#to get to that level they needed to be good shows so they would be able to connect to fans in that way

[descendant-of-truth]

That said, I do think that Shadow Generations being such a more carefully cultivated exploration of Shadow's past compared to what the original Generations was for Sonic is... not doing Sonic himself any favors

General audiences are already kind of under the impression that Sonic as a character is fundamentally not that deep or interesting, and Generations was written during a time that really, really wanted to prove that notion right. Sonic "being deep" was what, seemingly, caused so much critical backlash, so to counteract that, they gave us the blandest cutscenes Sonic has ever had the displeasure of being in.

But that's not really what Sega is trying to push for, now. Frontiers wanted to be more serious, with a mature, down-to-earth Sonic. The movies gave him an origin story that inherently makes him a lot more complicated than usual. Prime put the focus on his emotions and gave him a character arc that lasted the whole show. The IDW comics can get extremely serious, and we're treated to Sonic's inner monologue as he wrestles with difficult choices. They clearly want Sonic as a character to be interesting to people, not just a vehicle for action and quips.

But putting the old Sonic Generations in the same package as the new Shadow Generations is inherently portraying them as equivalent experiences. When Sonic explores his past, it's no big deal - just another day on the hero job! Absolutely nothing worth exploring on his end when it comes to meeting his past self and revisiting his memories! Nope! No need to use time travel as a way to explore his core values as a person who prefers to live in the moment and not be bound by his past, no siree!

Oh, but Shadow? Now that's the actually interesting character! Revisiting Shadow's past is such an exciting event that it requires the whole year to hype up, and Sonic's just so boring in comparison, isn't he? Who really cares about Sonic beyond his surface-level characteristics anyway, right? The Sonic Generations remaster is more of an accessory to what's essentially Shadow the Hedgehog 2 at this point, and that bothers me.

Sure, Sonic doesn't have "a backstory" like Shadow does. But the past that we explore in Sonic Generations isn't his literal origins, but all the adventures we went on with him. Imagine how much depth you could wring out of him if you just took those events as being legitimate parts of his life that he has feelings on! Feelings we could explore!

But because it's a remaster instead of a full-blown remake, all of this effort they're putting into Shadow's campaign is nowhere to be seen in Sonic's. Can you imagine how good of a package deal this would be if Sonic's character was given this much care and respect, too? Like, we have two Sonics, but Shadow is getting more than double the favoritism.

And the fact that this is only going to continue to push the idea that Sonic is just. incapable of being interesting, or even really affected by what happens around him is really frustrating. We already have the movies and Prime drastically changing his demeanor and core traits for the sake of making him "able" to have character development, and as much as I love those versions as characters, it's really doing a disservice to who Sonic is supposed to be.

The last thing we need is for Generations to come out again and make the Sonic from the games seem like the least interesting version of him. Bringing Shadow up should not involve dragging Sonic down - they're supposed to be equals. But this game doesn't seem to be showcasing that very well, on account of essentially being two games written by different people haphazardly mashed together.

People being introduced to the series through this game are going to have such a skewed perception of what Sonic is like as a person, as well as what he's like compared to Shadow, and that just. makes me kinda upset not gonna lie

[mysterywriter2187]

Transformers: One - What's In A Kneel?

!!!!!MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!

With the responsibility of leadership and the dangers of pedestals and hero worship being such major themes, it only makes sense that all three of the film's leaders would show their true characters, and in doing so seal their fates, in moments where they have to kneel/bow.

Sentinel Prime essentially sets the entire second half of the film in motion when both the heroes and we as the viewer see him kneel to the Quintessons. It confirms everything that Alpha Trion was just telling them/us about him, and it's also the very thing that ends up getting broadcast to Iacon in order to finally expose Sentinel and turn the public against their False Prime.

For all his superficial charisma and his talk of looking out for the little guys, Sentinel himself is truly nothing more than a self-centred, spineless coward, who couldn't care less for the needs of the many and gladly bends to the will of bigger bullies/oppressors in order to keep himself in power.

After learning of Sentinel's betrayal and being subsequently captured with the High Guard, D-16 makes a point to stand while in custody and adamantly refuses to kneel. Even when Sentinel begins beating and torturing him, D-16 makes it abundantly clear that he has no intention of bowing to him or anyone else ever again.

In better circumstances this could be a heroic trait, a courageous defiance and the willingness to stand up in the face of injustice. But it just as becomes a negative one, and it's one of the last warning signs to the kind of leader that Megatron is going to be.

He may have started out with good and heroic intentions, but because of this Megatron sees himself as superior, and whether by choice or by force, he expects his fellow Cybetronians to rally behind him just as they did with Sentinel. While he sees himself as a revolutionary, in the end he's just going to become another tyrant.

And then we have Orion Pax. For much of the film, he's a far cry from the noble, legendary leader that we know and love from other iterations, but he starts to grow into it as he devises the rescue mission, and is tasked with rallying his fellow miners to help.

Having gotten a major upgrade since the last time he saw them, Orion now towers over his former peers and they're utterly awed by the sight of him. Rather than trying to take advantage of their admiration or even intimidate them with his new size and strength, Orion almost seems frustrated by the new height difference, and before beginning his speech he kneels down to literally speak to them on their level.

Orion doesn't make a point to do this, no one has to ask or prompt him to, in fact he himself doesn't even give that much thought to it, it's just his first instinct for how to best communicate. He may look larger and stronger now, but he still values the miners as his friends and his equals, and nothing is ever going to change that.

Gaining the Matrix later on may have gotten him the name, but it's this moment when Orion truly begins to embody the true core and heart of Optimus Prime. Powerful and inspiring, yet humble and caring. Or perhaps, as the legendary Peter Cullen himself has always said:

"Strong enough to be gentle."

[lexithwrites]

Please more sugardaddy moonwater hcs. Pls!!

this might get long sorry (but this is kinda what i wanna write next so pls give me feedback) xoxo

they met through a sugar daddy website that james showed to remus one night (he's on it and is absolutely not telling him that he's met a guy)

remus is so embarrassed at first, he was on tinder like twice and had bad dates because of it so he isn't exactly confident this will work but he does get a lot of attention

he gets messages from kinda old guys, and a few older women, that are either way too pushy with what they want in return for an 'allowance' or just kinda creepy and he almost deletes it

then he gets a message off of someone young, maybe his age, and he's gorgeous

remus is so sure its a scam, no one can look that good and be on an app like this but he messages them anyway when they say hi first, and he asks about them and the guy is regulus arcturus black (he gives his full name, he's a loser) and he's literally just looking for company and someone to spend money on, nothing in return, he doesn't need it

remus is kinda shook because like what?? how is this guy lonely he must have friends but turns out regulus just has rich friends that can buy their own things, he doesn't have anyone to spend time with other than when he goes to family events which he hates

and remus is like okay,,,,maybe drinks first and regulus sends him the location of probably the nicest bar in london and remus is close to passing out because he cannot afford this at all but he said he'd go

he wears his nicest outfit (its a brown jumper and some nice trousers and his converse, he cant afford anything else rn because his cat started a hunger strike against the food he's had for a year and remus had to upgrade, kids eh?)

regulus is already there because he is never a minute late, and checking his rolex thinking he's been stood up but remus runs in like 'hi im so sorry i missed the train hi' and regulus is in love already, just straight up his heart starts hammering in his chest because not only is remus gorgeous in a weird, dorky way but he's just...he's adorable

regulus is calm tho, think levi ackerman levels of expression, he just kinda sits there arms folded and asks remus questions about his life and what he would like as an allowance and remus is just,,,confused?

he asks why regulus wants to spend his money on him and regulus insists he's bored (he's so fucking lonely and wants someone around him to dote on) and just needs a date to events as his parents are giving him shit for being single at 26

remus is unsure but decides fuck it, james can probably throw hands if regulus tried anything, and they agree to attend some gala together for regulus' family and remus says he'll have to get new clothes and regulus then sets up a date the next day to buy him an outfit and its a lil montage of regulus giving remus clothes to try its very cute

and is remus confused and guilt ridden for this man spending money on him? yeah, duh, but also he doesn't have to pay his bills anymore, he has amazing clothes, his stress levels are so fucking low than before, and he likes regulus....he really really likes him

and regulus is getting what he wants, but also he has remus lupin as eye candy and that's an added bonus, and god remus is so adorable and nerdy and he wants to climb him like a tree

also yes remus sees james at the event and he's like what the fuck are you doing here and turns out james is with HIS sugar daddy, aka regulus' brother and its a whole ordeal

and maybe one night regulus invites remus to stay with him for the night because its too late to get the train and he doesn't really want to let remus go and maybe they drink wine and maybe they touch just to see what its like and maybe MAYBE they kiss and make out and fuck slow and deep and then AND THEN—

i might write more if people like this idk,,,,

[insomanic-fanfication]

Hey, I really liked your Dick Grayson sfw and nsfw alphabets! When you have the time, can I request either of those for Jason Todd? Thanks 😊

Jason Todd SFW Alphabet

Author's note: Of course! I planned on doing his anyway after finishing some of my drafts. But that's taking a little longer than I thought it would. CW:

Alphabet Under the cut!

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show it?

Jason isn't really affectionate, at least in open places. He's got way too many people wanting his head on a pike. Family and friends know you two are dating; however, if someone on the outside saw you two, they would have no idea. However, when you two are alone, his true colors bleed through. His personality is similar to that of a huge dog that hasn't figured out they can't be a lap dog anymore. Laying his head on your lap while you do your own things. He is reading a book, and you do one of your hobbies. Just decompressing from the day Comfortably in science and enjoying the other's presence. Will 100% fall asleep if you start playing with his hair.

Best Friend: What are they like as best friends? How would you become best friends?

Unless he needed to ask you for something, you would probably have had to make the first move toward friendship. Jason gets very lonely, but trying to meet new people on his own accord is not part of his personality. If he approached you, it would be one of two things; 1. You did something that impressed him, or 2. Dick was pestering him about meeting new people too much, and he caved to make Dick leave him alone.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they?

Jason hesitates to cuddle at first; it's not that he hates it, but more so, he fears it. For the most part, positive physical interaction is a foreign concept in his body. For the first few times he cuddles, he will flinch, and it doesn't matter which one of you enacted it. But once he gets to the point of cuddling, where you two can cuddle, he is relaxed? Your fate is sealed. You've created a monster! Anytime you're not busy in the apartment, it's cuddle time, and no protests are allowed. Will get pouty if you have to get up.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning?

Jason is one of the Batfam members who would settle down in a heartbeat, even if it's just for a year or two. He craves at least some normality. But if he does, no one can protect the ones he loves, at least not well, in his opinion. Unlike his brothers, Jason is an excellent cook and even a chef with his skills. One of his favorite early memories is helping and learning to cook with Alfred. He's also very good at cleaning, partly cause his spaces are the bare-bone things to live in. However, he likes to clean his apartment or space once weekly as a coping mechanism. It's something he feels he is in complete control over. However, if you find him randomly deep-cleaning a room or his apartment. BE AFRAID; he's not okay, no matter how often he tries to tell you he is alright. For him, that is grippy sock stay levels that are not okay.

Ending: If they had to break up? How would they?

Like Dick, if you two broke up and he was the one that broke it off, it was due to him having an episode. But unlike Dick, it would be out of paranoia. Jason would make himself believe that your life will be destroyed. or you'll die because you are dating him. He would most likely ghost you and not actually break up with you. Because the words would pain him too much to say out loud. Only coming to his senses after the episode has passed, realizing his actions, and imminently finding you in person, terrified he fucked up everything between you both.

Fiance: How do they feel about commitment? How long before they pop “the question”?

Jason didn't want marriage for a long while, too terrified that it would make something go wrong. However, the longer the relationship goes on, nothing terrible happens like he expected. The more the thought of marriage would come into his mind. Asking what your thoughts on marriage are one night while cuddling.

Gentle: How gentle are they? Both physically and Emotionally? 

Jason is incredibly gentle with his partners, partly due to his personality and partly because he fears accidentally hurting you. He's a little rough around the edges emotionally, though, mostly because he's not used to being a completely open book to people.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?

Jason hugs like a dad coming home after a long trip. He'll hug your waist and lift you, keeping you in his arms with the biggest smile. He'll kiss your forehead while you feel the warmth of his body around you.

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

Jason would be extremely slow to say the actual' I love you' wording, but he would make up for it in physical affection and words of affirmation. Holding you as close as he can while telling you how much you mean to him and how great of a partner you are to him. So, people may mistake it for love bombing, which added to his other behavior. But it's because it's so hard for him to verbally tell you he loves you. He feels he needs to say it to you in other words, so you know how much his heart bleeds for you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? What would they do?

Jason gets super jealous; he won't control who you talk to or anything like that. He knows you have a life outside your guy's relationship, and it's not his place to manage. But he's protective of you and gets jealous when others flirt with you because, in the back of his mind, it's hard for him to believe someone would date him. So he's worried that you'll find someone more accessible to love, and you'll give up on him. Does it sound balls off the wall crazy? Yes, but mental illness is rarely something that likes to make sense.

Kissing: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to be kissed/ kiss you? 

Jason loves it when you kiss places on him that are generally done on the submissive partner, such as his knuckles, neck, forehead, etc. He finds them so comforting and feels very loved.

Little ones: How are they around kids?

Jason is great around kids unless it's his brothers. Generally speaking, though, he's very good with kids. Sometimes, he understands what's okay for a kid or not. He'll let a toddler he's watching fidget with an unloaded gun if they are very interested in it. But he'll explain to the kid in terms they understand gun safety and how you know a gun is loaded or not. Telling the kid you never treat a gun like it's a toy. It is a 100% safe choice for a kid to go to if they can't find their parent.

Morning: How are they during the mornings?

He's a morning person but a lazy morning person. He'll wake up at 5-6 and do dishes, eat, and do morning stretches, but he will not do any actual work until around noon. God forbid the poor man has a morning shift, no matter what his day job is. He'll be the grumpiest man in the world, but he hides it well from clients/ customers. Some of his coworkers get very confused of this very quick change of mood, but others just see that, and think 'Same brick wall dude, Same'.

Nights: How are they spent with them?

He is a huge Night Owl, wither that be doing the bulk of his work at Night, or having a nice cuddle session with you while having a smoke on the fire escape of the apartment. He is a very light sleeper, or deep sleep with every hour or so waking back up. He also has a lot of night terrors, so he tends to avoid sleep, ESPECIALLY if you are staying over at his place. He has a lot of 'what if i hurt you..' paranoia.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves?

Try to get Jason to open up, is like trying to open a can with no can opener. You may have be in a relationship with him for 5 years, and still not know everything about him. Not because he doesn't trust you not to use that against him. But because he struggles with knowing WHEN to open up about things in a relationship. He wants to make sure your twos relationship is a healthy as it can be, which every now and then dose end up causing problems. Especially when he's having a ptsd episode and you feel helpless within how to help him through it.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

He tries to be a laid back person, tries to be, is the wording there, he doesn't have a hair thin trigger, but sometimes his trauma just gets triggers by something he doesn't even see the connection to, so he's in a pissed off fight response for a bit. He does, however go to anger management therapy to try and help these behavior issues. But somethings slip through the cracks before they can be brought up in therapy. This does not stop him from bragging to his siblings, that he's the only one taking care of his mental health.

Quizzes: They remember everything or nothing about you?

It's like a scale, sometimes he remembers everything, other times he can't remember your favorite hoodie, (it's the one that's been used as a pillowcase for 3 months, because he missed holding you). He can dissociate for a long awhile, but him also bottling up his emotions plays a bigger role in this.

Remember: What is their favorite memory in the relationship?

The first time you fell asleep while cuddling with him. You both were watching cheesy 90s slashers for Halloween night, snuggled in almost a cocoon of blankets and snacks. When he turned to check on why you had been so quiet, you had falling asleep while being snuggled so far into him, that he half expected for you to fuse into his side. The amount of trust you had for him, the emotions he felt was too much and he ended up crying for the first time in years. the tears feeling like they were burning his eyes, but it's still a memory he holds closest to his heart.

Security: How protective are they? How would you protect each other?

No matter what your appearance is, wither that be tall and lanky or short n stout. Jason tends not to need a lot of physical protection, but you are most defiantly the protector of his emotional peace and social battery. Think of it like a Pitbull done with his guarding of the house for the day, so runs to their favorite human to become the biggest cuddle bug on earth. That's Jason Todd, (He's very Resurce dog coded, don't blame me, blame DC). He very much, however, is scary looking guard dog for you. He could kill someone with his death glare sometimes.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, gifts, anniversaries, etc?

Jason puts an extreme amount of effort into your anniversaries, gifts and dates! He's not a social able person, so don't expect fancy Lucious dinner dates at a 5 star restaurant. They make him very uncomfortable, thinking everyone's eyes are on him. But he will make you the most romantic and gushy homemade dinners, your favorite flowers or candy. Cooking Red type pastas with red wine or cooking a Hispanic dish that learned while growing up around crime ally.

Ugly: What are some bad habits of theirs?

He has a bad habit of pushing you away, instead of telling you what's up. For better, or for worse. Sometimes it's because his crime lord days caught up to close to him, and for your safety he pushed you away. Or on the worse side of things, he's terrified you'll look at him as a monster or not understand where he's coming from with his trauma and his poor mental health, so he tries to keep them from you as long as possible, until he has no choice to tell you, or lose the relationship he has built with you.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

Honestly, Yes and no, like he cares about his looks more than a person would think, but like.. slightly more. He's not gonna shower every single day on the dot and shave his pubic hair into a sharp clean design. But he absolutely cares about keeping up good hygiene. Though he does have issues with cleaning his teeth, nothings rotting in there, but he is brushing his teeth waaay less than he really should be.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

No, unless you two date each other until your 4 years into retirement and you die of old age. He will be able to feel the same before you to started dating, because he feels incomplete on a regular basis. Like he isn't able to do enough, BE a enough for anyone to see him how he is as a person now.

Xtra: Random headcanon for them?

Jason use to smoke weed, especially in his teen years, regularly. But now he smokes cigs, problary Marlboro's or Lucky Strikes maybe Camels , and eats edibles every now and then to help with muscle pain and mood swings. (he still hasn't figure out if meds are worth not being able to have a beer whenever he wants.)

He knows he has PTSD, maybe C-PTSD, however he's not quite sure or not that he has BPD or a similar disorder, he's mainly just not internally ready to know the answer to that part of himself just yet. He's barely processed his feelings towards his Mother, so he's not there yet in his healing journey.

Yuck: What are some things they don’t like, in general, or in a partner?

if you have bad few of poor people or think poor people are only poor because they chose to be. Than I'm sorry, but Jason is more likely to pop a bullet in your head than he is to see you in a good light, let alone a romantic one.

Zzz: What is their sleeping habit?

Either waking up every 1 to 2 hours, or only sleeping 30mins to 3 hours and then staying up for the rest of the night or start cleaning or smoking a cig outside.

[goblinontour]

Alone, Together

cooking, eating, fucking

part 1

warnings: lawyer!alex, smut, just normal fucking, alex & his cocobolo (less this time, but still present)

word count: 7.2k

It was a rare occurrence that Alex was cooking. You perched on one of the bar stools at his island, watching him with an amused smile. The kitchen was immaculate, each appliance gleaming as if it had never seen anything but coffee and reheated takeout. Because, that was the reality. Today, though, there was something simmering in a pot that had your curiosity piqued.

“Is this a special occasion?” you called out, leaning back casually, arms crossed.

He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. “Nope…Maybe. Just thought I’d waste some time like a normal person.” he said, stirring the sauce with exaggerated motions. “Though honestly, I still think it’s a dumb idea.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You still think cooking is just a fancy way to waste time?”

He turned back to the pot, his shoulders relaxing as he stirred. “Exactly. Why spend an hour cooking just to spend another hour eating? I’d rather order in and only waste half of that time.”

“Right. You know, Alex, then you’re wasting someone else’s time cooking for you.” you pointed out. 

He chuckled, a warm sound that echoed in the space, and turned to you, eyebrow raised, as he set the spoon down momentarily. “But they’re getting paid for it, so it’s not wasting time. Simple economics, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Only you would make that argument.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “And only you would let me win it.”

“Or it just means you’re being lazy.” you countered, tilting your head playfully.

“Lazy? I like to call it efficiency. Lazy or efficient, you decide.” He shot you a grin before returning to the pot, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Speaking of efficiency, how’s the case with, uh, Henderson was it? How’s that going? Any breakthroughs?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Not as much as I’d like. He’s being uncooperative, as usual. I swear he enjoys dragging things out just to test my patience.”

Alex nodded. “Sounds about right. You should hit him with a motion. It might scare him into cooperating.”

“Yeah, maybe.” you replied, leaning forward. “But I don’t want to show all my cards too soon. Plus, I might need to save that for when he really pisses me off.”

He laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Just don’t let him get under your skin. You know how I feel about letting clients dictate the pace.”

“Right, right.” you said, smirking. “I remember that time you told a client they were being ‘insufferable’ during a meeting.”

He feigned innocence. “I was merely being honest! He needed to hear it.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Honesty doesn’t always get you a good outcome.”

“Maybe not, but it does feel fucking good in the moment.” he winked, his eyes sparkling. 

As he continued, you felt a sudden impulse to be closer. You stood up and moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He paused mid-stir, humming softly at your touch, leaning back slightly against you.

“Hey there.” he murmured, a hint of surprise in his voice. He left the whisk in the pot, placing his hands on top of yours, rubbing over your knuckles with a gentle rhythm. “What’s going on?”

“Just wanted to be close to you while you do…whatever this is.” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. 

He chuckled softly, glancing back at the sauce, steam curling up to meet his face. “It’s my attempt at culinary greatness. You know, a chef in the making.”

You snorted. “Sure, let’s go with that. I’ve seen you master a coffee maker, but cooking is a whole different level.”

He turned slightly, meeting your gaze with a teasing smile. “You underestimate my skills. I could be the next Iron Chef, is that what it’s called? Or, at the very least, I won’t set off the smoke alarm.”

You wrapped your arms a little tighter around him. “I have faith in you, sort of. What’s the secret ingredient, Chef?”

Alex glanced over his shoulder, a playful smirk on his face, his dark hair slightly tousled. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you, eh?” he quipped. “But it’s mostly just me hoping this doesn’t end up in the trash.” His expression turned slightly more serious as he leaned into your embrace. “So, are you gonna tell me what you wanted to share? Because I’m really hoping it’s what I think it is.”

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of your news settle in your stomach. “After dinner. I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

He sighed dramatically, though the twinkle in his eyes didn’t fade. “Fine, but you’re making me curious. It’s not like you to keep secrets.”

“Just focus on your culinary masterpiece.” you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder before stepping back to let him work.

He turned back to the pot, a contented smile still on his lips as he continued stirring. “I can do that. But you know I’ll be expecting the details afterward.”

“Deal.” you said, settling back into your stool, anticipation bubbling beneath the surface as you watched him move about the kitchen, an unexpected domesticity woven into his actions. 

Dinner was over. Alex had just set his fork down with a soft clink against the plate. He wiped his chin and mouth with his hand, trying to catch the little specks of sauce that clung to the stubble along his jaw. The sauce had smudged slightly, and the way his lips quirked up made it clear he didn’t care about perfection. Just getting the job done.

You were still finishing the last bite of his extremely mediocre spaghetti. Spaghetti you appreciated nonetheless, more for the effort than the execution. He wasn’t even pretending to wait for you to finish. His eyes were already on you, full of expectation, his fingers drumming lightly on the table.

You sighed, glancing up at him. “What?”

“Tell me.” he said, his voice soft but eager, as if he’d been holding back for the past half-hour and was finally letting it spill out.

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head with a half-smile. “My god, Turner, you’re like a child.”

“Come onnn.” he groaned, leaning forward a bit, his elbows resting on the edge of the table. “Please, tell me, tell me, tell me-”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll tell you.” you interrupted, laughing as you set your fork down in the almost-empty plate, still dotted with remnants of sauce. “Impatient as ever, I see.”

He grinned sheepishly, leaning back again in his chair, fingers still fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. His foot tapped lightly under the table, like he could barely contain himself.

“So,” you started, taking a breath, “about the firm-”

“Our firm?” he cut you off instantly, eyes bright with excitement.

“Yeah, our firm…” You paused for a moment, letting the words settle in the air between you. He was watching you so closely now, his brows furrowing just a little as if trying to anticipate what you were going to say next. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to find the right way to put it. “So, I was thinking…what if it wasn’t ‘us’ but…‘you’ and ‘me’?”

His smile faltered for just a second, and he blinked, processing. “Go on.” he said, though there was a slight tightness in his voice, like he wasn’t sure where you were going.

“We find an office together.” you continued, choosing your words carefully, watching the way his fingers stilled on the napkin, his eyes fixed on yours. “We share rent, expenses, everything. But…I am me, attorney at law, and you are you, Alex Turner, attorney at law. Both free to practise as we see fit.”

His mouth twitched at the corners as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table, narrowing his eyes just a little, like he was trying to see the full picture. “Separate firms…under one roof?” he said slowly, tilting his head, brow furrowed.

“Yeah.” you nodded, gaining a bit of momentum. “Why not share a ride? You do things your way, and I do them mine. Not partners, exactly…”

“Solo practitioners…together.” he completed, his voice quiet, almost like he was speaking the idea into existence. He sat back again, running his fingers through his hair, ruffling it more. His lips parted, and for a moment he didn’t say anything, just stared at you with a half-lost expression, as if trying to see all the angles of this new idea you were offering him.

You bit your lip, waiting, your heart hammering just a little. “What do you think?” you asked softly, not sure how he would take it.

He stared at the table for a moment, his fingers drumming lightly again, then he exhaled a long breath. “I, uh-” He paused, looking up at you with a bit of that boyish uncertainty you didn’t see often. “I mean…yeah, I think it could work. I really do. But…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But?” you echoed, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

“I guess I always pictured us doing it together. Like, actually together, as partners. Officially. You know, Turner &…” He waved his hand in the air, as if searching for the name that belonged next to his. “I like the idea of having you with me.”

His eyes softened, that vulnerability creeping back in as he let his hand drop to his lap. He shifted slightly in his seat, his leg bouncing under the table in a nervous rhythm. 

“Look…” you said, leaning in, trying to ease the weight you could see settling in his features. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. I do. But I also want to be…me, you know? You run things your way, and I need to run things mine. No compromises. It doesn’t mean I don’t want us to be-” You stumbled, feeling the weight of what you were saying. “I mean, this way, we still have each other. We still share everything.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping for a second before finding yours again, that intensity returning. “Yeah, no, I get it. Really, I do. You just want-” He scratched his jaw, “You just want your space to work how you need to work. And we’d still be in the same place, so…yeah.”

You exhaled, relieved to see him processing, though the uncertainty still hung between you. “Exactly. We’d still be together. Just…independent too.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Leave it to you to make independence sound romantic.”

You smiled, the tension starting to ease from your shoulders. “Well, it kind of is, isn’t it?”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you with a glimmer of amusement. “Okay, fine. I see the appeal. Solo practitioners together.” His eyes flickered to yours again, more sure this time. “I can live with that.”

You smiled, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “Good. Because I really think this could work for us.”

He pushed his chair back slightly, standing up and moving around the table toward you. As he approached, he bent down, his hand resting on the back of your chair as he brought his face closer to yours. “You know what? I think we’re gonna be just fine.” He kissed you lightly, his lips still tasting faintly of the spaghetti sauce, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“An A for effort for the meal by the way.” you teased, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.

He grinned, his eyes warm and soft now, all traces of tension gone. “Next time, we order in.” He tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face, the flicker of excitement behind his eyes growing brighter. “Solo…together.” he repeated, testing the phrase out on his tongue like it was something new he hadn’t tasted before.

He took a step closer to you, his hands still on the back of your chair, but his voice was gaining momentum. “Solo together…That’s actually…perfect.” His eyes locked onto yours, lighting up with an energy you could feel sparking through the air between you.

You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, the idea catching fire. “No one stepping on anyone’s toes…” he continued, his voice rising in enthusiasm. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could get a word out, he grabbed your hand, pulling you up from the chair with surprising strength. “This is it!” He was grinning now, practically glowing, his excitement infectious as he tugged you toward him.

Before you knew it, you were up against him, your hands pressed against his chest. He didn’t stop there, though. In one swift movement, he lifted you up, his hands firm around your waist as he effortlessly placed you on the table. The cold surface under your thighs was a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating off him.

“Alex-” you started, a laugh escaping your lips, but he was already kissing you. His mouth crashed against yours, hungry, eager. You barely had time to process the intensity before he pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips.

“Solo…together.” he murmured between kisses, his hands now cupping your face as he pressed closer. “I love it.”

His breath was hot against your skin, each word punctuated by another kiss. You could feel the warmth of his stubble brushing your cheek as he moved from your lips to the side of your neck, his voice a low, breathless murmur. “We’d be our own bosses…No one telling us what to do…”

You gasped softly as his hands slid down your back, gripping you tighter, pulling you even closer to the edge of the table. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as his mouth found yours again.

“And-” another kiss, deeper this time, his hands roaming, the intensity between you building with every second, “we’d still get to come home to each other…Every single day.”

He pulled back just long enough to look into your eyes, his pupils dark, his face inches from yours, breathing hard. “Fuck, this is such a good idea.” His voice was rough, unrestrained. “No compromises, no pressure…but still together.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a breathless sound caught between the rapid beats of your heart. “I’m glad you like it.” you managed to get out, your voice shaky but full of warmth.

“Like it? I fucking love it.” he growled, his mouth finding yours again, more desperate now. His hands moved to your hips, gripping you firmly as he kissed you harder, his breath hot and ragged. 

You could feel the excitement vibrating through him, the way his body pressed against yours, each kiss deepening with the weight of his growing anticipation. “Solo practitioners…but always together.” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with something close to awe, like he couldn’t believe how perfectly the idea fit.

The table creaked beneath you as he leaned into you, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingers splayed against the small of your back. His kiss was urgent, full of need, like he couldn’t get enough of the idea, of you, of everything that was spilling out between you.

“We’re going to be unstoppable.” he whispered, his voice a low, husky rasp. “You…and me.”

Your head was spinning, your fingers digging into his shoulders, holding on as his kisses grew more fervent, more insistent. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you against him like he wanted to fuse you together. Every word he spoke between kisses buzzed with that same electric energy, his excitement fueling yours.

“We’re going to be so fucking good at this.” he said breathlessly, pulling back just enough to stare into your eyes. His gaze was intense, almost overwhelming in its rawness. “Just you and me…killing it, every single day.”

And before you could respond, his mouth was on yours again, his body pressed against you, leaving no space between you as his hands gripped your waist, lifting you slightly as if he was trying to get you closer, as if you weren’t already as close as you could be. 

Alex’s excitement grew like wildfire, his hands moving with purpose as he reached for the plates still scattered on the table. With a quick sweep, he pushed them to the side, the sound of ceramic sliding across the wood sharp in the air. You barely had time to react before he gently but firmly guided you down, your back hitting the surface of the table. His body hovered above you, his face inches from yours, eyes dark with hunger.

You felt the heat of him pressing against you, his hips grinding into your thigh, the hard outline of him unmistakable even through his clothes. His breath was ragged, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck as he groaned softly into you.

“You’re eager.” you managed to say. 

“You bet.” he whispered, a smile curling at the edge of his lips as he pressed his mouth to your neck, kissing his way down your body, even through the fabric of your shirt. His lips left a trail of heat as they moved lower. 

His hands slid over your hips, gripping you with a mix of tenderness and desperation, fingers brushing just under your shirt as he kissed his way further down your torso. His stubble grazed your skin as he paused at the hem of your jeans, his breath warm and steady against your stomach.

“Fuck- I wanna fuck you here.” he murmured, his voice thick with need. He pressed his face into your belly for a second, inhaling. “Can I fuck you here?” he asked, his voice low, rough, a plea that sounded more like a demand in its urgency. 

The question hung between you, his hands stilling on your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles against your skin as he waited for your answer, his eyes locked onto yours. His breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, his body tensed above you, ready to close the space between you in a heartbeat.

You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat as his gaze never wavered. “Yes.” you whispered, the word slipping out before you could second-guess it. 

His lips twitched into a grin, but it was hungry, almost feral. “God, you have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this.” he growled, kissing your stomach again, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. His hands were already moving, deftly undoing the button of your jeans, tugging them down your hips with a quickness that made your breath hitch.

As your jeans hit the floor, he kissed lower, over the curve of your hip, his hands kneading the flesh there before he pressed himself harder against your leg. You could feel him, all of him. 

He hovered over you again, eyes locked on yours as he nudged your legs apart with his knee. The friction between your bodies was maddening, and you could feel his impatience in every twitch of his muscles, every shallow breath. “I’ve wanted you like this, right here, all night. Now I'm just waiting until I’ll get you on my desk…in our office.” he whispered against your ear, his voice a low, hoarse rasp as he kissed along your jaw, his body pressed into yours so firmly you could barely breathe.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Your cocobolo?” you asked, the absurdity of him obsessing over his desk even now making you bite your lip.

He lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes, his expression full of dark amusement, a cocky grin spreading across his flushed face. “That’s right.” he murmured, his voice a low, sultry growl as he leaned closer, his mouth brushing yours with every word. “Fucking on my fucking cocobolo.”

The way he said it made you laugh softly, but before the sound could fully escape, he giggled, too, vibrating against your lips. It was that kind of infectious, unguarded laugh that made your chest warm, the kind of laugh that only Alex could pull off mid-seduction, somehow. 

His hands roamed over your body, tugging your shirt higher, fingers brushing your skin, sending sparks wherever he touched. He pulled back, just for a moment, his eyes flicking down your body, taking in every inch of you laid out beneath him. “Look at you…” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice low and reverent. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Without waiting, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he tugged it gently, making you gasp. His fingers slid down your sides, hooking under your underwear, dragging them down as he pushed you further back on the table, the edge digging into your back but you barely noticed, too focused on the way he was looking at you. 

His hands were on your thighs, spreading them further open, his mouth back on your neck, murmuring into your skin. “I need to feel you.” he whispered, his breath hot and ragged against your ear as he rubbed himself against you, his erection pressing hard into your thigh through his pants. “I need to be inside you…right now.”

His desperation was palpable, but there was something tender in the way his hands gripped you, in the way he kissed your collarbone. Alex’s breath came out in sharp, ragged gasps as his hands fumbled with his zipper, the sound of it cutting through the heavy tension between you. His eyes never left yours, as he freed himself, his cock hard and straining in his hand. There was no hesitation, no teasing now. Just pure urgency.

He pushed your legs further apart, the rough edge of the table biting into your skin as he positioned himself between your thighs. And then, he was inside you. The force of it knocked the air from your lungs, his cock filling you completely, stretching you in a way that sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through you. You gasped, hands flying to grip the edge of the table as it wobbled beneath you, creaking under the weight of his movements.

He didn’t hold back. His hips snapped forward, driving himself deeper into you, fast and rough, his breath coming out in sharp, uneven pants. The table shook beneath you with every thrust, the sound of it scraping against the floor barely audible over the wet sounds of your bodies colliding, over the ragged groans that escaped him every time he buried himself inside you.

“Fuck-” he groaned through clenched teeth, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you could feel the bruises forming. His pace was relentless, his cock slamming into you over and over. “You always feel so good…so fucking tight.”

You couldn’t form words, couldn’t do anything but hold on as he pounded into you. His eyes were wild, locked on yours as he watched your every reaction, his mouth falling open in a breathless groan each time you clenched around him.

The table rocked beneath you, on and on, the legs threatening to give way, but neither of you cared. It only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, deeper, his hips grinding into you with a roughness that bordered on desperate.

His hands roamed over your body, one sliding up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as his mouth crashed against yours in a brutal, hungry kiss. His tongue was hot and demanding, his teeth scraping your lips as he kissed you like he was trying to consume you entirely.

The pace was maddening, his hips never faltering, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, making your body tremble beneath him. 

“Alex-” you managed to gasp out, your voice barely more than a breath, but he cut you off with another hard thrust, a groan escaping him as he felt you tighten around him.

“I know-” he breathed against your ear, his voice rough, barely holding back. “I know, baby…I’m close too.” His movements became more frantic, more desperate, his body trembling as he drove into you, pushing you both closer to the brink.

Any control he might’ve had moments ago slipped. His hands were everywhere. Gripping your thighs, pressing into your hips, sliding up your sides. He needed to feel every part of you, to hold you closer. 

“Fuck.” he groaned, his voice a low rasp as he buried himself deep inside you again, harder and faster. He was losing it, his rhythm faltering as he got lost in the sensation, in the heat of you around him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the way his cock stretched you with every ragged, unsteady thrust. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he cursed under his breath. 

You could feel him trembling, his body straining as he teetered on the edge, each thrust messier than the last. His mouth found yours again, a desperate, sloppy kiss that was all tongue and teeth. The heat between you was unbearable now, overwhelming. 

“Fuck, baby...I’m gonna come.” he groaned, his voice breaking as he thrust into you hard, hips slamming into yours with a final, urgent rhythm. His body tensed above you, his breath catching in his throat as he lost himself in the overwhelming sensation. His body shook with the force of it, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he spilled into you, warmth flooding between your legs as he gasped against your skin.

For a moment, it was just him, messy, overwhelmed, trembling above you as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, his cock still pulsing inside you. His breath came in heavy, ragged bursts, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly came down, his body pressed against yours in the most intimate way. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

“That…” he whispered, barely able to form the word as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “That was…Jesus, that was…” He trailed off, too overwhelmed to finish the thought, his body still draped over yours, warm and heavy, but instead of slowing down, he rolled his hips again, a slow, deliberate thrust that made you gasp. He didn’t stop.

You could feel him still hard inside you, the slick heat of him moving against your sensitive walls as he resumed his rhythm, slower at first, but with that same intensity building all over again. 

“You didn’t come yet.” he whispered. His lips grazed your ear as he spoke, his hips bucking into you again. “I’m not stopping until you do.”

You moaned softly in response as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more insistent. The table beneath you creaked again, the wood groaning under the pressure of his movements, but all you could focus on was him, the way he felt inside you, the steady, relentless rhythm of his hips, pushing you closer to that edge.

His fingers slid up your sides, brushing under your shirt to find the bare skin of your waist, gripping tightly as his mouth found yours again. 

“I love you.” he groaned into your mouth, his voice hoarse as he pushed deeper, the sound of his cock sliding in and out of you loud and wet in the small space between your bodies. “So much.”

Your hands flew to his hair, nails digging into his scalp as your body arched against his, a moan spilling from your lips as you felt the tension coil tighter inside you.

Alex was laser-focused on you, his cock pounding into you harder with each passing second. “Come on, baby.” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as he thrust deep, grinding into you just right. “Let go. I want to feel you come…Please.”

That was all it took. The pleasure that had been building finally snapped, your body tensing beneath him as the orgasm ripped through you. Your muscles clenched tight around him, a cry breaking from your throat. 

Alex groaned at the feeling of you tightening around him, his grip on your hips tightening as he slowed his thrusts, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm. “There you go…” he breathed and he kissed you softly. “That’s my girl.” he murmured against your lips. 

He stayed there, buried deep inside you, still hard, his hips barely moving in slow, lazy circles. He groaned softly, but you could sense something building again, the tension in his body still present, still tight. His fingers dug into your hips just a little harder, his breath hitching, and without warning, his hips jerked forward, instinct taking over as he thrust deep again, making you gasp.

“Shit-” he muttered, his voice shaky, almost surprised. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, his body reacting on its own, still desperate for more. You could feel it too, the way his cock twitched inside you, his muscles tightening, and you knew he was close again. 

“Oh- oh god…” he gasped, his voice catching as he thrust into you hard, the pleasure building too fast, overwhelming him. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder. His entire body tensed, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as he came again, barely able to process it, barely able to hold back. His release hit him fast and hard, his cock pulsing inside you as he spilled into you once more. 

“Oh-” he groaned, his voice breaking as his hips bucked one last time, his body shaking as the second wave of pleasure crashed through him, leaving him breathless and overwhelmed. 

He stayed like that for a moment, completely still at last, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his cock still twitching inside you as the last of his release emptied into you. His fingers were trembling, his muscles slack as the intensity of it all finally hit him.

“Fuck...I didn’t-” he started, his voice cracking before he could finish the thought. His chest was still heaving as he looked at you, the dazed, wide-eyed look on his face betraying just how overwhelmed he was. Slowly, a lazy grin began to spread across his lips, like he was finally processing everything. “I didn’t think I’d...come like that again.” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “You…you’ve got me all kinds of messed up.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, your own breathing still unsteady. “Oh yeah?” you teased, your voice still breathless but playful, a little proud even. “Didn’t think you had another one in you?”

His grin turned more wicked and he opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could, you clenched around him reflexively, your body still sensitive. The reaction shot through him like electricity. He tensed, his whole body going rigid, and a groan slipped from his throat as he closed his eyes and his hands clutched the edge of the table, unable to take any more.

“Shit- don’t…I can’t.” he gasped, his voice trembling. “I can’t take any more.” He pulled out quickly, wincing as he did, his legs unsteady. “Not again...you’ll break me…I’ll die.”

You chuckled softly, a shiver running through you at the sudden loss of him, but the sight of him stumbling back from the table, almost collapsing, was too good. He looked utterly spent, but there was something ridiculously cute about it.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” you teased, smirking as you shifted on the table, watching him try to steady himself.

Alex shot you a half-hearted glare, though his smile was still there. “You keep doing that, and you’ll have to carry me out of this room.” he muttered as he staggered toward the nearest chair. He grabbed it, dragging it over with a dramatic sigh and practically collapsing into it with a groan. “I swear, I was two seconds away from my knees giving out.”

You laughed, still lying on the table, legs trembling slightly as the last waves of pleasure still lingered. “My poor, poor man.” you teased, throwing him a mock pout. “The table wasn’t so bad though, was it?”

Alex leaned back in the chair, still catching his breath, and gave you a lazy grin. “Oh, no complaints.” he said. “I mean, it was touch-and-go there for a second, but I think the table and I made it through.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your head fall back against the table, and let out a sigh of contentment. “Good to know I wasn’t the only one doing all the work.”

He shot you a playful look. “Oh, come on, give me some credit. I’d say I held my own pretty well. My knees would disagree, but they’re quitters.”

“You’re the one who wanted to fuck here.”

“Fair point.” he replied. As he sat, his hands absentmindedly reached down to tuck himself back into his pants, his fingers moving with a casual ease despite how shaky he still was. Once he’d zipped up his pants, he groaned, shifting in the chair as though trying to get comfortable.

Without a word, he reached for the buttons on his shirt, popping each one open slowly, his chest still rising and falling with every deep breath. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and pulled it to the sides, letting the cool air hit his skin as he leaned back. 

“Much better.” he muttered to himself, his head rolling to the side to glance at you. His chest glistened slightly with sweat, his skin flushed, and his breathing was still a bit unsteady as he sat there, letting the shirt hang loose on his arms like he’d given up entirely on any formality. 

“Cooling off?” you teased. 

He chuckled, eyes half-lidded. “Trying to. You’re too damn good at making things…hot. God…I’m wrecked.” he muttered, half to himself.

You snorted, your whole body feeling warm from the banter. “Next time, maybe pick a less risky location, Mr. Turner.”

He laughed, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and shaking his head. “No way. The danger’s part of the fun.”

You laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “You know,” you said, voice still a little hoarse, “You’re dripping from me all over your floor now.”

Alex looked at you, dazed but amused, his eyebrows raising slightly as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “That’s fine.” he replied, waving his hand dismissively as if it was the least of his worries. “The floor’s seen worse.”

“Worse than this?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“Oh definitely…absolutely.” he replied, sitting up slightly as he looked at you with mock seriousness. “I’ve dropped coffee, spilled stuff...once I even dropped a whole sandwich, oh- and, you won’t believe this one, one time I kicked over a glass of wine trying to catch a football. You’re just adding to the legacy.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Glad to know I’m in such good company.” you said with a chuckle, too exhausted to argue, and shifted slightly, your body still feeling heavy from everything. 

The mess of the moment didn’t seem to matter as much as the calm after the storm, both of you still caught in that lingering post-high. 

“You know, as much as I’d love to keep chatting about your floor’s sordid history I-”

“I need a shower.” he interrupted, his voice rough, like it took every bit of energy to speak, as if even just that required effort.

“Yeah, that. Me too.” you echoed softly, still not moving from the table, your limbs too relaxed to even think about standing yet. You both stayed like that for a few more seconds. “Come on, get up.” you said, finally mustering the energy to sit up on the table, your legs still feeling shaky. “If you’re going to shower, you need to move.”

Alex was glued to you like a second skin. His damp hair, still slightly mussed, was pressed against your shoulder as he half-draped himself over you. He wrapped one arm around your waist, fingers absently tracing the curve of your hip as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, so close you could feel the soft puffs of his breath. 

“Tired?” you asked, running your fingers lazily through his hair.

He let out a low hum, not bothering to lift his head. “Maybe, a bit.” he mumbled into your neck. “I just like you like this.”

“Like what? Barely able to move under the weight of your body?” you joked, but the affection in your voice softened the words.

“Exactly.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “Just want to be close to you...Is that a crime, counsellor?”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Not yet. But you’re on thin ice.”

Alex chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your shoulder. “Noted. Guess I’ll have to be careful. Wouldn’t want to be thrown out of bed for being too affectionate.”

“Who said anything about throwing you out?” you teased, shifting slightly but not making any real effort to dislodge him. “I’m too comfortable to move.”

“Good.” he sighed, his body relaxing even more into yours. “I’m not going anywhere anyway. You’re stuck with me like this now.”

“I can deal with that. It’s kinda nice, actually.”

“Nice?” he muttered, half asleep but still stubborn enough to keep the conversation going. “Just nice?”

“Alright, fine.” you admitted with a smile. “More than nice. But don’t let it go to your head.”

He grinned lazily against your neck. “Too late.”

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, his body practically draped over yours. It was peaceful, the kind of quiet that didn’t need to be filled, but Alex, in true form, couldn’t resist.

“Did you know,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “that penguins propose by giving their mate a pebble?”

You snorted, caught off guard. “What? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” he replied, lifting his head slightly to look at you with an exaggeratedly solemn expression. “They find the perfect pebble, you know? And they give it to the penguin they want to mate with. It’s very romantic.”

You laughed softly. “Why do you know this?”

He shrugged, settling his head back down on your shoulder. “I don’t know, I think I saw it on some nature documentary. Thought it was cute.”

“So what, are you planning on proposing to me with a rock you find on the sidewalk?” you teased, running your hand absently through his hair again.

Alex chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “Maybe. If I find a really good one, you never know.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’d prefer something a little more...you know, traditional.”

“It's sorted then.” he said, his voice low and sleepy again. “No sidewalk rocks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

There was a beat of comfortable silence again, the two of you just enjoying the feeling of being close, the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed against yours. His fingers resumed their lazy tracing over your hip. You felt that familiar warmth flood through you, feeling his quiet need for affection, and you turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his still-damp hair. “I love you too, you know.” you murmured softly. 

Alex hummed, pressing his face even closer to your neck, like he was trying to burrow into you. “I know…” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

You paused, frowning a little as you tilted your head to glance down at him. “Thank you?” you repeated, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Why are you thanking me for that?”

He shifted a bit but didn’t move far, his face still pressed against you. “Hmm?” he murmured, clearly not understanding your question at first.

Even though he couldn’t see it, you smiled, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead. “Why are you thanking me for loving you?” you asked again. “That’s not exactly something you need to say ‘thanks’ for.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you could feel him thinking, his fingers pausing their gentle movements on your skin as if he was trying to find the right words or come up with a good reason. But then he sighed, his breath warm against your skin, and you could almost feel the smile on his lips.

 “I don’t know.” he admitted quietly. “I just…yeah, I don’t know.”

You let out a quiet laugh, not mocking, just amused by how endearing he was when he got like this. “You don’t have to thank me, Alex. I love you because I do. It’s not a favour.”

He finally lifted his head slightly, just enough so that he could glance up at you with those sleepy, half-lidded eyes of his. There was something so soft about the way he looked at you right then. “I know.” he said softly, his voice a little raw. “But still…thank you.”

You gave him a look. “You’re ridiculous.” you whispered, reaching up to brush your thumb along his cheek. “But I love you, ridiculous and all.”

He smiled, that boyish grin that always managed to make your heart skip creeping across his face. “I’m just…I don’t know. Grateful, I guess.” he murmured, fingers resuming their soft tracing along your hip. “You put up with all of my bullshit. I get clingy, I say weird stuff, and you’re still here.”

You rolled your eyes but your heart was melting a little. “I’m here because I love you, not in spite of all that. Those are the things I like about you.” you said, your tone soft but teasing. “Even the weird penguin trivia.”

“Even that?” he asked, lifting his head more to look at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

You nodded, grinning. “Especially that.”

His smile widened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m really lucky, you know,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, “To have you.”

“You’re getting too sappy on me, Turner.” though there was no denying the warmth in your chest. “But...yeah. I’m lucky too.”

He laughed softly, pressing another kiss to your temple before settling back down, his head resting on your shoulder again. “Okay, okay. No more sap. Just...let me be like this for a while.” he muttered, his body curling back into yours. 

“Stay as long as you want.” you whispered, your fingers trailing up and down his back in slow, soothing motions.

“You’re so stuck with me.” he mumbled, already half-asleep again, his breath evening out against your skin. 

“Yeah, you’re basically a human blanket right now.”

“Mmm, sounds about right.” he muttered, his voice fading into a drowsy murmur. He snuggled closer, if that was even possible. “I could stay like this forever…just you and me.”

“Me too.” you whispered. “Now sleep, Turner. I’m not going anywhere.”

a/n: i love him. (yet another version of alex i made up and became obsessed with)

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[court-jobi]

How'd You Know (I Needed This)

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's (sleepy) characters/work))

Pairing: Aizawa x reader (American!Pro Hero fem!reader, set before the events of Season 1)

Words: 4.9K

Rating: T+

Warnings: Aizawa has feelings and doesn't know what to do with them, alcohol mentions, slow burn, he fell first she fell harder, the feeling is mutual TM

Summary:

Shouta Aizawa surrenders his capture weapon for the night in favor of humoring Hizashi, and is rewarded for his follow-through at his show. He wants to know you, more than he has from teaching the brats alongside you for the last few months. Wants to know the smile that reaches your eyes more intimately.

He’s happy he gets this balcony happy hour with you -out from all their eyes inside- to be able to water this sweet, small thing he feels towards you to fullness.

A/N: I've been WAITING for this one, turn it up!!! Aizawa my beloved, I've wanted to write you for so, so long and can only hope I can do you justice. The man just has such a gentle side and I just wanted to give him something nice and self-indulgent~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Damn it, why was he thinking like this? He’s in public for goodness’ sakes, with only two sips of drink under his belt. Not two drinks- two sips of a drink.  So if that’s the case of his sobriety, why was he off in his own little headspace as if he were drunk?  

‘Put Your Hands Up Radio’ found its home recording studio attached to this lounge: a place Shouta Aizawa never frequented unless expressly invited- or when Eraserhead was needed to scout out trouble. Far too noisy, too chatty, and filled with too many grown adults losing their sensibilities for his liking. 

Through one round of begging or another, he’d been roped into joining some of the staff of UA to an evening out, in support of Present Mic. Naturally, Aizawa would go- as his presence would all but guarantee everyone else’s. Despite begrudging the plans that pushed himself out of his preferred rest mode, he kept true to his word for Hizashi’s sake.

Promise kept, and therefore, appears to have been rewarded. 

Once the show wrapped for the night, his best friend was over the moon at how things were turning into a party that Friday night. After a day of shrill, whinging teenagers he’d wrangled all week, this level of volume was honestly the last thing he needed. Yamada’s voice doubled the decibel of the entire room- and that’s without his quirk activated. He always managed to annoy Aizawa when he started fangirling about one duet matchup or another.

But truthfully? Every sound this tired hero registered around him fell to white noise while he looked at you…

Sweet Little Miss, you are; gracing the lounge with your presence. You’re a vision tonight. Insist with your lilting dip to your words they all call you by your first name, outside of school grounds and against what’s considered custom. No hero titles either, unless an emergency called for formalities- then you’d cave.

These Americans are too casual. Even down to these outfits. What’s this–  black turtleneck, necklace she won’t leave alone- moving it around her thumb like that, short skirt.. and those damn thigh highs and tights. How is it she’s driving that moped of hers, wearing something like this…

Everything on your person, down to the way you held yourself in perfect confidence and ease adorned you like a perfectly-styled pro hero. It couldn't be a more stark contrast to his tried and true wardrobe. Even this after-hours look sat perfectly around each bend and curve of you, as you listened to the group. 

You’re smiling, too. It’s subtle, but it reaches your eyes, which makes it all the more authentic.

A smile he shouldn’t want to keep all to himself. Curves he really should have no business noticing. Features that he’s actually surprised he’s labeling as ‘attractive’ in his mind because the last time he ever felt an ounce of attraction to anyone in that way, he’d barely been able to grow facial hair. 

Desire for a safe place to land his dizzying mind is driving his tired sights to look to you for relief again and again in the conversation– without you even saying a single word. 

The barely-touched drink in his hand is only a prop; something to make him blend into the scene and not something he’s actually tasting for pleasure… meaning, these are his thoughts. Nearly completely sober. Should be illegal. Just illegal-

"Yo Sho, you still with us, sleepyhead?" 

Yamada pulled him out of his thoughts. Disguising any flare of being put on the spot, Aizawa  flitted his absent gaze back to his blond friend–

"Be nice. He’s had a rough day and is a good enough sport by being here,” you chirped up catching Yamada’s pull for Aizawa to part from the fringes of your little gathering.

Now toward you? He’ll soften his edge. After all, with you sticking up for him with blind loyalty, he nearly felt guilty for spacing out and causing you to speak up in the first place.

“- yknow, I'm inclined to take a nap myself," you leaned forward to grab a few more calamari bites to tend to your seemingly insatiable appetite. Aizawa felt warm at the sweetness and straightened up at Yamada’s prodding.

From then on, he made sure to look in your direction more often when you spoke to help him pay attention. He still didn't say much, never did. But he liked the company well enough.

These nights were truly few and far between. Life as an in-demand hero left him jumping from role to role, daytime and midnight obligations. The routine split his waking hours and stretched them paper thin.  Now more than ever,  he typically shirked as much off time as he was offered. And yet, he had to remember to prioritize levity and breaks– and in this case, indulge his treasured friend’s interests and ‘take one for the team’. Good for morale, he reasoned, just this once. 

The occasion was also a way for you to integrate with the group in an informal setting– great for the transplant from the States. You’ve taken amicably to the group of alumni-turned-faculty at UA, though much still remained a mystery about you, presently being peeled back bit by bit through stories and slips of the tongue. There was only so much a dossier could truly reveal about a person- even one curated by S.W.O.R.D. to volunteer aid their Japanese counterparts in their hero work.

It couldn’t tell what kind of teacher you’d turned out to be. Even with no experience working with students, you tread the line between instilling team-centered outlooks and pushing their quirk’s limitations to their max benefit. A crafty, inventive counterpart to complement his blunt teaching style: better together, and even the principal agreed.

It couldn’t point out where your true ambitions lie or where your drive came from. There remained much to be explained as far as your hero status here in Japan– a red-tape nightmare Aizawa was still intrigued to learn about. So far, you’d shared some limitations about “immigration statuses are being vetted with a fine toothed comb, so they’re still trekking through the paperwork”, so your wings are essentially clipped down to a student’s provisional license. This doesn’t please you too much, but you’re driven as much as his finest students with the aire of a professional he’d love to see in full action.

It couldn’t explain the stillness you could dip into, that he only caught once or twice when you believe yourself alone. There’s a past was weighing your shoulders level and compliant in the eyes of the law… but an urge to push back and ‘play this out’  brought hypotheticals to your lips whenever you chatted about what hero life is like for him, and added a sparkle to the eye that he had yet to fully source.

It couldn’t give away the gentleness you hold behind a carefully guarded smile– even in this harsh hero world. Maybe it was that indomitable spirit that those foolhardy patriots overseas carried… or rather, maybe it was the way you fought against such a loud persona. So far, Aizawa has taken only a few notes, but each little mental post-it was cluttering up his headspace. You held a quiet love of tea, a comical passion for the oxford comma, and a mind to care for the little things in life– like the lizards you rescue in an inverted cup to take outside where they belong . 

Surely life must have treated you hard to elicit such softness. Something tenderized you to achieve the peace you carry around or else you’re wearing a damn good mask. No, he determines you had to have made a choice to continue on the path that’s brought you to the present– even to this table where you’re taking your fill of maki rolls while casting little caring glances his way. 

All smiles and calm surety, as he mills through his thoughts that are damn near obsessed with you.

An employee file could never record ‘heart’, anymore than it could expose anything you didn’t want to reveal.

The night progresses while Aizawa stews on these thoughts, and plenty of others… for the ones that drift to his co-teacher offer him more mental stimulation than that he finds in the club’s lights and music.

Yamada’s night of filling his social battery was made nearly perfect by the karaoke that just started. Several of the other teachers got preoccupied in round after round of song, so it left Aizawa with a moment's peace. 

Well, peace he was going to enjoy by laying back on the couch for a little shuteye–  when his gut jumped at the feeling of a hand trailing up his forearm to the elbow with a polite, companionable touch. 

Facing its owner, Aizawa caught your little smirk and nod towards the balcony. You didn't pull hard, yet he followed like a magnet out to the patio. 

From there, rather than stay by the door to listen in on their friends ‘releasing their inhibitions and feeling the rain on their skin’,  you took him to the right, where a matching lounge set positioned itself in a blind spot between the rooftop bar and the fire escape. 

"Thought you looked like you could benefit from some soundproofing~" you brushed your hair back over one shoulder to follow the breeze’s direction, and left an open spot next to you by the railing. 

Nightlife and neon didn’t hold magic for Eraserhead given as many nights as he’s spent perched on precarious heights, but through a newcomer’s eyes, he could see the appeal. This part of the city glowed at night from dusk to dawn, and you clearly loved looking out over it; Aizawa certainly didn't mind this view either. 

Your perception skills are spot on, and incredibly thoughtful as you’ve suggested some fresh air- for his sake. If he wasn’t drawn to you any of the other times he’s paid attention to the spastic moths a more romantic person might call ‘butterflies’ before…  this cements each and every one as valid. 

He likes you. He really likes you. 

Time passed with appreciative quiet until you spoke again, 

"The only thing is, you can't really see stars in the city... there’s too much light."

"The beaches have a nice view," Aizawa replied after some thought.

"Oh yeah?"

"Enough to stargaze properly,” he offered without much sentimentality. Right by the pier was the best spot he and his former classmates would go on the weekends, before their hero work took off.

"I'll have to remember to take a drive there. Y'know, sometime when I'm not in two-and-a-half-inch heels." you chuckled as you shuffled back to the rattan settee, sitting for a bit to stretch out your legs. "I don't know how Nemuri does it."

"Feet hurt already?" Aizawa snuck his hands from his pockets and came to the seat across from yours. “Night’s young.”

"Getting there,"  your laugh greeted him over, "But you know what they say, dress to impress and all that. Yamada really pitched some hype for this afterparty, so~"

Fashion was hardly something that ever swayed Aizawa’s decision-making. Utilitarian was the way to go for his wardrobe- then, as now. 

"If aesthetics are all that determine these pros’ attention, that’s horribly vain." 

You bristled in good humor, 

"He didn't mean it like that– I just meant, he said to look nice for fun instead of for work. Call it ‘girl code’ if you want. We know that means to– just– /doll up a bit/!"

Aizawa held back a snicker at how you still ran into difficulties finding the most apt Japanese equivalents in your (pretty decently executed) second language. English slang you reverted to in moments like these fell from your mouth with an odd drawl. Still couldn’t place the regional accent you carried, but it charmed Aizawa all the same. 

“//Doll up//?” he mimicked. 

"//I like dolling up//!"

Aizawa reached and pulled his glass to his lips, meant to look aloof but not hiding his interest altogether well. 

"You don’t need to put on airs to get people to notice you…" 

"Right, because the accent gives me away."

"No, it’s your-”

Finally, a coward’s streak flared deep in his belly to shut him up. A rare hesitation. Damn this. What the hell’s happening to me–

 “–nevermind."

"My what?" you’re fully  interested, knowing a secret when it's presented.

"Nothing important."

Thankfully you not-so-subtlety dropped it with a hummed ‘ok’, but kept a watchful eye for him in your peripherals. 

The pro hero mused. Better for him to be honest, right? 

Just choose your words carefully. You’ll have to look her in the eye after this, you know. 

Aizawa widened his seated stance so his knee barely breached your space. 

Your sights lifted to him while he put his best poker face on. It’s not really any different than what he’d give to a perfect stranger– the only difference here is he has to force it.

Shit shit shit you're in deep, Shouta.

"You're plenty noticeable as you are. Anyone who meets you can see that," Aizawa shared in his usual soft-spoken tone. "Give ‘em ten minutes, and you've got them wrapped around your finger. It’s a whole impression, not just the outer package. Doesn't matter if you're in a dress that costs a month’s paycheck or a black button down. You're welcoming, sincere..." 

He’s realizing he might be trailing off, but finding you listening with full attention led him on; no liquid courage required. 

"You're stunning from the inside out. Enough to get others to notice."

Aizawa heard your appreciation before he saw it, a hum preceding the a genteel smile. With the win of his walls coming down, he had to give an honest smirk back. It was only fair; you’d earned it just by being you. By your flattered look, you were touched– but your brain was still working beneath the surface, and soon showed by a fleeting expression that spit from him.

Then, you caught your bottom lip for a second, before daring to look in Aizawa’s eyes again. It’s a sneaky look– like he’d snuck a peek at a card he’d meant to hide.

"...You remember what I wore on my first day at UA."

It was half question, half amusement. So dear, but oh-so pointed.

Aizawa froze.

"Black button down. You noticed me, then?" you countered more, "And here I thought you didn't care about appearances~" 

"In professional circles, no. Personal… that's a different thing, entirely." 

He kept your  sights locked onto his, not unlike how he used his quirk in a challenge– only far softer and he could risk the occasional blink.

Even when you took his glass from his hand and placed it away on the table alongside yours, he still looked fondly after you, in fact tilting his head to the other side, studying the way one piece of your hair was caught by your neck. What he’d give to be familiar with you enough to ever-so-carefully brush it back, letting his touch send a wave of shivers across your skin and maybe even make you hum at the gesture. But he couldn’t trust himself to do it now, settling on stretching his arm around the back of the couch. Just an open move, letting you join him on the couch as close as you’d like.

Was he really doing this? He never has before, but this felt so natural. 

You smiled still– and as you sit, you’re leaning into it.  Well then. 

“What was I wearing, Aizawa?”

With free fingers, he risked some little brushes on your near shoulder, bringing a happy little eyebrow lift from you. He just took in your features in close quarters, settled in it, as he remembered that day:

Black button down, grey skirt. Biker boots -practical choice- and these damn tights.

Aizawa’s dazed in the head, but he knows he's listed it off aloud based on how your sights widen, impressed. 

"Hmmm, tights do it for ya?” you smiled, “I'm surprised you haven't jumped the darling Ms. Nemuri then."

"I know way too much about Kayama to ever consider her that way,”  Aizawa’s tempered hand twirled a finger along a blown-away section of hair, just absently enough. “You however, tease just enough." 

"Do I tease you?” you offer with a little depth, “I don't mean to."

It’s here he’s worry he’s stepping over a line- if it weren’t for the downright delicious look in your eye. You say it like you’re sorry for acting unprofessionally– but you’re urging him on, hardly apologetic for your sweet posturing.

"You may not mean it, but it's not unnoticed," 

He took second to swallow, and steps fully over it. 

"or unwelcome."

You’re pleased with this, but deflect with your trademarked humor- 

"Well now that’s saying something. You've seen me in my pjs, too- far from glamorous.  That didn't break the allure for you?"

Aizawa had to huff though his nose at that memory.

"I caught you at arguably your most real self, that first night you patched me up," His outstretched arm rubbed full circles onto your shoulder now, with the lightest touch. 

“Still have no clue why you chose me over Recovery Girl. For the harshest grader in school, that was a pretty dumb move.”

“You were closer than going to campus. It was the practical choice.”

“You didn't even know if I knew first aid.” 

“You do,” Aizawa smirked. “You're too nurturing to not have a knack for it.”

Your legs crossed over, deflecting both your words and refreshing your body movement. In doing so, you slid even closer- a move not lost on Aizawa. 

“Well, I'm still not happy about it. You needed more attending than I was able to pull off. Whatever you get into those nights,” you flitted a look to the underside of his arm that lays outstretched –where you know he sports a scar now- “It… looked like it hurt, ‘Zawa.”

Warm. Warm and cared form. Felt it then, feel it now. That's the life in his chest he gets when he’s around you. 

"Can't change the past, and I certainly wouldn't have changed that. Wouldn’t pass up seeing that sight of you for the world."

This connection, this dance, it all feels that it must be older than what it is, more rooted in a shared history than a short few months. 

Aizawa wants to ‘get’ you. Know the thoughts behind your eyes. Get you talking, even if it means he needs to give up his silent nights and muted text alerts so he can learn you.  He’s happy he gets this balcony happy hour with you, out from other’s eyes, to be able to water this sweet, small thing he feels towards you to fullness.

His eyes narrowed playfully, "Are you embarrassed right now?"

Out of this entire teasing exchange, that note seemed to surprise you and turned you shy.  Short of clapping a hand onto your cheek, you just darted your gaze away- can you be cuter if you tried?

“h-Yeah, a little!" –though you tried to snark your way out of it, "you were hurt before, and blubbery- but now that we’re y'know– awake, and talking... Pretty faces make me nervous."

Nervous? Pretty? Aizawa doesn’t like the sound of either of those.

Aizawa raised a brow and gave a look, a touch more serious.

"Hey," He tapped your chin still with his free hand, "if you want me to lay off, you say the word."

Blindly, you hold his hand from retreating away– "No. You're good, I promise."

He’s drowning in you leaning into the cool touch offered to you–

“ Heh, I–uh… I’m pretty sure ‘friends’ don’t talk about each other like this, though.”

He couldn't be a coward now– not with you melting on the spot and giving him an insane amount of hope.

“Maybe not,” Aizawa reasoned gently, “-not if they’re content to stay that way.” 

–then all of a sudden his heart soared at her next words:

"Well… I like this."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I like you, like this.” With your insistence for touch, you cupped his wrist in your own chill-tipped hand.

Hell yeah. 

Aizawa huffs another win in his foolish heart, but then watches as you keep talking–  you don’t break from your softness, but look reflective off to an absent point on his chest.

“It’s funny, y'know? Most jobs, you’d be lucky to find someone you would actually wanna talk to outside of board meetings and quarterly reports… but here in our line of work, you count on each other to save your lives.”

“That’s right.” Aizawa breathes.

“I uh.. never thought I’d be workin’ with kids- trying to keep them alive too. Teach them how to do the same. But I wouldn’t feel nearly as confident to do it, rise to the challenge, if it weren’t for you, ‘Zawa. You’re just as special. Inside and out.”

And when you look to his eyes again, fully awake and still sober, he swears he’ll say yes to any night Hizashi invites him to if it means he can have you this close. Things with you just feel lived-in. Companionable. He’s drawn to you in a way unlike others before you, because he didn’t believe he’s had the right, desire, or time to even entertain it. 

But everything’s different now. It just works, in his mind. He wants to spend his respites, his missions, everything- with you at his side, having his back. For however long you’d let him.

Touching your cheek, cursing the helmet you’d have to wear on the way home that would hide this angelic face from him once again– Aizawa curls towards you, barely tipping his head which screams ‘kiss her you ass’. You notice, and follow his lead almost halfway. 

“Yeah, I like you like this…” you sighed lightly, “--and I’d like us like this, too.” 

"Hm. Good."

...the door to the patio swinging open from around the corner startles you both. Present Mic doesn’t know his strength as he projects for the block to hear, swaggering about in his search.

You looked flustered sitting back up, but Aizawa was characteristically unphased at the sight of Hizashi finally rounding with a singsong cry of his name. 

Dammit.

"Hey kids, been looking for YOU, Miss America! There's some stateside artists on the karaoke lineup with your name on iiiiit- c’mon! I hyped you already to Nemuri– she didn't believe me that you sang with me for my English midterms!!"

"What?!” you blanched, “ Who said I was doing that?"

"I did!!” Yamada thumbed at his own brilliance, “ C’mon I'll do the first one with you!"

"First one– Dude, I don't need to be touting my Southern-ass self to a bunch of pros before I even make a name for myself here."

"This is HOW you'll do it! Come n’ wow them, break the ice- you’ll do amazing!" Yamada came to your side of the settee, tugging you up to your feet with little fight. "Tch, Sho, you're rubbing off on her, aren't you? Turning our sweet teach into a wallflower as we speak, huh?"

"She was doing me a favor- has an eye out for me when I needed an escape, unlike you." Aizawa droned, to your amusement.

"Yeah yeah fair enough. Now pleeeeeease, would you come inside?  It would be so much fun!"

From the way you’re freshening your jacket collar, you’re warmed from the neck up, caught between what just almost happened and the current situation Yamada is putting you in.

You look to Aizawa just like you did inside– a  glance, but it lingers longer than before. Like you are waiting to see what he thinks. If he’ll stay or go, should you leave. 

But Aizawa isn’t so selfish like before. He doesn’t feel it necessary to keep you to himself, because he sees your affection so clearly in your eyes now. He hosts butterflies in his stomach, yes, but they aren’t frantic and flitting about wondering what you may or may not think of him- chronically tired and a contrast to the breath of fresh air you are. You see him as a companion, too. Someone he might just get the chance to study, and learn, and adore in return.

No, he knows you like him as he is. Knows you’ll choose to meet him where he stands. He can share you, and will simply watch on as you stun him even more...

The Pro-Hero is desperate for some eyedrops in all this wind outside, but he would grin and bear it if you choose to deny Yamada’s pull on you. So instead, he merely leans forward to perch on his knees, with a hand on the lip of both your drinks. What Aizawa says in his non-answer left it open to what you wanted to do.  Stay or go, he’d follow suit.

Returning to the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed fellow teacher, you breathily gave in with your ‘ok’. 

"YEAAAAAUHHHH!"

"Damn peer pressure."

"You said yes," Aizawa smirked.

"Oh if she’s going, you're coming in too!" Hizashi was already whisking you away, and Aizawa rose on his own, following your knowing smile over your shoulder and matching it. 

With many forced karaoke and radio show nights, it’s Aizawa who braves the crowd and comes up behind you at one of Present Mic’s shows,  stepping in from the balcony where you wait by its door. He’s fresh off of work, sporting a new scar across his cheek courtesy of his day job, this time.. but you greet him with that familiar scrunch of the nose that he still finds adorable.

It’s rare he leaves campus nowadays, because he feels the stakes are higher than ever for him to remain vigilant. His students are his life, and as proud of them as he is, they are a constant effort of his mind and strength. Rest doesn’t come easy, and his rewards for a job (passably) done aren’t found in many places. 

One constant he has found helps, has been you. 

You, still alluring as ever, but who makes sure he doesn’t fixate on giving and giving of himself until he breaks– but to take his rests, reset, and even take a little jaunt over to these radio shows when he has staff coverage back at the dorms. Gives you two some time to get nostalgic, sentimental– or as close as he can get to those mushy spots in his heart about the club where he wrestled out his feelings for you for the first time.

He smooths a hand across your lower back now, when he joins you. He’s held onto your hands when they're cold, giving you whatever warmth he has. He knows each and every gap on your resume, partnered with you out on the streets, tag-teams in his classroom with this plucky 1-A Class he now leads, and is content to let you fill his thoughts when he wants to rest his eyes.

He doesn’t fight his affections now. Still would rather not simper in public too much because he’s quite averse to being the center of tabloids’ attentions, but stands by you all the same. 

"I'm surprised to not see you up there,” Aizawa greets, cool as ever. 

You lean on a hip, closer to him. 

"He's got his sets lined up today, didn't ask me-” You speak a little louder over the crowd, “I swear, your cockatoo still acts like I'm some gift from the heavens, just ‘cuz I can sing!"

"It's earned. You deserve every bit of it, and not just from Hizashi."

You turned over to him shyly, drawing his attention further– your tendencies to melt under his words encourages Aizawa to compliment you directly. Often. Whatever it is about his voice that you say you’re obsessed with, he still doesn’t understand– but he uses it to full advantage as he robs your drink from your hand,

"I happen to think you have a gorgeous voice," Aizawa speaks low to your ear. “You should sing at home more often.”

“Please. As if the kids would ever let me live it down.”

You refer -of course- to the twenty shared students between you, taking them all in stride since you’ve sufficiently bonded through fire alongside them. 

“That’s teaching for ya. Gotta push yourself beyond, plus ultra and all that.”

You chortle back in your throat, risking a kiss on his etched cheek to counter his snide remark, 

“You’re off the clock, ‘Zawa. No more hero talk, huh?” 

Aizawa cocks a brow, stealing a sip, “Sorry we can’t all turn it off like you, dear.”

The comment has you biting the inside of your mouth at the tease, and allows him a quick moment to press the glass’ condensation against his eye. 

“Want some air, hon?” you try again, softer than this atmosphere should allow.

Looking back at you -your hold on his elbow ready to guide him outside just like the first night- and Aizawa doesn’t need any more sips of the whiskey he holds.  

The retreat to ‘your couch’ is one he looks forward to any chance he gets. Bass boosted from the speakers inside becomes background noise that dulls his senses, doubled by the way you cozy up under his arm watching the skyline shift in light and color in comfortable silence. You trade roles with him: taking watch while he shuts his eyes for some restorative hydration. 

But before he gets too terribly relaxed by your weight settling his aching muscles to stillness, he registers a warm press to his mouth that he’s quick to chase after. That’s a satisfying thought, too: he doesn't have to imagine what it'd be like to kiss you anymore. 

[oswildin]

Debated making this, but oh well, here we are…

I rewatched the Loki series.

Going to add here quickly that I have been a fan of Loki since 2012/2013, and I personally relate to his character for a multitude of reasons.

Now, I enjoy the series, but I wish they made it more character focused than they had. I do feel like they prioritised story in terms of making it fit the next phase over exploring and expanding on Loki’s character to some degree (a lot of it was surface level).

For example, I would’ve loved to have seen:

Exploring Loki’s Jotun heritage, even if it was a variant of him in the void that embraced it, dropped his aesir form, a conversation between Loki and his Jotun variant as they explain why they chose to embrace it, giving a different view to maybe how our Loki sees himself/the Jotuns. If ‘What If’ could have a frost giant Loki variant, why couldn’t the show?

Expanding upon what happened to Loki during that year after his fall from the Bifrost. The reason for this is self explanatory really, it would add more lore/depth to his experiences/actions during the Avengers. Maybe address the trauma he has from it.

Loki fighting with his so-called ‘desire’ for a throne more. By this I mean, I felt he flipped pretty quickly from his plan to overthrow the time keepers to just following along with Sylvie - which is fine, but I kinda thought there would be more push back from him. I get it was a life or death situation and Loki’s whole thing is ‘survival’, but it would’ve added to their dynamic and the fact the writers clearly wanted to push how Sylvie was different to other Loki’s.

Exploring Sylvie’s backstory more. It really did feel like it was an afterthought, which is a shame. I suppose they left it ambiguous for certain reasons, but I think they should’ve had more flashback scenes of what Sylvie could remember. I think it would’ve helped people understand and relate to her more. (I do love her though).

Actually showed Loki’s gender fluidity & shapeshifting ability more. Again, self explanatory really & important to his character, plus the whole implied only ‘woman variant’ thing with Sylvie should’ve not been a thing, like at all.

They should’ve given Loki more time to process everything. This show really should’ve had 8 episodes each season, I get that’s not the writers fault, likely Disney/marvel’s doing. Perhaps then the shift in his character wouldn’t have felt so jarring, especially considering he’s 2012 Loki. I do agree they wrote him as if he was Ragnarok!Loki, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it just felt jarring considering the last we saw of this Loki was Avengers. But then I could also argue that maybe he thought ‘what’s the point of it’ because the TVA know everything about him, but I digress.

Used Sylvie more in S2. It did feel like they didn’t quite know what to do with her, her and Loki clearly just needed to sit and discuss the citadel fight, but the closest thing we got is in EP3 where Sylvie says ‘this is all rather familiar, isn’t it?’, referencing their different/opposing opinions on the TVA/He Who Remains. And also maybe the pie room scene, but it’s very vague/not directly addressed.

Explored the fact that Mobius is not a good guy more. Because, he isn’t. And that’s okay. To me, the whole point of the show is based on Loki’s quote of ‘no one good is ever truly good, and no one bad is ever truly bad’, and whilst they do reference Mobius’ own morally grey actions/traits, they don’t particularly make it clear and most just see him as this ‘happy go lucky old man who likes pie and loves Loki variants’. In fact, I actually really liked the scene where Sylvie confronts him - which is a very unpopular opinion to have it seems, lol.

Delved into the psychology of Loki further than surface level/what we already know about him. Yes, we know he’s the God of Mischief. Yes, we know he isn’t evil. Yes, we know he is redeemable. Yes, we know he’s cunning, manipulative and selfish. We get that he projects this ‘illusion’ of himself, but it was only really mentioned in S1 EP1, maybe slightly EP2, before it’s never really mentioned again. I suppose S2 does this to a degree with the bar scene and EP5 of S1 in the time cell with Sif - also I think they tried to take the narcissist angle from the pov that it’s because of his low self-esteem as to why he needs validation and it’s a defence mechanism, but they didn’t particularly make that clear and made it seem like he just thinks highly of himself.

I know it seems like I have a lot of issues with the show, and I do, but I still enjoyed it. It’s okay to be critical of a piece of media and still enjoy it.

I do prefer S2 to S1, mostly because I prefer the direction they took it in and whilst I, of course, wanted better for Loki, I can’t deny S2 EP6 is a stunning finale. I sobbed so hard during the ending and still feel the grief that I actually lost someone I knew personally. But I also have hope that this means Loki is now a main player in the next phase (am I delusional? Maybe).

I enjoyed the dynamics, the back and forth/chemistry, the story was interesting, the set & costume design, the acting, the directing/colour grading, the music (Natalie Holt, you are genius), the emotions, the fun, the characters…

So this is not a hate post by any means, I will once again state, I enjoyed the show. But, I do have issues with it, and that’s okay too.

Please, dni if you’re just going to be argumentative or confrontational. I also don’t want to hear that just because I enjoyed the show that I’m ‘not a real fan’ lmao. I’m sorry, but I’ve been a Loki stan for over a decade, and I will not have someone tell me I’m not a real fan because of a piece of fictional media. Also, please do not mention anything regarding ships on this post, I do not care for it because it always ends up in arguments and I am a multishipper so I don’t tend to fight for any side. Thank you! :) /gen

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Quick Warm Up for A Long Marathon

This is literally just being silly. I know it's super short, but honestly for this part of the story? I think it's just hilarious. I love how this story turned out! Anyways, enjoy some hybrid!CoD

TWs: None, except König being an ass

Wordcount: 800

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

A Quick Warm Up for A Long Marathon

So the cafe was a disaster. Well, not every idea can be brilliant. You'd hoped to break the ice between you, but so be it. You’d still keep trying with König, even if it killed you. Of course with how determined König seemed to shut you out, it started to look like you’d be taking yourself out pretty soon.

You’d dealt with difficult hybrids before. You’d dealt with a tokoloshe shifter that had been determined to undermine any and every attempt to get through to her. You’d eventually won her over by providing her a plethora of fruits from South Africa and two weeks of vacation to visit her aunt during the summers over the holidays, and after that, it was smooth sailing. Maybe König needed something similar? He seemed so closed off all the time. Maybe it was because he was just overworked?

The thought helped calm you. It was a light at the end of the tunnel to look forward to. The knot that had worked itself twixt your shoulder blades started to unwind as you walked down to the gym. You wondered if maybe König would actually be a bit more relaxed once in the gym. Usually, a bit of light jogging was enough to clear your head, so maybe your hybrid might be more friendly when he’d unwound a bit. That, or he’d be particularly bristly. It was a coin flip, really. Not one that you really wanted to hedge your bets on either. You’d really rather not have to put your fate in somebody else's hands, but König had a firm grip on you and he was happily dragging you down to the bottom of the crab bucket.

The walk to the gym led you winding round the base until you came to a wide door, which in turn led to what seemed more like a stadium than a gymnasium. Inside, you turned around as you walked to get a full lay of the land. Around you was a giant track while the ceiling was lined with hoops for hybrids to duck through or swing off of. Hurdles lined one end of the track while a great obstacle course took up the center of the room. Finally, you spotted the equipment lining the far wall. There, you made your way to the back corner, where a small group of hybrids were training using punching bags and kicking pillars. At the end of a line of ten sandbags, König was practising his hooks.

“Hey!” you held up a hand as you walked over to where your colonel stood, “sorry about being late. I got a bit busy.”

König glanced over towards you before focusing back on the red punching bag.

You looked at the bag and then back at him, “So, do you need me to hold some pads for you?”

König stilled, then slowly turned his head towards you. He didn't bother hiding how his eyes squinted as he looked you up and down, “You think you can do that for me?”

You scoffed, “Of course I can! I’m your handler. It's my job.”

König gave you another once-over before dropping his stance. He shrugged and said, “Try your best.”

You turned away to hide your eye roll, but you figured it was time to finally prove your worth as a handler. If you couldn’t get to him on a personal level, he could respect you as a trainer. You’d dealt with plenty of hybrids before König, how could he be any different?

You sauntered back to him with a hefty body bag over one shoulder, your other hand swinging easily by your side. König tilted his head back, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one foot in a perfect show of bemusement. You snorted to yourself as you held up the pad to your side, shifting to a proper front stance as you readied yourself for the blow.

“Ten roundhouses on the right, ten on the left,” you declared, “sound good to you?”

“What about stretching?” König countered.

The tips of your ears were flushed as you scrambled and sputtered, “I mean, you were doing some exercise earlier, so didn’t you already do some?”

König shook his head, “I did, but did you?”

You paused. He had a fair point.

“Okay, um, can you give me fifteen and I’ll come back to you?” you asked.

König shrugged, “I’ll be here.”

Good enough.

A good fifteen minutes later, you were fully stretched and ready for whatever König was about to throw at you. You picked up your body bag and returned back to your place by König’s side.

“Alright big guy,” you gave him a wicked grin, “I’m not letting you put off leg day anymore!”

König glanced down at his legs, then back at you. The fact that his thighs were thicker than your head was left unsaid.

“So, remember, ten on one leg, ten on the other, alright?” you hoisted the pad up, “starting on the right. Ready?”

König nodded and fell into a comfortable front stance.

“Alright, one!”

Boom.

With one swing, you were sent clean across the gym. You fell into a jumbled mess of limbs, scrambling for traction on the floor mats as you sprawled out. When you managed to find your footing, you stumbled to your feet and turned to face König.

“Maybe you should use the pillars,” you mumbled.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that König was grinning behind his mask.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universe Stories

[pleasantspark]

Dissecting the Inconsistencies in Poison (Commentary)

For some fucking reason despite this song intending to be Anti-Rape and Blake trying to be the next Michael Kovich with him trying so hard to sound like him, the song makes me think it's Pro-Rape.

I'm not above a love to cash in Another lover underneath those flashin' lights Another one of those ruthless nights Yeah, yeah, yeah

In this verse, Angel Dust is talking about his work as being a Porn Star, and how he spends time under the spotlight recording with strangers "Another lover" implies there's more than one each night.

I shoulda' guessed that this would happen I shoulda' known it when I looked in your red-hot eyes Spewin' all your red-hot lies Yeah, yeah, yeah

In this verse, he laments on how he should have guessed what had happened, and how he should have known it by telling from a red flag via Valentino. Red hot lies are also referring to manipulation.

What's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself

He blames himself for ending up in this Hell.

'Cause I know you're poison You're feedin' me poison Addicted to this feelin', I can't help but swallow Up your poison I made my choice, and Every night I'm livin' like there's no tomorrow

This verse conflicts me, on one hand, he's accepting of the poison and refusing the much needed help, and I am pretty sure Val isn't actively trying to isolate him from anyone else, which makes him less of a threat and all of his threats have to do with something related to making Angel Dust fuck other people. And most of the threats sound so goofy that it makes me wanna fucking cringe.

He's talking about how he has no choice but to accept the poison I get it, he's a victim but the thing is about Angel Dust as a whole is, that the song is not even representive of the fact this guy is a victim of SA, rather he's depicted as enjoying it and doing all this.

Oh-oh, oh-oh Any way you want me, baby That's the way you got me, I'll be yours My story's gonna end with me dead from your poison

Most of the time, I believe he finds himself in a place where he is trapped, although there's tons of people who he cares about. The best part of a character arc for him would technically be Angel Dust being led to believe most of the people in the Hotel were "using him" and that he is forced to stay with Val until he is showed that people care about him.

I got so good at bein' untrue I got so good at tellin' you what you wanna hear I disassociate, disappear Yeah, yeah, yeah So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp

In this verse, he is completely talking about losing himself, and falling into the gulp of Val's poison. Which we don't see any of.

Yeah, I know it's poison You're feedin' me poison I'm chokin' from the taste and I can't help but swallow Up your poison I made my choice, and Every night I'm wasted like there's no tomorrow Oh-oh, oh-oh Any way you want me, baby That's the way you got me, I'll be yours My story's gonna end with me dead from your poison Poison, I'm drownin' in poison I'm fillin' up my glass but it's always hollow Full of poison, I'm sick of the poison Wish I had something to live for tomorrow…

And it ends with him having a (semi) realistic panic attack to distract us from the fact that Angel Dust deadass sang a Love Song about his abuser.

This is a Pop Song.

I feel like making a song about anti-rape SHOULDN'T be something like Pop, it's too cheerful and makes it insensitive. I feel like something on the level of Nirvana can actually work out.

In Conclusion, while Poison is catchy, it's NOT a good song at all, and gives me mixed signals. Compared to Addict its a complete downgrade of it, beyond the vocals and lyrics. No 8 year old should be listening to this, and no one should "Cum" to the visuals VivziePop.

[jazzy-art-time]

Alli - JarbleAU

Alli belongs to @curce [ I had permission to Jarble-ize her. Curce willingly sacrificed her to me ]

Diagnosis information below the cut

DIAGNOSIS:

Alli

Job: Stage performer / Stage magician

Despite her flamboyant and spectacular performances on stage at the Shining Ring's biggest Casino, Alli is all but a fraud.

Most wouldn't be able to tell that her acts are all fake. Just tricks of the light or very strategic stage tricks. She works hard to make sure everything looks spectacular and entertaining from down below in the seats… or well.. at least makes sure her stage hands work hard.

Whether or not magic does exist doesn't matter, in the end its just about money. Real or fake it doesn't matter, what sells, sells. Wasn't entirely the route she was expecting to take in her life but it's where she's at now and she is good at it.

She is extremely cocky and arrogant and demanding of those around her to make sure her performances go well. At this point, is she even doing much work out there?

However, stage tricks aren't enough to keep a crowd interested, so she sometimes has to resort to… interesting outfit changes to gather attention. She isn't the best at flirting face to face, but that doesn't really matter when you are on stage with a short skirt.

She gets easily worked up over any critic reviews of her show. What would they know anyhow. Better hope you aren't a stagehand who happens to be nearby when a bad review drops.

But despite her cockiness on stage, there is some level of discomfort with it. Sometimes she wonders if it's really worth it to be this way. Maybe she shouldn't rely on such cheap tricks to gain a audience. A deep ache resides in her chest whenever a child happens to pass by mentioning that they love magic and hope to see a show of hers once they grow up. She remembers when she believed in that stuff too. It hurts a little.

But she doesn't know why. DEFAULT WEAPON:

Expandable Cane/Wand

Is conjured by "pulling" out of her head gem.

Usually summoning it causes a mild headache. She cannot conjure it if her gem is somehow damaged or covered, even by her own hair.

The wand/cane can expand for as long as she needs to for the situation. She can also determine how flimsy or stiff the cane is. So it can either be being hit with a flimsy switch or getting nailed with a lead pipe.

Normally a clear glass like appearance during the day. But within starlight or specific brands of stagelight, it glows. EXTRA DESIGN NOTES:

-> Has a more witchy type outfit but had to go more magician for the gimmick. BUT kept the hat overly large with the crinkled tip just as a bit of a nod to the original.

-> Sparkle markings appear on her face, her hair shimmer and lightly faded on her tail tips. The ones on her face are supposed to mildly resemble that of clowns.

-> Has several gems that mimic her forehead gem on her body. When she performs, she somewhat hides that she is pulling her staff from her head gem. That way it leaves to some illusion on just WHICH gem she is pulling it from. Most assume she can pull it from any of them.

-> The inside of her cape has that like… "space" texture that changes and warps as she moves around. Is it just some kind of mythical fabric or does she own like 50 fucking capes with different sequin space patterns? WHO KNOWS

-> I'M NOT... ENTIRELY HAPPY WITH THE OUTFIT but like. Magician outfits can be kinda basic and so trying to do something more flashy but also like?? I don't know! I don't know how fashion or clothing work I'm still learning and practicing give a man a break

[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[wizardsix]

is it just me or is bioware spoiling way too much about the game . talking about gameplay improvements is one thing but revealing story and companion arcs seems very insecure to me bc now the mystery is gone when people play for the first time . seems like they're trying too hard to prove that their game isn't garbage after that first trailer but this is not how you do that

[wildstar25]

G'raha looked so serious while he pleaded his case to venture into the World of Darkness with the Warrior of Light. The sudden conviction in his tone had Arsay at a loss for words. Still, she did not hesitate to meet his request with an accepting nod. He was an important friend and in the passing moons that they'd come to know each other, a strong fondness for him had taken hold of her. The prospect of helping G'raha find the truth behind his mysterious inheritance made Arsay's heart pound. It was the perfect venture for them to embark on. The first of many, she hoped. The two turned towards the impossibly tall spire that dared to pierce the heavens above. Arsay's resolve strengthened in its presence. When they next find themselves gazing at the tower -with their quest completed and the world no longer under threat of total destruction- she'll properly ask G'raha to be a companion in her travels. A grin crept its way onto her face as her gaze shifted to him. If Arsay could find it within herself to bare her heart to others so readily just as he does… perhaps their future adventures will find them together, hand in hand.

[bitchfitch]

They should invent a way to call the boarders about my cats that wouldn't involve irritating a real live person who has a job to do that is not telling me my cats are ok.

[elvenferretots]

On one hand, I feel horribly guilty for having a couple weekends where I've committed to absolutely nothing to the point of backing out of volunteering at a local dog show.

On the other hand, I have dog sport events literally every weekend and practice or class at least twice a week throughout the entirety of October and November. I think I get a free pass for a couple weekends.

[imminent-danger-came]

My new hobby is skimming through seasons of Ninj//ago to induce a fever dream like state in my psychese