#the way i am so weirdly good at making up little tiny quirks about a character but the fucking MINUTE i have to do life plotting it all goe

[honeyboyfelix]

sending my dm my horrible scattered ideas vs. me having just the worst 2 weeks ever

[firethekitty]

okay you reblog a lot of albums ive never heard of and am curious about but it’s hard to get myself to sit down and listen to a whole album so please please, Top Ten-ish Songs To Get To Know You kind of list? pretty please?

i literally daydream about people asking me stuff like this LOL. so this is hardly a comprehensive list of all my favorite songs ever but here are some songs that are really important to me!!! this got REALLY long so i put it under a read more

1. meet me in the woods by lord huron

my absolute favorite song Ever like of all time. means everything to me. i could listen to this every single day and never get tired of it. INSANELY fun, incredible vibes, makes me want to go outside and shoot a beam into somebody. lord huron is an Experience. all their albums are concept albums and there’s actually a fair amount of lore going on. on the physical CD for strange trails it actually has the characters’ names next to their respective songs

for meet me in the woods, it sounds very upbeat and happy, but listen closely and you’ll realize it’s not quite as it seems… in-universe, it’s narrated by a woman named francine lu, and the song has the same chords as the first track of the album (and another of her songs) “love like ghosts”. she also narrates “the night we met”, easily LH’s most famous song. francine lu is not having a normal one. what’s her problem? listen to find out…..

2. crystals by of monsters and men

this was my favorite song ever for about 6 years until meet me in the woods ranked just a tiny bit higher. sooo fucking fun, itches a part of my brain that’s only accessible via icelandic stomp & holler. makes me very happy and always cheers me up! of monsters and men was the first new (at the time) band i ever really discovered on my own without hearing about from my parents or other people, and i’ve been listening to them ever since (almost 13 years!!) they are incredibly important to me and i highly recommend all of their albums

3. sunblind by fleet foxes

relatively new but became a favorite as soon as i heard it. this is also one of the most Me songs i can think of on top of just being so fucking gorgeous and raw and heartfelt. this song is a tribute to deceased musicians who influenced robin pecknold (the lead singer and songwriter for fleet foxes) and how their music is pretty much the reason he’s even alive today. my favorite lines are “only way that i made it for a long time / but i’m loud and alive, singing you all night”. this entire album is sincerely a masterpiece and i highly recommend listening to it all. fleet foxes have really beautiful and unique lyrics, they remind me of mitski’s lyrics in that they’re very poetic and personal and emotional but still subjective enough that you can connect them to your own life

4. this must be the place by talking heads

specifically the stop making sense live recording, which i still half-refuse to believe is a live recording because it’s just THAT fucking good. whenever someone says david byrne can’t sing i direct them here, because he does sincerely have an incredible voice and he simply Chooses to sing weirdly bc he’s a quirked up white boy with autistic swag.

this is just a really sweet and romantic song from a band that otherwise stays far away from love songs and it works extremely well. this entire album is fucking incredible and easily the best live album of all time. half of them are BETTER than the studio recordings, and you can also watch david byrne leap straight up backwards like a full 4 feet

highly recommend watching stop making sense just the entire film

5. vein of stars by the flaming lips

back in 2014, i watched a very beloved streamer play a game called “space engine”, in which you explore as much of the universe as we’ve theorized to exist. this was a little before copyright laws got so fucking strict on youtube and twitch, so mr. vinny vinesauce could play any music he wanted while planet-hopping. one of those songs was vein of stars, and it’s been one of my absolute favorites ever since.

the flaming lips are definitely an acquired taste. wayne coyne does Not have a very good voice and it can get extremely grating, especially to someone who hasn't heard them before. but when it works, god it works. this song is so pretty and nostalgic to me, always calms me down whenever i’m In A Mood. it’s nihilistic but not in a depressing way, more like “yeah maybe we aren’t here for any particular reason, maybe there’s nothing after this life. there’s nothing we can do about that, so why worry?”. very peaceful. REQUIRED listening when stargazing

6. good old-fashioned lover boy by queen

one of the first songs i ever truly hyperfixated on. unfortunately i listened to it SO fucking much it kind of ruined it for me, but i still do really love it. i may not listen to it that often anymore but i felt obligated to put it here bc it had a Profound Effect on my developing brain

7. too much time by john vanderslice

the year is 2012 and you're halfway through the newest episode of the hit podcast welcome to nightvale. cecil announces the weather. little do you know that you will carry the next 3 and a half minutes with you for the rest of your life. this one is just absurdly nostalgic to me (and not to mention incredibly vash the stampede coded). beloved song!!!

8. waltz for zizi & the real folk blues by the seatbelts & mai yamane

well it’s no secret that i think cowboy bebop has the greatest anime soundtrack of all time and one of THE greatest soundtracks of all time Ever. this is just an objective fact actually.

i believe this is because the seatbelts and specifically the composer yoko kanno studied real jazz, blues, and bebop to make the ost. like it's not just "jazz-flavored", there is genuine, deep respect and you can hear it in every single track. waltz for zizi gives me physical goosebumps every single time i listen to it, it's absolutely perfect. i've made it a ritual to listen to every time i visit the shore at night and go stargazing. sincerely transcendent experience

9. cuckoo song by cosmo sheldrake

hhhhhrrr this entire fucking albummmm hhhhhhhrhhhhrhhhaauuuuUUUUOOOGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!! AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

back during my final semesters of college, i had to take a course for art degree seniors. we’d pick something we were passionate about, make art for it, and it would be hung up for a week in the exhibition room. i chose birds of course, but wake-up calls inspired me to shift that choice to something more important than just random funny bird drawings. i focused on bird species that have gone extinct within the last 60 years because wake-up calls is made almost entirely out of endangered bird songs.

i’ll be honest i can barely listen to this song or anything on the album because i WILL literally start sobbing like in real life. cuckoo song in particular just makes me start crying every single time i listen to it, it’s like a magic spell. it’s not even necessarily sad but just viscerally bittersweet. the art for the album is made by flora wallace. here’s the spotify canvas i made a gif just for you 👍

10. take you back by orville peck

and finally………….. the song that made me realize that i actually DO love real country music a lot, and that the derivative “bro country” sub-genre that developed in the early 2000s has absolutely destroyed any positive opinion of country music in society. we NEED to go back, and orville peck is more than doing his part. this is the first song i ever heard by him and it's just so goddamn fun. i am completely unable to not sing along to this when it comes on

not only do i highly recommend orville peck but also any country music from the 50s and 60s, especially marty robbins, charley pride, conway twitty, and of course mrs. dolly parton. and later country rock/folk rock bands like america and creedence clearwater revival. it’s SO good i’m so serious

orville peck is the only modern country singer i can think of who's not afraid to bring back the harmonicas and whistling and steel guitars and whip cracks and yeehaws. it's fantastic. he's also gay and an outspoken trans ally. i believe this gives him the power to revive country music from the dead 🙏

[andypantsx3]

subtle | shouto todoroki/reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,171 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You're determined to track down the sender, certain it's a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

There was a box on your desk.

There was a box on your desk, and the sight of it was enough to instantly set you on edge.

The box looked normal enough, if a little fancy, maybe. Its lacquered top glinted brightly under the fluorescent office lighting, its smooth, polished sides waterfalling into the soft matte of your desktop underneath. You weren’t close enough to read the inscription, but you could just make out some elegant, curling script inlaid into the top of the box, possibly the name of whichever company had produced it.

The box looked very normal, in fact. Only, you knew it wasn’t. Boxes didn’t just show up in the middle of the Todoroki Hero Agency, a campus swimming with pros and armed with layers of security so deep it took even you--Shouto Todoroki’s manager--fifteen full minutes to get through screening every morning. It was something very much like being a prison guard at Tartarus.

So either this box meant the agency was dealing with a security breach the likes of which had scarcely been seen before, or someone had mistaken your desk for somebody else’s.

Which, considering it was Valentine’s Day, made a lot more sense.

Buoyed by the realization it wasn't a security risk, you crept closer, peering at the box, and the script resolved itself into the name of the extremely fancy chocolatier in Hiroo district that you made a point of drooling over every time you had to make a house call on Shouto. Their prices were literally insane, so you had never let yourself wander inside, unwilling to shell out an entire week’s pay for a tiny set of chocolates. Even if they did look absolutely fucking unbelievable from the window.

Your mouth watered.

That confirmed it--this was a Valentine's gift, and it was definitely a mistake. For the briefest of seconds, you’d wondered if maybe you had gotten obligatory office friendship chocolates, but this was too much. Some poor, love-sodden flop had gone out, spent their week’s pay on someone they were clearly very serious about, and then proceeded to fuck the entire thing up by plonking their gift straight onto your desk instead of their intended’s.

You frowned, quickly checking the box over for some kind of clue as to who had left it. There was no note included, nothing even mildly helpful that would give you the slightest hint of the person who'd left it here. Which left you with the question of how to return the box to the sender without knowing who they were, or how to pass it on to whoever they’d really meant it for.

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, staring hard at the surface of the box like you could crack its code if only you glared hard enough. The box stared back at you, unhelpfully silent.

You were still skewering the box with your gaze some minutes later, determined to unravel its secrets, when a deep voice murmured from your doorway.

“You look puzzled."

You startled, whipping around to find Shouto propping up the wall, looking as unfairly handsome as usual. He was watching you intently, those heterochromatic eyes fastened to your face in that careful way he had, the one that always made you feel too warm and slightly unfocused. As usual, it was all you could do to remind yourself that you were a professional and he was something solidly between a friend and a coworker, and no matter how cute and attentive he was, you shouldn't get any ideas.

This morning, he was dressed in his hero uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, his distinctive hair only a little ruffled from his early patrol. It wasn’t often someone tried something in the districts he watched over anymore, probably too nervous to find themselves on the wrong end of the number four hero’s temper. You knew from the reports you received to your phone that the only trouble he’d encountered this morning was a pack of amorous school girls purposely misusing their quirks to draw his attention.

Thirty minutes ago, in fact, you’d almost spit out your coffee laughing at a photo of him looking wildly uncomfortable as he attempted to ice down some girl’s lava quirk with his right hand while fighting off her unfathomably enormous bouquet with his left. It was only right that he should suffer once a year, when every other day he got to stalk about as handsome as you please, oblivious to the effects his appearance had on every breathing person within a five mile radius.

You gave him an absent nod, gaze drawn back to the box on your desk.

“Somebody accidentally left something in here,” you told him, gesturing to it. “I’m trying to figure out how to track down who it was, or who it was meant for.”

Shouto made a small noise in the back of his throat, almost like a cough, and it was enough to startle you into looking up at him again.

“What?” you asked, peering at him. Was he coming down with something? It wasn't often he got sick, but when he did, he usually attempted to hide it and needed to be steamrolled into taking time off. You looked him over, trying to assess whether or not you needed to start badgering him now.

Shouto gazed back at you evenly, his expression deceptively bland. “...You think it’s not for you.”

You felt yourself blink at him, surprised by the comment and struggling to discern his meaning. What did he mean, you think it’s not for you? “Of course it’s not for me, Shouto, it’s from Grégoire Chardin.”

You knew he’d know the place, considering he lived in the same fancy rich people neighborhood as the chocolatier, but Shouto looked unimpressed.

“Why should that mean it’s not for you?” he asked, his tone dry.

The remark caught you off guard, as his comments sometimes did, and you bit down something like a smile. Bless his sweet, oblivious, rich boy heart. Either he overestimated your appeal to his agency staff, or he really did not understand the concepts of cost and return on investment.

“It’s expensive, it’s not something you would give someone as obligatory chocolates,” you explained, watching as a white eyebrow went up. His expression sharpened into something you couldn’t read well.

“It could be a secret admirer,” he said.

You stared blankly back at him, absolutely floored by the idea.

He thought you had a secret admirer? The idea sent an excited thrill all the way down to your toes, but you quickly squashed the feeling. So far, you'd never been on the receiving end of any furtive but romantic gestures, and you really didn't get any interested vibes from anyone in the office, no lingering glances or excuses to spend more time with you. The person who paid you the most amount of attention was Shouto, which was to be expected, considering how closely you worked together. And obviously he wasn't interested, he was just happy to stand in your doorway spouting wild conspiracies about his agency staffers like they were completely reasonable things to say.

“I don’t have a secret admirer,” you told him.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a thin line and he took an intent step forward into your office. “Is the point of a secret admirer not to be exactly that--secret? How can you be sure?”

You couldn’t help it--you gaped at him, your face going weirdly warm. Okay, was he--was he serious? You obviously weren’t the most unfortunate creature on earth, and you even had your good days, but nobody in their right mind was going to attempt anything with you when there were girls like Nejire Hado and Ibara Shiozaki roaming the hallways of his agency. Even several of the analysts and most of the support crew had you beat out in terms of appeal--literally bless this man for his obvious indifference to your appearance.

“I, uh--thanks for your confidence in me,” you said, fighting down a laugh. “But I assure you, it definitely wasn’t meant for me. I just have to figure out who left it and who they meant it for.”

Shouto shifted impatiently, like he was waiting for something.

“You’re so certain,” he said, sounding frustrated.

“Of course I am,” you waved at him vaguely. It was actually super cute that he thought you could net yourself a dude who was willing to shell out Grégoire Chardin dollars, but you were just wasting time now, lingering over the least important part of this entire affair. “Listen, Shouto. I know sometimes men talk in the locker rooms. If you--if you hear anything, will you let me know? I just want to return it, it looks way too good sitting here.”

It was actually taking all your willpower not to open it and avail yourself of Japan’s finest chocolate, considering you would never have another opportunity like this again. Maybe you should just pretend it was for you....Really, no one could fault you for opening something left in your own office. But...no. No, you knew better.

Shouto appeared indifferent to your internal struggle. He watched you for a long moment, his features impassive. “Under one condition,” he finally allowed.

You cocked an ear to show you were listening, rifling around with the paperwork on your desk to distract yourself from the chocolate. You were strong, a good person. You had willpower like steel. You did not need to eat it, no no no.

“If no one comes looking for it by the end of the day, you will open it,” he said, moving closer.

You glanced up at him, shocked. “Shouto, this is someone else’s gift,” you hissed. “I can’t just open it.”

He placed a large palm down on your desk, leaning over you slightly. “That is my bargain.”

“You want me to steal somebody’s shit in your own agency,” you accused him. You tried not to pay attention to how close he had gotten, how straight his nose was up close, the way his eyes seemed brighter and his mouth pulled into a pout almost too pretty for a man.

The rest of his expression slipped into something like annoyance, matching his pout. “If no one comes for it, then it must be evident that it was meant for you.”

You suppressed a derisive laugh. Now was not the time to get shirty with your own boss, especially when his delusions were kind of sweet. It was honestly just short of a miracle that a man who looked like Shouto did could possibly think anyone on earth would have a thing for you, regardless of his own tastes.

“What if they’re just too shy to ask for it back?” you asked, watching those heterochromatic eyes flick over you curiously.

“If it’s as expensive as you say, someone will come looking,” he said. Which was actually kind of annoyingly reasonable.

A smirk flitted across his maddeningly perfect face when you failed to come up with another argument. He had a point, and he knew it.

You let out a gusty sigh. “Fine, but only because I’m certain someone will come looking for it. Please be subtle when you’re gathering info, okay? I'm sure this is embarrassing for whoever made this mistake.”

Shouto looked almost offended. “I am perfectly capable of being subtle,” he intoned in his deep voice.

This time, you did laugh. He was quiet, maybe, very perceptive, and unobtrusive when he wanted to be, but no one had ever accused the man of possessing tact. “Yeah, okay. Just, try to channel more subtlety than you think you need, okay? No one else but the sender needs to know about the mix up.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Shouto was leaning over you more fully, eyes glittering strangely as his clean, fresh scent met your nose. You froze in your chair, brain going horrifyingly vacant as he leaned impossibly nearer. What the fuck was he doing?

“It will be like I’m not even asking,” Shouto promised, his voice light. “Not asking anyone at all.”

You tried to scrape your thoughts back into something resembling order, but the effort was all but futile. You needed to get him out of your space stat before you embarrassed yourself.

”Okay, then it’s a deal,” you said quickly. “Now go...flambé a villain or something.”

Shouto lingered for a long moment, his mouth curling a little at the corner, like he was being let in on a secret you couldn’t hear. His eyes brushed over you, almost like a physical touch. And then he was gone, pulling open the door to your office, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“You will see,” he said by way of farewell. “You will find out how subtle I can be.”

You stared at him in confusion, but he didn’t explain himself. He just smirked, and closed the door behind himself.

[comehomeducklings]

Past [Part 3] (Obsession)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1940 - 3rd year

There’s no chance of getting out of this. Our mentor must be out of their mind. No smooth sailing this period, not for me. Nothing at all has prepared me for this point in time.

My heartbeat rises by the second. At the brink of jumping out of my chest. I constantly try to reassure myself as I prepare. Forcing the illusion that I have everything together.

I most definitely don’t have anything, not a crumb, together.

My hands sweat with anticipation, my wand almost slipping off multiple times. The magical stick even wants to run away from this situation. I’ll start running with it soon enough.

The whole room is quiet in expectation. The tension levels in this area are too high for me to even start to comprehend. All I can hear is the sounds of my breathing and the occasional ruffle of robes. The high regard these people hold for me isn’t doing me any favors. I’m about to ruin any confidence anyone holds in my skills.

My friends are holding their thumbs up for encouragement. It does little to calm my panic, but I appreciate the effort anyway. Other acquaintances from the same house nodded their heads in an attempt to console my emotions.

Before the teacher signals to start, he gives us a bit to come up with a plan. Ten seconds at most. Now, this isn’t something possible to win. Not against him, no. My only goal here is to last as long as I can and don’t mess up.

Act smart, seem like you know more than you do.

He looks as easy-going as ever. This may seem like a walk in the gardens to him. No “threat” whatsoever to make him feel uneasy. I’m quite irritated at the thought of being anything but a challenge. He may be a little right, but that doesn’t help my ego.

Easy, I’m nothing easy.

Riddle might be stronger at this, but that doesn’t mean I'm complete garbage. I can hold my own, I will hold my own.

My breathing patterns change into more of a deep inhale and exhale. Focusing on completely dropping my heart rate and keeping my thoughts intact. Madam Rose, the school nurse, hates seeing me walk in there. Frequent visits from dealing with plants has her hair getting pulled out. I don’t think Miss Rose would be too keen on me passing out from the lack of oxygen.

“Only stick with the one basic spell of force. For both offensive and defensive tactics.”

Riddle’s atmosphere surrounding him is focused, deadly. He hasn’t moved his gaze from my lips. Probably on guard for whenever I cast something. I’m slightly unsteady on my feet from nerves. It’s almost suffocating being under all these watchful eyes.

A snake takes their time to strike. They examine all angles where you may be weak. Testing the vulnerability of your actions and thinking process. A few testing snaps of their mouth can tell them how the fight will go. They are well-balanced and focused, masters of intimidation.

Breathing.

Oxygen informs the snake how much you’re able to hold on for. The more you intake, the tighter it gets. Restricting the amount of oxygen the prey respires. Until they are physically unable to anymore, slowly weakening. The fight they were presenting lessens to almost non-distinguishable. The prey’s struggling to get free, dying down. Then it passes away, openly given to the snake without any more thought. A mere temporary meal in its eyes.

“Begin.”

Our eye contact is steady, neither of us moving an inch. Our mouths are closed shut, wands at the ready. I slightly squint my eyes while I focus. If he’s waiting for me to go first he is out of luck. I’m not budging, we will stay in the same position until next period if we have to.

Riddle also slightly squints his eyes. His hand doesn’t shake even if his wand was out in the air for a long time. The arm he holds out is steady and unmoving. Nothing triggers my attention since his movements are of little importance. I search his eyes for any life, no emotion is found swirling in those charcoal black eyes. Absolutely brilliant and fierce when focused or aggravated. The class starts getting rowdy, finally allowed to talk since Riddle just made the first move.

There’s only one spell I need to remember, that makes it a little easier to think of ways to find my opening. I quickly revert the spell away from me and send it right back. A tennis match is played between that one spell. Tom huffs and sends his enchantment straight towards the ground. It bursts into tiny magical specks of green. During that time I sent a spell his way.

After a while, I start to notice right before he casts a spell he moves his mouth like he inhales to take a breath. I’ve noticed him do it quite often. Since he casts fairly quickly there wasn’t much to go off of. Not much to use to my advantage. When he “inhales” he’s most of the time not actually breathing in air. It’s just a simple movement he does. It might be because of his accent, the way he learned to talk. Quite a small little quirk of the lips.

To start testing out this theory I centered most of my attention on his mouth. Waiting to see if my theory was reliable enough to depend on. He’s starting to gain more offensive attacks on me. Most of my spells undecidedly move more defensive by the minute.

Right before he mutters the words, I send a spell of my own. The magic aiming for his knees. Before he could defend himself from that one I prepared another offensive conjuration to his wand. He forwarded an incantation my way and I hurriedly obviated the sorcery as it was also heading to my stifle joint. Some of the force still slightly makes contact with my left knee. My balance is suddenly thrown off.

As I scramble to catch my footing, Riddle with point accuracy parries my wand attack. Then diverts my knee attack towards my right knee. Since I was focused on stabilizing my posture I didn’t notice the spell approaching my other knee

Forthcoming my inevitable demise.

I end up planting both hands on the ground. My knees falling one after the other from the pressure.

Our audience starts yelling complaints and praise. Calls for a rematch and cheats. My loss was bound to happen, but I did get to do that three combo. Two offensive and one defensive, all in the span of 5 seconds. Not too bad if I say so myself.

“Mr. Riddle wins this duel. Excellent job to the both of you. A very good strategy was well thought out for each side.”

I make my way down the steps on my platform’s side. Immediately being greeted by hugs and pats on the back.

At least my feet didn’t get tied together from restlessness causing me to fall and he wins the duel immediately. I would have dropped out right then and there from embarrassment.

There’s barely any feedback for Riddle, his little posse praising him like a king. People either saw no fault in him or were too frightened to actually comment on it publicly.

For me, that’s another case. Quite a bit of suggestions are offered, keep my form ready and my attention on more than one thing. Any and all advice is welcomed. Who knows how it can help me one day.

Amelia hugs my side with the biggest grin on her face, “You did so well! I think he actually had to work a little for that win.”

Everyone is dismissed and we head our way to Herbology. Tom’s face looks as if he’s already forgotten about the duel. His body language remains tranquil as ever.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Bubotuber pus, one of the grossest things I’ve had the misfortune of learning at home. Now I have to live through it again? How can one endure harvesting the essence?

“All of you are required to wear gloves for today’s class. Does anyone know what effects you would have when touching this substance with your bare skin?”

Quite a number of students raise their hands. I’m guessing they did research on why they needed to buy these gloves when handed the school procurement catalog.

Exactly what I did, curiosity might actually kill the cat.

“Yes, you sweet girl,” she picks, “What’s your name?”

“Merlene,” the student answers, “If you touch this without protection then extremely painful boils will appear in its stead.”

“Correct! 5 points to Hufflepuff,” she claps.

My fingers already lay inside the dragon-hide gloves. Its rough texture rubs against the calluses from dealing with the harsh stems of different plants.

This substance is usually processed to be used for acne treatments. Only touched in its weakened state. Oddly satisfying to some, I am not a part of that group of people

“This is disgusting,” I say as I harvest the pus. My gagging reflexes acting up every time the plant gets squeezed.

A few students chuckle at my remark. They seem to be having a good time, weirdly focused on this substance. It smells of petrol, not a big fan of the scent. Reminds me of the sketchy gas stations my parents and I would take on family road trips.

Its thick goo is finally contained in bottles. Relief washes over me from finishing the collecting process. My gloves are removed and I do a quick spell to clean my area. Nothing really fell on it so it didn’t need scrubbing beforehand.

Amelia seems to just be finishing her plant. A lot of goo splashed all over her table. Luckily it doesn’t seem like any of that touched anyone’s face or uncovered arms.

“I’m just about done, can you help with cleaning please?” Amelia starts collecting all of her bottles into her arms. None of the glass vials touched in green gunk.

“Yeah, I got you, turn those in to the professor.” I immediately started helping her out. In that process, I also cleaned other’s messes too. Why not, there is still time to waste until we can all leave. Cleaning products smell better than whatever chemicals intoxicate the air.

“Pop quiz, shout out the answers. Why not use spells instead of treated bubotuber pus for treatments?”

Easy question, I whisper the answer in Amelia’s ear when she comes back from turning in the assignment so she can shout it.

“Using spells proves to be too risky, like the Eloise Midgen incident,” she answers.

Good, she remembers Eloise's event.

“Yeah, she cursed her nose off, poofed from existence,” a girl from Hufflepuff adds.

“Precisely, everyone has permission to leave now,” the professor exclaims, “don’t head out without cleaning or I’ll reduct points. Last time a student got boils all over their hand from an improperly cleaned station.”

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“It actually went decently. Nothing blew up, surprisingly.”

At lunch, we are all talking about our first three classes. Potions being our first topic.

“Thought as much, I saw your stupid grin. You looked like you just won the wizarding lottery,” I say with my mouth stuffed with food. Hoping they could understand me between my chews.

“Both of you, slow down. The food ain’t going anywhere damn,” Devyn laughs.

Amelia and I pause, we look at each other, then at Devyn, then back to us. After a silent halt in our actions, we continue to shove down a bunch of food.

“I noticed you kept gagging at the pus. You looked queasy, your face was so pale.”

I audibly shiver at the recollection of said class. My eyes were watering so bad there. That stuff would never stop coming.

“I’m eating, stop mentioning that nasty stuff,” Amelia starts shaking her head. If only I could see the thoughts forcefully being shaken out of her head.

“You should have seen her station. That stuff was everywhere. How bad is your aim, the opening to the bottle wasn’t that small?”

“It wasn’t even that!” she drops her fork, “I squeezed that bloody plant too hard and it squirted everywhere!”

“Poor choice of words,” Devyn snickers. All she gets is a shove from me.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, she’s clearly traumatized.”

Devyn shoves me back, “You’re clearly traumatized from the duel. The one you failed at, the one-”

“I’m aware of the duel you’re talking about,” I interrupt, “I bet you wouldn’t have lasted as long as I did.”

“Oh please, you’re just salty about losing.”

I roll my eyes and subconsciously scan the room for him. There he is, mysteriously talking to his group of buddies. After a little bit, he catches onto my staring. He briefly looked around him to see if I was looking at something else. Finally, he comes to the realization it was in fact him I was blessing with my attention.

During this, he was talking to his friend next to him. He stopped his conversation to completely give me his attention. The guy he was just talking to engaged in another conversation quickly.

The moment was interrupted with hands waving in front of my face, “You gonna eat that?”

“Nah I’m full, go ahead.”

Riddle continued on with his food. Never looking my way again.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“Hey, uh, Riddle you have a second?”

I stop him by tapping his shoulder a couple of times. His height already makes mountains seem molecular.

He furrowed his eyebrows and glances at the shoulder I just touched. Making it a scene to dust that part off, what an ass.

“No, I really don’t have a second,” he responds.

“Well that, really, sucks for you huh. Can you teach me techniques for dueling?”

“No,” he starts to turn away.

“Please, you will get one favor from me. Whatever you need.”

Tom turns back around, “Anything? Does that favor expire?”

I shake my head no. If he plans to wait a long time he’ll probably forget about it. He seems to be deep in thought for a bit. No rush really since we're on our break. If he agrees I could get ahead of so many competitors.

“Fine, every Friday afternoon starting tomorrow in the Room of Requirement.”

He immediately strides away while I stare back in shock. My brain didn’t expect him to actually accept. Getting this far wasn’t a very possible outcome.

Now I just have to find out where the Room of Requirement is located.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

@jinxqsu

[monokyokyo]

Delivery Boy

I literally forgot to post this 💀 Basically Flower Boy pt 2 but from Yeosang's perspective

For the longest time, Yeosang never believed in love at first sight. He saw it as a cheap way to keep children on the lookout for their soulmates. It was a simple myth. What if the person doesn't return your feelings? What if they've already found "the one"? All of it was absurd to him.

Yet that all changed when he passed by a small flower shop on his way to a delivery.

In reality, Yeosang could care less about plants so they surely weren't the things that caught his eye. As he made his rounds, parking his bike next to a tiny bouquet, he peered into the flower shop next door. Out of curiosity, his eyes lingered on it, examining its colourful decor and few customers through the glass. Though they were the last things to catch his attention.

With fluffy, brown hair and hazel eyes that sparkled like diamonds, Yeosang watched the small shopkeeper skip from client to client, providing his assistance wherever it may be needed. He just seemed so innocent. So adorable. So... "Cute."

"Yah! Delivery boy! Are you going to bring me my food or not?" The shout of his customer snapped Yeosang back to reality and he hastily scampered to deliver them their meal, apologising the whole way. That didn't stop him from glancing back at the flower shop though, a small grin forming on his face when he looked back at the counter where the flower boy stood.

When arriving back at the small restaurant he worked at, Yeosang's excitement didn't go unnoticed by his coworker, who was startled by the way he yelled when he entered the building. "HONGJOONG! HOLY SHIT!"

The man ahead of him was his hyung and one of the few people working at the restaurant. It was a small, family-run establishment, so there was not much staff needed to run it.

Hongjoong collected his breath after having the living daylights scared out of him by how the brunette had screamed but smiled regardless, quirking his brow with intrigue. "What an entrance. Everything alright, Sangie?"

"No. Not at all." The redhead watched the way his coworker slumped into the seat nearest to the front counter. Before he could ask what was so wrong, Yeosang beat him to it. Saying, "Have you ever laid eyes on someone so pretty that they make your heart beat fifty miles for an hour and you want to go in and tell them they what they've done to your poor body but are afraid they would look at you weirdly because this is the first time you've actually seen one another so it would just end up being awkward for the both of you? Have you ever felt like that Hongjoong?"

The older opened his mouth then closed it immediately, furrowing his brow and trying to see if he understood the waterfall of information that was just thrown at him. "No... No, I don't think I've ever felt like that..."

"I must be sick. Maybe I'm coming down with a fever?"

Hongjoong squinted at him. He was indeed turning red but he had a feeling it wasn't from a fever. So he just chuckled. "Looks like someone's got a crush~" He sang as he reached over to ruffle the younger's brown locks. Yet to his surprise, Yeosang seemed quite terrified by this notion, immediately smacking his hyung's hand away and looking up at him with wide eyes.

"C-Crush?" He stuttered out, looking oddly terrified. "I can't have a crush on someone! What if he doesn't like me? What if he thinks I'm weird? Oh god, I can't get married yet! I'm too young!"

The redhead was left with a loss for words. Married? What kind of Disney movies had this kid been watching? "Yeosang, just because you have a crush on someone doesn't mean you have to date them. Let alone marry them."

Yet Yeosang only scoffed. "You clearly don't get out enough."

~~~

Over the next few days, the only thing Yeosang could think of was that flower boy. It was almost annoying given how they had never even had a conversation before. Love at first sight didn't exist. It simply wasn't a thing. So why was he still on his mind?

Hongjoong had easily spotted his predicament, given how the restaurant wasn't very busy that day, giving the young brunette time to lounge around. Chuckling, he walked over to boop his nose, watching it scrunch up irritably. "What?"

"I'm going to do a delivery, I'll be back in a few minutes?"

Yeosang furrowed his brow, sitting upright. "Why so soon?" Hongjoong just shrugged, adjusting a bag on his shoulder with the food in it.

"I'm just going down the road. There's a flower shop over there, you know it? The owner ordered spicy ramen." Hearing that, Yeosang shot to his feet, his interest finally piqued.

"He likes ramen? I like ramen!"

"Yeah, everyone likes ramen." He laughed and made his way towards the door. However, Yeosang yelled something that kept him from leaving.

"I'll do it!" Now, Yeosang would never volunteer to do a delivery. Most days, he would rather be sitting behind the counter on his phone, scrolling through Twitter and avoiding any actual work. So hearing him want to do something made Hongjoong eye him sceptically.

Yeosang quickly caught onto this and couldn't risk him saying no. "Please, please, please!" Despite the fear in Hongjoong's eyes at hearing him beg for something, Yeosang was handed the bag regardless.

"Why do you want to go so badly? It's not like you to do your job..." His statement was ignored by Yeosang, who only focussed on shoving a hat on his head and a mask over his face. Hongjoong's expression turned bewildered to downright concerned when he put the sunglasses on.

Nevertheless, Yeosang left the restaurant looking like some sort of mad man on the run, ramen in hand. He trekked down the road, clutching his delivery like his life depended on it. The strange looks he received from civilians didn't bother him, as the only thing on his mind was entering that flower shop and meeting its owner.

His hand trembled around the door handle, reluctant to so much as graze it. Luckily, he wasn't given any more time to stand there like an idiot because the glass entrance suddenly flung open. Yeosang shrieked, nearly dropping the food when he jumped back.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I thought the door might have been locked, I'm so sorry for scaring you!"

There he was. The flower boy. He looked at Yeosang with wide, worried eyes that were so shiny he could have stared at them for days. Had the other male not started to speak, that was exactly what he would have done too. "Sir? Are you okay? You've been staring for a bit now..."

Yeosang almost squealed, yes, squealed, in embarrassment. Doing his best to save face, he hastily shoved the box of ramen in his hands, keeping his head down the entire time. Though his red face was covered by his mask, Yeosang swore to god he was so warm that he would have melted it right off.

As soon as the box was in the other man's grasp, Yeosang sped off. "Hey! What about the money?" He didn't care. He couldn't stand there a minute longer and risk imploding from the inside out.

Hongjoong flinched when the front door suddenly slammed open, with Yeosang running in soon after. "Jesus! You'll break the door! What happened? Did you get mugged or something?"

"Worse." He groaned. Slinking off to the counter, Yeosang fell against the object, a heavy sigh of dismay leaving his lips. "The flower boy... I saw his face... H-He spoke to me..."

The redhead, once concerned, smiled. "No wonder you wanted to do the delivery," Yeosang could be so dramatic when it came to his feelings. Though Hongjoong didn't mean to laugh, he often found it to be quite entertaining how much stake he would put on little encounters like this.

Once again, the entrance to the shop entered, although not as violently as before. "Hello?" The voice that had walked in said. It took less than a second for Yeosang to recognise it and when he did, he immediately ducked behind the counter. The customer had clearly noticed, but he was too quick to see exactly who it was, so he paid it little mind. "Sorry to bother you, but the person you sent forgot to collect his payment..."

His voice was so calming, so sweet. It made Yeosang's heart flutter, heartbeat speeding up the longer he was in the room. Quit it, will you heart? God, you're so extra...

"Ah, is that so? I'm sorry about that. Here, thank you for coming here." Hongjoong's foot tapped against Yeosang's side, his way of silently scolding him for his poor performance.

"It's not a problem. I hope he's doing okay, he ran off pretty quickly..."

"Don't worry too much, he's fine. Have a good day sir." They said their goodbyes and Hongjoong waited until the customer was out of sight to roll his eyes. "He's gone, Sangie. You can come up now." Yeosang let out a heavy breath of relief. His hand was resting on his chest to soothe his raging heartbeat with little success. "You're hopeless. You know that?"

"I am not! I was just... caught off guard."

"Uh-huh, yeah sure. Sang, listen, you've got a crush and from the looks of it, a ridiculous one. The store is just down the street, why not give it a visit tomorrow? Maybe give him your number?" Yeosang pursed his lips, hand reaching for his sunglasses, which Hongjoong was quick to slide away. "Without the sunglasses and get up, please. You look like a drug dealer."

~~~

So Yeosang decided to give it a try. Not without its fair share of trials, of course. He was still a socially inept twink, after all. There was no way in Hell he could just walk up there and ask for his number. Despite his hyung's encouragement, he remained reluctant for most of the day, too anxious to even leave the building.

Every time he tried to step outside, he saw another person walk into the flower shop. From a tall man pulling up a fancy, white Cadillac, to someone who looked dejected beyond repair. Why are there so many people going in today? Stay home, dammit!

Like the coward he was, Yeosang waited nearly a day to go across the road, despite how vigorously Hongjoong laughed at his shyness. There was so much anticipation built up in his head. What would he say? How would he react? It was all more stressful than it needed to be.

It wasn't until his hyung alerted him of the time, "It's nearly six, what are you still doing? He's going to close soon!" did he finally spring to his seat. Yeosang has spent much of the afternoon pondering over a note should his words fail him. Shoving the paper in his pocket, he sprinted from his seat, eager to not miss his chance.

He could see the flower boy getting ready to flip the 'open' sign to 'closed' and instantly quickening his pace. He flinched back and Yeosang's eyes went wide. As quickly as he could, he reached for the younger male's waist to catch him from falling in shock when he zoomed through the door.

Those eyes... So perfect it was unreal. Now that they were up close, Yeosang really got a chance to examine his features. His round cheeks, his bright eyes. Never had he ever seen such a pretty human being. "Are you still open?" Those were the first words to leave his mouth, only to prevent any more of the undoubtedly awkward silence.

The florist went silent when he untangled himself from Yeosang's grip. The most he did was silently gesture him into the shop and despite his lack of verbal response, the brunette still smiled and walked inside.

The shop was cute which wasn't much of a surprise given how sweet the owner seemed. Even if he didn't know much about flowers, all he was sure of was that they were pretty. "Do you know what you're looking for?" The shopkeeper inquired, or rather, whispered. Yeosang pivoted in his direction, moving towards him.

For some reason, the younger looked quite shaken, at least until Yeosang smiled. "You." He spoke, much to the florist's confusion.

Blush rose to his face, not going unnoticed by the older male. "M-Me? What do you..." Yet his speech trailed off when the brunette plucked a rose off the table, eyeing it carefully. Yep. That was definitely a flower. He had no clue what he'd do with it but he couldn't just leave without buying anything, especially not after his dramatic entrance.

So he placed the flower on the counter, deciding that he would be taking it. As the shopkeeper got his receipt ready, Yeosang fished through his pockets for the note he had written. He gulped nervously as his hands began to tremble at the realisation that he was really doing this.

Covered in a slick plastic, the rose was handed back to him. "Have a good evening, sir..." However, Yeosang had yet to move. All he did was take the gift in his hand and carefully wrapped his note around the base of it then placed it back on the counter.

The strange look he received vanished when Yeosang planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Good night, flower boy." He said once he had moved away.

Yeosang didn't stay in the store a moment later. Though he may have exited calmly, you best believe he started sprinting all the way back to the restaurant once he was out of the florist sight.

"Holy shit... Holy shit!" He panted, desperately attempting to catch his breath, even though he hadn't run all that far. Hongjoong had just finished locking the doors it seemed and grinned at the sight of his frazzled coworker.

"I take it that things went well?"

Love at first sight was a fantasy, just a trick to give us false hope. It was something that Yeosang would have agreed with wholeheartedly just a few days ago but when his phone went off with an incoming message...

Hey delivery boy ❤

Then maybe he had started to believe in that supposed fantasy after all.

[dreamingwithbts]

Demon (Boku No Hero) - Chapter 22

Warning: Swearing, Some Violence

I was eating some cookies on the couch while watching TV, and I’m changing the channels until something caught my eyes. “Today’s topic is: “Is sexiness necessary for hero work?” The host says, while I stay looking at the screen. “What the fuck?” I say out loud to the stupid thing I heard, then see Mount Lady and Midnight fight. “Was Stain right? Does the new heroes just care about their own appearance? Shit.” I say, feeling a headache coming.

Everyone was attentive, listening to Aizawa-sensei. “Okay, that’s it for class. There’s only one week left until the final exams. You all are studying properly, right?” Aizawa-sensei asks us. “Sure, sure.....” I think nervous remembering me all these days, sleeping on the couch after eating and sleeping on the bed with book beside me. “I’m sure you already know, but it won’t just be a written exam. There’s also a practical component. Make sure you train your minds and bodies at the same time. That’s all.” Aizawa-sensei says then leaves the class and everyone started complaining and screaming because they aren’t been studying, like me. “I have been sleeping all these days instead of studying!” I scream, tears on my face while I half laid my body on my table. “Aka-cha... Why didn’t try to wake up and study?” Izuku asks me, trying not to laugh. “Because sleeping is a gift and study isn’t!” I say dreaming looking at Izuku with almost hearts on my eyes and suddenly someone punches me in the head. “WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU STUDY? YOU BETTER PASS THE EXAMS!” Katsuki screams on my face. “I AM TRYING, BUT SLEEPING IS TOO GOOD!” I scream back. “LIKE HELL! YOU’RE JUST LAZY!” He screams. “NOT I’M NOT!” I scream back then we went silence when everyone started making study groups then Kirishima came to us. “Look at the difference in virtue.” Kirishima says to us and I nod, then we look back at Katsuki who was still angry. “I can do it, too! Want me to beat it into you?” Katsuki says scaring us. “Yeah, I’m counting on you!” Kirishima says way too excited. “You too Akuma!” Katsuki says. “I’m too scared to go, but I don’t think a have a choice....” I say scared of teacher Katsuki making Kirishima laugh.

Lunchtime came quickly, and before I could join Izuku and the others, a hand came to my wrist and drag me with him. “You sure love dragging me everywhere.” I say to Katsuki. “I bet you like it.” He says, smirking, making me blush a little. “Hey guys!” I say to the others and Mina started immediately talking to me, excited about something.

Again in class I was listening to Mina and Kaminari talking, then of course Katsuki had to talk. “It doesn’t matter if they’re people or robots. They’re the same if you beat them up, right? What are you idiots talking about it being a cinch for?” Katsuki says. “Who are you calling an idiot?!” Kaminari says, pointing at Katsuki. “Shut up! If you need to control your Quirk, then control it! Idiot!” Katsuki says getting angry again. “Well, you just destroy everything in front of you. Do you have your Quirk controlled?” I ask him, teasing him, and he looks at me furious, and I see Kaminari giggling behind him. “SHUT UP!” He screams at me making me laugh then he just turns to Izuku. “Hey, Deku!” He says. “Oh, no....” I think looking between them. “I don’t know if you’ve figured out how to use your Quirk a little or what, but you seriously keep rubbing me the wrong way.” He then continues to talk towards him. “I’ll kill you! Todoroki, you too!” He finishes. “Katsuki. Calm down. Now.” I say serious, now getting up. “Tch.” He says, looking into my eyes, angry but calmer. “Let’s go.” I say getting my bag, and he leaves first while I wave bye to everyone.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Bakugo that intense.” Kirishima says. “Aka-san must have a lot of patience to be with him.” Yaoyorozu says. “She’s a goddess!” Kaminari says. “I wish I had her courage and strength.” Jiro says, and everyone agrees. “They make a cute couple!” Mina says excited. “A powerful one, ribbit.” Asui says.

“Did you really had to say stuff like that?” I ask Katsuki while we walk on the corridor. “Tch.” He says, his hands in his pockets, and I slap his head. “USE YOUR WORDS, DUMBASS!” I scream. “WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE MY OLD HAG!?” He screams, and we scream at each other, not noticing Aizawa-sensei listening to us. “Bakugo has gotten worse than I thought, but at least he has Aka with him and vice versus.” Aizawa thinks.

Everyone was studying, alone or in groups, while Kirishima and I were under fire with Katsuki who was yelling and hit us with his notebook. “WRONG! WRONG!” He yells at us. “Sorry...” I smile nervous to the coffee shop waitress. “FOCUS!” Katsuki hits my head and I went back to studying. “We are going to die....” Kirishima whispers to me. “I think I prefer to die than this...” I say and he nods. “FOCUS!” Katsuki yells. “Yes, sir!” We say nervous.

The written exam day came, and I could feel everyone was nervous. “Okay, you got this.” I think. “Oh, this one was easy. I actually know this one!” I think happy. “Thank you, Katsuki and the deadly notebook.” I think. “Okay, I finished.” I sigh in relief, then I look at Katsuki playing with his pencil, very bored. “What the fuck....? How long did he finished the exam?” I think looking at him shocked, then he looks back at me confused. “Pencils down, everybody. The last person in each row, collect the answer sheets and bring them here.” Aizawa-sensei says. I get up and hug Katsuki. “What are you doing?!” Katsuki complains but doesn’t push me away. “Thank you, thank you! I actually knew most of the answers!” I say happy. “Ya, ya. You’re welcome.” Katsuki says, smiling at me. “Kacchan is smiling...at Aka-chan!” Izuku thinks, looking at the not yet couple.

Then the practical exam came, and we were escorted to the practical exam area, center plaza. Everyone was in their hero costumes looking at our eight Pro-Heroes that were in front of us. “Now, we will begin the practical exam. Of course, it is possible to fail this exam. If you want to go to the training camp, then don’t make any stupid mistakes.” Aizawa-sensei says. “There are a lot of teachers...” I hear Jiro say. “Are we going to fight them?” I start thinking. “We’re fighting robot warriors like at the entrance exam, right?” Kaminari says too confidently. “Fireworks! Curry! Test of Courage!” Mina screams also excited. “For various reasons, the exam will be different starting this time!” A voice comes thought Aizawa-sensei scarf and a tiny weird white rat comes out of it. “What is that?” I ask Katsuki shocked, and he just looks at it confused. “ Principal Nezu!” Some of them say. “That’s Nezu?!” I whisper. “From now on, we want to focus on person-to-person combat and hero work, and stress teaching that is closer to actual fighting.” Nezu says now on the floor. “He’s so cute!” I whisper, looking at our principal, and Katsuki looks at me weirdly. “We’ll have you form teams of two to fight against one teacher!” Nezu says. “Wait....two on a team, but....” I think, then Aizawa-sensei started explaining, but I was too busy thinking. “We are an uneven number, one team world be three or a solo team. Hmmmm.” I think. Aizawa-sensei started saying the teams, and Katsuki and Izuku will be fighting Dad. “Katsuki will kill both or Dad will kill both. I wish I could see this fight!” I think disappointed, but then I remember. “Aizawa-sensei! I don’t have a team!” I say my hand up and everyone looks at me in realization. “Right, since it’s an uneven number, you are in a solo team and your hero is late.” Aizawa-sensei says. “I’m here! I’m here! Sorry, I’m late!” A familiar voice says, coming from the sky and landing with the other heroes. “It’s Hawks!” The class says shocked. “Hawks!” I say smiling. “Hello, my Boobs Bird! How are you?” Hawks asks, waving at me. “Boobs...Bird...” The others whisper, shocked. “Boobs!” Mineta says drooling. “Boobs.... Bird....” Katsuki says angry. “Oh, look! Your next to your boyfriend! How cute!” Hawks says, smirking, making me and Katsuki red and the others giggle. “SHUT UP, YOU CANNIBAL!” I scream angry. “How can you scream like that to your older brother?” Hawks says, putting his hand on his heart, and before I could reply, Aizawa-sensei speaks. “Enough.” Then Principal Nezu continues. “And now, we’ll announce the teams and the teachers they’ll be up against all at once!” He says. “So, I’m the 10th fighting right before Katsuki and Izuku fight against Dad.” I think. “The time limit for the exam is thirty minutes! Your objective is either to put these handcuffs on the teacher, or to have one of you escaped from the stage!” Nezu says, and I smirk evilly towards Hawks. “Why am I feeling nervous?” He thinks sweating, looking towards Akuma.

“All right, each team will take the practical exam in order on the prepared stage. Sato, Kirishima, get ready. Those waiting their turn can watch the exams or think of strategies as a team. Do what you want. That’s all.” Aizawa-sensei says, while he and the other teachers and Hawks enter the building. “I’m going to crush that chicken wing bird!” I say evilly. “Avenge us Aka-san.” Tokoyami says supporting me. “Let’s go boys!” I say excited, going to the middle and putting my arms on Katsuki and Izuku shoulders. “Aka-chan....Kacchan...” Izuku says nervous. “Let me go! I don’t to be near Deku.” Katsuki says, trying to take off my arm. “You...will...stay!” I say in a happy angry tone, red mist covering my arm making it strong enough to hold Katsuki. “Witch!” Katsuki insults me. “Let’s go!” I say and the three of us enter the building, then Izuku separates from us after he tries to talk with Katsuki.

“Did you really had to ignore him? You guys need to plan your battle with All Might.” I say to the explosive boy. “Like I’ll talk to that nerd.” Katsuki says angry. “I’m really disappointed with you.” I say to him and ignore him looking at me with a shocked expression.

Everyone was in the room doing their own thing. I was seating, relaxing, playing with my red mist on my fingers making figures. “Team Sato and Kirishima retires due to both members losing consciousness.” A voice comes to the room. “Oh? Really? Damn, this is going to be difficult.” I say, then the next team went. “They passed. Good!” I say when Tokoyami and Asui passed, then time passed quickly, and it was my turn. “Good luck Aka-chan!” Mina says, and I see Katsuki looking at me, I look at him, and he nods at me and I nod back. “Let’s destroy this bird!” I say, walking towards the battleground.

I was face to face with Hawks in an outside battle center, in the middle of tall buildings with a huge gate behind him that says escape here. “Hi, Booby Bird! Are you ready to lose?” Hawks asks me, putting on his googles and start flying of the ground. “You ready to lose all your feathers, Cannibal?” I ask him smirking, red mist appearing all over my body while I hover off the ground. Hawks starts flying with speed towards me and sends me a lot of feathers towards me and I just teleport to the place he was, but he was ready for it and some feather that were on the ground attack me and I use my Hex Bolts towards them. “I got you!” Suddenly, Hawks says behind me and goes to hug him. “Hell no!” I say and kick him in the chest, making him fly away. “Come find me, baby bird!” He says hiding. “Dammit.” I say and hover to the floor, before I got to tired and using my mist to try to find him. “I bet his up there!” I say looking at the tallest building. “Okay, concentrate.” I say, closing my eyes, and I teleported to that huge building. “Got you.” I say tired. “Guess you did, but I’m still free!” He says then looks at me serious and starts running towards me with a sharp feather in each hand and I also run towards him, mist all over my body and I use the mist to stop him from hitting me. “You could have escaped a long time ago.” He says. “I want to see you in handcuffs, bird.” I say, and we stay fighting until under us, discreetly, I manipulate ropes of red mist. “Now, I got you.” I say, stepping away from a very confused Hawks, then suddenly my red ropes surround him and tight him up. “A little to tight there, baby bird.” Hawks pouts, while I walk towards him with the handcuffs. “Oh well. Too bad then.” I say smirking putting the handcuffs. “You’re so mean to your big brother!” Hawks complains, making me laugh.

“Team Solo Aka passes.” The voice says, and everyone who watched were amazed.

Note:Hope you like it! New chapter every Friday!

Tag List: @holaaaf @clickbait-official

[ushioink]

(Part 1 of Careful,)

The world’s a little quiet today, or maybe she thinks this way because the AC is on full mode. Her earphones are pressed on her ears, and her fingers are running over the laptop keyboard in light speed. Everything she’s doing is an example of tranquility. She’s trapped in this sphere of solitude, and she loves it. The library is entirely empty, too, considering it’s early in the morning for torture. But whatever, she likes when things are clear and monotonous.

Of course, every good thing is bound to the burden of decomposition, and so her quiet is disturbed. At first, it’s just a body that’s hovering over her table. A large body. Enough to darken her desk and wide enough to block the cool air of the AC gushing over her. She’s intending to ignore it, but she’s not exactly good at that. So she takes off her earphone and pauses her monstrous clicking. She looks up, glare taking place over the dead shapes of her bitch face, ready to confront the person stripping her of her cocoon. Only, she doesn’t see a stranger.

It’s a man, and she’s not familiar with men - usually she’s just a virgin in all aspects of the opposite sex - but he’s not a face well forgotten. He’s one of the dudes that people whispered about in the hallways, and even her, an antisocial not-give-a-shit girl has heard about him. She’s a bit mortified about his sudden station over her table, but she forgets about her curiosity to resume her glaring. He winces a little because of her harsh glaring, especially when she pulls her earphones so she can hear the sound of her eyes going absolutely still in the dangerous motion. Besides him stands another man, a taller one, and he, too, sparks recognition in her well-organized mind. But she doesn’t give this other man attention; she only looks at the shorter guy.

“I have a proposition.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady. She’s a little - a lot - annoyed about his demanding tone, as if he’s used to dropping requests that take no for an answer. So, she scoffs.

“No.”

His eyes, which were narrowed down in a way to intimidate her (as if) widen a little, and he splutter. “You didn’t even hear what I have to say!”

“Don’t care, still no.” She returns back to her speedy typing, just to have something to do and to irritate the guy. God knows how well-versed she is in the effects of ignorance. She hopes he too, is immensely annoyed by it.

His narrowed eyes go a little wide, before he narrows them again. He looks down at the unoccupied chair across her chair, then at her, who’s still pretending to be immersed in her ridiculous writing, before pulling the chair out from under the table and plopping his pretty little butt over it. She doesn’t give him the attention he desires, not even when he releases a big sigh of relief. She keeps on clicking on her keyboard, completely unbothered. This makes him annoyed for some reason. No other female has ignored him like that when he graced them with his pretty, dark presence, and no other person has taken it so far to pretend he doesn’t exist, either. He’s damn well-aware of what he does to people, both genders, whatnot with his beautiful kohl-ridden eyes, his thin, pink lips that perfectly curl into a pout that’s deadly, and his killer body. What’s wrong with this woman? He actually came here by the stupid, stupid convincing tactics of his friend to beg for help, and he’s being swiped off like dirt? Ridiculous!

He curls a fist over his mouth like a fake posh man and clears his throat, making her look at him with her deadly, iridescent eyes. “What if I offered you ten thousand dollars for catching a mice trap in the Dark Dungeons?”

The Dark Dungeons is a place in the university’s library where everyone just pretends doesn’t exist for some reason - probably because of all the boring past researchers of the graduated students stacked there - and ultimately ended up being deserted. A lot of students are scared to venter there alone, recapping fake tales about pale ghosts and demons that are there to hunt them. She’s not afraid of such stupidity.

“Okay,” she shrugs casually, pausing in her rapid typing and closing her laptop. The student blinks at the quick gesture. “Pay it in cash?”

He’s dumbfounded; of course he is. He hadn’t anticipated his dumb proposition (which isn’t even real) to be met with such ease. He continues to blink, “But you just said no.”

She shrugs again, crossing her fingers over her laptop like a CEO waiting for a colleague’s destruction. The fist he’s holding against his mouth is put down on the desk. He wipes his expression clear of his flabbergast. She doesn’t allow him to say anything, though. “It depends on the proposition, really, and my capabilities in doing it. I can catch a mice trap in the presumptuous Dark Dungeons, and I will agree on it for ten thousand dollars. This is, knowing you, the only good offer you’ll be willing to give. I don’t want to hear the rest, because I know the rest, and I refuse the rest beforehand.”

“So you know who I am?” He sounds delightfully surprised. It’s the only thing he caught from her monologue, the fact she knows who he is despite only discovering about her recently.

She gives him a look as if he’s an idiot. Then, she returns to her work and opens the laptop. His cheeks flush at that look, still surprised that she’s not even remotely affected by him. He finally gives his companion, a tall guy who casually slipped on the seat beside him and practically occupying the entire space with his large body, a helpless look; and his friend merely shrugs disinterestedly.

“Hey,” he changes tactics by knocking on her desk with his knuckles, his eyebrows slightly growing narrowed as he frowns.

The man’s a little bit upturned by the mischievous twinkle that goes on like a bell on her eyes as she ignores him, a spark that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been sitting close to her. But it’s strange nevertheless to see her, a woman so poised, a woman full of confidence and empathy, show such molecular emotion. Mind blowing

“Look at me. Hey!”

She looks up at him, the twinkle shifting into deep, rooted annoyance. “Yes? Is there anything of significance that you want to tell aside offering a proposition to a complete stranger?”

He’s dumbfounded yet again. “Is that a way to talk to someone? What a potty mouth you have! Do you use it to kiss people?”

She’s the one dumbfounded now, fooled at her own game of ignorance. “Excu.. excuse me! Potty mouth! Me? I’m a polite person, thank you very much. I’m just in tune with reciprocation at the moment.”

He sounds extremely frustrated when he says, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

The companion of the rotten boy clears his throat before she can retaliate, and she gives him her attention for the first time since he sat himself next to his friend. His face is long and droopy, lazy, and his eyes are squinted as if he’s trying to make sense of her tiny figure sitting across. When he speaks, his voice is husky. “Yah, don’t yell. We’re in a library.”

They glare at him, their eyes holding icicles. He huffs. “The last time I’ve been here, the librarian kicked me out for knocking one of his shelves. If he knows that I’m here again, which he will by your loud voices, I’m going to be staked. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve seen a lot of vampire movies. Staking seems really hurtful.”

They shoot him disbelieved eyes. He puts a hand over his chest. “I have a sensitive heart. A wooden stake will make my delicate organ scar. That’s not good on my resumé.”

The first guy gapes at his friend, whereas she shakes her head in disappointment of being a part of this conversation. She goes back to her work while poking her tongue on the insides of her cheek, trying to restrain her growing fury.

“What?” The tall companion looks at his friend weirdly, “You haven’t seen the resumés I’ve seen online. They have applications out of this world. What if my beautifully intricate heart is required? Don’t want it marred!”

“Why the fuck would anyone ask for an image of your heart, Yeol? What job even requires the internal lookout of your organs?” His friend rebuts.

“How’d I know? I’m not logged in to alljobs.com!”

“Maybe you should, so you’ll be prepared to have a reasonable answer to your dumb shenanigans!”

“Will you both just shut up!” She snaps, smashing her laptop closed (again). They turn to her, blinking. “Why the fuck you’d even sit in front of a person you don’t know and have this conversation while they’re listening?”

They look scorned, cheeks going red. They regretfully look down at their laps, fiddling with their fingers.

“Now,” she exhales from her nose angrily, resembling a red-faced dragon (she doesn’t actually blush, but the running fury that’s gobbling her up leaves her face looking like a swollen tomato). “What the fuck do you want?”

The smaller man opens his mouth to say his demands once again, but she rudely raises an open palm up, squinting. “Speak gently. And slowly. And politely.”

He glares but complies. “I have something to ask of you, a proposition. Actually, you’re not a stranger, at least not as if now. I know who you are.”

She quirks a sharp eyebrow up, unrelentingly and very judgmentally. She’s not the type of person to be swayed over anything, definitely not over this man, too.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one of the smartest students in our batch, and I kinda have been going through a lot with one of my assignments, so this idiot here told me to ask you for help.” He points to his companion, who salutes mockingly using two of his fingers. “It’s about the aftermath of war, and the effects it leaves on the intermingled classes of eighteenth century China. I’m very bad at writing shit. I confuse my statements; I fail at rearranging my paragraphs; I suck at choosing intellectual perspectives; and I most definitely can’t be on the neutral side to the point of sounding extremely radical. Would you help me write my research? It’s worth a bit of my marks considering I didn’t take the midterm for, ahem, certain reasons,” there’s a soft hue of red that glows in his cheeks, and feeling his blush, he scratches them with his long nails awkwardly.

“No.” The cute color doesn’t deter her at all, and she begins to collect her laptop and books to leave. Or, pretending to. She does not have any thought about leaving, not even when there’s a handsome stranger trying to invade her tranquil space. But, regardless of her wants, such gesture made the man nervous. He snaps his head up, eyes wide, and pushes himself to his feet quickly to stop her from leaving.

“Why not?” He begins to be angry. “Is this because you know who I am? Does my... Does our reputation precedes us?”

She gives him a cooly leveled look. “I only give favors to friends. You’re not a friend. Very simply. I couldn’t care less about your reputation, which does in fact precedes you. People tend to talk about things they don’t understand. The juiciest the gossip, the more people want to talk about it.” She pauses a little, confusedly staring at them. “Don’t you guys know that? When you wear these clothes, pierce all parts of your body, flash all of your tattoos, and walk around intimidating people, they will talk badly about you. Huh, I thought you guys are smart enough to discover this much about the nature of people.”

Whereas he looks startled out of his way with the sincerity in her words, It’s the companion who takes the time to speak. He asks her, his eyebrow raised. “Why’d you think we’re smart?”

She smirks at him, and he’s surprised that it’s actually playful, not malicious. “It’s only those that rebel the constant demands of society that have their heads teetered towards either intelligence, or insanity.” She slings her bag on her shoulder, her face going back to its previous expressionless slate. “Bye now.”

She doesn’t leave. She merely just stands and watches them watching her. It takes the two university boys a second to understand the implications behind her words, and when they do, they groan. They stand up, albeit slowly, and the shorter one dares to shoot her a grumpy, malicious glare, before walking away. The taller one simply tilts his head downwards in a respectable nod before following his friend.

Once they leave, she smiles, and the curl of her lips makes her face radiant, a whole lot flowery than the actual blanket of monochromatic nothingness that usually sticks on her all the time. She sits back down on her seat, opens her laptop, and begins to type again.

-

Oh the long road. Oh the long road. She sighs in her head, her legs heavy and unbalanced, almost sending her to the ground with how weak they feel. After almost six hours in university, with three classes and breaks in between, she’s finally done with all the nonsense that she, daily, has to face. Actually, university hasn’t been on her mind before in high school when she was in her senior year for this exact reason. She is too lazy for something overloaded like university. But, if she is being honest with herself, she doesn’t see herself in any place besides university, especially if she wants to have a ‘decent’ job. So, she tries to succumb to the voice compelling her to move forward, and ignoring the one that tells her to fuck everything and flop on the ground, dead.

A sound calling her name stops her in her long, angry strides, and she turns to the back to see her friend, Sami, waving for her, smiling so preciously that actual stars appear on her eyes. She’s not oblivious to the crowd gathering behind Sami, all males (and some females) staring at her with eyes twinkling with hearts. She reluctantly wave back, and Sami comes running towards her, beaming once she’s standing in front of her.

“You’re heading home?” Her friend asks.

She hums without a verbal consent. Her friend beams again.

“Great!” Sami loops their arms together. “Lets go together, and while we’re on the way, buy me a cocktail.”

“Alcohol this early? And why should I buy you one?” She raises an eyebrow up in ridicule, even though she already knows the answer to her rather dumb question.

Sami rolls her eyes. “No, an actual cocktail, with fruits and all. And you should buy me one because I’m your humble friend who asks nothing of you at all.”

“You ask for things all the time,” she narrows her eyes, and points at Sami’s earrings. “I bought you those earrings,” she points at her bag. “And I bought you this bag. And those shoes. I might as well buy you a house to live in if I’m already this much husband material.”

Sami grins, beaming, and her grip over her arm tightens. “It’d be so great if my future husband actually pays for all of my things. I’ll be a pretty, studious, working housewife that do things for him and accommodate all of his precious needs. Aw, I miss him already.”

“You should be careful not to say this in front of another woman that isn’t me.”

Sami blinks cluelessly. “Why? I didn’t say anything infuriating, did I?”

She pats her head sympathetically, her hand calloused despite the gentle, sardonic gesture. “Not at all. Not at all.”

They walk out of the university’s large grounds with Sami the one doing most of the talking, the bouncing, and the gleeful intervals; her grip tight around her arm, and her soft laughter surrounding them whole. She wouldn’t say that she was entirely comfortable about the concept of having a friend, but it has been two years now since she knew Sami, and she began to understand that in order to enjoy something beautiful, you have to watch it burn first, which’s why she, despite not liking it, disposed herself of her antisocial behavior, and stuck around with Sami.

Upon the huge gates of the university, she catches sight of the two students who had interrupted her morning study with their obnoxious presence. They’re standing in front, one of them - the tall one - is leaning against the large beige wall beside the gates, and the nuisance - the one requesting - is crouching on the floor right beside him, a fake cigar made of paper in between his fingers. They’re already staring at her, anticipating her exit. When her eyes meet the dark ones of the crouching guy, he smirks, his pink lips thin and inviting. He puts the fake paper in his mouth, pretending to inhale, and then pulls it off to exhale loudly, his eyes suddenly half lidded. He’s staring at her. She stares back, then she narrows her eyes, ticking her chin to the side in a silent request for him to look away. His smirk widens, and he doesn’t look away; his eyes invading her soul to the point she feels something scratch at the surface of her skin, begging to be released.

She scoffs. And almost as if he’s hearing her, he waggles his eyebrows teasingly. She blanches, disgusted, and her facial expression catches Sami’s attention.

“Who’re you looking at?” Sami turns to follow her friend’s eyes before she can look away, furrowing her eyes upon seeing the two boys. She turns to her friend curiously; nervously. “Do you... do you know them?”

She’s quick to shake her head, “Nah, I don’t know them outside the rumors that I heard circulating about them. I think one of their names starts with a B? Or an H? Anyhow, I don’t know who they are.”

“Why are they looking at you?”

She shrugs. “Beats me. Probably think I’m a visible, touchable time loop or something. That’d be cool. Have you ever seen Doctor Strange?”

Sami stares at her as if she’s an alien. “What on earth are you talking about?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. Let’s quicken our pace. Maybe we’ll lose them in the crowd.”

As if hearing their words, the two boys jump to their feet (the one standing merely bouncing around) and they follow after them like two little creeps. They don’t say anything for a while, like announce their already large presence, and she ticks her head backwards with raised eyebrows, meeting their amused - yet frustrated - faces. She tilts her head, silently asking them about what the fuck they’re doing, and the shorter one of the two shrugs, the taller one smirking a little, the cigarette roll that was wrapped around the other’s mouth now in his. She looks away.

Sami notices her friend’s head going forward and backward, and turn around to give them a funny look, a little nervous for some reason. She looks back at her friend and pulls at her sleeve, a frozen smile on her face. “They’re following us.”

“If there’s an ice cube, large enough to have legs and is following me, and the world is so flabbergasted by it’s appearance, but you’re only concerned about taking your way home without interruptions. Would something happen if I gave it attention? No, you know why?“ she leans closer to Sami and with her big, wide eyes, she whispers. “Because it’ll melt away.”

Sami shakes her head in exasperation. Even after two years of being friends with her; she’s never getting used to her random thought processes. Either-way, Sami doesn’t feel entitled enough to say anything against that, and although she releases a little grumble from her chest in irritation at the skin contact, she doesn’t remove her arm away. Smiling, she leans her head on her shoulder.

“Yah. You can’t just pretend we don’t exist.” The shorter one says, or yells really.

His friend scoffs, and it’s strangely shudder-inducing because of his low grating voice. “We’ll follow you home if destiny calls.”

Sami lifts her head to peek at them, then quickly looks at her calm, astute friend. “Are you not going to answer?”

“A bird could constantly peck on my window and I wouldn’t shoo it away. I’m too lazy.”

Sami’s eyes mellow down, and her lips smile. “But that’s exactly what you do, sweetie. You can’t handle disturbances, especially when it affects your general surroundings.”

“You’re right. I’m going to kick their ass.” She stops in her gait, turns around, and glares; Sami stopping next to her. The two university boys pause in their strides, blinking.

“Question, exactly why was I chosen among the high grades receiving bastards in our class?” She raises her eyebrows up. “Is it because you think I’m easy? Or I’m a woman? Is it because you think I’m nice?” She says nice as if it’s a heinous word created for her personal offense.

The boys share a confused look. Then, the tall one clears his throat, readying himself for the paragraph he’s about to spout. “I’ve never once thought you’re easy, and neither have Baekhyun. We’ve seen the way you talked back to the teachers, and man, do you have a temper. I’m actually a bit shaky right now because I’m asking this favor of you. I’m not a misogynist, man. Why’d you make me something I’m not. love women. I love all wonen. Perhaps a little too much,” Baekhyun, the short guy beside him, is nodding his head sadly, “I’d have told Baekhyun to choose Dahyeon if I thought she was as responsible as you are. But the girl’s a klutz. She ruined a paper of mine once. Won’t let her do it again,” he then tilts his head, his confused face getting graver. “I’m sure as fuck you’re not kind, or nice. I wouldn’t have already been going through emotional trauma just by the thought of approaching you, yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Baekhyun spreads his arm with a surrendering look flashing on his handsome face.

Sami turns to her friend and analyzes the stone cold expression on her face. She hesitates, for a second, before she says. “They do have a point. You’ve traumatized half of the population in this university.”

“We still have two more years for you to traumatize the rest.” Baekhyun comments cheekily. When she shoots him a glare, he winks. She’s a little surprised. She hadn’t met anyone who winked at her deadly stare-offs. People are terrified of her, not amused of her.

“How many pages do you want your assignment to be? Mine’s going to be a minimum of eight, considering it’s only a meager homework, so I’ll try to shove your own pages between my breaks to save time.”

Their eyes go wide. Baekhyun actually gulps, unprepared for the challenge. “You write eight pages for an assignment worth ten marks?”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re here begging for help for this stupid assignment, so I guess we’re both pulling up our shits, right?”

He shuts up.

It’s the tall one that answers. “Any page number is fine. Take your pick.”

She nods, “You’ll have five pages, then. I take breaks in between my classes. I have two-to-three classes for five days aside Saturdays and Tuesdays, so we’ll write two pages every week until its due date in three weeks’ time,” she takes her phone and shoves it in the chest of the short guy. “Give me your number so I text you the hours I’m free on. I don’t give a shit if our schedules overlap. When I tell you to come, you come, with your laptop and all of your writing necessities with you. One mistake and you’re out, get it?”

Baekhyun sweats, especially since her expression is deadly serious and her hand, which is still clutching her phone on his chest is cold, deadly so. He gulps anyway and nods. “Thank you, really. Appreciate it. Is there anything I can do for you to repay the favor?”

She smirks, and pulls her hand off of his chest after he accepts the phone. “A bad boy who knows how to say thank you? That’s a new one. And keep the favor until after you deliver your assignment. I’m not sure you’ll wanna give me any favors after I’m done with you. Say, are you willing to pay money?”

He pales. “I’m poor as fuck, ma’am, expected of a university student, right? Please say yes.”

She smirks again, amused of the panic in his eyes. “Relax, idiot. Just wanna check something.” She turns to the tall one. He’s staring right back at her, eyes wide and brown hair fluffy. For a bit, she’s taken aback by the actual fact of how gorgeous he is. Wide, almond eyes, soft hair, tall girth like a skyscraper, and she fucking loves skyscrapers, the taller, the better. He’s wearing a weird mesh of jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, but he’s also wearing a sweater on top. He must be sweating in there. His wide eyes turn a little confused when she merely gapes at him, and she notices. She clears her throat, and rolls her eyes so the spectators don’t notice she’s a weird bitch.

“What’s your name?” She asks coldly. There’s a strange warmth circulating her body, but of course, she ignores that.

“Sorry?” He splutters.

She lifts a sleek eyebrow up, holding herself from smirking widely. “Your name,” she points at Baekhyun, who’s blinking down at her phone like it’s a foreign industrial scam. “This moron’s Baekhyun. Kinda noticed you mention his name. What’s your name? I’m a bit curious to know about the chaperone’s name, considering they’re always so ignored and unappreciated in movies.”

He looks a bit flustered, as if he hasn’t noticed he has been a chaperone all this time. He wipes the slight vulnerability that flashed earlier, twirls the paper stick in his mouth, and gives her a mock salute. “Chanyeol, ma’am, but don’t bother memorizing it. We wouldn’t be seeing each other enough for the need of that.”

She doesn’t comment on his words even though she’s curious. She merely tells herself he’s as weird as she is, probably a little arrogant, but of course not as her. No one’s as arrogant as her. She sits on the throne of arrogance. Her parents once thought she had narcissistic syndrome, those assholes, but dismissed it later on when she gave them enough evidence she wasn’t. She pays attention to Baekhyun, coughing to alert him of the actual fact he has been taking too much time typing gibberish on her phone, and not his phone number. She swears to God he probably failed to reach her contacts. He looked like a dumb loser up close like that, but she didn’t want to judge him so severely. A guy who winks at her instead of shit his pants must be a dumbass, but again, she doesn’t want to judge.

Baekhyun looks up from her phone upon her cough, smirks his annoyingly attractive smirk, and juggle the phone towards her (after locking it, for some reason) she tries catching her phone, and thankfully she succeeds. She glares, about to scold him about the degrading act of her precious gadget, when he all but announces.

“We’ll go see our own way now. Thank you for such precious moment. Perhaps we’ll be able to create more while avoiding chopped heads, from your part, of course. May the grounds open up to present you with a fortunate gift,” he does a whole theatrics of bowing, while simultaneously taking a step back, bumping into an unamused Chanyeol. “Adios, my lady.”

He turns around to Chanyeol, who whispers something to him. They begin to walk away, and Baekhyun says something to the taller guy, in retaliation, which earns him an eye roll. Not taking this lightly, Baekhyun jumps - to reach the tall giant - so he can wrap his arm around his neck, and pulls him into a headlock. Chanyeol doesn’t fight. He lets himself be dragged like a deadweight doll, like he’s used to such abuse, and she shakes her head. Chanyeol seemed cool with his indifference, but perhaps he isn’t the one in total control here.

Sami calls her softly, and forgetting her only friend for a bit - the two boys have extremely large presence - she turns to her. She offers a small smile, showing a dimple to her left side, and Sami beams.

“I’m not even going to ask what the heck just happened,” she offers her a hand, Sami; and she looks at it weirdly. “Ready to go home?”

Sighing, she accepts the hand, and agrees to be dragged home. Sami looks down at their hands; and thinks a little, her brows going all intersected. She shrugs, cooly intertwining their fingers together. She doesn’t even blink at the gesture, having been used to it. Out of character, the only thing on her mind at the moment is those two, strange university men.

-

Author Note:

So?

We haven’t got anything grounded yet. We still have a lot to cover! The personality of ChanBaek is beautiful, stick to see our dumb yet gorgeous boys.

Also, if you haven’t noticed already, our OC is freaking DANGEROUS! Chanbaek are in for a ride!

[bonemarroww]

Something Else - Trans!(O) Amajiki Tamaki x (A) F!Reader

Summary :  “You’ll get there someday!” Mirio always says. “You’ll do better next time.“  Tamaki doesn’t want to get there someday. And if every Alpha always does, well, maybe he’s something else then.

Warnings: None.

(I do not own the picture)

AO3

Prologue |  Chapter 1

————— Chapter 2

“Look at that! Tamaki smiling! If it isn’t a good day!” Mirio grinned as he walked with his friend to the place where they were supposed to meet with Nejire and their new friend.

The Omega had quickly taken to the Alpha girl. Though a bit jealous of the time the two spent together, Mirio and, to a lesser extent, Tamaki, were happy to see them getting along. She was an honorable Alpha, Mirio had made sure to know before letting her hang out alone with his Omega, and a nice friend.  

Though she mostly hung around the bubbly Omega, her favorite member of the Big Three was without a doubt Tamaki. As much as she kept her distance physically from Nejire, to avoid a scene with the girl’s mate, Tamaki seemed to have the opposite effect, and it was not rare for her to sit just a bit closer to him than she would anyone else. Weirdly enough, it did not bother him so much, and in the few weeks of getting to know her, he had not yet gotten used to how her scent made his head spin.

Though he was a bit jealous from all the time she and Nejire spent together, most of all because he knew the Omega could probably smell how amazing the Alpha’s scent was, at least, he had the proximity.

In the few times when they would eat without the couple, she often shared a bit of her food with him, asking him to manifest it in front of her. She was curious and amazed by his quirk, in a way that made him nervous in a good way.

It did help that her food was always so good. She always prepared it herself in the kitchen of the dorms, often in large portions to make sure to send off her friends in UA with a good meal. When he had asked how come she knew how to cook that well, she had shrugged, unimpressed with her own skills.

“We’re a lot of Alphas in my family, so every summer, the elders gather to teach the youngers how to best take care of our Omega.” Her eyes had twinkled when she had mechanically placed another portion of Takoyaki in his plate. “Cooking, cleaning around the house, gifts, showing affection, all that stuff.”

Tamaki blushed when he remembered how the Takoyaki had tasted like a special treat made just for him. She had a way of making him feel... special. She shielded him from what he did not like about himself. Her nature made her act around him like he had seen her do a lot of her friends, from the other side of a hallway; taking care of them.

He had dared ask her, blushing terribly and looking at his feet, if she was putting all this knowledge to use with an Omega that would be dear to her heart. She had laughed and said she had not yet found the one for her. At her answer, a lot of tension had left his body; tension he did not know he had.

Right now, as Tamaki was heading towards the girls sitting under a tree a few meters ahead of him and Mirio, he was keeping the memory of her tenderness towards him close to his heart.

“I’m serious, you seem happier these days.” Mirio insisted as they neared the girls.

Tamaki shrugged, but he could not help the tiny smile on his lips.

“I-I guess I am happy.”

He could see Mirio was about to ask something, when another voice cut them.

“Amajiki! Come sit here, I have something new for you to taste!” The Alpha girl was grinning, patting the spot to her left as Nejire was already sitting a little far off on her right.

The blonde immediately sat down next to his mate, nuzzling into her hair for affection. Tamaki complied, joining his new friend on the ground.

As he knew she would, she subconsciously moved a little closer to him, and as she bent towards her bag to pull out his extra lunch, exposed her unmarked neck. The shy boy uncontrollably salivated, and it was not from the good smell of the food.

Looking away ashamed and confused, he accepted the box when it was extended his way, opening it to reveal tasty looking strips of meat.

“It’s goat meat! I don’t know if you have ever eaten some, but it’s pretty tasty. I wonder what you could manifest from it...”

The meat was tender, somehow still warm, and Tamaki closed his eyes to savor it. He did not immediately activate his quirk, preferring to enjoy it a little bit longer. The Alpha had made this food for him .

“I want to taste it too!” He vaguely heard his friend comment enthusiastically.

It was almost as if he was her Omega.

A low growl interrupted his thoughts, and he opened his eyes in a start. In the time he had closed his eyes, the blonde Alpha had gotten closer, leaning over him to take a strip of meat for himself, coming into his personal space in the process.

His gaze turned to the Alpha on his side, as if in slow motion, and he saw the flash of her canines, her steely gaze set on Mirio; until the next second, when her hand flew to her mouth to cover it, and her eyes grew distressed.

“I’m so sorry!” There was still a trace of the growl in her voice, though she tried her best to muffle it.

Faster than any of them could react, she was on her feet, putting some distance between them as she walked away.

“What happened?” Nejire asked, concerned, as Mirio leaned back on his heels, equally as confused.

Tamaki quickly got up, before following his friend. She hadn’t gone very far, simply leaning on the other side of a nearby tree, taking deep breaths with a hand resting on her clavicle.

She immediately noticed his presence. Her cheeks looked warm with obvious embarrassment.

“A-are you okay?” He timidly asked, looking into her eyes in search of a deeper sign of her being upset.

The girl smiled to reassure him; even in her state.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry you had to witness that. Why don’t you go back to the others and I’ll join you in a minute?”

Tamaki nodded, feeling powerless as to how to cheer her up. One of his hands shyly found her shoulder, the way Mirio would often pat his when he was upset. It felt weird, as his inner Omega cried at the distance between them. He should be wrapping his arms around her, nuzzling her neck, not awkwardly standing so far from her.  

“You-you’re not leaving, are you?”

She shook her head, and even chuckled a little.

“If I was leaving, I’d take my stuff with me.” Her voice was meant to be comforting, yet Tamaki couldn't help but doubt.

“Do you- Do you want me to b-bring you your stuff?” His voice was meek at the thought of already saying goodbye for the day.

Her hands finally left her chest and she pulled him in for a quick hug, and Tamaki stopped breathing. He had never been this close to her in their acquaintance; in fact, he had rarely ever been this close to anyone else.

Her scent of fresh verbena flooded his nose, and it took every bit of control in him not to purr or chirp happily at the sensation. It was so much better than cradling her scarf... Alpha smells so good. Never let go.  

“Oh, no, honey. I’m fine, really.”

The embrace was gone as quickly as it had started, and Tamaki went back to his friends with his cheeks red but a tiny smile on his lips. It disappeared as soon as he saw the worry in his friends’ expressions, and he sat back awkwardly with them.

“She’s coming back.”

True to her words, the Alpha walked up to them a couple of minutes later, making sure to sit a bit further away from all of them this time, especially Mirio. Her cheeks had found their natural color again, though she still appeared embarrassed.

“I’m sorry... My inner Alpha’s a bit overzealous. It has nothing to do with you, Togata.”

Both the males’ eyes lit up in understanding, while Nejire cocked her head to the side. Alpha overzealousness was not a foreign condition to them, and was in fact pretty common in families who fell a lot on that side of the spectrum, like that of their new friend.  

Alphas of this condition were more territorial, more attached to their nature. They would often live among Betas and Omegas, as they felt a strong need to protect and care for both, but in return, found interacting with other Alphas difficult, if not entirely unpleasant.

It suddenly appeared to Tamaki that he had never seen the sweet-scented Alpha in company of any other of her kind, except for... him. Even Mirio; She always sat opposite him whenever they ate together, and never seemed too interested in hanging around him alone. Though the shy boy had never met her friend group, she had mentioned several times that they were mostly Betas and Omegas.  

There was no doubt she liked his company, though, and Tamaki felt his ears grow hot at the thought.

“It’s no problem.” The good-natured blonde waved her apologies away.  

Nejire blinked, looking at Tamaki, and their Alpha friend, and Tamaki again, eyes wide and round with confusion.

“I’m just surprised you’re so close to our Chicken-heart, if your Alpha is so... potent.”

Their friend chuckled awkwardly, having one of her hands come and rub the back of her neck.

“Oh, my Alpha is very attached to Amajiki. It may be because of how we met, but I’m feeling quite protective over him.” Her eyes widened. “Not that I don’t think you can protect yourself! You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Tamaki’s entire face felt like burning; but the little smile he hid behind his next mouthful of food betrayed the way he was preening at the compliment. She seemed to relax at his reaction; many an Alpha would have been vexed or ashamed to have another one feeling the need to protect them.

The boy couldn’t understand why; knowing she felt that way about him made him feel covered and cared for.

And if that made him Omega, then... He was fine with it.

Tamaki knew it not to be the best idea to nest again in his dorm room; but after spending an entire afternoon with the verbena-scented Alpha, he couldn’t stop himself. They had walked around town, had a late lunch, and spent some time just resting in a park. The air had been cold, and Tamaki had scolded himself for not bringing warmer clothes than his usual attire; that is, until the Alpha had smiled knowingly and pulled another scarf from her bag.  

She always carried one more pair of gloves and a scarf, at this season, she had told him; so that if one of her classmates forgot, she might lend them. The feeling of her scent surrounding him had felt familiar. He had not talked for the next twenty minutes, too flustered to think of anything to say except a quiet word of thanks.

Now in his small nest, he breathed in his shirt; which still held the faintest trace of her scent from where the scarf was tucked under his coat.

Would he die before ever telling her how her scent made him feel? Probably.  

Would he still steal these moments to himself, indulging in the fantasy of her knowing how he felt and taking care of him all the same? Yes.

Tamaki did not entertain the idea that the girl would ever truly be interested in him; she knew him as a peer, his scent was that of an Alpha, and so were his pheromones. Made to keep other Alphas at a distance...

While he did not think she considered him a potential mate, Tamaki had, in the weeks of knowing her, come to terms with the fact that he did. What little Alpha instincts that remained in him were itching to impress her, show her he would be good. He was now in the uncomfortable situation of wanting nothing more than to court her discreetly, but not knowing how to, and not sure if he was willing to jeopardize their current friendship.  

She liked him as the shy Alpha she had met, but, would she like him if he presented to her as something else? As an Omega ? Would she accept it if he let his experimental tendencies show?

The sound of a door closing in the next room pulled Tamaki from his thoughts. Mirio must have come back from his internship duties at Night Eye’s agency a bit earlier than Tamaki had anticipated. Good. At this hour, there weren’t too many of their classmates present yet in the dorms, and the shy boy had an important discussion to have with his best friend.  

After a lot of anxious thoughts, sleepless nights and timid bursts of confidence, Tamaki had come to the conclusion that he wanted to tell Mirio. He really did. He knew the blonde to care a lot about him, and it would be overall much easier to be himself if the closest friend he had knew. Tamaki was even kind of excited to talk about it to Mirio, whom he knew to be very much involved in his Omega’s life.

Next step would be to tell Nejire. He knew she would be overexcited to have one more thing in common with him. Tamaki could already hear her blabbering about showing him the best way to arrange a room to reveal the bet nest spots, or some other thing her eager mind would want to share with him.

He had decided he would tell them, and soon, starting by the Alpha. Even though he could not help the nervousness from making his hands all sweaty and his cheeks all red, he was looking forward to the time when he would not have to choose between his best friend and his real self.

That thought was what led him to put on a clean shirt, tidy his nest a little, and leave his room to knock on Mirio’s door.

“Oh, hi Tamaki! What’s up?” the blonde smiled at him with his usual liveliness.

The dark-haired boy gulped, and his hands found each other to keep his fingers occupied.

“There’s, hm, there’s s-something I wanted to t-tell you, and... Hm, show you? I-if you have the t-time. It’s, hm, p-pretty important.”

The blonde lifted an eyebrow, and Tamaki blushed, before nodding to the door of his own room.  

“Of course!”

The part of the shy boy that was half-hoping his friend would not have the time shuddered in uneasiness, but Tamaki was determined. He had lived long enough as someone he was not. Mirio deserved to know, and he, Tamaki Amajiki, deserved to be himself around the people he loved.

The elf boy let his inner pep talk guide them to the door of his dorm room, and after a deep breath, he entered. Before he could find words and the will to tell them, Mirio beat him to it.

“Wow, sick nest, Tamaki!” Mirio’s face broke into a confused grin.

A sigh of relief left the shy boy –his friend seemed in good spirits about this– as he mindlessly took a nearby plush in his arms. It was one his Alpha had gotten him a few weeks before. She had seen the little octopus in the plush store as she was looking for a gift for her youngest sister, and couldn’t help buying it for him. Tamaki had kept it close since, sleeping with a stuffed animal for the first time since he was a child. Alpha can provide.  

He dreamt of being bold enough to ask her to scent it for him, so that he could openly cuddle into her smell and not feel like a creep sniffing the leftovers of their hanging out. Maybe she would accept, out of friendship; or maybe she would refuse to fuel his crush and leave him to die of embarrassment and heartbreak.

Seeing his best friend’s confused good humor did make him feel a bit better, though he was still lost on where to start.

“So, is this about–”

“No!” The shy boy flushed bright red, knowing from Mirio’s look who he was referring to. “N-not really.”

He squeezed the plush further against him.  

“It’s- It’s just... Everything feels m-more intense with her. N-natural. I l-like who I am when I’m... when...” He did not dare mumble the rest of his thoughts, afraid of rambling too much.

Mirio nodded in understanding. “I felt the same when I started courting Nejire. Like all these things we read about suddenly make sense!”

Tamaki looked down into his arms, shaking his head slightly.

“Except you’re an A-alpha, and she-she's an Omega, so it’s n-normal it makes sense to you.” His last words felt just a bit too bitter, and the shy boy immediately slapped his mouth in remorse. It wasn’t a nice thing to say, he figured, to his friend who was trying to understand. “Sorry...”

To his surprise, Mirio let out a little laugh, rubbing his neck in what seemed to be guilt.

“No, I’m sorry. You’re right, I probably can’t understand. Have you felt this way for a long time?”

God, he would resent him for keeping “it” a secret for so long. Should he lie? How could he explain?

“I- I n-never r-really felt like... like an Alpha ...”

Tamaki really wished his admission didn’t have to bring guilt to his blonde friend. When Mirio hung his head slightly, the Manifest user didn’t know how to feel. Congratulations, Tamaki. Way to make your best friend feel like shit. Still, in the way the blonde relaxed slightly, the shy boy read relief.

“I’m glad, then. I was a bit afraid you were trying to change yourself because of your crush.” Mirio let out a light-hearted laugh, and Tamaki’s pointy ears felt like burning at the mention. “But you’re just asserting your own person, and it’s amazing! I’m just sorry for pushing you in the wrong direction for so long. It’s really brave of you to have tried so hard to be someone you were not, when you shouldn’t have had to.”

Tamaki smiled timidly.

“I-it’s okay.”

Mirio took in the nest in the corner of the room, arranged in a fashion they had both seen Nejire do hers.  

“So, you identify as an Omega?”

To have this discussion, on Mirio’s usual light but determined tone, Tamaki was surprised he didn’t feel the need to face the nearest wall. His friend’s eagerness to know all about him was... pleasant.  

“I’m... n-not a hundred percent sure yet, but... I think so.”

Mirio chuckled light heartedly, almost as a second thought.

“That’s great. If I may make a suggestion, though?”

It was Tamaki’s time to be confused, as his blonde friend pointed to the scented shirt he had obviously been cuddling before leaving his room.

“You should really ask her to scent you something officially, a mate could skin you for what you’re doing.”

Cue Tamaki burying his face in the plushie, muttering an indistinct and embarrassed mess of words, much to Mirio’s amusement.

[honeypirate]

How The Crow Flies part 3

Master list

A/n : I don’t know where the girls teams play for preliminary games and is kid it gets said. I just finished season two.

It’s been a few weeks now since practicing with them, you had to focus more on your own practicing with your team to prepare for the prelims. You kept a steady text thread of memes with Tanaka, occasionally talking about other things but always going back to memes, you had to admit you loved how goofy and funny he was. You beat Noya in every eight ball game you played, but he always won at pong. But your conversations with Asahi were by far your favorite. He preferred to talk to you in class and phone calls but even texts were deep and meaningful, your feelings for him quickly got stronger the more you got to know him. Tsukishima asked for number after a week or so, which seriously surprised you. You were beginning to think he actually didn’t like you, but now you frequently discussed your favorite crime podcasts. Daichi ended up helping you a lot with one of your classes and he had some good tips with volleyball, it was like he adopted you into the team and was your captain too.

When it was finally time for the prelims you were lucky that the girls games were in the same place as the boys just different gyms, your game being later on meant that you could watch them play their first. You walked into their side of the gym to see Asahi and encourage him. It’s still a while before their game so you watch them warm up and you join them for it, stretching next to Asahi you joke around with him and it actually calms your nerves for your game. “Orange is really your color Asahi” you say as he stretches his hamstrings, bending his body down so his face was lower and a lock of his hair was down the side his face lost from his bun. You reach up to twist the hair between your fingers softly. “You’ve really calmed my nerves just talking to you, you’re like my good luck charm” you drop his hair which now has a little cute wave from your fingers and he blushes and gets shy “I’m glad I could help you” he says quietly. “I wish I had a good luck charm for you. But I know you don’t need one. You’re the best Ace I know so go out there and kill it like I know you can” he looks moved by your support and his face turns an even darker red but he looks so determined you’d kiss him if you could. He mumbles something you couldn’t catch when Daichi calls everyone over to meet before the came starts. Before they get into position Asahi comes over, and places his jacket around your shoulders and before you can ask why he says “Kiyoko isn’t here today so you can sit on the bench but this is so you look like our manager” you blush, you meant to go up into the stands but now you don’t have to “thank you. I was just going to go the stands but this is so much better” he nods and then lightly shoved you towards the bench so the game can start. You zip up the jacket and notice it smells like sandalwood and men’s deodorant.

The amount you cheered for them when they won their game, it was like you were the one who won. When they came over you ran and jumped on Asahi’s shoulders while screaming cheers for them, Tanaka and Noya jumping around you guys. “Y/n!” Your Captain, Yui, comes in the gym “our game is about to start! Let’s go!” She yells and you hop off of Asahi’s shoulders and take off running to the other gym. Sending a wave behind you to them and they just laugh. You completely forgot about his jacket until you had to take it off for your game. Your game was close, you won the first set, but your setter got hit in the face with a ball at a weird angle and broke her nose sending in your second but she hardly made it to any morning training with you guys. It was a close second game but they took it. Then you guys lost the third and half of your players started to cry when they got to the locker room. “Guys we played amazing! I know it sucks to lose and it’s normal to feel regret, but we did our best. And we were a great team out there. So feel the loss as much as you need to feel it but know I’m here to support you on and off that court!” You were still fired up, honestly you did your job, you saved almost every spiked ball, and from Noya’s tips you got a lot of the blocked balls as well. You know you did amazing, and so did your teammates. So why let it still bother you? Why hold on to it? You always let things go easy. They did their best and you would never ask any more from them. You pulled your captain aside “Yui I know you’re taking this hard, even if you don’t show it, and that’s okay. Just know I am here for you okay?” She nods “thanks y/n. I really appreciate it” she then goes off on her own. You shoved you stuff in your bag, opting to keep your uniform on and you throw Asahi’s jacket back on before you run off to the boys games, they should be in the middle of their first set now against the iron wall so you rush to see them in action.

You round the corner to catch them block one of Asahi’s spikes. “Oof” you say quietly and make your way around to the bench. Intensely watching the game as Hinata and Kageyama break out their quick attack. Your cheering brought Asahi’s eyes over to you, noticing that you showed up he quirks his brow silently asking about your game. You just shrug with a smile then give him a thumbs up and a wink. When Date Tech calls for a time out, he comes over to you “are you okay?” He asks awkwardly, but genuinely concerned for you, “yeah I’m okay. We played amazing and won the first but our setter broke her nose in the second set so it is what it is.” You say as you stand up and hand him his water bottle. His fingers brush yours and since your adrenaline was gone and you’ve been sitting for a while you actually became cold. “how are your fingers that cold?” You laugh “I don’t know really, I get cold at weird times.” You zip his jacket up as he goes over to get pointers from Ukai then goes back into the game. They play amazing, in these past few weeks you’ve become their number one fan. You love how connected this game has made you all.

It’s time for the last set. Your heart is racing for them and you shove your hands in the pockets of his jacket for the first time. Your hands brush a small folded piece of paper and you can’t help but pull it out and open it. It’s a little doodle of the time you teased Tanaka with a little caption that reads “she’s so funny” it makes you smile and you love it so much you can’t help but shove it in a little pocket of your gym bag. They’re at match point now. It’s so close. You’re anxiously playing with the zipper on the jacket. How did Noya make that save?! Twice?! And once with his foot?! He’s so amazing! And Asahi! He’s doing so amazing! He can make this last ball! He can clear the wall! You’re cheering them on so loud!

You think you actually lost your voice from your cheers when they won. You jumped on Asahi’s back again and he laughed and spun around with you, you hopped down and you high fived him screaming in excitement. “You guys are AMAZINNNGGGG!!! YOU DID ITTTTT!! Asahi you GOT PAST THE IRON WALL” you both laugh together and when he realizes that your hands are still in his from the high five he blushes and you smile at him so full of excitement and praise for how well he played. You celebrated with them and when you went to unzip your jacket to give it back, he stopped you grabbing your hands “are you riding back on our bus?” He asks you and you look down embarrassed “If I could? My team already left, they took the loss really hard.. I guess I didn’t really think it through when I left them to come watch you guys” you scratch the back of your neck and he laughs “it’s okay. You’re always welcome with us. Keep it until we get back, don’t want you weirdly freezing on us. You’re my lucky charm now” you blush and he blushes and you both avoid eye contact.

You gather up your things and help them pack up, praising them for how they played as you went to sit and watch the Aoba Johsai game before heading off to the bus back home.You get in the bus and sit next to a window, when Asahi gets on you smile at him and nod towards to empty seat next to you, he nods at you and winks. He actually winks at you, it makes you laugh out of shock but blush feeling butterflies in your chest. He sits next to you and you talk for a while, showing him memes on your phone and playing text games for a bit “that’s my contact name?” He asks quietly before he looked over watching you play him back you laugh, you changed his name while you were sitting in the bus waiting for him, you changed it to my lucky charm. “Yeah I changed it earlier, do you like it?” You look up at him and smile, it’s dark in the bus and the low glow form your phone lit both of your faces. You noticed the subtle glow of blush on his cheeks as he nods. Soon you both are just sitting in the dark as the rest of the bus sleeps, you feel yourself falling asleep but the bus is kind of uncomfortable, you can feel the heat from Asahi’s body next to you and it’s just so comforting. You lean against him and move your arm under his lacing your fingers together, you feel him tense up like you knew he would “is this okay?” You whisper quietly and he relaxes “yes” he says so confidently it makes your heart pound. You relax into him again and he squeezes your hand before you both get a tiny bit of sleep on the way home.

When you get back to the school you hesitate, you don’t know if you should walk home or wait with them. You go to unzip the jacket and Asahi takes your hands in theirs stopping you. “Wait for me? I’ll walk you home.” You feel relived and you nod and smile. He takes one of your hands and you walk into the gym tigether. They have their meeting and they run through some practices, you help with whatever they beed. When you’re done you get up and as you throw your bag over your shoulder Asahi comes back to you and catches it before taking it from you and throwing it over his own shoulder “Let’s go” he says with a smile and you head off together towards your home. the rest of the team going a different direction. After a few minutes of comfortable silence he resches over and takes your hand again lacing his fingers with yours. “Are your hands ever warm y/n?” He says with a laugh “only when I play volleyball. Other than that, a cute boy holding them is the preferred way to warm them up” you bump your shoulders softly together and smile at him. Before you get to your house you stop and squeeze his hand, taking his other hand in your other as well “my hands are so small compared to yours” you say quietly as you look down at them, dainty in his big strong ones. You look up into his eyes, your faces lit up by street lights “Thank you for walking me home, I know we’re not there yet but you know how my mom is” you laugh and remember the time your mom made you let her talk to him on the phone. Your eyes sparkle as you reach up and pull out his pony holding his bun up letting his hair fall around his face. You rake your fingers through his soft locks with a small smile on your lips. “I stole the paper in your jacket pocket” you say quietly and he freezes up, shocked, his face turning red and he obviously forgot about it. “It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Well. Okay. second compared to you” you didn’t stop softly playing with his hair “y....y/n” his voice is quiet, timid, and when he doesn’t continue you keep talking “you’re amazing, Asahi, you know that?” You tuck his hair behind his ear and place your hand on his cheek. “I’d kiss you if you weren’t so tall so I’m gonna have to just wait until you’re confident enough to kiss me yourself” you were already on your tip toes this whole time and when you stand flat on your feet again you run your hand down his chest. Taking his hand you gently pull him along with you to your door, the whole way he’s quiet and looks serious. When you get to your door you unzip his jacket but before you take it off he stops you again “y/n.” His voice was shy but serious and he spoke quickly “I am timid and not the most confident with girls. But I like you a lot. I have for a while now.” He leans down presses his lips to yours. Your heart explodes and you’re filled with joy, you feel your skin tingle as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, he pulls back way too soon and you can’t help but frown when he pulls away “Did you... not like it?” His voice was worried and shy “no!” You yell before laughing and quietly continuing to speak “No not at all Asahi,” you play with his hair softly and look deep into his eyes “I just was sad it was over so quickly” he blushes a deep red but smiles at you and reached up and holding your face softly in his hands, his thumbs softly rubbing your cheeks before he leans down and kisses you again, a little more bolder this time, you frown again but you can’t hold the smile and laugh that comes when he kisses you three more times quickly and he laughs softly “there’s that beautiful smile I love.” Your mom knocks on the front living room window next to the door and you sigh, he softly rubs your cheeks before letting go and standing up straight, “Come with us again tomorrow. Bring my jacket then. That way it will smell like you” he gives your hands a squeeze and grins at you before leaving you smiling on your doorstep.

[1zashreena1]

Come Back for Seconds -11

18+, m/f/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Surprise Date Night comes with Dessert. 

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

POSSESSIVE DIEGO, BDSM power dynamics, potential casual poly relationships, SMUT, threesome, Princess gets a full body licking, the L word, feels, plus size woman+fit man, is a relationship happening?? apparently.

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115​ @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

Fourth of July falls on a Saturday this year and that means you get a three day weekend. Diego is deviously overjoyed about it and will not tell you why. This is scary. You are concerned. Flying up on Thursday night means less traffic and less headaches. Also, apparently, it means more immediate access to your Murder Panther.

Diego is waiting with Bastian on the tarmac, hovering outside the SUV while the plane lands. Its acutely adorable to see him pacing impatiently for you. The instant the door opens you trip down the airstairs and directly into his arms. Diego purrs loudly as he gropes your butt. 

"My Princess. I missed you. Give me kiss, now." Diego demands and you laughingly comply. Cupping his bearded cheeks you tilt your head to the right and seal your lips together. Diego groans as he rubs against you, he flicks the tip of his tongue out and it results in immediate capitulation. Your mouth opens wide and the mocha taste of pure Diego washes over you. His goatee is soft under your thumbs, the mustache burns pleasantly, and you can feel his lashes flutter on your cheeks. That sinfully talented tongue glides over yours, teasing and soothing in turns. You take the time to trace over his perfect teeth, smoothing along the roof of his mouth until Diego pulls back to pant, "How was your trip?"

He is stunning like this, gaze soft and cheeks flushed. It makes you feel so powerful that you can bring him to this state with only a kiss.

"Better now that I'm here." Your tone is brimming with desire, breathy and decadent. Those brown eyes are fiery in the evening light and he is so beautiful and this man wants you and this is everything you never thought you could have and you can't stop yourself from exclaiming, "I love you, Diego."

His confused blinking is cute, but his eyes crinkling in delight is even better. "I love you, too, my Princess. Come, I have a surprise for you." Upon Diego's release you slide gracelessly to the ground while he reaches back to open the rear door of the SUV. You peek inside cautiously but its just the leather seats and a bottle of Mexican Coke waiting for you. "Did you think the surprise was in the car?" Diego laughs fondly when you shrug defensively.

"With you? It could be anything." Your answer is delivered with a grin as you climb up into the vehicle, he ushers you along by smacking your ass as you pass by. You slide to the far side of the backseat but don't really settle in too much.

When Diego crooks a finger at you with one hand while patting his lap with the other you quirk a brow at him in challenge. You are happy to lose this battle and snuggle down into his lap for a lazy makeout session as Bastian shakes his head from the front seat.

His left hand is shoved down the back of your leggings so he can fiddle with your thong, but the right has a deep grip in your hair that Diego uses to control the position of your head. You must be feeling particularly submissive because you're content to let him arrange you to his liking.

Your head is tilted far back and to the left, giving Diego unfettered access to all the sensitive skin of your neck. He kisses, licks, nibbles, and rubs every inch available while you whine and moan in ever higher pitches. The answering rumbles and growls delivered directly to your ear are devastating. Panting and writhing, you're desperate to have some part of him shoved hard up against you but Diego is being a tease tonight.

"Please, baby. Gimme something, touch me. Diego, Diego, please." You sound pathetic. You aren't even ashamed. His lap is solid under you but every time you get wiggled into place to grind on him he shifts and dislodges you.

The hand on your thong rises, pulling the material up with it to rub against your wetness. Diego rasps playfully, "I am touching you." That gravelly tone is rightfully conceited, you're a dripping mess here and Diego is suspiciously… calm.

You gasp suddenly, "Did, oh my god, did you jack off before I got here!?" Diego yanks your head back so you're looking straight up. 

"Princess." The rumble is a warning tone. "Now why would I use my hand when I could have any one of your wet holes?" Diego is so smug and you want to hate it, but you both know he's right. He licks all the way up your neck like a dog.

You sob with pleasure, I fucking love that tongue.

"I know you do, bonita." He rumbles under your chin. 

You didn't even know you were talking. This man has melted your brain. You hope he never stops.

Diego resumes kissing your neck until he reaches your ear, "Which hole do I want right now?" This man is fucking filthy and you love it. The whisper is vaguely threatening and you roll your hips back in an attempt to sway his decision. He continues in a taunting voice, "Does my Princess want to come right now? Right here in this truck like a good little girl? Are you wet and open for Diego?" 

You try to nod but his grip prevents it, so you have to use your words. You shiver, then gasp out, "Yeah, yeah. Please. Please touch me, baby." It sounds like literal porn and you are only a tiny bit proud. 

Diego's left hand slides under your thong and sneaks between your cheeks to settle with the pad of his middle finger pressed flush to your asshole. You tense briefly but he doesn't push. 

"Touch yourself for me. Come while I watch." Diego leans back to give you space so you can follow his orders like a good girl. You don't even have a chance to question it, your right hand is burrowed into your crotch before you realize it. Fingers working furiously, you start riding your own hand, whiny with need.

Diego watches hungrily. "There it is. Feels good, yes?" Thank fuck your weak nod is enough because words aren't happening right now. His big finger circles your hole steadily, its almost too much. You can feel everything winding tighter, so can Diego. "Are you good? Are you going to be so good for me, Princess?" 

Between his dark voice, the nasty tone, and the contrasting sweet words, you can tell this won't take long. It never does when Diego is involved. 

"Come," he breathes in your ear. "Let me feel it while you make yourself come in Diego's lap." Oh fuck.

Your pussy clenches down then releases the tension in agonizingly good contractions. There's nowhere to hide your face, the sobbing wails that escape your mouth are fully audible. Your hips jerk as you ride it out, tears slipping from your lashes. That finger never falters the entire time, all the while Diego is cooing and praising you, "Good girl. Very good, pretty Princess. You let Diego touch you everywhere, so soft for me. Yes, there you go. Come, little girl. Come. Perfect."

You melt into him and Diego releases your hair to capture your jaw so he can plunder your mouth. You just lay there, limp and pliant, moaning with satisfaction. Finally, you stir to reach down to his lap and Diego stops you.

"No, I'm waiting." His grin is all teeth and you are straight up frightened. Both of your hands are captured and brought back up to his face. Diego takes great amusement in watching you squirm and fidget with anxiety. 

"What, um." You're momentarily distracted by Bastian pulling into the underground garage of Diego's building. "What are you waiting for? Exactly?" 

Diego can sense your apprehension, you don't like surprises and he knows it. One big hand tucks you under his chin but the other straightens your clothing. He leans down to tickle your ear, "You will shower, then get dressed, and then we have a dinner date. I have a new dress for you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The new dress is a stretchy, silky, weirdly open back number and there are new shoes to match. The color is indescribable, it shimmers from a washed out wine to smoky steel blue. The back is open from just under bra band level to waist and you are delighted to see that it has the Built-in Bra of Industrial Strength and an adjustable spiderweb of straps.

This makes the ninth pair of Louboutins he has gotten you. Diego discovered that they make their shoes to order and thus small enough for your ridiculously tiny feet, each pair fits perfectly with no break-in period required and they're actually comfortable. 

By the time you finish in the bathroom and come out to dress Diego has already changed into a suit. Its blue, not a navy blue, but an extremely deep royal blue that under bright light might actually look violet. The grey shirt underneath is shiny and he has an honest-to-god tie that matches the wine color in your dress. He glances up from his phone and you drown in those chocolate depths. 

"Come, let me tighten the straps, shorty." His cheeky smirk snaps you out of it. Shoes on, dress adjusted, eye makeup complimented, Diego proceeds to herd you out to Surprise Date Night.

When Bastian pulls up in front of a place that you know has to have a waitlist you're not remotely surprised that Diego strolls past the crowd and the hostess leads you to a small nook ducked off into a corner.

You are surprised to see Laylah waiting for you.

"Princess!" She greets you with a big smile and an even bigger hug. She towers over you in her heels and you both laugh when your face is smooshed into her petite cleavage. "You look," Laylah's assessing gaze sweeps over you from head to toe, getting hung up on your decolletage only briefly, "Delicious." She waggles her eyebrows and you snort with unladylike giggles. 

"That's my line, beautiful!" You shoot back.

Dinner passes in a blur of easy conversation and even easier laughter. You really like Laylah, she's funny and laid back and entertaining without being overwhelming or demanding. You know these are all part of her professional skillset but Laylah is genuinely happy to see you. She tells you about her trip home to Lebanon to visit her grandparents and you explain your convoluted insurance job at a hospital. All three of you make raunchy jokes and horrible innuendo about everything under the sun. Laylah is fascinated with your fierce independence and you admire her free spirit. The two of you take selfies while Diego orders the entire dessert menu just because he can. 

You're eating a chocolate torte as obscenely as possible while Diego purrs in approval when long fingers swipe some of the mousse off and present it directly to your mouth.

Laylah is watching you intently, her wide eyes dark with interest. Huskily, she asks, "Lick?" 

You lock eye contact and lap your tongue all the way up her digit to swirl around the tip confidently. 

Laylah's lips part to sigh, "I can't stop thinking about you. You and this tongue and those hypnotic ocean eyes."

Your breath hitches as you realize that she means it. Laylah is serious, she actually wants you. The surprise must be evident on your face because Laylah smiles and goes on softly, "I said I liked big girls and I meant it. The two of you together are like fire. I want to go home with you again."

Her long fingers stroke down your neck, skim over your chest, and land heavily on your thigh. Laylah insinuates a knee between yours and leans down close. Its too tempting, you sink hands into her sleek hair and bring your lips up to hers. She tastes like caramel and espresso, but she smells even better. The kiss goes on forever, then turns into two kisses, and before you know it the count is well past ten.

"Fuck." Diego croaks from across the table, startling you. 

Laylah laughs wryly as you turn back to your Murder Panther. 

Your extremely aroused Murder Panther. His hands are fisted on the table, but you can clearly see his erection. Leaning toward him you hiss, "I wanna watch her ride your face."

Diego looks like he was just stabbed. His expression goes through several transformations very rapidly before he nods jerkily. You turn back to find Laylah biting her lip while watching him. "Do you wanna feel that?" You ask Laylah.

Her eyes are sultry and she jumps a little when you touch her leg. Hand sneaking up her skirt, you watch her carefully for any objection but Laylah only parts her thighs. Diego must have caught the movement because his low growl bubbles up. You two girls share a look, enjoying not just each other but his reactions, too. Laylah leans down to brush your cheek with her lips, the matte lip color hasn't budged yet so you tilt to give her space. Turning your head puts you directly in Diego's sights, He looks like he's dying. This is fantastic, you chuckle to yourself. 

"I've never had a short beard like that. Most of my male clients don't taste me, you know?" Laylah laughs into your ear.

"Oh no," You lock eyes with Diego and grin evilly. "He likes to lick pussy. And he's good at it." He licks his lips unconsciously, those dark eyes are huge. You can almost feel his tongue on you, the memories are so vivid. 

"I want to try. Is that okay with you? Its painfully obvious that you two are in love." Laylah murmurs into your hair. Your jaw drops open in shock, It is??

Diego is completely unfazed by her proclamation. Am I the only oblivious idiot here or what?

Diego watches you intensely before holding out a hand, "Whatever you want, Princess. This… wasn't my plan, exactly, but I am not protesting." He actually looks a little contrite, then you recall that this wasn't discussed prior to dinner. He clearly remembers your previous parameters and did not mean to assume. You kind of want to let him squirm for a while… but you can't. 

You turn back to Laylah, "No dick. And I'm being lazy tonight. Agreed?" Her nod is enthusiastic and Diego whines softly in reaction. Your gaze swings to Diego, "Yes?"

The shark smile is back. "Like I said, whatever my Princess wants my Princess gets."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Its different when you're just slightly buzzed instead of fully inebriated on some type of consciousness-altering substance. Easier than you worried but still a little more complicated than last time. You're not as loose or casual, you second guess where to put your hands until Diego hauls you into his lap in the backseat. He's only half hard, he senses your apprehension, and pulls your forehead to his.

"Do you want to stop this?" His question is direct and simple. Big hands settle on your hips but don't roam so you can think with clarity.

"No. I want this." You lean forward to rub his cheek with your own and whisper into his ear, "But tell me I'm your priority." A little bit of your insecurity bleeds through your request.

Diego hugs you close, pressing your chest to his with solid force. "Of course, mi amor. Laylah will go home after this, but I am keeping you. Princess is mine and I'm your Diego." That dark voice is so soothing to you and his hands cup your face to turn your lips to his.

The kiss goes on forever, hot tongue and soft lips and tickly beard. Diego rumbles underneath you, his enjoyment is prominent and reassuring. Laylah whimpers from the other side of the car.

"Don't stop!" She chokes out when you turn to check on her. Well okay then. Diego found himself another voyeur. You don't check the dental records for the beribboned horse and resume attempting to climb down Diego's throat for the remainder of the ride back to the penthouse.

The elevator ride is more of the same but with the addition of Laylah tongue. They pass you back and forth between them until you're dizzy and panting with it. Diego leads you both over to the sectional, you are pleased to note that he never tries to take Laylah anywhere near the stairs and up to the bed you share with him. You are also pleasantly surprised to see that his hands stay on you, outside of her elbow to steer while she's distracted with your cleavage. He is being careful and mindful and it tumbles you over from moderate arousal to burning desire.

Everything is a jumbled mess on the sofa; messy kisses, you can't tell whose hand is on your ass at first (it's Diego's), but they're both at your tits. In fact, they are getting in each other's way trying to get the top of your dress down and it makes you dissolve into giggles. Diego bites down on the back of your neck like he's establishing dominance and your entire spine turns to jello. Laylah whines at your squeakiness. 

You flop your right hand behind yourself where it smacks down onto Diego's thigh and he jumps, then groans, "Again!" Interesting.

"No. N-not yet, baby." Your breathy refusal makes Laylah raise a brow in question. "I wanna watch you in action." Laylah is already rolling the stretchy skirt down over her hips. 

You turn around to find him panting, pulling his shirt out of the trousers and fighting with the buttons. When you reach out to help Diego snatches you forward with a death grip on your upper arms so he can lick his way into your mouth. Those amazing hands slide up your shoulders and into your hair, controlling your head with ease and familiarity, you pet over scratchy cheeks and broad shoulders. Laylah drapes herself over your back to continue with his shirt removal, you're distracted by the feel of her nipple piercings.

The kisses pause for air and you sorta-kinda expect Diego to go for Laylah's lips, so you seem a little confused when it doesn't happen. "You don’t want to…?" Big brown eyes blink at you slowly. 

"No. Want you more. Always." He rumbles quietly. Okay, so he trusts Laylah because that is some Soft Murder Panther on display here, you ponder briefly.

"Fuuuuuck, that is so goddamn hot." Laylah's kinks are not just voyeurism but apparently voyeurism specifically of the lovey-dovey variety. In fact, you can hear the wet sounds of Laylah touching herself… and so can Diego. He peers over your shoulder with focus, licking his lips yet again. You're jolted by the sudden and ferocious need to see his face buried in her pert little ass.

"Okay!" You point to Diego, "Naked now, on your back on the chaise!" Turning to Laylah, you bark, "You! Stand up!" In the time it takes you to urge her upright Diego has stripped fully and flopped down as directed, massive erection dark and leaking. You're a little shit, you have to touch it. Diego watches you stroke him firmly with a slitted gaze, purring happily.

As Laylah approaches his head she looks to you for direction. "You still want beard between your legs?" You ask to confirm. Laylah moans with a nod, biting her bottom lip. Your Cheshire cat grin makes Diego whine, "Then mount up." 

Laylah crawls over Diego and his hands fly to her hips to encourage her down. She sits on his face with quiet confidence and slides her hands down his muscled torso to get to your boobs. You laugh breathlessly, then snort out, "Greedy much? 

"I can't help it. These tits are fucking amazing. Can I touch your ass?" Laylah is practically begging. Diego's hips jerk in encouragement with the idea. 

"Yes, please!" You chirp, then strip the dress off over your head. Laylah cups an asscheek and you push into her hand. Before she can do anything else her entire body jumps and her eyes roll up. There's that tongue.

"Holy. Shit. What. Oh fuck, that feels good." Laylah groans toward the ceiling. You keep stroking him absent-mindedly but reach your other hand out for a studded nipple. "Shit. Shit shit shit."

Your laugh is sly. "All those textures, huh? The goatee is soft but the cheeks are scratchy. His lips are like velvet, right? And that tongue is legit sinful." Your hissing dirty talk is a surprise to everyone. Laylah nods weakly and Diego bucks into your hand. You leave off to smack his inner thigh. He jolts and moans lowly, making Laylah squirm.

"Oh my god. That's like a fucking vibrator!" She is stunned. You watch her body roll as she rides him before your hand moves again, this time you hit higher up. Diego's groan is louder and he keeps it going, moaning and growling into her cunt. His sounds are too much for you. Laylah's hands move with you as you lean down to lick the head of his cock.

Diego spreads his legs for you, arching up to get more while Laylah watches with interest. Finally she speaks, "Can you-oh fuck, just like that. Can, how much can you take, Princess?" Diego's muffled laughter makes you preen. Locking eyes with Laylah, you open wide and slide down on him. And down, down until your nose is buried in his hair and he's writhing. Laylah whispers in shock, "Goddamn." She bends down to look a little closer, "You know, you could make damn good money like that."

Diego's reaction is instantaneous. The vicious snarl makes you pull off in surprise and Laylah jumps up to all fours, too. 

"NO!" Diego barks loudly and all three of you freeze. His face scrunches up in focus and he goes on quickly, "I will take care of you! Mine!"

Laylah is watching your face, trying to gauge if she should leave or not. Diego's chest heaves as he realizes what just came out of him. Your heart is pounding, there is nothing you love more than being claimed. You throw a leg over his hips and settle down on his cock, but not taking it inside yet. Diego bucks involuntarily, hissing with surprise. 

"Yes, baby." You breathe. "And right now I want to see you take care of Laylah." Your hands smooth up her arms and over shoulders to ease her back down. She dives in to kiss you with her caramel tongue. Diego groans at the sight, then jerks her back down to get back to work. And judging from her noises, Diego isn't playing around.

Laylah breaks away to pant, "Oh, ohhh. Fuck. That's so good." You tilt her chin up to watch her lashes flutter, hazel eyes clouded with pleasure. Her mouth moves silently but you can tell its a rapid series of 'yes'. You cup her breasts to play with the bar studs in her nipples, they're fascinating to you. "Oh! Yeah, yeah, keep doing that." Laylah cries, bringing one hand up to cover yours in encouragement. Leaning down, you take the other nipple in your mouth and start sucking on it. "Fuck! Fuck yes! Yes, please don't stop. Please, please."

You moan into her skin and Laylah sobs with pleasure. Her hips are rolling, she is literally riding his face. Fuck that's hot. You can see his chin moving as he works her clit and its killing you. Diego rumbles against her and Laylah stiffens with a gasp. You watch her come apart, face slack and hips trembling. Her chin drops to her chest as it eases, but you bite down on her nipple while patting Diego's hip to keep going. Laylah crumples forward as her abs convulse with a second orgasm. His huge hands glide up to cup her little breasts and you take the opportunity to lick widely over his fingers and her nipple. 

"I can't. I can't. Need a break. Oh, time out, please." Laylah stutters out. Diego releases her and she slides off to the side to collapse in a heap. Diego takes a moment to breathe, gawking at the view of your naked body on top of him. You remember how Laylah looked sitting on him, her flat stomach and perky breasts. Your hands come up to cover your chest self consciously and Diego lurches upright.

"Fuck. You're so perfect, Princess. Ride me, ride this dick." Huge hands cup your face for a searing kiss, his tongue dives deep with it. Your moan is high pitched as Diego raises his knees to trap you. Grabbing his forearms, you roll your torso to grind down so his dick pushes through your folds to your clit. He presses up into your heat, moving with you but never relinquishing your mouth. 

"Mmmmmm." The whiny moan is pure need. Watching your man lick another woman off gives you a weird sense of pride. And just being able to see him in action has you dripping wet. You pull down on his arms, "Hold these." With that choked request your own small hands direct his to your breasts and Diego does not need to be told twice. He chomps down on your neck while flattening your chest just how you like it.

His teeth meander a path to your ear to growl, "Take this dick, Princess. Sit on Diego." It does the trick. Your whole body shudders and you reach down to angle his length into you and-

"Ohhh fuck yes, baby. Yeah, yeahyeahyeah." Your wail is entirely unintentional. God, he's so fucking huge, you're always a little light headed when he first gets fully seated. Its an incredible feeling, like you can't even move because you're so stuffed. Diego is still at your neck, working a pattern of hickeys and beardburn into your skin with obsessive attention. 

"Princess, fuck. Every time, so tight, so fucking tight pussy." He rumbles into your cheek while you sob silently. You definitely have a praise kink and Diego is observant enough to realize that compliments to your physicality are going to inflict the most devastation. His lips brush your ear as he rattles on, "Love watching you swallow my cock. Mouth, pussy, anything. You take it so well, little girl." You're already pulsing, whining and squirming above him. Being impaled is glorious but you need some fucking friction already. Your previously wandering hands (that broad chest is a masterpiece) come back to your own body and straight down to where the two of you are connected. Diego rumbles with approval, "Yesss, touch yourself. Play with that pretty little pussy until you come all over me."

Your eyes slip closed as you work your clit just like you did the car. The combined sensations of his hands roaming your body, his cock shoved so far up you that it might come out your throat, and the very perfect angle applied to your clit is almost too much. You're so focused on the building pleasure that his legs rising behind you and spreading wide isn't enough jostling to cause any delay. Diego rolls his hips slowly and steadily, never losing rhythm as you begin rocking on him. He purrs as his own hands slide down to your hips, squeezing and guiding. Your breasts are cupped, lifted and compressed almost perfectly. Oh fuck, his hands are everywhere--

Your eyes pop open in shock as you remember Laylah is here. Its her hands that are manipulating your cleavage with firm attention. Her body is pressed up tight to your back, abdomen curved to accommodate your ridiculous ass. That explains his legs being so wide open. Speaking of…

Diego is absolutely rapturous underneath you. His face is slack with awe, big brown eyes wide and drowning dark, his mouth hangs open to pant loudly. The naked hunger you see there as he watches you being pleasured, its too much, too emotional. Closing your eyes again, your focus turns inward as you tense and stiffen.

"Yes, Princess. Come, little girl. Come for Diego." The growl does it. Your cunt clenches tight, squeezing hard around him, before your breathing catches and everything snaps. Waves of ecstasy roll through you in ever decelerating rounds.

"I- Yes, yes, baby, f-fucking yessss." There is zero vocal control for Diego-induced orgasms. Your keening yelps drag a groan from him and Laylah moans behind you. Its too much, you collapse forward onto his chest in a graceless sprawl. Diego hauls you up to take your mouth and you bonelessly let him do whatever he wants. The kiss is filthy and desperate, he licks your entire mouth messily. Filled with Diego at both ends, you whimper in high pitches. 

The sound makes your Murder Panther snap. Huge hands sink into your hair to yank your head back roughly so you have to look at his fierce expression. Teeth bared and brows drawn together, he looks vicious. Diego growls ferociously, "I'm going to fuck you now, Princess." 

All you can do is hang on. 

Diego keeps your head held tight and uses the same arm to squash you down to his chest. His other hand holds your pelvis immobile while his hips snap powerfully. The head of that amazing cock rams into your cervix with every thrust and you know your sobs have to be pathetic. Squeaks and mewls fall from your lips as he fucks you in a position that no one else has ever managed. Its amazing how Diego can manipulate your thick body, you always feel little and delicate under his massive hands. 

"Come again! Come, Princess!" His snarled order is accompanied by a slap to your ass. The pain triggers another climax and Diego fucks harshly through your contractions. Something brushes your lower back, then soft lips are kissing over your right cheek. Laylah mouths over your burning skin, lapping where Diego just hit. Holy shit. He sees your face, watches your jaw drop open and your eyes widen. Diego smiles darkly with his next command, "Lick Princess, Laylah. Lick her ass while I wreck this pretty little pussy."

Is she seriously going t-- "Ahhhhh!" Your surprised yell melts into mindless pleasure as Laylah does exactly what she was told. Her soft tongue glides between your cheeks to pass wetly over your hole. Over and over, Laylah licks you softly in counterpoint to Diego's rough thrusting. "I can't- fuck, its. Oh, oh my god. Please, please- I'm gonna come. Please, Dieg-" your broken babbling shorts out along with your brain. Everything fades away until all you know is crushing pleasure.

There's a dull roar below you, its just audible over the wind in your ears. Someone is rubbing your back. A searing heat deep in your belly makes you whimper. Its dark and quiet very suddenly. You feel like you're floating in water, slowly rising to the surface until you can see light and hear your name being called like distant thunder.

"Bicki, look. Mirame, Princess. There, there she is." Diego's quiet rasp is relieved. You look around briefly, cataloging your surroundings. Diego is sitting up against the arm of the chaise with you cradled in his lap. Your head is pressed into his shoulder but one solid hand is holding you upright so he can watch your face. The concern in those brown eyes is gratifying, whatever happened Diego is glad you're alright. The soft silk throw is draped over you like a cape. 

Laylah is in the corner of the chaise beside him, eyes huge but lips curled up in a grin. "You okay, Princess? I've never seen a man fuck a girl so good she blacks out. That's just impressive." Her hazel eyes sparkle with amusement. She lounges there fully nude with no self-consciousness.

You wave your hand lazily in her direction with a sigh, "Don't. Do not. His ego, please no." Your eyes close in slight embarrassment and you hide your grin in his neck. Diego purrs smugly.

"Oh, please yes. Tell me how I fucked two women into lazy heaps of satisfaction in one fell swoop. Go on then." Diego rumbles into your curls. "I want to hear all the ways you're going to thank me." His rough voice is dripping with pride.

You slap him in the middle of his chest. "Maybe later, when you can actually do something about it." You chuckle. Turning your head, you kiss his stubbled cheek sweetly, then lick him just to be rude. Diego only laughs and pulls you closer.

Laylah's laugh is crackly, her deep voice more hoarse than normal. "You two are ridiculously adorable." She smiles softly, the warmth of it goes all the way to her eyes. "Not to be presumptuous, but I would really enjoy doing this on a sorta regular basis. Not on a payroll." Here she gestures to Diego minutely, then turns to you with a darker look, Hungry, your mind supplies. She holds your gaze levelly as she elaborates, "I really like you. I want to be your friend. I mean, with benefits is obviously the dream, but you know. I had a great time tonight." All three of you laugh.

"I like that idea." You hear yourself answering. Diego looks down his nose at you in mild surprise. 

"You do?" He looks cautiously hopeful. 

"Yeah? I like having… friends?" You give him a confused look. "Is that not what you wanted?" You're not sure if you should be slightly offended or not. Sometimes there are cultural miscommunications and you always try to keep that in the back of your mind.

Diego's smile is slow and wide. "That is exactly what I would like Princess." His forehead comes down to yours and you smile goofily. You are exceedingly happy that Diego cares so much that he put effort into trying to bring you more companionship, that he paid enough attention to notice that you and Laylah connected, that she pleased you and he wanted that for you.

So you exchange numbers, you laugh with your friend, and when Laylah leaves early the next morning you're exhausted with fullness. Yeah, you have a best friend, but everything else is just acquaintances. This new thing is some weird messy not-disaster that you somehow aren't worried about. 

You're sitting on the bed, staring into space when Diego waltzes out of the bathroom completely naked. Hello. He leans down over you, both big hands bracketing your hips, to crack your heart open just a tiny bit more by proclaiming, "I can still smell her and she is not you. Come shower with me so I can smell like you again." Diego kisses your forehead then returns to the bathroom and the running shower with complete trust that you're right behind him.

You realize that you have complete trust to follow him. You trust him with so many things. You trust Diego with your heart.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten Twice Stupid prt 90

90

“Whoop. Hold up. I’ve lost my chicken fillet again”

“That’s because you keep playing with them”

Sighing at Allura, Lance didn’t know how people controlled their boobs. The fake silicone insert in his bra kept trying to escape off to the side every chance it got

“I’m not trying to play with them, they’re the ones playing with me”

Allura giggled, slipping her arm around his and taking him by the hand

“Just leave them alone. It’ll be alright once we’re sitting down”

“You’re enjoying this far too much”

“Maybe a little. Now please don’t trip”

Having come up to Platt again on the Tuesday, Lance caught up with Allura. He’d wanted to go home that Monday night, so they’d arranged to go shopping together the next day, at smaller shopping centre. Explaining he didn’t know what to wear, Allura delighted in the idea of dressing him up. They could have been twins by the end of it... or somewhat related due to fashion sense. Lance was wearing a long brown wig, brown contacts, and possibly the worst bra ever invented beneath his red dress... that he hadn’t wanted to wear at all. He was a guy... He’d wanted to look manly and shit. Maybe androgynous if he could pull it off? Allura fully jumped on board a complete change in look, Lance’s feet were now crammed into gold high heeled shoes and a dress that aired his junk with each step. His black tiny lace short covered junk that he wasn’t allowed to wear boxers over. At least his bum was covered. One strong breeze and he’d be done for indecent exposure. With the plunging front of the red dress, the bra he had to wear was weirdly shaped tripping down in kind of a U shape, as if the designer had never seen a bra before or didn’t know how the hell they functioned. He’d also been waxed, trimmed, plucked, and “pierced”. Forget laying in the ground for three months, this was the most uncomfortable he’d ever been. The damn fake gold septum piercing was annoying, he kept going cross eyed trying to look at it.

Allura, on the other hand was gorgeous. Her normal long loose white ringlets swapped for a wig very similar to Lance’s. Dressed in a black and red pinstripe skirted suit, she dripped refinement and class. Her accessories all gold, a tasteful dainty little wristwatch on her left wrist, small ruby drop earrings, a gold clutch, and brown contact lenses like Lance’s. None of their friends would have recognised the pair of them... The only one maybe recognisable was Keith, who Lance was trying his hardest not to look at.

Keith... It should be illegal to ooze sex appeal like his boyfriend was. Dressed like the bad boy everyone’s parents warned them about, he looked so damn good in those leather pants that Lance wanted to send him home to change. Muzzled, and on lead, Keith stayed half a step behind Lance and Allura. His boyfriend seemed to be in a mood, his eyes had gone wide at Lance’s ensemble, but that’d been it. He hadn’t commented. They most he’d talked was as Lance adjusted his muzzle and collar to make sure Keith was as comfortable as possible. God only knew how much Lance wanted Keith to bend him over the closest counter and pull his hair... Having a hot boyfriend was hard. Lance knew he didn’t look atrocious as he was. His moves kind of jolted thanks to the stilettos he couldn’t quite operate. On the plus side, if things went south, he was sure his shoes were sharp enough to murder someone touching his boyfriend. He pulled off looking like a girl, which should be a win, and Coran had doused him in perfume to help the natural sweetness in his scent.

Heading over to the bar, the vampire behind the counter had no issues with his teeth and ego hanging out for the world to see. Lance felt nothing for him, which was nice. There were so many scents that something had stuck up his nose and now he worried he was going to pop a semi thanks to a stranger

“Haven’t seen you two around...”

Lance showed his teeth, reminding himself he was supposed to let go of his ego

“We don’t usually like to take our pet out to play, he doesn’t play well with others”

The vampire nodded

“Harder and harder to find a good pet these days. In the market for a new one?”

“Reminding him how lucky he is to be our pet”

“Sometimes they need to be taught the good old fashioned way. What are you drinking?”

“Two Rivata Cassa Rossa. One half and half with A positive. Nothing for the pet”

The vampire nodded, Lance would have preferred to watch the drinks poured, but he didn’t intend on drinking them anyway

“Alright. Take a seat, they’ll be brought over”

Allura picked a booth close to the door so they could people watch, Lance pulling Keith into his lap, possessively resting his hand on the top of Keith’s head. He hated having to talk about Keith that way. Sliding his free hand down, he rested it over Keith’s inner thigh, clearly staking this claim over his boyfriend

“This is nicer than I imagined”

The club wasn’t what Lance imagined either. It kind of reminded him of the speakeasys you’d see in films, other than the electronic music and strobe lighting over dance-floor. Vampire and pets danced, some feeding in their pet as they did. Some other vampires had left their pets to sit on the ground and await their return, a couple of pets sat huddled together in one or two booths. Lance kind of wanted to channel Keith’s bad boy energy and free the pets. Though most pets didn’t have anything in their name or a way to survive without their masters. It was shit. They were fucking people who deserved better. Fucking vampires.

“It’s not what I expected. Do we have any idea what we’re here for?”

Allura shook her head. Stupid Lotor could have given them a heads up

“No. You know, I can’t remember the last time I was in a place like this”

“Does that mean you want to dance?”

Allura giggled, then sobered

“Not quite yet. I’m not sure we should leave our pet alone”

Everyone was listening to everyone else. That’s how these things worked

“If he behaves himself, I might allow him to accompany us. He needs to learn some manners first”

Keith huffed, Lance wished he could take the muzzle off so they could talk properly. Feeling eyes on him, he leaned in, nipping lightly at the top of Keith’s ear, hand sliding closer to Keith’s junk. Keith was his. He felt like he was degrading him, but he had to make sure everyone knew he wasn’t sharing

“I’m sorry”

Whispering it right next to Keith’s ear, he hoped his boyfriend heard. He’d felt so damn stupid about breaking down in Coran’s office that he’d only really talked to Keith in group chat. Matt had tried perking him up when he’d come home, but Lance took himself and his wallowing up to his room, replaying the day in an attempt to reassure himself that Keith hadn’t become anyone’s target. As their drinks were placed down in front of them, Lance broke rules. Other pets had their muzzles loosened, and Keith shouldn’t be punished thanks to their fucked up society. Loosening the front buckles of the muzzle, his boyfriend sucked in a shaky breath, not sure what it was about

“Master?”

A shudder ran through Lance. Keith had to call him that, and his ego approved too much

“You’re my pet. If anyone objects I will remind them I am in control here... plus, it’s stuffy”

“A bit...”

Keith couldn’t talk freely and it sucked. Allura picked up her glass of red wine, grimacing as she took a sip

“I think I’ve got yours instead”

“Swap them over then. I really should have had the first sip, you know”

Allura quirked an eyebrow, moving deliberately as she swapped wine glasses

“Ego?”

“No. Just better at dealing with it if it’s spiked...”

“Ah”

Pretty much. Allura was fae but he didn’t know how that worked. If anything was in there he would be able to taste it. Pulling Keith’s hood up, Lance then moved to lift his glass, his arm around his boyfriend’s waist

“I guess we wait now”

“I’d say so. I wonder what’s going to happen”

When nothing happened after the first half hour, Lance got bored. Allura was doing a good job hiding her boredom, much better than him and Keith. Keith was all squirmy in his lap

“Do you want to sit beside me instead? Or on the floor?”

“It’s hot, master”

“Laura, would you please get our pet a bottle of water? Number two is thirsty”

Allura nodded, sliding from the booth. “Laura” adapted from “‘Lura”. He was “Lana” adapted from Lance... They weren’t terribly creative with names, but easy names were easy to remember. He wasn’t risking Keith by calling him anything close to Keith... and he was a pet... so he was allowed to refer to Keith in such a way... his stupid ego was enjoying itself more than he was. And Keith really didn’t have to keep squirming the way he did. He was basically right up against Lance’s junk... and Lance’s junk knew it

“Sit next to me”

Keith slid from his lap, Lance moving the split in his dress to act like he had some modesty left. Returning with the bottle of water, Allura nearly messed up by going to hand it to Keith. Taking the bottle, Lance twisted the cap off, taking the first mouthful. It didn’t taste tainted. Taking a second mouthful, he pushed his lips against Keith’s, Keith hesitant before accepting, drinking down the offered water. Other vampires and their pets were watching, Lance pulling back to take a second sip, before pushing his lips back against Keith’s. Kissing Keith like this wasn’t common in the club. Someone would have kicked up a fuss if it didn’t risk losing face

“More?”

Keith shook his head, Allura looked ready to gush over them being cute

“In that case you can come dance with us”

Lance got lost in the feeling on the dance floor. He’d loved to dance. He hadn’t had reason to in so long, and it wasn’t something he often talked about, plus he was generally feeling too old and modern music was horrific. Going out to human clubs was better, where he’d dance stupidly with Hunk and Pidge and it was totally fine because they were all as bad as each other and it didn’t matter if he tripped over his own feet. Dancing with Allura, Allura was stiff but she tried. Dance with Keith... Lance wanted to smack him with a piece of wood and tell him to move. Putting his boyfriend’s hands on his hips, he leaned back into Keith’s touch, Allura slinging her arms over their shoulders, leaving him sandwiched between the pair of them, Keith nosing at his neck and Lance hoping his hands wouldn’t wander from his hips.

*

They were still dancing, thanks to half a dozen trips to the bar, when they finally found out what Lotor had sent them there for. Moving from rubbing up against Keith, they’d moved to dancing in a group. Keith had been groped, the vampire snarled at by Lance, fangs showing and nails extending as he let his ego flow. Pulling Keith against him, Lance wrapped his hand around the collar. He knew his scent was coming through the stink of the perfume, because Keith’s hands had been all over his body once his boyfriend finally loosened up. Dancing in a group cooled those feelings, Lance listening to the chatter around them as he alternated between dancing with Keith, and dancing with Allura, and laughing over Allura trying to dance with Keith. Territory stuff and other things he didn’t care for. There was some fighting in the lower ranks. Some of the upper ranks were having trouble keeping face with Lotor around. A lot of general dislike for man. Talk about werewolves causing issues. All this gossip was what Lance thought they were there for... Until Sendak entered the club.

Sendak didn’t do subtle. His scent dropped Lance’s knees out from under him. Within the space of a few moments he’d gone form spinning a laughing Allura, to falling into Keith’s arms. He wasn’t the only one affected. A few other vampires dropped, pets pulled down with them. Other vampires flared their ego. Lance’s ego felt like a pulse. A distinct thudding through his body. Lowering his head in submission, the heel of Lance’s right stiletto snapped, as Keith tried to stand him up, leaving him kneeling on the dance floor. Sendak seemed impossibly massive. Towering so tall he seemed to touch the ceiling. Dressed in a crisp black suit, he wore fur cloak that was fresh out a fantasy movie fastening at the base of his neck. The fur was real, a mottled of greys, blacks and browns tumbling down to Sendak’s booted feet. The vampire didn’t even look the direction of the dance floor as he crossed the space between the front door and a booth towards the back on the right side of the club. Holy fucking shit was his aura strong. Lance instantly sure he was the oldest vampire he’d ever met, or come across. What the fuck was he doing here?!? No one would be game enough to cross him. They all felt like ants under a microscope with Sendak being the heated ray of light threatening to burn them alive if they wandered into his path. Clenching his jaw, the amount of pressure Lance used was hurting his teeth. He was fucking kneeling like a bitch for Sendak.

Shaking her head, Allura seemed to shake herself free of the oppressive atmosphere, before moving to take Lance by the arm, pulling him up to stand properly. Both Allura and Keith were trying to get his attention, but Lance couldn’t focus. Sendak scared the ever living absolute fuck out of him. If he was this bad, he couldn’t begin to imagine Zarkon. Blood hung on the air, dancing threw the air like dust particles, following Sendak’s path. Folding himself to sit, the vampire sat with a hunch, the only sign of weakness he’d shown. This was a man used to taking orders from someone “higher” than him.

Slowly things like the music and the shifting lights finally began to come back to him. His heart beat thudding louder than everything else, and would be for some time. The music might as well be a whisper for all it was worth. How the hell did the Blades think they could kill Sendak? He’d be able to tear a wolf apart with his bare hands... Keith wouldn’t stand a chance. It’d be like him at the hands of Nyma and Rolo. Keith would be the little kid who wasn’t nothing but a bit of strings free fun. Tapping his face, Allura tried to draw his attention, but Lance had no attention left to be drawn. He felt so fucking scared. His body seemed to be getting colder. He couldn’t stand. He couldn’t feel Keith against him... even the pain in his feet had fled in the face of Sendak. Cupping his face in her hands, warmth crept across his skin from Allura’s palms as Lance shivered violently

“We’re leaving. Pet, help your master”

[e1ana]

Character asks-- gimme Hotoshi Shinsou, if you haven't already, and Hanta Sero if you have please!

omg these two are the absoLUTE homies. you asked at the wrong time though, because i am smacked as all hell and my eyes are about as wide as a piece of paper. ill try my best to form coherent thought lol.

for shinsou:

favorite thing about him: this is really fuckin hard because he’s honestly one of my favorite characters. if i HAVEEEEEEEE to pick than probably just his general spirit. he obviously has a can do attitude, with the way he thinks he can become a hero, but he isn’t so like in everyone’s face about it. just because he’s a positive(ish) person, he’s not an extrovert or anything remotely close to it. he’s allowed to be a chill dude. i just love his vibe.

least favorite thing about him: i don’t like his attitude towards other people. i’m not saying it isn’t justified because of the tiny glimpse we got of his being bullied. i’m also kind of an ass so i can’t talk. i just wish he wasn’t such a cold person. i think spending more time with new friends will help him thaw out his dead heart though.

favorite line: "Maybe I failed this time, but... I'm not giving up. I'll show them I've got what it takes to make the hero course, and I'll become a greater hero than all of you." (basic, i know.)

brOTP: i love him and midoriya. i just think its another great example of a friendship between two people of contrasting personalities. i also wanna see more interaction between him and ojiro and the bakusquad in general. i think their dynamics together are pretty funny.

OTP: OH BOY DO I LOVE SHINKAMI. now don’t get me wrong. i am a massive multishipper. i love me some good old monoshin, and i like kaminari with other pp as well. but fuck, there’s just something about shinkami that hits so DIFFERENT. i don’t know, i just love them a lot.

nOTP: i don’t really have a lot of nOTPs. obviously i hate the illegal shit (shinsou x aizawa?? what the fuck???), but there’s not that many shinsou ships to begin with. i guess just anyone i can’t really see him with - maybe todoroki.

random hc: this boy definitely has sleeping problems. coming from a bitch who literally has Birkin x Tanaka level eye bags, i can say those puppies are not for show.

unpopular opinion: this isn’t that unpopular, but i think he’s probably going to be in 1b, not 1a. while i would lOVE to see him more frequently, he is still high key irrelevant to the plot. his moment (or his first moment at least) is getting into the hero course period. maybe he’ll be more involved later, and i hope so, but i really just dont think he’s gonna be with the hell class :(

song i associate with them: i have an entire playlist for him. for real. so this song question... not easy. if i have to pick one, maybe Loser by McCafferty (but here’s the whole playlist, if you want to listen to some punk-ish bangers.)

favorite picture of them: i don’t have assess to the full, glorious library that is the manga because i’m on my computer, but this one is pretty great. he just looks so... lost. like by is he staring so intently at the scarf? did it bite him or something?

okay. i’ll put the homie sero’s under the cut becuase this is getting insanely long.

serooooo omg the mf og. i feel like we would get along so well. i bully him a lot, but he really is one of my favorite characters. anyways. also i am 110% going to write shinsou in here by accident.

favorite thing about him: he’s just... sero. he’s a little shithead. he’s annoying, but he’s also weirdly chill. he literally smiles like :D. he’s dumb. he looks like a fucking TAPE DISPENSER??? i want to give him the worlds biggest hug.

least favorite thing about him: so underrated...holy shit... i have met like two sero stans, and that is not okay with me.

favorite line: “Hey, something amazing happened, listen to this! It’s r-18 ;)” i let out an entrire GUFFAW when this happened. and then he just exposes midoriya for being next to the hot, naked mystery chick.

brOTP: you already know i’m going to say the bakusquad. the way the interact with each other is lit rally a+. i love how close they are and i really hope we get more bakusquad moments.

OTP: I’ve very (very(VEry) recently gotten into both SeroRoki and KamiSero. I also think the would low key look good with someone like kinoko komori, but that’s just for the looks. i think little short mushroom lady with lanky, string bean tape boy is cute.

nOTP: anyone that’s also got that lowkey vibe, or anyone who’s super over the top sweet and girly. i just don’t see him having the patience to either one make negotiations because nobody can decide, or two being able to deal with a crazy affectionate, pet-name calling, daily-date-having, always-on person.

random hc: he smokes weed. period. this is like one of my only hcs that i feel strongly about. i am a stoner, i know by brethren. there is ZERO way that fuckhead does not smoke pot.

unpopular opinion: his quirk is stupid. like cmon, tAPE ELBOWS??? uh honey what the fuck??? he makes good use of them though i guess. i think the quirk is stupid, not his use of it.

song i associate with them: any meme song. tiktok songs too. i also just so haaappennn to have another playlist with him. seriously, i was hyperfocusing on this the other day and made playlists for a shit ton of bnha people. anyways, here. literally anything off that. 

favorite picture of them: look at him. look at his little >_< face. appreciate him.

that does it i guess. fair warning to anyone who sends any of these in the next hot minute: they are all 100% going to be this chaotic because like i said, i a m doped up, smacked, zooted, zoinked, stoned, clapped.... you get it. 

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 13:

“And I had a fear of forgiveness

(Said it from the beginning)

I was too proud to say I was wrong

(Said you'd always see me through)

All that time is gone, no more fearing control

I'm ready for the both of us now

But just know that I want you back

Just know that I want you back

Just know that I want you

I'll take the fall and the fault in us

I'll give you all the love I never gave before I left you”

-- Want You Back, HAIM

__________

“Wow.” 

Penelope’s eyes pop open at the sound of Hope’s voice. She sits up and cranes her neck backward just in time to spot Hope climbing through the attic window. 

“Wow?” Penelope asks. She stretches her arms and then cracks her neck from side to side. Falling asleep on the roof hadn’t been her original game plan. No. Far from it. 

But after aimlessly wandering the halls of the school for an hour or so, Penelope had somehow wound up in the one place where she knew she could find a little bit of peace and solitude. And once there, she found that she merely lacked the energy to go anywhere else. So Penelope gave up her fight against the ever-mounting exhaustion of the last few days, curled up with a leftover blanket and closed her eyes.

“Wow,” Hope echoes back and takes a seat next to Penelope.

“So I’m taking it that ‘wow’ is in response to you having read the copy of the journal I left for you?”

Hope nods. “Twice. Cover to cover.”

“Impressive.”

“Had some help with a Celeritas charm, but yeah… I read it twice.”

“And?” Penelope asks with a quirk of her brow.

“And… Wow.”

“You said that already,” Penelope responds.

“I know.” Hope exhales a long breath of air allowing a brief silence to fall between them. “I just… I just don’t know where to start.”

“Fair enough. It’s kinda a lot to process.”

“Kinda?”

Penelope can’t help but let a hint of a smile slip through at these words. “Okay. It’s a shit ton to process. Better?”

“Yes,” Hope replies, matching Penelope’s smile with one of her own. “Did we really take on a pack of rabid werewolves in the middle of the Louvre?”

“Technically it was in the courtyard of the Louvre, but yup... We did. Got a wicked scar behind my left from that one.”

“And Milan?”

“100% true too. It took a good three months for my left eyebrow to grow back but it all happened. Every last fiery moment of it.”

“Caroline’s really a badass, huh?”

“Badass doesn’t even begin to describe it. She’s the reason we survived Milan… and about a million and one other attacks too,” Penelope replies with an underlying bittersweet tone to her voice. 

“Do you miss her?” 

Penelope laughs as if the answer should be obvious. “More than I thought I would. But, weirdly enough, I have this gut feeling that I’ll see her again soon. Like either, I’ll just wind up on her doorstep again one day or she’ll just up and hunt me down. If that makes sense.”

Hope nods with a silent understanding. They sit side by sit for a moment or two, just existing in each other’s presence and the —

“Would it be strange if I said that I’m kinda jealous of my other self?”

“Jealous?” Penelope asks not fully following the Tribrid’s train of thought.

“Maybe jealous isn’t the right word.” Hope exhales and runs her hair over her ponytail. “More like envious? I don’t know… Reading about all those insane things we did, I couldn’t help but wish that I had gotten to experience them firsthand, you know?” 

“Who says they still can’t happen?”

Hope straightens up a bit at these words. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if the journal doesn’t work and history ends up repeating itself then my ass is going to be on the first flight I can grab to Belgium. And, as you already read, I can’t do it alone, so…”

“Are you asking me to go to Belgium with you, Penelope Park?” Hope asks.

Penelope instantly feels her cheeks redden and she shakes her head, in an attempt to downplay the significance of the moment. “No… I just meant… If things don’t…” 

Hope gives Penelope a playful nudge. “Count me in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Of course,” Hope replies. “Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me, Park. So if you’re going to Belgium, then I am too… Especially if it means I get to wield a crossbow.”

“Deal.”

“Good.” Hope lets out a light laugh and leans her shoulder into Penelope’s. It’s a small gesture, but one that Penelope can’t help but find comforting nonetheless. It’s as if by reading the journal, Hope has somehow become yet even more infused with Penelope’s Hope than ever before. Almost to the point where distinguishing between the two is practically impossible.

“So you gave a copy of the journal to Josie, right?” Hope asks, breaking the silence once again.

“Yup. Hand-delivered it to Lizzie roughly three hours ago.” Penelope replies with a yawn.

“Wait…” Hope whips her head around and locks eyes with Penelope. A noticeable look of sheer horror washes over her face. “You gave the journal to Lizzie?!”

Penelope nods. “Yeah. I went to their dorm room and she’s the one that answered the door, so I--”

“Fuck,” Hope says, cutting Penelope off. She runs her hands over her auburn ponytail, trying her best to keep her ever-rising anxiety at bay. “What if she reads it?”

“So?”

“So? Do you know what’s in there?”

Penelope doesn’t mean to, but she lets out a laugh. “I would hope I know what’s in there. I mean I did live it… Besides, it’s not like Lizzie wasn’t going to find out one way or another.”

“Finding out second-hand tidbits from Josie and reading it word for word are two very different things, Park” Hope fires back. “Oh god, Madrid… Madrid is in there! How am I going to explain Madrid?”

“Breathe, Mikaelson,” Penelope responds with an underlying reassurance to her voice. “Josie’s going to read about Madrid as well, so you’re not the only one that’s going to have some major explaining to do.”

“Right…”

Another momentary silence falls between the two of them as they watch the first rays of the morning sun peek out from the horizon, then—

“So how long do you think it’ll take before Lizzie and Josie hunt you down?” 

Penelope shrugs. “Depends…” 

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on if they cheated like you did and used a Celeritas charm or not,” Penelope replies with a bit of a smirk.

“For the record, I didn’t cheat.” 

“Whatever you say, Furball.”

“I didn’t.” Hope crosses her arms in mild annoyance. “It was 800 pages. It would’ve taken me at least half a day to read it without any help.”

“Only half a day?” Penelope questions and Hope answers with a harder than usual knock to her shoulder.

“Hey! For the record, I--” Hope trails off as something in the distance catches her attention. She slowly rises to her feet as her face transforms into a look of pure and utter concern. 

“Hope?” Penelope asks. Her eyes follow Hope’s and instantly spots tiny black specks moving along the treeline at the edge of the forest.

“Is that…” 

“Yeah… Shit! It’s too soon. Triad isn’t supposed to be here for at least another few hours,” Penelope responds. She runs her hands through her messy raven locks as her mind begins to race. 

She ought to be prepared, but...

But there is no preparation. Not for what’s about to transpire.

“What do we do?” Hope asks, pulling her eyes away from the rapidly approaching tactical swat team and locking them in on Penelope. 

Penelope bites down on her bottom lips for a moment or two and then--

“C’mon… I’ve got an idea.”

__________

“Where are we going again?” Hope asks as she races to keep up the pace with Penelope. The two zig-zag their way through the chaotic sea of confused and panicked students, trying to get down the main staircase without taking anyone out in the process.

In the short matter of time from when they first spotted of Triad to them reaching the main entranceway, the whole school seemingly has been made aware of the incoming attack. 

It’s as if by magic… Or some divine intervention… Or maybe a hybrid of both. Penelope doesn’t have the time nor the energy to decipher who exactly alerted the whole school but is beyond thankful nonetheless. 

“To the basement. Long story, but there’s an anti-magic relic down there that needs to be destroyed and fast. If Triad reaches it first, then they will activate it and we’ll be powerless,” Penelope responds.

“Wait? Why is it down there in the first place?”

“I’ll give you one guess… He’s your pseudo sensei.” 

“Alric?”

“Bingo,” Penelope replies with a huff. 

“Why would he…”

“No time for explanations now.” Penelope and Hope reach the first-floor landing and start to round the corner. “I promise, I’ll--”

“Hope Marie Mikaelson!”

Lizzie’s voice slices through the steady sounds of the ongoing movement causing both Penelope and Hope to freeze dead in their tracks. They slowly turn around just in time to spot the blonde-haired siphoner marching towards them.

“Shit,” Penelope says under her breath. “Liz, this is the best time to--”

“Not now, Satan,” Lizzie cuts Penelope off as she closes the rest of the distance between herself and the two of them. She stops just inches in front of Hope, locking eyes with the Tribrid, and then, without any warning whatsoever, grabs hold of Hope’s cheeks and plants a kiss that is nothing short of life-changing upon her lips. 

Hope’s eyes widen with pure, unexpected shock. She tenses for a split second, unsure of how to react, before giving in to her instincts. Hope threads her hands through Lizzie’s platinum blonde hair, deepening their kiss as she does. This is a moment both Hope and Lizzie have been waiting for since the first time they laid eyes on one another.

And Penelope can’t help but smirk in satisfaction as she watches her best friend fall even harder than ever before in love with Lizzie Saltzman. It’s a moment she’s been secretly waiting to see play out ever since traveling back in time. 

Finally, Hope pulls back out of the kiss and smiles. “That was--.”

“Amazing,” Lizzie finishes Hope’s sentence with an exhale of air. Her face lights up as well, unable to take her eyes off of Hope.

“Yeah… That,” Hope responds still not fully recovered from the sheer shock of the kiss. 

“Ahem.” Penelope clears her throat subtly reminding them of her presence. “As much as I love seeing you two finally come to your senses and all, we’ve got more pressing matters to attend to.” 

“Satan’s right,” Lizzie chimes in causing yet another wave of shock to wash over Hope. “Josie went to go see if she could go track down that relic you mentioned in the journal in our dad’s office while I tracked you two down. We were going to set-up a protection barrier so those gun-toting freaks couldn’t bust in but we couldn’t siphon anything off of the walls.”

“Shit. That means Triad got to the relic,” Penelope replies with a huff of frustration.

“You read the whole journal?” Hope asks Lizzie, eyes growing even wider than ever before.

“Yes. Three times,” Lizzie responds without missing a beat. “And we’ll discuss Madrid later… And the nipple piercings.” 

And Hope just nods, still unable to find her words. 

“What relic?” Lizzie asks, turning her attention back towards Penelope.

“It’s some anti-magic relic that your dad has stashed in the basement. It’s been activated. That’s why you can’t siphon. We need to go destroy it asap in order to get our powers back.” 

“I know a back way into the basement so we can slip in without being detected.”  

“Good.” Penelope pauses for a moment and runs her hands through her raven locks, trying to dispel her growing sense of dread. 

Josie is already in Alric’s office. 

Alone. 

Unprotected.

It’s too close… Way too close for Penelope’s liking.

All it will take is for the wrong member of Triad to show up and--

“I’ll take Hope and we’ll handle the relic. You should go help Josie,” Lizzie says, almost reading Penelope’s thoughts. 

“But--”

“Go, Penelope.” And suddenly there’s a flash of an oddly reassuring look deep within Lizzie’s icy blue eyes. As if to say that on some level or another she gets it. 

“Okay,” Penelope says with a nod. 

“We’ll meet you there when we’re done.” Lizzie takes hold of Hope’s hand and then starts to drag the still dazed Tribrid back through the crowd of fleeing students. She gets all of three steps, though, before stopping once again to look back at Penelope. “Oh, and Park… If you let my sister get shot again, I’ll kill you myself.” 

“Got it.”

Lizzie gives Penelope a smile and then without another moment wasted, disappears into the sea of chaos with Hope trailing right behind her.

__________

Penelope makes it to Alric’s office in record time. She isn’t sure exactly how she manages to do it, but she’s there nonetheless in less than three minutes flat. 

There isn’t a Triad in sight and yet… 

Penelope wraps her hand around the door handle and takes a deep, sobering breath as her ears pick up on the unusual stillness of her surroundings. 

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

There aren’t even the muffled sounds of movement coming from the other side of the door.

Why is it so quiet?

Fear begins to bubble up in the back of Penelope’s throat and she fights the urge to scream out Josie’s name.

Is she too late? 

Has Triad already been here?

Penelope scans the hallway once again for signs-- any signs-- that the black fatigue clad operatives are nearby. But there’s nothing.

Nothing but the stillness.

Penelope takes a moment to swallow down the dry lump of long-repressed emotions and then with all the courage she can muster, she pushes open the office door. 

“Jo--” 

But before Penelope can finish uttering Josie’s name, she feels an object collide with the back of her skull, followed by a sharp pang of blinding pain, and then--

Blackness.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 26: High Score - This Is Not In Vain Chap.2: Look In Vein

Just how does he stack up?

After a bit they all separate, Danny looking around and rubbing his neck a bit awkwardly, “so I’m guessing you’re not too upset with me? Or freaked out?”.

Jack pats Danny’s shoulder as he sits down in one of the chairs, “that was very weird yes. But that’s normal for Fenton’s!”, throwing his hands out to the side slightly, “and you have powers! The flying was really cool! Everything was so small!”.

Maddie nods at Jack but worries her lip and looks at Danny, “it seems like you...get hurt a lot”, cupping the side of his face and visually inspecting his nose, “how do you even forget broken bones sweetie? And I’m not sure whether to be happy or bothered that you did a good job setting your nose”.

Danny chuckles and rubs over the bridge of his nose, which Maddie cringes at slightly but tilts her head, “it’s...healed”.

Danny drops his hand and gives a little nod, “yeah, um, I heal quick”, looking to his dad, “and yeah dad, flying’s great. It’s, well, it’s one of my favourite things”.

Jack grins wide at that, which Danny tilts his head over, “are you guys okay? that I like my, um, abilities? That I have them?”, shrugging and looking at the floor slightly, “I lied to you guys. For, like, a long time”.

At this they both promptly hug him again. Jack rubbing his back a bit, “son, Danny-boy, we’ve already decided we accept it. So long as you like it and accept it”.

Maddie nods as they pull back, “even if it’s quite strange and we have no clue how it’s possible. Though if I’m honest sweetie, it does seem rather wrong, you’re not a ghost”.

Danny frowns and looks away, nodding a little, “yeah I kind of figured. Ghost stuff, you don’t exactly like them”.

Jack clears his throat, “about that...That puppy really was a lot like a normal puppy! And Tucker said you actually have lots of ghost friends! And well, you wouldn’t be friendly with monsters. So we don’t know what to think on that”.

Danny blinks and looks at his dad wide-eyed, “he did what?!? Tuck”, Danny shakes his head, “I guess I did sort of tell you the same though. And his name’s Cujo, Dad”.

Jack blushes a bit at that but nods. Maddie decides to sit down too, so that Danny’s looking down at both of them, at least a little, hoping it makes him more open, “why though?“.

Danny rolls his eyes, “why not? They’re the same as humans, just with powers and more varied bodies”.

Maddie sighs, “I don’t know Danny. But you seem to be doing fine, skilled actually, so that’s your choice to make. We can support you without loving everything you do right?”.

Danny rubs his neck and gives a weak smile, “I mean, I guess? And yeah I’ve been getting into fights like that for a while”, glaring at the air slightly, “Walker’s one of few I actually hate. He also hates me”, shrugging, “mutualistic I guess”.

Maddie and Jack share a look, Jack patting Danny’s shoulder slightly, “we definitely don’t like him either. But about that, what did he mean by ‘half creature’? That sounds like an insult”.

Maddie nods and makes a point to smile slightly, “Tucker mention halfa, I know you didn’t really answer us when we asked about that, but you didn’t know it was us at that point”.

Danny sighs, “yeah that’s an insult dad. The whole halfa thing is part of why he hates me. And, um, I’m called that because of the powers and stuff, while still being, you know, alive”.

Both parents nod, it did make sense. It meant he was a bit ghostly. Maddie touches Danny chest lightly, “I’m guessing having a core makes you able to handle all the ectoplasm in you. There’s an awful lot more than we thought”.

“Heh heh, yeah and thanks for leaving that alone after the initial discovery, or whatever, of it. Core’s are kind of...sensitive”.

Both nod rapidly, Maddie speaking, “as soon as you mentioned it could freeze you over we made sure to leave it alone. Can it really do that?”.

Danny nods and rubs his chest slightly, “oh yeah it can. Pretty sure it nearly killed me. I have to use up its ecto-energy or it’ll freeze me basically”, Danny makes a fist and then opens it, revealing a little ice flower. Twirling it in his fingers and making more pelts form on it till it’s rather large.

Maddie takes it gingerly and spins it nothing ‘wow’, because it was incredibly pretty. Still so off that he could just make ecto-ice but not so bad.

Jack smiles, “you’re good at that! Guess you’d have to be! Seems like a strong power!”, tilting his head and glancing around the lab, “think we could see just how strong?”.

“I’m not turning the lab into an ice rink dad”, making everyone laugh a little.

Jack shakes his head with a smile after a bit, “I mean a meter reader Danny-boy. See just how much icy energy you can put out”.

Danny looks around and rubs his neck, “I dunno, I mean, I uh, um, okay, I am totally curious about that myself. But, like, your guys stuff, you know, saves the data and that would have been awkward. Though I mean, I have totally had Tuck use radar guns on me, you know, speed and that. Flying. Yeah”, shrugging, “doesn’t really matter now I guess. So I um, yeah. Okay”.

Maddie scrunches up her eyebrows, “is that a yes sweetie?”.

Jack beams and stands, “of course you’re curious! You’re a Fenton!”.

Danny nods at his mom while his dad busies himself finding things, “yeah, yeah it’s a yes”. Maddie gets up and kisses his forehead for that, whispering to him, “thanks for trusting us. We’re, especially Jack, a bit upset over finding out all this the way we did. On accident. We’d rather have you tell us on your own terms and knowing it was us. Even if it took longer”.

Danny smiles warmly at that, making a damn point to not tear up at all, “thanks. That means a lot”. Making a mock disgusted face as she kisses his forehead again. Before Jack comes over with what looks like a tuning fork attached to a big ass battery.

Danny sits down and chuckles a little, as Jack touches it to his chest, “no need to explain how it works. I’m familiar”, making both his parents smile. While Danny pushes his Core’s power at the machine. Thankfully he knew this stuff wouldn’t actually deplete his ectoplasm, none of their inspectors would. Humming a little as the machine beeps.

Jack blinks at the screen, a fair bit stunned, “wow Danny-boy! It’s strong! Strongest we’ve recorded actually!”.

Danny snorts, of course it was, figures. Looking over at the screen, “jeez that’s almost double the second highest?”.

They all look at each other before Jack glances to where all the other inspectors are. Danny, way too curious now, nods with a slight grin.

Maddie quickly clears the little side table before Jack dumps the inspectors on it. Danny chuckles, “you’ve built one for everything at this point. Why don’t you make something that’s universal?”.

Maddie quirks her lip, “we are actually. Just much more difficult”. She knew he never seemed to mind the ‘harmless’ inventions.

Danny dips his head, “logically”, as Jack slides over with an ecto-field reader. Which Danny hovers his arm over, easily feeling when he was close enough for it to be contacting it.

And just like before, way higher than every other reading.

From there it continues on much the same. Thing after thing, reading after reading; Danny’s consistently way higher than every other recorded level or score. This also results in Danny pretty well showing off his powers, being a little awkward about it at first but growing more comfortable at his folks not reacting poorly. He firmly decides against anything a little too weird for now. Duplication, body manipulation, the wail, his ghost form, and overshadowing. Even if overshadowing one of them would be really comedic right now.

Maddie eventually stands in-front of all the readings, it was a bit concerning but also incredibly funny. Danny seems to find it pretty funny for sure. Based on the smirking and snickering. Just the fact that the weirdly high readings were making him a bit more comfortable made her happy though. So it’s okay.

Shaking her head with a smile and looking at Danny, “you, a human, are stronger than every ghost we’ve ever recorded”.

Danny rubs his neck and looks around, before looking back with a slight smile, “Fenton’s and our weird huh?”.

Jack laughs, clapping Danny on the shoulder, “indeed! Ghostly weird is even more suiting! I can just imagine the looks of jealousy, shock, and some rage on the ghosties faces now!”.

Maddie ruffles his hair, and thinking of his skill in battle, “I’d say that most have an idea that you’re very strong. You clearly suspected”.

Danny shrugs, “pretty much yeah”.

Maddie makes a point of giving him a more stern mothering face, “not that I like you fighting on your own. Or that it’s actual fights instead of what we do”.

Danny shrugs, “usually it’s more like sparring. Testing each other’s skill and power sort of thing. A little bit of fun”, frowning, “not Walker though. He’s a prick. Same with Plasmius. Pricks, the both of ‘em”.

Jack raises an eyebrow, “what about that Skulker that you mentioned?”.

Danny tilts his head, “Skulker is kind of unique. What I was talking about back there, with him, his girl was insulting his hunting skills, again, so he decided to prove his skill by hunting me a bit more aggressively, again. Skulker’s basically a ghost hunter. Goes after anything ghostly that’s unique or rare. You know, like me. But he has more respect for strong worthy opponents, so it’s usually sparring between us. Frenemies”.

Jack chuckles, “a ghost who’s a ghost hunter! I’m still going to deck him though”.

Danny smirks, “aim for the head then. Very tiny ghost piloting a Mecha. You shrunk him once and I may have froze him in an ice-cube tray”.

Jack laughs again, “good then! Seems like you might have caught more ghosts than we have! What’s your scoreboard like?”.

Danny tilts his head, “huh?”.

Maddie smiles and ruffles his hair, “surely you keep track of how many you nab, or win against I guess”.

Danny screws up his face, snorts and then starts laughing. Shaking his head, “I gave up on that years ago, after a hundred it felt kind of pointless”, snorting again, “well, okay I keep score of the Box Ghost because it’s ridiculous”. This gets both of them to nod and laugh. All of them having frequently not even bothered to actually catch that one.

Maddie smiles, “I think everyone in town has a scoreboard for that one”.

Jack pokes Danny, hoping the question is obvious and clear. Danny nods, “fifty-two thousand and eighty-nine. Highest in one day was fifty-seven”.

Both cough, definitely startled. Danny was an overachiever.

Maddie smiles mischievously, “fourteen thousand and two”.

Jack smirks, “nine thousand on the nose”. Danny smirks at that.

Eventually, everyone goes up for food. And Maddie, watching Danny eat remembers something. Swallowing her food, “sweetie? Question?”.

“Yeah?”.

“I’m sure I felt fangs earlier. You don’t look to have any though?”.

Danny blushes and shifts a little, no point in not showing them. So he opens his mouth and extends them. Which Maddie goes a bit wide-eyed over. Closing his mouth and licking his tongue over them, “Iz pretty vwell only have them outz in fightz. Kinda hardy to eatz or talkz with them”.

Jack blinks a bit before laughing a little, which Danny blushes more over. Jack patting his shoulder, “I can see why! They’re way too big for your mouth!”.

Danny rubs his neck and chuckles, fangs noticeably still out, “Iz growz into them. Eventuallyz”.

Maddie ruffles his hair some, fangs was creepy and rather wrong to see on him but if he could be okay with it then so could she. Tilting her head a little, “isn’t fang size a bit of a status thing? Like wearing fur or well-tailored suits? Being naturally better looking?”.

Jack nods a bit erratically, “like high cheekbones? Or chiselled jaws?”.

Danny snorts and nods, “yezz, pizzzez Plazmiuzz offz”. Danny licks over his fangs again, having basically butchered Vlad’s last name. But this time even Maddie can’t help but laugh.

End.

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Take Two (part 6)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Part 7: here

Unsurprisingly, trying to stop 'feeling feelings' is easier said than done, leading to more frustration, which in turn results in more lightning. Arthur is practically a sentient ball of electricity,  bits and pieces of himself jumping uncontrollably all over the place, by the time he finally snaps in annoyance, "Can't you do that red-flashy-eye thing."

His voice is weirdly distorted, disembodied. How is he speaking? He doesn't even have a mouth! Not that he had had one before...but still! A wave of static ripples away, breaking against the van walls.

Mystery snorts, /I could, but this is a good learning experience. / All his fur is sticking upright, a response to the static in the air, puffing, giving the dog a rounded appearance. It would be funny if Arthur weren't so aggravated.

"Is this something I really have to learn right now." Shouldn't he first acquaint himself with the whole 'being dead' thing?

/Yes. The quicker you acclimatise, the happier you will be./

"Or…" Arthur retorts, drawing out the word, "how about I not acclimatise. Didn't want to be happy anyway. Problem solved."

Mystery, sitting at the centre of his mini electric infernal, gives him a critical, unimpressed stare over his tiny dog-sized glassed. Arthur thinks it's odd that he knows what Mystery is doing despite now being a collection of sentient, unformed, Arthur particles. He has no eyes. How is he seeing?

/Try clearing your mind. The less you think, the less you will find yourself preoccupied./ Mystery offers like it is that easy, still sitting, unaffected by the increasingly chaotic environment.

"Meditation," Arthur bemoans, disgruntled and growing increasingly stressed, "Why is the answer always meditation?" A lot of the therapists he'd seen recommended meditative activities and he always sucked at them all.

/Everything new is difficult at first. Trust me in this. / Mystery reiterates patiently, /Now. Clear your mind. /

"You know. 'Clearing your mind' is super vague. How is a person just supposed to stop thinking?"  

Mystery, a little exasperated now, is frowning at Arthur like he's missed the answer to a grade-school level question. Around them, the lightning grows increasingly sporadic and pronounced. He knows he is acting stubborn, but these last few minutes have been a rollercoaster of emotion and it's catching up to him all at once. The regret, sadness, fear, and now helpless frustration all mix together into a discordant mess.  The prospect of meeting Lewis again after so long apart, the realisation that this is his reality, dissatisfaction at not being able to do better. It all competes for his attention.  He wants it to stop. Visions of angry, dead, Lewis, flash past and his soul tightens. No. It's not his fault. Mystery said it was a 'parasitic entity.' He should trust Mystery. Doubt gnaws at this thoughts, festering, fluctuating to regret. Purple flame colours all mind.

/This is not going well./ He registers Mystery's offhand remark and doesn't respond. A  renewed wave of regret crashes into him, whipping away his mind.

/Arthur./ Mystery's voice is loud and intense, pulling him back from the haze of cacophonous emotion, /I know you believe that you hold fault for your recent misfortunes and merely telling you otherwise will not change your thoughts on the matter. However, I would like to say, from my own perspective, that you appear to be handling your circumstances remarkably well. Not many humans can say they transversed the currents of time for the simple purpose of saving a friend, while simultaneously keeping their will and sanity./

As far as pep talks go, it kind of sucks. But, it does give Arthur something else to focus on that's not his recent failures or regrets. He forces his attention back onto Mystery, waiting for whatever else he might say. Now, he finds himself too scattered and disembodied to talk, meaning he must remain in silence.

/Obviously, 'clearing the mind' was insufficient instruction./ Mystery states the obvious. /Instead, I would have you focus on a single point and envision yourself standing on said point. When you find your mind wondering to any distressing subject switch to a new position. /

Unbalanced, and now weirdly exhausted, Arthur follows the instruction. He picks a spot in the van and concentrates. Slowly, he pulls himself together. Bit by bit, the lightning condensed in one place, calming now Arthur's no longer fueling it with self-doubt.  It's a slow process which leaves him fatigued and completely done with everything. When he does manage piece himself together and reconstruct something vaguely human-shaped, he finds himself lying flat on his back, staring up at the van's roof. There are multiple darkened patches where it has been hit by the larger bolts of electricity. Everything is heavy like gravity's been dialled up to eleven.

"Why can't I move?" Arthur asks tiredly, trying and failing to shift any of his limbs.  Just when he thinks he's getting used to one weird ghost quirk, another follows close behind.

/You expended a lot of energy. Do not fear. The paralysis is temporary./ Out the corner of his eye, he sees Mystery approach and proceed to sniff at Arthur's limp arm. 

/Though success can be partly attributed to exhaustion. It is still a success. Congratulations on not completely destabilising./ The sound of claws clicking on metal vibrates near his head. Arthur shoots Mystery a tired glare. A second later, a nose is prodding at his face, snuffling along his hairline.

"Stop that," Arthur finds the energy needed to limply bat at the dog with his arm, "You know it's super weird, right?" An amused snuff of air near his face tells him that Mystery does know and is definitely doing it on purpose.

"I don't think I can do this with Vivi or Lewis around," He comments after a beat, choosing to remain motionless on the ground, too spent to attempt any more movement.

"And I'm not saying it to get out of meeting them either. I really don't think I can control this right now."  If all it took were a few wayward emotions to turn him into an inferno of electric death, then there was no way would be able to safely see Lewis again.

"I'm amazed I didn't accidentality kill all three of them in the Cave." In his rush to save younger Arthur and Lewis, he hadn't even considered the possible adverse effects of lightning on his friends.

Mystery huffs, using a paw to flick the side of his head in a very human-like gesture,  /I will not take that complete lack of faith in my ability as the insult it would be, considering my poor track record. Rest assured, there will be no unsupervised human and ghost interactions until I am 100% satisfied with your control./

"Great," Arthur mutters, too tired to argue further. Maybe later, he would feel more thankful for Mystery's help and guidance. Right now he's exhausted on every level.

"Can I go back into the… my err…" He hesitates because saying the word 'anchor' feels weird and makes everything a little too real, "…thingamajig now.” Surely, he's done enough soul searching for one day.

Mystery doesn't correct his choice of phrasing, instead remarking, /I would ask you to wait a moment longer./

Arthur groans, "A moment longer? Why?"

The answer comes with a loud bang on the van doors. Arthur jolts, twitching, fatigue momentarily forgotten, eyes widening. That can't be who he thinks it is. A familiar voice yells from the other side of the door, immediately proving his suspicion correct.

"Hey. Are you done yet! Hospital visiting hours ended twenty minutes ago!"

That's Vivi.

NOTE: People seem to like this fic so here you go, more Ghost Arthur working through his shit and Mystery trying his best to be supportive.  

Part 7: here

[justlikeeddie]

black sails fic recs

I have got and continue to get so much enjoyment out of Black Sails and its fandom! It's so nice that this anniversary week of posts has made me realise it is two years since my dash was abruptly filled with people having full breakdowns over the S4 finale, and I was like, “man, I don’t know why this field of corn or whatever is so important, but I guess I should watch this show and find out”. And I did. AND IT WAS.

I don’t know how to make gifsets bcos I am an idiot, but luckily for this fan content Friday thing I CAN post a non-exhaustive list of fics in this fandom that I am absolutely obsessed with. You’re welcome!!!

Unaccommodated Man, The Peaceable Kingdom, and Congress by kvikindi / @septembriseur

James/Thomas, post-series

James looks at him, searching, and Thomas fears he will recognise that Thomas is not really Thomas, not quite Thomas, not the Thomas he had been, and so he says, “I have gone a little mad in this world without you, but now that you are here—” And James makes a sound, a sobbing, laughing sound, and crushes Thomas to him once more.

Like...obvs. This is one of the best series of stories I have read in any fandom, or, actually, that I have read in any context. Both on a macro level - with unbelievable fluency, this series encompasses trauma, recovery, intimacy, forgiveness, literature, the conception of madness, agriculture, 18th-century Native American tribal language, etc, etc - and a micro level, in which not a single word is wasted, and not a single sentence is unworthy of being read three or four times. Anyway. I have re-read all of these stories multiple times and Congress more times than I would admit to if I actually knew.

consider them both, the sea and the land by youremyqueen / @deathnoting

Flint/Silver, post-S3

Flint frowns, stiff and unbending, and leans down just a tad so that he is looking John directly in his eyes. If he’s uncomfortable with their proximity, he doesn’t let it show.

“Remember when you told me,” he grits slowly, each word weighted with emphasis, “that you had discovered the pleasure of being both loved and feared? Is that what you would like from me? It is not enough that you have earned my respect, my friendship. You would now like for me to be frightened of you as well?” His nostrils flare, his rage is quiet. “I am not one of your men.”

John can feel the words on his face and he bears them without flinching, says only, “And I am not one of yours.”

Flint’s brow twitches, and he moves a hair closer, disgustingly close, warm and sour with the smell of whiskey, a solid and immovable blockade between John and what he wants. And he says to him, of all the unbearable things, “Isn’t that exactly what you are?”

THIS IS LITERALLY THE FIC THAT CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT FLINT/SILVER. For like three whole series I just didn’t Get It. And then I read this and was like.....oh.....I Get It. It’s a weapon. Their attraction to each other is a weapon. And sometimes they like using it and sometimes they don’t. And I have never, my friends, looked back

and into what it will be changed by @sea-changed

James/Thomas/Miranda, pre-series

"The Hartfords left for the country last week," Miranda says; "they've merely invited us to view the painting. They cannot resist showing off, even in absentia." She and Thomas share a look, smirking at each other as if sharing an old joke. Then she looks back at James, and her mouth quirks up at him. "So you needn't worry about their judgement."

James considers protesting that that wasn't, exactly, what he was worried about, though upon second thought he wonders if it truly wasn't. "That's very kind," he says, hesitating.

"Is it?" Miranda asks, almost absently. "We do not invite you along as a kindness, Lieutenant; I believe I speak for both Thomas and I when I say we rather enjoy your company."

James feels his face heat, not unpleasantly, and he looks down at the carpet. Miranda is usually soft and kind, but occasionally she does this, speaks plain and pointed. She and Thomas both do this, push and keep pushing: Thomas seems to do so with curiosity, prodding until he finds something interesting, but Miranda does it as if she had already found the spot she wishes to target, and goes after it relentlessly. James thinks suddenly, and unexpectedly, that she would not make a bad Naval commander.

THIS IS LITERALLY THE FIC THAT CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT JAMES/THOMAS/MIRANDA. I used to be weirdly militant in the belief that James’s affairs with the Hamiltons only made sense if they were two separate affairs that didn’t even really overlap. And then I read this and was like....right okay....if they DID have a threesome it would have been like this

There’s Plenty of Men to Die by @autoeuphoric

Flint/Silver, post-S3

The five of them share a glance, passing it around the table, man to man. Flint’s mouth twitches and Madi laughs shortly. “I would wager every man here fancies themselves in charge. This is a meeting of chieftains. I say let it remain so.”

“Although…” Silver says slowly, pulling the others’ attention on to him. Flint’s eyes flick his way, and to his horror he realizes he has nothing else to say. No point, no segue, no plan for a redirection of the conversation. He had simply wanted Flint to look at him. A fierce longing for the days when it was just the two of them fills him, laying their plans together, even though the threat of sudden and nonnegotiable execution was much higher. But he knew where he stood. Here, there are complications. Confusions.

This is just a tiny little snatch of a scene but every beat of it is perfect! Silver navigating his obsession with Flint, in the midst of everybody navigating their new relationships with each other in the new fragile and tentative anti-colonial alliance.

a question of needs (and not rosary beads) by @seventymilestobabylon

James/Thomas, pre-series

Still: James wants to talk. If Thomas means this to be—what it is, what it clearly is, then he should have the fucking decency to say something about it. He also, and intensely, wants the whole business to be transacted without any conversation, but he knows better than to hope for that. Thomas is not capable of it, that implicit understanding. Even when he kissed James—

Thomas’s thumb very light at the hinge of his jaw. He felt a thrill like fear, when it happened.

Even then, Thomas said, “All right?” when it was over, and would have said more, except that James nodded mutely, minutely, and stammered something incoherent that required his presence elsewhere. Thomas and Miranda both looked hideously understanding about it, and James considered—as he walked home through ill-lit streets and inhaled familiar smells of smoke and fish and tar and shit—simply climbing aboard one of the ships in harbor and never returning to London.

This is one of the few pre-series fics I’ve read that really digs into James and Thomas’s incompatibilities and differences and misunderstandings - and sets them against how badly they want each other, and want to understand each other, nonetheless. Don’t get me wrong, obviously 1705 is The Only Time James McGraw Was Ever Allowed To Be Happy (tm), and I’m extremely into reading about him and Thomas making each other happy! But also - it’s so interesting to explore James being so frightened of how he feels about Thomas that he can be unkind to him, and Thomas being so immersed in how he feels about James that he can be complacent and sometimes a little thoughtless about it. And this pulls all of those things apart so well.

you and i survived by youremyqueen / @deathnoting

Anne/Jack, Vane/Jack, pre-series

“She’s not mine. That isn’t—we aren’t—I mean to say, do you actually understand what love is, Captain?”

“Love is possession,” Vane tells him, with his usual unselfconscious melodrama. “Not only of women by men, but of men by women. The point of owning a woman is to see to it that she doesn’t own you.” He speaks as if he’s explaining some very basic and widely known conceit.

Jack winces. “What a viciously horrible perception.”

Vane rolls his eyes. “Christ’s sake. Don’t you ever get tired of acting like a fucking woman?”

“Don’t you ever get tired of acting like a fucking man?”

And couldn’t they unpack that remark for days?

The extremely funny author’s note “if someone had told me two months ago that i would write a fic that featured charles ‘only straight person in nassau’ vane as a main character, i would not have believed them” is also a summary of how I feel about this fic. WHO KNEW that on top of every other fucking thing I have to care about in this fandom, I also care a LOT about Jack and Anne and Charles fuckin Vane! A principled, terrifying, Aslan-transfigured-into-a-human nightmare of a man! This fic is so excellent and does such justice to all of them. Their triumvirate gets kind of supplanted by the Max-Anne-Jack situation from S2 onwards, and I always forget how nuanced and odd and interesting this three-way dynamic is when we first meet them. This story does such a good job at trying to explain what the fuck that dynamic is.

Katabasis by unheroics

James/Thomas, pre-series, canon-divergent AU

There were Flint’s men, one leaving the cabin, another ransacking a chest for treasures, another still turning to speak to Randall; the words exchanged escaped Flint, as all else did, once his gaze fell to the Englishman.

He knelt barefoot on the deck, and wore the undyed, colourless linen of prison or asylum garments. For a precarious second Flint could only think that his hands had had nary a mark upon them, five years ago, and now were as scarred as those of a gamekeeper or veneur. He looked nothing like the man whose presence haunted Flint’s dreams, always at the corner of the vision, always cold to the touch and bleeding from the eyes and mouth.

In all his careful planning, and all his mirthless revenge, Flint had never thought to anticipate a variable in place of a set value. The presence of other men about was like an anchor at his feet, dragging him underwater, but it was Alfred Hamilton’s blood on his hands that kept him immobile.

“Will you kill me?” said Thomas Hamilton, in a voice harsh from paregoric. His tone had a note of morbid, queer hope. “I could pay.”

To spare you, or kill you? It was excruciating to wonder.

One of the very first James/Thomas fics I read! And certainly one of the first fics I read that started to probe and pull apart the McGraw-Flint dichotomy, by literally dropping Thomas right in the middle of it. And while the actual end of S4 is, obviously, the greatest and most narratively and emotionally satisfying thing that has ever happened on television, and you can quote me on that - one thing we do never get in canon is Thomas in Nassau, and I love getting to read that here.