being there.”

“Yeah, alright,” you agree.  

“So we’ll just talk later then?” he asks, the noise in the background is getting louder.  

“Okay,” you say before hanging up.  You can’t help but notice that the “I love you’s” were skipped.  

You drove the rest of the way home with your fingers tightly clenched around the steering wheel.  Your knuckles were white by the time you pulled into the driveway.  You dragged your bag and coffee-stained self into the house to change and get ready for dinner with your family.  

You tried convincing yourself that the night would be fun, regardless of the fact that Luke  had bailed.  But the moment you sat around the table at the restaurant and counted that you were in fact the eleventh wheel of the family, you knew things were doomed.  Plus you couldn’t shake the achy feeling inside your chest that made you fear for your relationship with Luke.  You had been holding onto this weekend together with everything you had.  It kept you grounded, and reminded you that this distance between you and Luke wouldn’t last forever.  Now, you had nothing to hold on to.  

“Where’s Luke?” your mother immediately asked.  Of course.

Without even thinking, you lie, “His flight got delayed.  Bad weather—“  you’re not sure why you didn’t spill the truth.  Denial, maybe.  Embarrassment that his job would always come before you.

“Bad weather?” your brother asks, “In LA?”

“Yeah—“ you stammer, your face turning red.  “Tornados, I guess.”

Your brother goes to argue that statement, but his girlfriend elbows him, indicating for him to shut his mouth.  You give her a soft smile in appreciation.

You stay quiet for the majority of the meal, and you don’t feel much like eating.  

All-in-all, you’re relieved when everyone is ready to head home.  

“Hey,” your brother’s girlfriend catches up to you before you can head to your car,

“Hi,” you smile.

“Is everything okay?  I just— I wanted to make sure, cause you do know LA doesn’t have tornados, right?”

You nod and let out a shaky laugh.  “Yeah, I know.  And Luke’s flight never got delayed,” you take a deep breath, “I guess that just sounded better than the fact that he didn’t even get on his flight.  Got caught up at work,” you explain.

She pierces her lips empathetically.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just—“ you feel the tears starting to fill your eyes and you wipe them away, embarrassed.  “I don’t know if we’re gonna make it—“

“Oh no,” she says empathetically.

“The distance is just, really, really hard.  Way harder than I ever thought—“ even you can tell how choked up your voice sounds, “And I just don’t see it ending anytime soon.  He loves his job, and I’d never ask him to give that up.  But I can’t compete with it.  I just don’t know if I can do it—”

“Maybe you should talk to him about this,” she suggests, as she soothingly rubs your shoulder. “Tell him how much it’s bothering you.  Be honest.”

You nod. “Yeah you’re probably right,” you wipe your runny nose on your sleeve.  

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod, thanking her and hugging her goodbye.  She was right.  You did need to talk to Luke.  But that was a conversation you wished you could just keep on the back burner, ignoring until everything ignited.   You dreaded it the whole way home.  

The phone rang three times before Luke answered.

“How was dinner?” he asks.  

“It was fine—“ you lie, not really wanting to fake small talk, “everyone missed you.”

“Yeah, I wish I could’ve been there.”

You clear your throat as you anxiously drum your fingers on the counter.  

“Listen, Luke We need to talk—“

“Babe,” he protests, “I already apologized for not being there— I wanted to, but I can’t control what happens in this case.  It’s my job, I couldn’t say no.”

You didn’t want to fight.  You were too tired, too drained, too sad to fight.  “I know…” you say as non confrontational as possible, “I know it’s your job, I understand that, but I— I need you here, Luke.  And maybe that’s selfish of me, or whatever, but it’s true.  I can’t do this distance thing, I thought I could, but I can’t.  It’s killing me.”

“I mean, what do you want me to do?” Luke asks, “Quit?  Do you want me to quit my job?”

You squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of what was about to happen.  

“No, I don’t want that,” you say, your voice becoming heavy with tears,  “And I hate that this is through the phone, but I don’t think we should do this anymore.  I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

There’s a long silence, but it sounds so loud.  

You begin wondering if you should provide more of an explanation, but then Luke speaks. 

“Baby—“ he pleads, his voice full of desperation, “Please, I know you’re mad about tonight but I can fix this—“

“I’m not mad,” you tell him, pushing the emotion in your voice down and trying to muscle through.  “But I come second to your job, Luke.  And that’s not your fault.  But it’s not my fault either.  And I need more than that.”

He’s stammering incoherently on the other end, and you imagine what his face looks like right now.  Was he crying?  Were his eyebrows all scrunched up?

He tries protesting again, but your mind is made up.  

“Goodbye,” you whisper, hitting the end button before he could convince you otherwise.  As soon as the line went dead, you broke out into uncontrollable sobs.  The weight on your shoulders that you thought would be lifted only felt heavier as you let yourself fall to the floor.  

Your chest ached, and you clutched your arm around yourself, trying to hold everything together.  

It hurt like fucking hell.

You fell asleep with Netflix still playing on the TV, the screen lighting up the otherwise dark living room.  It was late when you woke to the sound of your door opening.  

Your first instinct was to scream, but you caught a glimpse of the familiar, dark haired man standing in front of you before that could happen.

“Luke?” you say groggily, rubbing your tired eyes.  “What are you doing?”  You feel like you might still be dreaming.

“I know you probably don’t want me here,” he says, he’s out of breath, panting, even.  “But just hear me out—” when you don’t protest, he continues.

“I love my job,” he states.  “Being part of the Bureau was my dream, and then that dream came true.  I love the BAU.  I love being a profiler.  I love being able to save lives—“

You let your eyes wander to the floor, wondering where this all was going.

“But none of that compares to how much I love you,” he says, his shoulders finally deflating.  “And I’ll quit in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes.”

It had been so long since Luke had told you he loved you, that you feared it might no longer be true.  But as soon as he says the words with such honesty and passion, your face scrunches up and the tears start to fall, because you immediately believe him.  For a moment, you forget that you’d practically broken up with him over the phone.

All you care about is that he’s here.  Luke is here, standing in front of you in real life for the first time in so long.  You rush over to him, crashing into his body as you wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head on his chest.  He smells so familiar, and when he curls his own arms around you, you immediately feel safe and secure and whole again.  

You’re not sure how long you stay like that.  But you’re afraid that the minute you let go, things will fall apart again.  

Eventually you speak, “I love you so much, but I could never ask you to quit your job,” you sigh.  “You’d be so unhappy and I’d hate myself for making you unhappy.”

Luke nods, he’s grateful that you understood, but he desperately needed to clarify things.  “You don’t come second to my job, baby.  Not even close, okay?”

You nod into his chest, but he senses that you don’t quite believe him.  He pulls you away and holds you out in front of him, making sure you understand. 

“If I quit the BAU, yeah- I’d miss it.  Eventually though, I’d move on and find something else.  But if I lost you--” Luke shakes his head, like the thought alone is too unbearable.  “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to be happy again.  You come first, okay?  Always.” 

You give Luke the best attempt at a smile that you can come up with, enough to show him that you appreciate his gesture.  It was nice knowing how much Luke cared for you.   

Luke hugs you again, squeezing like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.  You squeeze back, hugging him back as tightly as you could.  

When you finally pull away, you look up at him and ask, “How did your case end?”

Luke shrugs, “Not sure- the team’s still working it in LA. They said they’d keep me updated.”

You narrow your eyes at him, confused.  “What?  You left before it was solved?”

Luke nods, his voice nonchalant, like it was no big deal.  “Yeah, well,” he sighs.   “Someone more important came up.”

And in that moment, on top of admiration and love and endearment, you felt hopeful.  Hopeful for the first time in a long time, because even though things between you and Luke were far from perfect, you loved him and he loved you and that was worth fighting for.  

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Heart, Mind and Soul

(A Jack x Rin x Roland drabble)

Word Count: 1770

Warnings: a coming out and mentions of polyamory

A/N: While celebrating the arrival of Emma's baby, Jack comes to a happy realization. This is 100% out of order from "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" and its impending sequel. 🤣

“This baby is very..”

“Oh, he's lovely! You’re lovely! Jack, doesn't Emma look lovely?! I know you're very fuck the lot of ya inside. You need me to take some of that from you? Or him?”

“Blimey, Little Bird,” Jerry laughed.

“Sorry! Sorry. Bit of an emotional tornado going on from everyone. I get nervous and manic.”

“Squidgy,” Jack finally managed to finish his sentiment from before. Everyone stared at him, “Well he is! I've no proper contact with kids save Billy, but he’s a teenager. Wasn't exactly in a right way when he came round was I?”

“I've got loads of experience with them,” Roland piped up from his place against the wall. The others seemed to forget he was there. Except Rin.

Rin knew he was vibrating with the sound of gentle chaos that surely emanated from Emma, Jerry and the baby. “Plenty of kids in the traveller community I came from. We all chip in and help,” he spoke softly. His long arms outstretched towards the mother and her infant. “I’d like to hold him if Jack won't.”

Emma’s eyes darted from Rin to her brother. She wasn't full of panic (like Jack), or excitement (like Rin). It was more like confusion over Roland’s place in their life.

Rin felt that her.. well could she say sister-in-law? Sister? They were great friends. Either way, Emma liked Roland. She liked that he teased out the jealous, competitive side of Jack. That he made her brother human. Social. That Roland fit like a strange musical puzzle piece into Jack and Rin’s life together. Rin knew Emma just didn't have the words to ask what was going on.

Jack's body tensed. His nostrils flared as he puffed out his chest. “I'll hold him!” he protested. From his position behind the medium, Emma and Rin noticed a cheeky grin spread along Roland’s face.

“First of all relax,” Emma gently suggested. Jack tried, his shoulders sagged and curved downward. “You can either hold him one of two ways. Like this,” she demonstrated holding the newborn against her shoulder. Her one hand covered his back; the other cupped his head. “Or in your arms this way.” Now she situated the baby cradled in her arms. Not once did he stir or open his eyes.

“Either way you might as well learn both, love. So you can help Em and Jez,” Rin pointed out. “Get the hang of carrying him about, then feeding and changing nappies.”

“Uh, doesn't he need Emma for the feeding?” Jack's question was innocent enough. “And me? Billy’s fourteen. He’ll be round more than I will.”

“C’mon mate, just say you’re scared. I'll take him instead.” Roland stepped towards Emma and everyone else.

Emma made to hand the baby off to Roland, but Jack piped up. “No! He's my nephew! I'll hold him first!” The baby whinged in response, but still no crying.

“Alright, no need for a shout. So touchy. Ok just hold your arms like this,” Roland crossed his arms in front of his body and hugged his elbows. Jack mimicked him. “Now in the crook. That's where his head goes, alright?”

“Yes Daaaddd,” Jack rolled his eyes heavenward and stared up at Roland through the curls that hung over his forehead. He sneered with a lip curled, but it was only playful.

Emma could see the light behind her brother’s eyes as he and Roland looked at one another. She knew that look. The flirtatious, almost bashful one two people who were newly in love- or at least attracted to one another- gave. Other than the fleeting smirk, only Jack's eyes gave him away.

Roland, on the other hand, couldn't seem to hide the affection he held for the other man. His smile was wide and dimpled his cheeks. Yet Emma couldn't tell if it was Jack or Rin he was in love with.

Emma noticed the way Rin seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on between the two men while she curled herself into Jack’s side. Her chin resting against him as the baby was placed in his waiting arms. The way the empath felt about Jack was often spread out around to everyone nearby. An overwhelming sense of calm and warmth would blanket them. Often accompanied by a wild heartbeat and flushed cheeks.

But there's no way she could be unaware, Emma thought to herself. Rin literally absorbed emotions. Was she ignoring it then? Afraid to confront the situation lest she lose Jack or Roland who had been the woman’s oldest, and only, friend.

“That's it. Look at that,” Roland interrupted Emma’s contemplation. “You're a natural, love.”

Even Jerry knitted his brows in confusion. He shrugged as his wife stood beside him. They watched as Rin’s friend joined the couple on the sofa. He settled into Jack the way his girlfriend was. Was it just to get a better look at the baby, or was it more?

Jack, it seemed, was a natural. After the initial shock of actually holding an infant in his arms, his body relaxed immensely. He cradled the head in his hand and realized just how enormous it was in comparison. Or how good the baby smelled.

Jack didn't even know babies smelled good. Or took ragged little breaths in their sleep like a sigh. Or had the soft cheeks that he was now brushing ever so gently with the thumb of his free hand. Then over the bottom lip. His lips.

“I think he's got my mouth,” Jack said in utter fascination. The baby finally opened his eyes and attempted to focus up at the face in front of him. “Oh brilliant!” Jack marveled now. “He's got my eyes! Well, OUR eyes,” including Emma in the statement.

“Technically all babies have those color eyes until they're at least a few months old, then they'll change to a more permanent one.”

“Thank you for that soul crushing spot of information, Rolo.” Jack's eyes rolled again, but he jokingly jabbed him with an elbow. It was totally flirting.

Rin placed her hand on the newborn’s forehead. She closed her eyes and appeared to drift off for a little. “Babies are so emotionally quiet. They need just three things, and they either like you or they don't. You’re in luck, babes. He bloody well adores you.”

Jack felt a lump in his throat. He thought back to the day he and Martin, Emma’s ex and Jack's “lawyer”, were sat together before Jack was taken to hospital. How Martin had told the young man there wasn't much to like about him. Jack's response then was the same as it was right now. Except the tears that unexpectedly slid down his cheeks were happy ones.

“Cheers, mate.” Jack's crooked grin was full of hope. A tear fell on his nephew’s forehead which he quickly tried to wipe away, but Roland beat him to it. Their fingers brushed together; Jack bit his lip. His heart rate picked up.

“Givin’ him a bath already, and ye only just held him a first time, Uncle Jazz..” Roland paused to let that roll off his tongue.

Jack and Rin simultaneously scrunch their noses. Faces screwed up in obvious fake disgust as they stared at their third.

“Absolutely not!”

“Jazz sounds like every musician ever trying to fight each other for the spotlight. No bleeding way. Rather listen to your stupid theremin!”

“Jazz is improvise and-” Roland swallowed his bottom lip and took a breath as the other two just laughed. “Fine! How's Jax?”

“Loads better!” the others exclaimed together.

Rin snaked her hand across Jack's shoulders and lost her fingers in the hair on the back of Roland’s neck. Their attention back on the infant.

Emma’s face began to match her hair with redness. Only because she couldn't stand not knowing what was going on. She wasn't upset or even worried. No, she knew Rin was giving off tendrils of stillness. That Emma would be ok. That everything was ok. She squeezed Jerry’s hand and he whispered in her ear that the little bird was right.

“Alright, who next? Wren? Rolo?” Now Roland’s eyes rolled dramatically. “Maybe Auntie if she's ready?” Jack turned to her.

“Since I am INCREDIBLY turned on watching you hold this baby, hand him to Rol so I can see if it does the same?” She was flirting.

“I’d love to if ye don't mind?”

Jack relented. He handed the baby off to Roland who held him quite expertly in one arm. His other hand free to absently swipe a stray tear on Jack's cheek who leaned into the hand that lingered on his face.

The three of them forgetting where they were. Or weren't? Either way, Roland’s hand cradled the side of Jack's face the way he was the baby’s head. It took little encouragement, and the softest tug, for the men to bring their mouths together in a tender kiss. Jack's hand clinging to Roland’s shirt.

Rin covered Roland’s hand on her boyfriend’s cheek and ended the kiss. She turned his face towards hers, hand tangled up in the wildness of Jack's hair now. Their mouths meshed into one for a few moments before breaking apart. Their foreheads pressed together as they smiled at one another with a knowing glance.

Then Rin leaned around Jack so Roland could bend to kiss her too. Their lips lingered this time with a hint of tongue.

“Jack, is there something you.. You want to tell me? Us?”

“Yeah mate, safe space and all. Scout’s honor.”

Jack heaved a sigh. A contented one as the three people on the sofa all shared secret smiles with one another. The notion being passed amongst them silently. emphatically. That it was the right time to say it out loud.

“Seems I love men and women. And well, guess I've gone and fallen in love with one of each? They’re not making me choose because they are already in love. It’s been working for awhile now.”

“We just never said it out loud till right now,” Rin added.

“It sounds like fecking music to my ears,” Roland almost giggled.

“You don't hate me, do ya Em?” Jack was suddenly worried. Heart again in his throat.

Emma’s face relaxed. She didn't quite understand how it worked. A threesome that lasted into a relationship. What she did know was that Jack looked truly happy. He was as relaxed as the baby in Roland’s arms. How lucky that he was loved by two people instead of just one? That's all that mattered.

“I guess we say welcome to the family!”

Tag list: @neuroticpuppy @elliethesuperfruitlover @magic-multicolored-miracle @super-unpredictable98 @nightmonsters @rob-private @icecoffeegirl @frogs--are--bitches @maerenee930 @a-ghoulish-tale @070188 @forenschik @messengeronthemoon @bisexualnathanyoung @sapphogrrrl @bwritesstuff @clumsyramen @demons-dogs-and-puns @falloutby @forenschik @the-freckled-luba @shrillbonsoir @ghouls-buddy

[mooglesorts]

man. it's weird, because there's a lot of things about me that are Very Badger Primary, to the point where i would probably pick it with a strong bird model over anything else at this point... except that i hate dehumanization. i saw primaries described recently as 'things you wouldn't be you anymore if you went against,' and more than just about anything else that's it. even when i think people are monsters, i can't see them as not human; i'd be hard put to define exactly what i consider a 'monster,' but it's more about like. good faith than personhood, i suppose?

it's not necessarily a permanent status to be one--people can change--but my deeply held instinct is that once you have done something monstrous you will always be a person who has been a monster by your own choices, and that it's your duty to learn how to accept that while still living your life, and act accordingly from thereon out. you have to reconcile that you are a person with the fact that some doors are closed to you now, and it's up to you to decide what you do from there.

just. like. even when i hate someone and as far as i'm concerned they can go fuck themself, even in the multiple Heavily Badger social environments i've been in over the course of my life--church, progressive circles, the way the structure of the internet kind of just affects you in general--even on occasions where i've gotten swept away and given in to the pressure to dehumanize (or perform it) for a minute, there's always, always been a voice in the back of my head saying this is a person. this is a person. this is a person. this isn't right.

unintentional dehumanization sets off my '...should we really be doing this? we are getting into not good territory here, it's time to pull up and start questioning' alarms. explicit, intentional, purposeful dehumanization sets off the whole ass tornado sirens. if people on my side are doing it it's enough to throw me into a system-destabilizing crisis, because NO NO NO I WANT TO GET OFF THIS RIDE, I WANT NO PART OF THESE PEOPLE'S MORAL SYSTEM, I FEEL UNCLEAN. it's a good way to make sure i will never, ever, ever trust someone again.

things that are Really Really Badger, off the top of my head (after the cut because Long and trauma talk):

[[MORE]]

---

-i've always loved playing adoptable games, pet simulators, etc? any game with randomly generated characters that are Yours Now and a Community, in a deeply badgery way. including games where they can die (the satisfying part is making sure they don't). except that, no matter how much fun the gameplay is, if it gets to the point where they start feeling disposable, and the only way to really keep playing is to stop humanizing them, i lose interest. it's super fucking depressing. it feels like part of me dying inside a little. i don't like it at all.

-i've always been drawn to fandoms and roleplaying communities. i was fiercely loyal to, and proud of, my first rp community on dragoncave as a 13-year-old. when my abusive mom found out about it and completely isolated me for half a year, the promise of being able to make it back to them--just sneakier this time--kept me going; when i finally got back and the group had drifted apart in my absence, it.... was absolutely devastating. i never really recovered from it. even then, i spent years trying to get the group back together every now and then, until i finally gave up.

-i am always keenly, painfully aware of the life cycle of a community. every time i hear the sentiment 'you guys are all great and i love this group' my stomach drops, because i know it's only a matter of time before things go sour or the group dissolves. rp groups, skype chats/discord servers, fandoms, you name it, i am always bracing myself or staying away entirely to avoid the inevitable and it hurts. and it hurts to see people taking part in a community i don't dare be part of, which makes lurking in fandoms... really rough. frankly, it takes me a lot of courage every time i express my appreciation for the shc community because i've been burned so many times.

-on that note: i went through some really traumatic stuff at the end of 2020 that completely turned my life upside down, and i was doing bad until i stumbled across the shc community. the moment i started engaging, it was a huge boost to my mental health, and my ability to cope with circumstances under which i was about to break down spectacularly. and it has been ever since! contributing to The Group Project and seeing other folks being friendly with each other gives me the happy feelings.

-i used to go out of my way to build and run spaces, mainly fandom and rp spaces, and took a lot of pride in engineering them so that they Functioned Well. unfortunately it wore me the hell down over the years for Burnt Badger Reasons, and now i'm too jaded, bitter, and exhausted to give a shit about being a mod/community leader anymore because of it lmao

-among those burnt badger things i relate HARD to the Red Ledger narrative. hoo boy.

-i wish i could find it again, but there was an mlp comic i saw once which went into luna's observations of what each element of harmony Means. with the element of friendship, she says that twilight has a massive amount of love to give; right now it's all focused on celestia, but when she learns to expand it outward she'll have grown into her full potential as a person, and she'll change the world. that struck a chord with how i used to feel, hard, and it's really stuck with me ever since. (hello, unhealthy snake model)

-emphasis on 'used to feel,' lmao

-got super invested in a really toxic '''mental health''' community at a low point in my life; exploded HARD trying to help everyone i could; got into vicious, protracted fights with the shitty mods for years about the harmful way they ran their community until i finally managed to go 'fuck this it's not getting better' and leave.

-had to numb myself emotionally to the people around me for a long time once i really started learning about mental health and trauma stuff, because now i was seeing signs of their pain and baggage everywhere i looked, and i couldn't handle not being able to help.

-the imagery with which i think about my bird primary is overwhelmingly negative. whether it's my actual primary or a model, i uh. i feel like a healthy relationship to one's primary doesn't involve associating it with gore.

-i saw a conversation recently about how birds think of morality in terms of 'if you can, you should,' and how that's scary for badgers because their definition of 'can' involves destroying yourself for the sake of that 'should,' and... yeah, that's a mood. that's a BIG mood. thinking about bird primary stuff is hard--and i had to pick up my lion model to deal with it--because it's so easy for me to spiral into a self-shredding spiral of other people are counting on you to do the right thing, how dare you pull back for your own health and sanity. how dare you turn your back for even a minute. how dare you rest. the work is never done.

which is... a very exploded badger approach to exploded bird morality. whoops.

-fix-it and time travel fiction in which Everything Went Right This Time and It's Going to Be Okay are one of my very favorite self-indulgent fantasies. i will enjoy putting characters through the wringer in all kinds of creatively horrific ways which may or may not end on a downer note, certainly, i love that shit, but i will also 90% of the time have a backup version of the arc or dynamic that's softer and lighter and Actually Healthy This Time. it's the dichotomy there that really gets me tbh, a story where Everything Ends Happily by default will mmmaybe pull me in? but stories where there's the constant shadow of this could end horribly, it's supposed to end horribly, and we got a happy fucking ending anyway are just... that shit will make me cry, man.

it's also why i kind of really hate stable time loop stories where it initially looks like this is going to be The Good Timeline this time around, but OOPSIE everything went to shit anyway! we're right back where we started, just like it was meant to be all along! it's a tired cliche by this point and an unsatisfying one for me, and it makes me roll my eyes every time.

-this is relevant to the bird vs. badger because like... my gut instinct is to prioritize people over systems. when shit hits the fan, when someone's fallen into the machinery and is about to get hurt, i don't feel right about it if i just let it happen. i'll break the machinery if i have to to keep it away from them; i won't feel great about that, and it might cause problems, but fuck it, we'll figure it out later. throwing people into the gears of a system when i'm convinced it's the only option makes me feel Awful.

-related to the above, another trope that really speaks to me in fiction is when a character defies the rules of reality through sheer force of will. no, this is not happening, i don't give a shit what the limits are supposed to be. i refuse to let this be the way things are. (there's that lion model.)

-i've just kind of... always wanted to be an Everyone Badger. it makes me sad how much of that i've lost over the years as i've gotten more cynical, but it's what i wish i could be.

---

doubtless i'll think of more the moment i hit send, and there are just as many things about me that are Super Bird Primary, but like... mamma mia that's some spicy badger. the main thing stopping me is the Can't and Refuse to Dehumanize bit. i also... hm. i think i can function okay without a community? they just help a lot, and it sucks when i'm confronted with one i don't have a (stable) place in. any thoughts? is it possible for a bird system's foundation to run so deep that eventually it overrides the bird?

[nothingbutimagines]

Elizabeths (Chapter II)

Pairing: Bad boy!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Cursing, death, mentions of suicide

Summary: Y/n is part of her high school’s most powerful and most popular clique, but she disapproves of the other girls’ behavior. When Y/n meets the new boy in school, Peter Parker, and begins dating him, what she has known to be her clique begins to unravel. Starting with the death of the clique leader, Liz Allan, one by one, people Y/n doesn’t like begin to die by her and Peter’s hands. Soon, she realizes that Peter is killing students he hates and begins to try to foil his plans, all while clashing with the new clique leader, Elizabeth “Betty” Brant.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is a Peter Parker AU I thought of doing. It’s a Heathers AU!!! This is going to follow a similar plot to Heathers, but of course, I won’t keep everything the exact same. Here, we meet our protaganist, Y/n, and our love interest, JD Peter.

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

Dear Diary,

I know I said I only fuck with the college boys and to hell with the high school ones, but goddamn, I can’t take my mind of off Peter Parker. Especially with him pulling that shit he did with the gun in the commons. 

“God, they won’t expel him. They’ll probably just suspend him for a week or something.” Lizzie insisted, clacking her croquet mallet against your own as you both chuckled. 

“He used a real gun.” Liz scoffed. “They should throw his ass in jail. Doesn’t he know today’s climate? Hasn’t he heard of Columbine?”

“No way.” You argued, leaning forward on your unused mallet as you watched Liz retie her ponytail with that red scrunchie you always hated. “He used blanks. All Peter did was ruined two pairs of pants... maybe not even that...” You and Lizzie began giggling. “I mean, can you bleach out urine stains?”

The sound of Liz knocking her mallet into the red ball and the red ball hitting Betty’s green one was a response enough. The sound was almost deafening as silence fell between you and Lizzie. 

“Ah, yes, Peter.” Liz finally spoke up, “You seem pretty amused. I thought you were over high school guys.” 

“Never say never.”

“What are you going to do, Liz? Take the two shots or knock me out?” Betty asked, her doe like eyes meeting Liz’s, making it clear she had not been paying attention to the conversation at hand. 

“Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast?” Liz snapped. “First you ask if you can be red, knowing I am always red...”

You watched as Liz took a step forward, her foot firm on her red ball as she hit the mallet against it, the red ball sending Betty’s green into the flower bed, causing you to wince as Liz grunted triumphantly. 

Liz hit her ball again, this time falling short of the wicket as she groaned, rolling her eyes. Always too cocky too early, Liz.

“Damn.” She cursed. “Anyway, I can say never to high school boys. Especially when I have Steve.” 

“Ah, yes. King Steve.” Lizzie chuckled, taking her shot and getting the yellow ball through the wicket as she squealed. 

“Maybe when you get older and actually reach maturity, you’ll understand the difference between Columbia University man like Steve and a Midtown High boy like Brad “nut-and-bolt” Davis.” 

Lizzie shrugged. “I think Brad’s sweet. Your turn, Betty!” 

Betty pouted, a whine escaping her throat as she navigated getting into the flower bed, trying to avoid the peonies your mother had planted earlier in the week. 

“No pain, no gain!” Lizzie teased.

“Give it up, girl!” You added, both of you howling at Betty. 

You watched as Betty furrowed her brow, leaning down a bit as she hit the ball. You chuckled as it bounced off a tree and then hit the fountain in the yard before rolling perfectly through the wicket. 

“Holy shit!” You gasped, howling in laughter.

“That was incredible!” Lizzie squealed.

“What. A. Shot.” Liz added, shaking her head, a mixture of pride and jealousy in her smirk. 

You began setting up your shot as Lizzie spoke up, your attention half on her and the other half on getting the shot. 

“So, tonight’s the night. Are you two excited?” Lizzie asked, glancing between both you and Liz. 

“I’m giving Y/n her shot. Her first Columbia party. You blow it tonight, girl, and it’s keggers with kids all senior year.” 

You groaned, having missed your shot. As you dropped your mallet, bending down to pick it up, you rolled your eyes as Liz’s attitude. 

“Damn.” You cursed. “So, who’s this Bucky guy I’ve been set up with? Witty and urban pre-law or an idiot and savant art major?”

“Don’t worry.” Liz rolled her eyes. “Steve says he’s very. So he’s very.”

“I doubt it.” You muttered, knowing full well the only boy you wanted to be set up with is the bad boy wannabe from the commons. 

“Lizzie! Your mom is here!” Your mother called before Liz could open her mouth to say anything further. 

“Come on, whoever wants a ride!” Lizzie announced. “Bye, Y/n. Good luck.” 

“Yeah, good luck.” Betty agreed as she rushed past, following Lizzie and Liz up the stairs. 

You dropped your mallet and followed behind the girls, waving them off as they cut through the side of the house and off the property. You took a seat at the table on the patio as your father took a seat beside you, James Patterson book in hand as you mother joined you both, salsa and chips on the platter clutched in her fists. 

“So, what was the first week of Spring Break withdrawal like?” Your father asked, leaning past your slouching figure to grab a chip. 

“Hey, kid, isn’t the prom coming up?” Your mother asked before you could answer your father.

You shrugged with a smile. “I guess it is.”

“Any contestants worth mentioning?” 

“Maybe. I guess you could say there is a bit of a dark horse in the running.”

“Goddamn. Why do I even read these damn Patterson books. Bastard probably doesn’t even write them.” Your father chimed in, looking up at you.

“Because you’re an idiot.” You beamed, laughing alongside him for a moment. 

“Oh, yeah. That’s it.”

“You two...” Your mother smiled, shaking her head.

“Thanks for the salsa.” You rose from your seat. “But I gotta motor if I want to be ready for that party tonight.” 

Dear Diary,

When you fuck with the eagles, you gotta learn to fly. Columbia is Liz kicking my ass out of the nest, whether I like it or not. And to be honest, I don’t wanna fucking fly. 

You opened the car door, the cold night breeze chilling you to the bone as you slammed the door shut, wincing as you knew Liz would scold you for your improper behavior later. Tugging at the length of your sleeves, you walked towards the 7-11.

“Corn nuts!” Liz yelled, half her body out the car window as she yelled at you. 

Without looking back, you waved her off, tempted to just give her the middle finger and call it a night. 

You swung the door open, the warm draft greeting you as you made a beeline to the Corn Nuts, hoping to get in and get out and get this goddamn Columbia party over with. 

“You going to get a Big Gulp with that?” A voice erupted from behind you as you turned around, the bag of Corn Nuts you needed in hand. 

“No, but if you’re nice, I’ll let you buy me a Slurpee.” You teased, meeting Peter’s eyes, or rather, eye, as the other was covered by his falling bang. “You sure do know your 7-11 slang.” 

“I’ve moved around all my life; Baton Rouge, Vegas, Dallas, Suburbia. There’s always been a 7-11. The only stability. Any town, any time, I can pop a chicken sandwich in the microwave and feast on a tornado. Keeps me sane.” He explained, his hand shaking next to his head at the end of his speech. 

“Really?” You asked, “I don’t know, I mean, that thing you pulled today was pretty severe.”

“The extreme always makes an impression, but you’re right, it was pretty severe. Did you say a Coke or Cherry Slurpee?” 

“I didn’t.” You pulled a red vine from the open box at the counter. “Cherry.” 

You smiled, taking a bit out of the vine as you twirled it between your fingers, Peter matching your expression. You took the Slurpee from his hand and followed him to the counter, the silence between you comfortable as he paid for the snacks you collected and you followed him outside. 

You shivered in the cold air, the thought that getting a Slurpee was a good idea now turning in your mind. 

“Great bike.” You nodded to the motorcycle as Peter took a seat on it. 

Liz honked her horn, causing you to tear your gaze from Peter as she gave you an agitated look, only for you to return the gesture with a glare and turn back to Peter.

“Just a humble perk from my uncle’s construction company or should I say deconstruction company?” 

“I don’t know, should you?”

“My uncle seems to enjoy tearing things down more than building things up. Seen the commercial? ‘Bringing every State to a Higher State.’“

“Oh, shit.” You gasped, connecting the dots as you playfully hit Peter’s shoulder. “Peter Parker... Your uncle’s Big Ben Parker Construction. Must be rough, moving place to place.”

Peter shrugged. “Everybody’s got some static in their life. Is your life perfect?”

You scoffed. “Sure, I’m going to a Columbia University party.”

Liz honked the horn again, letting her hand rest on the horn for a little longer as you frowned.

“It’s not perfect.” Your tone was serious. “I don’t really like my friends.”

“I don’t really like your friends either.” Peter shook his head, a low chuckle escaping his lips. 

“It’s like they’re just people I work with and our job is being popular and shit.” 

“Maybe it’s time for a vacation.” 

Liz’s horn blared again as you waved at Peter, starting to walk away. “You’re telling me!”

Dear Diary,

The day I take a vacation, that’ll be the day Liz Allan is dead. Until then, I’m stuck doing my job being her popular lap dog and sucking her dick by telling her how hot and popular she is. 

You could barely suppress a look of disgust as you followed Liz and Steve through the crowded dormitory hallway and into Steve’s dorm. You hated Steve. Sleazy, sweaty, somewhat mediocre looking Steve. You could feel the clot of bile creep up your throat as Steve held the door open for you, the sick smell of cheap beer and sweat so pungent your eyes teared up. 

“You can just throw your coats down on the bed, girls.” Steve instructed as both you and Liz slipped off your coats and did as you were told. 

You watched as Steve walked away for a moment, you assumed to get Bucky as you looked at Liz, who was watching them as well, the doe like look in her eyes telling you that she was in love with him. That for some reason, the clever bitch fell for the disgusting college guy. 

“Y/n, this is Buck.” Steve introduced the other boy, his hand clasped on his shoulder as he guided him to you. 

“Excellent.” Bucky nodded, his eyes tracing over your form as you held back a frown. “Did you girls bring your partying boots?”

“Yeah, let’s party.” Liz smiled, jerking you to get you to do the same. 

Steve chuckled, throwing his arm around Liz as he looked at her. “What can I say? She loves to party.” 

Dear Diary, 

I want to kill and you have to believe... damn pen! 

“So, are you a cheerleader?” Bucky asked, his back against the tacky blue and grey striped wallpaper.

“Not at all.” You gagged, the smell of beer and cigarettes on his breath making you nauseous as you took a sip of the drink in your hand. 

“You’re pretty enough to be one.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

“It’s so great to be able to talk to a girl without having to ask ‘what’s your major?’ I hate that.” Bucky took a sip of his beer before continuing, “So, when you go to college, what do you think you’ll study?”

You have to believe it’s for more than selfish reasons. More than a spoke in my menstrual cycle. You have to believe me. 

Bucky had given up on conversation, you could tell by the way he shifted on his heels uncomfortably. It’s not like you minded, nor cared, since you debated finding Liz’s coat and stealing her car, leaving her in your dust. 

Goddamn Liz. Goddamn Columbia guys. Goddamn you for agreeing to be here.

“So, what do you say we go up to my dorm and have a real party? I’ve got the best rap mix in the whole dorm.” Bucky’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as another boy approached.

“Buck, man,” The boy jerked Bucky around by the shoulder, “Nick’s been looking for you. He says he owes you for blow and he just got some shit himself.”

“You’re kidding. Asshole really scored some of his own?”

“He’s in Nat’s room. Go, man. Party on.”

“Excellent.” Bucky finally turned to you, as if he forgot you were even there, “Y/n, you ever do coke?”

“Ever since writing that DARE essay in fifth grade, I refuse everything.” 

“DARE? Are you sure that shit still works?”

You smacked your forehead lightly. “Oh, geez, right! I wrote that at eleven. Might as well do drugs now since I’m not so stupid!” 

You groaned, pushing through the crowded hallway back to where you and Liz had thrown your coats. 

“Hey, don’t run off, now!” Bucky called out, following behind you closely.

Seventeen is the last year Mom buys the Twinkies. When you make the jump from working at Pizza Hut on the weekends to working thirty years at I.B.M, when you lose something, not innocence - power.

You swung open the door to the room, throwing yourself on the stack of coats on the couch beside the door. Setting your glass of vodka in your lap, you pulled out the matchbook you’d gotten at the 7-11. You struck a match, holding your hand over the flame, bringing it closer and closer until the red light licks your hand, causing you to shriek in pain. You dropped the match into the glass, shocked when it catches fire. Giggling to yourself, you toss the glass out the open window; out of sight, out of mind.

“There you are.” Bucky’s voice has you rolling your eyes as you turn to him. “How’s my little cheerleader? Now I know everyone at your high school isn’t so uptight, come on.” 

His hand was coated in sticky sweat as it touched your tight covered thigh and his breath was hot and warm as his leaned in too close to your face. 

“Hey, I really don’t feel so great.” You argued, shoving him away from you as you shot up off the couch. 

“Let’s do it on the coats.” He grinned, oblivious to your side of the conversation. “It’ll be excellent.”

“You know, I have a little prepared speech I give when my suitor wants more than I’d like to give him. Gee, Blank, I had a nice-”

“Save the speeches for Malcolm X. I just wanna get laid.” Bucky chuckled, cutting off your sentence before you could even get the bulk of it out. 

You yanked your coat out from under him, sending him sliding off the couch and to the floor.

“You don’t deserve my fucking speech.” You huffed, stepping over him and storming out the door.

You slow as you realized you now gained Liz’s attention, along with Steve’s as Bucky emerges from the “coat” room. You can tell by the falling smiles on both Steve’s and Liz’s faces as Bucky spews some words you can’t hear that they are more than pissed at you. You watch, your eyes widening as Liz slides her beer glass on the table beside her, steel-faced as she approaches you. 

“What’s your damage? Bucky says you’re being a real cooze.” Liz snapped.

“Liz, I feel awful, like I’m going to throw up. Can we jam, please?”

“Hell no.”

You couldn’t help it, the sudden clot in your throat was replaced with actual vomit as you leaned against the wall, rendered unable by your sudden fatigue to make it to the bathroom. You leaned over, vomit spilling onto the carpet and splatter hitting Liz’s red heels. Groaning, you charge down the hallway and out the door, determined to make it back to the car as Liz follows close behind. 

Christ, I can’t explain it, but I’m allowed an understanding that my parents and these Columbia University assholes have chosen to ignore. I must stop Liz.

“You stupid cunt!” Liz roared, the trash can fire casting shadows on her face as you shivered in the cool night air. 

“You goddamn bitch!” 

“You were nothing before you met me! You were playing Barbies with Cindy Moon! You were a Brownie, you were a Bluebird, you were a Girl Scout Cookie! I got you into a Columbia University party! What’s my thanks? It’s on the hallway carpet. I got paid in puke!” 

“Like it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.”

“Monday morning, you’re history. I’ll tell everyone about tonight. Transfer to Washington. Transfer to Jefferson. No one at Midtown is going to let you play their reindeer games.”

Cindy Moon was a real friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatchdogs and Diet Cokeheads. Killing Liz’d be like offing the Wicked Witch of the West. Or is it East? West! I sound like a fucking psycho. Tomorrow I’ll be kissing her aerobicized ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Liz. A world where I am free. 

You couldn’t help but fling your diary across the room, the satisfying thud from it hitting the wall beside your window soothing you as you wallowed in anger. You gasp as you hear a sound at the window, looking up, you tear off your glasses and make eye contact with one Peter Parker. 

“Dreadful etiquette, I apologize.” 

“It’s okay...” You replied breathlessly.

“I saw the croquet set out back, you up for a match?”

Your heart was still racing, however instead of the initial shock, it was now revving up with anxiety as you looked at the boy in your bedroom. Was he even really there? Or was he just an anger fueled hallucination?

“Sure. But I’m blue.”

Dear Diary,

When did my life become reminiscent of a YA novel? When did I come to believe it wasn’t weird that Peter Parker was coming through my window? Did Twilight finally condition me into believing odd behavior was true romance?

“Now I can see why you looked so mangled when I came up.” Peter shook his head, his voice soft. 

You shifted so that your head was on his bare chest, your eyes focused on the pile of his clothes that sat beside him. 

“I’ve always treated Liz’s drama queen plays as bullshit, but I’m honestly really scared. Who am I going to sit with at lunch on Monday?” You groaned, leaning back onto the grass, the blades pricking your bare shoulders. “God, I sound like I’m from Riverdale.” 

“Are girls really that bad?” 

“It’s a dog eat dog world.” You shrugged. “It feels like it’s either kill yourself or get told to kill yourself.”

“Geez.” Peter shook his head. “That was my first game of strip croquet, by the way. I thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s a lot more interesting than flinging your clothes off and going at it on a neighbor’s swing set.”

“Well, I don’t know, there’s something to be said for- ouch!” 

You chuckled as the blue mallet that was stuck in the ground fell over and hit the boy. He handed you your panties that fell along with the mallet before sliding on his own underwear. 

“What a night.” You giggled, slipping on your panties as you kissed him softly and stood up. “What a life. I almost moved into high school right out of sixth grade because I was some sort of genius. But of course, my mother was too scared I wouldn’t make friends, so we chucked the idea and blah, blah, blah.”

You searched the yard for your clothes, cursing Peter silently for allowing you to toss them around instead of into a neat pile like he had done. You picked up your shirt and pants, gathering up your socks and slippers before putting them on as you spoke.

“But now blah-blah-blah is all I ever do. I use my grand I.Q. to decide what shade of lip gloss to buy and how to hit three keggers before curfew. Some genius.” 

“Liz Allan is one bitch that deserves to die.” Peter blurted out, making it clear he wasn’t listening to you. 

“Killing her won’t solve anything.”

“A well time lighting bolt on her walk into school on Monday morning, all the other Elizabeths, shit, the whole school, would be cut loose.”

“Well, then, I will pray for rain.” You chuckled. “A flowerpot falling from the window sill would work just as well, more likely to happen too.”

“You see those condoms in the grass? We killed it tonight, Y/n. We killed our baby.” 

“Hey, it was good for me too, imbecile.”

“I’m just saying. It’s not hard to end a life.”

“There’s a big difference between killing the prom queen and busting into a condom.”

You both laugh as Peter finally starts getting dressed. 

“I guess I don’t know what I’m talking about. After all, there’s only one genius here.”

“I know exactly what the hell you’re talking about and you’re right, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Why don’t we just graduate, grow old and be adults, and then die?” 

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“But before we do that, I want to see Liz Allan spew chunks so we can call it even.”

_____________________

Tagged: @thewinchesterchronicles @spookyanairwin @audreylovespidey706 @asonofpeter​ @halparkebitch​

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[percedurza]

I HAVE ALREADY SPOKE ON LENGTH ABOUT THE PRINCE OF EGYPT BUT NOT THE WHOLE THING ONLY THE PLAGUES AND MOSTLY PASSOVER. I JUST WATCHED THE FULL MOVIE FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE I WAS A KID IM GONNA TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN BECAUSE IT WAS SO GOOD. OKAY.

okay let me first say that i was in tears within the first ten minutes of the movie. deliver us was so powerful and heartbreaking i cried BEFORE THE TEN MINUTE MARK. yeah.

when moses' mother sang her final lullaby to her son and pushed him downstream in that (blessed and very fortunate) basket my heart hurt. i cried with her. that was the last time she would ever see her baby.

when his sister sang her prayer for her baby brother, wishing for him to come back to deliver them as well, that just drove the nail in harder.

in a later scene before the banquet you can hear moses humming that last lullaby and since deliver us was just maybe ten minutes prior you remember it and realize he really did keep that final song.

and the banquet oh yeah ramesses gets appointed this big title? and he names moses as the grand architect

and theres this captured hebrew lady brought in for ramesses but shes fierce (i would be too, she was captured and brought to the people she hates the most) and so ramesses orders her to be brought to moses' chambers instead

moses goes to his chambers and suprise! she escaped! moses chases after and sees her sneaking out with her camel and distracts some guards so she wont get caught and once the guards are gone he goes after her again aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand

miriam (moses' sister) meeting him in the city streets and recognizing him, telling him he's her family and him shutting her down and calling her a slave.... it hurt. when she hums that lullaby and he RECOGNIZES and then rushes back home to have a dream about that day he was sent away (in beautiful animation designed to look like the hieroglyphs on his wall) its all so painful to watch him be forced out of nowhere to realize his life is a LIE because hes not a true prince of egypt, he's born of the slaves, and then his father the pharaoh justifies the order to slaughter innocent babies by saying "they were just slaves" and OUGH

moses kills a man. unintentional but he killed a man while trying to stop him from beating a slave. oops.

he cant live with this so he runs away into the desert. theres this scene where he collapses to the ground and sheds all of the jewelry and adornments from his life as royalty but as he takes off the ring ramesses gives him, he looks at it. and slowly puts it back on. because no matter what, he still loves his brother, and he always will.

moses falls into a well. yeah. chases off some ruffians and then basically faints and falls in. these girls the ruffians were harassing started pulling him out and SURPRISE SURPRISE the captured lady from the banquet is there and she drops him back in when she recognizes him and walks away all smug and her name is tzipporah! just an fyi (very pretty name love it)

moses basically gets adopted into the group of hebrews and moses says something about not ever having done anything of worth and so tzipporah's father jethro sings a little tune to him!

through heavens eyes is a masterpiece. i really dont know what else to say also i want jethro to be my dad hes so nice

aaanyway moses and tzipporah get married during the through heavens eyes montage! i just think thats nice

OKAY now juicy stuff the BURNING BUSH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the scene in which moses encounter the burning bush and god.

god claims that he has seen his people (the hebrew slaves) suffering and cannot stand for it any longer, so he wishes to send moses as a sort of ambassador of god

and moses doesnt think hes worthy of being god's messenger, which god quickly shuts up by pointing out how he's kind of, like, GOD

and he teaches moses those big old words, "LET MY PEOPLE GO" wahoo!!!!!!

he rushes home to tell tzipporah, and shes like "but ur just one dude" and hes like "well i kinda have to also the hebrews are suffering in slavery so :////"

tzipporah and moses head on over to meet ramesses and theyre all excited to see each other and then moses is like "behold the power of god!!!!!!" and his staff becomes a snake. pretty gnarly if i do say so myself

and then the high priests are like "ok" and start basically performing and rapping the names of the egyptian gods at moses in response i really dont know how to describe it but its basically a whole lotta smoke and mirrors. not actual miracles

moses talks to ramesses and asks him to let his people go, and instead doubles the slave's workload. the slaves basically hate moses now because yeah he technically is the reason theyre getting pushed harder and even his own brother aaron seems to loathe him. miriam talks to moses and he sees ramesses' ship gliding down the nile nearby

he calls out to ramesses and he just sends his guards after him. and so moses brings the staff down and turns the river to blood.

THEN THE REST OF THE PLAGUES ENSUE!!!

theres this specific part of the plagues scene in which ramesses stands between two statues of egyptian gods and glances at them as if to ask why the fuck arent they doing anything about the LITERAL hellfire and general havoc being brought down on the city. just thought that was a really cool detail.

AND OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH passover. i really shouldnt get excited about talking about an event that killed a whole heck ton of kids but its like fnaf at this point who cares ANYWAY THE DEAD KIDS

i already talked about the passover scene but what i didnt include (i think) is how when god's spirit or whatever idk enters the palace, it passes over a statue of ramesses and you just think, oh fuck wait RAMESSES HAD A SON.

and sure enough, that son is dead. moses walks in as ramesses pulls a sheet over his sons dead body and ramesses finally, after all of the plagues, tells moses he can take the hebrews and leave.

as moses walks away you can see ramesses glare at moses because he may have said he was done but. hes not. of course.

moses and the hebrews are leaving with yet another beautiful musical sequence (when you believe) and you can see the hordes of former slaves walking to the sea.

AAND just like i said RAMESSES WASNT FINISHED! he brings a whole bunch of soldiers on horseback and chases the hebrews, and god literally rains fire on them again this time in the form of a flaming tornado that sweeps across the sand, making a big old wall of fire that the egyptian soldiers cant get through

which gives moses the time to do the famous parting of the sea. he brings that staff down in the water and DOES GODS WONDERS!!! yay!!!

watching them walk on the seabed was beautiful. with some lightning strikes you could see the silhouette of some kind of shark swimming in the water (looked it up there are sometimes whale sharks in the red sea this is accurate)

and the fire tornado recedes into the earth, the fire fades, the soldiers chase on at ramesses' orders. the water sweeps them away just as the hebrews make it to the other side and it later cuts back to ramesses, alone on the rocky shore, screaming out at moses. hes completely alone, soldiers presumably dead, and no family to speak of. his side of the sea is cloudy and gloomy, still stormy, but when it jumps back to the hebrews in celebration, the sun shines bright and happy. the hebrews are free.

the movie ends with moses walking down the mountain sinai, ten commandments in hand, while the last snippet of deliver us plays once again.

only one other movie has evoked this much of this kind of emotion in me.(the one movie is klaus LMAO klaus made me ugly cry) there was not a single second of watching this that i didnt have goosebumps.

the movie itself just looks pretty. all of the characters have unique and neat designs. (its also nice to see a movie with only poc in it like im just saying)

the musical scores and numbers are so expertly made. my favorite has to be deliver us but through heavens eyes is a very close second. through heavens eyes made me feel better about myself, in a way. the entire movie was like some healing experience.

all in all, this is an S tier movie, and i BEG BEG BEG anyone who hasn't seen it to watch it. just pirate it or something (i did lol watched it on an illegal streaming site)

if you're not religious and havent seen it, think of it as a chance to learn more about abrahamic faiths. if you are religious and havent seen it, well hey! here you go!!

[thefanficdude]

The Winter Months: OCTOBER, Part 1

The wind blew through the barren trees, the only petals left from the previous season struggling to stay on their branches. The ground was no longer grass, but rather a medley of yellow, orange, and red leaves that fell from the looming forest above. The soft yet violent breeze was cold with a familiar change, yet it usually didn’t come this early. He knew this was all but good.

Wilbur walked back to the village, navigating through the masses of bark and stumps that were all too familiar to him. After all, this had been his home for his whole life. While on his way, the wind picked up and he adjusted his coat and hat to conserve heat. Leaves from the ground flew up into the air and created a swirl that could be described as a tornado of fall colours. The leaves wisped past Wilbur with the effortless force of the breeze. He watched them pass, admiring the beauty of the changing seasons while also knowing the winter would not be kind to him and his people. He continued to walk.

Eventually, he got to the town he called home. There were 8 buildings made of sticks, stones and mud, all designed to withstand the four seasons. 7 of the buildings were the houses of the 7 people that occupied this area, but the last building was the Community House, a place where they held meetings, discussed local issues, and planned their strategies for war (They were all generally peaceful people, but when threatened they were some of the best fighters in the land). Wilbur was making his way to the last, which was the biggest of the 8 and located right in the middle of the town. A voice stopped him before he could step through the door.

“Wilbur!” A young boy about 17 years old with golden hair ran towards him with a smile on his face.

“Tommy, right on time!” Wilbur said as Tommy slowed his pace and stopped in front of him. “I was just about to call a meeting. Round everyone up for me and tell them to meet here.” Tommy’s smile was replaced with a more serious tone.

“Is it about winter?” He asked. “We still have quite a while until snow comes. At least 8 weeks if I’ve been counting right.”

“You’ve been counting right,” Wilbur said. “But the leaves have fallen much quicker than normal and the air is getting colder every day, much more than it should.” Wilbur sighed, thinking about his next words. “Just get everybody to come as soon as possible, alright?”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll get everyone here in less than 5 minutes” Tommy said dismissively.

“Thank you,” Wilbur stepped inside the Community House as he heard Tommy’s footsteps run through the village.

There wasn’t a single soul Wilbur knew that was more stubborn and determined than Tommy. Sure, these traits often lead Tommy to most, if not all of his problems, but they were also his greatest strengths. When something needed to be done, Tommy was always the first one on the case, despite being the youngest out of everyone. Wilbur admired that about him. He wished he was like that when he was Tommy’s age.

Wilbur looked around the Community House, taking in everything about it; the nostalgic smell of the wood and charcoal, the mural painting that went all the way around the four walls, the chilled air inside, the-

Wilbur suddenly realized how cold it was inside. He looked at the fire pit in the center of it all with frustration. It would have to be lit sooner this year, maybe even tonight. Of all the seasons, winter was the one Wilbur hated the most because of how impossible living conditions were, let alone the sheer vulnerability and complete inability to fight. Being the leader of these people, he had to reassure everyone that everything was going to be ok, but in reality he was always on edge during the snowy months.

Wilbur looked up from the fire pit to the door, where the first resident silently stood in the frame.

“Will,” The resident stepped through the door, struggling to get his giant wings through the average-sized frame. “Tommy knocked on my door saying you were calling a meeting. If this is another prank of his, it’ll be the third time this month.” Wilbur chuckled.

“Keeping track, eh Phil?” Wilbur sat at the head of the Community House, right before the fire pit and directly across from the door. He gestured for Phil to sit. He did, tightly yet effortlessly folding his black wings behind him.

“Oh yeah, been keeping track since he was 10.” Phil said. “He’s always been a trickster, but at some point I decided to start keeping count. It’s been keeping me busy.” Wilbur nodded with a smile. It was true.

Philza was the wisest person Wilbur knew, and that wasn’t just bias because Phil was his father. Out of everyone Wilbur had ever met (and he met a lot of people), Phil was the one that taught him the most, from how to hunt and skin a deer, to how to flirt with the ladies. Regrettably, he was teaching all this wisdom and advice to Tommy since Wilbur had heard everything he had to say.

“What’s the meeting for this time?” Phil asked after a moment of silence. Wilbur snapped back to reality and realized he had been zoning out. He looked at Phil.

“I want to give all the details once everyone is here,” Wilbur said. “But it’s about the coming winter.” Phil nodded in understanding.

“Ah,” He said. And that was all. Phil was probably the only one who understood the stress Wilbur was under, for he was the leader of this town before Wilbur was. Usually a position of power is given to someone else when the current leader passes away, but Phil didn’t want to wait until his deathbed to teach Wilbur how to properly and successfully lead an army and protect his people. Instead, he retired from his position to teach Wilbur everything he knew. Many people, including himself and Wilbur, would agree that he did a good job raising a pretty awesome kid and leader.

“Tommy said there was a town meeting,” A young woman with pink hair came through the door and sat herself down on one of the benches.

“Yes, I told him to round everyone up for me,” Wilbur said. “I’m glad you could join us, Niki. I hope I didn’t disturb your baking.”

“No, you didn’t disturb me at all,” Niki said. “I actually just pulled a batch of muffins out of the oven. I put them by the window to cool right as Tommy knocked on my door.”

“Ah, perfect! Make sure to ration some of those for winter.” Wilbur said.

“Winter?” Niki asked. “Isn’t that still two months away?”

“...Well-”

“What flavour are the muffins?” Phil asked. Wilbur silently sighed and looked at Phil in thanks. He always somehow knew the right time to insert himself into the conversation.

“Blueberry. They were the last I had of what we picked this year. Any longer and they would’ve gone bad.”

“Good,” Phil said. “With winter coming into our sights soon, it's good to conserve food as much as possible. Those blueberries will last a little longer in those muffins.” Niki nodded.

“You’ll have to split one with me after the meeting.” Wilbur said, smiling at Niki.

“Of course!” Niki replied. “I’ll make sure to set aside the best one for you.”

Niki was the sweetest and kindest person Wilbur knew. You’ll never meet a more caring soul. She spent most of her time baking and making food for the whole village. It was mostly her work to make rations for winter. If it wasn’t for Niki, everyone would’ve died of hunger during the first snow.

“And you remembered to put out the fire in the oven this time, right?” Phil leaned his elbows on his knees and adjusted his wings. Niki gave a nervous laugh.

“Yes, yes!” Niki buried her face into her hands in embarrassment. “How could I forget after nearly burning down the whole village?”

“Hey, I already said don’t worry about that,” Wilbur said. “It was an honest mistake. And as the saying goes, ‘we learn from our mistakes’.”

“Yes, I recall you saying the exact same thing on that day.” Niki moved her hands down and rested her chin on them. The three of them laughed as they looked back on that day, which then was nearly a disaster, but now was just a funny story.

“Hey guys!” Another man entered the building. His hair was brown and curly, and he wore a navy blue dress that went all the way down to his ankles. Over the dress was a grey, light-weight jacket.

“Eret!” Wilbur greeted.

Eret was the plant-keeper. She didn’t want the title of a farmer because it sounded like he did more work than he actually did. So, his title was made the plant-keeper. During summer, he grew plants that grew various kinds of food, and that was when the plants most flourished. But during winter however, Eret had to do everything he could to make sure they were at the very least still alive for the next summer. It was a miracle if one or two of the plants could make a single serving of food during the snow.

“Welcome to the group! Stylish as always I see.” Niki said. Eret looked down at the dress he was wearing and gave a quick spin. The dress's thick fabric flew into the air effortlessly.

“Ah, ya know. I gotta present myself nicely to the plants.” Eret said, taking a seat beside Niki.

“Speaking of the plants, how’s the greenhouse going?” Wilbur asked. Eret copied Phil and rested his elbows on his knees.

“Very well, actually! Just a few more weeks with fall temperatures and we’ll be all set for winter.” Wilburs expression dropped. He cleared his throat.

“Has Tubbo been helping you?” He asked.

“Yes,” Eret replied. “He’s been a great help, especially with his ability. It’s made things move along much faster.”

“Good.” Wilbur said, folding his hands on his lap. “Once Tubbo gets here, I’ll discuss it further. He’s the only one left besides-”

Tommy burst through the door arguing with a boy who looked about the same age as him.

“What the fuck were you doing Tubbo!?” Tommy yelled.

“I was trying to get into his house! Meanwhile you were trying to burn his house down!” Tubbo yelled back.

“Yes because all he does is sleep all day and Wilbur told me to get everyone!”

“You were going to kill him Tommy!”

“Hey!” Wilbur stood up and everybody looked up at him. Tommy and Tubbo stopped fighting and stood still. “First of all, stop arguing with each other! Especially in the Community House! This is not a place to be joking around, do I make myself clear?” Tommy and Tubbo nodded, but Tommy was more hesitant. “Good. Second of all, Tubbo, explain what happened.”

“I was trying to-” Tommy began, but Wilbur put a hand up to stop him.

“I didn’t ask you.” Wilbur said calmly. “I asked Tubbo.” Tommy looked at the ground with the same energy as a 2 year old about to have a temper tantrum. Wilbur looked at Tubbo.

“Well,” Tubbo started. “Tommy knocked on my door saying a meeting was happening and that he was put in charge to tell everyone about it. I asked if there was anyone else he needed to visit and he said George. So I offered to come with him, just because.” Wilbur nodded. “We got to George's house, Tommy knocked, but nobody answered the door. A few more knocks, still no response, and Tommy started getting... impatient.”

“I was not-!” Tommy tried defending himself but Wilbur gave him a stern look that made him stop talking again. He looked back at Tubbo.

“So I proposed we could calmly go inside to see if he was ok, but Tommy interpreted that as ‘use my ability to cause the most amount of damage I can get away with’. I stopped him before he could do anything.” Of course he did, Wilbur thought with a sigh.

“Thank you for controlling him, Tubbo,” Wilbur said, sitting himself down again. “You two can have a seat.” Tubbo sat beside Phil, and Tommy sat beside Tubbo. Tommy was angrily mumbling to himself. “And Tommy, could you do me another favour,” Wilbur said. Tommy looked up, still pissed. “Would you mind lighting up the fire pit?” Tommy looked confused.

“What do you mean? It’s still October. We don’t light the pit until late November.”

“I said what I said. Light it, and I’ll explain.” Tommy rolled his eyes but did as he was told. With a flick of his wrist, sparks and flame emerged from his hand and engulfed the few pieces of wood and charcoal that remained from last year's winter. It wasn’t much, but there was enough fire there to heat up the building to a good room temperature. Wilbur cleared his throat.

“As you all know, it usually doesn’t snow until December. Late November at the earliest…” Wilbur looked around the room and could already see people's faces change as they realized what was happening. It wasn’t as hard as telling someone the news that someone they know has passed away, but it was still hard because it meant telling your loved ones that just simply surviving will be a lot harder this year. Wilbur continued speaking.

“And, as always, I’ve been taking weekly trips into the deep forest to examine the natural changes of the environment. This time around however…” Wilbur looked to Phil for support. Phil simply took a deep breath and gestured Wilbur to keep talking. Wilbur did exactly that. After a deep breath, he continued.

“It seems like the snow will be coming a lot sooner than other years.” Everyone had different reactions, but they all had one thing in common: worry. Everyone started either talking to themselves or the person beside them. And, as per the duty of any good leader, he needed to reassure them that everything was going to be ok, despite all the odds.

“But, I’ve already created some plans of what we can do to make sure this winter is just as good as the ones before.” Everyone looked up with intrigued and hopeful expressions. “However, it requires everybody's effort and ability.” Everyone nodded in agreement, and Wilbur was now hopeful himself.

“Firstly, Tubbo and Eret, the people on greenhouse duty.” Tubbo and Eret straightened and paid close attention. “Eret, you said with a few more weeks, the plants will be strong enough to withstand winter. However, I don’t think we have weeks. I predict we’ll have snow in the next 5 days.” Eret and Tubbo looked at each other with a common thought. How are we gonna pull this off?

“Tubbo, your ability is Earth, meaning you are especially knowledgeable about different types of dirt, fertilizers, and more. With the little time we have left, I’m requesting you find something that will make the plants grow faster to be prepared by next week.”

“Yes sir.” Tubbo replied.

“Eret, with your ability of light manipulation, I need you to store as much light as possible, more than what you normally prepare. With winter starting earlier, we should expect it to last longer too.”

“Of course.” Eret replied.

“Phil, if it starts snowing before the plants are ready, it’s your job to use your air ability for as long as you can to keep snow away from the greenhouse. And if it’s also possible, see if you can keep a piece of the sky cloud free so we don’t have to use up the stored light source right away.”

“Can do.” Phil replied, stretching his wings back.

“Niki and Tommy, I need you to scavenge for as much scrap food as possible. If you can find more ingredients for your baking Niki, even better. As I said before, we should expect this winter to last longer, so we need to prepare more.”

“Got it.” Niki replied.

“I have a question,” Tommy said. “By food scraps, do you mean like… dead rats and birds?” Wilbur sighed.

“Unfortunately, yes. But it will only be a last resort if we run out of our main rations.”

“Ugh, alright.” Tommy groaned. “Niki and I will be on the lookout for dead shit.”

“Fantastic.” Wilbur clapped his hands together and looked around the room. “Does everybody have a job?” Everybody collectively nodded, but Niki raised her hand.

“What about George?” She asked. “He isn’t here, so what’s his job?”

“Don’t worry about George.” Wilbur said. “Once dismissed, Phil and I will stop by his house.” Wilbur looked at Phil and he nodded. “Any other questions?” The room fell silent. “Alright, that’s that! Meeting dismissed.” Everyone stood up from their seats and started making their way to the door. Tubbo and Eret went to each other to discuss their job, as did Niki and Tommy. Wilbur and Phil were left alone in the Community House together.

“What do you have in mind for George?” Phil asked. Wilbur sighed as he got up from the bench.

“Well, because George doesn’t have an ability like the rest of us, his job will be a little easier, but just as important. He’ll be in charge of making sure the pathways and trails in the town and forest are clean before the snow comes. And when the snow does come, I’ll have him help shovel the snow off the roads.” Wilbur made his way to the door and turned to wait for Phil, who was only getting up now.

“Makes sense,” Phil said. “But why do you need me?” Wilbur and Phil started walking through the town.

“You’re aware of what my ability is, right?” Wilbur asked.

“Of course, mind reading. It was a big problem when you were younger, you know. I could never keep a secret.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Wilbur laughed. “But I’ve been noticing George has been missing more and more meetings due to his ‘sleep schedule’.”

“And you think it's not just that?”

“Yes.”

“But what else could he possibly be doing?”

“I never like to assume. I need more proof first.” Wilbur and Phil stopped in front of a house with red accents. One could say it looked like a mushroom house, a little home for fairies.

Wilbur knocked on the door with enough force that if anybody was sleeping, they definitely would have woken up.

“George!” Wilbur yelled. “Wake up! I got a job for you!” No response. Phil came up to the door.

“George!” Phil knocked harder than Wilbur did. Still no response.

“We need to go in.” Wilbur said. He turned the door handle, but it stopped with a sudden halt. “It’s locked.”

“Here, let me try.” Phil stepped in front of the door and took a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, his foot was floating in an open doorway. Phil calmly walked in. Wilbur stood outside in confusion for a moment, but stepped in soon after.

“George!” Wilbur called again. The main area of the house, which was the kitchen and living area, was empty. The only other place in the house was his bedroom. Wilbur slowly opened the door.

George’s bedroom was actually quite nice. A small, quaint room with shelves filled with antiques and found treasures and a bed with a red and white dotted blanket. The blanket was not flat though. There was something under it.

“George!” Wilbur went into the room and came beside the bed. Phil came through the door and watched. “George! How heavy of a sleeper are you, man?” Wilbur stripped the blankets off the bed. It wasn’t George under the sheets. It was a pile of pillows made to look like a human.

Wilbur looked at Phil.

They both knew.

~~~

George’s cloak caught on the barren branches as he ran blindly through the thick forest. He was used to having a trail to guide him, or a map at the very least, but not this time. The place he wanted to go was only marked as no-man's-land on all the maps he’d seen. He was headed in the general direction, but he didn’t have a specific route to follow. So blindly he ran, his cloak being wrecked and snagged by the trees around him.

Unlike the others, George didn’t have a power, or an ability as they called it. He was just a normal guy, and all he wanted was a life of luxury and peace. George always felt he was belittled and not taken seriously enough when living in Wilburs town. He was seen as the weak one. The useless one. The burden that others were forced to carry on their shoulders. So he went to the only other place he knew. To the people Wilbur constantly worried about. Wilbur was going to worry about George now, but not in the way of pity. For the first time in his life, George understood what power felt like.

It didn’t last long.

George stopped in his tracks when he heard a rustle in the bush beside him.

“Hello?” George said, creeping towards the bush. “Who’s there?” An arrow burst through the leaves, stopping only mere inches away from George’s throat. The person holding the bow emerged from the shrubbery, not taking his eyes off George.

“State your business.” The man with the bow said. George was still in shock from the life-or-death situation he found himself in, he was unable to speak. “Now!” He said. “Before I shoot this right into your throat!”

“Ok, ok!” George put his hands up for the man to see. “I’ve come to visit your leader. I have no weapons or ill intentions. I just want to talk.” The man slightly lowered his bow and looked at George’s face more carefully.

“...George?” Unfortunately, George was pretty oblivious most of the time.

“...yes?” He responded. A smile came across the man's face and he dropped his bow to give George a hug.

“George!” The man pulled away. “It’s me! Fundy!”

“Fundy?” George hadn’t seen Fundy since he was a small child. Wilbur would put George in charge of babysitting him when everyone else was busy. But now that he heard the name, George saw it: the fox-obsessed boy that could talk to animals. “Fundy! Oh my god! How are you?”

“Ah, well, surviving like everyone else.” Fundy said, picking up his bow again. “How about you?”

“About the same, I guess.” George said. “But I’m trying to look for a better place where I can live my life.” Fundy became skeptical.

“Did Wilbur send you? Is this some sort of way for him to get information on us?”

“No,” George replied. “Nobody knows I’m here, but nobody would care if I was gone either. That’s why I want to talk to your leader.” Fundy thought about it for a moment.

“You would have to be checked for weapons.” Fundy said.

“That’s fine.”

“You would have to be escorted by as many guards as they see fit.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Fundy walked George through the forest until they got to a town, but it was nothing like Wilbur’s. There were many more buildings, all of them bigger than the ones back home. They were made of concrete bricks instead of sticks and stones. It was better than George could’ve ever imagined.

A resident saw George and Fundy and ran towards them.

“Fundy,” He said. “What’s going on?”

“He’s requested to see the leader.” Fundy gestured to George. “I already checked for weapons.”

“And?”

“None, Technoblade. George said he just wanted to talk with him and nothing more.” Technoblade thought for a moment and then called for some more people. He looked back at George and Fundy.

“You may take… George, you said?” Fundy nodded. “You may take George to see him with two other guards. If anything goes wrong, it’ll go on your record.” Two other men came up beside George while Fundy took the front.

“Yes sir.” Fundy said, leading George to what looked like their version of the Community House.

It was a large building, possibly bigger than all of Wilbur’s buildings combined. It looked old and tested by nature, but it still held strong. Fundy, George, and the two other guards went in.

Large fire-lit torches hung on the walls inside the giant building, and in the center was a table that took up most of the building. Strewn on it were maps, weapons, and small bottles of god-knows-what. George didn’t dare ask what it was.

At the head of this table was the man George was looking for. He stood hunched over a piece of paper on the table with a quill in hand. Even without doing anything, his presence was the scariest thing George had ever witnessed.

“Sir,” Fundy stepped forward. “There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.” The man at the table looked up and straightened to get a better look. Suddenly what looked like a 4 foot tall dwarf was a 6 foot tall warrior. George’s throat tightened.

“Is that so?” With the quill still in his hand, he walked over to George. “What’s your name?”

“G-George.” He stammered out. The man with the quill raised a brow as he stopped in front of George, just inches away from him.

“You’re from the other side of the forest, right?” He stroked the underside of George’s chin with the soft feather which made George instinctively look up at him. “That’s a long way, especially for a one-man army.”

“No, you’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t come to fight. I have no weapons, I…” George swallowed as the man leaned in closer. “I’d like to offer my services to you.” George said.

“I want to join you, Dream.”

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

𝘚𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘝𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Hi, so I wrote a story. Well, the first chapter of a story. I hope that you guys enjoy. And thanks to Admin Ko and Brando for helping with the production~~and for future help~~

Tags/warnings: nothing as of right now, but that will change once more chapters come out, but for now- MATURE AS FUCK.

Next~

Enjoy!

>Admin 𝕋

꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙

The sound of bass boomed through the club, bodies of all sizes grinding against each other, sweat coming off them in waves. But none of them paid it much mind, too immersed in the music to care. A typical Saturday night, where crowds of people came together from all kinds of backgrounds to forget about their daily hardships and just have fun. But, this wasn’t any old club with just music and booze. No, this was a mix of burlesque, stripping, and clubbing. Audiences will come and enjoy themselves, but in the back of their heads, if known, they’ll be waiting for the real show to begin. 

“Welcome, ladies, gentlemen, and those who are neither! This is the place for dreams to come true and where your wishes become realized! For the regulars, I hope you appreciate another wonderful show by our amazing dancers, and for anyone who’s new here--” a pause of anticipation rang out into the crowd, “welcome to Silent Voices.” 

꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙

Chapter 1: Meetings and Regulations

⸻

The apartment was quiet and serene, perfect for getting that extra five minutes of sleep. The young woman didn’t care about that however, and she pulled open the curtains, letting the morning sun pour in. Hands on her hips, she turned around to face the lump on her couch.

“You know,” the brunette scolded, pulling the blanket off of (y/n) in one quick motion, “you are going to be late if you don’t get going now. And look, you aren’t dressed or anything.” The sudden brightness startled (y/n), making her groan into the couch. 

“Please let me just, not go to work for once. Maybe a tornado will come and sweep me off to a place where magic exists.” (y/n) begged, unmoving from her face down position.

“Okay, this isn’t Kansas, and there is no magic, so you better get up and go. To work. Before you get fired.” (y/n) groaned again, louder this time, and kicked her feet onto the floor. She stood slowly, stretching and offering her friend a confident smirk. 

“You and I both know that they wouldn’t fire me. I am the best they have.”

“Uhuh, sure, whatever you say. Just hurry it up already.” Exhaling a defeated sigh, (y/n) walked to the front door, grabbing her shoes. As she put them on, her beloved friend tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to turn around and come face to face with a blueberry muffin.

“Oh, how nutritious, a blueberry muffin. With blueberries. And muffin.”

“I swear to god if you don’t take this muffin, I will make you eat it right here and now. Also, you didn’t get dressed--”

“I am already dressed.”

“In your pajamas!”

“Yeah, well, I am going to get dressed again when I get there so there really is no point in wearing actual clothes.” (y/n) argued, smirking in victory when she saw the look of exasperation on her friend’s face.

“You-- I-- ugh-- I hate the fact that you aren’t wrong. Whatever, do what you want. Take your muffin and get out of my house.” Her friend shouted, pushing her through the front door of the apartment, (y/n)’s shoes not even fully tied. “And you better have a fantastic day!” She added with an affection yet oddly strong door slam.

“Thanks Uraraka, you too.” She responded, giggling at her best friend's aggressive affection. Biting the top of her muffin, (y/n) set out of the apartment complex. She looked up at the sky, clear and blue and beautiful, a perfect day for a walk. She had a car she could take, but the bus stop was right there and her job was just a few stops away. Also it would be much better to save the gas money for more important things, she thought. After the moment of silent contemplation, (y/n) walked to the bus stop. She sat at the small bench, but she didn’t have much time to relax. Like clockwork, the vehicle came driving up the street and came to a slow stop, opening its doors to let her in. (y/n) stepped into the familiar, slightly too air conditioned vehicle and surveyed the scene. There weren’t many people on board today, save for: a couple of old people sitting next to each other, seemingly to be together, a mother and her child who was sleeping in her arms, a middle aged man who looked like he just wanted to go into a coma (relatable), and a man about her age sitting where she usually sat, staring out the window with the hardest glare she had ever seen.

Not to exaggerate, but he had to be the world’s angriest looking man. Even his hair looked angry, the blonde spiky updo adding to his already fearsome physique. And the worst part was, he was sitting in her favorite spot on the bus, where the sun hit the window just right to give her some warmth in the cold winters. As much as she wanted to stomp over to him and tell him to move, he would probably murder her without regret, and (y/n) really didn’t need death today. So, as any sane person would do, she sat down in the very back, far away from the scary looking man. She shot a subtle glare to the man, still grumbling about her spot. He turned his head just in time to lock eyes with her for a brief second, (y/n) jumped slightly, turning her head as fast as possible the opposite direction to avoid his gaze. She sighed, already exhausted.

(y/n) gently rested her head against the wall of the bus. Life wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. She was supposed to have a career that paid her six figures. She was supposed to be a CEO of a renowned company and shoving it in the faces of those that thought she wouldn’t make it big in the world. But, as life would have it, here she was. Living on her best friend’s couch, thousands of dollars in debt, and nowhere near where she wants to be.

Well, at least I am making a decent amount of money and looking good doing it, she thought, stepping out of the bus. (y/n) shook the tension out of her shoulders and set forth to her destination. Like the walk from the apartment to the bus, this one wasn’t very far either, just a couple blocks away and she would be where she needed to be. She playfully inspected the scenery of the neighborhood, being so familiar with the area that she could walk there in her sleep. Most of the time, however, nobody was in this part of town at this time of day, but this time, someone was going in the same direction as her. 

Trying her best to remain calm and collected, (y/n) took a quick peek behind her to see who was following her. To her surprise, it was the same angry guy from the bus, his hands in his pockets and the same scowl on his face. It seemed that he was going in the same direction as her. It even seemed like he was...Staring at her. Probably her imagination. But those red eyes of his felt like they were glaring daggers into her back.

What if he wanted to kill her? Or worse, try to have a light conversation with her? She shuddered from the thought of it. Picking up her pace, (y/n) shoved her hands in her pockets and gripped the little can of pepper spray that was latched on her keychain and kept an eye on the man behind her.

He was even more suspicious, the blond man now speed walking, getting closer and closer to her. She knew these streets weren’t the best, but seriously? He couldn't kill her in a more clean place, but whatever, right? Since when did murderers have standards? Never. 

But instead of giving in to her fate, she saw the doors to her workplace. Looking back, (y/n) stopped in her tracks, almost colliding with the stranger-- who was surprised she stopped and couldn’t stop himself from his fast pace-- and promptly kicked him in the crotch area, effectively ceasing his chase. “Hey fuckface, learn some decorum and method before trying to kill someone or you’ll never be a good murderer!” she yelled before opening the doors to Silent Voices and quickly walking in.

Shutting the large doors before her, (y/n) let out an anxious breath, proud of herself for standing up to a stalker or murder. “Didn’t think I had it in me…”

“Didn’t think you had what in you?” 

“Gah! Kirishima! Where did you come from!?” the girl shouted. The man, Kirishima, chuckled and shook his head. 

“I came from the break room. I was actually just about to call you. Nemuri is pissed, and I really think you should go pray.” Kirishima told her, to which (y/n) grunted and hit her head against the door she was leaning on.

“Of course she is. I’m like, five minutes late, and she hates when people are late.”

“Yeah, so why were you late?” Her friend asked, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

“I woke up late and had to eat a muffin.” that was all she was going to disclose. As much as she would love to tell him about the crazy stalker that was following her, Kirishima was a bit too protective, so she decided not to say anything. Hopefully, it doesn’t bite her in the ass. 

“I see. Well, that isn’t going to work for her, so might as well count your blessings while you still have them!” Kirishima exclaimed, “Now if you could move from the doors, I have to go out and set up before we open.”

Moving from the mentioned entrance, (y/n) gave Kirishima a goodbye high five and started towards the break room, where she knew she was going to get eaten alive. Going to the very back of the club, where only employees are allowed, (y/n) pushed the bead curtain out of the way and saw Nemuri--or Midnight, as she likes to be called-- standing in the middle of the room, with the other dancers already getting ready for the opening. The gorgeous choreographer was obviously angry at (y/n), her arms crossed over her chest and her brows furrowed in irritation. “Hey. I know I’m late and I’m sorry I--”

“Nope! I don’t want to hear excuses! Do you know how important this night is, (y/n)?!” Nemuri exclaimed, glaring harshly. “Tonight is the night you finally get to do your solo! The one I choreographed specifically for you! And it’s great!”

“It is, and I am so appreciative that you did that--”

“You better be!” There was a moment of silence between them before the older woman huffed out a breath and uncrossed her arms, adjusting her uniform. “I’m glad you made it, just in time. But next time, do. Not. Be. Late.” she warned before walking off to talk to the stage manager. (y/n) sighed, guilt weighing on her shoulders as she walked to her personal vanity. She set down her belongings on the chair and groaned. 

“You doing okay?” one of the other dancers asked-- Mina-- asked. She was clad in a skintight black dress, showing off her assets beautifully, her hair in curls and her makeup was dark and seductive. It seemed she was all ready to go. Probably since she is the first act. 

“Yeah I’m. Fine. Just late, overslept and all that.” (y/n) explained, pushing her bag to the floor and sitting down. She then opened her makeup box, taking the needed appliances that would compliment tonight’s costume. 

“That happens to all of us! So, don’t look so down! Here, let me do your makeup for you, so you can just rest for a bit.” Mina said, taking the foundation away from (y/n) started to apply it for her. 

“Thanks, Mina. I have been a bit more tired lately.”

“Don’t mention it. We gotta stick together, keep each other happy! Isn’t that right?”

“You got that right.” (y/n) laughed, closing her to let Mina do some of her makeup magic. It didn’t take very long, seeing as Mina was one of the best with makeup, and soon enough she was done.

“Okay, look in the mirror and tell me what you think!” blinking her eyes open and shifting her weight to look into the mirror, amazed at how well Mina did her makeup. She didn’t look like a different person, but the makeup did enhance her features for the better, and it felt great. 

“Wow, it looks great. Thanks so much, I would’ve messed up so bad.” she said to Mina, who giggled and patted her shoulder.

“Anytime. I’m gonna go up to the stage and get some practice in before we open.”

“Don’t slip on the pole!”

“Like hell I will!” 

(y/n) chuckled and got up from her vanity to put her costume on. It was a sparkling blue bikini that only covered the important bits. What one would expect from a strip club. At least there was a long silky robe with a fake fur lining, so it wasn’t that bad to walk around in it. Putting on the bikini like attire, (y/n) decided to just put her hair in a ponytail and spritzed some perfume on to complete the image. “Welp, I hope this is good enough because I am not in the mood to do anything extra.” she told herself, moving to the exit to leave the break room and headed toward the bar. “Todoroki, do me a favor and get me a shot of tequila. Maybe four. I don’t want to remember tonight.”

“I’ll give you one, and a glass of water.” the bartender responded, making (y/n) groan in indignation. 

“Fine, whatever.”

“What’s up with you?”

“Ugh, why does everyone keep asking me that!” she shouted, hitting her head against the table of the bar. “Sorry for yelling.”

“It’s all good.” Todoroki muttered, amused by her exasperation, though his face didn’t show it. 

“It’s just--I woke up on time for work, but I didn’t want to come, but I need the money. So I got my happy ass up and walked to the bus stop, which was all fine and dandy, the sun was out and it was bright and warm; great for a walk--” she inhaled to continue-- “but I saw a really weird guy with really spiky blond hair and big fucking muscles and a glare that could practically kill someone. He got off the same stop as me and started to follow me and it was really creepy--”

“By creepy guy, do you mean that one?” 

“Oh yeah, him! Anyways--” she stopped mid sentence, and turned back again to look at the man Kirishima had brought into the club. “Oh my god, it’s the creepy murder guy.” she whispered, to which Todoroki heard.

“The what?”

“That’s the creepy murder guy that I kicked in the crotch before I got here.”

“You did what?!” Todoroki’s shout of astonishment caught the attention of Kirishima and the blond man, and the way the stranger went from “What the hell was that,” to “Oh, it’s the person the kicked me in the balls,” was astounding for (y/n) to see. And (y/n) did nothing as she watched him move straight from the entrance to the club, dodging all the tables, until he was right in her personal bubble, taking her by the robe and scrunching it up. His eyes held murder and his fist was way too close to her throat.

With a low, menacing-- albeit kind of attractive-- voice, he muttered, “You.” 

Yeah.

It bit her in the ass.

[bramblepeltao3]

Hey why am I still doing this?? This has become my ‘just for fun’ little thing I go to when I’ve finished doing all the other writing stuff! And it’s become just stupid fun for me.

So then, on to more Prince Prompto AU of my AU fic specifically!

Prompto felt his heartbeat quicken. They were here. Facing the Lucian royal family. He, as the Prince, stood at the front of the procession. He knew what he was supposed to do. He practiced several times on the train ride over, and he got it perfect a couple of times. He could do this.

Prompto bowed slightly towards King Regis and Prince Noctis. “The Empire of Niflheim thanks you for your hospitality. We hope that with this extension of good will, we can forge a future of peace and prosperity between our nations.” Nailed it. Prompto stood back up, perhaps a bit too quickly, and saw a look of humor on Noctis’ face.

….did he mess up? Did he say something wrong and sound stupid? Was his shirt on inside out?!

Prince Noctis took a few steps forward, closing the distance between them.

“Nice to finally meet you.” He said, extending his hand. 

Prompto felt his face flush. This was...less than formal. Not as he was coached to expect. He offered his hand as well, and Noctis quickly took it with a crooked smile. There was applause from behind, the crowd of Insomnians who had come to see the display were cheering but they sounded so very far away. It felt like it was just them. Prince Noctis and himself.

He didn’t deserve to be here. His ears began to pound with the sound of his pulse. The King was saying something, Prompto couldn’t hear it. His throat suddenly felt very dry and he wanted nothing more than to reach out to Doctor Del and ask for help. Make the dizziness and nausea and hotness on his cheeks go away.

“See you at the party, then.” Prince Noctis said with a wave, turning and following his father back into the palace.

“Good job, Shortcake.” Aranea was then at his side.

Oh. It was over. He did it? He turned to see the others, hoping for further validation of his success.

Loqi was standing at attention, no sign of approval or disappointment on his face. And Del was...angry?

“No one said anything about a party.” She sneered.

“Awe, what’s wrong lemon tart, didn’t bring a ball gown?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure a doctor isn’t important enough to be in attendance.”

“Not a doctor, perhaps.” Loqi said, in a very strange way.

“I’d really like it if we could all be there!” Prompto found himself saying out loud by accident. It was true. He needed everyone he could get to stay by his side. “I mean, I bet the dinner will be really good. I’d hate for anyone to miss it.”

Del’s face softened with a smile. “Of course we’ll all be there, Prompto.”

“Guess we’re going dress shopping then.” Aranea shrugged. “You boys are lucky, you can get away with your military and royal regalia. Us girls tend to be held to a higher standard.”

“Yeah, I’m not-”

“Hey you, you look like someone who knows things.” Aranea pointed at a young, well dressed man. “Where can a girl get a party dress around here?”

Prompto’s mind was flooded with his crash course in etiquette and felt himself jumping into damage control.

“My apologies for my shield, Sir.”

The young man smiled, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and nodded. “Ignis Scientia, royal advisor to Prince Noctis. No need for apologies, your grace.” Prompto felt his throat close up. How many ways could they possibly mess this up before they were all kicked out in shame?

Ignis turned to Aranea and Del. “If you’re looking for a gown for this evening’s event, I know the perfect establishment of tailors who are more than capable. Allow me to call you a car.”

“Commodore, Doctor, I will happily esco-”

“No way, Loqi.” Del frowned.

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere. You need to stay here with the Prince and make sure he doesn’t trip on his shoelaces or something.” Aranea emphasized her point with a harsh stab of her finger to Loqi’s head.

“But...these boots don’t even have laces…” Prompto said, looking down to check just in case.

Ignis hung up his cellular phone and approached their little party once again. “Ladies, I have informed your escort where to take you. And should you wish to see any other parts of our lovely city, please feel free. You are in safe hands.”

The advisor bowed to them, then Prompto, and left with a smile.

He seemed nice. Prompto hoped he’d be there this evening as well.

“...why didn’t you yell at him?” Loqi asked. “He addressed you as ladies! Aren’t you-”

“Oh put a sock in it Loqi.” Del rolled her eyes.

“It’s different. Obviously.” Aranea said with a smirk.

A shiny black car pulled around and stopped by the curb.

“Looks like our ride, Doc.” Aranea coiled her arm around Del’s, pulling her towards the vehicle. “You boys be good! Auntie Nea and Auntie Del will be back soon!”

Prompto watched in stunned silence as Aranea dragged his doctor into the back seat of the car, the door shutting behind them. He hoped they’d have fun. They both worked so hard for him, they deserved a break. And pretty dresses.

---

Cor really should have seen this coming, but somehow he was still blindsided. Scientia called asking for a high security escort for two of the Imperial diplomats. Well, it didn’t get more high security than the Marshal. And with the flurry of preparations and excitement, he needed a moment away to refocus. 

An hour to drive a couple of diplomats to some store downtown, wait in the car, and drive them back. Easy.

Easy until he took a look in the rearview mirror and immediately recognized the blonde woman sitting right behind him. She was scowling, exactly like he remembered her.

“Awe come on lemon tart-”

“Quit calling me that!”

“Doctor tart then, listen, I know you’ve never been involved in politics before but if you’re planning on staying by Shortcake’s side it’s time to get used to it.”

“I’m just a doctor.”

“And tonight you’re a doctor in a fancy dress charming all the eligible bachelors Lucis has to offer.” The other woman seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in needling her.

Brave of her, that.

“Speaking of, I’m not seeing a ring on our escort’s finger.” 

Oh she was very brave. And just as much a pain.

“Aranea, leave him alone.”

“What’s your story, Driver? Excited to watch two young women play dress up?”

“ARANEA!”

“We’re here.” Cor said, thanking the Astrals for the small blessing. He was ready to simply sit there quietly, wait for them to finish their shopping, and hope the tinted windows did their job. But then he just had to take one more look into the rearview mirror, and there was that little girl’s face again. Looking scared, just like she did the last time he saw her.

Shit.

Just rip the bandage off, it was going to happen eventually. Best to get it out of the way somewhere far away from the paparazzi.

Cor stepped out of the car and opened the rear door, standing with all the respect he’d show to any important guest of the crown.

Del stood up, looked at the store, and then a tree planted in the middle of the sidewalk, then the sky before looking up at him.

For a moment her face didn’t change. Then realization must have struck, because her eyes went wide. And her brow furrowed. And her shoulders raised up.

“Quit dragging your feet, Doc, the longer you mope the longer this’ll take.” Aranea dragged her away and into the store before she had a chance to start screaming. “Wow your face got red. I mean sure he’s hot, but he’s twice your age. You can do better.”

He followed them in. If nothing else he needed to make sure this place was genuinely secure. There were whispers of citizens not too happy with the possibility of getting chummy with Niflheim. The last thing Reggie needed was an international incident right on the precipice of treaty negotiations.

Cor stood at attention next to the door, watching as young sales people hungry for a commission off the royal account bombarded the two women with measuring tape and color swatches. Del looked like she was in hell. His presence probably wasn’t helping the matter.

Aranea was the first to emerge from the fabric tornado, sporting something barely meeting the dress code as it barely contained fabric. 

“Hey flaunt it while you still got it, right Doc?” She called back to the other changing room as a young man showed her jeweled accessory pieces. “You’re being awfully quiet, you know?” 

“And you’re being awfully obnoxious!” Del screeched, pulling the curtain back. “No I don’t need shapewear, what the fuck is that? I’ll wear whatever shape I have, fuck.” She was wearing a very sensible green gown.

“Awe look at you, Lemon Tart, so modest. So practical. No fun.”

“Yeah I guess you can call what you’ve got going on fun.”

“What do you think, Mr. Driver?” Aranea grabbed Del around the shoulders, pulling her right next to her side so they were both facing him. “Think she’ll be the belle of the ball?”

Del was staring at the floor with a fierce determination.

“No comment? Smart guy.” Aranea chuckled.

Cor moved his gaze over to a tailor sewing glittering embellishments to a bright pink gown. It looked like something meant for a very young girl. Incredibly gaudy. One of the small rubies fell from the dress.

...but it stopped. And moved-

It wasn’t a gem.

“Get down!” He yelled, rushing the two women and forcing them to the ground right as he heard the glass window shatter and two of the sales clerks scream.

“Shit.” Aranea’s eyes darted around, seeming to be searching for the gunman based on the trajectory of the bullet that barely missed them. 

Cor opened the emergency channel on his ear piece. “Coyote on 3rd and Grace Street. I have two ducklings unharmed and a store full of civilians. Requiring backup.” 

“Heard, Red Drake. Backup en route.”

“Ducklings? Really?” The older woman joked, helping him drag the trembling doctor behind a sales counter as another shot went off.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t come up with the system.” That was all Reggie. 

“What’s the plan, Driver? Cause unless our killer is a gold medal sprinter it looks like there’s at least two of them. If we stay here we’re sitting duck- oh, I get it. Funny. Doc you’ve gotta pull yourself together.”

Cor looked down at Del who was folded in on herself, hands grasping through her own hair and trembling.

“Hey, kid.” He said, gripping her shoulder. She looked up at him, terror naked in her eyes. “You’re going to be okay. I’m getting you out of here.”

The irony of his words were not lost on him.

The store manager joined them, removing her jacket and rolling up her sleeves. “There’s an emergency exit through the break room, it leads into the same hallway as the other stores. There’s an elevator too, goes all the way to the roof.” She gestured for them to follow, taking cover behind clothing racks and display cases. 

“Sounds like you’ve done this before.” Cor commented.

She chuckled. “I’ve worked here for decades, since I was a teenage sales clerk, I have seen some shit.”

Cor made a note to make sure she was commended officially for it.

The break room door slammed shut once everyone was safely inside. The manager, who introduced herself as Marigold, got to work moving the table in front of the door.

“What are the chances our killers know about the access hallway?” Cor asked, helping with the barricade.

“It’s there specifically so the clientele don’t have to think about us as people who have lives outside of their consumer needs.” One of the men said. “So unless they work in one of these shops, unlikely.”

“Not like we planned ahead to be here, either.” Aranea offered. “In fact...the only person who would’ve known we were here was that Ignis guy.”

“Scientia? If he had a stake in extending the war he has a funny way of showing it.” No one was closer to the Prince than his advisor, and a war running into Noctis’ reign would bring him nothing but pain. “More likely someone’s been following since you arrived and waited for their chance.”

“Shit, this glass is really stuck.” A very young woman cried out, trying to pull a large shard from her arm.

Del immediately snapped out of her panic and rushed over to her. “Please tell me there’s a first aid kit in here.” She took the woman’s arm, shooing her hand away from pulling at the glass. 

“Just one, and it’s very old…” The male sales clerk got the white box from a cabinet and handed it to her.

“As long as there’s tweezers and gauze, I’m good.”

“Oh wow, you’re actually a doctor.” Marigold laughed. 

“I’m going to check the hallway, make sure no one’s waiting for us.” Cor reached into Reggie’s armiger, choosing a pistol in place of his blade. He opened the door.

“Cor!” Del yelled, gripping a bandage to the girl’s arm. Her green dress was covered in blood stains that most assuredly would never come out. “Don’t you-”

“I’m coming back, Del.” He said flatly. Maybe don’t run off anywhere this time.

The hallway was well lit with hard flooring. After several minutes of no shadows or footsteps, Cor was satisfied.

He turned his ear piece on. “Status update.” He whispered.

“One coyote down, two confirmed on the run.”

“Can we get an evac on the roof?”

“Negative, Red Drake, too many rocks in the pond, stay put until cleared.”

The door behind him creaked open, Aranea slipping through.

“Not sounding like good news there, Driver.”

“Listen, I have two ducklings and four civilians that need to get to safety. Send an eagle to the roof of the Statler building for immediate evac. That’s an order.” Cor switched off the receiver.

Aranea’s face fell into a look of suspicion. “Funny, on our way in I could have sworn I saw the word Nelson.”

“You did. It’s a decoy.” He tapped his earpiece. “If I’m right, our assassins are tapping our communications. They’ll think we transferred to the building next door and wait for us there. In the meantime, we’re taking the elevator to the fifth floor. There’s a walkway connection to the fine arts center. From there we make our way to the auditorium.”

“Oh? And then what?”

Cor smirked. “Dress rehearsal.”

---

Somehow, some way, the piece of absolute stupid idiot garbage got them out. And thank the Gods too, because Del wasn’t sure how to say the girl needed a hospital. The bandage was only doing so much and it wouldn’t be long before her wound bled through.

Cor flashed his fancy badge, got them into the costume room, and for the second time that day Del was forced to play dress up. This time with hats and wigs! Fun!

She was fuming. Having to rely on him again...after what he did? And he had the absolute balls to say “I’m coming back.” Like?! 

Fuck him. He was an even bigger dickhead than she’d remembered. And she remembered everything so that was a hell of a feat.

“Oh, a shame. This was my personal pride of the season.” Marigold sighed, holding the ruined green dress.

“Send the bill to the Citadel, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Think there’s anything you can lend out for a royal ball in six hours?” The asshole moron asked.

“Seriously?!” Del screeched after finishing getting into a weirdly form fitting newsboy costume. “Some fuckos just tried to put a bullet in our heads and you expect us to go mingle with canapes like nothing happened?”

“What did I say, Doctor Tart? Politics. Get used to it.” Aranea was somehow completely cool headed in some gaudy bright retro outfit.

“Nothing about this can get out, the last thing we need is any more tremors in this shaky situation.” Fuckhead McGee said.

“Understood. Shame about that armed robbery in our store.” Marigold shrugged her shoulders like it was nothing. 

She looked at her staff who all nodded in agreement.

“Are you all batshit?!” Del screamed. “We’re supposed to act like that wasn’t an assassination attempt on our lives?”

“Delphia, listen to me.” Aranea took her shoulder and turned to face her. “We both want the same thing: to protect Prompto. Anything less than a perfect visit is only going to raise tensions for both sides. Not to mention, Prompto would freak if he knew we were almost killed. So here’s our story: Driver got lost on the way to the boutique. The robbery happened before we arrived, and the guard went overboard in trying to protect us. We’re wearing dresses from the robbed store tonight to show our support and hope for the business to recover.”

“You’ve done this before.” Shithead said.

“I’ve had a lot of free time to read spy thrillers.” Aranea replied coolly.

“I’m sure I have some perfectly exquisite pieces in my personal collection that should fit. Ooh, we could advertise a throwback collection for the fall!” Marigold cheered.

“YOU! YOU...YOU YOU…” Del pointed at Aranea, feeling completely unable to voice any of the thoughts screeching around in her head.

“Del, please calm down, the people responsible will be taken care-”

That was it. She spun around and slapped the Marshal across the face.

“YOU DON’T GET TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!” You lying shitty child abandoning piece of enabling gods damned shit fuck ass bastard!

He seemed unphased by her attack. Aranea though looked like Del had just kicked an innocent puppy into an oncoming train.

“Alright. Get it out.” He said. 

Oh, she was done. Completely fucking done. He just shows up, acts like the big fucking hero, pretends like he didn’t ditch her, and then dictates the terms of her emotional breakdown?!

Fuck.

This.

“Fuck you.” She said, emphasizing her point with a finger in the air.

Cor nodded. “We’re going to take the front entrance, it leads out to a courtyard. Plenty of trees, bushes, a large pool down the middle, and lots of cover. We make it across the courtyard and we’ll be on a Crownsguard HQ doorstep. I’ll have a better grasp of the situation, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

The nerve. The fucking nerve.

“Come on Newsie, Prompto needs you.” Aranea took her by the arm.

“Were the accessories really necessary?” Del asked, noticing the fishnet gloves, knee socks, and neon colored plastic jewelry.

“It ties the outfit together.” She replied, pulling her in step at the end of the line. “Now, you wanna tell me why you’re so familiar with the Immortal, or do I have to abandon all the trust we’ve been building up?”

Shit.

Fuck.

“He infiltrated my father’s facility when I was a kid. I was stupid and naive and trusted everything he said. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Aranea seemed to be rolling that answer around. “And you knew he was a Lucian operative?”

“I was six, what do you want from me? Anyway, he lied and bailed on me. Didn’t get anything he was after either so it was a big waste of time for everyone.”

“...hm. Wonder what it was he was after?” Aranea asked, acting like the very much not rhetorical question was one.

Oh, you know, just baby Prompto. Normal shit.

“We’re here. Keep your heads down and ears open. We’re going to be alright.”

Del scoffed quietly.

“Wonder why these guys are targeting us instead of the Prince?” Aranea whispered.

“Opportunity knocked, I guess.” Del shrugged. All this for a shitty dress.

“I’m just saying, Lucian terrorists need to get their priorities in check.”

“You’re sure they’re Lucian?” Del whispered. Aranea’s face broke into a wide smirk.

“Clever girl.”

“You feel it too.”

“This entire mission was doomed from the start.”

“Why else would anyone put Loqi in charge?”

Aranea chuckled in spite of herself, and the sound inspired Del to laugh in turn.

“Oh Gods, we’re so fucked.” Del whispered.

“WATCH IT!”

In a rush of air and movement that blew her hat off, hair tumbling back down, Cor was by her side with his blade unsheathed and held in front of her eyes.

She heard a soft ‘clink’ before he lowered it. Her vision came back into focus in time to see a splatter of blood in the distance.

“Was tha….did you…?”

“Run.” Cor barked, grabbing her around the wrist and pulling her back towards a line of trees.

“Either your Glaive suck at their job, or there’s a lot of people here who want us dead!” Aranea yelled while guiding the shop workers to cover.

“At this point I’m willing to assume both.”  Cor positioned his blade to use as a mirror, checking for any sign of further danger behind them. “Aranea, think you can get them-”

“Way ahead of you, Driver.” From their position, she could easily lead the others behind cover  with only a short sprint left to get them to the station. 

But Cor and Del had a large gap of open space.

“I’m not asking you to trust me.” Cor started, his blade dissipating in a spark of magic.

Oh that was rich, super rich.

“But I need you to do exactly as I say, and you will get back alive.”

“That’s LITERALLY asking me to trust you!” Del hissed between her clenched teeth.

“Right. Well, I have one question. Can you swim?”

Del blinked. “What? No…”

“That’s unfortunate.” Cor tightened his grip on her wrist, and before she could protest he was pulling both of them down, using the momentum to roll over. She was then wrenched back upwards on her feet and pushed backwards, stumbling until she fell. Right off of an edge.

And into the pool.

She wasn’t lying, she really didn’t fucking know how to swim. Everything was dark, she couldn’t tell which way was back up, and she was reaching peak panic until her wrist was once again being pulled. Over, over, until she felt her lungs would burst and then finally, up.

“Take a deep breath.” Cor commanded.

She wanted to screech and curse and slap him again but instead she obeyed and inhaled. He dragged her back down, much further. She didn’t know what else to do. She simply let him pull her on until once more everything in her chest burned and her mind began to spiral and then-

Her head was above water once again, Cor holding her up under her armpit and slowly guiding her out of the pool.

Del wiped her hair from her eyes to see a large number of people in uniforms surrounding them. 

“Marshal, Sir.” A woman in a helmet said. “We’ve done a thorough sweep, land and air. The last identifiable terrorist has been neutralized.”

Del struggled to breathe, feeling like she might just pass out right there sitting on the ledge of the pool.

“Thanks Monica, get our guests a ride back to the Citadel. I’m sure they’d like some time to freshen up before the party.”

Oh.

Oh, Del was going to kill him.

[anxiety-trademark]

The week in review:

Raw 09/21 NXT 09/23 NXT UK 09/24 Smackdown 09/25 Clash of Champions 09/27 + Main Event 09/24

Raw:

Billie’s not wrong. None of these people are wrong. That title has fallen so fucking far since Becky held it, Jesus.

Interesting to see Billie Kay be somewhat (?) supportive of Peyton. Manager?

I implore women to stop using red eyeliner unless you’re trying to look possessed.

Oh at least Mickie’s gonna have her last match with her snazzy pants on.

God that theme music is so outdated.

If there was one person on the roster that could convince me they wrestled in the Diva’s era, it’d be Mickie James.

Beautiful Octopus, dare I say best in the division. Look at those crossed legs. Just beautiful, Zelina.

Man it was cool watching Zelina reverse the powerbomb attempt into a rollup, but Mickie couldn’t be bothered to get her shoulders down for a 2 count before the reversal. Shame.

Zelina needs an increase to her speed to pull off the style she’s going for, but it’s a fun style.

oof I think Mickie actually caught Zelina’s forehead with that high kick.

Seated Senton off the top rope is garbage and I hate it.

Lmfao Zelina won with a backstabber. She’s literally Sasha-lite. Okay.

Word was Bianca was the star of the pc combine, right? So if you wanna showcase her strength, do it against someone I fucking know lmao. Who was this bro? Of course she’s stronger than a nobody in the pc. Friggin Alexa Bliss can effortlessly give piggy back rides to Sheamus. That’s impressive, because I know how strong and big he is. This could’ve been done better is all I’m saying. Maybe do a sitdown interview with her pc peeps hyping her up, or show footage of her blowing everyone in the combine out the park. Idk.

Ruby stop hyping up Nia and Shayna individually, individually they suck lol lesbireal.

So did Ruby just give Liv her shirt? …You know what, it works, I’m not gonna dig into this.

I feel like all women use the same starting moves against Nia and it’s a little tired ngl. They do this headscissors into a standing crucifix hold, and then slide down to try and roll her up. Then she picks them up and headbutts them. Come on peeps.

Mk just throw Lana through another table, she’s as useless in the ring (kf wise) as Liv is on commentary (non-kf wise)

Let me rewind, how did Nattie get taken out this time? A punch again. COOL. Nattie confirmed worst tag partner in the history of the division.

Lmfao rip Lana. Bye.

Wow we just said fuck entrances huh? Ugh God. Imagine Becky not getting an entrance as a damn champion.

So Peyton forgoes jumping for the German suplex, which could’ve resulted in her landing on Asuka’s head, and her reaction is to laugh. Consummate professional. Becky Lynch’s optic cranial nerve injury (caused by a failed German suplex) called, it can’t seem to find the humor.

Idk what that double underhooked move was by Peyton, but it was nice.

What bothers me about Peyton’s spinning heel kick, is as high as she gets it, she only hits people with her calf. Awkward to see.

That attempted transition into the Asuka Lock was... something.

Highlight: Lana going through the table

---

NXT:

Did Tegan say “why me” to Candice fucking her knee up with a metal pipe? Somebody get this girl some tissues.

Haha watching Tegan writhe in pain is funny. Candice gets points. And I do not like giving Candice points.

Really appreciate Rhea’s theme after hearing so much generic garbage lately. She’s so done with nxt as a performer, she has passed literally all of them by.

Not to be that person, but seeing so many people in the ring together bothers me. If one person was sick, literally all of them are sick now. It’s just kinda yikes.

Did they forego having a crowd? If so, wise. There’s enough ppl in the ring and at ringside.

Rhea fucking yeeted that girl into the barrier lmaooo.

“...Marina Shafir who’s done some great things on Raw Underground recently,” lmao sure.

The absolute half-assed attempt by that girl to pull herself up before Rhea booted her down to the floor was questionable.

So adding all these random peeps from the pc to this battle royal was done solely to have Raquel and Rhea flex for their feud in 4 months, huh.

Kacy does cool shit, wbk lmao. Gets kicked out, lands on her back, rolls into a handstand, rotates, pulls herself up into the ring using her feet on the ropes; gets kicked out, lands on the side of the guardrail, pulls herself up, uses the plexiglass to help balance herself, jumps onto the stairs; gets kicked out, lands on the side of the guardrail, stands on Kayden’s shoulders and gets chauffeured back to the ring. Brilliant. Would be overkill in a Royal Rumble, but it works here.

R&R eliminate each other/themselves together. Fitting. Dakota “help me I’m useless on my own” Kai is shook.

Why is Indi in the top 5? Or top 7? How is this girl so damn prestigious??

Kacy really just slung herself around the ringpost. I’m becoming a fan of her antics/performances in multiwomen matches.

I see Shotzi’s character is, “I come so close yet cannot manage to touch the gold.” I feel for her... cuz I can’t stand Candice.

Boooo

I love how Io carries herself. She’s a shining example of not allowing her heritage to hold her back or make her feel unimportant. She responds in Japanese, and without missing a beat, translates in perfectly spoken and quick English. Never dances, never smiles, never looks like a chump. Serious and answers the damn question. She gets points.

Highlight: Kacy shenanigans

---

NXT UK:

Lol I love KLR so much. Just ducks out of the ring the first time she’s bested.

“KLR is well versed in mental manipulation,” that she is. She’s honestly a top competitor in that sense; equal to the likes of Sasha and Charlotte when it comes to psychology.

Piper’s got power. Ragdolling KLR here.

That’s right, performing with Charlotte Flair at wm is an accolade one can only hope to achieve (I’m annoying I know) no but seriously, KLR vs Becky Lynch? Take my money.

Nice Superkick, nice Tornado ddt.

Dear ref, stop yelling at her and restart the count. Dweeb.

Lmao self inflicted wreckage of her knee. 

This ref is a walking headache. We’re now getting into the autumn of overbooked women’s matches. And UK’s first title match back. Yikes.

That senton was awkward and looked painful af for KLR’s neck. If you’re gonna risk that move while selling a leg injury, make sure you have more space to correct your landing.

I almost wish that turnbuckle came undone naturally because KLR is already such a good seller, but I’m gonna assume this is a worked move since it’s been left exposed.

Yeah see there are issues with that spot. Positives: KLR didn’t purposefully undo the turnbuckle, so it’s not on her to give another title match; the spot has potential, as I’m guessing that would be genuinely painful. Negatives: Piper is too big of a woman to hit the lower turnbuckle doing the cannonball, so she ended up hitting the middle... which was padded. Good ending on paper if you don’t do the equations, but poor execution. Not Piper nor KLR’s fault though.

Slow pacing and I hate overbooked garbage, but this obviously isn’t the only match they’re having so *shrug*

Highlight: Clean tornado ddt, and I do love KLR’s selling

---

Smackdown:

Lol Bayley has her chair. She automatically gets a point every time I see it.

Top of the ramp this time? Okay, sure.

Stop cutting to the fancams, production. I don’t care about their reactions.

A fine enough promo to move along both of her angles, but production sucks. Wbk though.

“...one of the most complex personalities,” which personality of Alexa’s are we referring to, though?

Their timing on her pyro was off and now I’m sad. The pops during the breakdown leading into the fountains are fucking amazing and honestly cannot be topped by any of the other women.

When did Alexa stop wearing her gloves to the ring? Probably when she turned face. Shame.

She just called Lacey bitter, southern tea, and you know what? What a fucking drag. Imagine bitter southern tea. As someone who was raised in the south, that is a disgrace to southern tea. Sweet sun tea or pass.

Look at Alexa: selling Lacey’s strength, full of agile speed, and yet here’s Lacey not even bothering to put her shoulders down for her pin attempt. SAD.

A problem I consistently have with SD in particular is how they set up commercial breaks. They always do something dramatic, cut to commercial, come back and shit’s always completely different. How you gonna cut from Alexa leading and hearing the Fiend’s laugh, to return to Lacey in charge ???

Dear Cole, why are you calling her Alexis lol. Like I know that’s her real name but, hello??

oof Alexa’s midsection is beet red.

Lacey has not been putting on a “clinic” stop tossing that term around, Cole. Good bump by Alexa though.

Love how Lacey doesn’t mind landing flat when her moonsault misses. Respect. Her and Charlotte both eat that so perfectly.

LOVE how the monitors of people turned into Fiend’s face. POINTS.

It’s like she’s reverted back to her heel persona. This is literally 2016 Bliss, right? Right??

Roman is a large, strong, intimidating guy... but holy shit the visual of 5′1 Alexa staring daggers into the back of his head is intense af. I almost complained that he cut off her exit, but well done with the continuity.

Highlight: I’m really digging the Alexa/Fiend story

---

Clash of Champions:

Loving the red roots, hate the eyeshadow.

See, if Asuka wants to fuck around in the ring, you won’t hear me complain. I just wish she took her non-wrestling segments more seriously.

The patience Asuka gave Zelina to set up the arm kick was dumb.

“A hard arm bar by Asuka,” he says, even though her legs were completely bent. Easy on the credit given plz.

Zelina telegraphs too much. None of the bumps she takes ever catch me by surprise.

In the spirit of being fair, put your fucking shoulders down and let her attempt a pinfall, Asuka.

Haha Sasha-lite did meteora in the corner.

Nice roll into a kick, half point for Zelina.

No you don’t get to sell frustration or disbelief yet, that’s not buyable.

I don’t know wtf Zelina was going for with that counter before the Asuka Lock, but honestly idc. Could’ve been a kickoff match indeed. State of Becky’s title btw.

Every week it’s the same shit with Asuka. She gets on the mic, speaks Japanese, barely accomplishes anything, then gets interrupted/slapped/attacked... with dancing and smiling inbetween. I really wish she was more like Io.

Nikki isn’t “medically cleared to compete”, and the tag team titles aren’t being defended. My memory is fuzzy but wasn’t there some covid concerns going around back then? Was that just baseless speculation?

Love that Bayley turned this into an opportunity to be a bigger douche than she already was lol.

IS SHE DOING A VICTORY LAP LMAO

I want to hate this from a smarky “give other women a chance” perspective, but Bayley is an ass and this is great for Asuka to build credit as a face, and after being made to look foolish yet again. Lesgo.

Lol sounded like Bayley said, “you think you can cuck me?” I’m sure she didn’t. I’m choosing to believe she did though.

I never know exactly who to blame when Asuka’s Codebreaker looks ugly, but I swear Charlotte is the only one it looks impactful with. Sell job isn’t the problem, but taking that actual move is always dicey af.

Great kick by Asuka. Rekt.

Bayley says nah fuck this rofl. Fair ending; a fun little sprint of meaningless jabs.

“Chairwoman of SD” I like that too, Graves. Points to you.

LMAOOO Bayley set that shit up perfectly kekekek what’s up Sasha.

She be looking fucking incredible, but that neckbrace is a mega bummer.

Character wise, I’m surprised Bayley’s choosing to dole out punishment rather than taking her title and bolting.

Welp maybe she should have, Sasha going to town lmao.

oof peep that red line going down Bayley’s arm. eesh. Welts all over her back.

Highlight: Sasha beating the shit out of Bayley with a kendo stick

---

*BONUS*

Main Event:

You don’t pan the camera over to fucking commentary during Bianca’s entrance. Do better @ production.

Ruby puts her confidence in Liv even though everybody knows Bianca is winning this match lmao.

LOVE Liv’s boots.

like 20 seconds into the match and it’s already 10x better than the Bianca vs Billie Kay one. Don’t even waste a spot on Main Event for Billie Kay. No, I’m not not sorry for saying that.

It’s not that I hold issue with Bianca’s showboating or mannerisms, but it’s all so much more fitting for a heel.

Beautiful stalling suplex, but Liv is rather small.

Beautiful distance on that dropkick to Liv. Liv gets points for throwing herself so far.

We have enough women who rip their shirts off deep into matches, me thinks. Don’t need it from Liv as well.

Momentum could’ve been split better, but that was a decent match.

---

*Clash of Champions would be my highlighted event mostly thanks to Bayley, but if that’s a cop out, I’ll give a slight nod to Smackdown’s handling of Alexa.

[vivienna-vivid]

The masters of Red have no personalities so I made them up.

Feend vor Sembren

Ah yes, Nasuverse!Edgeworth

Strict AF college professor who actually cares about his students. They affectionately call him “Professor Fiend”.

W O R K A H O L I C

A total romantic who loves his wife and son. If only he made a habit of actually coming home…

Did you know this man is 52??? Did you know his son Fezgram is 24???

The only one here who knows how to be a functional member of society.

Pretty heavy smoker, so he has a raspy voice.

Surprisingly, Feenie’s a connoisseur of wine. Kayneth introduced him to a lotta high-end alchohol in their college days.

Yes, he knew Kayneth. They were good friends before Kayneth bit the dust.

I dare you to make vore jokes in front of him. I dare you. You’ll die but at least it’ll be fun.

Listens to a lot of 70s-80s bands. In case you’re wondering, he’s a big fan of Queen and Fleetwood Mac.

Pretty technologically advanced for a mage. His pragmatism towards technology was inspired by a certain gun-wielding magus killer.

Was married into the Vor Sembren family. Since he was born a poor boy, he’s always trying to prove himself.

His parents were Chinese Singaporeans, so he’s fluent in Mandarin.

Feenie’s magecraft focuses on transmutation. With select materials, he can transmute one thing into another. He mainly uses his magecraft to heal wounds and create pseudo organs and flesh.

Has at one point intimidated a person by showing them a transmuted heart and lying that it’s theirs.

His wish for the Grail is… Well, he plans to give the Grail to the Association, so he doesn’t particularly care about the Grail.

It’s to run away from mage society with his family

Rottweil Berzinsky

OH BOY LOOK AT THIS DISASTER.

Australian. Because of that, he has a noice Australian accent.

S H A R P   T E E F S

Man’s been in too much explosions

His Crowley-esque shades hides his lizard eyes.

“If I’m gonna do horrible things, at least I can make them FUN”

Think: Steve Irwin but borderline psychopath.

Is surprisingly good with kids! Rott’s the kinda guy who’d chastise a child for being mean and/or rude, but would teach them how to stab assholes. “Y’see a weird man offering candy from his van. Wha’dya do? Shank ‘im!”

Man’s a natural prankster. He’ll prank E V E R Y O N E and A N Y T H I N G.

Likes: Sunbathing. Hates: Cold weather and winter.

Thinks Gene Rum is a cooooooooooooold bitch with a stick up her arse.

Gene and Rott has some history. Both tend to be employed by the same people.

Rott may be a murderer, but he has standards! No killing children, no harming children, if employer does anything to children he will kill them.

Has killed more employers than actual hit targets.

In the manga, Rott can change into silver lizard form. He doesn’t like changing his form since the more he uses that ability, the more monstrous and mindless he becomes.

Rott is indeed a Chimera, a mage who is able to turn into an animal to some degree. He didn’t become a Chimera from his own volition, so that’s also a reason why he rarely uses his ability.

As a Chimera, he’s gained some lizard perks even in his human form. For starters, his saliva is toxic and has lizard eyes. He also can shed his skin to heal certain wounds. In Chimera form, he’s covered in nigh-indestructible scales.

Rott was an orphan who was adopted by a mage named Zagreus Berzinsky. The man wanted to create mythical beast of yore by forcefully fusing children with all kinds of beasts. Rott was one of those children.

Rott was able to escape with a few kids. Eventually, they made their way to the Clocktower. While he himself never went to school, he 100% made sure his “younger siblings” are enrolled in the Clocktower. It’s for their safety.

His wish for the Grail is for an antidote for Chimeratization. Oh! And to kill off Zagreus too!

Gene (Jean?) Rum

Gene, short for Genevieve. (Or Jean, short for Jeanette)

Straight-laced lipstick lesbian.

Likes books because, unlike people, they’re actually engaging. Nah she’s just a bit awkward and self-conscious.

Grew up reading Shakespeare, Arabian Nights, and Grimm’s Fairy Tales.

Since she’s broken into Ivan the Terrible’s library at least once, I can tell you that she’s a professional lock-picker. Wizard who took a level in Rogue.

Fluent in many languages due to her time abroad.

Favorite Genre: Russian Literature

HAS PUBLISHED HER OWN POETRY BOOK!! Though, it’s under a pseudonym and bringing it up will make her really embarrassed.

Thinks Rottweil is a bITCH-ASS MOTHERFUCKER.

Gene doesn’t care much about the morality of her employers. As long as she gets paid, she won’t stick her nose in her employer’s business.

You’d think she’d have Mystic Eyes what with her chilling side-eye.

Loves puns but you’d be hard-pressed to get her to laugh at one in public.

Finished her education in the Clocktower but chose to lead a life of a mercenary. Her family was… pretty miffed.

Never attends family meetups.

Org Rum is her little brother and his presence turns on her latent Cain instincts.

Do you have your rival family’s documents? Do you want to ruin them by exposing these documents but they’re encrypted? HIRE GENE RUM TODAY!

Gene’s magecraft focuses of aeromancy, the control of wind.

Her most famous technique is the ability to make thread-thin tornado chakrams. Anyone who touches these tordano-wheels will get sliced. If she focuses a bit harder, she can imbue her chakrams with lightning.

She makes those storm-threads with a small buckler-sized spinning wheel she bring along. It’s her mystic code and she’s very protective of it.

Cabik Pentel

The current patriarch of the Pentel Clan, a family of esoteric assassins/mercenary group.

Hardly ever emotes so it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking.

But he’s usually very honest and won’t sugar nor exaggerate his words.

The only reason he’s can understand other people (to a degree) is because his brother is such a good person.

Yeah, Cabik loves his brother very much. And as such, he loves his brother’s twin daughters. He’s somewhat of a cool uncle to them.

Doesn’t quite know how he feels about being patriarch since the clan is awful as all hell. He’s good at being an assassin, so he’ll continue the work in the meantime.

BOY ONLY KNOWS HOW TO KILL PEOPLE HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HUMAN, BLESS HIM.

Proud father of houseplants and a cat

Q: Weren’t you and your brother called “The Gum Brothers” in college?

A: ………………………………………Ah. So you’ve chosen death.

How many daggers does this man have? A LOT

Seriously, you’d think he has a limit to how many daggers he can carry but. No. He just… fucking pops out another pair if the ones he’s using are lost.

His twin knives are called Rahu and Ketu and he loves them very much.

The Pentels specialty magecraft is body modification. Cabik uses this to make his body pliable as fuck.

This bitch can basically make his body have the consistency of a ferret’s.

Need to dodge? Fuckin’ dislocate your spine! Gutted? Move your organs upwards to not make them fall!

Deimlet Pentel

The older brother of the Pentel siblings. Supposed to be the next family patriarch but left that position for his brother.

Big teddy bear man. Big teddy bear wrestler man.

“HAHAHA!! I AM HERE!!” -Deimlet (and totally not All Might)

Divorced man of two daughters. BUT!! HE STILL LOVES HIS EX-WIFE VERY MUCH!!!

“I may want to remarry my ex-wife. Or not, haha……. Unless…;)?”

Stronk dad to stronk daughters. He taught them how to wrestle and….. he’s so proud of them ;’)

MADE OF LITERAL SUNSHINE!! IF YOU SEE THE SUN IN MIDNIGHT, YOU MIGHT BE LOOKING AT DEIM!!

Super protective of his mustache. It’s his magnum opus so do nOT MESS IT UP

Legitimately hates the Pentels, but still loves his baby bro.

Q: Weren’t you and your brother called “The Gum Brothers” in college?

A: What? I didn’t hear you there! Mind *cracks fingers* saying that again?

While he married out of love, his responsibilities as heir-apparent (and assassin) made him incredibly distant to his family. 

When he was tasked to kill his then-wife’s brother’s family, he did so with much hesitation. Because of that, his brother-in-law nearly killed him and ended up dying anyway.

His wife was… not happy, to say the least. That’s why they divorced and she took the kids.

And that’s how he left the family! Killing, as it turns out, sucks ass!!

Good ending tho: he moved to Finland and started tutoring the Edelfelt kids in wrestling.

He’s… actually a masked wrestler there. He’s been on TV a bunch of times!

Joined the HGW mainly to make sure Cabik is doing fine.

Uses his family’s magecraft to super harden his body. 

You can’t gut this man ‘cause he made hIS BODY INTO LITERAL STONE!!

Man is just Indian Alex Louis Armstrong. Thatse it! He cannot change this!

[wolfcrunch]

32.

i didnt get a character or angst/fluff decision so i went with bakugou!! hope that’s alright!

Prompt #32 - What did I do?

read on AO3 - request a prompt and character(s) for me to write!

What did I do?

Crimson coloured eyes stared blankly upwards, tracing patterns into the clean, white tiles overhead. Silence rung in his ears, but thoughts and memories weight heavy on the young hero’s mind, the events of the previous two days playing on rewind.

What did I do?

He could still hear the cries for help, the yells of his friends, screaming at him to move. To do something. He could still taste smoke and blood, on the tip of his tongue despite it being cleaned off long ago. He could still feel his tattered costume sticking against his sweat-laden body, covered in soot and dirt and all sorts of debris.

What did I do?

He remembered he had been facing a tenacious villain, one that he and Deku had been essentially ‘hunting down’ for the past three months, at least. A man who could outmaneuver even the proclaimed Wonder Duo, of all heroes.

Katsuki and Deku had only been heroes for around five years now - and in all of that time, they had not yet come across a villain who could make them chase tail for more than a week, the League excused.

All except the man they had come to know as 'Torrent’.

A dangerous man who seemed set on stirring up trouble, the heroes who had faced him weren’t entirely sure on what his quirk really do, except it was some sort of extreme weather manipulation. He’d been shown to cause a vast arrangement of weather - from storms, to hail, to snow and even fire tornadoes.

Even with Katsuki and Deku working together - it was almost as if the other man had several quirks, with how quickly he could change the weather and make his escape.

They’d run into the villain again, and Katsuki had decided enough was enough. The man in question had sent a blast of dangerous high wind through some apartment buildings, leaving the buildings almost destroyed and civilians in need of saving. Their job had been to get the civilians out safely first…

But then Katsuki had seen him. And his vision went red.

He’d screamed at Deku to start evacuating victims before blasting off after the escaping man, his explosion quirk boosting him along. Deku had tried to stop him– but there were people in need, and he couldn’t just abandon them.

Not when the buildings looked as if they were going to fall.

Despite having grown and mellowed out…Katsuki still had a bit of a short fuse. And here, it had decided to come and bite him on the ass.

He didn’t know how the guy’s quirk worked, let alone a way to possibly take him down and immobilize him long enough for Deku to catch up…he hadn’t been thinking straight, he could admit that much. He could admit defeat.

Failure.

So…what did I do?

Nothing…absolutely fucking nothing.

Katsuki had been no match for the villain, not even with his rage-filled mind that made him act before thinking. The explosive hero prided himself on his reaction times, on his prowess, on his fighting experience, years of that skill honed into his very bones.

But it still had been no match, not alone.

Torrent had toyed with him. He’d batted the hero around as if the two were playing cat and mouse - as if Katsuki was the prey, in this scenario.

Torrent knew Katsuki - the hero, Ground Zero - was no match for him, and it had only served to make Katsuki angrier as the minutes ticked by. As Katsuki got worn down, expending all of his energy into firing off blasts…he’d been so angry, that he hadn’t accounted much for his surrounding area.

Of course, collateral damage was usually never an issue…his PR would chew him out for it, but it was something he could pay off…

…but the lives at stake…

Katsuki’s calloused hands gripped at the light, scratchy blanket laid over his body, an all-too-unfamiliar burning beginning to build up in his eyes. He hated, hated, hated this. This feeling….

Complete, utter failure.

Katsuki could do nothing. Nothing as Torrent sent a huge gust of wind clashing into him, making the hero crash into an unstable building. Nothing as a shrill cry sounded from within its walls, breaking Katsuki out of the rage-filled cloud overhanging every nerve.

He did nothing as Torrent sneered at the sounds emitting from the once-thought abandoned building, calling out something Katsuki couldn’t hear over the roar of vicious winds.

Nothing as heroes arrived on the scene– Red Riot, Pinky, Uravity, Deku– screaming out for the explosive hero to move.

To save…

Katsuki couldn’t move…and two children, eight and three, had perished as Torrent brought the building down upon him. Katsuki hadn’t known…but that didn’t make the weight in his chest any less heavy.

He’d been lucky that he was alive - Deku having jumped into the fray and chasing Torrent off as Red Riot, Pinky and Uravity dug him and the children out, as the nurses said once he awoke.

According to them, no one had been to visit yet, even though Katsuki hadn’t been too critically injured, surprisingly…

Not that he deserved their company.

Ground Zero was suppose to be a hero, yet two children lost their lives because of him. A couple was never going to hug their children, see them grow up…he knew that all heroes lost someone at least once during their careers…

But this was all utterly Katsuki’s fault, he knew. He was the reason that Japan had lost two lives that day.

He was the reason Torrent was still on the run. If only he had waited–

If only he hadn’t run in like a damn intern on his first patrol…those two kids might still be alive.

The blond scowled, lifting a hand to slowly run through his dirtied hair, wincing at the tiny shards of glass still stuck between its strands. He’d told the nurses to piss off after checking his vitals after awaking not a mere three hours ago…now he was kinda starting to regret that.

Ugh…the sooner I can get out…

Katsuki knew that to wallow in his own self-pity was…pathetic. He didn’t deserve to feel so sorry for himself. No, because those kids–

They had needed him in that moment. They had needed to be saved, by a hero.

And Katsuki had been still, sealing their fates.

He scowled to himself, before carefully propping himself up with his arms. The IV in his arm felt uncomfortable, and his eyes stung at the light coming in from the window. The sooner he got out, the sooner he could do something - he wouldn’t be very surprised if the parents tried to press charges because of their children.

He’d deserve it.

His body, aching, protested against the blond’s movements, but he ignored it to force one leg over the side of the bed, gritting his teeth at the harsh movement. The nurses would have his head if they saw him trying to get up.

But he couldn’t sit here and do nothing. He needed to make up–

“Kacchan!”

The blond gave an indignant squawk as a hand settled on his shoulders, before his brain clicked with the familiar name. “Deku, what the fuck?!”

“Shh, the nurses are gonna kick me out-”

“As they should, shitty nerd!” Katsuki’s raging words held no real bite to them, despite the way his red gaze pierced through the over. Deku at least had the decency to look sheepish. “How the hell did you get in here?” he lowered his voice, slightly.

His hero partner glanced at the door of the room, which he had carefully shut completely to make sure no one was peeking in before looking at the older man. “I….distracted a nurse and managed to sneak past?”

“Deku–”

“They weren’t gonna let us see you!” Izuku insisted, waving about his hands - one which held a plastic bag. “After the thing with Torrent, I got some stuff and came back to the waiting room. They didn’t give any word about you having woken up and I got worried-”

“I don’t want your stinking ass in my room!” Katsuki hissed. “And what do you mean we? What about all the civilians?!”

“They’re fine!!” Katsuki’s cause for his newest headache assured him. “I’ve already dealt with the paperwork and the press…well, most of it. Kirishima and some of the others are still in the waiting room for when you get released - your entire fight was on the news!”

“Fucking– Deku, you’re number fucking one, it’s your job to go out there and detain Torrent, ain’t it?!”

“Kacchan, I wasn’t going to risk going after him alone.”

Now Katsuki knew that Deku was stronger than him - three years together in U.A, and five as hero partners…he’d be stupid to not say that Deku had surpassed him in terms of strength - although when exactly that happened was muddled and forgotten…

Deku had always been stronger than him in moral, too. Even before inheriting One For All.

“Anyways…no one’s seen or heard from him in the two days you were out…I think for now, its fine to take a break,” Izuku then grinned, shaking the bag in his hand. “Anyways, I got some of your clothes from the agency. I don’t think anyone wants to see your ass when you finally get out of here.”

Katsuki paused, the words sinking in. He blurted out what was first to conjure into a sentence.

“What, my ass not good enough for the bunch of you freaks, huh?!”

“N-no, Kacchan!” Izuku couldn’t help but snort, shaking his head. “I think Kirishima would call it manly-”

The broad-shouldered hero got an angry shove at that, the injured one of the two fuming at him. “Eat shit and die, nerd!” he nearly screamed, causing Izuku to laugh louder.

“Come on Kacchan, it was a joke!”

“Yeah? Your whole career is gonna look like a fucking joke in a minute, asshole!”

Katsuki couldn’t help the smug grin that crossed his face as the door to his room was slammed open, two fuming nurses standing outside and setting their sights right on Deku, who looked up like a deer in headlights.

Not even the Number One hero could escape punishment by a couple of angry nurses set out to make sure their patients were comfortable, Katsuki supposed…good.

[witnessprotectionau]

By M’gann

Welcome one, welcome all! M’gann here today, since I’m the only one in the superhero community with experience running a blog. It’s a pleasure to meet you all, even if it isn’t under the most ideal of circumstances...

This is the Justice League’s official tumblr blog! Since our identities were outed, we don’t have to worry about accidently leaking personal information anymore, and we decided to create various social media accounts so our actions are more public and available to everyone, and totally not because if we didn’t, our actions would have to be monitered by the government and none of us want people following us around at all times, or Secretary Ross anywhere close enough to have his eyes on us!! :)

(Scarlet Witch/Wanda just burst out laughing, and she doesn’t have her phone on her, so I think she’s reading my mind, now I know how it feels, but at the same time, I’m glad I made at least one person laugh with that)

If we just post what we’re up to, then we can just refuse to post about when we go to the bathroom unless it’s important, which was a big concern for us all when people following us was first brought up. But that’s besides the point!

This blog will contain all the stuff we’re posting on other social media, so you can just follow us here to get all the tea!

... My uncle just came in to inform me that those of older generations might not know what that means, and that I have to try to not leave anyone out.

‘Tea’ means gossip.

Okay, so starting off this blog with a bang, the entire superhero community (which also includes vigilantes, anti-heroes, and villains, not just superheroes, it’s just quicker to say!) decided to all create twitter accounts to post their name, if their identity was revealed and their civillian name. Now, I don’t know EVERYBODY in the community, so I put in everyone who commented superhero-like stuff on the post. I’m pretty sure that they aren’t real heroes, but it’s better safe than to be rude and exclude people! Besides, I didn’t know about the Defenders half an hour ago until I heard someone in the house exclaim that someone named Daredevil was finally getting media coverage because of this. Apparently a few people in the house were fans of him. __________

Okay, so... You guys weren’t there, but I stopped writing for a few hours to attend a justice league meeting with the avengers and quite a few other people, and here’s what was ultimately decided:

Because we have so many enemies, it isn’t safe for any of us to live alone anymore, so we’ve basically all moved in together? Well, not all of us. Those who had their identities revealed, and those who lived with them, or could have their identities revealed based on everyone else.

For example, Batman had his identity revealed, which, by the way, what???

Bruce WAYNE??

But yeah, Batman had his identity revealed, but Robin didn’t. The new Robin. Not the first one. Nightwing is his eldest son, Dick Grayson. But people can figure it out based on his height. Which, by the way... Bruce has his reasons for letting him into the community, give him some slack. He’s been getting a lot of hate from it. And speaking of Bruce Wayne, it is his manor that we’ve all moved into, since it’s large and has excellent security. I haven’t met his other kids yet, so I don’t know if they already knew their dad was Batman, and their siblings were Nightwing and Robin. I’ll ask them when they show up. __________

Okay, so I left to get food for five minutes, and when I came back, the og JL members were staring at my screen and laughing their heads off while Bruce sat by the side and scowled. So... I’m concerned. If this post never goes up, assume I’m dead.

BUT ANYWAY!!!!!!

I made everyone in the house promise not to read the comments on the original twitter post, and only read them here, as some of us wanted our accounts not to be spammed by their friends. Like, Garfield uses his account to advocate for animal rights, he doesn’t want to constantly respond to other supers’ messages. He’s too busy for that!

The mess on Twitter, as follows: __________

Youonyourphone,situpstraight! @ #1FBIAGENT Plastic Man, aka Patric O’Brian. I was outed, which makes my job VERY interesting now... (read: awkward)

Winged Warrior @ Hawkwoman ✔️ Shayera Hol. I have wings. If  you couldn’t figure out my “civillian identity” by me walking down the street, earth is too dumb to save anymore

r3d @ 70rn4d0 The children chose this name for me. Red Tornado, AKA John Smith.

Green Arrow @ notrobinhood ✔️ Oliver Queen, revealed too... Let’s hope this doesn’t affect STAR labs... Sorry PR department. :/

Adam @ DrStrangeJunior League doctor, last name strange. The avengers already have a doctor strange, and I’m younger than him, hence DrStrangJunior. I never really had a hero identity in the first place, but everyone insists that I’m a part of the group, so... yeah

Big Boy Blue @ TheREalSuperman ✔️ Clark Kent, Kal-el, Superman. Speaking of, why was @ Superman already taken?

Aquaman @ KingOfAtlantis ✔️ Even though I don’t REALLY have a secret identity, I have to do this anyway for some reason? Arthur Curry.

rocket @ PCHOOOOO raquel ervin. rocket. the only reason icon is around so bow down to me. Tim chose my name.

therapist @ capitalsareimportant Black Canary. Dinah Lance-Queen. Betcha Imma bout to lose my job.

take the shot @ harperoy Red Arrow, Will harper, Previously Speedy. I had this @ before... everything

Fastest Man Online @ 2fast2type ✔️ flash, barry allen, dying inside BECAUSEI’MLIVINGINABILLIONAIRE’SHOUSENOWANDTHEREISSOMUCHFOOD

zatanna @ annataz Only one name, Zatanna. That’s both my civillian name and my superhero name, but my stage name SOMEHOW is still a secret??? smh everyone’s blind...

cptnmarvel @ SHAZAM! Captain Marvel. The male one, since apparently I have to say that now?? My identity is still a secret tho!

Themiscyra❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤 @ Wonderous ✔️ Wonder Woman. Princess Diana. However, my Civillian name is Diana Prince __________

Now, The Green Lanterns... Kilowog got an account first, and it didn’t end well... __________

Kilowog @ GreenLanternOFFICIAL ✔️ As one of the Green Lanterns assigned to this sector, I decided to join in on this internet stuff, since it seems so important to everyone on this planet. Kilowog here! Green Lantern.

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ SOMEONE stole @ GreenLanternOFFICIAL  🙄

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ @ GreenLantern1 ???!?!? ONE!?!?! I WAS THE FIRST HUMAN GREEN LANTERN THANK YOU VERY MUCH JOHN!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ It was the first thing I thought of aside from GreenLantenOFFICIAL, don’t yell at me!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ why didn’t you just do GreenLanternJohn instead of stealing what was rightfully mine?

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ Hey, you aren’t the boss of @’s!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ who says I’m not?

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ You’re obviously not!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ but who says?

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ Me!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ but you’re not the boss of me!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ Since when?

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ since i’m your senior!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ I’m older than you!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ i’ve been a green lantern longer!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ That doesn’t matter!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ then if it doesn’t matter, change your name!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ To WHAT?!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ GreenLantern16 or something, i don’t know!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ There aren’t even that many Green Lanterns!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ there are hundreds of us!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ I meant HUMAN Green Lanterns!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ then fucking specify next time? is that so hard?!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ Fuck off, asshole!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ you first!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ That’s not even an insult!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ and yours was?!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ Shut up!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ just change your name and i will!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ You can’t change your @’s, just your user!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ then get a new account!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ That’s a pain though!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ suck it up!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ You’re the one who started all this!

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ you started the argument with Kilowog’s account when he’s not even on the planet anymore!

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ It was a joke! You’re the one who took it seriously!

hey Guys @ GreenLantern ✔️ hey Guys...??

I CAME FIRST! @ OriginalGreenLantern ✔️ ...

John Stewart @ GreenLantern1 ✔️ ... __________

hey Guys @ GreenLantern ✔️ ok so kilowogs off planet, and the others are refusing to use their accounts after the incident where i murdered them both, so im doing their introductions for them

hey Guys @ GreenLantern ✔️ @ GreenLantern1 is john stewart, obviously. @ OriginalGreenLantern is hal jordan, and yeah, he was the first human lantern. and me? the only Guy who had the bright idea of actually checking to see if @ GreenLantern was available like a normal person?

hey Guys @ GreenLantern ✔️ i was off-world when everyone’s identities were revealed, and thus have my secrets!

hey Guys @ GreenLanten ✔️ well, i mean... i didn’t exactly hide it before, so some people might know, but im loving the fact that i kept my identity secret when batman didnt, so i decided to keep it to flaunt that fact to the others. peace out __________

Ro(g)y @ arsenal The OG Roy Harper here. Arsenal. Previously speedy.

Kaldur’ahm @ Aqualad ✔️ My user and @ says it all. I was revealed. Uselessly, but still revealed.

Mygreatestachievementwillbebeingborn @ Impulsive Bart Allen, AKA Impulse. My identity WAS revealed, but good luck finding out who I am. ;-)

Apollo’s Crockpot Sister @ Artemis ✔️ Artemis, AKA Artemis Crock. Now y’all can finally stop asking me about my name.

From Fanboy To @ LagoonBoy L’gann here. Lagoon Boy. I’m green, you should be able to know what my civillian self looks like. It’s not like I can hide.

buzz off @ bumblebee I wasn’t revealed, but... being a superhero would be a suitable excuse for being late to classes... Karen Beecher-Duncan, Bumblebee! (Don’t worry, I discussed revealing myself with the entire league, and they said it was cool)

World’s best dodger and bullshitter @ Guardian Bumbles’ loving husband, Mal Duncan.

hello megan! @ hellom’gann ✔️ M’gann M’orzz AKA Megan Morse AKA Miss Martian. Superboy doesn’t have an account, but also didn’t get his identity leaked (somehow) anyway!!

Wall-Man @ It’sKIDFLASH ✔️ Wally West, Kid Flash. Nice to meet Y’all

Apollo’s Crockpot Sister @ Artemis ✔️ Y’all

Wall-Man @ It’sKIDFLASH ✔️ Okay, you used it just two seconds ago so don’t @ me

Jaime @ ScarabHost ✔️ Jaime Reyes here. Now, the previous blue beetle is in a coma, and has been for years, I’m the new one. I just never had a public enough persona to tell everyone that I’m not just him with a new suit before...

Cassie @ WONDERgirl ✔️ Come to my room @ ScarabHost, I have marshmellos to cheer you up! Yes, you can come too, @ Impulsive  😋

Mygreatestachievementwillbebeingborn @ Impulsive Like you could keep me from food.  😜

Dr. Tony Stark @ youknowwhoiam ✔️ I Am Iron Man

Hawk-ayeeee @ hawkeyeshadow Clint Barton

Brunhilde @ TheLastValkyrie All in the name.

Platypus @ TiredOfTony Col. James Rhodes, AKA War Machine, previously Iron Patriot (Thank goodness)

The Black Panther @ Kingofwakanda ✔️ T’Challa of Wakanda.

godofhammers @ kingofasgard ✔️ I am Thor, son of Frigga

Captain American’t deal @ Steven19 ✔️ Steve Rogers, Captain America.

My Name’s Not Scarlett @ It’s Wanda ✔️ Scarlet Witch

On your above @ FalconPINCH ✔️ Sam Wilson

🅱️lums @ WhiteWolf James “Bucky” Barnes here. Previously Winter Soldier... Sorry.

Toaster @ Eyesight ✔️ Vision Stark.

Dr. Tony Stark @ youknowwhoiam ✔️ I’m crying.

Master Of The Mystic Arts @ DrStephenStrangeMD ✔️ I didn’t change my @ when I got into this world

Fury @ DirectorOfSHIELD ✔️ My name is already there.

Not That Maria @ AssistantDirectorOfSHIELD ✔️ Maria Hill, Assistant Director Of SHIELD

I am Groot @ Multilinguism I am Groot.

PETER NO @ GamoradaughterofABITCH Gamora.

PETER YES @ STARLORDOFFICIAL Peter Quill, Starlord!

Chocolate Works @ WeAreVenom Identity kept, bitches!

Shield Maiden @ LadySif I am Sif.

T’Challa’s babysitter @ GeneralOfWakanda ✔️ I am Okoye.

Logan @ Wolverine ✔️ I would reveal my identity, but I don’t know what it is myself.

Laura @ Wolverine2 ✔️ OMG DAD! You got your memories back, stop making amnesia jokes, they’re lame!

Logan @ Wolverine ✔️ This isn’t Private Messages sweetie

Laura @ Wolverine ✔️ FUCK

DannyRand @ AngstPuppy Iron Fist here!

notthedevil @ kurtthenightcrawler I’m blue, it’s not like I can hide?

Godda go feast @ Quicksilver Pietro Maximoff, Wanda’s twin brother.

Freshuricado @ WakandaHeadOfScience ✔️ Princess Shuri. I don’t have a hero name, but I sometimes fight with gauntlets, so...?

Best Grandma @ Gi-Ant-Man Scott Lang here, also known as Ant-Man!

The Wasp @ HopeVanDyne ✔️ Scott’s better half.

Quill chose my name @ trashpanda Rocket Raccoon. That’s my name, nothing else.

Iron Daughter @ Blueberry My name is Nebula Stark, Gamora’s sister.

Dr. Tony Stark @ youknowwhoiam ✔️ 😭😭😭🥰

bobby @ Iceman So... My identity wasn’t revealed, but... most mutants at the school don’t really hide their identities, so everyone knows who I am here? But I didn’t wanna get left out of the train, so I’m Bobby Drake. AKA Iceman

Unbreakable @ LukeCage I don’t have an alternate name?? Yet my identity was still secret somehow?? (Well, not anymore) I hate everyone’s blindness. No offence to someone though, you know who you are.

Drax @ Drax I am Drax!

Jessica Nones @ AliasInvestigations ✔️ I never hid, but I guess I’m finally advertising.

💚🔪💚@ Iammantis! Hello everyone! I am Mantis!

DIDN’T CHOOSE MY OWN NAME @ ItIsBEN The Thing. Ben Grimm.

NAME WAS GIVEN BY DUMBASS BROTHER @ butiapprove The Invisible Woman. Sue Storm.

CHOSE MY OWN NAME @ FLAMEON The Human Torch. Johnny Storm

My name wasn’t chosen by me @ butitboostsmyego Mr. Fantastic. Reed Richards.

CHOSE MY OWN NAME @ FLAMEON YOU MESSED UP THE CAPITALS ORDER!!!

My name wasn’t chosen by me @ butitboostsmyego SIGH

__________

So, quick note, the next people... Well, I haven’t got any confirmation that they’re ACTUALLY heroes. But I don’t wanna exclude anyone, and they might just be obscure vigilantes that I don’t know about, but they commented on the thread that only heroes were meant to, and it’s not like believing them to be heroes will get me hurt like it would on a mission if they were villains in disguise, so... I’m just going to trust them this time! __________

Anathema @ Device I’m Anathema Device, and I’ll be doing the technology side for Crowley, Aziraphale, and Newton Pulsifer.

Adam @ DEATHJR Kids of the Armageddon’t, unite! (Except Warlock, cuz he didn’t actually save anything) Adam Young here.

Pestilance? @ POLLUTIONJR Brian here! (My mum says I can’t give out my last name until I hit 18, sorry for the lack of syncronity...)

Adam @ DEATHJR (It’s all cool Brian, not your fault!)

Cuz common sense is the rarest resource @ FAMINEJR Well, most of us can unite, anyway... I miss Pep, even if she had a weird name that I’m pretty sure was fake, looking back on our childhood.

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR You wanna go, Wensly?

Pestilance? @ POLLUTIONJR YOU’RE ALIVE?!!

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR Yeah, I’ll DM you three my number so we can catch up.

Pestilance? @ POLLUTIONJR Is it really her though?

Adam @ DEATHJR Well, you DID forget to put your name down Wensly. Nice to see you again Pep!

Pestilance? @ POLLUTIONJR But they could have just hacked your computer?

Adam @ DEATHJR If she did that, she would have called him Wenslydale, not just Wensly. She knew better.

Cuz common sense is the rarest resource @ FAMINEJR One way to find out. @ WARJR, say you’re name to us all within the next five minutes!

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR Pippin Galadriel Moonchild, Pleb. Bow down to your missing member.

Pestilance? @ POLLUTIONJR OMG, I’m legit crying you guys...

Cuz common sense is the rarest resource @ FAMINEJR IT REALLY IS YOU!

Adam @ DEATHJR Glad to know you’re safe and sound, Pep. 🖤

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR Puh-lease. You really think *I* could keep out of trouble?

Adam @ DEATHJR Glad to know you’re sound, Pep. 🖤

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR Glad to be sound, Antichrist! 🖤 Still haven’t learnt what safety is tho... :P

Pestilance? @ POLLUTIONJR Pepper? Living a calm enough life to be SAFE? Wouldn’t dream of it. 🖤

Cuz common sense is the rarest resource @ FAMINEJR Send me your number so I can cry while hearing your voice 🖤

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR Sure, it’s in your DMs now, and Wensleydale? You were right. “Pippin Galadriel Moonchild” isn’t my real name.

Cuz common sense is the rarest resource @ FAMINEJR FUCKEN CALLED IT!

Pestilance? @ POLLUTIONJR WAIT WHAT?!

Adam @ DEATHJR THEN WHY DID THE TEACHERS CALL YOU PEPPER TOO??!?

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR Think that’s bad? Remember how all that Stuff™ went down when we all were 11? Lies, I was 9.

Cuz common sense is the rarest resource @ FAMINEJR BUT YOU WERE IN OUR CLASS

Adam @ DEATHJR WHAT THE HOME PEP?!

Pestilance? @ POLLUTIONJR HOW DID THE TEACHERS LET YOU TWO GRADES ABOVE WERE YOU REALLY THAT SMART??

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR OF COURSE I WAS YOU ASS! But nah... I ran away from home, hitchhiked, skipped the county, forged my ma’s signature to put me up for adoption, stole some adoption papers, and placed them on the mayor’s desk filled in, and as far as anyone was aware, I was now the daughter of the local hippie

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR I picked “Pippin Galadriel Moonchild” as my name because I was a massive nerd.

Adam @ DEATHJR THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK IN THAT I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN, WHAT THE FUCK PEP?!?!?

MY NAME IS AWESOME, FIGHT ME @ WARJR I’m an agent of Chaos.

Two Seconds Away From Giving Up @ JERomY Kid... __________

This thread wasn’t important, but... I just found it heartwarming that they found eachother after assuming Pepper was dead, and I found it funny. __________

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL Okay, I have convinced all of the team to say their name and position. I even managed to get everyone to get matching Team Names, and put their superpower as their user! Only those with identities revealed will have to say their name, however.-OGLB

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL This account is run by two different ladybugs. If you don’t see a signature at the end of a post, it’s Bugette, the current Ladybug. If you do, it’s me, the last Ladybug. -OGLB

Cataclysm @ ChatNoirOFFICIAL My identity is still secret, suckers!

Like I’d tell you @ RenaRougeOFFICIAL Rude. Alya cesaire. I’m a retired hero, but doing my best every day to be once again worthy to wield a miraculous. I doubt it would be the same, however, as @ NeurofoxinOFFICIAL is a much better fox than I am it seems.

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL DM me -OGLB

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL Alya! You were meant to put your special power in the user! :(

Like I’d tell you @ RenaRougeOFFICIAL I was going to, but then Viperion pointed out to me that our powers were too obvious by our special power name, and that the two of us in particular needed others to not be aware of what we can do to make us all safer.

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL That is a very sound judgement! I’m glad you thought ahead and made the wise deciscion!

Your new goth gf @ NeurofoxinOFFICIAL Rena, you’re a better fox than me, it just seems like that due to self-doubt. You are more suited to the fox than I am, it’s just that the fox is needed that I am even a holder at all. WHEN you get back on the team, I’ll either be retired or given another miraculous instead. I just have the better name.

SHELLter @ CarapaceOFFICIAL Not gonna say my name, but it’s pretty obvious if you pay attention, so just like... watch if you wanna know?

Chloé Bourgeois @ QueenBeeOFFICIAL ✔️ I used to be the best holder of the Bee Miraculous, but I gave it up to @ HoneyBeeOFFICIAL, and they are acceptable.

Wenom, uwu @ HoneyBeeOFFICIAL Thank you Chloé! I couldn’t ask for a better predecessor!

Chloé Bourgeois @ QueenBeeOFFICIAL ✔️ You are most welcome, HoneyBee!

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL Uhmm... Chloé? You were meant to put your power in the user, not your name. And everyone knows what you can do, so there’s no point hiding it from everyone. -OGLB

Chloé Bourgeois @ QueenBeeOFFICIAL ✔️ You misunderstand, Ladybug. As Chloé Bourgeois, I am well known for being rich and famous.

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL And? -OGLB

Chloé Bourgeois @ QueenBeeOFFICIAL ✔️ Being rich IS my superpower.

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL SMH -OGLB

BRB, Got sword homework @ RyukoOFFICIAL @ QueenBeeOFFICIAL @ HoneyBeeOFFICIAL I am Ryuko. While the previous Hawkmoth knew my identity, the new one does not. So I will remain in the shadows, as it is now safe for me to do so and wield once more.

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL I thought we all agreed to put our powers in our users!!

BRB, Got sword homework @ RyukoOFFICIAL My skill with a blade is much more beneficial than my power over storms, I thought it more prudent to use the talent that I actually worked for. Besides, @ ChatNoirOFFICIAL sent me a meme, and it was enough to make me laugh in front of my mother, so I decided to use it.

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL DM me about how she reacted...

Miraculous @ LadybugOFFICIAL ^Same, and Chat, stop spamming our inboxes with memes! -OGLB

Pls don’t need me so I have to use it... @ ViperionOFFICIAL I am the Aforementioned Viperion. And yes, my weapon IS what you think it is. No-one knows who I am as of right now.

Your new goth gf @ NeurofoxinOFFICIAL My identity is a secret but my name is Neurofoxin.

Creation @ Ladybug Tikki here! The current active kwamis are going to sound off. Our usernames will be what we are the kwami of, and our @ s will be what animal we represent!

The ORIGINAL @ Catwoman Plagg here.

Creation @ Ladybug PLAGG!

The ORIGINAL (Destruction, THERE, HAPPY TIKKI!?!?) @ Catwoman UGH!

Avatar @ Fire Nation Dragon Well, since Plagg already broke the rules... Longg here. And I am technically not exactly breaking the rules..

Creation @ Ladybug See what you’ve caused?!

Emotional @ Peacock Duusu here!! :D

Intuition @ sassysnake Sass here.

Timey-Wimey @ BunnyIsLate Goodbye and Hello! I am Fluff, and I won’t be active on twitter often unless I will.

Trixx @ FoxyLad Technically, I’m also following the rules. 😎

;) @ Multiplication I know I just put my special ability down, but if I put my animal representative down (rat) I’ll ruin the joke... Mullo here.

Subjection @ Busylittleworkerbee I feel like I’m one of the few that still actually listens to Tikki... Pollen, at your service!

Y’all better be rich if you talk to me @ TransportationTeleportationHorse Just providing a friendly warning... Kaalki here, and I only interact with the best.

Protection @ Turtle Wayzz here, feeling like a fool since I decided following Tikki’s rule was a good idea. __________

These two groups seem like they work together? Or they’re both coincidently animal-themed, and I’m making connections when there are none. The next few are seemingly one-off people! __________

Caroline @ GLaDOS While I never saved the world myself, I saved the life of someone who did, and that should count for something.

Refined Pig @ Waddles ✔️ ((I know this is an account for my pet pig, but the creator of this account, me, has saved the world, and Waddles was there, along with my brother, @ ConspiracyTheorist))

The government isn’t the only one hiding the truth @ ConspiracyTheorist ✔️ You make me sound like a sidekick like I didn’t save your behind multiple times.

Danny Phantom’s cousin @ CALLHIMINVISOBILL Dani Phantom here! I save Amity Park, plus the world, and I’m cute to boot!

Red @ Huntress @ CALLHIMINVISOBILL is my sidekick, ignore her.

Danny Phantom’s cousin @ CALLHIMINVISOBILL Rude!

Danny PHANTOM @ GhostKingOFFICIAL ✔️ DON’T CALL ME INVISO-BILL

Danny Phantom’s cousin (Ghost Princess?) @ CALLHIMINVISOBILL You love me! 💙💚

Danny PHANTOM @ GhostKingOFFICIAL ✔️ I know you are using those for the color aesthetic, but I hope you know the blue heart represents loyalty, because you have absolutely none of that for me.

Danny Phantom’s cousin (Ghost Princess?) @ CALLHIMINVISOBILL True... How’d you even find this account anyway?

Danny PHANTOM @ GhostKingOFFICIAL ✔️ I know better than to not keep an eye on you. I’ve known for months. __________

And that’s all for now! I know we’re missing some, like Batman and my uncle, but they should be on by tomorrow. An update will be posted then!

[katsukisbeatingheart]

if you want

· - - - -

he has a bit of a difficult time being patient.

word count: 2143

a03

pt. 2

It was a little untoward but did as good a job as any.

A blush burst like confetti in a rage rash across his cheeks; and if you didn't know any better, you'd think the mighty Katsuki was actually maybe a little embarrassed.

"Well?"

He shifted in his place, trying—and failing—to maintain a façade of a complacent blasé boy just casually asking out a close friend.

"Close" was a bit of a stretch for you. Yes, you found him quite brash and obnoxious and a little insensitive; but you couldn't deny what he meant to you. At least, you thought highly of him, and you were sure you could tell him anything—but you weren't positive that was reciprocated.

Was he one of your best friends? Yes.

Would you even dare to ask him how he felt about you? No.

You! Didn't! Want! To! Ruin! What! You! Had! It had taken what seemed like ages for him to finally warm up to you, without, like, actually exploding—and if you think you'd run the risk of watching that go down in flames? You considered yourself an idiot.

However, unbeknownst to you—Katsuki thought you were the world. If he could put it to words and send them out through that angry trap cursing everything to hell—he'd say you were a force of nature. A worthy rival, a trusted partner, and a kind and wonderful friend.

Except all he's got are angry bees and a tornado in his brain, at all times. As such, anyone he admired, he felt the need to challenge. On all levels physical, he planned to annihilate them. Which wasn't necessarily the case, well, in your case.

Although, there were—a few physical levels— He shook that thought away. That's an idea for a later date. The blush flared. 'Much later.'

But really, he loved provoking you. Only because you're so cute and intelligent and warm and messy—so, so messy—and he got a serious kick out of that. You're complex and human and alive. Despite your faults, you refused to let anything stop you in the end game—you refused to let that keep you from what you wanted. He watched you grow, and evolve and adapt to those weaknesses, and suddenly the line between strengths and not began to blur. He even dared to call you one of his personal heroes.

Thankfully for him, no one in the class noticed for the longest time.

Unsurprisingly, Kirishima was the first.

Bakugo would casually watch you walk into the room, head in his hand, eyes trailing each step you took. A silent Ejirou, sitting beside his best friend minding his own business, would look up startled—at the now fuming boy with a hand to his temple, or rubbing the back of his neck.

"You alright there, man?"

"Stomachache."

The dear boy would stare on in confusion, but keep to himself—a man's business was his business. Puzzled, he witnessed Katsuki all but sprint out the door, noticeably more red than his usual complexion. Then, minutes later, Katsuki would return, smelling notably more of burning sugar, and looking like he'd run maybe half a mile. Kiri wouldn't question it. Until, after that, across the room you'd laugh at something Denki or Ochacko had said, and Bakugo would stand right back up again.

"What's wrong?"

"It's back again." And that'd be the end of that.

It became a reoccurring thing throughout the weeks, when finally—bewilderdly—Kirishima would come to the conclusion Katsuki had been stubbornly avoiding. He popped the question a few weeks later.

"You like someone, don't you."

Class had taken a recess, and his best friend took the liberty to gravitate toward him with a pencil and notebook in hand to work on an upcoming assignment—hopefully without being disturbed, which already wasn't happening.

Bakugo's whole body twitched. "I– you– what– you weirdo what is that supposed to mean?"

Kirishima blinked owlishly at his friend. He wasn't sure what to say next, as he honestly didn't think he'd get this far.

"Well... you've been acting kinda strange lately... around someone in particular..."

Bakugo raised his eyebrows defensively. He hoped that did a good job of masking his expression, because he suddenly had a pretty good idea as to where this was going.

"Well, I mean..." Kirishima dragged a path along with his eyes, coming to a stop at an angle, gazing at you covertly through his lashes. Katsuki rolled his eyes, trying really hard to keep his heart from racing anymore than it already was. He pointedly looked back down at his paper, a tighter grip on his pencil.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Eijiro couldn't keep a grin from crawling across his smug face.

"Oh, but I think you do."

After that, the secret couldn't keep to itself and the rest of the class began to trickle into the loop. Much to the surprise of everyone, they weren't all that surprised because they thought you're quite wonderful. But Katsuki? And a crush?

He couldn't help it; the guy seriously respected you.

With all of the determination rivalling theirs to become professional heroes, the class set to work on making this happen. They split up and rearranged classroom chores, made up excuses as to why they couldn't make it to study sessions where you and Bakugo attended, and shut out any outside obstacles—curfews, misplaced lunch seatings, Mineta.

"Oh, no, it's okay! You go ahead, I've got this," you chirped, in a positively upbeat mood. It was so absurdly warm, Kaminari felt guilty about moping the entire day to get out of his after school tasks. He'd managed to convince you he had a sick baby bird at home to tend to, before having to return to the dorms later tonight. Of course, that was a lie.

'It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause.' Denki knew he was a simpleton; but he'd be damned if he didn't have his moments.

"Are you sure? I'd really hate to trouble you, ya know," he offered, conjuring his best solicitous veneer, silently hoping he wasn't overdoing it now.

"No, yeah! Go on ahead; I heard you mention you had some personal things to take care of—you sounded really stressed about it." Denki had to will himself from openly clutching his chest and bursting into tears.

'Attentive and kind as always! I would expect nothing less of you.'

He opened his mouth to reply with something a little more heartfelt, but the burning gaze of Mina—probably stealthily situated peering through the windows facing the hall—stared holes into the back of his head. Kaminari's mouth snapped shut, and he took that as his cue to bounce. "Great! Awesome. Noice, thank you—" he rambled in an absolutely-not-guilty-at-all lilt. At the door though, he paused, throwing a suggestive smile over his shoulder, "—you kids have fun."

You wrinkled your eyebrows, not yet having received the eight new text messages from your other friends, conveniently busy with their own matters, as well.

After a while, Katsuki came to realize that this dancing around his feelings business was getting to be a little old. He felt pathetic, ordinarily used to tackling things head on. It took some serious convincing, on his part—but he knew what he wanted.

He tried small things, at first—microscopic, all considered, but this was Bakugo. Katsuki began propping doors open for you to pass by if you were walking together, like a real gentleman would.

He dropped snacks by your desk;"You forgot your money again, didn't you, dumbass?"

Always kept an extra water bottle on hand with your name on it; "Don't need you passing out during class, idiot."

He even gave you a little star sticker he had "found" on his way back from an orthodontist appointment; "It was stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I don't want it, you take it." It was in too perfect condition for that to be true.

By then he felt silly, recognizing that this probably wasn't going to be enough to get his point across; even if his friends, at least, noticed the small attempts (trying very hard to keep their mouths shut, all the while).

Katsuki didn't know where the fire was, but eventually he'd had enough of himself. This was going to happen, and it was going to happen today.

After an afternoon of mulling and seriously suppressed grins, Bakugo approached you with an imperceptibly wavering stride. He could launch himself into the heat of a fight no problem, but Katsuki Bakugo was not perfect—no matter how arrogant and prideful he was to admit that.

"Hey. Come practice with me."

You blinked in surprise, running your fingers along the hem of your uniform almost self consciously. It was nearing the evening, and you'd figured he would've joined everyone in studying back at the dorms.

'Although, I suppose sparring is a form of studying,' you reasoned with yourself.

'But... why me?'

He brought you to a secluded clearing, amongst the woodlands surrounding the campus. It wasn't so deep in as to hide evidence, but it was free enough from prying eyes and ears—he made sure of that, with a totally justified menacing promise on his classmates' lives. The overhang of leaves, swooping branches, and glistening waters—complete with lil frogs leaping amongst the moss—made this probably one of the best places he could think of for this exact situation. It was definitely the most fairy tale thing he had ever seen, which said a lot—his mother had dragged him and his father to TDL on many an occasion when he was a child.

Of course, he supposed it was just his stupid, newly developed romantic bastard brain romanticizing everything.

Setting the scene was the trick—because if that had gone wrong, then this would've been glossing near "patronizing", and would probably be much closer to a threat. In a way, you wryly wondered if it really was.

"Hey," he nearly barked. "Anyone home?"

You'd been standing in a silent stupor long enough for Katsuki to grow nervous-impatient. He'd put his hands in his pockets and kicked a little bit at the ground beneath him, trying to maintain some sense of calm. The glower in his eyes gave him away.

Your lips popped open in a fish face motion as you grappled for your words. "I–I– I'm really– I–" Your tongue stumbled over itself. Katsuki gave you an expectant look and you felt your cheeks turn a brand new shade of red.

"I just– I can't– I don't–"

You tried so hard, trying to find the right words. They stubbornly refused to appear, wrestling with each other in the deepest part of your gradually dizzying consciousness. Your hands trembled, waving around aimlessly, making a point you hadn't even begun to form yet.

Bakugo suddenly felt as though he had hit a wall. An invisible one, because this was exactly the thing he was trying to avoid. It grated at his ego and he was slowly getting more and more agitated, his deepest insecurities writhing under his skin. You stuttered and gestured, wringing your slicked palms on your clothes.

After a long, silent moment, his face fell into a stone cold stare you'd never seen directed at you before. It morphed from uncertainty, to a grimace you associated with catching a bad smell, and into an equable scowl. Your heart thumped to the pit of your stomach.

A forcibly steady breath through the nose. "Fine."

He straightened his posture.

"I get it."

The dark look stared down at you, something you were sure was one of his special moves. "It's whatever. It doesn't matter, anyway." Except it did.

Your eyebrows knitted, your pulse quickening. "Katsuki, I– that's not–"

Biting back a sneer, Bakugo seethed through his teeth. "Save it," he hissed. "I don't want to fucking do this if I'm the only one giving my all."

The shock that came to you is what you assumed being struck by lightning felt like. You wanted to laugh, and tell him that was such a Katsuki thing to say in a situation like this; but he was already stomping away, taking strides to double yours.

"Katsuki, wait!" You called out, feeling coming back to your legs, and made to move in after him. "Katsuki!"

His silhouette gradually disappeared into the leaves that had initially felt so welcoming, like they promised something.

You went as quick as you could, mindful of the roots and pockets of earth at your feet.

As Bakugo slid out of reach, his words were a deafening whisper in the hushed world around you.

"Just—leave me alone."

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{a/n: hello!! i have this split up bc i wanted to write a few more scenes under the same premise... plus!! having something extra to do gives me a little more motivation & inspiration to make new things; thanks for reading<3}