#this has inspired a fic

[number1abbasupporter]

Sirius: i’m gay

James: that’s cool mate

James: everyone has gay thoughts though

Remus:

Peter:

Sirius:

Remus: boy do i have news for you

[stevebabey]

Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.

It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.

But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.

Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.

And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.

There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.

He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.

Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.

“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.

“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”

Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.

“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”

A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.

“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”

Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.

“Now is best.”

Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”

Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.

The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.

Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.

“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”

He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.

“What’s going on?”

Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.

“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”

To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”

Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.

Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.

“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.

Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”

There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.

“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”

The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.

Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”

Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”

Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.

“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.

“…Kissing.”

Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.

“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”

Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”

Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.

“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”

Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.

“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”

A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.

He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.

The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.

“Eddie—” He starts.

“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”

Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.

There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”

Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.

“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.

He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”

Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.

He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.

“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”

Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.

“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.

Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.

Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.

He can’t find one single ounce of regret.

next part.

[chubs-deuce]

I don't have specifically valentine's day art or anything but I made this today :3

look I love me a good corruption arc for this ship as much as the next guy esp bc it's more in-character for them, but the few stories that take a sillier, more light-hearted approach are a nice sugary treat too from time to time

[bbb-bbbbbbb]

shoutout to gordons who are like cicada shells

realized that this is more accurate, but i like the red of the solo cup

[mangostarjam]

the proposal — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, established fwb to fake engagement to lovers, smut, oral (m!receiving), piv sex, creampies, fingering, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism/sex act in a public place, praise, mentions of oral (f!receiving), reader is referred to as 'girl', 'pretty girl', and 'honey', reader is unable/chooses not to have kids, written for the romcom collab run by @bloompompom ! 11.6k words

a/n: i really should've rewatched the movie before writing this but i got carried away! also my first time really writing in soshiro's pov which was an interesting challenge. would i do some things differently? yeah. am i going to share this anyway and apply those things next time? yeah. anyway i hope you enjoy!

Hoshina Soshiro wakes up with a handful of something soft.

It only takes a moment before he realizes what's going on. You've been sleeping over more and more often lately, and your previous activities must've worn you both out more than expected.

It makes sense. Soshiro was a little stressed, and you've always been willing to help him relieve it.

He squeezes your tit and snickers quietly when you grumble at him. You're sleep-warm and utterly relaxed, your body melting back into the solid length of him as you resettle in his bed. It's barely dawn, the room brightening little by little, the light catching on the loose strands of your hair and the sweep of your eyelashes as you scrunch your nose at his teasing. He pinches your nipple lightly.

"Hoshina-kun… I'll dropkick you if you're trying to go again right now."

"You're the one who keeps squirmin'," he points out. You push your hips back against him again in retaliation and his cock twitches with interest. "You sure ya don't want another round? One for the road?"

He watches you consider it, your eyes blinking open and squinting at the clock on his nightstand. He rolls your nipple between his fingers and smirks when your lashes flutter at the feeling, only to bite back a groan when you arch into his touch. Fuck, you're so sexy.

"You just want me reporting to Narumi with your cum staining my panties," you mutter. Oh, now there's an idea. He knows you can feel how hard he's gotten, pressed up tight against your ass. Soshiro won't deny that you're right.

You're naked besides the shirt you grabbed from his closet last night, though the soft material has rucked up around the curve of your waist. He's similarly barely dressed, just the thin barrier of his briefs keeping him from pressing against you fully skin to skin. You're so soft and pliant in his arms, fitting perfectly in the crescent moon shape of his body as his little spoon.

"You'd like that," he murmurs, relishing the little shiver that goes up your spine. In a moment of weakness, you had confessed once that you really liked his morning voice (and his seriously-gonna-kick-this-kaiju's-ass voice, and his follow-my-orders voice, and — but then he'd turned you around and fucked you against the counter muttering praises in your ear as you came all over his cock). "Don'tcha think it'd be fun? He's already gonna know you spent the night."

As evidenced by the many hickies Soshiro's left all over your neck. It might be a little childish, this possessiveness — especially when you're not even his, not really — but Soshiro likes leaving little marks wherever he can, some sort of proof that you were together and that you chose to fall into bed with him.

And you keep choosing him, even as Captain Narumi Gen of the First Division actively pursues you. You tell Soshiro all the time that rank doesn't mean much to you, and it's not like you're sleeping with people for advancing or clout — but you're a platoon leader in the First Division and that means you spend way more time with Gen than with him. It wouldn't surprise Soshiro if one day you decided he wasn't worth the hassle of traveling down to the Tachikawa base on your days off, if you decided that Gen is actually kinda hot and could get in your pants for once.

That'd be the end of your friends-with-benefits relationship. The two of you agreed from the beginning that it'd be exclusive — neither of you wanted to worry about protection, and Soshiro didn't want to bother with the hassle of other partners anyway. It was easiest with you and only you.

"Hey," you mutter, turning in his arms to face him and leaning up to bite fondly at his chin. "You're thinking too much."

He knows he is. The message he received yesterday from the Hoshina clan sits heavy in the back of his mind, though he can kind of ignore it as you suck bruises into his neck.

Soshiro groans low in his throat and leans down to kiss you as you sneak your hand into his briefs. He feels hot and shivery, arousal pooling deep in his gut as all the blood in his body flows away from his brain. You give his cock a few slow pumps, smearing the precum gathering at the tip to help the glide of your hand along his length, squeezing and twisting your wrist just right as he shudders and grabs at your ass. You kiss him hard, seemingly determined to erase his train of thought, dragging your tongue along his teeth and sucking on his lip as you throw your leg over his hip. "Fuckin' hell —"

"You're so hard," you mutter, rolling the two of you over so that Soshiro's flat on his back with your legs on either side of his hips. His hands go immediately to grip your thighs, eyes widening at the wet smear of arousal you leave along his lower abs as you drag his briefs halfway down his legs. He kicks them the rest of the way off as you press down on one of the bruises you left on his shoulder. "Fuck, Hoshina, you're so — you look so — I'm gonna — wanna ride you, 'kay?"

As if he'd say no. As if he'd ever protest anything you want to do when you're grinding the soft folds of your pussy along his cock, practically dripping on it as you adjust the angle and squeeze the base of him in your haste to sit on it.

Soshiro doesn't cum right away, though it's a close call. The wet, sticky heat of you enveloping his bare cock is a feeling he'll never get tired of. It's heaven and hell all wrapped up in you, in being with you, being inside you. You moan as he enters you, a low, rough sound almost punched unwillingly out of your chest.

"Hold on to me," he grunts, offering his hands for leverage. You take the offer gratefully, squeezing his fingers as you bottom out and pant. "Fuck, how're you still so tight?"

"Why're you still so big?" you huff, wiggling your hips a little to adjust to the stretch. Soshiro tenses, groaning as your walls bear down on him. He's not going to cum. He won't. He can last a bit longer. "I thought we went like, three rounds last night," you mutter, "you should be wrung out by now."

Soshiro laughs. "And I thought I fucked ya last night," he says. "Thought I fucked ya good and proper. But you're just too good for me, huh? Too good at bein' so fuckin' perfect."

He punctuates his statement with a sharp thrust, relishing the startled whine you let out and laughing a little more when you shoot him a halfhearted glare. "Quit it," you demand, "let me do this."

You raise your hips and drop down on him carefully, working up into a pace that makes your tits bounce. Soshiro wants to see — wants you naked — and thankfully you don't stop him as he reaches up to pull your borrowed shirt off. The change in angle makes your stuttered moans veer into whines, mixing with the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the morning air. "You're doin' so well," Soshiro groans, hands coming up to hold whatever he can. You grab his shoulders for leverage, back arching as he leans forward to suck one nipple into his mouth.

"Hah — ahh, Hoshina —"

"What'd I tell ya to call me?" Soshiro grunts, switching to your other nipple with a lewd pop. He swirls his tongue around the pert bud and reaches down to rub quick circles around your neglected clit. "C'mon, pretty girl, what'd I say?"

You gush around his fingers, coating his cock in a ring of white as you bounce on it desperately. Soshiro can tell you're getting close — your whines get cut off, your walls get tighter, you dig your nails into his shoulders — and it only makes the coil threatening to snap in his gut tighten harder.

It's too early for this. You're worn out from last night, and pleasure is making your muscles strain. Soshiro can feel your thighs trembling with the effort of riding him. He leans back on one hand to help, timing his thrusts as you drop back down, hitting that spot deep inside you, keeping his other hand at your clit as you sob. The friction is driving him insane — you feel so good. He can usually keep his mouth shut during sex, only letting out rough groans and stuttered moans, but knowing you're affected by his raspy morning voice has him dropping his filter with every thrust.

"Feels so fuckin' good, pretty, you look so perfect on my cock," he grunts. You tilt your head towards the ceiling as you pant, granting him access to suck more bruises into your neck to bloom along with the ones from last night. "You're such a good girl — such a good fucking girl —"

Oh, he's gonna cum soon. You're squeezing him so tight, your wet walls squelching obscenely with every thrust.

And then you say it —

"F-fuck, Hoshina — I'm gonna — Soshiro I'm gonna cum —"

Ah, fuck.

"Nghh," Soshiro feels it snap, feels his thrusts get sloppy as he cums, thick ropes of white painting your insides as you whine and cry and cum around him, squeezing him tight, feels the sharp zip of pleasure racing through his body as all his muscles release.

You collapse on top of him and he catches you, breathing hard, sweat beading his temple and dripping into your hair. His arm is loose around your waist and he's trembling holding the two of you up with his hand planted flat on the mattress. "Can't believe you still came so much," you mumble into the side of his neck, "what the hell, Soshiro?"

"It's a going away present," he mutters back, laughing fondly when you pinch his side. "Make sure ya keep it in while you're reportin' to your Captain."

There's only the sound of harsh breathing for a moment as the two of you recalibrate and return back to your bodies.

"I'll need my panties," you say, lifting your head and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Do you know where you tossed them last night?"

Soshiro traces a pattern idly along your bare back, following a few of your scars and smoothing along the sweaty skin. "You don't wanna shower first?"

You shoot him a look and he laughs. "You'll spill out if we do — unless you're planning on going again."

Soshiro hums and leans forward to kiss you, languid and easy. You kiss him back, as naturally as breathing, and maybe there's some post nut clarity involved but the idea he's been floating in the back of his mind seems a little more like a good plan the longer he kisses you.

"What d'ya think about marryin' me?" he asks.

"Is this why you called last night sounding like that?" you ask. Soshiro tilts his head and you copy him, pinning him in place with your pretty eyes. "I came over thinking you needed to talk, but you… distracted me."

Soshiro snorts. You still sound breathless, hazy and floating off the high of your orgasm. "I got a message from my family."

"The entire Hoshina clan?"

"Yeah," he says, shifting you more comfortably in his lap. He's getting soft, but you make no effort to move from off of him. "My dad was askin' me to come back."

"To do what? You're the Vice Captain of the Third Division — surely they've stopped hounding you about quitting the Defense Force to be a teacher." You say it so easily, as if they'd be stupid to bother trying. "You're literally better than Narumi's dumb ass against mini kaiju. Your family should be proud."

"They said something 'bout my future prospects," Soshiro admits. He has no idea why you have so much faith in him, but he appreciates it. "So it sounds like I'm bein' set up with omiai. I was thinkin' it'd be nice ta walk in with a fiancée so I could avoid that whole mess."

You hum thoughtfully, but it's not an answer. Soshiro helps you get off his lap, following you into the bathroom and helping to wipe you down with a wet towel as his cum dribbles out of you. Your panties are located and you slide them on, sighing. "I wish the train ride back was shorter, but there's no way I can sit that long with your cum in me. Sorry, Hoshina-kun."

"You're gonna kill me someday," Soshiro says frankly. He didn't actually expect you to try. You snicker and flick his forehead affectionately.

"You're the one who thought this was a good idea," you point out. "For someone who isn't interested in having kids, you sure love cumming inside."

Soshiro raises an eyebrow. "Pot. Kettle."

You laugh. "Fair point," you say. "Anyway, you just need me to pretend as your fiancée, right? I'm down. Finding another fuck buddy would be a pain at this point, and you piss off Narumi the most, so it works for me. Will I get to tour the famous Hoshina training compound?"

"Yeah, 'course," Soshiro says. There's a funny feeling sitting in his chest, but he doesn't have time to think about it as you give him a sweet kiss and loop your arms around his waist. "It'll just be for a lil while. Just 'til my family gets off my back."

You shrug. "Do you want me to record Narumi's reaction when he finds out your dick game was so good I agreed to marry you?"

Soshiro laughs. You feel good pressed against him like this, hugging him in just your panties. You usually save your physical affection for behind closed doors, so Soshiro's gotten used to soaking up as much as he can before you inevitably leave.

"Go shower," you say after a moment of aimless kisses. "I can make your coffee."

"You're the best," he mumbles into your hair. You tilt your head up to accept another careful kiss to your temple, eyelashes fluttering closed in appreciation. "I'll be quick."

"That's what you said last night, but now I'm all sore," you laugh, pushing him towards the shower. Soshiro obeys, scrubbing up and getting ready for the day. You grab your toothbrush from its spot next to his on the counter to brush your teeth, and then you wash your face with the cleanser he picked up for you the other day. You shoot him a wink through the mirror when you catch him checking out your ass, and then you skip out of the bathroom and Soshiro listens through the open door as you hum absently in his quarters. Captains, Vice Captains, and platoon leaders get the most space, so while his apartment isn't as large or as fancy as Captain Ashiro's, it's still pretty sizable. There's enough space for a small kitchenette, at least, and soon the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts in to cut through the steam of his shower.

Soshiro pulls on his uniform, toweling halfheartedly at his hair as he finds you on his couch. You're nursing a mug with the JAKDF design flaking off — the one you always use, which is why he hasn't replaced it yet — and there's another fresh mug on the table. Soshiro sits beside you and takes a sip.

"Perfect," he says, "thanks, sweetheart."

You've dressed back in your own uniform, rumpled and sleep worn. "That'll cost three kisses," you say, smiling into your mug. Soshiro hums, arching a brow.

"The cost's gone up? What's up with that?"

You shrug demurely. "Inflation. Sorry, but rules are rules."

Soshiro is careful to grasp your mug as he leans over to kiss you, bypassing your softly puckered lips and going for your nose and cheek and forehead instead. Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes to glare at him playfully. He's hovering close enough that he can feel your breaths on his skin. "The cost for not paying up properly is five kisses."

"Ah, well, I guess I'd better pay up," he murmurs, setting your mug aside and kissing the silly smile off your lips. You giggle into the kisses, delighted and giddy, a version of you that Soshiro only sees behind closed doors.

"Your hair's still wet," you say, pulling back with a wrinkle to your nose. A few stray droplets of water slide down your cheek. Soshiro watches, mesmerized, as your tongue darts out to catch it. "C'mon, I'll help you."

You sit up and take the towel from around his neck, fluffing up his hair as he tilts his head obligingly towards you. It's nearly time for you to catch the train back, but you take your time, pressing the water out of his hair carefully.

It's a little too sweet, a little too comfortable and domestic. At the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement, you never stayed the night, and you had laughed when he offered, preferring quick fucks around the base in the limited time you had together. That was about a year ago, and now you show up in the evenings, claiming his pillows and demanding he update you on the latest story he's been reading before getting down to business. Any more of this and he'll start getting ideas.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think ya liked me."

Soshiro peeks up at you from beneath his bangs, a lopsided smirk on his lips, ready to fall back into the easy pattern of teasing and bantering with you. Just like clockwork, he catches you rolling your eyes. "I wouldn't let you or your dick anywhere near me if I didn't like you at least a little bit, Hoshina-kun."

"And 'cause I piss off your Captain," Soshiro says. You nod with just a fraction of hesitation, but that's probably because you're distracted by the towel in his hair.

"Narumi gets so grumpy," you laugh. "You'd think he's never been rejected by girls before."

"He's never been rejected by someone as pretty as you," Soshiro says absently, reaching up for the towel. His hand brushes the back of yours and you drop it abruptly, covering up the moment with a scoff as you turn quickly to grab your mug. "Want me to walk ya to your train?"

"I'm a big girl," you roll your eyes. "I'll be fine." Soshiro watches as you drain the rest of your coffee and rise to bring the mug to the sink. You pad back and lean over the back of the couch to give him a light kiss on his forehead, and then you're sliding your boots on at the genkan and waving with one hand on the door. "See you next time, fake fiancé."

His apartment is quieter, emptier without you, so Soshiro finishes up his own coffee and heads out to face the day. His muscles are pleasantly sore, relaxed in the way he always is after spending time with you, and now that he has a plan for dealing with his meddling family, it's easier to cheerfully put his new rookies through a rough training session.

You send him a message later in the day, a short video clip of you in Captain Narumi's office. Soshiro settles in his desk chair as he watches, mindful of Okonogi searching for some records in another corner of the workspace. The video clip starts off with the front facing camera, where you grin and throw up a peace sign, before it flips to show the First Division Captain hunkered down in a mess of boxes and a rumpled futon, fingers tapping rapidly at buttons as he stares at the television screen with bloodshot eyes.

"Reporting, Captain Narumi," your voice sounds cheerful and Soshiro can see Gen's head twitch towards the sound.

"I'm almost done beating this boss," Gen says hurriedly.

You hum, but it's clear you don't particularly care. "Then I guess I can tell you later about how I'm engaged to Vice Captain Hoshina."

"Hah?!" Gen's controller flies into his blanket as he scrambles up, a pathetic noise coming from the television as a Game Over flashes across the screen. "What did you just — are you recording this?"

"I promised I'd show my future husband," you say sweetly, and damn if the phrase doesn't stir something strange in Soshiro's chest. "Do you have any congratulatory words for us?"

Soshiro brings his phone closer to his face, snickering as you zoom in on Gen's rapidly contorting expressions. The Captain of the First Division seems to refocus, gaze zeroing in on your neck. "You're pulling a prank on me," Gen says. "You look like you got attacked. You two aren't even dating. What about giving me a chance?!"

The video shakes as you shrug. "What can I say? We've been together for a year now, you know. Hoshina-kun's the only one I trust to treat me right. Anyway, I've gotta tell everyone else, thanks, Captain."

The video flips to show your face again, and you give a little wave and a smile to the camera. "See you soon, love!"

It cuts off with a strangled noise from Gen's direction and the bright peal of your laughter in response. Soshiro can't help laughing too, clutching at his side as he scrolls through the rest of your messages to see screenshots of the First Division Captain's face looking like he belongs in several viral memes. And if Soshiro's ears feel a little warm at your new term of endearment for him, well, that's just for him to know.

Okonogi pops up with a stack of files and sets them on the table. "What was that, Vice Captain?"

Soshiro hums, tapping out a response to you. Before he can send it, you send a blurry photo that makes him sit up straight, eyes wide. It's clearly your panties shucked down your thighs, taken from an awkward angle, but even with the shadowy lighting he can see the way your fingers are glistening with creamy white liquid stretching down to your pussy.

Is that… is that his cum from earlier this morning?

You send him a thumbs up emoji. Mission success, you type, as if you aren't giving him a heart attack from several kilometers away.

Okonogi clears her throat as Soshiro locks his phone and rubs at his face. "Sir?"

"Ah, my fiancée just sent me a funny video."

The news spreads across the two divisions rapidly, much to Gen's loudly voiced annoyance and Soshiro's amusement. It isn't exactly a secret that you have an exceedingly friendly relationship with the Third Division's Vice Captain, but the details of your engagement are enough to fuel the communal bathhouse rumor mills for a solid few weeks. Love in the Defense Force isn't rare by any means, but most of the higher ranked members are more focused on their fighting abilities than romance, so it's big news for the Defense Force's strongest miniature kaiju combatant to be involved in something like an engagement.

Time moves differently in the Defense Force — there are daily patrols, training sessions, sporadic days off — but everything gets put on hold when a kaiju emerges in the area. Then it's destruction minimization, civilian rescues, kaiju neutralization and the aftermath of reports and reconstruction and kaiju deconstruction. The First Division gets a few more than the Third's, just by virtue of being based next to the ocean, and it feels like ages and no time at all before Soshiro sees you again.

"What's this?" you ask, shutting his office door behind you with a soft click. "Are you behind that mountain of paperwork somewhere, Hoshina-kun?"

"M'here," he grumbles, reaching up to stretch out the stiffness in his back. Nobody ever talks about how much paperwork comes with going up the ranks. "Thanks for comin' by."

You snicker as he spins to face you, letting him tug you closer by the hem of your uniform jacket. "Did you call me over to rescue you? Sorry, sir, but I have my own paperwork to die under."

Soshiro snorts and tugs you even closer, until your knees bump his. "I needed to give ya somethin'."

He digs around in his jacket pocket for a moment before producing a small box. Your eyes widen, but you don't say anything as he takes your hand and slides the ring into place. It's a simple band, safe to wear beneath combat gloves, but the gem inset is a clear, brilliant amethyst. "Unconventional color," you remark, tilting your hand in the light.

This is somehow more embarrassing than he thought it'd be, but thankfully you don't seem to notice the flush creeping up his neck. "You said once that ya liked my hair color in the light. Since it's just a favor, I figured you'd be alright with somethin' a lil different."

You meet his eyes and grin. "Oh? Is this where you promise me a real ring when we get engaged for real?"

Soshiro's heart kicks in his chest as he coughs his surprise. You laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, mussing up his bangs. He blinks as you comb the strands back into place. "I dunno, you'd hafta move to Tachikawa if we got married for real."

If you're not joking — if you really do feel something else, something more —

You tilt your head, your eyes clear and sparkling as the setting sun hits your face just right. The angle of light swallows your pupils, throws your gaze into something unreadable for just a moment. "You don't think you could unseat Hasegawa-san as Vice Captain? He should probably retire soon, you know. He looks way too stressed."

"Your Captain would never take me," Soshiro scoffs. "Besides, I promised I'd always clear a path for Captain Ashiro."

You're quiet for a moment. Soshiro can feel his heartbeat in his throat. "I guess I could move here," you concede, humming. Your fingers still on his bangs. "The company's not too bad."

"Not too bad, huh?" Soshiro raises an eyebrow, skims his fingers along your waist. The air feels charged with something unspoken, something different — but he knows how to drag it back to normalcy. "I can't say much 'bout the company, but what about this desk?"

Mischief sparks in your eyes and he answers your grin with his own. That's more like it. "The last time we fucked on this desk, Okonogi-chan complained that all your paperwork was messed up afterwards," you point out. "I have a better idea."

Soshiro's eyes widen and a bolt of lust zips down to his cock as you sink to your knees, settling between his thighs with a hum. You shuffle and turn a little, positioning yourself between his chair and his desk. "What're ya doin'?"

"You still need to finish your paperwork, right? How many reports do you think you'll get through before I can make you cum down my throat?" Your eyes flash in the light and he shudders, hips jumping into your touch.

"Ya lock the door?" Soshiro huffs, shifting in his seat as you run your hands along his thighs. Fuck, his pants are getting tight. You shrug noncommittally and drag your finger along the hard bulge of his cock. "I didn't call ya over for this, y'know."

"I know," you unzip his pants and smile as he lifts his hips enough for you to yank the fabric down. His cock springs free and you lick your lips. Soshiro groans. The way you're looking at him — eyes bright, lips wet and shiny, eyelashes fluttering as if you're shy when you reach out to lick the beads of precum on the tip of his cock — should be fucking illegal. "You'd better get to work, Vice Captain."

Oh, fuck you. Soshiro knows you know exactly how to rile him up, and using his title in that tone of yours is one guaranteed way to get him that much closer to cumming. You blink up at him expectantly. "You can't be serious."

You stroke his shaft with your left hand, the cool metal of your new ring sending electricity up his spine. It warms to body heat quickly, but the added texture is enough to keep all of his senses trained on your touch. He grabs a pen as you twist your wrist on the upstroke and he nearly drops the damn thing. "You'd better get them done correctly, Soshiro."

"I hate you," Soshiro chokes out a grunt as you suddenly engulf him in your mouth. His balls tighten and he snaps his pen in half, heat and lust and lightning gathering in a maelstrom below his gut. "Fuck, you feel so good."

You swirl your tongue around the tip as you suck, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing him down without giving him any time to brace himself. The wet, warm heat of you is heaven around his cock, the tight suction of your lips sending him spiraling with every stroke. It's hot in the office — sweat beads at his hairline as you settle into a steady rhythm, the wet, sloppy sounds of you drooling all over him echoing in the quiet room. "Yeah, honey, just like that."

Your eyes widen at the new pet name but your rhythm doesn't falter — if anything, you start moving faster, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat in a way that's driving him insane. Soshiro can't even keep his eyes focused on the paper in front of him, mesmerized by the bob of your head and the gleam of your eyes beneath his desk. He cups your cheek with his free hand, something light fluttering in his chest when you lean into his touch, even as you proceed to suck his cock like your life depends on it.

Tension and heat coils in his gut. Holy fucking hell. You have one hand braced on his tense thigh, but your other hand goes to cup his balls, smearing your drooling saliva on them as he chokes at the feeling. It's overwhelming — you are overwhelming — and he tries not to hold your head in place while he fucks your mouth but your moans are so pretty and you look so hot with your mouth stuffed and —

The click of the door opening is the only warning he gets, but luckily years of honed reflexes saves the two of you as he rolls his seat forward, forcing you further beneath the desk and his cock further down your throat.

"Hah — shit!" Soshiro gasps as you dig your nails into his thigh. He throbs in your mouth. "Ah, fuckin' — sorry, Okonogi-chan, I just hit my knee on the table."

The Third Division's Operations Manager gives him a funny look, but thankfully she stays near the door. "I just came by to ask if your reports are done, sir!"

Your throat is convulsing around his cock and it's the worst thing he's ever felt in his life because if he cums right now, there's no way Okonogi will miss it. "N-not yet, sorry!"

"Well, let me know when you're done so I can add my files. Will you finish them before your fiancée gets here?" Okonogi glances around. "I thought she'd be here by now, actually."

"Nope, haven't seen her!" Soshiro's voice cracks. There's spilled ink staining one of the reports. You slowly pull off his cock, but the lightning rod of tension in his spine just coils harder. "I'll finish 'em soon!"

"Are you getting sick, Vice Captain? Please don't take this the wrong way, but you're sweating a lot and you're all… red," Okonogi says hesitantly.

"Aw, 'm fine, dear," Soshiro threads his fingers through your hair in warning when you make an aborted little sound. He coughs loudly. "I feel just peachy! In fact, I'm ready to zip through all these reports right now!"

You slowly sink down on his cock again, tongue tracing the vein as you go. Soshiro dares to shoot you a warning glare and nearly cums down your throat at the answering gleam in your eye. He's throbbing in your mouth and you don't even care. Fuck you're a menace.

"Well, if you say so," Okonogi sounds rightfully dubious, but she puts her hand back on the doorknob. "I'll check again later!"

The instant the door clicks shut after she leaves, Soshiro slumps into his seat, groaning low in his throat as you swallow him back down. It's dim beneath his desk, but he can clearly see tears gathering at the corners of your pretty eyes, and you moan as he carefully starts fucking your mouth. The tightly wound tension is incessant, a burn beneath his skin, a thrumming in his ears. You're gorgeous like this, choking on his cock and drooling, spit soaking the bottom of the seat as you blink those teary eyes up at him.

"Fuckin' hell, honey, you're gonna make me fuckin' cum," Soshiro groans. "Where d'ya want it? Down your throat? Are ya gonna swallow it all like a good fuckin' girl?"

You moan loudly at that and he huffs out a laugh, the tension so tight it feels like he's going to snap. It's the ring that does it — your hand disappears for a moment and when you bring it back into view, he catches the glint of the ring, glistening with your cum, because of course you're fucking soaked and of course you had to show him with his cock down your throat and —

Soshiro cums so hard he sees white.

There's nothing. There's sparks and light and heat blooming everywhere. Distantly he hears himself grunting a garbled version of your name, but his brain shuts down so hard he barely has the capacity to breathe as his orgasm crashes through him.

"Soshiro, Soshiro," you whisper, climbing onto his lap and pressing soft little kisses all over his neck and jaw and cheeks. Soshiro comes back to his senses slowly, panting hard as feeling returns to his fingers and legs. "Hey," you whisper, brushing his sweat soaked hair from his forehead. "Are you back?"

"You…" he breathes. His brain is still rebooting.

You giggle. "Me?"

Soshiro grips your waist to hold you steady as you hover over his cock. "Gimme a minute. I'm gonna make you squirt all over this fuckin' desk."

You laugh outright at that, dipping down to kiss him sweetly. He can taste himself on your tongue, but it doesn't bother him. "Okonogi-chan will kill you if we get the reports messy."

Soshiro runs his hands up your sides just to watch you shiver. He still feels hazy, floaty, breathless and loose. "You're stayin' the night?"

"Is that an order, Vice Captain?" you ask teasingly. Your voice sounds scraped raw. He hums, reaching for your dirty fingers. You watch with blown pupils as he licks them clean, his tongue swirling around your engagement ring and his canine tooth catching on your fingertip.

"Let's go back to my rooms so nobody'll hear ya screamin' my name."

He ends up making you squirt in the shower, eating you out messy and lewd as steam fogs up the room. You goad him into fucking you from behind against the door afterward, pushing your ass back with every heavy thrust until you both cum hard enough to warrant a bath. He washes your back and hair in the shower first, building up a lather of shampoo and twisting the strands this way and that as you laugh and complain about the water temperature, but the both of you are relaxed and pliant in the warm water of the bath afterwards.

You cajole him into one of the smaller mess halls afterward, your hair wet and dripping down your borrowed shirt as he sets two trays piled with food in front of you. It's late — way past midnight — and you're soft and giggly and clingy as you drape your legs over his lap and eat. Soshiro drops extra bits on your plate whenever he thinks you aren't paying attention, but of course you're always paying attention to him.

"Quit it," you grumble, "I'm too full!"

Soshiro snickers as you scoop the rest of your food onto his plate. "Whoa, is this what I'll get as a married man? Your leftovers?"

You roll your eyes. "Shut up, you spoiled asshole. When we're married you know you'll be doing all the cooking."

Maybe it's the late hour, but the way you say it — like it's a fact. Like it's a truth, and not a lie to appease the Hoshina clan and keep them from meddling in his life. Soshiro wonders when he started hoping.

"That's true," he says lightly. "You're just as bad as Captain Ashiro with kitchen knives."

"Don't let your family find out, or they'll tell you to find a new wife," you joke. Soshiro snorts, but it's quiet in the empty mess hall. You prop your chin on your hand and watch him chase around the last grains of rice with his chopsticks. "Tell me about your family? Is there anything I should be prepared for?"

"Well, ya know I've got an older brother," Soshiro says. It feels a little strange, mentioning Soichiro after all these years of (literal) radio silence. "He'll be busy captaining the Sixth, so we shouldn't be runnin' into him at the house. My dad's still an instructor, and he'll probably wanna know 'bout your combat levels. My ma…"

"Uh oh," you murmur. Soshiro sighs and takes your hand.

"My ma's always wanted grandkids." He watches as your face goes blank. "Y'know I ain't the type. I've got my hands full with my lil' fledglings already."

"Well," you squeeze his hand and offer a tiny smile, "at least this is fake. Your mom will get her grandkids eventually, even though it won't be from me."

You're quiet and distant on the short walk back to his rooms, but maybe it's just the late hour. Soshiro doesn't know how to break the strange awkwardness that's settling between the two of you — but you seem lost in thought, kissing him goodnight absently and quickly burrowing your face into his neck as if you don't want him to look too closely at your expression.

It's weird. You seem back to normal in the morning light, making his coffee and hugging him from behind while he brushes his teeth, but there's a strange distance in your gaze and your smile drops unnaturally when you think he isn't paying attention. There isn't much Soshiro can do about it, though — you go back to the First Division and your texts are… typical. You agree to take some time off to visit the Hoshina family home together and Soshiro just about wears down the floor of his office with his pacing.

"Vice Captain, are you sure you don't need a break?" Okonogi asks. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but you seem agitated."

Soshiro flops back into his seat and stares at the ink stain he left behind the last time the two of you were in his office together. The ruined report was luckily one of his own, so he just printed another copy, but unfortunately he hasn't been able to scrub the ink out of the desk. "Nothing to worry 'bout, Okonogi dear."

"Are you worried about your family visit? I'm sure it'll be fine, sir — your fiancée is perfect for you," Okonogi says. She adjusts her glasses. "But if you're concerned, you should talk to her. She'd want to know."

Soshiro doesn't think you want to know what's really going through his head — you'd probably run away. Casual. Friends with benefits. You were the one who brought it up, after years of working together whenever your Divisions teamed up, after plenty of teasing and friendly competitions and sharing meals sitting slightly apart from the rest of your officers. You always caught his eye, but of course he'd never assume you were interested, not when you had all those other options (including Captain Narumi) — so it had been a welcome surprise when you confessed that you thought he was hot. That you thought about him at night. That maybe having a friends with benefits arrangement could be good for both of you to blow off steam without any mess.

Soshiro still remembers your first time together — the first and only time you slept together in the First Division. Your rooms were smaller than his, but he hadn't had much of a chance to explore, too busy learning how to elicit those sounds from your lips that haunted his dreams for months afterwards. It was awkward at first, with bumped noses and self conscious laughter, but you had forged ahead as if it would be your only chance and it was so good.

It's always been good with you — good and easy. This weird… distance? It's unsettling. Soshiro can tell something is up, but you message him normally and there's nothing for him to hang this niggling feeling on.

He meets you at the train station a few days later and you smile at him like he's made your day. "Should I be calling you Soshiro-kun for this trip?" you ask, offering a canned coffee from the vending machine. It's early, and of course he hadn't had time to make his own morning coffee, so the can is a welcome weight in his hand.

"Yeah, but don't do it too often or I'll drag ya into a hotel on our way down," Soshiro says, trying not to stare. He pops open the can and takes a sip, eyes dragging down your form as you laugh. It's rare to see you in something other than your Defense Force uniform, his borrowed clothes, or naked — and you've shown up to the train station in a cute skirt and blouse outfit, looking fresh and adorable and not at all like you take down kaiju on a regular basis. Something about the dissonance stirs up a surge of protectiveness in Soshiro, though you'd probably offer to kick his ass if he voices this thought aloud.

"We're meeting your parents, Soshiro-kun," you scold, "keep it in your pants."

But there's a teasing glint in your eye and Soshiro snorts, reaching out to snag your wrist, pulling you close so he can kiss the laugh out of your mouth. The strange unsettled feeling is nudged to the back of his mind as you kiss him back.

The shinkansen ride is a few hours long, but you've packed bentos and seem perfectly content to gaze out the window at the flashing scenery as he reads a book. You doze off a few times, settling into his side as naturally as breathing, and Soshiro keeps as still as possible so you can be comfortable leaning against him. You later confess that the bentos were made from bits and pieces you had begged from the officers on chef duty early this morning and Soshiro teases you about making your bentos in the future.

"You can barely even function without your coffee in the morning, Hoshina-kun, how're you gonna make us bentos?" You're so pretty when you're laughing like this — lighthearted and sweet with your sparkly eyes. Soshiro knows he's staring openly now, but you don't seem to mind, leaning into his space to steal the last bite of tamagoyaki while he's distracted.

"I'm a man of many talents," Soshiro declares, just to watch you snort into your royal milk tea can. "But 'course I'll just make 'em the night before."

"That's good planning," you nod sagely. "I knew I picked a good future husband."

The automated announcements overhead remind the two of you that your stop is coming up, and Soshiro gathers up the trash and your bags in preparation to offboard. Both of you packed light, used to moving quickly through cities on long deployments, and it's nothing for him to sling both bags over his shoulder. You follow him off the shinkansen and through the station, always close enough to touch but careful to maintain a little bit of distance in case someone sees.

It's lucky you do, because as soon as the two of you step out into the balmy southern air, someone calls out his name.

Soshiro feels his shoulders stiffen and you shoot him a mildly alarmed look. "Well, well, well, if it ain't my lil bro!"

What the hell.

"And ya really brought someone! Ma's gonna be over the moon!" Soichiro says brightly. Soshiro watches with dread as his older brother approaches and promptly offers his hand for you to shake. You take it, amusement in the edges of your polite smile. "I'm Hoshina Soichiro, this guy's older brother and Captain of the Sixth Division."

You introduce yourself, shooting Soshiro a wry glance as you add, "and I know who you are, sir. My captain speaks highly of you."

"Oho! You're a member of the Defense Force? Are ya with the Third?" Soichiro asks. If you've noticed that Soichiro and Soshiro haven't actually spoken to each other yet, you don't mention it.

"No, sir. I'm with the First Division," you reply. "Thank you for coming to meet us at the station. We weren't expecting anyone."

"Aw, well, I wanted ta catch up with my lil bro," Soichiro says. Soshiro's mouth twists a little at that, but he faces his older brother and offers him a tiny smile. It makes his face hurt. "It's been a long time since you've been home."

"Things are busy in the Third and I'm further away than you are," Soshiro says. Thankfully his voice stays steady. You step a little closer to him, the back of your hand brushing the back of his, and he takes a deep, fortifying breath. "Is everythin' good at home?"

"Things are peachy," Soichiro says, waving them along as he begins to walk. "Dad's just finished up teachin' a new batch of hopefuls for the Force, and ma's been settin' me up with omiai every time I come home. Is that what you're here for, lil bro?"

"They just told me ta come by," Soshiro admits. "But I've got some news for 'em, anyway."

Soichiro glances back at the two of you walking so closely together and hums. "Yeah, I figured. When ma said you'd be bringin' a guest, I knew I had ta come see it for myself first. It ain't right that ya got such a cute girlfriend, Soshiro."

Soshiro can feel his ears burning, but you just shoot him a grin and a raised eyebrow. Well, if you're fishing for compliments… "She is a cutie pie," he says lightly. "But she's smart, too, and funny as hell. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He watches you blush prettily and avoid his gaze for the rest of the ride towards the Hoshina compound. Years and years of kaiju fighting and developing the Hoshina clan techniques means the family is pretty well off — Soshiro doesn't flaunt the family's wealth, determined as he is to prove his own worth — but it can't be denied that he grew up well taken care of and pampered in spite of the intense training he put himself through growing up.

The grounds sprawl in a valley nestled between densely forested hills. The buildings are traditional and the yards are all swept clean, tastefully interspersed with rock gardens and ponds full of glimmering koi fish. The sharp clack of practice swords echo in the balmy air as a clan member leads students through exercises, though Soshiro doesn't spot anyone out of the ordinary as Soichiro leads them into the main house.

He pauses before the sliding door that leads to where his parents will be waiting. This is fake — the two of you just need to get through this weekend, and then you can go back to your divisions and pretend none of this happened. His family won't expect any updates for a long time, and by then Soshiro can figure out if you… if you'd be willing to marry him for real. Maybe, by then, he'll finally be good enough for you. So why is his heart pounding so loudly in his chest?

You stop as well, looking wide eyed at him as you shift your elegantly wrapped gift in your trembling hands. "Soshiro?"

"I promise they won't bite," he murmurs, ducking close as Soichiro reaches for the door. He doesn't know if his older brother can hear, but it doesn't really matter as long as you feel better about this meeting. "I'm the one choosin' you, remember."

You blink up at him, close enough for a kiss, your eyes searching his for something before you take a deep breath and nod. "Right. You're the only biter in the family."

He snorts before he can stop himself, feeling hot around the neck and ears as he straightens up. Jumping into the middle of a daikaiju battle would probably be easier than this — than facing his parents with news of his engagement and listening to them tell him to quit the Defense Force. His older brother lets out a quiet cough before he slides the door open. The three of you enter the lion's den.

Soshiro has nothing to worry about. Hours later finds the two of you settling into the room you'll be using during your stay, futon laid out as you sit beside it, your legs tucked to the side with your skirt splayed out. The sliding door leading to the walkway is open, exposing the two of you to a small side yard featuring a koi fish pond, but otherwise the guest room is out of the way of the main buildings. Soshiro won't be staying in the same room as you, even if his parents did approve of the engagement, but there's still some time before lights out and he wants to be with you. You let out a deep sigh and reach for his hand.

"That went well?" you ask carefully. Soshiro squeezes your hand. Watching you interact with his parents, who he loves in spite of the sense of duty that permeates everything they do, and with his older brother, who he knows is so much better than him at everything — seeing you cheerfully and earnestly bringing up Soshiro's own good qualities whenever you could did a lot to ease an unknown soreness in his heart.

"You were amazin'," he says honestly. You blush.

"I just wanted them to know how amazing you are," you say. "You're the coolest Vice Captain in the Defense Force, you know?"

"Just a cool Vice Captain?" Soshiro asks, glancing over at you. He smiles a little to himself as you roll your eyes.

"Did you also want me to tell them you're an incredible lover?"

Soshiro laughs out loud at that, releasing your hand so that he can pull you into his lap. You settle there easily, grinning, looping your arms around his neck as he leans up to kiss you. "We can keep that to ourselves," he says. His heart feels light. "I didn't realize you were payin' that much attention to me. Stroke a guy's ego like that and he might propose for real."

A wall comes up in the depths of your eyes and he falters as he leans in to kiss you, but you close the distance before he can ask what's wrong. You taste sweet, like the daifuku mochi you shared with his ma earlier, and you kiss him like you never want to stop. Soshiro groans into your mouth as you lick into his, your tongue sliding slick against his teeth. You don't pull away as you kiss, merely tugging his lip between your teeth, sucking lightly and tilting your head for better access. You kiss him hungrily, messily, the kind of desperate kissing you usually resort to after weeks without seeing each other, and all of it sends heat lancing through his body and straight to his cock.

You're so fucking soft in his arms — delicate and strong and warm, barely resisting as he crushes you to his chest, wrinkling your blouse and slipping a hand below the waistband of your skirt. Soshiro can feel the rabbit-fast beat of your heart against his, hears the soft gasp you let out when he nicks your lip. A breeze floats in from the wide open door, ruffling his hair, and he suddenly remembers where you are.

"Soshiro…" you breathe, chasing his lips as he pulls back with all the self control he can muster. "Soshiro, c'mere."

Fuck, the way you sound —

"Quit teasin' me," Soshiro grumbles, hands heavy on your hips. He leans back and glares halfheartedly at you, though it's nearly impossible when your lips are spit slick and kiss swollen and your eyes are hazy with want. "Someone could walk by at any moment."

You blink. "Not my fault you're irresistible." You rock your hips slightly in his lap and smirk when he groans at the friction against his cock. "Are you going to jerk off in your childhood bedroom?"

"You'd like that," Soshiro notes breathlessly. "Are ya gonna touch yourself tonight? Here, on our guest futon? Are ya gonna think of me?"

"I always think of you," you confess easily. Soshiro's heart thunks painfully in his chest. You tilt your head and kiss the tip of his nose. "It'll be weird sleeping in this guest room tonight when you're so close by."

"I'll cuddle ya lots when we get back to the base," Soshiro promises. "Whatever ya want."

"Okay, I'll hold you to it," you say, kissing him sweetly. "I guess you should get out of here before we really give something for your family to talk about."

Soshiro laughs quietly and skims his lips along the smooth column of your neck. "You'll hafta let go of me if ya want me to leave."

You slide off his lap with a pout, waving him off with a small smile that drops as soon as he rounds the corner. Soshiro keeps walking, however, because whatever's going on with you is probably something that can wait until you get back to the base. He doesn't want to air out any issues where his family can hear.

After a long day of train travel and the excruciating anxiety of presenting you and your engagement to his family, Soshiro wants nothing more than to sleep. But as he approaches his room, he groans to himself. The light is on, and the shadowy figure waiting for him inside is unfortunately familiar.

"It's late," Soshiro says, sliding open the door and facing his older brother. "Can't this wait 'til tomorrow?"

"Aw, but I've gotta go back to my base tomorrow," Soichiro says. He holds out a bokken and tilts his head towards the yard outside, which is swept clear of rocks and leaves. "Wanna go a round? Or are ya still my lil Wimpshiro?"

The old nickname makes Soshiro frown. He takes the bokken and nods toward the yard. "After you, Bonehead bro."

They don't have any protective gear, but neither of them are really looking to hurt the other. Soshiro feels his muscles tense with familiarity and falls into the rhythm of his childhood — the clack and clatter of blades meeting and pushing apart, the shuffle of feet on hard packed dirt and the low swoosh as the wooden practice sword narrowly misses his hair. He can tell his older brother is holding back, but it doesn't feel disrespectful. Or like he's underestimating him. Unlike in childhood, when Soshiro knew bone deep that he could reach his brother with just a little bit more, now it feels like a mutual agreement not to wear themselves out.

"You surpassed me a long time ago, Soshiro."

The words make him jerk back in surprise. "Don't make fun of me," he snaps. "You aren't even goin' all out."

Soichiro sticks his tongue out and flicks his long braid over his shoulder. "You ain't either, lil Soshiro. I know you hate my friggin' guts, but I'm proud to be your older bro, y'know?"

Soshiro frowns. Keeps himself in a 'ready' stance. "Where's this comin' from?"

"I was listenin' to your fiancée gushin' 'bout your good qualities," Soichiro says, leaping forward with a strike that Soshiro catches with his own blade. "And I was thinkin' it's a damn shame she knows ya better than I do."

Soshiro knocks the next strike aside and falls into a flurry of practiced blows, meeting Soichiro's wooden blade at every twist and turn. "She's my fiancée."

"And she's a good one," Soichiro nods. "Makes sense that she's picked you outta everyone."

But it's fake — it's not a real engagement — you haven't picked him, not for real —

"If ya stay here any longer she might change her mind. Good thing you're goin' back to the Sixth."

It comes out before he has a chance to swallow it down, and Soichiro's next strike misses him by miles. "What're ya talkin' about, ya dope? She'd never pick me."

Soshiro sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose. Being around his older brother and facing all these memories again is throwing him off. He walked past one of the training buildings earlier and his father's voice had leapt into his mind unbidden — Soichiro is the Hoshina family's ultimate incarnation — and while he knows it's always been out of love and worry for his safety, he can't stop the bitterness from stinging in his throat whenever he remembers his family telling him to give up on his dreams of joining the Defense Force.

And it seems it's all combining into one awful swirl of insecurity that isn't even fair to you. Soshiro knows you better than to think you'd suddenly choose his older brother over him. Even if Soshiro is used to being a reject… he's never been rejected by you.

"Anyway, I'm lookin' forward to the wedding," Soichiro says, oblivious to Soshiro's inner turmoil. "Ten bucks says you'll cry during the sake sharing ceremony."

"Shaddup, ya bonehead," Soshiro laughs in spite of himself, startled out of his thoughts. "I ain't gonna cry."

"You look at her like she's the whole world," Soichiro says. He slides into a neutral position, his wooden blade pointing downwards. "When she births your first child, you're gonna sob like a baby."

The words are cold water thrown over his shoulders. "We ain't havin' kids."

"Oh?" Soichiro flicks his braid back over his shoulder again. "That's fine. I'll let ma know she can rest easy just dealin' with mine."

"Ma… won't mind?" Soshiro asks.

"Ma just wants ya to visit more often," his older brother says, "and she likes your fiancée. Said she's cute as a button and clearly adores you, which is all ma wants for us boys."

"You're gonna let her keep pullin' ya into omiai?" Soshiro asks, dropping out of his fighting stance as well.

"Not everyone's lucky enough to find a love like yours, lil bro," Soichiro shrugs. "Let your older brother show some dignity for the clan, alright?"

Soichiro finally leaves and Soshiro sits on the deck, bokken resting across his lap. The traditional buildings creak as they settle, a familiar sound as he looks out into the deepening twilight.

One more day. One more day in his family home, and then he'll be back on a train to Tokyo with you by his side. Tomorrow the plan is to give you the tour you wanted, and then catch the shinkansen after lunch. Maybe Soshiro can borrow you for the rest of the evening, too — you can always catch the next morning train to Ariake.

"Soshiro."

"Yeah, honey?"

You bite your lip before you reply, which is Soshiro's first sign that something is up. You acted normally during the morning tour of his family home, walking close enough to brush shoulders with him and smiling without a care in the world, and you snuck in a few kisses on the train ride back to Tokyo. But now you're fiddling with the sleeve of your pretty dress and barely looking him in the eye. The train station is emptying out around you.

"I think we shouldn't see each other for a while."

Soshiro's heart clenches in his chest. This is it, then. You've finally gotten tired of him — you've figured out that you could do better, find someone better —

"I love you, but I can't… I can't give you kids. I know that's what your family expects, and it isn't right to get their hopes up like this. I like them, Soshiro. They love you so much."

Soshiro's brain feels fuzzy.

"Wait. What did you just say?"

You frown up at him. Your eyes are sparkling with unshed tears and he reaches up to thumb at your cheek, brushing along the soft skin there as he stares down at you.

"My ma doesn't care if I have kids," Soshiro says quietly. His heart is beating so loudly he can barely hear his own voice. "They just want me to visit more."

Your cheek warms under his touch. "So I've been worrying about that this whole time for nothing?"

"I only found out last night, talkin' to my big bro," Soshiro says. "Do ya really love me?"

"You're an idiot," you breathe. You reach up to grab his hand and turn to walk down the platform, tugging him along. "You're coming with me. We're going to my place this time."

Soshiro lets you drag him onto the train to Ariake, lets you hold his hand the entire time, his rough palms scraping against yours as you squeeze his fingers. The two of you make it onto Ariake base unscathed and unnoticed. You lock your room door behind you.

"Look at this," you demand, booting up your computer and pulling up a word document that fills the whole screen. Soshiro leans over the desk to read it, eyes widening with every word.

"This is…"

"My request for a transfer," you nod, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest. "I wrote it a long time ago — before your proposal, actually. I've been in love with you for ages, Soshiro. I just didn't know if you…"

"I love you."

You blink. Your nose wrinkles as you pout. It's the cutest thing he's ever seen. "I had hopes, when you proposed, even though I knew it was fake, but you just… kept making me feel all mixed up."

"I thought I was lucky ya kept choosin' me, but my luck was gonna run out someday," Soshiro says, his voice cracking on the words. "You could choose anyone."

You roll your eyes and the tension pops like a bubble. "Why would I choose anyone else when I love you, Soshiro?"

Soshiro laughs, feeling suddenly weightless and warm and fond. He reaches for you, smiling wide when you step into his embrace easily. Your arms wrap around his waist and he relaxes into your hold, nudging your temple with his nose. "Will ya marry me for real, then?"

"Of course I will, you dummy," you bury your face into his chest. Your voice comes out muffled. "But you owe me a million cuddles first."

"Wow, inflation's really hittin' hard," Soshiro murmurs, laughing when you roll your eyes and kiss him. It starts off as a sweet kiss until you fist the back of his shirt and a bolt of heat sweeps through him. "Can I start payin' up now?"

"Yeah," you breathe, tugging him over to your bed and pulling you both down onto it. Soshiro huffs as he lands on top of you, the sweet scent of you puffing up from your blankets and pillows. "Kiss me, Soshiro."

The way you gasp his name does nothing to ease the lust clouding his veins, but Soshiro has enough presence of mind to obey, kissing you deeply as he pins you to your bed. He keeps one arm by your shoulder to prop himself up, but his other hand is free to roam your body, squeezing your tits and digging into the curve of your waist, dragging the silky fabric of your dress up to your hips. You're tugging at his clothes desperately, popping open buttons and untucking his shirt, but you keep kissing him all the while, as if you can't bear to part with his lips even for a moment.

"You're so gorgeous like this," Soshiro mutters, groaning when you palm his cock over his unbuckled pants. He throbs concerningly in your grip and he huffs a laugh into your neck. "I'm — I'm fuckin' sensitive, honey, hold on —"

"Get inside me quick, then," you murmur, shimmying out of your panties and dragging your dress off. Your bra goes flying off as well, leaving you naked beneath him like the finest feast in the world.

Soshiro pulls off his own clothes but doesn't enter you right away, determined to worship you the way you deserve when you're laid out like this for him. You gasp as he sucks and nips at your neck, arching into his touch as one large hand grips your breast. You squirm when he trails down to flick his tongue against your neglected nipple, kneading the flesh with his hand and switching sides just to suck hard at the other bud. "S-Soshiro you jerk—"

He laughs fondly as he kisses down your tummy, biting affectionately at your hip bone just to feel you twitch. His hands smooth over your thighs before he spreads them apart, scooting down the bed to settle between your legs. "You're so wet already," he says reverently, "is this all for me?"

"Please, Soshiro — ah!"

Soshiro slides two fingers into your wet, slippery heat without preamble, groaning as your walls clamp down on him. He sucks at the inner meat of your thigh as you rock your hips, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out and pressing into the spongy bit of your walls that makes you gush even more down his wrist. He laves attention to your other thigh as well, littering love bites all along your sensitive skin but avoiding where you want him most.

"Are ya close?" he asks, watching intently as you fuck yourself on his fingers. He adds another just to hear you whine, the sound going straight to his cock as his balls tighten. You look so pretty like this, desperate and hot, squirming on the bed as you chase your pleasure with his help.

You catch his gaze and he groans, scrambling up to kiss you hungrily. You moan into his mouth, tongue swiping along his own as your hands leave the bedsheets to dig into his shoulders. "Soshiro, please —"

"My gorgeous, perfect fuckin' girl," Soshiro grunts, removing his fingers from your tight hot cunt and replacing them with the head of his cock. He's leaking at the tip, throbbing and heavy, and you whine as he catches at your clit. "I'm gonna marry ya," he promises, moving his hips carefully as he enters you slowly.

"I love you," you whisper, blinking starry eyes at him as he bottoms out with a moan. Unfair tactics — you've got his heart rate flying off the charts, his entire body warm and tense with adoration and desire as he slowly pulls out just to bully his way back inside you.

"I love you, too," Soshiro says, fucking into you carefully so that he's nudging that spot inside you that makes you clench harder around him. "I'm gonna — gonna make ya happy. And proud and — I'm gonna keep ya safe."

"Soshiro, you're gonna make me cum," you gasp, giggling a little deliriously as your nails dig into his back. You wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer, and something about that makes his body run white hot. "F-fuck, Soshiro — I'm — !"

He cums first, his cock kicking and throbbing inside you as you fall headfirst into your orgasm, bodies shuddering and releasing in unison. Soshiro buries his face in your neck, biting down as he groans, relief crashing through his body as he floods your insides with white.

"I fuckin' love you," Soshiro says, peppering your face with kisses as you pant breathlessly. You giggle and run your fingers through his hair, the sweaty purple strands sticking up as you mess with it.

"You're an idiot if you think I'll ever stop loving you," you say softly. Soshiro meets your fond gaze and smiles.

"First ya call me an idiot, then a dummy and a jerk," he says, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say ya need some new nicknames for your fiancé."

"Hmm, I'll think about it," you laugh.

The two of you stay holed up in your room for the rest of the day, eating the snacks you have stashed around and talking and dreaming and making plans for the future. Soshiro's heart does a traitorous little flutter when you ask him to make love to you a few more times — because it is love, and it's still dirty and hot and you make him cum so hard he goes boneless, but there's love there, as always.

Soshiro wakes up the next morning with a handful of something soft.

"Soshiro… I'll kick you off this bed."

He snickers into the nape of your neck and removes his hand from your breast after giving it a gentle squeeze. You turn to face him, shoving your bare legs against his, and reach to grab his hand. The morning light is seeping in through your blinds slowly, but it still catches on the pretty purple gem and the shiny silver of your engagement ring as you hold your entwined hands up.

"G'mornin', fiancée," Soshiro murmurs. You drop his hand in favor of running your fingers through his hair.

"Good morning, my love."

[plagalkey]

my lovely talented friend wrote an F1 AU fic focused on oikage's time at red bull racing!!!

[seaghosst]

i don’t know why i’m on my underdeveloped au bullshit today but i am. wojira duo roadtrip

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

The Literal Phantom of the Opera (DpxDc prompt)

When Cassandra Cain first began taking ballet, her fellow dancers quickly warned her about the ghost haunting the theater.

"He likes to watch us. I see him looking down at the stage from the catwalk all the time."

"It looks like he stole one of the Phantom of the Opera masks last time a tour came through, but its been covered in stars!"

"I heard him when I was acting in Wicked. I was alone in the green room doing some last minute practice and I swear he was humming along while I was singing!"

"It was the phantom who stole my makeup from my dressing room I just know it!"

"Haley from front of house didn't believe he existed until they came backstage to grab supplies for seat repairs. I don't know what they saw, but now they refuse to go backstage."

"That ghost is evil. It pushed me down the stairs to the office and I tore my suit on the railing. Do you know how hard it is to find an all white suit on short notice? I'm lucky it didn't break my ankle!"

"We used to have balconies before the renovations. Sometimes it sounds like someone is moving inside the walls where they used to be."

"I'm not sure that the ghost is fully aware we're performers. A few years ago when Heathers was here, the actress for McNamara said that it felt like someone was hugging her after Lifeboat."

"I've seen him without the mask. His face looks like it was just... shredded. I only saw it once, but I'll never forget that face."

"I heard that he likes to mess with the equipment in the control booth."

Cass isn't sure that the ghost is real, but she is sure that the other dancers think he's real. They often gossip about the theater ghost in hushed whispers, knocking on wood at the very mention of him. Her teachers prefer not to talk about the ghost at all, but they don't deny its existence.

It's not until she is practicing alone on stage and feels eyes on her that she thinks there might be something to the ghost rumors.

[playingwithyourjigglypuff]

[doodlesforfics]

Who’s Old Now? by @lirabuswavi​ (um i hope i tagged the right person, cause like im 80% sure you are same ao3 lirabuswavi, if not im sorry <;D)

ok this one-shot literally opened my eyes to sheer chaos possibility of Adult!Fenton adopting kid Billy B. while Teenager!Phantom being mistaken as Shazam’s ward and just ladskjsdk??? superhero/magic/ghost community would not be prepared. amazing fic. such fun.

and some doodles inspired by the fic

let lil Billy have retired ghost superhero possibly eldritch overpowered being Phantom as protective Dad.

[insanitysilver]

AO3 Tastemaker Game

You? You're an individual. You're a reader and a forager with fine tastes. You're not afraid to wade into the deep end. Browse the dustiest aisles. Get in the vents. Come, pan for gold with me in the far reaches. The game goes like this:

On AO3, navigate to your pairing/fandom of choice

Apply your standard filters

In the 'Search Within Results' field, paste this: kudos<100 comments<5 bookmarks<5 hits<500 sort:>updated

Press the 'Sort & Filter' button

Read down the line until you find something you like

Comment, bookmark, and mark it as a recommendation

For the ultimate connoisseur: Bonus Points - share your new rec off-site Hard Mode - kudos<12 comments<1 bookmarks<1 hits<395 sort:>updated

[cosmic-seer]

B E H O L D!

Companions to this and this, insPIRED BY THIS [written by @dipplinduo, go read it it’s got me down bad].

[izzystizzys]

When the 212th collaborates with the 501st, chaos is sure to follow in their footsteps. This has been largely true of every engagement since the start of the war, in Cody’s experience. Had he even an ounce more of a rebellious streak, he might question why and whether the success rate is worth the feral instinct for mayhem his battalion and Rex’ awaken in each other - as it is, he simply fills out the after action reports and then screams into his pillow, which is hard as durasteel and doesn’t warrant the name.

Or, on some days, he steps into the training rooms to work off some nervous jitters only for his foot to catch on someone’s armoured shoulder and faceplant straight into what looks like the entirety of both battalions piled together in a massive cuddle pile.

“What”, he manages between gritted teeth, heaving himself up with one hand supported on Crys’ arm and the other planted in places that make Boil jackknife up with a strangled yelp, “the kriff is this?!”

“We’re watching the Corrie Reality Special, sir”, his own voice calls from somewhere across the room. “The 91st is passing by, so we have satellite access to the Coruscant Broadcast network for a few hours, and we couldn’t settle on a specific show -“

“- so we decided to watch them all”, Rex finishes, sheepishly, where he’s fought his way through wiggling piles, hoots and badly imitated monkey lizard noises. The thought that he shares DNA with these degenerates is enough to drive Cody to the brink of a nervous breakdown some days. “Spopcorn?”

Ah. The Corrie Reality Circuit. When Cody first heard of it, he’d thought it was a prank. Then, they were deployed to the middle of bumkriff nowhere on the edges of Midrim space edging on Outer Rim, with a connection so spotty even classified military intel only got through about half the time, and the whole idea got shelved in favour of clankers and keeping his General’s lightsaber in his General’s hand where it belonged.

Now, a gaudy, glittery monstrosity of a logo announcing a Coruscant Rotational special appears on a rigged up screen, which means one of two things: either Fox is pulling the Galaxy’s greatest long con on all of them, or he’s been murdered and replaced with an evil clone (ha!), because there are no circumstances in which he would agree to star on Coruscant Reality TV.

Cody tilts his head consideringly. Rex smiles at him sheepishly. Tilts the spopcorn bowl at him, invitingly.

“Oh, dank farrik, sit your shebs down!”, someone (Fives, probably) yells out, fed-up…ly.

Cody sits his shebs down.

“Good morning and welcome all of Coruscant to the Great Coruscant Rotational Special: Our Boys in Red Edition!”, a bright red Twi’leki man announces on the screen amidst cheerful jizz music and loud hooting from the training room. “My name is Braham Horton, and I will be your exalted host for this fine, fine late night cycle!”

“And now, gentlebeings of the metropolis, I present to you the images that have driven us all to laughter, joy, and even tears at times over these past few weeks - whodathunkit, that the CSF media project would enthrall a whole Galaxy of viewers and cause the largest recorded peaceful civil protest of all time?!”

“The sorry what now”, says Cody, suddenly thinking back to the urgent meeting General Kenobi was currently in with Generals Windu and Yoda - passing by on the Venator in orbit. “Uhm”, says Rex. Braham Horton, unfazed by the commotion he’s causing lightyears away, chatters on.

“- many hours, so we’ve compiled an introductory little best-of for you, exalted viewers! And what better best of to start off on than the hottest entry of the most explosive bombshell into the villa - please give it up for Commander Thorn and how he stole all of our hearts on Love Island!”

A garish, club-tech jingle Cody has so far only heard buzz through the walls of establishments that generally didn’t allow clones thrums through the training room, followed by what can only be described as the sort of noises spiced up banthas might make. Thorn appears on screen, more oiled up and half-naked than Cody remembers, though just as bleach-blond, hair slightly longer than regulation and smile blindingly perfect.

“I’m Commander Thorn, baseline twenty-four years humanoid - during daytime I might be the scourge of Coruscant’s criminal underworld, but at night I don’t mind playing good cop for you!” He punctuates it woth a sleazy wink and fingerblasters that have Rex honest-to-god gagging, and Cody seeing his life flash before his eyes. If Alpha-17 finds out about this…

Suddenly, Thorn’s smile drops in favour of what might almost be called a scowl on even his handsome face, and the music cuts out. “There, got your soundbyte. Can I go back now? I’m supposed to be on shift.” Indistinct, off-screen chatter and a captioned oopsie… appear in a shower of glitter. Thorn’s face does something complicated. “For HOW MANY MONTHS?!”

Cut to a montage of what Cody can only describe as beaches, oil and abs galore, Braham Horton narrates and extremely close-up shot of what Cody tries very hard not to identify as Thorn’s crotch. His own crotch, in a way. Oh no, that’s weird, stop that train of thought immediately-

“Although our favourite bombshell’s entry into the villa wasn’t without its hitches and hurdles-“, emphasized by a zoom-in on Thorn’s form in a speedo huddled away from a partying crowd of softcore-kriffing contestants on a yacht, “- as well as all know, he would soon find his place in the villa - or places, rather!”

Two crying humanoid women appear on screen, with eyeliner smudges down to their knees. A hoot goes through the room. Cody watches with a sense of impeding doom. “You slept with her after I chose to match up with you instead of Chad?! How could you!”

Thorn, still oiled up with both blasters out for the world to see, winces. “I didn’t me-“

A hysterical gasp, a camera swerve. Three more people stand by the doorway, all clutching their chests with wide eyes. A broad, green Twi’leki man raises a finger to point accusingly. “You were sleeping with them too?! I thought I was the only one!”

“Dear Force”, Cody murmurs, unable to look away from the building speeder wreck on screen. Braham Horton laughs good-naturedly at his misery. “Ah, good times! And who could forget the all-out brawl of the following matching night, where a record number of every single other contestant attempted to physically fight the others for the right to match up with Commander Thorn! Including a somehow returned Chad, who nearly won thanks to the element of surprise. I wish we could show the footage, but then we’d have to slap several warnings on it and probably still get taken off the air.”

“I didn’t know Corries kriffed like that!”, someone (Fives, let’s be honest, it was definitely Fives) calls out into the room, receiving snickers and a well-aimed pillow to the throat for his trouble. He goes down with a choking scream.

“Someone who was less impressed by the hot’n bothered beach weather was Commander Thire, who found himself Less than Impressed by his co-contestants inability to keep it in their pants on Too Hot To Handle!”

Thire’s face, identical to Thorn’s in every way except the ones that matter, appears on screen. His black hair is cut in a cropped mohawk, arms folded over a button-up he’s carefully pieced together with… safety pins? Where are the buttons on it?

“These people are pathological and pathetic and I will spend not a second longer on this farce of an attempt at ‘entertainment show’”, says Thire, air-quotes so sharp they could cut stone. His scowl might be permanently etched into his face, Cody can’t tell. “Unlike literally everyone else, I have an actual job to do. Now move.”

A brief pause, in which cheerful jizz music plays over what is obviously a producer begging off-camera, followed by an eyeroll so hard it hurts Cody’s brain to watch. Thire throws his hands into the air in defeat, marching off into the sea behind him still fully clothed.

“When they didn’t find him until the last episode, I’ll admit, I thought he’d died too!”, Braham Horton cuts in cheerfully. “But would you look at his little lonely island lair - now that’s a fulfilled man, and too many coconuts for my taste! We’ve had to blur his hands out as he discovered the cameras just moments before these holos were taken, unfortunately. And, dear viewer, who could forget this exit-interview for the ages!”

A considerably more clothed Thire appears on screen, eyeing a microphone like he’s about to use it to stab out his own eyes. The reporter clears their throat in audible anxiety. “C-commander, how would you describe your reality experience in one word?”

“Demeaning”, says Thire, blandly.

Silence.

“Um, o-okay”, squeaks the reporter.

“Would you like some more words?”, asks a dead-eyed Thire.

“No, um, I think - I think we’re alright.”

“Because I have many words. Mostly for whoever the *bleep* thought this was a *bleep* good idea, and *bleeeeeeee-*”

“We’ve had to censor most of the Commander’s on-screen appearance, dear viewer, for your sensibilities”, says Braham Horton, eternally and painfully cheerful. “And speaking of sensibilities, who could forget Commander Stone honouring his name in several challenges on ‘I’m A Holostar - Get Me Out Of Here!’”

Soulful violin music fills the gym, overlaid with images of a bald vod Cody surmises must be Stone. Stone stares stonily into the void, glass of bright green something raised to his lips and already half-empty.

“Memorably, he downed a pint of acklay urine within seconds-“

Horrified screams are followed by an image of Stone chewing, yet another thousand-klick stare.

“- or when he ate Tauntaun anus -“

Rex doubles over gagging, and Cody slowly puts his handful of Spopcorn back down.

“- of course the ten minute worm-bath challenge cannot go unmentioned -“

“FORCE PLEASE NO!”, screams someone (Echo) tearfully. Commander Stone, buried to the chin in wiggling orange worms, looks less impressed.

“ - and who could forget his encounter with a horde of ginntho spiders and nests of vexis snakes!”

A remote goes sailing past the screen, missing by a mile, as images of Stone with his whole arm stuck in various boxes fly past. Someone is retching. It might be Cody.

“We would show the infamous butchery challenge wherein the Commander found himself drenched in nexu guts and sandworm brains, but once again, this is family friendly programming and we are not allowed. Nevertheless, a win well-deserved. And now, please welcome the one, the only, the awe-inspiring, the unbelievable: Marshall Commander Fox!”

Another Force-awful jingle, big, blocky letters, and Cody chokes on his own spit when Fox’s scowling face appears on screen. He’s thinner, greyer and angrier than the last time they saw eachother in person. Only the last one is really a surprise.

“I am neither naked nor afraid”, says Fox, arms crossed firmly, foot tapping impatiently on the ground. “I am, however, quickly losing my patience. Explain to me again the point of spending my valuable time undressing in the middle of bum-*bleep* nowhere on the Midrim instead of doing my job as the head of planetary security in the middle of a Galaxy-wide war?”

Several beats of silence follow. Fox grows less impressed with each. Cody knows that look well. Usually, it precedes handcuffs and a cold sonic blast to the face.

“Um… you signed a contract?”, says a producer’s voice uncertainly off-screen. Fox barks out a harsh laugh. “I’m legally classified as military property, my signature holds less weight than if I’d had one of the Guard’s massiffs shit on that contract for me.”

“Ouch!”, calls Crys.

“Gettim!”, adds Longshot.

“But… don’t you sign off military documents all the time for the Senate?”, sputters the producer.

Fox smiles with far to many teeth. It’s also a look Cody knows far too well, and even lightyears away it has a shudder going down his spine.

“Really makes you think about the technicalities of that definitely-not-slave-army, doesn’t it?”, he says, dryly.

“Although considerably less naked and afraid than all other contestants, Commander Fox left us with many memorable moments - such as when he saved the entire crew from an angry Acklay!”

Most of the next holovid is blurred out, though Cody can (unfortunately) guess at the why and how. So can most everyone else, judging by the collective groan.

“Down, boy”, says Fox, flatly, to a hissing Acklay twice his size. It rears its fanged head, and a shudder goes through the room. Fox simply crosses his arms and nails the beast with an unimpressed look. “You are making a fool of both of us. Cut it out.”

Chastised, the Acklay blinks at him, slowly lowering itself back down with a confused hiss.

“No kriffing wonder all the Corrie shinies are such hardasses”, mutters Rex, whom Cody is hard pressed to agree with. “I came from a tube and that look gave me daddy issues.”

“Yes, dear viewer, who could forget these heart-warming moments of good, quality television!”, sighs Braham Horton, dreamily. “Not Coruscant anytime soon, that’s for sure! We are now entering the twentieth rotation of the sit-in protest of a petition to allow the Commanders of the Coruscant Guard to compete on Dancing With The Planets, Coruscant Rotational’s epic dance competition!”

“Dear bum-kriffing Force”, whispers Rex, wide-eyed and awe-struck. “Does Fox know about this?!”

Cody, who’s already dialing the kriffer’s comm-code, wipes a singular tear from his eye. “Not a clue, but kriff, am I going to enjoy telling him.”

[theminecraftbee]

Joel turns around. Martyn is standing there. His eyes are a burning red that gives Joel the heebie-jeebies. If anyone would know to be scared, it's Joel! He would! He'd recognize a mad dog if he saw one anywhere!

Anyway, all of that is to say that his high-pitched scream had been totally justified. "Oh my word Martyn what are you doing here?" he says, clutching his hand over his heart, several feet further back than he'd been thirty seconds ago.

Martyn snorts. "Is the sign not for me? Figured there was no one else it could be for."

"The what?"

"The sign."

Joel turns around. Outside his base, the other Mounders have hung a helpful banner: "SORRY EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS DEAD <3".

He'd told them it was kind of rude, hanging that up. Sort of made light of the whole thing, really. His wife and Mumbo and Jimmy had died, guys, don't be idiots about it. Bdubs had loudly told him that he was TRYING to be helpful, Joel, geez, why don't you appreciate his efforts? Pearl had shrugged and said they don't exactly make cards for this kind of thing. Joel's pretty sure they do, actually but...

Sorry everyone you love is dead. Hah.

"My wife is dead, Martyn," Joel says.

"Who, Lizzie or Jimmy?" Martyn says, weirdly dark. "Anyway, my husband's dead, so--"

"Your what?"

"Mumbo and I got married one time. Everyone forgets that for some reason."

Joel has to think about it a while. "Huh."

"Yeah. Anyway, you've still got the other Mounders, huh? Don't know what you're crying about. Thought the sign had to be for me. Thought I'd show up. Get cake. Kill some people. You know how it is."

"If there's a TNT minecart in my base, the first thing I do after I turn red is kill you," Joel says.

"That's not really how it works this time," Martyn says.

"Yeah, well, screw you," Joel says. "Also, they didn't make me any cake. I should ask them for that next. Hah. A cake."

"You know, maybe don't ask for that? Parties tend to go wrong in this game."

"And who's fault is that, huh?"

"Hey, don't look at me! Or, do. Since I'm going to kill everyone, on account of everyone I love being dead and all. Really convenient excuse for murder, that. I should use it more often, if it didn't involve the crippling grief," Martyn says.

"Oh, please. At least you tend to have people to love in the first place," Joel snaps.

"Oh, right, that is your curse, isn't it?" Martyn says. "Sorta broke it last time, but you do tend to get isolated and a bit crazy. Hey, I wonder if we're the ones who traded, actually what with the whole wolf thing."

Joel blinks. "What?"

"Oh, we're all cursed," Martyn says. "After all, They like it better that way. Hey, do you think Jimmy's curse transferred to Lizzie, got cancelled out by the fact Lizzie tends to die stupidly, or got broken? Personally, I'm thinking random fluke, when it comes to canary nonsense."

Joel stares at Martyn. His throat is dry. "What?"

Martyn stares back. "Hey, I'm the mad dog this time," Martyn says. "You probably shouldn't be the one growling."

"Well then, you should stop saying stupid shit," Joel says.

"Stupid? Please. It's obvious everyone is cursed. Nothing to be done about it but to play into the--"

"NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED," Joel shouts, his vision suddenly red and blurry in a way it shouldn't be when he's still on yellow. "NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED. THERE'S NO SUCH THING! YOU'RE JUST, JUST MAKIN' UP REASONS IT ISN'T ALL A TRAGEDY THAT EVERYONE I LOVE IS FUCKING DEAD, MAKING UP REASONS THAT IT--NO ONE IS CURSED! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST FUCKING HAPPENS! AND WOULDN'T IT BE BLUMIN' NICE IF THERE WERE A HIGHER POWER BUT THERE ISN'T SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT CURSES!"

He's panting. Martyn is staring at him. He stares back, a snarl on his teeth, the echoes of wolves and of grief, grief, grief, grief playing at the back of his throat.

"Joel?" Martyn says, hesitant.

"My wife is fucking dead. My best friend is fucking dead. One of my new possible best friends is fucking dead. Sorry about your husband, I guess? Get out."

"Bold thing to say to the guy who can kill--"

"I SAID GET OUT!"

Martyn stares at Joel a moment longer, and Joel finds he's not scared of the madness in his eyes at all.

Martyn leaves.

Joel realizes he's crying. The tears turn into giant, ugly sobs. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead.

"I blumin' hate caring about people," he says to no one at all through choked breaths, and he kicks a rock at the banner for good measure. It pokes a little hole through it and bounces off the dick-shaped tower behind it.

"Someone really should have made both of us a blumin' cake, they should," he says next, and he sits down until Pearl runs over, having heard the shouting. His face is red and his vision is still swimming. She stares at him, gathers him in her arms, and cries with him, and for the life of him, he doesn't know if that's any better.

[aerequets]

one of my twiyor hcs is that prpr (post reveal pre relationship), loid will braid yor's hair as a form of physical intimacy without actually touching her

[thefloatingwriter]

if you’re not writing beetee as morally gray you’re not writing him correctly.