#when it turns out it takes several tries to start to get more solid footing at drawing characters for the first time: What The?????

[unproduciblesmackdown]

set out to create a serious, canonesque drawing with which to say "feel free to go in my lackadaisy tag and help me mystery speculate" but only got going when i made it bowling and the rarepair agenda

[firsttimewriter92]

Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Description: You´ve just moved in a couple of weeks ago, trying for a new start. A brief encounter with your neighbor gets your endorphins and imagination going. What is it about the mask?

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, a little pining

Word count: 1.917

A/N: Hi everyone <3 This is my very first Simon Riley x reader fic. I´ve written about several characters of CoD but Ghost was always kind of an enigma to me. I never knew how to make him the love interest. But and idea popped into my head after reading some characterization that made it much easier to write for him. So here you go :) Let me know if a part 2 is something you´d be interested in.

“Jesus fucking Christ” you swore as you tried your best to push your heavy apartment door open and balance your bag and groceries through the door. It was a struggle to say the least, but you were damned if you did second trips. Grumbling through your teeth you saw no other possibility than setting down your bag, holding the door open with your foot and grabbing your groceries a little more securely. Bending your knee, you gave your door a forceful push and slid through into your small hallway. Foregoing taking off your shoes you made your way into your open kitchen and set the heavy paper bags down on your kitchen island.

A sigh escaped you and you took a moment just to stand in your kitchen and take in the chaos around you. Half emptied moving boxes were strewn all around your living room, amidst not yet hanging shelves, plastic plants and several DIY projects. Another sigh left your lungs with a huff. Moving and starting anew had seemed like your only option a couple of weeks ago but now you dreaded the silence. You wanted this, ___, you thought. It was your decision.

Your new job was everything you ever hoped for, and training turned out to be smooth sailing. You loved it, you loved your apartment, even though it was far from being finished yet. But still, what you´d left behind still lingered in the back of your brain all too clearly at times. Especially when your heavy door closed behind you every evening and there was nothing but you, your DIY projects, an occasional phone call with your parents and then silence. Silence to wallow in, rake your brain and memories. Memories not even a good Podcast or music were able to drown out.

You weren´t as close with your colleagues yet as to be invited out to the pub after work but that was to be expected. The chances were good though. Maybe just a couple of days more and you´d have at least some kind of social interaction. One step after the other, you reminded yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Your own impatience with yourself was yet again trying to make you feel like you´d made a mistake by moving. A humorless laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. Calm down, you thought. This is your life, your pace. Relax.

A couple of minutes later your food was stored away, veggies and salmon steaming away and finally you sat down on your couch, glass of wine in hand and Netflix on your TV.

“Bloody hell” you cursed as a shot of adrenalin set your brain into overdrive. Your bag. You jumped off your couch and hurried over to the door. Swinging it open with a yank you initially thought someone had put out the lights in the corridor. All you saw was black and not a second later you collided with something solid.

Shaking your head, you realized three things. It was 7 o´clock on a warm day in July, so it couldn’t be dark out already. Your hallway had several windows and yes, the sun was still out. The black wall you just ran into turned out to be a massive chest.

Heat was ascending your neck as you took a small step back and lifted your head to look at the face this quite impressive physique belonged to. What the…?

Before you stood a man, several inches taller than you, frozen in place with his arm lifted as if he was just about to knock on your door. He looked down on you with impressive, hazel eyes. Honey blond, tousled hair adorned his head, falling slightly onto his forehead, wet tips clinging to his temples and a bead of sweat disappearing behind his ear. But that was about all you could make out.

Seeing people wearing a facemask had of course not been an unusual sight for the last three years but he wasn´t wearing one of those surgical ones. His nose, mouth and chin were covered in thick, black material, even spanning over his cheekbones and disappearing behind his ears. When your eyes caught his again you saw them narrowing just slightly and one blond eyebrow ticking upwards.

Something wriggly moved inside your belly.

The man slowly lowered his arm, simultaneously lifting the other slightly, holding out your bag.

“This yours?” a deep, calm voice broke through the silence and the wriggly something inside you spread out towards your chest, down your arms and into your fingertips. You swallowed, trying to gather your wits again.

“Uhm…yes. Yes, that´s mine. Forgot about it” you said with a nervous laugh as you took it from him. He hummed deep inside his chest in understanding. The sound only letting your eyes snap onto his again trying to decipher if the squinting was an annoyed one or an amused one.

Amused, as it turns out. He took a deep breath, the black material of his running shirt as you now realized it was, stretching across the expanse of his chest.

“You know, that´s how you get your identity stolen. Or at least your wallet.” Yeah, there was no question now, he was grinning behind his mask, his tone mildly rebuking but not at all belittling.

A small smirk of your own crawled onto your lips as you cocked out your hip and nodded your head.

“You´re absolutely right, Sir. I´ll cuff my bag to my wrist from now on so this inconvenience shall not occur to you a second time.” You want to be cocky, mister? Fine with me.

Your answer made him chuckle. It was short but genuine. One hand in his pocket he stepped back slightly and only now did you notice the heat that his body had emitted. With one last narrow of his eyes, making the edges crinkle ever so slightly he answered. “Not an inconvenience, Miss. Have a good evening.” He nodded once and walked away to your right.

“Y-you too” you cursed the way your words tumbled. To your surprise he halted in front of the door next to yours and your heart jumped into your throat as he took out his keys. Your eyes still fixed onto his side profile (you still couldn’t really make out any features), he gave you one last look before opening his door.

“And thank you” you rushed out.

He only lifted one hand to give you a small little wave that seemed way too juvenile for a man of his stature and closed his door.

Kind of shellshocked you turned around yourself and let your door fall shut behind you. Clutching onto your bag you didn’t even notice how long you were just standing in your hallway, trying to sort out the wriggling nerves. Who was that? Idiot. Your neighbor. Your neighbor that you´d never seen before. A man like him you´d remember seeing. There´d never been any noise from the apartment next to yours so you just thought it was either a very quiet tenant or one that only went there to sleep.

Sitting down on your couch again you stared at the wall behind your TV. He was behind that wall, doing…things. Existing. Why did that feel so exciting to you? Maybe it was just because that´d been your first real social interaction apart from talking to your colleagues?

Laughing incredulously at yourself you buried your burning face in your hands and giggled. No. No that wasn’t it and you knew it. It was stupid. So very stupid and weird and nerdy and…that damn mask!!

“Whhhyyyy…..?” you moaned grinning and rubbed your temples, finally letting all the pent up adrenalin and endorphins rush through your blood stream unstopped. What was it about men wearing those damn masks? Not being able to fully see their face. Having to find out what there was to them by just their actions.

The fist time you really thought you´d lost your mind was when you actually developed a burning crush on a literal tin can from the Star Wars universe. Oh yeah, sure. Give me a brooding, sarcastic, overworked loner with PTSD and give him a freaking child to protect. Watch him become a devoted, loving single parent. Of course! Yes, let me thirst after him. And did it stop there? Of course not. The pandemic hit and the lockdown had everyone in a chokehold.

The only chokehold you wanted to be in at the time however was one carried out by a video game character called Ghoul from “Call of Obligation”. Tatted up, burly, sharp, dutiful, loyal and fucking hot.

The only thing you were able to see of him? His eyes. Just his eyes and an occasional forearm here and there. Everything else covered in tactical gear and a scary facemask. God that character haunted your dreams almost every night. And now, you had his existing, breathing, heat emitting, real human equivalent living next to you. You felt your insides burn as another funny noise came from your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. Why was half a visible face or even less, so damn attractive to you?

“Shit must be some kind of kink” you murmured to yourself as you reached for your wine glass.

Why was he wearing that mask anyway? People weren´t obligated to wear one anymore. Was it some kind of training technique while running?

Anyhow, you appreciated the encounter. Your mood instantly better even though the both of you hadn’t talked much at all. He seemed witty. Cocky almost and you liked that.

Emptying your wine, you put the glass back in the dishwasher and walked over to your bathroom when you heard it. The shower in the next apartment was running. Immediately you halted all movement and tried to not even breath. The situation seemed so delicate, like thin glass ready to break. You stared at the wall when something else caught your ears.

No. Did you hear this right? Was he…?

You walked carefully over to your shower and stepped in. Trying not to care about how crazy you must look at this moment, you turned your head to the wall slightly, closed your eyes and listened as hard as you could. There it was.

Low, melodic and absolutely captivating. Over the sound of the water hitting the tile you heard your neighbor singing. Your forehead hit the tile and you breathed as quietly as possible, marveling in the baritone sweetness that could be heard through the wall. All too soon, about a minute later it was over. The water was shut off, the singing stopped.

As if in trance you got your nighttime routine going and a couple minutes later, slid into bed. Knowing where his bathroom was now, you were positive that his bedroom had to be next to yours as well. You tried to hear more, but nothing else penetrated the walls. It made you glad actually. If you would be able to hear him in his bedroom, sleep would turn out to be an impossibility to achieve.

This way, you closed your eyes, got comfortable and let your thoughts drift and wander. Not long after, you were dead asleep. Your dreams yet again haunted, but now, the usual scary mask of Ghoul was replaced with a solid black one and instead of clawing at a fully clothed head between your legs, your fingers tangled into soft honey blond curls.

_____________________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

[alexanderlightweight]

What if the New York Institute itself is an angelic eldritch creature? It has stayed dormant for a long time, but with Alec as the new Head it awakens and adores him and Magnus just falls that much more in love with Alec?

Thank you!! I love your writing so much!!

I loved this prompt (I actually have a fic where Alec IS the institute) so this was right up with what I enjoy!

Uh so this was supposed to be not as soft but then the Institute got involved and wanted Alec to have something nice because of his childhood so we skipped some of the angst

I hope you enjoy!

—

Alec grows in the shadows of the New York Institute.

A small child kept away from the light and hidden, his parents enemies of what is to be his new home.

Alec learns to be silent. To keep out of the way of the older shadowhunters and to keep busy to not distract his parents.

Eventually, he finds a room full of a bright light and Alec finds himself mesmerized by it.

It’s colder here, like the ice Alec sometimes gets in his juice but his mother’s gaze is colder still, his father’s care a layer of frost.

The cold of the blue light doesn’t scare him and Alec reaches out, his pudgy fingers too short as he tries to touch it.

There’s a sound, like the door is being opened and Alec turns, terrified at being found and he trips.

Falling into the light.

—

Alec doesn’t remember what happened after.

He’d think he was found unconscious and put to bed but his mother wakes him with a harsh shake of, ‘he’s too old for naps’ and it’s clear she doesn’t know.

Any other shadowhunter would have left him there, and Alec knows he didn’t crawl back by himself.

The idea that he has a hidden ally — someone or something that might actually care about him — blooms and Alec bites his own lip harshly, because he can’t smile.

Even if hope is slowly unfurling, he can’t let it show.

Otherwise, it will be taken away and then Alec really will be all alone.

—

Magnus is annoyed to have to visit the Institute in person, but there has been an official change in leadership and his presence has actually been requested, not outright demanded.

So he walks into the Institute without a care. His own wards recognize him but the angelic power that normally is abrasive against him seems… not absent but uninterested in poking at Magnus.

No alarms go off, but everyone stops what they’re doing to look at Magnus.

A woman approaches him, tightly coiled curls and sharp brown eyes that look over him warily, but not aggressively.

“High Warlock Bane?” She asks, which is several steps up from Maryse Lightwood spitting ‘warlock’ at him.

Still, Magnus won’t hold his breath.

“In the flesh,” Magnus smirks and he looks her over carefully, “here to meet the new Head and Commander.”

He wonders if she’s one of them but she only nods and then gestures for him to follow, carefully making sure she turns her back first.

It’s a new courtesy, but hardly a risk when Magnus is in an Institute full of shadowhunters.

Magnus is powerful, not stupid.

“They’re one and the same.” She says without any introduction, “Alec Lightwood is taking over solo. Maryse and Robert have retired to Idris.”

“Oh?” And while their surely repellant spawn will be just as much of a thorn, Magnus is gleeful at the prospect of rarely seeing the elder two. “I’m surprised they didn’t stay to make sure I wouldn’t nefariously influence their heir?” It’s a little more snide than he usually allows at the start of a nephilim interaction, but he’s feeling giddy.

The shadowhunter stops in front of a solid mahogany door and she frowns, and then gives him a wary glance. “Robert and Maryse Lightwood will never again step foot in New York, or her Institute.”

And with that confusing but titillating piece of information. She opens the door and announces his presence and then sighs.

“Apologies, High Warlock Bane. I seem to have forgotten where the meeting would take place.”

And Magnus suddenly wonders if instead of an office he’s about to be led to an interrogation room.

Which will not be happening.

Except he’s led up a dizzying staircase of delicate marble to a door of glass and wood and when his guide opens it, he’s welcomed by plants and clean air and pure but alien magic.

“The Commander prefers to often have first meetings in the greenhouse. Normally he remembers to tell me—“ and she raises her voice like there is someone else listening. “However it must have slipped his mind for the last two weeks.”

They take a turn and Magnus finally sees the new commander and oh—

Oh no.

Alec Lightwood isn't repellant at all, though he may be a brat considering the smirk of pure amusement he sends Magnus’ long-suffering guide.

“Thank you for coming, High Warlock Bane. This is Mirai, my second-in-command.” And he turns to Magnus, all tall, muscular limbs and a gorgeous face and hazel eyes dappled in the false light of the room. “Would you like refreshments, or prefer to provide your own?” He asks, like he actually wants to know and it could be a trap, it should be a trap but then Alec Lightwood sits back down and motions across from him.

There are two chairs, equally made and comfortable, as Magnus discovers when he sits. There is a short table between them with nothing on it but an almost empty mug of what smells like coffee.

“You’ve provided such a refreshing place to talk considering my last meeting here.” Magnus says, because it’s clear they’re not tip-toeing around things with the way he’s being treated. He summons a little flourish of magic as he twirls his fingers, “but I do know a place with the best bagels this side of Brooklyn.”

Nothing goes off. No alarms and no weapons drawn and Magnus is delighted despite himself.

“That sounds nice.” Is all he actually gets in a response, Alec Lightwood blinking at him as if he’s in a daze.

“Sir, do you even know what a bagel is?” Mirai, helpful to have a name, is trying to be quiet but Magnus activates battle magic before going to the Institute.

He can hear her and Magnus is charmed when all Alec — perhaps it’s Alexander? A much more fitting name for him, more to roll off the tongue and savor — does is sigh and pointedly hand her his almost empty cup, dismissing her second.

“I know what a bagel is.”

—

“Are you sure this is a bagel?”

Magnus is being asked but it’s not malicious, it’s confused and Alexander is poking his bagel suspiciously. “I thought bagels were the long, skinny bread loafs.”

“Alexander,” Magnus can’t help the way his voice goes helplessly soft or the intimate way he calls Alec Lightwood’s name. “That’s a baguette, darling.”

And the endearment is equally an accident and Alexander is staring at Magnus with shock.

And it’s not the horrified kind.

He’s got pink sneaking up his neck and his cheeks and even tickling the corner of his ear Magnus can see.

“Right.” Alexander says and then, rather helplessly he picks up the bagel and takes a rather large bite.

It’s clear he’s not expecting the filling because he holds a hand over his mouth politely for a moment and there is a little smear of schmear on his lip.

Magnus uses magic to clean it away without thinking and they both awkwardly pause, as he remembers that this is a business meeting.

Not a date.

“Right, your wards?” Magnus is asking but Alexander has already taken another giant mouthful. Cheeks like a burrowing chipmunk and Magnus summons a handkerchief and passes it over.

Less temptation at this point.

There’s a moment of very pointed silence as Alexander chews and Magnus takes his own, smaller but no less delicious bite.

“Is there a way to make your wards a little less—“

Ah and this is the point where Magnus is disappointed. It’s fine, Magnus is used to being disappointed, it will be fine.

“Uhm, this might be a weird thing to say.” And Alec is nearly fidgeting, fingers wiping on the napkin nervously. “Is there a way to make the wards a little less well, intimate?”

Magnus stares blankly as Alexander blushes like skin baked at the beach.

“Intimate?” Magnus hears himself say blankly.

“Yeah the magic in them is, it’s nice. Really. Your magic is lovely and really sweet and friendly—“ and Alexander is off blabbering on a running commentary of similar words and components.

“Alexander.” Magnus finds himself interrupting, “What do you mean by the wards are intimate? You can feel the magic?”

“Is that… not supposed to happen?” And Alexander looks truly lost, “I thought it was a natural progression of taking over the Institute. I mean, I didn’t expect it to be so lovely and so interested in me. But it is getting a little…”

And Magnhs waits for the words ‘too much’ and then Alec sighs.

“If we’re being honest it’s actually really distracting. I don’t mind it when I’m alone, but if it could stop being so touchy when I’m in meetings with the clave or training I’d appreciate it. And maybe if it stays out of the shower.”

Alexander is looking anywhere but Magnus and he’s ripping off a little corner of his bagel, like it can distract him.

“The shower?” Magnus repeats, all his delight in not being considered too much dissipating at the thought that Magnus’ magic got to see and touch Alexander in the shower.

And Magnus was unaware of this.

It’s unacceptable.

And if his magic has ruined this for him he’s going to… go destroy a realm or two until it’s exhausted and behaving. And then he will complete the process by flopping on Ragnor’s floor and waiting until his dear cabbage gives up and calls Cat.

It’s his tried and true method of getting over betrayal.

And Alexander peeks shyly over, like he has any right to be so adorable when Magnus also wants to see if Alec can lift him.

It’s too much for Magnus.

He came expecting a battle of wits and daggers of bigotry.

Not brunch in an angelic greenhouse with a dazzling man of complexities who hadn’t ever had a fucking bagel.

And who is blushing and shy because Magnus’ magic has been stalking him and possibly feeling him up in his own shower.

—

Alec doesn’t really understand where he went wrong.

It might have been forgetting to tell Mirai about the change, but Alec has been busy with the official change in position.

He honestly just forgot.

Though he’ll let her think he’s just keeping her on her toes.

But Magnus Bane didn’t seem too upset and he showed his magic—

and wow Alec’s wondered what his magic might look like but wow

—and then Magnus is being devastatingly charming and offering food and Alec knows what a bagel is okay.

He’s had them before.

He tends to swipe a couple that are in the kitchens for prep and a handful of protein because he doesn’t have time for proper meals.

And it turns out those are not bagels.

They are in fact.

Baguettes.

Around him the Institute threatens to croon sadly and Alec really can’t concentrate on both his Institute, the wards and still focus on Magnus.

Because Magnus is just as magical as his magic.

Which obviously. Since it’s his magic.

The bagels are actually fine and when the Institute offers to tap into the mundane internet and send recipes, Alec shoves a bite of the unknown food hastily in his mouth.

The last thing he needs is his Institute getting interested in mundane culture.

Again.

It’s delicious but unexpectedly messy.

Alec feels like a child again, but instead of the angelic power core cleaning his face, or the wards it’s Magnus actual magic.

It’s—

Alec shoves an even bigger bite into his mouth and tries not to think about how nice Magnus’ magic feels and how gorgeous Magnus is.

Around him the Institute brightens and hums consideringly and Alec sends it a mental scolding.

He needs to concentrate.

On Magnus.

Well on Magnus’ magic.

[lassieposting]

Fletcher for therapy please

Oh Fletcher would do great in therapy. Like, 10/10 client good job

It'd take him several years - and probably some prompting from Ghastly, whose opinion he respects - to get him to realise he should really go, largely because he's surrounded by a social circle that isn't very open to the concept.

When we meet Fletcher, he's a hurting teenage boy who badly wants approval from a role model. And while he does eventually get some good solid advice (as well as time and empathy) from Ghastly, that's only after he splits up with Val and feels like he has nowhere else to turn. Prior to this, he actually spends several years fruitlessly trying to win that approval from Skug. Which is a problem, because Skug isn't in the market for a surrogate son. He sees Fletcher primarily as a rival for Val's attention and secondarily as a nuisance, which leads to a situation where Fletcher is consistently trying to impress him and getting knocked back. And we see that Fletch remains selfconscious about Skug's opinion of him for years after he gives up trying to bond - he makes two really obvious attempts to reestablish their relationship on an even footing and remove himself from that subordinate clinger-on role (i.e. shaking hands as adults); he clearly expresses that he's not thought of or treated as part of the team; he knows he's Mickey to Skug's Doctor and Val's Rose. He's the tin dog.

And that's the thing: from what we see of Fletcher, he's actually very introspective. When he speaks to Ghastly, he's clearly done a lot of thinking about why and how his life has ended up the way it has. And he's done that all on his own, because who's going to listen to him?

So like. He's not going to ask Skug and Val to recommend a therapist. He knows exactly how they'd react. Skug is an incredibly macho manly man - Special Forces, law enforcement, and from a time before anyone knew or acknowledged that mental health was a thing - so he's fiercely adamant that he, traumatized as he is, doesn't need therapy (ha) and he's openly dismissive of the concept to Val. He'd laugh, or take the piss, or make a shitty little comment, and Val would laugh along with him because that's what they do.

But approval from Ghastly - who's equally macho, equally manly, but far more well adjusted - gives him the confidence to start thinking about it. And then after Moira tries to kill him, he actually makes an appointment.

A lot of Fletcher's issues come down to trust and abandonment. He has no dad. His mom died on him. He's been used and undervalued by Val and Skug and the rest of the gang for years. Val cheated on him. Reflectionie died on him as well. This is a boy for whom nobody has ever stuck around long term. A boy nobody has ever prioritised. And he has to learn to work through the negative impact that has on self-worth and self-esteem, and learn to stop Yes Man-ing Valkyrie and her friends and prioritise himself. And he wants a more normal life - Lardo makes him teach for some reason, I keep him with the Monster Hunters. So that means distancing himself from his ex and the people in her circle, even though he feels like they're all he has. He knows he'll never get to have that more normal life while he's hanging out with people who seem to attract trouble in various eldritch and evil forms. He has to learn boundaries - how to make and defend them. He has to learn to stop being drawn to girls he wants to save, and start looking for partners who are as mature and invested as he is. He has to completely relearn how to relate to others.

And like. He knows he needs these skills. He wants things to get better. So he goes to his sessions, he does his homework. He comes in with theories and suggestions and ideas.

His therapist loves him. Good job, Fletcher.

[delicatenightfury]

Out of the Trench

Month of Writing: Day 12

Pairing: Kaldur'ahm x reader

Prompt:

Word Count: 1,683

Author's Note: please don't steal my work! you can choose to respond to the prompt as well, but don't steal my work

y/n turned her head away from the wave that fell upon her. Her body was forcefully pushed against the rock, putting pressure on the bruises that were already there. She tried to push herself up, get solid footing or find a small ledge to rest against, but the edges of the rock were too small and jagged. There was nowhere to safely position herself. 

Her arms ached from being held above her head for so long. The sides of her body were bruised - one side from constantly being slammed into the rock and the other from having large waves repeatedly hit her. She whimpered slightly as the rock cut her skin. She had lost track of time, of how long she had been there. It felt like eternity.

She had tried using her powers to protect herself, but her hydrokinesis abilities were being suppressed. She didn’t know if it was a physical block or something mental, like her fear was taking control. She couldn’t recall Queen Mera’s lessons well enough at the moment to know if it were possible. Either way, she was unable to stop or soften any oncoming blows.

The rain just made things more miserable.

She froze when she heard a low growl. To a human, the sound would have gone unnoticed. But she was Atlantean, born and raised in the water. She could hear things underwater that others were deaf to. She hated how the water seemed to vibrate at the sound. It was deep, like the thunder rumbling overhead, but the sound sat uncomfortably in her chest. 

She tugged at her chains. Even with her strength, they did not break. She tried to pull harder but knew it was useless. She was too weak and the chains were made specifically for Atlanteans.

y/n turned her gaze to the water. The choppy waves made it slightly harder to see. But the dark forms were unmistakable. 

She watched the bodies as best as she could, but they seemed to be circling. She could see the spiked fins peak through the waves every now and then. y/n couldn’t help the spike of fear that went through her. She had heard horror stories about the Trench, and she had no desire to ever come across the monsters that lived in its dark. But luck did not seem to be on her side. The only advantage she really had was the height of the rock, which sat several yards above the ocean and put some distance between herself and the creatures. 

She was surprised it had taken this long for it to show up. She had been there for hours, maybe days at this point. Had they just been waiting? Dragging out the waiting game so they could eventually go for the kill?

Just then, a head rose from the water. It was covered in scales, its eyes snake like as they scanned for her. When its eyes landed on her, it revealed the rows of sharp teeth. It seemed to be grinning at her. y/n tried to press herself further against the rock, despite the pain, to make herself invisible.

But she was trapped. 

She stared as two more heads appeared and hissed at her. She tried to activate her powers again, anything to shield her from the attack she knew was to come. Her skin glowed as she managed to activate her hydrokinesis abilities. She glared at the creatures and tried to manipulate the water around her to push them away.

Glowing tentacles rose from the water, grabbed hold of several monsters and dragged them back into the ocean. But more started appearing and swimming toward the rock. y/n’s body sagged as she attempted to keep up. An action that should have been so simple for her was taking most of her remaining energy.

She could do nothing but stare as the Trench creatures started their ascent up the rock.

y/n shut her eyes, preparing for the worst that was going to come. She was going to be torn to shreds, and she could barely defend herself. 

Suddenly, she heard a loud shout. Her eyes shot open and darted toward the sound. She watched as a red ship appeared in the sky above her and several figures fell from it. y/n nearly sobbed when she recognized some of her fellow Atlanteans. King Orin led the charge, but Kaldur was close behind. Several other students from the Conservatory were there. Members of Kaldur’s surface team were also present. 

y/n had become so distracted that she didn’t notice the creature that was now feet away. It snarled at her, claws ready to strike. y/n let out a shout.

“y/n!” Kaldur shouted. He used his powers to pull the Trench monster away and kill it. He ran to her side, carefully maneuvering up the rock. He had to use his powers again to keep a good grip. “Do not worry, I will have you out of here.”

“I can’t break the chains,” she said. She knew she sounded panicked. “My strength… it does nothing.”

“It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

Kaldur tried to pull at the chains. His tattoos started glowing as he put more effort into it. y/n glanced behind him at the fight. There were at least eight people fighting the Trench below them, keeping the creatures at bay.

Kaldur huffed in frustration when the chains wouldn’t move.

“Superboy!” he shouted. “I need you!”

A moment later, a boy wearing dark pants and a short sleeved shirt appeared. Superman’s logo was printed on his chest. His clothes were soaked, but he didn’t seem bothered. He apparently understood what Kaldur needed and grabbed the chains. He only glanced briefly at her to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt her before he pulled the chains from the rock.

y/n’s body immediately slid down, collapsing from lack of strength. Kaldur quickly grabbed her and lifted her up.

“Wrap your arms around me,” he encouraged. She did so, wincing slightly from moving her arms. “That’s it, I’ve got you, y/n.”

Suddenly, he began to fly in the air. y/n held tighter to him, shocked.

“What-”

“It’s my friend,” he explained. “She is carrying us to the ship with her powers.”

y/n nodded. She could see that the others were flying as well, though she couldn’t tell who was doing it themselves or who was being carried by Kaldur’s friend. They all floated through the bottom of the ship, which closed after they were safely inside.

“All clear,” someone said. “Take us away from here, Miss Martian.”

A woman with green skin nodded and directed the ship away.

Kaldur moved back to the back of the ship where a bed lay waiting. He set her down on it, but stayed close. He stared at her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“My body hurts,” y/n replied. “I… I could barely use my powers, Kaldur. I couldn’t fight back.”

“It is all right, child.” The two looked at the door to see King Orin approaching.

“My king.” y/n tried to give him a proper greeting and bow.

“There is no need for that, y/n,” he said, waving her off gently. “Do not worry yourself with formalities. You have been through quite an ordeal. The strain likely had an effect on your powers.” His gaze softened. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sore,” she told him. “My body feels weak.”

“I observed many cuts,” Kaldur said. “Are there other injuries?”

“Bruises, I’m sure. I’m not sure the extent of the cuts. But the Trench did not get to me.”

Orin nodded.

“I am glad to hear that. When we return to Atlantis, we will make sure that you receive proper medical treatment. You have my word.”

“Thank you, my king.”

The king nodded again and stepped out of the room. y/n looked at Kaldur, who gently took her hand.

“Are you truly all right?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She leaned into Kaldur’s side. He wrapped his arms around her. She felt him press a kiss to her wet hair. “I fear I won’t be able to sleep well for a time. And I worry about my magic.”

“Whatever challenges you face, I will be there if you wish me to be, y/n,” Kaldur said. “You were very brave.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“We found your message about Ocean Master’s plot and we were able to stop him. The end of the video transmission showed you being taken by Ocean Master. We interrogated him to find out where he had taken you. He was stubborn in releasing that information to us. But we managed. Her majesty had wanted to come as well, but King Orin made her realize that someone needed to remain in Atlantis to watch the kingdom.”

y/n smiled a little. She wasn’t surprised that Queen Mera had wanted to come. The two had become close friends over the years.

“There were many volunteers to get you back,” Kaldur added. “Do you want to see any of them?”

“Not at this moment,” she said. “I think I’m going to fall asleep soon.”

He nodded, understanding.

“Would you like me to leave you to rest?”

She shook her head. Kaldur climbed onto the bed with her and the two laid down. y/n expected the bed to be uncomfortable, but it seemed to adjust to their bodies and become more comfortable. y/n laid her head on Kaldur’s chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, keeping her close as his hands ran over her arm in a calming motion.

“Thank you for coming for me, Kaldur.” Her voice was soft as she began to drift off to sleep.

“Of course. Never doubt that I will. Rest now. We will be back home soon.”

She fell asleep to the sound of his heart and the feeling of his fingers tracing over her skin where her tattoos were. She smiled, feeling safe in his arms.

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

Please, Stay Away

Peculiar!Reader x Miss Peregrine (Platonic!)

You sat in the little window nook in the parlour, staring out at Cairnholm and watching your fellow peculiars have fun without you. It was better for them if you stayed away, alone, where you couldn’t hurt anyone. You were terrified that you could really harm someone with your peculiarity.

This fear has not always been there, however. A few weeks ago, you had completely destroyed Enoch’s re-animated doll after he had freaked you out in surprise. He was still mad at you. He has several choice words to say about you and your ability, and since then you began to slowly withdraw from everyone, thinking that perhaps it would be better for them if you left the loop entirely.

You watched intently as a new peculiar arrived and Miss Peregrine introduced him to everyone. It was only a matter of time before they found you, and you knew you had to hide. You had to protect this newcomer. Even from your vantage point in the window, you could see how Emma looked at him. You couldn’t bear to hurt her feelings by harming him by accident.

You felt the anxiety begin to bubble up within you, and you scarpered from your seat in the window, running to try and find a good place to hide. Trying to breathe and control yourself, the fear of hurting someone was too much, and you couldn’t control the rough spread of ice that slowly started spreading throughout the house.

Several minutes passed before the other peculiars began to notice the ice, as they began slipping on the frosty floor. It didn’t take long for Miss Peregrine to be alerted to the situation as, while she was talking to Jacob, they heard a shriek from inside the house coming from Claire, and the Ymbryne frowned as she saw frost on the grass heading towards her rapidly and becoming a thick layer of ice.

Hearing Claire shriek only made things worse for you. You bolted into your room, forgetting to shut the door in your panic that you were actually going to hurt another peculiar when all you wanted was to keep them safe from you. You felt you weren’t a peculiar at all, just a monster.

You dived under your bed, huddling into yourself, shaking not from the cold but from your fear. The glass from your window shattered from the intense cold your accidental winter was creating. You peeked out to see your entire room was now almost solid ice.

Meanwhile, Miss Peregrine had gathered the children and got them to a safer place outside the home. Emma and Olive offered to go into town to get a little treat for you to help you feel better, and Jacob was tagging along. Once they had left the Ymbryne headed off to deal with whatever was going on with you.

The icy stairs were too difficult to try and climb and Alma knew she would be of no use if she hurt herself. So, she quickly turned into her falcon form and flew upstairs, returning to her human form just outside your door. Slowly she advanced into the room, the cautious click clack of her heels alerting you that you were no longer alone.

“Please, stay away from me!” You begged, curling into yourself more, trying to hide your hands into yourself to stop the ice spreading, but to no avail. “I don’t want to hurt you, please...” Your voice cracked as tears rolled down your cheeks, only to start to freeze halfway down.

Miss Peregrine stayed by the door, her arms folded as she tried not to shiver. “You’re not going to hurt me, Y/N.” She paused, tilting her head. “Why do you think so?” You started explaining what Enoch had said to you, and how it had made you feel. As you did so, Miss Peregrine slowly got closer and closer until she was at the foot of your bed. Grabbing your frosty blanket and placing it on the floor to protect her knees (both from the ice and the glass) she knelt down and bent her head to look at you under the bed.

“It was very wrong of him to say such things, Y/N. You should know that you have a wonderful gift. Think of all the help you have managed to give us every day with it. Your peculiarity doesn’t make you a monster, it adds to your perfections.” She said the words so sincerely, that you couldn’t help but believe her. You thought about how lucky you were to live in the loop and have such a wonderful Ymbryne to look after you. Hesitantly, you edged your way out from underneath your bed, and sat beside Miss Peregrine on the blanket. She reached out to gently pick off the frozen tears on your face which made you smile.

“What do you say we clear all this ice off?” Alma asked, making you laugh as you nodded, putting your hands onto the icy floor and sucking in all the cold back into you. You waited until you heard all the other peculiars chatting and giggling, knowing that you must have succeeded. You smiled resolutely up at Miss Peregrine, who proceeded to pull you into a tight hug. You really did have the best home in the World.

[rachelillustrates]

So I'm rewatching "The Best Revenge is Dressing Well" (surprise! Said no one) and one thing I've noticed that first struck me kinda weird, but I wanna talk through, is the slight level of competition/personal jealousy between our co-captains before the party goes to shit and they come together at the end.

(Image from The Verge.)

We go into the episode from Ed's perspective, mostly - this is the first time we get any solid, personally emotional backstory on him, focused specifically around racism and class difference (done SO WELL, as has already been mentioned) so we know he's already hyperfocused on "winning" this situation, getting the approval of who he was taught by his mother to be his "betters," even though he knows - logically, as an adult, as we saw in what he said to the captain they took down - that that's not necessarily true, it just still feels like it is, to him. So, he's very invested in impressing them, already.

Stede - who doesn't even want to be there - should, theoretically, not care so much about that approval himself - but as we see, he starts acting a little jealous when Ed takes attention away from him, which makes the partygoers a) ignore him or b) antagonize him outright whenever he tries to get a word in. From there, he scoffs - at first - at Ed's continued attempts to impress them (the piano playing, the minor shenanigans) and then removes himself from the situation entirely - looking for Frenchie and Olu, and then taking refuge in the quiet on deck.

I think its important to note that in the opening of the episode, as he and his crew are supposed to be learning from Ed's crew in the raid, he's not exactly on the most confident of footing - he identifies several bad habits, as he points out, one of which we see Ed correct (the swap-looting) as well as needing Ed's help with interrogation tactics (as much as Ed's behavior there interested him in.... other ways). So to him, being among the gentry again, I think he expects to be at least on equal or equalish footing with them, and to hopefully impress Ed in the process since these are "his people."

But the point is - they're not. They abandon him for Ed the moment Ed proves more interesting, insulting him, even - which Ed plays into, out of his own desire to be approved of - which is probably very triggering for Stede, because of his history of being bullied. AND because of wanting to be accepted, himself, and once again failing to reach that. And what's more comfortable than feeling powerless in the face of all that, as always? A little jealousy, especially since - with their approval on (what seems, at first to be) his own terms - Ed doesn't "need" Stede's guidance here after all. That, of course, enmeshed with genuine concern that these people will drop Ed, like they dropped him, which we do see him express - only to be ignored, again. So not only is he not popular with them, but his expertise of what happens with these types of people after they tire of you is discarded, as well. Leaving Stede in a very powerless situation, once again.

I think its also interesting to note, that considering that Stede's trying to win in Ed's world (piracy) and Ed's trying to win in Stede's (aristocracy) - especially with the excuse of the "plan" to take Stede's place - the idea of competition is already subconsciously there, in a sense. On top of the fact that in friendships of the same (perceived) gender, competition can often be encouraged by society at large, too - which pops up a LOT in the kind of "buddy comedy" stories that more mainstream folks seem to have assumed this story was, at first.

So I think the writers were trying to address all that and nip it in the bud.

Because, of course, that all goes to hell - Ed makes a mistake with the spoons, and they turn on him too, which sends him right back to Stede. At first, with intentions to take care of the situation himself, violently. But here Stede steps up for real - facing the situation for what it is, jealousy and fears of inadequacy be damned - and showing up for the person he was supposed to be there for in the first place. That, as always, is where his true power is found - being true to himself, AND to the people in his care. Even telling Ed to stand down, and let him handle it. Ed may not be capable of meeting them where they're at, when it turns verbally-cruel (except to turn deserved physical violence on them), but Stede can. And does, with the use of Frenchie and Abshir's knowledge - hysterically, taking them all down - getting them to take themselves down - in a manner that ends in violence after all (which they, again, technically visit upon themselves - just like the demise of both Badmintons).

And that - having to step up and be there for Ed and let go of the idea of giving any fucks about what these folk expect of him, approve of, etc. - gets them back on track (and is kind of great foreshadowing for what happens in the last episode, and what will come next, I hope I hope). There is no note of individual jealousy or competition, really, at all between them from then on - even the banter during the swordfighting lessons is charged with just flirting and affection, no any real sense of trying to win one over the other, and the jealousy over Calico Jack's appearance later is about that relationship, not about Ed being better than Stede or vice versa. Any trace of that is done with - they've moved past it.

Leaving wide, open space for Stede to catch Ed at his softest, most vulnerable so far, looking at the red silk again after the party's rejection. And to offer him praise - calling him sophisticated after all, and meaning it, because what he's seen of Ed so far - already - is truer than any of the bullshit pandering and passive aggression the upper crust displayed to either of them.

Sophisticated means: "having, revealing, or proceeding from a great deal of worldly experience and knowledge of fashion and culture."

So what Ed's shown him, both in his own experience as a pirate and his own willingness to learn about new things and deal with people who - Stede knows - are less than both of them after all, THAT fits the word much better than any idea of high society.

🍊💕

[caerwynherondale]

Duel to the Death

Caerwyn was anxious. It had been several days since the incident in the library, since Louis had threatened Beavens, since he had taken her to the safety of the showers to help her wash up, to remove any of the remaining disgusting trace of the older Gryffindor who had done her so wrong and fill her with the kind of love she needed. Louis was on a war path. There was no convincing him that the duel was not a good idea, that even if they were off school grounds, there was a possibility of him getting expelled. Caerwyn had tried, telling him that it was better to just let it go, to ignore Beavens and just… get on with their lives. It wasn’t like her to avoid fights like this, she would have normally been the one throwing the first punch, to take on whomever had wronged her… except when it came to Beavens. He was an anomaly and Louis had decided to take it upon himself to take care of the rotten fucking bastard. It was what he did though, Louis. Taking care of Caerwyn in every single way he possibly could as often as he could. Sometimes he did it even when she tried to refuse it, and in the end, it always turned out that he was right. She did need him to look after her, at least to a point. Now, he had determined that it was necessary to take care of her in this way too, to make Beavens pay for his misdeeds and demolish him in every way possible. As the days before the duel came to an end, Caerwyn had nearly bitten through her bottom lip with worry. One, because while Louis was a good fighter, he was also a year younger than Beavens and therefore, knew less magic. That meant he was at a disadvantage, but at the same time, what Louis lacked with magic, he more than made up for with intensity and a whole lot of ass kicking under his belt already.

As dawn approached on the day of the duel, Caerwyn’s eyes were already open, staring across the dimly lightening Ravenclaw sixth year boys dorm. Louis was warm at her back, wrapped tightly around her. The book he had been studying lay open on the foot of the bed, the one Caerwyn had tugged away from him, insisting on some much needed sleep before the big day. She had barely rested properly herself, worry filling her as she’d laid there, tucked safely beneath her boyfriend’s chin as he had drifted off. She had maybe gotten a couple of hours at most, scattered and restless until she just simply couldn’t keep her eyes shut any longer. Instead, she stayed still, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Louis’s chest against her back, the soothing beat of his heart, and the solid weight of his arms around her, keeping her close and safe. Soon though, Caerwyn began to shift, unable to stay still any longer once the sun had come most of the way over the horizon. She slipped out from under the blanket, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to where her boots sat, set neatly side by side where she would be able to get to them easily enough. She had opted for stealing a pair of Louis’s pajama pants and a hoodie for the night, her day clothes safely tucked away in the top of her boyfriend’s trunk. She would change into the before she left, but not just yet. Instead, she turned her head, looking down at the sleeping face of her lover. Louis looked peaceful at the moment, not at all how he had recently, the anger in his eyes clear as he had spent hours studying, practicing spells in order to prepare himself properly.

Caerwyn sighed, bringing one leg back up on her bed as she allowed the other to dangle, turning her body enough to reached out and press some of the floppy hair off of Louis’s forehead. He would need another haircut soon, before it got too long and started bothering him like it had before she’d given it a good trim on his birthday. She stroked lightly along his brow, hoping he would stay asleep, miss the duel… Maybe if she put some kind of mild draft in something and gave it to him in order to keep him down long enough to sleep until the evening. It wouldn’t work, she knew. Louis was too clever for something like that and he’d be even more pissed off when he woke even if he did fall for it. She sat there, watching him sleep as the first true rays of sunlight came down through the tall windows, bringing a golden glow to the room that she would have usually missed by sleeping through it. She stayed put, just watching Louis sleep, but he eventually began to stir,  making her heart sink as the sun finally reached his face. With another sigh, Caerwyn brought her other leg up onto the bed and leaned over the redhead, pressing a light kiss to his lips. She waited until his brown eyes were opening and stroked at his cheek. “Morning, Fuckface.”

Reaching up, Caerwyn tugged the open curtain on his bed closed and rolled, tossing a leg over her boyfriend and resting her ass down on his pelvis. The tiny Gryffindor bent forward, hand finding Louis’s chin as her lips captured his again, pressing harder this time. Her tongue sought easy entrance, an idea having formed in her head. If she couldn’t keep Louis asleep, then maybe she could distract him long enough, keep him busy enough, so that he would forget about the duel entirely. She deliberately pressed her hips down and reached for one of his hands, tugging it by the wrist until she was able to press his palm carefully to the swell of her ass, knowing that this was the best way to keep his attention.

[morocosmos]

Febuwhump Day 12 - “Can You Hear Me?”

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Relationships: Leofard Myste/Warrior of Light (Pre-Relationship) Content/Trigger Warnings: Brief mention of blood

The voidsent had swooped into Leofard’s line of sight faster than a manacutter. A larger fellow, different from the swarm of imps they were already contending with.

Stacia had been a half-dozen or so yalms to his left, Moro’a behind him – must’ve been him shouting for them to run, but he'd been just a little too late…then, the explosion. Leofard feels it first: a heat-laced impact that sends him flying, followed by a white-hot flash and a noise louder than an Alabathian storm. He hits the ground rolling, grunting as a stray piece of debris grazes past his temple, thinking back to Diabolos’s ambush. Well this is grimly familiar. More pieces fly past Leofard and he instinctively curls up, shielding his head.

When nothing else comes his way he lifts his arms. It's…difficult to get his bearings, but the new voidsent seems to have vanished; Leofard thinks he catches a glimpse of an ink blue tail a ways off.

Battered by the debris as he'd been, his eyes have gone mercifully unscathed, thank the winds for that! His body's bruised and aching in more than one place from the tumble, but it's nothing incapacitating; it's the ringing in his ears that’s the real bother, along with the accompanying vertigo it’s sent his head into. Gods, but he’s finding it hard to tell the ground from the sky when he moves.

Slowly, Leofard gets onto his hands and knees – me revolver, where’s me revolver? – and he’s barely gotten one foot on the ground when danger sends an ominous jolt through him. From the corner of his eye, there’s something bright–

Blast it! He dives forward, barely evading the imp's fireball, but the way his vision spins into a sickening somersault as he lurches is almost just as bad, and now he’s proper nettled. Seven spittin' hells, he can't even figure out what's coming or going on account of this godsdamned ringing! Let him stand up and find his weapon at the very least! Survival kicks in, and he's lunging for what looks like cover. The outdoor table is solid, alright, and he presses back against it, hoping to find his footing once more.

Leofard tries to stand, only to clutch his head with one hand as he falters. It hurts. He's far too dizzy, and he still can’t hear a thing beyond the ringing – just what in the seven hells is wrong with him…?

As a terrible possibility sinks in, he feels a real chill travel down his spine. The explosion might’ve just done his ears in – screwed with his hearing, his balance – oh, swive me sideways…

He looks up in time to see a crowd of imps descend menacingly into view, rapidly closing in on him. No arms, no means of defence or even to run, just his back to the wall like a mouse cornered by the coeurls. Leofard grits his teeth; let them try! He'll take each on every one of them with his bare hands before he’ll back down!

But just then, a ring of magical orbs materialises out of the very air, sending the imps scattering; as the sky pirate blinks, a second, crackling wave of energy follows, taking out several of them and knocking the rest out of the sky. Despite the peril of it all, Leofard can’t help but grin as Moro’a steps into view.

Just look at you…stealin’ the show as always.

The Keeper fends off the imps with more spell-slinging, and as the rest of the Redbills rejoin the fray the voidsent are gone before long, killed or sent fleeing from the Parrock for distant skies.

With a relieved expression, Moro'a turns round to face Leofard, who’s reminded of his sour predicament as he tries to make sense of the shapes Moro’a’s mouth makes. It’s harder than he’d hoped it would be; the other man frowns, and there’s a shorter phrase, followed by another as he starts walking towards Leofard. A question?

‘Can you hear me’? Taking a stab in the dark, Leofard shakes his head.

Moro’a’s expression abruptly shifts from confusion to alarm; he approaches, kneeling down and reaching out to touch the side of Leofard’s head as the hyur flinches in surprise. What is he…? His hand comes away, and the tips of his two fingers are red with blood. Shite. His ears really are done for, eh?

Could he still fly? Could he still run, let alone even walk on his own? Something must show on his face, because Utata's looking at him all worried too, and Moro'a's hand is now firmly clasped on his shoulder. Leofard almost bats him away; gods, don't pity him, it's the last thing he wants on this star, just–

But there’s that clear blue gaze, and the way it’s staring into him. Resolution, not pity. Moro’a pulls his hand back and shifts around, reaching for his magical focus. Leofard easily recognises the contraption: a planisphere, faintly similar to the ones he’d seen in Ishgard when he’d peek through the dusty windows of the Astrologicum…it’s a curious, fanciful thing, glowing faintly as large cards rotate lazily around its centre. It’s only then that it occurs to the hyur that a healer as accomplished as Moro’a might just have the chops to fix his ears.

More mildly fascinated now than apprehensive, Leofard watches as Moro’a plucks out a card, eyes narrowing as he examines its face. Whatever the verdict is, it seems satisfactory, for the card glows and suffuses the healer's hand with sparkling aether before returning to its place. Moro'a shuffles closer, reaching out for him again, and this time Leofard lets him without hesitation.

He feels…water? There shouldn’t be any about, and yet the sensation of it is nothing short of real, flowing through and around his head in cooling streams. It would be alarming to feel through his ears, were it not something so undeniably magical.

Moro'a's eyes are shut, and only his mouth moves, lost in the focus of his spellwork as Leofard watches him. Or more precisely, that he can't stop watching him…wondering how those lips might move against his own…

The world seems to shift, like a veil has lifted before his eyes and just like that, Leofard hears Moro'a exhale as he pulls away. The wind gusts, motors whirr and engines hum, and there’s that voice he’s come to so look forward to hearing, asking him if he’s alright – all prettier than a hundred sunsets.

[bertiemaklinn]

May I please request BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO, Falling through ice? I thought of this after seeing buck slip on ice and Eddie looked fond/amused?

Title: 

Fandom: 9-1-1

Pairing: Buddie

Prompt: Falling through ice - @badthingshappenbingo

Summary: Buck falls through ice into a freezing lake

“Chris, buddy, this snowman is going to be awesome.” Buck turned to face the boy, having just placed the torso on said snowman. Chris was gathering snow into another ball for the head. 

Chris looked up at Buck, but his attention was soon taken away by something behind him. “Buck, Dad, look.” He pointed over Buck’s shoulder, and they all turned to look.

There, on the frozen lake behind them, was a baby deer skidding on the ice. It seemed to be stuck. Buck didn’t even think before taking a step towards it. 

“Buck, what are you doing?” Eddie asked, reaching out to place his hand on the other man’s arm. 

Buck looked over at Eddie with a smile. “I’m just going to help it off the ice. No doubt Bambi’s mum is out there somewhere waiting for him to come home.”

“Just be careful, ok, we don’t know how thick the ice is and whether it will hold you.”

Buck grinned and took another step towards the deer, taking him out onto the lake. At least he was being cautious, Eddie thought, as Buck tested his weight with one foot on the ice. It held, so he stepped out. 

He made it all of two steps before he skidded and fell. Even though Eddie’s heart leapt into his throat, he chuckled when Chris practically cackled in response. The deer, startled by the thud that Buck made, tried to run away but only collapsed as it, too, slipped on the ice. 

Buck got to his feet again and carried on towards the animal. He skipped and slipped a couple more times, each time pulling a laugh from Chris, but he remained standing. Then, when he was just a few feet from the deer, he fell again. He crashed hard onto the ice, and then disappeared through it. 

Eddie rushed out after him, as fast as he could without risking going through the ice himself and making the whole situation a hundred times worse. “Chris,” he called to his son as he passed him, “go inside and turn the heat up as much as you can. Then get the blankets off of my bed and bring them into the living room.” 

Buck has already managed to pull himself through the hole he made and is scrambling across the ice when Eddie reaches him. He’s breathing heavy and Eddie could make out his shaking when he was still several feet away. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the deer running off the ice and disappearing into the trees. 

Eddie helped Buck to his feet, almost completely supporting him, and they crept their way off the ice and back onto solid ground. Once they reached it, they were able to move faster to back to their cabin. 

Eddie wasted no time starting to strip Buck out of his clothes once they were inside. Buck batted his hands away. “Stop, it’s cold.”

“I know, Buck, we’re gonna get you warm soon, but your clothes will only make you colder, so we need to get them off.” Buck still fought, but luckily he was shaking too hard to manage to put up much of a decent fight. 

The moment he was free of the wet clothes, Eddie pushed him onto the sofa and began wrapping him in the blankets that Chris held out to him. The blankets alone wouldn’t be enough to warm Buck up – not fast enough anyway – when he wasn’t producing much body heat on his own. So, Eddie ran out to his car, dug around in the first aid kit for a foil blanket and brought that inside. 

Buck was reluctant to release his grip on the blankets for long enough for Eddie to climb in behind him and wrap them both in the foil blanket with the others on top. Buck relaxed against him, as much as his trembling muscles would allow. 

Gradually, he warmed up and the shaking slowed down to nothing. Eddie didn’t try to get out from next to him… he wasn’t ready to yet. He just wanted to hold Buck for a little while longer. 

“Feeling better, now?”

Buck nodded and gathered the blankets, and Eddie’s arms around him, tighter to his body. “Yeah, thanks.”

[randomfandomdreaming]

Not Your Typical Victim

This is a little thing I’ve had rolling around in my brain since watching the first Halloween film, wondering how Michael would react if he were to find out that his victim was more like him than he thought. It’s not put together well and hasn’t been edited, but I hope you guys like it. 😊

TW: mention of killing, suicide and hospitals, Michael being Michael.

༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄

Michael Myers had been watching a house in Haddonfield, Illinois for a solid four days. He was stalking a single girl who lived alone, fully intent on killing her before the night was over. He watched as her car pulled into the driveway, the engine turning off after a few moments. He watched the girl exit the car and start pulling bags from the backseat, shutting the door with her foot. She made her way to the front door, setting a couple bags down to unlock it. Michael slowly made his way across the street, getting closer to her house. Right as she managed to dig her keys out her pocket, two of the bags she still held ripped. She stopped and just stared down at them.

‘I’m going to fucking kill myself…’ she sighed, bending down to begin to collect the runaway groceries. He hadn’t expected to hear her say that. He watched as she finished fixing her groceries and she unlocked the door, heading inside. Michael moved to a window, looking inside. He watched as she put the groceries away, noting where she kept her knives. When she was finished, she sat down on her couch to watch television. Michael thought it ironic that she chose a type of slasher movie to watch.

It was Halloween, but the air was warm. The girl had several of her windows opened slightly to allow a breeze through. Michael could hear the sounds of the horror film, as well as the phone ringing. The girl rolled her eyes and stood, moving to the phone to answer it.

‘Hello?’ She was silent as she listened to the other person. ‘Ha ha, very funny, David. Happy Halloween to you, too.’ More silence. ‘Wait, someone’s trying to call. Give me a second.’ She switched calls. ‘Yes?’ There was a longer period of silence, during which Michael saw her features change from tired to extremely angry. ‘Listen here, fuckface,’ she spat into the receiver. ‘I told you to leave me alone.’ She slammed the receiver down, accidentally putting the call on speaker.

‘And I told you that we weren’t done.’ It was a male’s voice.

‘Bitch, I said we were done. Take no for an answer and get your ass out of my life! You were caught, and you’re too proud to admit you were a jerk. Actually, jerk doesn’t even begin to cover what you are.’

‘After everything I helped you with, you’re just gonna leave me?’

‘Absolutely. You fucking cheated on me and then tried to say it was my fault! Stop contacting me before the police get involved.’ She hung up, walking to the kitchen. Michael watched as she leaned against the counter for a moment before angrily pushing everything to the floor. He watched her as rage took hold. She grabbed a knife and held it by the tip on the blade. She threw it and it lodged itself into the wall, fairly deep. Michael was actually impressed. She was panting now, the adrenaline already beginning to wear off. ‘May misfortune find you for the rest of your days, you fuck,’ she muttered to herself. She flopped down onto her couch, her eyes glued to the television. Michael could see she genuinely enjoyed horror movies. He wondered if she would act just like the girls in the movies she loved.

There was a knock at her door, and she begrudgingly stood to answer it. Michael had a perfect view from where he stood, looking in. There was a man at her door.

‘Amanda, please,’ he said.

‘Get off my property. Now.’

‘I had to make sure you’re okay. They say there’s a killer on the loose.’

‘And I hope he gets you.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘Yes, I do. Now leave, or I’m calling the cops.’ She slammed the door in his face, forcing him to leave. She sat back down on her couch, watching the television again. ‘I’d murder you myself if I had the courage to,’ she said quietly to herself.

—

Michael moved slowly through the girl’s house, a kitchen knife firmly in his hand. He made his way to her room, finding her asleep. He wanted to relish this one. He moved around to her side of the bed. He grabbed her by her neck and pulled her from her bed, tossing her to the floor. She barely made a sound even though she was now wide awake. She looked up at him, her eyes wide in fear. He crouched down, tilting his head to the side as he made it known he had a knife. He reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand. She shrank away from his touch, but not out of fear. That reaction was one Michael had seen before. He himself had shied away from others touching him. He watched her, his head still tilted. Her arms were held out in front of her face, shielding it. That’s when he noticed a hospital bracelet around her wrist. He tilted his head the other way, his eyes on the bracelet. It was one from the psychiatric ward of a hospital two towns over. She must have been recently released. Or she escaped. He knew in that moment that she wouldn’t die. She was too like him. He couldn’t kill her after all.

Her eyes were closed, already accepting what was about to happen. But it never came. She heard something metallic lightly hit the floor. She slowly opened her eyes to find him staring at her, the knife no longer in his grasp.

‘Aren’t you… going to kill me…?’ she asked. He watched her, saying nothing. Her eyes darted to the knife for a moment, but her gaze rested on Michael. She showed no signs of trying to go for it, just acknowledging it was there. She was either extremely good at hiding her intentions, or she genuinely didn’t want to try it. ‘Th-That’s what you do, right…? Y-You’re here and everyone s-says if someone sees you, th-then they die…’ She was still scared of him at least. Good. Michael leaned toward her slightly, causing her to try to back away. Her back was already pressed against the side of her bed. ‘I-If you’re gonna kill me, just do it. Stop making me wait.’ Michael was genuinely confused. Usually people begged him not to kill them. This girl kept bringing up why he was there, as if she wanted to die. He tilted his head the other way, continuing his silence. She fell silent, watching him. She slowly pushed herself up off the floor, her eyes never leaving him. Michael made no move to stop her. He would still restrain her if he needed to.

She sat on the edge of her bed and Michael finally stood, picking the knife up off the floor. He moved to leave the room when he heard her move on the bed.

‘Wait!’ He stopped and faced her. ‘If you want someone to kill, turn right when you leave through the front door and go five houses down. I think you might enjoy that one.’ He searched her expression for anything that might show she was sending him into a trap, but there was none. Instead, there was a smile on her face. Anyone other than Michael would have found it unsettling, insane even. She was being sincere. Michael silently turned and left her room, leaving her house and heading for the one she had mentioned. He knew exactly who she had sent him to and his grip on the knife tightened.

[moon3thereal]

I have a request with Nat x reader. It’s a party at the compound and nobody has ever seen Nat drunk but this night she was completely gone like blackout drunk. So you end up having to carry her to her room and take care of her but she accidentally admits her love for you, you end up sleeping on the armchair in the room and in the morning you wake up to a Nat that’s throwing up on the floor, at first she don’t remember shit but later during the day she remembered what she said and gets really flustered and embarrassed but it ends I fluff reader admits her love for Nat to

Title: Drunken Confessions

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: alcohol

a/n: thank you for the request! happy reading <3

1.4k

Everyone knew Tony Stark loved the glamour of his extravagant parties often threw in the Avengers tower. Everyone also knew that while everyone else got batshit drunk, the black widow never got even slightly tipsy after several rounds of drinking games when everyone else was drunk enough to strip to their undergarments and start pole dancing. She always only watched with a hint of amusement glinting in her emerald eyes

That led to the bet going on amongst the other Avengers, Tony threw in a solid 500 dollars to whoever got Natasha drunk while the others put in smaller amounts. Thor had been lurking around with a smug grin for a whole 5 minutes since the party had started, you had no doubt that he’d been up to no good and opted not to touch the alcohol at the bar for tonight.

Spotting a certain redhead, you sidled up to the bar in your new dress that you definitely haven’t bought to impress her and new heels that again, you definitely didn’t buy to awe her. “Someone put in effort for tonight’s party” Natasha said, dropping her gaze to your heels and all the way up until she met your eyes “trying to impress someone?” she winked teasingly. Damn it, were you that obvious “Steve maybe?” she pressed, seating yourself on one of the rotatable, red leather stools you laughed “I don’t swing that way”

Natasha hummed in acknowledgement “me neither” she said. You turned to look at her so quickly that you thought you may have given yourself whiplash “Then…You and Bruce?” you asked cautiously “there’s a reason that didn’t work out” she said, taking a sip of her martini and sending her glass a peculiar look “you’re new?” she asked the bartender “no ma’am I’ve been working here for three years” Natasha’s lips formed into a silent ‘oh’ and you stifled a laugh

After a few more glasses of alcohol, Natasha was clearly very drunk, the rest of the avengers who hadn’t seen Thor’s expression of obvious smugness had drunk the alcohol unknowingly too and Tony and Steve were challenging each other to a dance off. In their boxers. You watched with amusement and second-hand embarrassment. Meanwhile, the Russian that was the heart of all this chaos was standing across the room apparently having an argument with Clint about whether the walls are green or red. The walls are white. Then it suddenly clicked in your mind, the only alcohol that could get her so shockingly drunk, Asgardian liquor

Of course, why hadn’t you thought about it before. Thor was incredibly competitive even if he didn’t look it. You continued sitting aside from all the havoc erupting on the party floor taking tentative sips from the water you’d brought, keeping an eye on Natasha before she does something stupid. Normally that was her job, unbeknownst to you, Natasha always looked out for you during Tony’s parties, knowing your alcohol tolerance wasn’t exactly high.

Glancing at the clock, you could see that it was almost 3 in the morning and the noises had died down and all the Avengers were splayed out on the couch only half awake, Natasha was half laid half seated on two bar stools barely keeping herself upright. Deciding that you really didn’t want her to fall off and give herself a concussion, you tugged at her sleeve “come on Nat, we’re going back to your bedroom” she smirked at you with her painted lips which were normally perfect but tonight, they were slightly smudged, you liked the look on her though

“Bedroom? Getting frisky already y/l/n?” you raised your eyebrows while helping her off the chair and draping your jacket around her shoulders “getting concerned about how drunk you are” you corrected. Natasha hummed and after a few steps let her head slump onto your shoulder, you were half supporting and half carrying her but you were glad she wasn’t sober right now because your heart was probably going a million miles a minute, her hair smelt so nice, her tresses were gently tickling your neck

Caught up in your thoughts you had to abruptly steer Natasha towards her bedroom before she walked directly into a wall. Practically dumping her onto the bed with a huff from the exertion of dragging her all the way back to her room, you pulled off her heels and hung up the jacket “I love y/n, don’t you think she’s just so pretty, she’s so smart too and how she fights, it’s soooo hot” she slurred and your cheeks heated up.

You were ready to dismiss it as a hallucination, you had feelings for the redhead, you’d been harboring them for a good 2 months because you thought they’d never be reciprocated. But Natasha turned to you “do you think she likes me too?” she asked “yeah, yeah I’m sure she does” you whispered. Natasha seemed to hear it, she sighed contentedly and let her eyes close. Making your way out of the room, you heard her say “stay” it was barely a whisper but you heard it and you could never refuse her

So you slumped onto her chair with your chin supported by the heel of your hand just appreciating how gorgeous she looked even blackout drunk, ginger hair all over the place and smudged makeup. It sounded creepy but you were really just taking the advantage of being able to stare at her now before she’s sober again tomorrow and your act of indifference had to come up again.

You didn’t know at what point you fell asleep but you woke up to Natasha rushing to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet. Hastily pulling her hair back into a ponytail, you rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. She glanced up at you when she was done and flushed the toilet “why are you here?” she asked while rinsing her mouth in the sink and holding a hand to her head while wincing. You tried to hide your disappointment, last night it was the alcohol speaking, not her, it didn’t even make sense that she would remember it, really. “you couldn’t stay on your feet on your own, let alone walk back to your room, I wanted to make sure you were okay so I slept in that armchair” you gestured to the armchair at the corner of her room

“You didn’t have to do that” she said “but I’m glad you did, thank you” sending you a tired smile. You squeezed her shoulder “I’m gonna go make some breakfast you want some?” you asked at her doorway ��please” she said while removing the makeup from the night before. You nodded and made your way to the kitchen

Once you step foot in the kitchen, you saw Thor with a triumphant smile on his face and the rest of the Avengers grumbling, you slapped a 50 dollar note on the table, shaking your head amusedly as you passed by. Thor’s grin widened further as he stuffed the money into his pocket. There were pancakes in the pan, courtesy of Wanda most probably. You put two each on separate plates, slathering Nutella on yours and drizzling syrup on Natasha’s. you made some coffee and poured out two mugs

When you came back to the table, Natasha was already seated wearing a hoodie, one of yours you realized with a skip of your heartbeat, and sweatpants. Setting the plate and mug of coffee in front of her, you took a seat and dug in.

It was only in the afternoon when you and Natasha were working on reports that her cheeks suddenly went pink and she stared at you with an expression of mortification. You frowned at her sudden distress and walked over to her “what’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely concerned. “last night, what I said, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t, I mean, I do feel that way, but if you don’t it’s completely understandable and I-” you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers, the feeling of her lips against yours was heavenly, they were soft and tasted like her vanilla and cherry chapstick.

“I love you too” you whispered slightly dazed from the fact that you’d just kissed Natasha and that she hadn’t pulled away “show me how much” she said and kissed you again.

Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley

[mimzy-writing-online]

Writing Toph Beifong, Advice from a Blind Writer

I’m Mimzy, an actual visually impaired writer and blogger who talks a lot about writing blind characters accurately and sensitively. A while back someone sent me an anon asking how to write Toph more accurately and sensitively.

Anonymous asked: Hi there! Your blog has been super-helpful already - I thought I knew a bit about writing with blind characters, but it turns out there was a lot to learn - but this is more specific. I'm writing a The Last Airbender fanfiction, and one of the characters is Toph. I think the fandom has done a fairly good job of respecting her blindness, but what are some things you'd like to see when people write her? I want to represent the character as best as possible; thanks in advance!

It’s taken a while for me to answer because I have a lot of thoughts about it as both a blind writer and someone who has read a lot of atla fanfiction. So here we go:

Before we get started, I want to mention some things: 

One: I have an entire series for writing blind characters that continues to grow with time and the most up-to-date version can be found pinned as the top post on my blog. There will be a time-stamp for when the post was last edited and a long series of links to all relevant posts on the subject.

Here’s a quick link to that post, but again, all you have to do is click my blog url and you’ll find it immediately.

Two: I’ve noticed something amazing about the atla fandom and I would like to thank you for it. I’ve noticed a lot of bloggers have taken to writing image descriptions for both the fanart and memes you post in the fandom, whether it’s OP including the description or another blogger adding it themselves. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a fandom so consistently doing this and that’s incredible. Realizing how many different blogs were picking up this habit has warmed my heart.

I’d like to see writers use her other senses. There’s soooo so much more to her O&M (Orientation and Mobility) than earth sense. 

Beyond sight and earth bending, there’s hearing, touch, smell, taste, sense of direction, hot vs cold, sense of pain, sense of where your body parts are in relation to the rest of you, sense of internal well-being, etc. Before Toph had mastery of her earth bending, she had to have mastery of those too.

Toph also must have very strong opinions about certain smells, sounds, tastes, and textures. Toph is opinionated about everything, and when so much of your understanding of the world depends on senses that most people are ignoring in favor of some other sense you don’t have, it gets frustrating. I’m sure that tree looks pretty but the smell is terrible. Who cares if this fabric looks pretty, it’s scratchy, do. not. like. at. all.

But also in positive ways too. Oh, that flower arrangement looks bland and monochromatic? Who cares, it smells sweet and honey-like. Weird dark cavern with high ceiling and no light? The harmonics are awesome.

Every character probably has a certain sight or image they’re particularly fond of: Katara watching snow fall, or Aang enjoying how small the world looks from up on Appa, or Zuko enjoying the sunrise every morning during meditation. In that line, Toph must have some things personal to her that she enjoys.

I imagine she likes the taste of foods familiar to her childhood, the smell of whatever flowers grew around her home, and the texture of certain kinds of dirt Example: loose dirt probably isn’t the best for seeing, but I think she would enjoy how it feels to run her fingers through it or maybe enjoy the way it softens her perception of the world the same way sighted people like to see colorful, bright lights reflecting off puddles in the middle of rain.

If you struggle with this, that’s okay. I recommend taking some time to think about it for yourself, to find what tastes and smells and textures and sounds you enjoy the most, what makes you feel safe and at home, what brings you comfort, and relate that back to Toph.

In a Modern AU, I want to see Toph have a cane. Even in a Modern AU with bending included in the world building, I think Toph would benefit from having a cane.

The cane has a lot more function than bumping into things. A big part is that it signals to others that you are very obviously blind. Which is a big deal because sighted people are really, really bad at spotting the blind person.

(psst, please stop saying ‘the blank look in her eyes’ because I swear to god it’s been killing me inside for years.)

Also, even in an AU with bending, I think Toph would like the advantage of tapping her cane to create a stronger, more distinct vibration than a small shifting of her weight on her feet. It would have more control.

You could give Toph a guide animal, buuuuuuut, um, Toph is not a guide dog person. Like, there are some people who definitely prefer a guide dog, and some people who definitely prefer a cane, and some who definitely prefer no mobility device at all. Toph does not have the vibes of someone who wants to be both responsible and reliant on an animal when she’s so insistent that she can take care of herself on her own. Toph likes animals, but not that much.

Although, yeah, only 10% of the blind community use mobility devices, so cane and guide dog users are the minority of the blind community, but I stand by the vibe that Toph would love the independence of a cane. Also, it’s almost never ever done. Modern AUs never seem to touch much on Toph’s O&M skills with canes or guide dogs.

I wrote a whole post on everything you need to know about canes, what orientation and mobility is, how you learn O&M, what kind of canes exist, how to use them, how to describe the sensory input a cane gives you, and everything I know about guide dogs from past research.

Honestly, you could give Toph (or any blind character) a cane in any AU, because I fully stand by the theory that canes are a piece of technology that has been invented, lost, and reinvented again and again.

I wrote “I found a piece of lost blindness history” a few months ago after a visit to see my grandparents. My grandmother told me how her blind aunt found a way to write letters by hand to send to my grandmother when she was a child. I speculated on how the long cane has probably been invented and then lost and then reinvented over and over again in history, as well as giving a little history on the growing popularity of guide dogs in the 20th century following World War 1.

About the “blank look in her eyes,” I have a theory to the exact cause and nature of Toph’s blindness.

I know it’s common to think that the milky green color of her eyes is why she’s blind, though I’m not sure how many realize that milky green color is caused by severe cataracts. At least, cataracts is what I assume to be the reason for the color of her eyes. However, people with cataracts still have some remaining sense of light and shadow perception.

Only 9% of the blind community is completely blind, seeing absolutely nothing. The rest have some remaining vision, even if that’s only light and shadow perception or the perception of vague movement.

The percentage of people born completely blind is even smaller.

Toph says that she’s never been able to see, which would lead me to guess that the initial cause of her blindness was a defect with the visual processing part of her brain. I also theorize that the cataracts developed slowly over her very formative years and that she likely wasn’t born with them. For that reason, I think it would have taken a few weeks or months for her parents to realize there was something wrong with her eyes.

Here is a post about the developmental years of blind children and how their life would differ from both sighted children and from someone who went blind as an adult.

What is it like to see nothing?

It’s a concept that sighted people struggle with and I completely understand. I myself didn’t understand the concept of “nothing” until someone explained it as this:

“Imagine trying to see out the back of your head.”

Which, genuinely, imagine that. Try that. Because here’s what I found. There’s no part of my body that can help perceive that. I don’t have eyes there, nor do I have a part of my brain that can process that. Because of this, there is no sense of light or dark, no shape or shadow or movement or depth that I can perceive. There is nothing.

And honestly, it gives me a headache trying to think too much about it.

Toph doesn’t see black, doesn’t have a mental image of it. When people talk about light and dark, Toph has nothing to base the concept on. The closest relation she has to that is silence versus sound, or her earth sense when she’s in the air on Appa versus when she’s on solid ground. But it’s not the same.

I would like to examine the way the show tried to describe Toph’s earth sense, that black void with ripples of white stretching from her feet and outwards. Television is a visual medium so of course their explanation of Toph’s earth sense would be visual, but that’s not what it’s actually like in her head. More accurately, it’s like touching the back of your head to something and feeling what’s solid behind it and what has more give. A wall versus a pillow for example. Slamming your hand on a flimsy table and feeling it rattle under your palm. And for someone so adept at using that sense, she feels not just the table surface under her palm, but the individual rattles down the four legs, how uneven those rattles are because the legs are carved decoratively instead of solid planks, and how the foot of each leg bumps against the ground, and how the floor vibrates in response to the impact, which she feels in both her feet and hand. 

About Toph’s Relationship with Her Parents

It’s not something I see touched on much. There’s been a lot of focus on Zuko and Azula’s relationship with their parents and the abuse, as well as exploration of Sokka and Katara’s trauma with losing their mother, and Sokka looking up to his warrior father while Katara struggles with her abandonment issues.

Please don’t take this as a critique, because there are a few valid reasons for this and I would like to give you some insight on how to explore Toph’s relationship with her parents.

For starters, the show had a lot more reason to focus on Zuko and Azula’s parents, with Fire Lord Ozai being the primary villain and Zuko’s greatest abuser, and Azula’s dependent worship of her father in response to Ursa’s neglect and favoritism of Zuko, which was likely Ursa’s response to Ozai’s favoritism of Azula. Their parents are huge driving motivators for why Zuko and Azula make the decisions and mistakes they do, why they are at one point in the show the villains themselves. (And why I think Azula should get a redemption arc and some healing.)

Katara’s trauma of losing her mother and blaming herself is a huge factor in both her response to the war, her relationship with her bending, and her motherly nature with her friends. The show has to explore that. Just as it has to explore Sokka’s problems with toxic masculinity in response to being the man of his village, and his desire to be a great warrior and leader like the father he idolizes. 

The show needs to explore that to make the plot move forward, and it benefits from these being two sibling sets with different responses to their upbringing and different sibling dynamics, setting them up as foils for each other.

The show also wouldn’t benefit by giving Lao and Poppy Beifong more screen time. Their established character were two nobles who kept as far out of the war as possible and prospered monetarily for it. Poppy was polite and demure and Lao liked to lead the conversation. Unless the gAang decided to return to Toph’s home, those characters had no reason to pop up anywhere in the show. And if they did, they would be a hinder to Toph and her part in the plot as both Aang’s earth bending teacher and as the greatest earth bender in the world, tossing Fire Nation soldiers eight ways to Sunday. 

So truly, I understand that there’s not a whole lot of canon material (comparatively) to go off of when developing this, but I will offer some insight on what is there in canon.

Toph’s relationship with her parents is explored in that it maps out why Toph doesn’t want to be mothered by Katara, why she wants to prove how independent she is, but there’s very little on screen interaction between Toph and her parents.

Toph deeply loves her parents. I think that plays into why she doesn’t want Katara mothering her, because she has a wonderful mother at home who she loves and wants to better understand her, but she had no friends growing up and no older sister, which are the roles she needs and wants Katara to fill. If Toph wanted a mother figure, she would have latched onto Katara. Look at how Zuko never sought out another mother figure but did find a father figure in Iroh as he began to heal from his childhood trauma and separate his self image from his father’s acceptance.

Toph is in a complicated situation, she loves her parents but the way they’re raising her is hurting her in the long run. But Toph can see that their actions are because of their immense love for her. She can see how they would do anything for her. While she never had any examples of how other noble children were treated by their parents, who might have been distant or disinterested or always away for their social and work lives, she was remarkably loved by her parents. Her father put careful thought into her tutors and checked in on her progress. Her mother feared for Toph’s emotional state when she was kidnapped (even if she was incorrect about how Toph would respond), showing genuine empathy for her daughter.

I think their over protective nature became the love language Toph best understood them by, and part of her reasoning for not revealing how capable she was, was because she wanted to keep experiencing that love and care for as long as she could. But it’s not a love language she would put up with from anyone else.

I would like to point out Toph’s genuine excitement to see her mom again in the season finale of Book Two, how badly Toph wants her mom to understand and accept her for who she is.

My thoughts on what Toph can’t do: read, swim, see in the sand, fight things mid-air.

For how incredibly powerful the show makes Toph with her earth bending and the O&M she taught herself through it, they do touch on some of her weaknesses when they come up and find a useful way to showcase them.

The Serpent’s Pass was an excellent example of Toph’s vulnerability in water. From her fear of not being able to see on Katara’s ice bridge to not being able to swim and needing Suki to save her, Toph’s weaknesses putting her in danger added to the excitement and “sitting on the edge of your seat” feeling while watching the episode without turning her into someone who was helpless. She was just in a position where her normal defenses were useless.

Just like the earth benders in the metal prison in the ocean, or Katara having little water in the middle of a desert where her friends needed that water to survive more than she needed it to fight, making her vulnerable later in the show when the insect-wasp things attacked. Just like fire benders being weaker at night, or powerless during a solar eclipse, or a sighted person being lost in the dark. Those were just situations in which the tools you were accustomed to relying on could no longer help you or were taken away.

The show was clever in that it didn’t make her inability to read a direct threat to her safety, but rather as a clever plot device for her to be alone when the sand banders attacked and have to choose between fighting them to save Appa, or holding back an entire fricking building by the tiniest spire on its very top from falling into a void leading to the spirit world. It also showed her weakness to not being able to see or fight as well in sand. Which the show later made an effort to show how she’d improved on that problem in Book Three when she was surrounded by nothing but sand at Ember Island.

Like improving her ability to see in the sand, I would like to see a character teach Toph to swim, or at least float, so that she never feels helpless again. If she took the initiative to improve her sand bending so much, I’m sure she would have learn to swim eventually.

And on the note of reading, I’ve seen some speculation on how Toph could learn to read, whether it’s through using ink that has some percentage of earth mixed in, or developing the sensitivity to feel out the different weight, consistency, and texture of ink on paper. 

I would like to bring your attention to Louis Braille, the blind Frenchman who invented Braille while studying at  the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles, the world’s very first school for the blind in Paris France (established 1785). Previously Louis was learning to read through a method in which each letter was pressed into the paper to leave an imprint that someone could feel out with just their fingers.

Louis Braille concluded that raised lettering was impractical because-

1.       It is difficult to read, the letters had to be printed in huge font to be fully felt out and printed on thick paper.

2.       Thick paper means higher quality, more expensive. Larger font means more paper is needed for a single text.

3.       This made it inaccessible due to expense and the sheer volume of a text.

4.       If today’s Braille books are hard to access and giant compared to traditional books, I can’t imagine how inaccessible those raised letter books really were.

The subject of Braille, the start and controversial near downfall to  Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles were discussed in a post about writing a blind character during the Victorian Era.

I’ve heard others complain in the past about fantasy universes in which a sighted person invents a solution to allow the blind to read, when the most effective and longest lived method was invented by a blindman over two hundred years ago and is the standard taught in schools today.

And while I couldn’t easily explain it or how it works because I can neither read Braille nor speak Chinese, I can tell you that Chinese Braille exists and works only slightly differently from the Braille western languages use. So, again, modern AUs especially would benefit from enabling Toph to read Braille and use a computer and phone with screen reader.

But just as easily you could choose not to have her learn to read but rather have sighted people read things aloud to her. Whether it’s in a professional setting as an adult having an assistant who reads and writes for her, or as a cute, fluffy little moment between Toph and another character. Both are just as genuine to the blindness experience.

Blind Jokes

If you ever get around to reading my post about blind jokes, I’d like you to remember that it’s primarily written for people writing original characters and that Toph canonically makes blind jokes, so to take away from that would not be true to her character.

Does Toph’s Earth Sense Negate her Blindness?

It’s a question I’ve seen raised before and discussed by both abled, disabled, and blind people. There are multiple perspectives on it, but my own take on it is that Toph’s earth bending does not negate her blindness, but rather functions very much like the process of learning to use a cane.

She had a tool, a teacher, and she learned to use that tool. Instead of a cane, it was seismic perception and her teacher were blind badger-moles. She spent years learning to earth bend as they do and then continued to take it to new heights as she explored fighting with it on her terms against sighted fighters.

Come to think about it, I would love to see Toph teach another visually impaired or blind earth bender who to see and bend as she does.

Is Toph Good Blindness Representation?

This question was posed to me in the comments of my master post, and my answer was something like this: “Toph is good representation, but she can't be the only type of representation we get. She's the best we had 15 years ago, but there are a million ways to nuance the blindness experiences. Toph's experience being born blind, having very over protective parents, being a small girl in a patriarical and wealth influenced society, having no friends growing up. Those are all great aspects of blindness to show, but there is so much more to explore. As for her blindness and whether or not that's negated, that's also nuanced. She has limits, she's not all-powerful, but she is the best earth bender hands down. More or less, I love Toph, she's a great character, give me like a million more blind characters who are completely different from her.”

I want to see accurate and well-written blind characters become much more common in modern media, and that’s why I started this blog. So if you decide you want to write your own blind character from scratch, feel free to come back and look at some of my other stuff.

End Notes:

I want to thank the anon who sent the original question because it never occurred to me how much the atla fandom would benefit from a post like this. 

You should follow my blog. Along with advice about writing blind characters, I write general writing advice and answer questions about writing, college, plot development, character analysis, and living with blindness. I curate writing advice from fellow writeblrs, write my own image descriptions for writing memes, post about mental health and working/living with ADHD, disabilities outside of blindness, and LGBTQA+ topics. 

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[scarlettriot]

Mina Ashido Headcanons!

@jewel116 requested some headcanons of our Alien Queen and I am here to deliver!

Some of these also could be considered BakuSquad HCs, hope that's alright.

I also went ahead and included some Adult Mina and 18+ Mina Headcanons too. Both are below the cut and clearly stated. Warnings are posted at each header mark.

If anyone has any other requests, lemme know!

Basic Mina Headcanons

Warnings: It's as fluffy as her dang hair! (Swearing)

. Most definitely has ADHD! In class, she is constantly tapping her foot on bouncing her leg as a means of trying her best to keep focused.

. Has a collection of shirts that she has designated for sleep and loungewear because she's burned acid holes in them by accident. Sometimes she'll wear them to concerts and shows if the design is cool enough.

. Loves piggyback rides! Frequently will run and jump on the backs of the guys in the BakuSquad. Even Katsuki himself puts up with it after a while.

. While Katsuki is the 'mom' of the squad, Mina is the one everyone goes to when they need comfort. Denki will curl up in her lap after a long day, Eijiro frequently goes to her when his insecurities creep back in, Hanta shows up late at night and they talk in her room about nothing just because he doesn't want to be alone, and Katsuki, well, he shows up to her room, slams the door and complains for a solid half-hour after reading a particularly heartbreaking scene in a manga while she listens to every word and validates his feelings.

. Mina worries far more than people believe she does. Her bubbly, loud, personality usually masks it but she knows when people are lying to her about what's going on in their heads.

. Sitting properly in a chair physically bothers her. She'd much rather be hanging upside down off it.

. She lowkey likes that the boys get protective over her.

. Mina is the type of person who gets A LOT of random thoughts that pop up in her head and one of the few people who actually will engage with the sheer randomness of the ideas is Shoto. Not only does he engage, he comes up with his own! The two can talk for hours.

. Loves hosting 'spa parties' in the common area of the dorms, everyone is welcome to join.

. When road trips happen, she's making the playlists (technically, she and Kyoka switch off).

. Tries teaching Tenya, Izuku, and Shoto how to flirt. After a very embarrassing first hour, Shoto didn't learn a single thing, Izuku was only good at it when paired with Shoto and Tenya... Tenya had her SHOOK! Man has game and she made sure everyone knew!

. Has weekly meetings with Yuga where they drink tea and spill the tea.

. She is so damn ticklish. Hanta was teasing her one day, she warned him to stop, he received an elbow to the face for not listening.

. Tried to grow her hair out once but it didn't grow down... it grew OUT. Mina thought she rocked it, and she totally did but ended up having it cut back down so poor Tsyu could see in class.

. Wakes up early three days a week to practice her hand-to-hand combat with Eijiro. Mina wants to improve her technique and Eijiro needed to work on his mobility, it benefits them both.

. Just Dance is her favorite game, she dominates.

. Easily forms new interests.

. Won't admit it but she gets jealous super easily.

. Will be the first to attempt to throw hands for a friend! I HC she was picked on as a child for looking so different but it never really phased her too badly, she likes looking different but understands that not everyone thinks like she does. So, if someone were to say something about Mezo's facemask, she's stepping in to defend the guy without hesitation.

. Knows every TikTok dance EVER. If a new one comes out, she's mastered it by end of the day and her account is always up to date.

. (Popular idea but important to reinforce) Mina and Eijiro co-founded a club, Horn Buddies, specifically to make Eri feel more welcome. They take her on trips and group outings. The only horned person who's not allowed to join is Pony because she was rude as heck to Mezo.

. Mina gets extra competitive over board games.

. She can ice skate and roller skate like a champ.

. Mina is resilient, dedicated, and passionate. She has goals and the girl will achieve them.

Pro Hero - Adult Mina Headcanons

Warnings - Mentions of alcohol use and swearing

. Gets several tattoos and piercings.

. Starts a roller derby club with most of the girls from 1A.

. Loves going out to the hottest dance clubs just as much as she enjoys staying in and munching on take-out food with friends.

. The Horn Buddies club she formed with Eijiro has now expanded into regular society and both young heroes couldn't be more proud. Together they've formed a foundation that strives to help those with non-flashy, unconventional, or misunderstood quirks feel welcomed and loved.

. Does her best to shop small whenever she can. Mina wants to help her community in as many different ways as possible.

. Becomes a fashion icon for many small, just starting out, alternative clothing lines. They love her look and the standard she sets.

. Goes to fashion and runway shows with Momo on the regular. While Momo prefers buying right off the rack, Mina goes to thrift stores and buys items that are coming back into style.

. Does her best to stay in touch with her classmates. She really cherished the friendships she made and goes the extra mile to make sure everyone stays connected.

. Has told off Shoto's father. Sent the man an anonymous bag of flaming dog shit as well for making his son so damn stressed. Sorry, not sorry.

. As long as she isn't in the middle of a fight, Mina will always stop to take a photo with a fan or sign an autograph. In or out of costume, she doesn't care.

. In high school, Mina's room was always decked out for the holidays. She goes decoration crazy and it is always done well. But, now that she's an adult with that pro hero money and her own place, she's the best house on the block decorated for each and every holiday! Inside and out! Also throws holiday-themed parties.

. Got absolutely trashed with the BakuSquad one night and taught them all how to twerk. By the end of the lesson, she deemed Katsuki was the best of her students.

. Loves to drink. Is a lightweight. Katsuki and Eijiro have carried her home more times than they can count.

NSFW 18+ Mina HC Below - Minors DNI

Warnings: Drinking, rough sex, mentions of orgies, handcuffs, impact play, and praise kinks. Subtle sexual relations with BakuSquad, Jiro, Todoroki, and Ochaco.

. The Queen of stripteases and lap dances.

. If any of her friends are at a party or some event and they need a fake date, Mina is their go-to person. She's handsy. She's flirty. And has no problem with platonic make-outs.

. Always encourages kissing-themed games at parties. Seven Minutes in Heaven, Spin the Bottle, those sorts of games. Mina also loves to play cupid and has rigged a game or two to get people together.

. Has made out with every member of the BakuSquad at least once as well as Kyoka, Shoto, and Ochaco simply because she was curious.

. Has attempted to start an orgy with the BakuSquad before when intoxicated. Still mentions it in passing just in case they change their minds.

. Has gone further with Katsuki and Eijiro though. Maybe both at the same time once or twice or several times...

. Wonderfully filthy dirty talk. Can even make Katsuki blush.

. (A personal favorite of mine that was in a previous post) When they were first years, Eijiro asked innocently enough, to touch her horns. He was gentle but that didn't matter. Our poor girl was so damn flustered! Her face turned red bright, she felt hot, and she had to go take a very cold shower!

. Ei felt terrible about it. It took them both maturing for her to explain exactly why she reacted that way... and then asked him to do it again.

. Is likely to send NSFW texts and photos while people are indeed at work. She is a Pro Hero though so only certain people are allowed to have those photos. A scandal is the last thing she wants.

. Very good at communication and is not afraid to speak her mind about what she wants and needs out of a relationship and her sex life.

. Loud, very loud, very needy.

. Fuzzy handcuffs in every color she can think of and adores impact play.

. Let her know she's doing a good job, Mina responds well to praise.

. Big cuddler after sex. Wants to snuggle into you and more than likely take a nap.

[redpandaramblings]

A Matter of Admiration Alpha Gang Orca x Omega f!Reader

Hello Hello! Here is my very VERY late submission for the SFW portion of Spudcorner's Valentine Blood and Chocolate Collab. This was meant to be a two page drabble. 13 pages later it's a bit more than that. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy!

Sequel/Epilogue Here

Content Warnings- Omegaverse, SFW, Insecurities, Misunderstandings, Pining, Fluff, Lots of food mentioned, Kugo being very down on himself, very minor mention of blood and stitches needed.

“Really? Again?”

The large alpha seemed to shrink under your judgemental glare.

“I am sorry, Y/N. The fight got intense and it slipped off. Someone must have stepped on it.”

You sighed heavily, your gaze turning to the workbench where the shattered remains of your creation sat. This was your seventh attempt at outfitting Gang Orca with a communicator headset. It was dangerous for him to keep fishing for a handheld during the heat of battle. Unfortunately, his lack of outer ear made keeping a headset on him difficult. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile.

“Not your fault, Sakamata. We knew this was going to be tricky. Though at this rate I’m tempted to just glue a headset on you and call it a day.”

Kugo snorted, his posture relaxing. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I hate to see your hard work go to waste.”

“It’s not a waste if I learn something from it. This one lasted a couple weeks of normal patrol work, so that’s an improvement. We just need to figure out what was different about this fight. So, sit. Talk.”

Kugo shook his head with an amused huff. He admitted he had been slightly dubious when you had first come to his agency. He’d encountered many hero support workers claiming to specialize in mutation quirks that seemed to be looking for lab rats for their creations. However, you always listened to what he said, and made suggestions that would actually make his job easier. You made sure your support items not only were functional, but comfortable at well. If the few years you had worked for him, he was pleased to say you had become good friends.

“I can’t right now, Y/N. I need to get cleaned up, then complete my report before I forget the details. I’ll come back first thing tomorrow.” You frowned, tapping your foot. Kugo fought to keep a neutral expression. You’d never forgive him if you knew how much he enjoyed your expressions when you were annoyed.

“Alright. Fine. First thing tomorrow. But make sure you get some rest tonight, you’ve been working too hard lately!”

Sakamata waved a hand in answer as he walked out the workshop door. He’d try to follow your request, but a hero’s work is never done.

~~~~~

Gang Orca shuffled through the door to his agency with an aura of gloom about him. In the past five days, he had broken five more communicators, gotten into several serious fights, and had allowed a villain to escape. And that was just his work life. Some of his friends had set him up for a speed dating session. He didn’t blame them for trying, but it ended exactly how he knew it would. Most of the omegas who had been present were scared of him, and those that weren’t were clearly only interested in his pro hero paycheck. Kugo trudged toward his office, his thoughts gloomy. A man with a quirk like his would never have a normal courtship. It hurt sometimes. How nice it would be to come home to a sweet smelling omega. What wouldn’t he give to home filled with pups, and laughter and love? He sighed softly as he swung his door open. Such a life was not meant for him, so no point in even dreaming. On autopilot, he hung his coat on the coat rack, and turned to set his briefcase on his desk. However, the desk was already occupied. Kugo tilted his head as he stared at the object resting on his desk. It appeared to be a large bento box, wrapped in a rather feminine handkerchief, patterned with some sort of flowers. Kugo set his briefcase down on a chair before coming closer to investigate. Gingerly, he untied the knot, setting the cloth aside as he looked at the contents curiously.

First and most obviously, was the strawberry shaped sticky note attached to the top. “You looked like you had been having a rough week. I hope this can make it better!” The writing was… painstakingly cute. The “i”s were dotted with little hearts. Each letter having just a little bit of flourish, while still being legible.

Kugo hummed quietly to himself. Clearly this had been left on his desk by mistake. A bit awkward, considering his name was on the door, but there was no other explanation. He drummed his fingers on the desk as he considered his options. He could take a guess at who the bento was for. There were several popular alpha heroes working for him that got their share of gifts from admirers. The soft omegan scent coming from the handkerchief that had wrapped the bento was a solid clue the gift was likely meant for one of them. But really, there was no way to tell for sure who it was supposed to end up with, and he really didn’t want the hard work to go to waste. Yes. Best thing would be to eat the bento, and place the box in the break room with a note inside the box apologizing.

His course of action decided, Kugo opened the bento, quietly sucking a breath as he saw what was inside. There were sausages cut to look like little octopi. A large slab of teriyaki salmon. Rice balls shaped like teddy bear heads, complete with little seaweed faces. He tried to tamp down his delight at seeing over half of the bento was dedicated to tamagoyaki. While he lived up to his stereotype of loving fish, the egg dish was a secret favorite of his; something his mother had made for him whenever he had a bad day when he was growing up. The second layer of the bento had even more. Rice, vegetables, and surprisingly a small but adorable piece of cake. Kugo put the bento back together with a small smile on his face. Perhaps it wasn’t meant for him, but it had been a long time since he had been able to enjoy something like this- cute and homemade, clearly filled with a great deal of care. He couldn’t quite feel guilty as he looked forward to lunch. He could pretend, just this once, that a sweet smelling omega had put so much care into something for him.

~~~~~~

Later that day, when most of the day team had left, Kugo made his way to the common break room. He carefully cleaned out the bento box in the sink, setting it to the side to dry. He folded the handkerchief it had came in, and placed it next to the box before sighing. He was in the process of scribbling a brief apology note when he heard a cough. He glanced up to see y/n leaning against the doorway.

“You okay, chief? Thought your shift ended an hour ago.”

Kugo nodded as he placed his note on top of the handkerchief. “Yes, just had a few things I needed to wrap up. What about you? I know you were supposed to be done several hours ago now.”

You fidgeted, embarrassed, shrugging your shoulders as you glanced away. “Had an idea for how to improve a few items and, well, you know how I get when I have a project. But what have you got there? You never struck me as the homemade lunch type.”

It was Kugo’s turn to look uncomfortable as he shuffled from foot to foot. “It was left on my desk this morning by mistake. I had no way of knowing who it was actually meant for, and I didn’t want it going to waste, so I ate it.”

You frowned as you walked into the room, opening cupboards and starting to retrieve things to make tea. You held a mug up toward Kugo in a silent question, grabbing a second one when he nodded. You were quiet for a few moments, going through the motions. After a while you asked “How are you so sure it wasn’t for you?”

Kugo snorted, leaning back against the counter and gesturing at himself. “Omegas aren’t exactly lined up around the block. I don’t place high on the ‘heroes that look most like villains’ list every year for no reason. Some unfortunate omega got confused about whose office was whose. It’s a shame I couldn’t give it to whoever it was meant for, it was a beautifully crafted bento.” Kugo doesn’t mention the note. Kugo especially doesn’t mention the note had found its way into his desk drawer to save as a memory of how nice it had been to receive the bento, even if it was an accident.

You laughed, passing him a steaming cup of tea, made just how he liked. “Sakamata, don’t talk down about yourself like that. You’re big, strong, and prime alpha material. You’re one of the top heroes! And even more importantly, you’re a gentle kind man that any omega would be lucky to have. I’d bet good money that that bento absolutely was made just for you.”

“A nice thought, but I doubt it. You’ll see. In a few days I bet a bento will make its way to who it was meant for.”

~~~~~~

Kugo stood stock still in the doorway to his office. Sitting on his desk was another cloth wrapped package. Once was a mistake, clearly. But two days in a row? Why on Earth was there another bento on his desk? He approached the desk and slide the bento to him. He untied the scented fabric with care. A cat shaped note greeted him.

“I’m sorry if it wasn’t clear before, Sakamata. I wanted to make this for you because I admire you so much. I’m not always great at saying my feelings, so I hope my cooking says enough.”

This was… for him. The bentos… were for him? He sat in his chair, leaning his head against his hands as he regarded the innocent looking lunch. If it wasn’t a mistake, then what could it be? Probably a fortune hunting omega trying to get in his good graces, if he went off his past experience. Though usually those types of omegas were more likely to offer favors of a different sort. Kugo winced as another thought occurred to him. There was a good chance this omega pitied him. Ugly, intimidating, unmatable. Someone had seen him and decided he needed looking after because clearly he’d never get someone on his own. Yes. That had to be it. He should leave the bento in the break room and end this farce as soon as possible.

His mind made up, Kugo picked up the bundle to do exactly that. The subtle smell of the contents hit his sensitive nose, causing him to salivate. Tempura? Definitely egg. Well, it would be a shame to not even look inside to make sure.

Clearly just as much care had gone into this one as the last one. The rice balls were shaped like little cat heads, to match the note. An assortment of tempura seemed to be the main dish, cute cat shaped food picks stuck in some of them. There were even paw print shaped gummy candies for the dessert. Every inch of the lunch was absolutely adorable. And it was all done for him. There was no way Kugo could let it go to waste. It hurt to know it was a gift given out of pity, but maybe, just for a while, he could pretend there was someone out there who loved him like this. The omega would grow tired of this eventually. Until then, he’d let himself enjoy this.

~~~~~

It was surprising how easily this had become routine. Every day when Kugo walked into his office, there was a new bento waiting for him. And every day he’d unwrap the bento, indulging a brief moment in the cutely patterned handkerchiefs. Every bento was unique and cute. They seemed to show a good understanding of his tastes and preferences. It was a pleasant break on the quiet days and a welcome comfort on the rough days. Each day there was a sweet written note that Kugo gently stored in his desk drawer. It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

~~~~~~~

Kugo hated attending charity events. It wasn’t the charities, he always supported good causes. It wasn’t the dressing up, or the fancy atmosphere. It was the people. While a few of his friends were around somewhere, there were many many others who didn’t know him well. Others who were intimidated by his appearance. Others who apparently had no idea just how sharp his hearing was.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Gang Orca is here.”

“I know! Well, I suppose he is a hero. Allegedly, anyway.”

“Did he come with anyone?”

“Of course not. I mean ew. Look at him. Can you imagine cosying up to that at the end of the day?”

“I know! And those teeth! If he tried to bond someone, he’d take their head clean off!”

“As if anyone would want to bond with that.”

“I don’t know. He’s in the top ten pretty often. He has to be loaded, right?”

“Would have to be a lot for me to even consider it.”

“It could be all the money and I still wouldn’t!”

“Oh don’t say that! Poor bastard can’t help he’s unmatable.”

Kugo walked away from the refreshment table as he tried to tune out the unkind comments and mocking laughter. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. He knew full well what he looked like. He had had enough failed courting attempts to know exactly what omegas thought of him. But it still stung. Stung more than usual, actually. The daily bentos with their scented cloths and cute little notes had almost made him forget. The only omegas who were interested either pitied him, or wanted his money. He could never forget that.

~~~~~

What he could forget, apparently, was that the number two pro hero was scheduled to be at his office the morning after the charity gala. Kugo stifled a sigh when he saw the red winged hero waiting outside his agency’s door. Of course he’d have to deal with this on a day when he wasn’t in the best of moods. “Orca! My man, good to see you again!”

Kugo nodded as he held the door open. “Hawks.”

“Didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the party last night. You know how it is. Go to one of those things when you're single, and you get swarmed.”

Kugo gave a non committal grunt. No, he didn’t know. He just wanted this morning to be over with. He perked up slightly as he saw you hurrying down the hallway toward them. Hawks gave a low whistle. “Who's the babe?” Kugo half growled. “That is Miss Y/N. The support item engineer you allegedly came here to see. You will be respectful and refrain from flirting with my staff.”

Keigo held up his hands and laughed. “Hey now big guy, don’t mean any offense. Just saying you’re lucky to get to work with that every day.”

Kugo jerked his head in an abbreviated nod. You slowed down your quick walk as you got closer, not wanting to interrupt the heroes’s conversation. Kugo waved you closer. You smiled at him so brightly as you joined the group. Yes. He was lucky to work with a friend such as you. Kugo’s nerves started to cool a bit as he introduced you and the three of you began to make your way to his office. Hawk’s casual questions were more inquisitive than flirty, and Kugo knew from long experience just how much you enjoyed being able to talk in depth about your work. He was smiling by the time he opened the door to his office, ushering the two or you in. Hawk’s next words hit him like a bucket of cold water to the face.

“Dang! Either you got one hell of a cafeteria service at this agency, or Gang Orca has himself quite an admirer. Delivered right to your desk, pretty bold, man! That’s exactly why I keep my door locked. There’s only so much lunch a man can eat, am I right?”

The bento. He had forgotten about the stupid bento. There it sat, as always. The handkerchief was especially cute today, some sort of pattern with teddy bears hugging and kissing. Any other day, the sight would have calmed him. Any other day he would have sat down and quickly poked through to see what surprises lay inside that day, would have read the note meant just for him with a smile.

But today was different. Others were in his office. The number two hero, handsome and popular. His support engineer, pretty enough to probably have plenty of suitors of her own. And then there was him. Large. Scary. Consistently told he looks like a villain. Has never had a relationship that wasn’t pitying or profiteering. Kugo remembered the whispered remarks from the party. Usually he’d be able to brush off Hawks’s commentary. But today…

Kugo snarled, his scent agitated as he swept his arm across the desk, knocking the bento roughly into the trash. “They are a nuisance that need to cease! I’m so tired of some desperate piting omega shoving their unwanted, unneeded efforts at me! Enough is enough!” At the end his voice was raised to a shout. He was dimly aware of his nails digging deeply into his palms. Kugo leaned on the desk, breathing deeply as he tried to calm himself. He could hear the others shuffling behind him awkwardly.

“Come on,” You murmured and lightly tugged on Keigo’s sleeve. “How about I show you my lab and take some measurements before we get started.”

“Yeah. Um. Yeah.” Keigo allowed you to lead him away. You softly closed the door behind you. Kugo remained, hunched and breathing raggedly. It took him several minutes to calm down. It took him a few minutes beyond that to gather the nerve to make the trek down to the support lab. He slipped into the room as inconspicously as a man with his fram could manage. You were taking measurements off of Keigo and muttering to yourself as you tapped out notes on your tablet. Keigo noticed Kugo’s entrance and greeted him cautiously. “You good?” Kugo nodded. “I… apologize. It’s been a rather trying week, but I should have composed myself better.”

Keigo waved him off. “No worries, man, no worries. Y/n was just telling me she thinks that she’ll be able to rig up something for me that would help slow my fall in situations where my wings get damaged.”

You hummed an affirmative, taking a few more measurements before you started describing your process. Kugo couldn’t help but notice you didn’t look his way. You looked at the ground, at your tablet, at Keigo, but you were clearly avoiding Kugo’s gaze. He mentally winced as he settled onto an out of the way stool. It was rare for him to have that kind of emotional outburst. It probably could be heard even from outside his office. He’d make sure to apologize to you better when he got the chance. But for now, it was looking like it would be a long, awkward day. Goodie.

~~~~~

Kugo growled under his breath the next morning when he saw the cloth wrapped bundle sitting on his desk. Yesterday’s embarrassment was still fresh in his mind as he stalked forward. His thick fingers quickly untied the surprisingly unpatterned piece of fabric. There, under the cloth, on top of the box, was a note as there always was. Kugo’s anger was cooled by confusion when he saw it, however. The paper was a plain yellow post-it note. Instead of the painstakingly cute handwriting with the heart dotted “i’s, there was a clearly hasty scrawl.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to annoy you. This will be the last one.”

Kugo frowned, shifting in his seat. Clearly the bento maker had heard about his outburst from yesterday. That was… unfortunate. But perhaps for the best, since he had no way of directly telling them to cease their nonsense. Unconsciously, his hand balled up the handkerchief and as he had been doing for a while, he scented it.

The cloth had a slight smell of salt to it. Tears, Kugo realized uncomfortably. The smell of tears slightly diluted the normal soothing smell of whoever had carefully packaged these bentos. He had little appetite as he looked over what was there. Tempura. Salmon. Vegetables. A large portion of tamagoyaki. But the part that caused an uncomfortable weight to settle in his chest was the little red box, filled with slightly clumsy, clearly homemade chocolates. Kugo closed his eyes, sighing as he set the box to the side to wait for lunch. This was good. This was what he wanted, to be left alone instead of some kind hearted omega taking pity on him. He had lived a long time without homemade bentos and little notes. He certainly didn’t want the small offering of chocolates. When lunchtime came, he certainly didn’t linger over the food longer than usual, savoring each bite. He tried to tell himself that this was for the best. That this was what he wanted. He refused to think about why he tucked the handkerchief and the box of chocolates into his desk drawer instead of leaving them in the break room as usual.

The next day as Kugo opened his office door, he looked toward his desk out of habit; searching for the lunch that had been left. His chest gave an uncomfortable lurch when he found the desk was bare. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. This was fine. This was what he wanted. The sooner he forgot about all this nonsense, the sooner things would return to normal. He settled into his chair and began sifting through the paperwork he had to deal with. No better way to take his mind off his troubling thoughts and distract the whine of his inner alpha. He was certain. Things would be back to normal soon.

Two weeks later, Kugo listlessly picked at the limp lettuce of the poor excuse of a salad that he had picked up at a convenience store. He sighed, putting the lid back on the barely touched meal resolving to throw it away when he next passed a garbage can. He didn’t like to admit it, but he missed the carefully planned meals. Wondering what cute surprise was going to be next. It was nice that someone thought he might enjoy seeing animal shaped onigiri and cheesecake flavored kit kats. His alpha whimpered when he thought about the contented omega scent that gently perfumed every handkerchief, except the last. But just as the note had said, he had received nothing since that last bento. His thoughts remained gloomy as he entered the agency, quickly making his way into his office, locking the door behind him. He knew better than to hope as he looked towards his desk. Bare, once again. Sighing heavily, he slumped into his chair. He gently pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk. Carefully nestled into it was the cleaned, empty bento box from the last meal, the small box of dwindling homemade chocolates, and that last precious handkerchief.

Kugo carefully removed the handkerchief. He brought the cloth to his nose, inhaling deeply. Stabbing pain shot through him as he realized the scent was barely there anymore. The faint scent of tears almost completely overpowering the last lingering trace of distressed omega. His hands clutched the fabric tightly, squeezing until he realized the stress he was putting on the fabric. He quickly placed it on the desk and tried in vain to smooth out the wrinkles. After a minute of fussing, he gently refolded it and placed it back in the drawer. Kugo stared at the contents, unblinking before slowly sliding the drawer closed. It was almost gone. Everything was almost gone. And he didn’t know how to get it back.

With a low growl, Kugo pushed himself up. Today was a rare day where he hoped for trouble on his patrol. A fight would certainly take his mind off things, and just maybe calm the whining alpha that echoed throughout his entire being.

~~~~

He really needed to be careful what he wished for. Kugo winced as he limped toward the support lab. He had gotten a fight alright. He had gotten three fights, a twisted ankle, and a once again smashed communication headset. It wasn’t his fault that he had gotten thrown backwards into a rather solid concrete wall. Y/N was going to kill him.

Kugo pushed the lab door open, stepping inside. His forehead creased in worry. The lab felt off. Wrong in a way he couldn’t immediately place a finger finger on. Well, he’d have to think about it later, he decided as he made his way to where you were sitting. You were at your workbench, tapping your pen on the table and staring at nothing when he settled down on the stool next to you. You glanced over as Kugo sat down, did a double take and let out a small noise of surprise.

“Sakamata! What happened to you?”

The large man shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “The usual. Villain didn’t behave exactly how I thought, and I paid for not being vigilant enough. Nothing too bad. Twisted ankle and roughed up a little. Unfortunately though…”

Sheepishly as a scolded schoolboy, Kugo pulled the shattered remains of his latest communicator out of his pocket and placed them on the workbench.

“Kugo!”

He couldn’t help but smile. He loved the times when you got worked up enough to call him by his first name. He watched as you gingerly sifted through the sad shattered remains.

“What did you do, hit it with a rock?!”

“Concrete wall, actually.”

You stilled before turning to look at Kugo, sharp and suspicious. “And I assume you were wearing it at the time?”

Kugo had the decency to look embarrassed as he nodded. Suddenly he was being fussed over, gentle hands touching his face and turning his head this way and that. An exclamation and curse left you when you found a large, sluggishly bleeding gash on the back of Kugo’s head.

“You! You Alpha!” You huffed as you started digging through the pockets of your lab coat. Kugo got a brief glimpse of colored fabric before the handkerchief was softly dabbing at his wound. Kugo hissed, only half listening as the scolding continued about how knot headed alphas needed to learn to go to the medical ward first before worrying about stupid replacable tech. He was brought back to the present when a hand, so much smaller than his own, grabbed his hand. You easily maneuvered him so that Kugo was now firmly holding the handkerchief over the cut. You hummed, satisfied for now.

“Now Sakamata, please hold that there until you can get medical to look at it. Doubt a hard headed man like you has a concussion, but might need stitches. I’m not exactly an expert. Don’t worry about the headset. I should be able to get a new one to you before my replacement takes over. And if not, I’ll be leaving some blueprints behind anyway.”

What?

“Replacement?”

You stilled, looking away from him. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I just… I never found the right time to tell you.” You fidgeted, rubbing your thumb over your knuckles. “I’m going to be going to America soon. I’ve gotten a good offer to work with a few heroes over there that need someone specialized in mutation supports. It would do a lot to boost my career…”

Kugo reached out, grabbing your hand, and stopping your nervous motions. He tried to find words in his stalling brain. “This is really sudden, Y/N.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You wouldn’t meet his gaze.

He gently shook his head, giving your hand a squeeze. “Not scolding you. Just, is everything alright? Is something going on?”

You pulled away, digging your hands into your hair with a sigh. “You know me too well.”

Kugo gave half a smile. “I would hope so. I like to think we’re friends. Is there anything I can do? Are you in trouble in some way?”

You shook your head. “No. No, nothing like that. It’s kind of embarrassing. Just… A courtship that really didn’t turn out well. And I just… I could really use some time away to get my head back on straight. Eagle Pride’s office has mentioned wanting me to go over and collaborate with them for a while, and what better time than now?” Your laugh sounded bitter.

Kugo sat silent and stunned. He hadn’t known you were courting. Being courted? Honestly, he wasn’t even sure of your dynamic. If you weren’t beta, then you certainly hid your scent well. He cleared his throat before speaking hesitantly.

“I certainly won’t stop you if you truly wish to go. It is an excellent opportunity. Might be a step in having your own support company if you wish. And if not, you’re always welcome here, Y/n. You must know that.”

You give a small smile, finally looking him in the eye. His chest tightened when he saw tears there. “I know, Kugo. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. You’re a good friend for putting up with me.”

“There’s no putting up with. I enjoy your company, always.” Kugo reached out slowly, but you turned away and wiped your eyes with your sleeve. He frowned, placing his hand back in his lap. “And you sure you’re alright, Y/N? No one is threatening you, are they? Someone unsafe taken an interest in you?”

You snorted, “Nothing like that. And people think I’m the dramatic one. No. I just got rejected is all. I miscalculated. Thought they were interested, but they made it very clear they aren’t.”

“Then they’re an idiot.” The words escaped Kugo before he even realized what he was going to say. But it was true, he was sure. You were beautiful, kind, smart. Anyone would be beyond lucky to hold your interest. On the rare days he allowed himself to dream, he often thought he’d love to have someone like you as a mate. Someone who knew him well and cared for him as much as he cared for them. He felt pains in his chest and his eyes widened as realization hit him in the face like a wet mackerel. Oh. He was jealous. He was jealous of whoever it was that y/n had tried to court. And he was angry. Furious that some fool had rejected her. Hurt her. But he was glad she was still here. Yet she was going to leave. Going to leave him here alone. His thoughts swirled and tumbled, and he swayed slightly in his seat. And hand on his shoulder stilled him and he looked up into your concerned eyes.

“Hey, you’re not looking too good. You really should get to medical. Do you need me to help you?”

“No. No. I can make it down a few hallways, thank you though.”

Kugo stood, and tried to give back the cloth he had been pressing to his head. You pushed it back, gently scolding him. “I said leave it there until someone can look at it. If you insist on returning a silly old rag, you can wash it and give it back later.”

Kugo nodded and mumbled out a goodbye. He had a lot to think about as he slowly made his way to medical. So. He liked you. The more he thought about it, the clearer it seemed to him. He’d liked you for a while. Things were always easy with you. But now, you’re leaving. He couldn’t stop you, and wouldn’t even if he could. You clearly felt like you needed to go.

He was still ruminating on his thoughts as the doctor ushered him to a bed. He was poked and prodded. Kugo managed to mumble out what must have been coherent answers. In the end, he did end up needing a few stitches. And just like that, he found himself fixed up and back in his office. He snorted a laugh at the absurdity. How can a day like this somehow manage to be just another day? Kugo sat in his chair and twisted the cloth in his hands absently. He brought it to his nose and sniffed out of habit. Oh course, the scent of his own blood was the most dominant. But underneath that was the usual calming scent of omega. His shoulders relaxed as the tension ran out of him. He pulled that cloth away, idly looking at the pattern. It was cute. Floral. Reminded him of the cloth that the first bento had been…

Wait.

Wait.

He hastily brought the handkerchief to his nose again. There was no mistaking it. He knew that smell. He had missed that smell for weeks. It was faint. But it absolutely was there. Omega, soft and sweet. Not any omega. His omega. His bento maker. His y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n who had seen him toss her courting gift in the trash, who thought he had completely rejected her, and who was moving to America.

Kugo was on his feet in an instant. He’d never made the trip to the support lab that quickly before. You jumped when the door flew open, hitting so harshly that the doorknob dented the wall.

“Sakamata! What?”

He dropped to his knees before you, arms wrapped tight around your waist and his head pressing against your stomach.

“Kugo?” You asked softly, hesitantly stroking along his fin. “Kugo, what’s wrong?”

“You’re the best thing life has ever given me. Please don’t leave. Please.”

You made a soft, wounded sound. You kneeled slowly, and took his face in your hands. Kugo leaned into your touch like a man who had been starved of affection his whole life. You stroked your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Kugo, I’m going to need you to speak plainly, so I’m sure I don’t misunderstand. What’s going on?”

His large hands came up, taking both your hands in his.

“I’m an idiot.”

You snorted and tilted your head, confused. He met your gaze as he continued.

“I’m an idiot and I love you.”

You inhaled sharply, looking at him in disbelief. He pulled the crumpled, bloodstained handkerchief from his pocket.

“I’m an idiot because I love you and yet I never even noticed that you loved me too. You showed me every day. You knew I like eggs just as much as fish. You cared enough to make them cute. You gave me extra sweets on days when I was working a double shift. I loved every bento you made me. I have every note saved. And I might be an idiot, but I’d be an even bigger idiot if I let you go without saying something. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I love you and please don’t go.”

“Kugo.” You smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I already promised I’d go.”

Kugo inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes lowering to the floor.

“But,” you used your hands to lift his chin. His gaze snapped back to yours. “It’s just for six months. Six months, and then I’ll be right back here. With you.”

“With me?”

“Mmhmm.” You gave his nose a quick peck. “Always. You’re the best man I know. I don’t think there’s anyone else in the world for me.”

Kugo groaned and pulled you close, burying his face in your neck. From here, although it was very faint, he could smell your soothing scent. “You can’t say things like that and then tell me I can’t have you here for six months!”

You chuckled as you hugged him close. “Well, we have two weeks before I leave. We have a little time. And once I’m back? We’ll have all the time in the world.”

“Even that won’t be enough time to spend with you.”

“Dork.”

He hummed his agreement. “But it’s true. Eternity would be enough time to spend with you.” Before you could protest, he pulled you in for a gentle, but determined kiss.