#yes they’re both wearing suspenders

[yeagerfate]

YELLOW MORNINGS

Summary: Your parents make you ride on the bus on the first day at your new highschool. You soon realize that this bus is full of both kids you’re scared of and want to be friends with. Who’s on it, and what are they like? + Headcanons on what they’re like in school.

Warnings: None. This is fluff and slight crack! Also, reader is a minor in this and Miguel’s is platonic since he’s a grown ass adult and reader’s 15. (Every other character in this is assumed to be either 15 or 16.) Additionally, the sketchbook thing mentioned in Miles’ is a true story. That actually happened at my school LMFAO

Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Miles Morales (Earth-1610), Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar, and Gabriela O’Hara gets her own little feature in Miguel’s.

Notes: I’m a bit nervous for how this’ll go, but I’m excited for its reception, since I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone write this before. Anyways, thank you guys so much for all the love on my posts. From the bottom of my heart it means so so much to me. I have always loved writing, but it’s a hobby I’m really shy about. Your support really helps me come out of my shell more, which is greatly appreciated. You all are awesome and I love being in this fandom so much. It is so so much fun!

MIGUEL O’HARA

is the angry bus driver that beeps at you four times despite you walking towards the bus in his direct line of sight. He says “good morning” to you in a gruff, tired voice and tells you to just sit down and not cause trouble. As you walk in the aisle of the bus, you can see his daughter in the front seat right behind his, wearing the school uniform for the private elementary school down the street from your high school. She’s sipping on apple juice while holding a bag of chocolate chip mini muffins, staring out the window blankly. When he drops you off at the high school, he tells you to stay out of trouble. The questioning look you give him makes him sigh exasperatedly before telling you to have a good day. Maybe he isn’t so bad?

MILES MORALES

Is staring at the black sketchbook in his hands thoughtfully before he makes eye contact with you. He smiles politely and waves at you, but doesn’t say anything else. When you sit with him, he places the sketchbook on his lap and asks your name. He seems grateful for your presence and tells you it’s been ages since someone new has been assigned to this particular bus. Suddenly, he asks you for your schedule, and is elated when he sees you have biology class together. Though, he lets out a pitiful sigh when he sees who you have for Algebra II. “Good luck with her,” Miles says. “She took away my sketchbook last year because she thought it was a phone.” Miles is always asking you to go to his basketball games on the weekends. He’ll even give you his jersey to wear to cheer him on. Also, if you ever need help on homework, he’s your guy. Especially if it’s math related.

HOBIE BROWN

Has his expensive looking Sony headphones on, and his foot is bouncing to the beat of the song he’s listening to. He nods at you, and waves you over once he sees that all the other seats are taken. You are taken aback by his eccentric fashion style. He asks if you’re new. When you say yes, he tells you which teachers to specifically avoid. The next day, he brings in his earbuds so you both can listen to his music. Hobie is always snacking on the bus, and makes sure to bring you some food too, even if you already have some. Gets yelled at by Miguel for not sitting in his seat (He’s just tall. He does sit.) Even though he’s pretty much always a respectful student, he repeatedly arrives on the bus with detention slips for shadow boxing. Also got suspended for a week for piercing people’s noses in the bathrooms during third period. Oh well!

GWEN STACY

Is quietly scrolling on her phone before she makes eye contact with you. She’s the only other girl in the back of the bus, so you decide to sit with her. Gwen seems shy, so you are the one to make conversation. You quickly find out that she’s a catcher on the softball team and is in a band with Hobie, the kid in the seat next to yours. Gwen informs you of all of the school’s drama from the year before, including the time she got an ISS for giving girls ibuprofen for their period cramps. Regardless of this, she tells you, “I still have it in my bag. If you need it, just ask.” She also sends you the quizlets she makes for the Spanish class you have together. Frequently, Gwen gives you gum, but it is a silent exchange as to prevent the other students from asking for it as well. She is a very generous person.

PAVITR PRABHAKAR

Is fiddling with his bright school bag before he insists that you sit with him. He is a talker, and tells you all about himself. He urges you to join theatre for the winter musical, which is apparently “The best school event of the year!”. Pavitr is very involved with the school, and is the president of the theatre club, the secretary of the choir club, and is starting a culture club this year. He tells you to sit with him at lunch kindly. Though, his pleasant rant is interrupted when he tells you to avoid the lunch lady whose name is Linda. His reasoning is that, “She argued with me over chai tea.” which you laugh boisterously at. Although Pavitr has a somewhat ingenuous spirit, he forges your mother’s signature on a detention slip you got for going to the bathroom despite your English teacher’s hard “No.” He’s always going out of his way to help you!

WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE FRIENDS WITH THEM?

Miles is known as one of the best players on the basketball team. Even though he doesn’t bounce it in the hallways, teachers are always telling him to put the basketball in his hands away, which irritates him to no end. Although teachers adore him, they always have to tell him to turn his phone off because it’s always buzzing from Snapchat notifications. He trades food with people at lunch and is on the Robotics team. Miles is one of the only two in the friend group who hasn’t gotten a detention. Is the only boy in your P.E. class who doesn’t treat it like the olympics and makes sure everyone has a good time. Cried once on FaceTime with you because out of stress he drew a dick on his AP Calc packet and forgot to erase it before turning it in. Unironically, Miles will play mermaids with you in the pool.

Hobie has both girls and boys fawning over him all the time, and people are constantly asking for his number. Never pays attention in class but passes. Hobie’s a “C’s get degrees” type of person, regardless of how well he does in school. For school spirit week, instead of bringing a backpack, he brings a Walmart shopping cart. Makes people laugh in class, but does it respectfully to not piss off the teacher. Teachers get sick of how often you pair up with each other for group projects but he tells them you’re a package deal and that you can’t be separated. Once you get your driver’s license, you make him check your parking jobs. He proceeds to ask you who gave you your license. Grew from 5’9 to 6’5 in the span of a school year and was always asking when second lunch was.

Gwen wasn’t on the bus last year, so she was introduced to the friend group because of her role on the theatre’s stage crew. It’s how she met Pavitr, who played the leading role in the Spring musical. To her dismay, her hydro-flask always falls off her desk, which makes such a loud clang she almost cries. Gwen’s locker is messy, with little magnets all over it. Has the best handwriting you’ve ever seen. Says random Disney bully quotes like, “I’ll kick you into next week if ya don’t give me your lunch!” when she sees you in the hallway. When she gets partnered up with you for a lab, she makes sure you finish before everyone else so you can just chill. Gwen always gets you a snack at the vending machine before any class you have together. She paints your nails in the back of the class.

Pavitr is a straight A student. People think he’s stuck in 2016 because he still wears those bands that you slap on your wrist. Gives people haircuts during break time, and wants to become a hairdresser when he’s older. During a fire drill he got yelled at because he stopped, dropped, and rolled for no reason. Tears fall from his eyes frequently because he holds in coughs in class. Jokingly put in a quote from the Lorax for his senior quote when he was on the yearbook team but forgot to take it out. His senior quote is, “Let it grow.” Pav fake falls in class but nobody suspects a thing because they think he’s innocent. He screamed with you when he saw a spider. Gets out of getting in trouble for being late because he got everyone Starbucks. (He got you a cake pop)

[bleedinqdove]

May i req a Rocky Rickaby x fem or gn reader whose relationship is like Jessica and Roger Rabbit? Or Morticia and Gomez Addams? Everybody’s stunned as to how Rocky, the fucking CRAZY MAN OF THE CENTURY, managed to bag the only cat whose looks are beyond his level. And their personalities are like the textbook definition of opposites attract. Reader doesn’t care though, they’ll still be devoted and loving to Rocky ‘till the day they die.

(Bonus points if the reader is an artist like him, and is also touch starved as him)

You can do this req later or delete it if u wanna, no pressure! I really love your writing ❤️❤️

Rocky x fem reader with a relationship like Jessica and Roger Rabbit

A/n: Sorry this took so long! Was busier than expected ;-;, but anyways this was a really fun request to do as well! You guys send such great requests.

SFW but a bit suggestive towards the end.

-Anon you are absolutely on to something here let me say.

-Compared to Rocky’s more chaotic personality, you are more elegant and poised, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less passionate. You both share that fiery desire for one another even if you two couldn’t be any more different at first glance.

-You’re mainly known around the block for your fashion and self expression, not being afraid to experiment and be bold with your styles. So no doubt that’s how you first caught Rocky’s eyes.

- And Rocky quickly caught yours with the beautiful way he played the violin and his bizarre yet impenitent personality.

-What can I say, tormented artists that were made for eachother.

-You have Rocky wrapped around your finger, and he’s hopelessesly devoted to you. Any time he’s near you he just can’t help but smile and admire you…sometimes you can even catch his tail wagging-

-Your touch has him over the moon, and even the simplest scratch of the chin causes him to get all giddy with delight.

-He’s your number one supporter and defender. He takes great delight in seeing all the different outfits you make and the clothes you design, and if anyone has a problem with what you’re wearing he’ll make sure to deal with them accordingly.

-He’s very protective of you and has no issue of dealing with tomcats who are a bit too flirty with you. Just walks right up with that sharp-toothed smile of his and barely veiled threats of violence.

Right as the intermission starts Rocky hops off the stage and makes a beeline for you. A soft smile crosses your face as you greet him, beckoning him to sit next to you. However a passing tomcat gives you a suggestive comment and wink before walking away.

Rocky’s immediate reaction is to get up and follow that bastard, but he is stopped by you hooking a finger around his suspenders and pulling him back. You didn’t want him to waste his time talking to some greaseball when he should be talking to you. Plus he couldn’t be getting into fights this early into the night.

“Sit down Rocky.” You say looking him in the eyes.

“Yes Ma’am!”

-Make no mistake you’re just as protective as well. No one gets away with disrespecting your man.

-If someone is talking particularly loud during one of his performances, you shoot them a dirty look that shuts them up real quick.

-And if anyone dares to flirt or insult him in your presence, they’re in for a treat. While not as publicly confrontational as Rocky, you’re just as disturbing, if not more, with your confrontations.

-You wait until they are decently away from the crowd, or alone until you walk up to them with a sickly sweet smile painted on your face. The way your face and tone seem so calm, yet your words are vile and not to mention your eyes piercing right through them.

-Needless to say you consider your job done once they’re scared shitless.

-Rocky sometimes spots you doing this and it makes his heart swell with gratitude and pride. You truly care about him!

-Yeah you two are insane for eachother.

-While you dont mind PDA, Rocky appears to be the more clingy one in public. Which you don’t mind either you enjoy his touch. You even give him the occasional kiss here and there.

-But in private it’s a whole different story.

-It’s hard to tell if you’re stuck in Rocky’s grip or he’s stuck in yours. You find it hard to keep your hands off him!

-Rocky no doubt enjoys all this attention you give him, most days when you two come home after a long night he finds himself covered in lipstick stains from your kisses. His least favorite part of the day is washing it all off, he’d like to wear them proudly.

-You hate when he’s away all night doing bootlegging runs. It’s on lonely nights like those that your touchstarvedness truly shows.

-But Rocky is quick to make up for all that lost time.

You watch as Rocky passes the last of the stolen booze to Freckle, who walks out of the garage leaving you and Rocky alone. At first Rocky did not notice you were there as he closed the trunk. In fact he almost bumped straight into you as he turned to follow Freckle.

“Oh! Well what brought you down here dear?” He asks, his eyes widening in surprise and excitement. Rocky was more confused if anything, you usually never go into the garage. However you knew why you were in here, you didn’t know if you could last another hour without Rocky! You let out a dramatic sigh as you lean against him and he immediately wraps his arms around you.

“I just missed you, that's all honey…though I do have a certain request I’d like to make if you don’t mind…?” You asked as his ears perked up in interest, he seemed even more inclined after you started to play with his tie.

“I know after these little runs you like to stay at the speakeasy a bit longer…but I’m oh so tired and just want to wind down…would you like to come home with me Mr Rickaby?”

Your smirk grew wider as you tugged on his tie bringing his face closer to yours. “You think you can help me relax…?”

Rocky’s tail shot straight up as he looked at you, a wide grin on his face as he nodded his head. It didn’t take a lot of convincing with him.

“Yes Ma’am!”

[lokisgoodgirl]

Captain's Orders [Avenger!Loki x Fem Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (11) A mission on a superyacht with Loki turns into an erotically charged disaster. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. Language. "Friends" with benefits. Mild Violence/Blood. (w/c 4.3k)

“Where’s Laufeyson?” you asked nonchalantly, shimmying the lace topped stocking up your thigh. Nat’s eyebrow arched, watching you attach the suspender with a snap. “Why? Got the itch already? We’ve been here fifteen minutes.” You scoffed, turning away as you felt your cheeks heat. Wanda’s dirty chuckle sounded behind you as she dug through her kit bag, fishing out a push-up bra. “I was only asking.” you huffed defensively, slipping on a pair of the three sets of heels laid out on the floor. “Usually someone keeps an eye on him.” It was Nat’s turn to laugh. “Mmmm, we all know how you love keeping an eye on him, right Wanda?” she said. “Right.” Wanda said with a smirk, fastening the buttons of her tight uniform.

“Let’s not pretend I’m the only one who looks at him, I mean come on…he’s hot.” you huffed, swivelling doe-eyed between your giddy friends. They glanced at each other before breaking out in another short snort of laughter. “We look, you touch; ‘Agent’…” Nat drawled, mimicking Loki’s voice. You rolled your eyes, shaking out the redundantly small white apron before tying it around your waist. A ridiculously short, tight skirt clung to your hips, making you wince as you tried to bend. “It’s just sex…” you murmured, trying and failing to catch the right angle for the ties. “It doesn’t mean anything, we fight and then we end up...you know.” Wanda made grabby hands in the air, making you shuffle over so she could loop the bow properly. “Why does he refuse to use your actual name though? It’s weird.” she said thoughtfully, pulling the knot tight to your waist. “I think it’s a power thing.” you pondered, “like he’s goading me or something. He does that.” Wanda growled lustily, pulling you back to her chest and gyrating theatrically against your ass. “A powerrr thing…” she purred deeply, echoing Nat’s impression before you batted her away. “I don’t know why you put up with it.” Nat said, leaning forward and smoothing a sheen of red on a perfect line to her lips. “I think we all know why she puts up with it.” Wanda cooed, as Nat passed her the tube. You put your hands on your hips, an extended sigh filling the space as you stalled for time. “Yes, he’s an arsehole. Yes, he’s insufferable. But I mean...it’s Loki, it comes with the-” “-best fuck you’ve ever had?” Nat purred, raising her eyes seductively to yours in the mirror. Wanda turned expectantly, her eyebrows twitching. “Oh absolutely.” you said, straightening your apron. “But he doesn’t know that.” They both burst into laughter. “I’m pretty sure Laufeyson considers himself the best lay anyone’s ever had, even when they haven’t actually ridden that ride.” Wanda chuckled, hoisting her breasts higher beneath the low cut white shirt. “Damn, this thing is fucking tight, huh?” Suddenly the three of you wobbled to the side. You clutched the wall, steadying yourself before giving a brief glance out the manhole. A speedboat had docked beside the yacht. “They’re here.” you murmured, taking the lipstick from Wanda’s outstretched hand.

“Ladies, you know your positions.” Nat said, her voice suddenly solemn. “In twenty minutes, the boat will be in international waters. Any hint of an agreed arms deal between these assholes and we take them down – those are our objectives. These motherfuckers are armed and extremely dangerous. But not as dangerous as we are.” she winked. You nodded as Natasha cast a keen eye over you both, inspecting the details of your completely inappropriate crew uniforms. “God, can you believe women actually have to wear these things for sleazebags like this?” Wanda muttered, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “At least they get the night off.” Nat replied sarcastically, before giving you a piercing glare. “And no sneaking off to fuck Laufeyson during active duty, alright?” she warned, tilting her head knowingly. You felt your skin burning again, a splutter rising in your throat. “That was one time.” you said, “and technically...technically...the mission was over.” “And Scotland?” Wanda chimed. The two of them folded their arms in sync. “OK two times…” you relented. “But it’ll be fine, he’s tucked away somewhere out of sight in case we need him so I’m fine. I’m cool.” They continued to stare at you, unconvinced. “I’m cool.” you repeated slowly through gritted teeth, holding their sceptical gaze. “Trust me…” you said, unable to stop yourself from talking to fill the silence. “He isn’t as irresistible as he thinks he is. I have it under control.” Nat raised a finger, her brow arched. “No fucking Loki Laufeyson. Captain’s orders.” she said. “Roger that.” you said.

One corner of Loki’s mouth curled in a knowing smirk as he observed the control panel of the yacht's cockpit. He ran his dextrous hands over the ship’s instruments of power; perfectly polished knobs and levels begging to be tugged. There was a yell from outside. A motor roared against the breakwater of the ship as a speedboat pulled alongside the ostentatious vessel of which Loki found himself unexpectedly in command. His smile stretched wider, closed lips pulled tight against his teeth. He was enjoying this. ‘The problem with these Russians’ Loki had keenly observed to a room of sceptical eyes at the mission briefing, ‘is that they have no style.' Rogers had huffed dramatically, tutting in that way he was known to do. ‘They may have no style, Laufeyson...but they have a weapons cache that could level a mid-size country and we have to stop them. There’s nothing stylish about genocide.’ Loki had held his tongue, but he knew the true path to success on this mission. To success in all things, perhaps. He combed his fingers past his temples, flashing a glance to himself in the mirror. Style. He wondered if the muscle which twitched at the corner of your eye when you were trying not to stare at him would come out to play tonight. The way that you re-adjusted your hips during those wholly inconvenient clenches beneath your little panties. You were always so wet for him. Desperately devoted in your body, if not your mind. Or your heart. He frowned, running his eyes analytically over his reflection. For someone who vexed him so, you were...intriguing. It had been millennia since the last time his passions had been so inflamed. So raw. And however entertaining, this presented a problem. Loki pursed his lips, gaze hardening as he sought a barrier to the mental images of you with those perfectly curved legs wrapped around another’s hips. Another, lesser man’s name building as a rumbling groan in your throat. Barnes. Rogers. Banner. Wilson, even. Or god forbid, Lang. He shuddered.

Whoever it was, they had a hold over you. And Loki was running out of patience.

Your submission was long overdue to his finely crafted overtures, and for a moment, Loki doubted his initial plot to stoke the fires of your passion using the hostility that simmered in your veins. Perhaps he had been mistaken. He shook his head with a low chuckle. His gifts of transfiguration did not simply extend to objects of the physical realm. All he needed was that...spark. And time. Thor, he thought with a sudden grimace. Blast that ridiculous red dress; he chided bitterly, recalling the night that ruined his carefully planned stratagem. Any Asgardian lady would have known. And yet, wasn’t that what drew him to you? Your naïve ways and the irritation that became his obsessive need. The longing to tease each venomous eye roll from your pretty little sensibilities. But now, his brother knew what Loki had known since after your fateful tryst in the dank cave where you gave yourself to him without yielding an inch. To scale the heights of ecstasy with a god and remain unmoved to his graces was...curious. But after the revelation that followed, it all made sense. Loki chuckled quietly as he pulled the stiff cap down his brow, remembering the bubbling fury on your face this morning after what you thought you had overheard. The red lace. The primal jealousy it invoked. The thought made molten arousal run thick and hot beneath his placid exterior. He could feel the perfectly fitted cotton at his hips tighten at the memory of the words he had come to rewind over and over as he stroked his aching manhood beneath tangled sheets in the dead of night. I hate you, Loki Laufeyson. A shiver of desire rolled down the god’s spine. How sweet that siren’s fire burned against the banal expectations of this life in which he found himself; the passion in her every animalistic grunt of his name as she succumbed against her better judgement. She knows not, Loki thought; nostrils flaring at the power he held. How could she. But she will. His lip twitched, observing the dent of his cheekbone flash into view, eyes sparking in the way that made your fragile knees buckle beneath his touch. The acceptance of his influence that you utterly loathed. Because it makes her feel..., he thought; smoothing his palms down the pristine white jacket tight to his stomach...alive.

You stood with your chin titled upwards, staring placidly at the wall as instructed. A tray of shot glasses lay flat in your palm, the other hand balanced seductively on your hip. Wanda was poised on the opposite side of the entryway, while Natasha waited behind the bar. The high ceiling of the superyacht was more akin to a hotel, with lavish chandeliers casting a soft glow towards the cool breeze from outside. A door slammed, brash voices peppering the air drawing closer. “Kapitan?”

The voice was loud and commanding. Their leader, you assumed. “They want to speak to the Captain.” Nat murmured into her microphone as the huge man thudded down the hallway towards you. Wanda shot you a knowing glance before she spoke. “Thank god we have you here to translate.” she muttered through a forced smile as the brutes plodded closer. The light scent of jasmine in the air was strangled by a waft of stale cigarettes and dark deeds clinging to their overcoats like black on night.

“Gentleman.” a firm, smouldering voice sounded from behind. Your core clenched, trying not to let your ankle give way in those ridiculous heels. One of the burly men removed two shot-glasses from your tray before knocking them back in sequence, helping himself to a lingering leer down your cleavage. He picked up two more. You smiled, fluttering your eyelashes. Loki came into view in your periphery, standing tall and proud at the top of several low steps. He began speaking in perfect Russian, unfamiliar syllables tripping from his tongue like the crack of a leather paddle against willing flesh. The men seemed satisfied, descending on you and Wanda to remove of the rest of the alcohol. You clasped the empty tray to your stomach as they dispersed, hoping that the fizzing adrenaline in your belly would subside. Don’t look at him. You tilted your chin to the side, catching the sight of him casually stalk closer in your direction. Fuck. “Where is the actual Captain?” you muttered through gritted teeth, maintaining the glacial set of your features. “He is, regrettably, indisposed. I assumed the position.” Loki purred innocently, rocking back on his heels as the Russians exploded with raucous laughter between themselves, reclining on the circular sofas. “Indisposed?” you hissed quietly, warning in your eyes. Loki smirked. “He’s quite well. He is having a well earned rest in the cockpit.” You raised an eyebrow. “In the cupboard.” Loki added, smugly. You inhaled sharply, feeling Nat’s judging stare burning into the back of your head. “You didn’t think I’d let the opportunity to let you see me in a naval captain’s uniform go to waste, did you darling?” Loki hummed. “How little you think of me.” he goaded, casting a sweeping glance around the seating area. You took the opportunity to give him a quick look up and down, an instantly regrettable decision.

Pure white military cotton hung against every angle of his body, perfectly fitted to the sharp edges of his muscular torso. The tunic was snug, straining gently on his broad shoulders as he clasped his hands behind his back. Three bands of golden edging trimmed the cuffs, matching buttons marching upwards to the stiff neckline. Medallions decorate the breast pocket, his shirt and tie pristine below that lethal jawline. The tunic hugged every straight edge of his frame, fitted to the edge of decency. You felt your breaths quicken, looking away to lessen the heavy beat of hot blood that had begun thumping between your legs. “Smile, won’t you darling?” he murmured, staring ahead before welcoming the final member of the nefarious party with a curt nod. The stranger strode past, not acknowledging you or Wanda, before taking his place at the centre of the gathered men. You glanced at Loki, accidentally meeting his eyes. They smouldered beneath the rim of a peaked-cap, the stiff white material sitting flawlessly against his alabaster skin. Shadows ended at the tips of his cheekbones, his lips curling in a low smirk as he relished your restraint. The god’s dark hair was twisted back in a knot beneath the band, a solitary curl snaking it’s way mischievously down the side of his neck. You caught the scent of his cologne, spiced sandalwood catching in the back of your throat. “Now be a good girl for me, won’t you?” he purred condescendingly, before giving you a soft wink. You stared at him coldly, compliance for the mission’s sake stretching to your cheeks with no hint of warmth. “That’s it.” he said quietly, his eyes flashing. “This wasn’t the plan.” you murmured, maintaining the farcical air of pleasantries for wandering eyes. Loki rocked on his heels again, raising his chin as he considered your statement with mock-sincerity. “Plans change.” he growled with a tilt of his head. His eyes ran down your skimpy outfit and back to your hard stare. The god leant forward, one of his palms resting on your lower back with the lightest of touches. Loki’s breath warmed your cheek, feeling your eyelids flutter shut. “For posterity, you are not the only one who delights in novel visual stimulation...Agent.” he whispered. Your stomach flipped as his touch vanished, the click of his heels on the polished floor the only mark of his retreat.

“BOLSZE.” one of the Russians roared, thumping the circular glass table in the middle of their circle. You saw Wanda feign fear, blinking quickly as she widened her eyes in faux-surprise. Lowering your chin to contain a smirk, you followed her to the bar where Nat waited with several full bottles of liquor. She lined up a new line of shot-glasses, beginning to pour. “Where’s the Captain?” Nat said without moving her lips, eyes flickering up to where the Russians were reclining back on the crescent shaped sofa. “In the cockpit cupboard.” you divulged reluctantly, feeling Wanda bristle beside you. “He’s fine, apparently.” you added, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I told you one of us should have been watching him..." A low chime of bells sounded from the surround system. The three of you glanced up at the nearest one hanging over the bar. “Good evening, gentleman and...ladies.” Loki’s voice purred through the speaker, the baritone laden with sexual magnetism. “This is your Captain speaking.” Nat rolled her eyes. “You will be able to feel the vibrations of my mighty vessel trembling up your thighs in three...two...one.” The yacht’s engine roared to life. You could just picture his stupid smug face smirking as he held the microphone to his lips in the cockpit. Widening his stance as he commandeered the helm in that ridiculously erotic uniform, his long fingers sliding over the control panel. “In a mere twenty minutes time, you will be be able to see a familiar, proud erection from the starboard side of the ship. Truly one of nature’s marvels.” he goaded playfully, regal tone thick in the air.

The rocks were the signal that the boat was passing into international waters, where your particular brand of justice could be carried out without any raised eyebrows. You wondered if the actual Captain that Steve had arranged would have sounded as panty-wettingly condescending relaying the same coded information. Somehow, you suspected not. “He’s gonna blow this.” Nat muttered, topping off the final shot glass in the row. “Not if this one blows it first...if you catch my drift.” Wanda nodded her head towards you, her plump lips spasming as she held back a laugh. Loki was now speaking fluent Russian through the microphone, muttering courtesies that you hoped were not as inflammatory as those he had bestowed on your own ears. The chimes sounded again, and you breathed a sigh of relief before turning towards the group of men. This mission couldn’t be over quickly enough. You sashayed towards them, the swing of your hips accentuated by the tightness of your skirt. A wet slick had formed between your legs. His fucking voice, really come on; you thought, placing the tray down on the table. A meaty palm met your ass with a loud smack. You let out a coquettish giggle, straightening and pulling the skirt down. All their eyes were on you, running ravenously across the uniform which left little to the imagination. The tops of your lace hold-ups were visible below the skirt hem, the lines of the suspender belt flashing as you turned. The next fifteen minutes passed uneventfully while you and Wanda allowed wandering hands and eyes to roam freely with every trip back and forth to the bar. Through the window, you could see a tall rock formation grow closer on the horizon. The erection, you thought with a smirk. A finger signal from Nat caught your attention, making you tilt towards the band of men grouping closer together making animated gestures. A sheet of paper had made its way on to the table, a golden fountain pen being passed from fist to fist as each made their mark.

“Bingo.” Nat’s voice purred in your ear, as you and Wanda took up your covert positions for shit going down. The final boss signed his name, pushing the paper to the centre as two locked briefcases came into view. Codes were punched into them, a series of beeps sounding before the latches sprung. You saw Nat’s eyes flicker to the window, seeing the rock formation side by. “Now.” she whispered. In one swift heave, she gracefully swung over the counter of the bar as you and Wanda sprang into action. Before the men closest to you could reach for their guns, you had kicked them squarely in the chest, sending them backwards. The air was a racket of infuriated cries and growls as bones were broken, arms twisted and vulnerable manhoods stomped by killer heels. You hooked your forearm around the largest man’s throat, giving it a sharp tug as you held on to his squirming bulky form kneeling in front of you, his arms flailing with a knife in hand. Wanda punched him in the face as she passed, making him go limp. Nat’s hair flipped back and forth as she tried to wrestle a gun from the final henchman, kneeing him in the groin. He growled with pain, a final snarl escaping him before she twisted beneath his arms and flipped him on his back. The goon hit the ground with a heavy thud, motionless. Nat dusted her hands. “Well it looks like we can all go hom-” Her eyes widened. A sudden pang seared in your side, making you stumble. “Sit…” Wanda said, her brow furrowed as she pressed a hand to your stomach. With growing panic, you realised that your white shirt was soaked with blood; spreading like one of Loki’s theatrical illusions across the cotton. “Oh my g-” you gasped as you fell onto the sofa behind you. “The one time we can’t wear armour…” Nat growled, falling to her knees in front of you and inspecting the damage. “I’ll radio base for immediate-” “Don’t touch her.” Loki roared, throwing the double doors wide. You groaned, pain crashing over the walls of adrenaline that had shielded the initial waves. He strode across the room with a look in his eyes that was hot enough to cauterise the gaping wound in your side ,placing a scathing heel-stomp on the back of one of the mobsters crumpled on the floor. “L-Loki, don’t…” you said shakily, willing him to save his theatrics. “How did he know?” Wanda muttered to Nat with confusion knitting her brow, watching Loki kneel in front of you with suspicion. “Know what?” Loki snapped. “That your incompetence caused this perfectly preventable situation?” “Us?” Wanda hissed, “You were the one that was supposed to be on stand-by, not fannying around playing dress up.” Loki scoffed, sucking air between his teeth as he batted Wanda’s hand away from your stomach. You winced, clenching your muscles against the change in pressure. “Fuck- bleeding out over here. Jesus.” you groaned through gritted teeth as one of Loki’s arms slid around your back. “What do you think you’re doing?” Nat yelled as Loki scooped you effortlessly to lie against his chest, his other arm under your knees. “Unless you wish to guard her when these cretins wake; I am taking her to the cockpit until our esteemed colleagues arrive with their particularly useless brand of aid. Is that satisfactory, Romanoff?” he hissed, his tone sharp and biting. Your vision was going blurry, but his cheekbones grazing your nose were still as sharp as vinegar. The muscle in Loki’s jaw clenched, his hardened face scouring theirs. Daring them.

Without another word, he spun on his heels and walked quickly back from where he came, tightening his hold around your aching body. “Loki…” you mumbled groggily, as he lay you on the cushioned bench by the helm. “Be still.” he muttered, frowning as he peeled your shirt upwards. You winced again, before softening to his movements; realising with mild-interest that the touch of his cool fingers against your wound felt more intimate than him being inside you. “Relax, darling.” he rumbled softly while his palms swept around the curve of your waist. Your head grew heavy, falling back against the cushions as your side warmed. You remembered when you were five years old, and somehow you had ended up outside in the snow barefoot. When your mother whisked you back inside, the hot bath she ran made your feet itch and tingle as the heat expanded every frozen cell beneath the skin. How you had screamed. But you didn’t scream this time. Loki’s magic melted deep into your body, tendrils winding viscerally around torn veins and muscle. You could feel it filling the hole made by the Russian’s knife, smoothing the sides together and pulling. A jolt made you gasp and arch against the sofa. “Fuck.” you sighed, opening your eyes. Loki’s features were set in concentration, searching your face while his palms cupped over your stomach. “Better?” he murmured. Tentatively you slid your fingers beneath his, holding your breath as you braced for pain. There was none. It must have shown on your face because Loki broke out into a closed smile; a real one that reached his eyes. “Better.” you said. “Thank you.” you added; bemusement layering a coldness on your words. The skin was perfect, only the drying layer of blood any indication of what had passed. “How did you know I was hurt?” you muttered, running you eyes up the patches of crimson darkening on Loki’s white tunic. He glanced down, before gesticulating casually and making the stains melt into themselves. Pristine once more. “Call it, intuition.” he said slowly, a tell-tale twitch of his brow making you frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped, straightening. Loki rolled his eyes. “Not everything I say is formulated to irk you, Agent.” he huffed, standing. Since when, you thought; the words forming behind your teeth before he lifted the tannoy, a low buzz sounding as he pressed the side. “Call off emergency rescue. The invalid is fine, tis’ but a scratch. Turning the vessel now, ETA in thirty minutes.” You frowned. “Why did you lie?” Loki shrugged. “If anything, it’s very on brand.” he muttered matter-of-factly, staring ahead as the massive yacht began to turn. Did I...hurt his feelings? you thought suddenly, shifting awkwardly on the red-streaked sofa. Loki sighed. “Do you really think I was commissioned on this outing to be your back-up, Agent?” he spat sarcastically, throwing a glance over his shoulder with a chiding pout. “Subtlety, combat skills and your feminine wiles were required. My assistance, was not. At least...not in the traditional regard.” “Are you going to keep talking like this for the next thirty minutes because if you are, I’m taking a nap.” you mumbled, fluffing the pillow before realising your blood was smeared across it.

“Rogers suspected that my embargoed powers of healing may be required.” he said, flicking some buttons. “But you are now bound to secrecy. He feels that it may make the team more complacent in their endeavours if they know they can be renewed. And I may not always be here…” he trailed off, readjusting his stance at the helm. “Right…” you said, regarding him with suspicion. “That doesn’t explain how you knew I was injured like...seconds after I did, from all the way up here.” You saw a silent smile pressing on his dimples in profile, craning your neck to get a better view. Your eyes ran down his back, broad muscles shifting beneath the pristine starched cotton as he set the ship’s course. They lingered on his ass, encased in the straight legged trousers that were just a little too snug. You bit your lip. “I think the better question is, how do I know that right now you wish for nothing more than to take you over this control panel. Legs spread and arms splayed to receive my attentions...Agent.” he purred, shifting a level with a theatrical clunk using the base of his palm. You shifted in the seat, squeezing your thighs together. The golden buttons flashed in the sunset low through the panoramic windows as he turned, pulling the brim of his hat down in a purposeful tug. “And not our well-trodden attentions, either.” he murmured, the slant of his brows betraying his amusement. “Something...new.” You felt your cheeks heat as Loki propped an arm against the ship’s wheel, resting back gently as he studied your reaction. “It would be my pleasure to sink myself into that beautiful arse of yours, Agent…” he purred, running a finger casually along the helm. “If you’ll permit me to steward fantasy into reality, of course.” You squirmed, the sudden thrill making a violent shiver roll down your spine. He was right. You’d been inexplicably thinking of nothing else since you saw him in that ridiculous uniform. Loki smiled, seeing your hips tilt upwards in an involuntary thrust; your wet lips parting as you tried to form words. “I expect answers.” you said, the stoic words trembling under the weight of your arousal. An hot slick had formed between your thighs, the sight of his long fingers running teasingly over his hardening cock through the tight white pants making your sex ache with a feral longing. “And you shall have them, Agent.” he hummed. “Now peel off that little skirt and get over here." His voice dropped to a growl, smouldering eyes narrowing playfully. "Captain’s orders.”

Continued in Captain's Orders: New Depths Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

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[clusterbuck]

lead me to the light

5x16 coda

buck turns his back.

taylor kelly and lucy donato walk into the hospital waiting room, and even as eddie has the thought it sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. two women walk into a bar… but taylor kelly and lucy donato walk into the hospital waiting room and strike up a conversation, and buck turns his back on them.

“wonder what that’s about,” eddie says, gesturing at the two women, and buck sighs.

“honestly, i don’t even want to know.”

eddie frowns. “are you—is everything okay?”

“yes?” buck says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “no? i don’t—” he breaks off and rubs at the bridge of his nose, and eddie tries very hard to ignore the feeling sparking somewhere behind his breastbone.

it’s just adrenaline, he tells himself. it’s just—the fire, and being a firefighter again, working with his team again. working with buck again. the exhilaration of saving a life. that’s all.

he’s not happy that his best friend is talking about his girlfriend looking like he’s smelling something sour. he’s not, because that’s not—it’s not what friends do.

so he’s not. he’s still riding the high from the fire, and that’s all it is.

“so,” buck says before eddie can ask him again if he’s okay. probably because he knows eddie was about to ask. “how does it feel? running into fires again?”

eddie’s face splits into a grin, so wide he can feel his chapped lips cracking. “like god has spoken,” he says. buck’s eyebrows quirk in confusion. but hen and chimney walk in before he can ask his question and they’re falling into a pile of limbs again, standing far closer than they probably need to as hen updates them on bobby’s condition. just because they can. eddie knows he’s not the only one feeling it tonight, this giddy elation at the fact that after months and months they’re finally all back together again.

they’re all together again, and bobby’s going to be okay, and as soon as bobby’s released from the hospital eddie’s going to ask him for a transfer back to the 118. back to active duty.

and this time, he thinks bobby’s going to say yes. this time, they both know he’s ready.

hen and chimney wander off somewhere. eddie sees taylor hovering over by the coffee machine, but she doesn’t look at them and buck doesn’t look at her, doesn’t even glance around the room looking for her. they might as well be two perfect strangers for all they’ve acknowledged each other since buck and eddie had stumbled out of the fire with bobby propped up between them.

eddie tries to tell himself that the thing he’s feeling is definitely not hope.

taylor gets her cup of coffee and walks out of the waiting room without looking back, and eddie bumps his shoulder against buck’s. “hey.”

buck looks up, hands settling back on the suspenders he’s been fidgeting with since they got to the hospital.

“you must be off shift by now,” eddie says.

buck looks at his watch and huffs a laugh. “about four hours ago, yeah.”

“okay, so—come over. pepa texted to say she’s keeping chris for the night, so you’d be stuck with your second-favourite diaz, but—”

buck spreads his arms, gestures at the turnout panes he’s still wearing and the soot coating half of his body.

eddie rolls his eyes. “go by the station first, obviously,” he says. “get your stuff, get your car. and you need a shower, and i call dibs on mine. but after. come over?”

buck doesn’t answer immediately. instead he looks around the room, finally, like he’s just realised there’s someone else he’s meant to be going home with, and he has no idea where she is.

but taylor is nowhere to be found, and when buck looks at him and grins it looks like a weight off his shoulders.

“probably for the best,” buck says. “you’ve been safe in your little office for months, who knows what the adrenaline crash is gonna do to you? better you’re not alone.”

“oh, fuck off.”

—

buck lets himself to the house as eddie’s towelling his hair dry. by the time he pulls a shirt on and pads into the kitchen, barefoot, buck is already standing in front of his open fridge, staring into it like it might reveal the secrets of the universe to him.

“i’m still not used to you having this much actual food,” buck says without turning around. “i have to make actual choices now.”

“don’t choose anything too fussy,” eddie says through a yawn. “or i’ll fall asleep before you can feed it to me.”

“is that why you invited me over?” buck asks. “so you wouldn’t have to cook for yourself?”

“you started going through my fridge while i was still in the shower,” eddie points out. “you made your choice.”

“yeah, yeah, okay,” buck says, and eddie watches with interest as a hint of redness appears at the back of his neck at the word shower, brushing the collar of the LAFD t-shirt he’s wearing.

“compromise,” eddie says. “i’ll make the salad.”

they work side by side, weaving around each other and handing off utensils just as seamlessly as they did at the fire hours ago. the silence that envelops them is comfortable, familiar like an old blanket. not the way eddie remembers it being with ana sometimes, and even shannon, pained, like they were both constantly searching for something to say just for the sake of saying it.

drawing comparisons to exes, eddie thinks, is also not what friends do. probably.

he waits until they’re sitting down with plates of food before bringing it up.

“so,” eddie says, trying to sound like he hasn’t spent the last hour trying to figure out how to have this conversation. “taylor.”

“what about her?”

“just—is everything okay?” eddie asks. “you hardly even looked at each other today.”

“you don’t even like taylor,” buck says.

“i don’t not like taylor,” eddie says, and buck raises his eyebrows. “yeah, okay. maybe i just want to know the gossip,” he says. “come on, buck, spill the tea.”

buck wrinkles his nose. “you’ve been spending too much time around may,” he says.

“yeah, i regretted it the second it left my mouth,” eddie says, and buck snorts.

“there’s no tea,” buck says. “it’s—i don’t know. it’s just—it’s been weird.”

“since she moved in?”

“since i told her—” buck starts, then trails off. “wait, actually—” he sighs, puts down his fork, and drops his head into his hands. “okay, so, did i tell you about how i kissed lucy?”

eddie blinks. “no, you did not.”

“it was right before maddie and chimney came back,” buck says. “so there was that, and then you—”

had a breakdown, eddie fills in, even though buck doesn’t say the words out loud.

“so there was a lot going on,” buck says. “it—slipped my mind.”

“slipped your mind,” eddie repeats. “okay, well, do you—does it—are you going to do it again?” the words send ice-cold fingers dancing down his spine, but he forces himself to say them anyway.

buck frowns at him. “no,” he says. “no, i—i didn’t even mean to do it the first time. we were drunk, it didn’t mean anything.”

“is that what taylor was talking to her about earlier?” eddie asks.

buck drops his head into his hands again. “she doesn’t know it was lucy.”

“i thought you told her?”

“she didn’t want to know!” buck says. “she just said all this stuff about moving on and working on our relationship or whatever.”

“is that what you want? to work on it?” eddie asks.

“i don’t know,” buck says. “which, like—aren’t you supposed to just know? isn’t that a thing?”

“i guess,” eddie says, but what he means is yes. because when it comes to buck, he just knows.

“i mean, i—i love her,” buck says. “it was—we were good. before this.”

“i don’t know the whole story,” eddie says. “but—i don’t know, that doesn’t sound like how you talk about someone you’re in love with.”

buck narrows his eyes. “i said that to you,” he says.

“yeah, and how’d that work out?” eddie says. “look, i’m not—i’m not trying to say you have to break up with taylor. only you can decide that. just—are you sure this is what you want?”

“big fucking question, eddie,” buck mutters.

“it is,” eddie agrees. “and you don’t need to have an answer right now. but maybe you should think about it.”

buck groans. “i asked her to move in. i can’t—”

“yeah, you can,” eddie says. “if that’s what you want. it’ll be a shitty thing to do, but less shitty than sticking it out because you feel obligated.”

“isn’t that what you were gonna do?” buck asks, and eddie huffs.

“yeah, and who talked me out of that one?”

buck rolls his eyes. “yeah, okay.”

“seriously, though,” eddie says. “i’m not—clearly i’m not an expert on relationships, i’m not trying to advise you one way or the other. i just think you should think about it.”

buck sighs. “therapy is really working for you, huh?”

“you should try it some time,” eddie says, and buck throws a slice of cucumber at him.

“pretty sure i went to therapy before you did.”

“and yet, eddie says. “here we are.”

“oh, shut up,” buck says, getting up to start clearing the table.

they do the bare minimum, putting away things that are at risk of going off if left on the counter and leaving everything for later, and start shuffling off to sleep. buck heads for the couch, and eddie stands in the doorway trying to find the words to tell buck there’s plenty of room in his bed.

just because it’s more comfortable than the sofa, of course.

but the words stick in his throat and buck settles on the sofa, arranging his long limbs with ease brought on by years of familiarity.

eddie turns to head to his bedroom, but buck’s voice stops him in his tracks. “hey.”

“yeah?”

“earlier,” buck says. “when you said that running into the fire felt like god had spoken. what did you mean?”

“oh,” eddie says, and smiles. “remember last year, when you said the universe is screaming at me?”

“yeah?” buck asks, eyebrows knitting like he doesn’t see where this is going.

“i think i’m ready to listen.”

[cuddly-dean-baby]

Banana Suspenders

Pairing: Aether Ghoul x GN!Reader Words: 446 A/N: All because I got some suspenders the other day and this Ghoul likes bananas

Walking through the corridors of the abbey, you take notice of some Sisters eyeing you. Some eyes were looking at the marks on your neck, the others staring at your hips. One of them lifts their head to make eye contact with you. “Got a problem, Sister?” you ask.

“Um, may I ask where you got those?” She points at your hips.

“I’ve had them for a while, forgot where I got them.”

With a nod from her, they all walked away, leaving you to continue with your little adventure to the Ghouls’ Den.

Upon walking through the doors, you hear a clatter of voices lapping over each other, greeting you. “Hello, Ghouls and Ghoulettes.”

You let your eyes wander the room, trying to find your thicc Ghoul. But before you could ask where he is, his voice cuts you off. “Where did you get those?!” His footsteps come towards you, stopping his body in front of yours.

You then feel your lower region get tugged towards his, thumping against him as well. You place a hand on his shoulder as one of his rubs the fabric of your suspenders. His tail feels the small bit that’s above your butt, leaving his free hand rest upon your hip.

Looking down at what he was meaning, you tell him what you told the Sister. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I got them. I’m assuming that you like them?”

Aether lifts his head to look at you, showing his teeth as he’s smiling. “Of course I do! They have bananas on them and they’re on you.” His eyes move to the marks on your neck, feeling pride fill his chest. “You’ve gotta wear them more often.”

“My suspenders or your marks? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I do both everyday.”

“Yes.”

“That doesn't help.”

“Yes to both.”

“Other from the bananas, you like to drag me around when I’m wearing these, don’t you?”

For your answer, he pulls you even closer, as if he’s trying to merge your bodies together.

~~BONUS~~

“Has anyone seen my suspenders?” You ask, looking around at where you placed them. You took them off for a moment so you could readjust your pants, which was only for one second. You had a feeling you would know if they dropped, but they didn’t.

At the thought of, “I can find them later. They couldn’t have gone far,” you watch from the side of the stage as Ghost began to play their songs.

Watching your Ghoul, you grab a glimpse at something yellow hanging around his hips. He turns his head to see you for a brief moment before grinning.

“That thicc bitch.”

[pleathewrites]

bellow the fire into my deadened lungs

chapter 2 excerpt — mother/son reunion read full story here

After 3 weeks of playing house with Keigo, Shouto asks, “Touya-nii. I have the day off today, and I want to take you somewhere. Will you come?”

Touya’s arm suspends in the air as he looks at Shouto like he’s lost his mind, mid-bite of his lunch, “I’m... literally a wanted criminal?”

Shouto studies his face for a moment, blank mismatched eyes not giving away a thought, before he says, “Your hair has grown and you've washed most of the dye out. ‘Dabi-the-Villain’ isn't known for an inverted balayage. The rest can be covered with a face mask and sunglasses. Wear one of Hawks-san’s hoodies.”

Touya hums, suspicious at the adamancy that his brother is showing, “Where are you trynna take me, Shou?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Fuck off,” Touya barks a laugh, biting into the sandwich he’s halfway done with. 

“Touya,” Shouto steps in front of him, and his eyes narrow, “I know you just got better, but don’t make me knock you out.”

“Not very heroic of ya, baby bro,” Touya stuffs the last remaining bite in his mouth, the stretch straining his staples a bit, but nothing he can’t usually handle.

“Yes, well,” Shouto smirks, evilly, “I’d argue it’s actually pretty on-point with the current state of hero society today. Wouldn’t you think?”

Touya just pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. He can’t believe his brother grew up like this — he reminds him of himself. 

‘He’s a little asshole.’ 

“Fine.” 

They successfully manage to get into a taxi without raising any suspicions, probably because their taxi driver keeps raving how his brother, “Really saved my ass the other day, kid, you’re going to be a great hero! Your friend, though, he’s a bit… abrasive, but he seems like he has the potential to be a good guy. Saves people with a frown on his face, but doesn’t make too much of a mess. The green-guy, though — ‘Deku’, I think? Don’t get me wrong, he’s very strong! But the crying is a bit… Well, you’re all still kids.” 

However, when the car stops and Touya sees exactly where his brother has taken him, his flight-or-set-himself-on-fire instincts start to kick in.

“Shou, what the fuck.” 

Shouto grabs his hand and hauls him out of the cab, his strength non-comparable to Touya’s, and he is not going to burn his brother again — not after seeing the healed over mess Shouto’s stupidly heroic actions cost him.  

“We’re going.” 

Touya digs his feet into the concrete, “What the fuck — No, she’s going to — ”  

“ — She deserves to know. You deserve to see her.”

Touya deflates. 

Before he knows it, they’re both standing in front of a white door with his mother’s name engraved across a gold plaque.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

Shouto shakes his head, “She talks about you all the time, Touya-nii. She mourns you, all the time.”

Touya pinches his nose in frustration, “I’m not the son she mourns, anymore. Don’t you get that?”

“Yeah,” Shouto says stubbornly, “The son she mourns doesn’t exist because he’s literally not dead,” his brother knocks on the door before Touya even has a chance to change his mind. 

A slightly muffled, painfully familiar, high-toned, “It’s open,” comes from the other side, and Shouto slides the door open and pushes Touya inside. 

Touya freezes. 

His mother doesn’t look a day older than when he’d last seen her, over a decade ago, but at the same time, she doesn’t look like his mother at all. 

This woman sits on a slightly messy bed with her feet propped up and ankles crossed, reading some brightly colored book, wearing oversized clothing with her white hair twisted in some kind of clip. 

This woman is relaxed. She’s content, happy, and comfortable. 

Her shoulders have sloped down, no longer carrying a burdened fear. 

“Oh?” She puts down her book and starts to lift herself off her bed, “Shouto, you brought a new friend?”

“Sort of.”

Touya can’t take this. His hands are sweating in the pockets of his hoodie and his heart is beating so loud in his ears, every sound dulling into an underwater muffle.

“Are you alright, dear?” His mother’s face is suddenly so close to his. Her eyebrows are tilted up in concern — such fucking familiar concern — and Touya notices the small gathering of crows-feet at the end of her eyes she’s accumulated this past decade.

His hands are moving, one pulling the face mask down and the other taking the sunglasses off. He clutches the items in his hands, needing something to hold onto as his mother’s grey eyes widen at the sight of his face. 

Her mouth gapes and something inside Touya’s chest absolutely breaks, ‘I knew it, I fucking knew it, she’s horrified, disgusted, I’m disgusting, I knew it, no, I knew it —’ 

Cool and soft pressure on his cheeks interrupts his thoughts, a thumb trembling across the staples under his eyes, “Touya?” his mother’s voice is a breath in disbelief, that same thumb traveling to the side of his nose.

Touya had never put his nose studs back in.

He doesn’t even register the clatter of sunglasses dropping to the floor as his own scarred hands encircle his mother’s wrists, his throat feeling so fucking dry as he cracks out, “Hey, Mama.”

His mother wails in absolute glee, “Touya!” and engulfs him in the coolest hug that ever warmed his core.

Peals of laughter ring in his ear, and the side of a wide smile presses against the healthy skin of his cheek, his mother praising the gods — "thank you, thank you, oh, Gods, thank you for bringing him back to me, my baby!"  — and tears drip onto his neckline.

When his mother pulls back, her hands return to cup the scarred skin of his face, and her broken heart reflects so clearly in her expression, “Oh, Gods, what has he done to you? What... have I let this world turn you into?”

Touya’s mouth gapes at the admission. 

He has never outwardly blamed his mother for any of Enji’s actions, for what this world has twisted him into, but the smallest and ugliest parts of him would hate his mother in the dead of the night for the slightest second, his inner child pleading, ‘Why didn’t she protect me? Why does no one care enough?’ 

He’s older now. He knows exactly what constant abuse does to the mind, knows that escape is never so black and white, and usually feels downright impossible, but that part of him — the part of him that was abandoned by his mother, ignored and told to keep quiet, it latches to his heart like a parasite in the worst of moments. 

“Mama,” He starts, “It’s not your fault.” 

His mother smiles at him sadly, so fucking sadly, “Whose fault is it, if not the ones that were supposed to dedicate their lives to your protection?”

His mouth wobbles in the telltale sign of his body trying to cry, but his melted tear ducts only allow the seams under his eyes to stretch and split over his staples, and he feels the drops of wet and hot blood trail down his face, “Ma…”

Delicate and cold fingers try to wipe away the blood that drips down her son’s face, ending in translucent smears across pinked and purpled flesh.

“I should have left. I should have kicked up a fuss and gone to every police and news station and demanded  help.”

Touya only shakes his head, “They wouldn’t have listened.”

“Well, I should have tried, Touya!” His mother cries and grabs his shoulders, her head hanging in shame, “Words… There aren’t enough to describe how sorry I am,” When she looks back up at him, Touya’s throat constricts at the look of desperation that’s etched into his mother’s face, “I will carry my failed responsibility till the day I die. I will be sorry to my grave, and even beyond that.”

The mention of ‘failure’ triggers something in Touya, something that urges him to fix this mood, tend to his mother’s sadness, soothe her, “I don’t blame you, Ma,” He lies, “I forgive you, alrigh’?” Anything to ease that agonized expression off his mother’s face. 

His mother starts to violently shake her head, “Don’t ever burden yourself with forgiving me, my son — my precious, wonderful boy.” Even against the deadened skin of his neck, he feels his mother’s cool touch, “I will love you anyway. I will be here for you, always.” 

Hearing his mother tell him that she still loves him, after all this time, after failing, after murder and villainy, revives a part of his heart he thought long-dead, “I love you, too,” And this time he means it. 

His mother smiles, “You can love me and not forgive me.” 

“Well, I decide if I forgive you, and I want to.”

She brings him into another hug, “There’s no rush,” and uses all her strength to squeeze his middle, pouring all the love she has through this decade-late touch. 

She asks so many questions — ‘How did this happen? Where have you been? Who helped you? Why have you returned? Who else knows?’ 

“Just a few people. Pro-Hero Hawks, Natsou, Shou.”

His mother’s hand never left his own since they sat down on her bed, “Not Fuyumi?”

Shouto sits on the other side of her, “No. We aren’t sure how she’ll react, if she’ll tell Father. Her intentions are always good, but she’s foolishly naive.”

“Geeze, Shou — a lil’ harsh, don’tcha think?” Not that Touya doesn’t agree but things were different for Fuyumi.

His mother sighs heavily and shakes her head in shame, “I raised Fuyumi all wrong, gave her the worst role model. I’m afraid I’ve turned her into a fixer, and women who try to fix things all the time end up in horrible situations,” She squeezes her sons’ hands and moves her head to look at both of them, “Please, don’t let that mentality consume her. Otherwise, she’ll end up here, same as me and all the other women.”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, “Other women?”

His mouth lets out a bitter laugh, “Half of the women in here are like me. Wives told they’re hysterical. Women pushed to their breaking point, locked away and not allowed to leave until their husbands sign for their release,” and the way she says the word 'husband’  sounds like poison. 

Shouto and Touya share a horrified look, anger kindling within their hearts.

A few hours later, a nurse knocks on the door to remind them that visiting hours are almost over. 

Touya puts on his facemask and is about to slip the sunglasses back on when his mother cradles his face again and gently tugs him to bow his head before she presses a hard kiss to his forehead, “Survive. Do what you must. Don’t let them lock you up.”

And even though Touya nods, he’s lying again because he doesn’t know if he can see a way around it anymore, doesn’t know if he’ll ever be allowed freedom for what he’s going to do.

He’s made his decision.

read full story here

my other works

[staceymcgillicuddy]

Day 15: Hot Chocolate

@hellcheerxmas

(I am fighting a headcold. I hope this makes some modicum of sense.)

December, 1987 Hawkins, Indiana

“Eddie!” 

That’s all he gets before he’s barreled into by a tiny elf wearing glitter antlers. Arms wrapped around his waist, a dopey grin on her face, and… yeah. Booze on her breath. So much booze on her breath. 

“Hey, Chris,” he says, all casual, as though it’s normal for the girl who works at the Santa photo booth while he serves time in Sam Goody to hug him like he’s just come back from two tours in ’Nam. “Uh, good party?” 

“The best. The best. Oh, my gosh, I’m so glad you came.” 

And, like, he normally wouldn’t have. But she asked him to. Waltzed into the store in her little tights-and-suspenders outfit and said a bunch of the mall employees were having a party at Steve Harrington’s house, and Eddie’d figured why not, and once a townie always a townie, and that skirt’s so fucking short. 

The thing is, Chrissy Cunningham is still way the fuck out of his league. It doesn’t matter that she stayed in Hawkins while her stupid jock boyfriend went off to college. Doesn’t matter that they’re both working dead-end mall jobs, because Eddie’s trying not to be a drug dealer for the rest of his life, and Chrissy needs pocket money, probably. Doesn’t even matter that they’re kind of almost friends, because they’ve shared the same breakroom a handful of times, and once, he smoked up in the parking lot with her and Steve and Robin Buckley out of the back of his van. 

None of that changes the fact that Chrissy is a walking wet dream while Eddie’s… fine. Okay. Not the sort of guy you bring home to mom and dad, though. 

“Come get some hot chocolate,” she says, grabbing his arm and pressing the lithe line of her body against his lanky frame. God, she smells good. Something floral and spicy, and he wants to bend down and sniff her hair, but that’d be weird, so he lets her lead him into the kitchen and over to the stove. A pot of melted chocolate is bubbling away, alongside marshmallows and sprinkles, and—seriously, did Steve do this?—giant bottles of whisky, rum, and bourbon. 

That explains the booze on her breath. 

Eddie watches, shboggled, as Chrissy pours at least four fingers of bourbon into a mug, then tops it off with a hearty helping of the hot chocolate. She sips, makes a face, then holds it out to him. 

“Little strong, don’t you think?” he asks, aiming for casual and landing in the neighborhood of mild condescension.

“No. I need it.” 

“For what?” He tries a sip, and he can handle his liquor, but ye gods, Cunningham. 

“Liquid courage,” she says, then leans on her tip-toes and kisses him. 

[metalhurricane]

Eddie Munson x Goth! reader, part 2

Masterlist

Note : y/n repeated one year, so she’s 18, Eddie’s supposed to be 19-20. y/n’s shorter than Eddie

Here it is. The day of going back to school. Actually, just going to school for y/n, as it was her first day ever in Hawkins High. Everyone else’s would be back from a small winter break. “Let’s make a good impression” she said to herself, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.

She had black eyeshadow, and a dark red lipstick on. She put black ripped jeans, with winklepicker (pointy shoes), a Sisters of Mercy t-shirt, with her fishnet sleeves under it, a warm cardigan over it, and her trusty leather jacket that she customized. She did put spikes, band patches, pins and safety pins in it. She slightly teased her hair on the side of her head, and put some hairspray in it. Finished the look with a few chains and necklaces, a scarf and gloves. She did put her beanie in her backpack, in case it was too cold.

She took her stuff, and went downstairs to eat breakfast. Her grandma prepared some pancakes for her. They ate, while making jokes about y/n’s appearance.

y/n : “I made sure to have no religious - I mean, satanic or pagan symbols”

They both laughed it off, but even if they didn’t show it, both of them were a bit nervous about it. In the 80s, if you’re slightly off track, you could get suspended for the absolute useless reasons. And y/n and g/n knew that.

y/n : “I’m going to bike there.” grandma : “Oh, why is that ? you can take the car, I told you” she said, her smile dropping y/n : “yeah I know, but with my appearance, I don’t know how they will react, and I don’t want to take grandpa’s car, and have some assholes willingly destroy it, because of me...”

g/n said nothing, because she knew y/n was right. It was the first day, she could get in trouble just by existing. Grandma knew that y/n knows how to assert dominance, and not get eaten by the golden boys and girls of the town. But, it is still only the first day. For know, she’ll bike.

Sitting on her bike, y/n is on time. She has her walkman earphones around her neck, so that she can still hear the road around her. She’s blasting Iron Maiden on it, and from the moment the high school appears to her, she can already sense eyes on her. She arrives at the highschool, and park her bike, while whispers and laughs settle around her. She ignores it, just like she usually does, and walk inside the school. She hasn’t walked for that long, when a blond guy, wearing a basketball bomber appears in front of her.

“Halloween isn’t here yet, you freak”

Laughs from people all around the scene. y/n smirks and slowly pauses her walkman. And with the brightest smile she says :

“Pardon me, I was listening to spooky music. What did you say ?”

And she knows that for these boys, making them repeat their punchline actually breaks it, and it angers them. As planned, Jason, angry, said :

“I said, it’s not halloween yet, you freak !”

y/n kept smiling and walked up to him, tapping on his shoulder :

“You should say that to your mom my dear, I saw her in the exorcist’s bedsheets last night” and then she left him dumbfounded, and even more angry, that she had the audacity to confront him. He yelled profanities at her, but she walked away with a satisfied grin on her face. You shouldn’t mess with y/n l/n, or else it will end bad.

The rest of the morning was similar. Everyone looking at her, giving her shitty comments, even the teachers. At 10 o’clock, she was actually asked to go into the principal’s office. She looked at the watch saying “Ah, they’re late”. In Virginia, she couldn’t even go to her first class of the morning, that she had to go to the principal’s. She went there, and the principal gulped when he saw her.

Principal Higgins : “y/n l/n is that right ? You’re new here...” y/n, taking a seat : “Yes.” Principal Higgins : “You know why we’re here ?”

y/n sighs. Then she sat up straight in her chair.

y/n : “Yes. You are going to tell me how my outfit and my hair, and... basically my whole physical appearance is a problem, and that it isn’t how a student is supposed to dress.” Principal Higgins : “Well, I...” y/n : “and I’ll answer that my outfit does not have anything to do with my grades, or how I behave in school. You saw my grades from last year, right ?” Principal Higgins : “Yes, but you repeated one year already !” y/n : “Yes but my grades from this school year are not bad. And in my file, I wasn’t the one causing trouble. I’ll make no trouble, as long as no one tries me.” Principal Higgins : “Listen young lady...” y/n : “Save your breath, principal. I know the rest of your speech, I’ve heard it a million times. I’ve read rules of procedures of Hawkins High, I’m not breaking the rules by just existing, so there is no point in wasting our times here. On that note, I have history class. Have a nice day !” Principal Higgins : “But...!”

And on that note, she stood up, and walked out of the office. She returned to class with a smile, while everyone looked at her, making disgusted faces.

-------------

(The day after Mike and Dustin met y/n)

Mike and Dustin biked to the trailer park, so they could see Eddie. They had a big new to tell him...

Dustin : “Really Eddie !! You have to believe us ! She was just like you !” Mike : “No, an even better version ! a girl version though...”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, not understanding one bit of what the kids were saying, as they were talking at the same time. Eddie turned to face them, with a beer in his hand, and pointing at them with his finger, adorned with his ring.

Eddie : “Listen children, it doesn't mean that because you saw a girl wearing black, that she’s a metalhead ! Girls like that simply do not exist in this stupid town !” Mike : “Eddie, you have to believe us !” Dustin : “Look, she drew the dragon here !” Eddie, looking at the sketch : “Yes, her drawing is really nice, but still.” Dustin : “Eddie, this is the truth ! She said that she heard of DnD, and thinks it’s cool !”

Eddie’s eyes became big, while Mike tried to remember something

Mike : “Her jacket !! I remember her jacket ! It had lots of band patches on it, like the bands you listen to...”

Mike stood up and walked to Eddie’s room, with Eddie yelling at him from behind, quickly followed by Dustin. They were all in Eddie’s bedroom, while Mike was roaming through Eddie’s tapes. He picked a few corresponding the patches she had that he could remember. He put them down in Dustin’s hands. There was Black Sabbath, AC/DC, Whitesnake, Motörhead, Poison, and Mötley Crüe. Eddie checked the tapes.

Mike : “there was much more patches on her jacket, but this is what I can remember...”

Now Eddie is standing still. The kids were not metalheads... but Mike did not go randomly through his collection, he really searched for these tapes. They never lied to him, why would they start now ?

A big grin appeared on Eddie’s face, and he then dramatically finished his beer in one go, smashing it on the wooden dresser. He then jumps on the chair who serves to put laundry, and laughs like a villain. Mike and Dustin, jumpscared into each other arm’s, watching their leader with a worrying look on their faces.

Eddie, pointing at them : “This girl better be existing, because you’re not messing with my dreams you kids. But if you did, beware. We’ll have our answer when school starts again tomorrow.”

-----------

(fast forward now)

Lunchtime. Ughhh. Again, the pain of having to find a table, and a seat. And hopefully not eat in the toilets.

y/n walked out of her class, still whispers going around her. The laughing went down a little, as the other students saw her came back smiling from the principal’s office. Maybe they shouldn’t mess with her in the end ?

Eddie and the whole Hellfire club went sitting at their table for lunch, talking about DnD as per usual. Eddie glared at Mike and Dustin, and whispered to them “She better be here”. Both of them were anxious, and looked at each other, thinking if it would have been a better idea of keeping that for themselves, and let Eddie find out at school ?

At this moment, y/n enters the lunch room. Almost everyone turns to look at her in disgust, laughing and talking about her.

Eddie and the whole club notices her immediately. He looks at her in complete shock, like he hasn’t seen the sunlight in his entire life. “This is my dream girl” he thinks to himself. 

 He never saw a girl that seemed to have the same interests as him. In this day and age, in a little town, it was almost impossible to meet someone who likes darker things, let alone, a girl ! She was the coolest and most badass person he’s ever seen. She was dressed in all black, with a battle jacket and a piercing in her nose !!

He then grabs Dustin on his left by the arm and whisper to him “Well, you met her, right ? call her, do a sign, anything ! Make her come here !”. As Dustin almost fell of his chair as Eddie let his grip off, him and Mike quickly waved to her.

She’s scanning the place, ignoring everyone when she saw hands in the crowd. She notices Mike and Dustin at a table and smiles. She walks up to then, and say “Hi guys”

Dustin : “Hi y/n !” Mike : “Hi y/n !” y/n : “Can I sit ?” Eddie : “For sure milady, you are gracing us with your devilish presence” he says, while pushing Gareth away to make place for her. He then makes a theatrical flip of his wrist to indicate the place next to him.

y/n giggles a bit, and walks past everyone at the table to sit next to Eddie.

y/n : “Thank you sir, may I say you are the lord of this fellowship ?” she says with a wink Eddie, screaming inside, because she made a reference to LOTR + the wink : “I should humble myself, I'm more of the guardian peasant of all these lost sheep” Mike : “Eddie is our Dungeon Master” he said smiling

Eddie looks at Mike with a death glare, like how DARE he speaks to her instead of him ?? But quickly turns to her with a grin when she speaks

y/n : “Oh that is great, how does that work ? I’ve never played DnD, but I’ve heard of it” she says, while starting to eat her meal. Eddie, gleaming : “Well, don’t get me started on that, or else I won't stop talking” y/n : “go ahead” she said smiling

While Eddie starts explaining, as briefly as possible how DnD works, the entire crew at the table stopped functioning. From the moment they saw her, they couldn’t stop staring at her. And now she’s sitting here !! at THEIR table???? a GIRL???

Eddie finished explaining to y/n, who was still eating. Then she noticed all eyes on her, and saw that everyone stopped eating to look at her. She blushed a bit and said “something is on my face ?” with a shy smile.

Dustin : “Oh no, you look great !” Gareth, red as a tomato : “It’s j-just.... t-that we don’t have ladies eating w-with us that often you know...” Keith : “never actually...” y/n : “well I hope I'm no burden for y...” everyone : “no no no no no !!!” y/n, sighing : “good, but please, eat something !”

And of course, they all started to eat. Eddie kept looking at her, and giving her his best smile. He wants her. He needs her, is what kept playing in his head.

y/n : “So... Mike, Dustin, how did the poster work ?” Mike : “Well... The dungeon master is right next to you, but I would say that it was approved ?” Eddie, turned his face towards her : “Yes, approved. You did a great job.” y/n : “thank you, but I just showed Dustin how to do it... by the way, I don’t know all your names, besides Dustin and Mike ? I’m y/n” she said smiling.

Everyone around the table introduced themselves before Eddie, whom wasn’t very happy about it. He wanted to be first for her. When his turn came lastly, he said : “I am Eddie “the Freak” Munson, it’s a pleasure to meet you y/n”, he says, taking her hand and mimicking kissing the back of her hand. y/n starts blushing lightly and giggles.

y/n : “nice to meet you too Eddie. But you’re not a freak. And...”

She gets closer to him and whispers

“Kept the best for the end, right ?”

[applefan28]

Oh, and if you feel like it and I can send another.. (sighs..) Suitcase. For the character ask :)!!

SOUPCASE MY BELOVED of course :)

Sexuality Headcanon: Because i've been seeing it on tumblr a lot and have been very much taken by the art and content of it, aroace Suitcase is really neat :) Like, Suitcase’s whole deal in the show revolves around alliances, friendship, trust, etc. Sure, even though there is no canonical romantic subplot or show in ii, Suitcase to me falls under “would not have any correlation to a romantic storyline with anyone or herself in her own feelings”. She’s a pretty lonely girl more occupied with emotional bonds and connections with her teammates. Not to say romance can’t be involved, but Suitcase was more headfirst into wanting unity amongst her teammates, wanting connection, wanting all to not feel at all left out or unheard, she just wanted to be a part is all (and as an aromantic, none of that feels romantic to me lol). Suitcase also just seems like someone who would never really pick up on social cues in romantic contexts about others or towards herself yknow? In the same vein as Apple who never thought of it or caught onto such feelings, Suitcase just didn’t catch the memo and she’s fine with that (just confused as to how the hell do others feel that way?) If anything, unlike Apple, she doesn’t feel all that inclined to partake in romantic endeavours, because it doesn’t come to her nor is it part of her communication in displaying love for others. I do enjoy her being more of a girl liker in an aroace way if anything, because yes <3

Gender Headcanon: I love both trans gal and transmasc “girl” aligned nonbinary suitcase, as well as being intersex. For sure, she isn’t cisgender, so I’d think her gender would be just as about less concrete in labels as her understanding in attraction. Transfem in the sense that as she aged, her voice deepened, but still has that “girlish” charm in it as she’s pretty fine with her voice, but likes to add flare to it out of boosting her confidence. Fem-aligned transmasc also is based off the voice change. Her having identified as “girl” in a very nonbinary “im my own definition of Girl” way, she along the lines realizes she’d like to transition somewhat masculinely, because she enjoys the thought of having a blend of it in how she presents herself (especially by voice). All this whilst wearing plain, boxy, and politely feminine clothing (always fond of the suspenders + skirt + buttoned down + headband + mary janes combo <3)

A ship I have with said character: Suitcase x Suitcase. I want this girl to love herself and be able to stand for herself without feeling pressured or at risk.

A BROTP I have with said character: Pickle, id love to see them two game and have a sorta nice talk about their own personal feelings they’ve been in battle with! I like Pickle being the “gamer” of the hotel, and Suitcase with that “10/10 would watch again”, there’s potential silliness in such a dynamic :^) Suitcase isn’t really as much of a gamer as Pickle, she’s casual in her manner of speech and communication, which brings in this friendly banter that meshes well with Pickle’s chill and goofy attitude. Not to mention, they’re both characters that are about personal growth and regaining a confidence in themselves that they’ve lost from another putting them down. I think they’d have some heartfelt talk about the such… though it would be kinda funny knowing Suitcase has a sorta odd relationship with the same guy that’s probably dating Pickle… lol.

A NOTP I have with said character: Nickel seems very obvious to go with, Knife as well, honestly about any other guy in the show.

A random headcanon: I know it was a one-time visual gag, but the scene where she has tools in her makes me think Suitcase is well versed in construction/engineering/mechanics and probably is OSHA certified. You know how there’s that headcanon of three background characters being Suitcase’s dads? I’d like to think the three built their home and managed around, with the electrical engineering and plumbing and what have you, doing their own fixings with a young Suitcase around curious about what her dads are doing. They were a hands-on type of family who when something was up, any of them had to take care of it by hand and Suitcase was no stranger to learning and taking care of performing a fixer upper. Maybe she wanted to or is in the trades! I just think it’s funny if Suitcase were OSHA certified and Test Tube was not.

General Opinion over said character: Suitcase is a sweetheart that really deserves better treatment in universe and in her writing. i don’t talk of her much but she’s in the range of “sad lonely girls that deserve the world” that i tend to enjoy :) She’s just so quaint to me, tragic with issues and burdened by loneliness, i also wish she weren't just dumped around as being the weak nimble character with le plot relevant hAlLuCiNaTiOnS. Suitcase should have a gun, she should go stupid go crazy, i want her to curse out on Nickel sooo so bad, i hope she wins and uses the money for her own good <3

[showtoonzfan]

I guess I sort of have a rewrite thing going on with Vox. It’s not for anything, I just had certain thoughts on how I WISH his character was. Now yes, I know we haven’t even been introduced to him yet or know much about him, but I always had the feeling he’s going to mostly be EXACTLY how most fan comics portray him, so why not share?

Keeping to the original source material, since Vox is from the 50’s, and Val is from the 70’s or 80’s, I picture that Vox doesn’t ACTUALLY like Val, he’s just sucking up and acting fond of him so they can keep their partnership. What I mean is, since Vox rules the TV industry or whatever he does, I picture him the typical old greedy money maker who’s obsessed with nothing else other than the money of course, similar to those old cliche disney villains who were greedy. Since Vox is obsessed with money, this is especially why he decided to get with the times instead of sticking to his period like Alastor. I also see him as extremely homophobic because 50’s lol, which is one of the reasons why he hates Val, though he’s not immune to sticking at the porn studio to make sure everything is in check. He sees anyone around him as something he can exploit for money, and anyone he sees as useless, he’ll push away. While he sticks with the times, I see him wearing the typical 50’s clothing, like suspenders, ties, and suits. I also see Vox being in his late 50’s. I feel like this would also make his and Val’s dynamic interesting because they’re both using each other and they both KNOW it, causing a lot of tension, and no not sexual tension, ACTUAL heated tension. Vox’s punishment is that due to how greedy he is, he’s forced to work with Val, someone he downright despises and hates being around, but since he’s so obsessed he makes himself forced to it. Now I’m pretty sure someone else can think of a more interesting punishment he could have, but I just wanted to share what I hope and wish his character will be like, since I fear he’ll just be this over the top “I’m better than you haha” character like Fizzarolli, as well as having a romantic relationship with Val, something I’m not really jazzed about seeing—

[a-problematic-writer]

New and Improved S1 Jesse Profiles

Like it says on the tin! Just the improved versions of my S1 Jesse profiles. Got all of their lore sorted and am happy with where they are! A few got new names. That’s about it! Under a read more because, dear lord, did I have a lot to say.

Jemma! (Yellow Clip/Highlight)

Chaos incarnate because she's a child at heart. She's aloof and a bit of a loner and socially selective. (Yes, this does make running Beacon Town hard, but she manages) Only certain people have been able to get into her circle. And it's only then that her more chaotic traits jump out. She has more sense and self-control than other Jesse's who may try drinking lava, though the curiosity would be there. She prefers to doodle than participate in meetings or do paperwork. (However, she does know to an extent she's supposed to do those things) Always down for a game of tag. A 4'11'' can of whoop ass. She's kinda like a small dog. Can and will pick a fight and win. Professional at hide and seek. A whole Lesbian. So into women it HURTS. Left-handed! Her weapon of choice is a trident and WHEW. It's probably custom and enchanted to the nines. That's her BABY. Despite not quite understanding redstone to the fullest, she thought Ellegaard was the coolest. Family life wise, she was raised by her grandparents.

Her nickname's include Jem, Emma, and Em. [Em is typically exclusive to Petra <3]

She would honestly be the one playing with the kids around Beacon Town instead of making the big decisions for the city. This is one of the few Jesse's I imagine leaves with Petra. She doesn't want routine! She wants to explore and have fun! Her Beacon Town was like canon standard BT. *Chaos.* Just the way she likes it.

She’s dating Petra and, besties, they are the sweetest couple. They’re out there having fun together exploring the world!!!!

Josiah! (Red Suspenders)

He's tired. Really tired. Let him sleep, please. But if you do, know he sleeps like a rock. And is super cuddly in his sleep. He likes, like, 5 people, maybe (Aiden's one of them). Despite that though, he's like super personable. People like him a lot even if he likes none of them. If Josiah likes you, though, he's likely to tell you how much you mean to him. Super affectionate to his friends. Doesn't want to even be touched by other people. He's kinda grumpy. I suspect it's because he's always tired. Sarcastic to everyone. Except his friends. As I said, he loves his friends and would lay down his life for them. He prefers animals to people, but says that; "Some animals are just as jerk-y as humans. Those animals are cats. They are surprisingly my favorite of the not-pig animals." A bit of a griefer, ngl. Can and will destroy you (and your minecraft house). My tallest Jesse coming in at 6'0''. Absolutely ADORES bracelets. Wears several. Pansexual. Anygender goes, babeyyyy. Right-handed! Weapon of choice is your standard diamond sword preferably with Sharpness and Knockback. Enemies are gettin' FLUNG. He thought Gabriel was the coolest, hands down. He lived with Axel and his family until he was old enough to be out on his own.

His nicknames include Jo, Si, and Siah. (Siah's rare and might get you punched unless you're Aiden in which it will get you stabbed [Guess who still calls him Siah and starts to get away with it])

He likes Beacon Town a lot, but running it is a hassle. He leaves with Petra with some serious reservations because f r i e n d s but he knows they'll be there when he gets back. (He ends up catching up with an old rival while out and about anyway and makes 3 new friends) His Beacon Town, just like Jemma's, was pretty canon standard. Though, I definitely think he kept things a BIT more uniform!

Ngl, he’s likely dating Aiden. They’re both mean and get to be mean together. On the flip side, I could also see him and Axel together. I’m not willing to officially choose. It’s one of them.

Jasmine! (Red Clip/Highlight)

The absolute brightest ball of sunshine you'll ever meet! An optimist through and through! Though, not quite in the morning. Let her get awake though and she's back to herself! She LOVES to dance and you best believe if you're her friend dancing is a must and required, with or without music! She's extroverted to the MAX. Collects friends like baseball cards and cherishes them even more. Kind of a flashy/glamorous person! She can totally run in heels and loves wearing nice clothes. 5'6'' and loving it! She's fun-sized :> Has the patience of a saint. And is so forgiving it's insane. Forgive and forget to the max of the phrase. Though she doesn't let people step all over her in the slightest. Pansexual :> Right-handed! Loves a nice gold sword [Flashy, remember?] Definitely a dual wielder. They're enchanted to the max and she can do DAMAGE with them. Definitely learned from Isa. Thinks all of the Old Order were the coolest. She grew up on her uncles farm.

She is known as Jazz to everyone and that's what she prefers to be called! [On the rarer side there's Jazzy which is exclusive to Aiden and Stella]

Beacon Town is her pride and joy! So, of course, she stays. She's ready for a quiet life. Hers definitely has a more modern, cyberpunk, solarpunk vibe! Glitzy and flashy but in the most down to earth way with plenty of room for the citizens to vote on projects and include their own!

She’s dating Aiden. They’re the sunshine/grumpy trope, wholeheartedly.

Javier! (Green Suspenders)

He's the type to joke about/make light of minor inconveniences and big problems. He's very sarcastic but in like the nicest way possible? He's serious despite his constant joking, I promise. He loves hats? Beanies, ball caps, etc. he owns them, he wears them, he loves them. Also hoodies! He owns like 50+ ("What? They're comfy!" is his number one defense to people's questioning stares at his hoodie collections) He's not all that into sweets. Will occasionally eat one or two. He really likes jazz music; more often than not that's what's playing on his jukebox. He's 5'5'' and mad about it. Honestly, he's just like your average older Gen Z. You know, the one who's over the age of 16 and shitposts about how shitty life and the world are. The definitely not okay but pretends they are kinda Gen Z. That's Javier. Architecture buff. He really knows his stuff! Another Pansexual :> Left-handed king! Just hand him any kind of weapon he'll learn how to use it with finesse <3 Thought Soren was the coolest and incorporated a lot of his architecture style into his own [suffered a horrible version of "never meet your heroes"] He was raised by his two moms and they lived happily in town.

He goes by the nickname Javi more often than not. Friend or foe. He's Javi. (Or Jav [said like Javi without the 'ee' sound at the end] by close friends/a partner)

He's dedicated to leading Beacon Town. He likes the stability the routine of it gives him. So, he let Petra go off on her own but not without swearing her into writing at least twice a month. His Beacon Town is very lush and soft on the eyes. Brick and terracotta are used liberally and he's always happy to include citizens in the planning of new expansions.

Javi’s either with Aiden or Lukas; maybe Aiden and Lukas. I don’t have much else on the matter except that he likes his men tall and wearing a leather jacket.

Jaime! (Blue Clip/Highlight)

She's probably one of the kindest people you'll ever meet but she is so sad. She's afraid of being alone and often wonders if she's good enough. Needs a hug fr fr. A long one, at least an hour of being held. She might cry though. Despite this, she tries to be upbeat and jokes a lot. And can be a menace when she wants to be. None of her friends are safe from pranks and teasing. Also, she's super loyal to her friends! Definitely a ride or die. So brave! Sometimes a bit reckless, but she gets the job done. Definitely has a bit of a temper. Though it's rare it shows through. Very curious! Can sometimes seem nosy, but she just likes learning things! This plays well into her ability to sleuth things out and solve mysteries. She's a clothes thief, 100%. Shirts are the number one thing she takes. Owns at least a couple from all her friends. A really good piano player. It's a hobby she doesn't often get to take part in. Reading and adventuring usually take precedence. Mostly because she can't say no to a good book or new adventure. A decent enchanter and potion brewer! Another Pansexual <3 Right-handed! Sword and shield is her forte. Definitely uses a diamond blade with Sharpness on it. Ivor's her favorite Old Order member. She's learned a lot from him. She was raised by her parents who were the Minecraft equivalent of governors/mayors/politicians.

Jaime's typical nickname is Jay! Aime is another one though on the rarer side. Typically used by Olivia, Axel, and Stella. The rarest goes to Jaybird and Blue Jay. Jaybird coming from her parents and later being adopted by Lukas and Blue Jay coming from Aiden <3

She adores Beacon Town and wants a life of peace after S2 so she chooses to stay despite hating watching Petra go. Her Beacon Town is Steampunk and super lush and green and filled with flowers. It's a center for travel and an adventurer's stop!

She’s, of course, dating Aiden, currently. They’d had a will they/won’t they dynamic for some time. Also, she and Lukas had a small stint as a couple. A few months or so, methinks.

Javon! (Yellow Suspenders)

Has a bit of a temper and that makes him seem really mean but he's actually so nice. Like so so so nice and super gentle. He just usually doesn't like strangers and that makes him seem very unapproachable. He loves his friends though. Would commit crimes in their favor. Would also kick someone's teeth in for them. He's really good with redstone and rigging traps; specifically explosives. A griefer sometimes. Definitely loves Boom Town. He loves playing the guitar and learned at a young age! Likes collecting rocks; has all sorts of cool ones. While he dislikes strangers he's still super polite. And great at moving a crowd! Another Pansexual for the Pansexual Jesse tally. Right-handed! Nothing beats explosives when it comes to weapons however he's a decent archer! Loves his crossbow dearly. His favorite member of the Old Order is Magnus. He was raised by his dad. They lived in a little cabin on the outskirts of town.

His close friends call him Von! It's the only nickname he really has.

He also stays in Beacon Town. May or may not have been for a blonde, no one can prove it though. His Beacon Town is full on Steampunk. Greenery can be seen in some places. It's kinda like an extension to Redstonia in a way. Redstone and technological advancement are appreciated in both—with a side of destruction also being achieved in BT.

He’s dating Lukas. That blonde has had him in a chokehold for years and, tbh, who would blame him?

[turtlethon]

"Raphael Meets His Match"

Season 4, Episode 17 First US Airdate: September 15, 1990

A contest to win a cruise leads to Raphael encountering a villainous pirate.

"Raphael Meets His Match" premiered as the second half of a double bill with "Bebop and Rocksteady Conquer the Universe". This is the first and only episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles written by Charles M. Howell IV, who prior to this worked on a number of Hanna-Barbera series and would go on to write for Animaniacs.

An abridged version of the new title sequence makes its debut here, running for only thirty seconds (half as long as the normal one). This is carried over for the Lionsgate DVD release. For Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles, the full-length titles are used, making this almost certainly the first time a TMHT episode ended up with a longer running time than the TMNT version.

The Turtles emerge from Pick-A-Peck-O-Pizza, grousing about the miniscule portions of the take-home meals they’ve been sold. Michaelangelo suggests that this penny-pinching must be how the owner of the establishment, McDonald Crump, “became a bazillionaire”. Yes, we’re going there.

Donatello is thrilled to find he’s won a prize from a scratch card included with his tiny pizza, but soon finds himself dismayed when he learns this simply means he can claim another miniscule meal. Leonardo and Michaelangelo scratch their cards and get the same outcome. Raphael, however, wins a pass to Crump’s “big birthday cruise”. Leonardo shoots down the idea, pointing out that the Turtles can’t go wandering around in public.

Later, in the Lair, Raphael reveals his plan to the other Turtles and to April: as this is a costume party, he’ll go as... himself. April will also be attending, covering the event for Channel 6.

On the night of the cruise, the Turtles emerge from a manhole and watch as attendees board the ship. Donatello reassures Raphael that he’ll fit right in, pointing out that several other guests are wearing home-made Ninja Turtle costumes. A few of the attendees are returning from the costume party in last year’s “April Fool”, including Big Hat & Suspenders Guy, Cowboy with Giant Hat, Pointy Nose Devil and Racy Female Superhero.

April interviews McDonald Crump, who presumably for legal reasons doesn’t resemble his real-world counterpart in any significant way beyond having weirdly tiny hands. When quizzed on why he holds such lavish parties, Crump explains it’s so he can tell everyone about his pizza restaurant operation. He then wanders off, leaving Vernon complaining – rightly, for once – that their news report ended up becoming a commercial. 

Raphael meets up with April and Vernon before almost immediately being embraced by a young woman ostensibly wearing a salamander costume. She drags him off against his will, acting the entire time as if they’re old friends. (Vernon then makes a noise indicating that he’s about to say something before we jump to the next sequence – I suspect his comments were cut for time.)

The mystery woman encourages Raphael to use his invitation to get them both into the party, with the understanding that she’s attending as his date. Having pulled off this ruse, she kisses him on the cheek for his help and runs off.

Once the ship has set off, Raphael meets up with April and relays what just happened. Suspicious about the whole incident, he decides to investigate further. Along the way he encounters a guy in a Turtle suit who tears into him for ripping off his costume. Not much in the way of a pay-off for this in the present moment, but this guy will make a return appearance later.

Raphael sneaks onto the bridge, where he finds his mystery date tying up the captain and first mate. After being confronted, Raph has a ship wheel dropped on him that serves as a restraint. He escapes this by flexing until the wooden wheel crumbles, and dives on the salamander lady to stop her from adjusting the boat’s path. Pressed as to her true intentions, she reveals her name to be Mona Lisa, but before she can explain further, the ship begins rocking violently.

Raphael looks outside and is shocked to see a beam of light holding the ship in place. A submarine emerges next to it, and after we return from commercials Mona explains the sub is called the Kleptofoil. From it emerges Captain Filch, a skeevy fellow dressed like a straight-to-video version of Cobra Commander from GI Joe. Filch boards the captured ship and confronts McDonald Crump, revealing he’s issued ransom demands to “all the major newspapers”. Furious, Crump orders his guards to intervene, only for Filch to summon his mutant anemones – huge, sullen-looking monsters that quickly surround the attendees.

April watches from nearby, snatching the camera out of a cowering Vernon’s hands to capture the events for the news. Filch spots her and is pleased that these events are being recorded for the world to see; he warns the guests that if they defy him, they’ll be fed to the sharks.

Back on the bridge, Raphael admonishes Mona Lisa for her actions, accusing her of colluding with Captain Filch and working to steer the ship in the direction of his submarine. She protests her innocence and wishes the “real Ninja Turtles” were around to save the day. The conversation is interrupted by the sounds of the approaching mutant anemones. Raph and Mona work to free the crew and make their escape. After our heroes leave, Filch’s creatures capture the crew and tie them up once more.

Raphael and Mona navigate the ship before being cornered by more of the mutants, forcing them to dive into the surrounding waters. Impressed by Mona’s swimming ability, Raph reveals to her that he’s one of the real Ninja Turtles. Mona eagerly hugs him, insisting that she knew the team would arrive and rescue everyone.

Later, aboard the ship, April and Vernon meet up with Raphael. He introduces them to Mona, who reveals that she isn’t wearing a costume and is a real mutant. Mona attempts to kick off a flashback. Raphael, however, is the King of the Fourth Wall Break, and can’t allow this to occur without pointing out the narrative device at work.

Mona recounts her backstory: a physics major in college, she was on a field trip with friends when her boat was hijacked by Captain Filch. He took her captive aboard the Kleptofoil, intending to use her skills to aid him in his goal of world domination via hi-tech piracy. After playing along for some time, Mona secretly hatched a plan to destroy the lab by uh... smashing the whole place up with a single hammer. A burst pipe led to her being submerged in radioactive water, transforming her into a mutant salamander who’s now perpetually at odds with her former captor.

We’re kind of circumventing the standard Laws of Mutation rules here, given that this transformation doesn’t involve mutagen, so the whole “you turn into the last animal you were in contact with” bit isn’t an issue. This does, however, raise the question of why the radiation would turn Mona into a salamander at all. We’re not getting a satisfactory answer though, so let’s just continue.

Mona begins crying at the thought of being a “grotesque mutant”, and having failed to stop Filch. Raphael comforts her, but we can’t allow the show to be too moving or emotionally resonant for long, so things quickly move along. He attempts to call the other Turtles for assistance, but finds his Turtlecom is water-logged and no longer working. The group is soon discovered by one of the mutant anemones. Raph sends the creature overboard, and our heroes then begin working to assemble a plan: April will head to the radio room to contact the Turtles, Mona will work to shut off the forcefield and Raphael is tasked with creating a diversion. (A seasick Vernon stays behind, out of sight.)

Elsewhere, a captive McDonald Crump attempts to negotiate with Captain Filch, offering him money or shares in his pizza restaurant chain in exchange for freedom. Raphael intervenes, sporting a pirate hat as he swings in on a rope and confronts the villain before being surrounded by more mutant anemones. April is also found by the creatures, who drag her out of the radio room and present her to their boss. Upon learning of what transpired, Filch tells his hench-mutants to return her to the radio room, figuring her skills will prove useful.

In the Lair, Michaelangelo seems oddly spaced-out as he stares at a monster movie airing on TV. A newsflash cuts into the broadcast to inform viewers of the situation aboard Crump’s ship. Footage airs of April being held captive by two of Filch’s mutants (inexplicably, it’s daytime during the recording and they’re clearly standing on dry land). She explains that unless Filch receives two billion dollars immediately, all of the assembled guests will be made to walk the plank and will wind up being fed to the sharks. Naturally, the Turtles quickly head off to do their thing.

Having served her purpose, Filch goes on to make April begin her plank walk. Meanwhile, Mona reaches the room containing the forcefield generator. She uses her acrobatic skills to avoid the attacks of the mutant anemones, with one attempting to hurl a chair at her which ricochets, hitting and destroying the control panel.

April is saved at the last second by the arrival of the Turtles via their blimp, who are able to board the ship now that the forcefield has been stopped. The group unite with Raphael and Mona, working their way through Filch’s army of mutants and freeing the guests. Mona insists on attempting to destroy the Kleptofoil, despite Raphael’s concerns for her safety. As she charges off to do so Filch sends his remaining mutants after her, one of whom encounters the nasty guy in the Turtle costume from earlier. It seems like this is the moment where this blowhard should receive his come-uppance, but... no, him being mistaken for a Turtle and being mad again is as far as it goes.

Captain Filch begs for mercy from Raphael as he’s backed into a chair on the deck of the boat, suggesting they could rule the world as a duo. Raph obviously isn’t receptive to this idea and mocks him before Donatello stomps on the back of the chair, flinging the villain into the sea.

The Turtles watch from the deck as Filch’s submarine blows up. As the team set about freeing the crew of Crump’s ship, Raphael is insistent that Mona Lisa will be fine, but is quietly seen expressing more concern than he lets on.

Filch is hauled back aboard the ship and arrested. McDonald Crump shows his appreciation to the Turtles by offering to make all of them vice presidents of his pizza operation. Our heroes are eager to take him up on this opportunity and begin making changes, but their hopes are shot down when he adds that they should come see him in his office after taking off “those ridiculous costumes”.

The team returns to the Lair. Raphael is blue, figuring that he’ll never see Mona Lisa again. Like the rest of the team, he’s astonished as it’s revealed April found her and brought her to their home, with a giant stack of pizzas. Michaelangelo is thrilled at the opportunity to chow down as Leo and Donnie exchange some very strange glances.

It feels like we’re getting into a groove where the show is consistently delivering memorable, landmark episodes during this Saturday morning run, a huge step up from the inconsistent syndicated portion of season four where little of any real importance took place. This is a character spotlight adventure largely done right, giving Raphael a chance to shine and a new ally to work with while bookending the proceedings with appearances by the other Turtles. Structurally it might be a little too close to the previous week’s Raph episode – and I have no idea why the decision was made to have two shows built around the same member of the team air in such quick succession – but this is a minor gripe.

Captain Filch isn’t brilliant, and his near-silent mutant goons are particularly dull. Nevertheless, he’s a huge step up from generic mob boss Pinky McFingers last week. Unlike Pinky, Filch gets one go-around, as he joins the huge roster of debuting S4 characters who will never be seen or spoken of again.

In what must rank as one of the greatest blunders TMNT ever committed, Mona Lisa is also doomed to never return. This is a true head-scratcher given her immediate popularity with viewers, years before online fandom or the concept of shipping was even a thing. It’s a true shame, as she has a great design, strong voice work from Pat Musick, and her character has tremendous chemistry with Raphael. Mona’s backstory is... patchy, admittedly, but the concept of her waging a one-woman war against the man who held her captive is so strong that I can forgive any minor issues.  

Mona Lisa is also unique in her role as a heroic female character in the show who has parity with the Turtles as a crime fighter. The other recurring women that have appeared tend to serve different roles, whether that’s acting as a damsel in distress or moving the story along (April, Irma), a conflicted villain (Lotus Blossom) or... however you care to describe what Kala is there to be. (Bystander? Mikey’s love interest?) I’d go so far as to suggest Aunt Aggie outclassed all of these characters in terms of being someone who does what the Turtles do as well as they do. Mona, however, is surely more appealing to young viewers. It’s telling that she would receive an action figure in the TMNT line years after this episode aired, one of very few times Playmates stepped out of their comfort zone and added a female character to their range other than April.

Years later, Peter Laird would reveal that the original pitch for Mona Lisa was that she would be a female mutant Turtle. Both he and Kevin Eastman strongly objected to this idea, considering it “creatively bankrupt”, and as a result the change was made to the salamander mutation. In this instance I think introducing a different mutant character instead of yet another Turtle worked out in the show’s favour. The original idea would return some way down the road, however.

McDonald Crump is, to my knowledge, the first time our heroes have encountered a Donald Trump expy in any version of TMNT, but by no means the last. In fact, we’ll revisit this idea in the very next episode, "Slash - The Evil Turtle from Dimension X".

[koreyeet]

I had ideas this was impulsive sorry not sorry

Knuckles and Rouge’s twins

They are the last kids they’re having, no more. They always stick together and are known as the TNT duo.

Tique (nickname is Hood)

The more level-headed and tends to think outside of the box and is decently crafty with materials given to her, she isnt a genius compared to the other kids but she can make useful things in the moment. She even made the cloak she wears 24/7 along with other article of clothing some of her friends are seen to wear (she made Tage's outfit and she absolutely loves it).

-Her spines, face, and arms where tattooed by her dad

-self esteem issues

-Jealous by her oldest sister and twin so she just made a cape to form as wings

Tage - Hybrid

Strategist and more of the brains of the operation and is pretty proud of herself, being a hybrid, something that’s uncommon to see, she has the abilities of both parents so she can hit like a truck and fly as far as her energy gives. But alot of her actions are impulsive and yes they thought out (in the moment) other factors arent looked at that might lead to problems.

-will beat the shit out of you if you call Tique a porcupine

-not interested in her heritage, she tried

-knows facts better then common sense

-extrovert

Shadow and Zero/ Infinite’s son

At the moment, he is like 4 years old and acts like a puppy, sticking to his parents and siblings and constantly following them or hiding behind there legs. He's kind of like Max from max and ruby he doesn't talk much and when he does it's one word sentences and it's just to get something. He's literally a sick child what else do you expect.

His relationships with his siblings are positive compared to other times, Meg thinks he’s adorable and Seven likes having a younger sibling like the rest of her friends.

I'm stuck between his origin being the main project of trying to create a living weapon and Seven being the prototype but she emerged early and he just called it a day and kept Viper in suspended animation for like 15 years, Zero and Shadow wanting another kid, or Tails making him like Eggman without permission. Either way they have another kid that I'm gonna kill off.

-unlike Seven he is unstable and goes to the doctors pretty often, mostly due to him getting sick a lot (he’s been in and out of the hospital since he was born)

-if Viper grew up he would be pretty powerful and maybe a threat

-tiny fangs

-can’t use his powers because he would get extremely overwhelmed and his inhibitors could barely hold in the energy

-dies in some accident when he’s 6-7 and his parents aren’t allowed to mourn his death ✌️

[jjba-hell]

Hear me out right…

So some of us (definitely myself included) love La Squadra and their sexy villain selves but just hear me out…

They’re all Italian.

And if reader is even somewhat a local, and they’d have to have one hell of a will of their own…

I don’t know man all I can imagine is IF reader were a La Squadra member they’d be a menace to all of them. Like cussing under their breath as they clean up evidence and their eye starting to twitch as Sorbet and Gelato walk into the base covered in blood.

“Mary Magdalene, did you fuck each other in the blood?”

They’d of course pay reader no mind as they started tracking blood into the base. Every other member in the squad would see reader getting up from the couch, rolling up their sleeves and cracking their knuckles, with only Formaggio being the one to pull them back from starting a fist fight but that didn’t really stop them from yelling some misplaced anger at the poor guy.

“No no no no I’ve had it up to my tits with these fuckers! Who the fuck is gonna clean that? Who’s gonna keep the fucking neighbors quiet and whose gonna clean the-“

They suddenly straighten, eyes wide as realization sets in. “They took my fucking car!”

And maybe even hungover mornings with Prosci, tiredly adjusting the suspenders over his shoulders, cigarette hanging off his lips. It’s become almost habit to expect the morning paper scattered open on the kitchen table as reader’s already pored over any news that could link the squad to any shocking news in print- kill off any loose ends that are sitting in witness protection.

“We’re out of the regular coffee blend so I got into Illuso’s stash.” Was the first words they spoke as they set down the two cups of espresso, one for him and one for them (they don’t dare drink anything too “watered down” in front of the blonde)

And the two enjoy the Columbian blend as reader circles bits of news in black marker and Prosci brings the tin of biscotti for them both from the pantry, thinking back to the time they’d gotten so mad at him for dropping ash into one of the pans they were cooking in, that within a blink of an eye (granted from the open pantry) the tin was in their hand and being hurled at him as he ducked into the hallway- that’s where that dent was from.

Those that get in more hot water with them call reader ill-tempered and hot headed but Ris wouldn’t have kept them this long if that were the case. He’s seen them handle cops and civilians with so much suave and charisma, shielding his bloody hands behind a charming smile and sinister jokes that disarms people- a real Italian socialite if only the income would match.

Ris recalls a time when he was desperate to just disappear into the shadow of the alleyway during a hit but they’d had a pretty good grip on his wrist.

“There’s no use in hiding!” They hissed. “They saw us leave with him!”

‘Him’ being a mafia mole they needed to take care of but now lay in their shadows in the alleyway and the cops footsteps inching closer. At the time he deemed it a moment of panic when they reached their hand up to pull at his neck.

“Hide the blood in my coat if you must.” They whispered into his neck. And even though it took him a beat to understand what they were doing he was quick to play along, stuffing his bloodied right side into the big winter coat they were wearing and turning his head to a steely gazed reader as they waited for the footsteps to round the corner.

For just a moment Ris could smell the deep coffee aroma on their breath, their perfume/cologne making itself more apparent as the tip of their nose just barely bumped into his when the bumbling policemen would stumble upon the faux lovers in a moment of faux intimacy.

Ris was almost astonished at how sweetly they laughed as they turned their head back to look at the cops. “Scusi, scusi seniore- is there a problem?”

“Yes actually…”

Ris didn’t always understand how reader could be so cool as they opened the door to something so disastrous, he was almost ready to call up Metallica if they were to ask the wrong question.

“Where is Mr Corlione, we saw you three leave the restaurant together.”

A tight grip in Ris’s hands seemed to bring him back, only now noticing his bloody hand was interlaced with the reader’s behind their back.

“Oh, I called him and ourselves a cab while I was in the phone booth but Mr Corlione’s warned he was making last rounds to his side of town- we were going the other way so we decided to uhhh-“

Were they… feigning embarrassment for getting caught? “See him off.” Ris chuckled more to his own stupid joke than at reader’s feigned embarrassment. Reader only sealed the deal as they laughed him with, giving him a playful elbow in the ribs.

It was enough to throw the cops off their tracks and to the leader of La Squadra, there would be very few people he would turn to for quick thinking and perfectly dusted away footprints. But Ris would also be lying if he said he didn’t smell the scent of their shampoo in his sleep.

[owtenen]

I love the bad boys and how they tell everyone that they’re bad boys but end up coming across as trying to hard and i already have ideas to start I’m imagining them as going over the top with the bad boy image they what so they dress in over the top edgy bad boy clothes 

Joel street punk/rocker wearing a leather jacket with a lot of spikes and pockets also cool sunglasses “given” to him by bdubs which bdubs got from gems sun cult also baggy pants that are just jimmys that he unnecessarily knifed in front of him for fun saying it was for style 

Inspiration Danny from grease and Sam from Danny phantom 

Jimmy pastel goth/scene kid he dyed his hair neon blue because I saw a picture of him with blue hair and he asked Scott for the teal dye he wears fingerless gloves that he cut himself he’s very proud of that and skinny jeans which are just Joel’s but they don’t fit and on his fist are truly a absurd number of bracelets 

Inspiration Neighthan Rot from monster high and avril lavigne

Grian he chose Victorian goth/steam punk but he didn’t feel like going out of his way so he got some suspenders and a ruffled shirt also stole scars top hat and some inventor goggles he swiped from a hermit because there is no shortage of mad scientist types on hermit craft and he called it a day 

Inspiration Entrapta from she ra Ciel Phantomhive from black butler

YES! Adina you are a genius! I was actually just thinking of like a Bad Boys “street gang” au where they’re all just losers. Here are my thoughts

Joel:

Joel is the “leader” of the group. He gets no bitches and is arguably the stupidest one but he was popular in high school so he thinks he’s hot shit. He thinks having a soulmate is stupid so that’s why he divorced Etho episode 1. He leaches off of his parents for money because he’s “discovering his passion” and learning electric guitar. He’s in the process of convincing Jim and Grian to start a band with him.

Jimmy:

Definitely the smartest in the group, although this doesn’t mean much as they all have a collective IQ under 20. He went to church with his parents every sunday until he turned 18 and met Joel. He now he’s gone full “bad boy” and his parents are horrified. He tried to vape one time and almost threw up, and has never tried it since. He got A’s in high school but only because he thought he was going to be a lawyer, now he just sells used records at the local record shop and asks people politely to not smoke within 20 feet of the store.

Grian:

Grian is just…. along for the ride? He’s been street friends with both Jimmy and Joel separately because they all live in the same cul-de-sac. He was the “normal one” that just wanted to leave town after high school and never come back. Unfortunately, after a horrible semester away, he missed his mum thought there werent enough parties and moved back home. Since then, he’s joined the Bad Boys because he ghosted all of his other friends when he left, and goes to the community college up the road 3 times a week.

[nerdy-alto]

Curse you, AC/DC, Mormonism, and/or Laziness

(In honor of Twitter's continued death throes, I figured why not repost one of the favorite long-form things I've written.)

I listened to a lot of music growing up. As the oldest kid, most of what I listened to in my very early childhood was my parent’s music; Linda Ronstadt, Doobie Brothers, Barry Manilow and various classical composers. It was a mark of my growing independence when I got my parents cast-off hi fi systems and was able to find my own radio station to listen to. And boy, did I listen to it. When we ran out of Star Wars topics to cover during recess we talked music. My big favorites were Duran Duran, or at least any band that wore make-up and had keyboards. Beyond the obvious and well-documented prepubescent attraction to non-masculine dudes, what totally attracted me to certain songs was their utter incomprehensability.

Telegram force and ready I knew this was a big mistake There’s a fine line drawing my senses together And I think it’s about to break If I listen close I can hear them singers oh-oh-oh Voices in your body coming through on the radio-oh-oh The union of the snake is on the climb Moving up it’s gonna race it’s gonna break through the borderline

Seriously, wtf does this even mean? But it didn’t matter to me, because this wasn’t your ordinary, Barry Manilow type song about some girl named Mandy, or dead showgirls (1) – this was deep. And maybe I didn’t understand it now, but when I got older – maybe mature enough to have a boyfriend, or wear makeup, or have a boyfriend who wore makeup it would all become clear to me, and I would listen to these songs with a profound understanding. Yes, I’d surely cogitate, this is the Union of the Snake breaking through borderlines. Good thing I got that telegram force!  

I can hear your cries of protest now – But surely you weren’t an idiot, nerdycellist, why did you just accept that kind of nonsense? To which I reply, Why thank you, no, I was of course a very smart child (2) but those crucial years of cerebral cortex development were marred by Mormonism. (3) Among Mormonism’s many fine doctrines and articles and rules and crap is the concept of “the milk before the meat”. Both the History and Theology of Mormonism is sometimes less than salubrious (mountain meadows massacre), and frequently insanely wacky (Adam-God doctrine). Since Mormonism’s also big on converting people, they try and keep the crazy shit from the new recruits until they’re far enough entrenched in the cult that they’re willing to suspend disbelief. The official party-line is the analogy that a baby must first learn to drink milk before it can eat meat – too much too soon and you’ll puke, I guess. So I figured that I can’t smile without you was like how Jesus Loved You and the reflex being a lonely child waiting by the door was the idea that my husband would have lots of other wives with me in heaven.

 So I had a certain comfort level with not understanding stuff – hell, it may have been a superiority complex – and I listened to a lot of radio. Also kiddies, in those days there was no internet to look up song lyrics, so if you didn’t have the album, you didn’t have the liner notes which only sometimes had lyrics printing in them. I was quite willing to settle for my ear’s first guess when it came to songs.

 The last piece of the puzzle here is my laziness; this has always been the bane of my existence. I learned to read very early and with that came a certain amount of knowledge in other school-related pursuits.(4) One of those was spelling, which is a terrible subject for english speakers and learners – it doesn’t make any sense! They only way you can learn how to spell is to be exposed frequently to the word. The other is just by rote repetition. My 5th grade teacher, Mr. Coombs, a favorite mostly because he tried to keep up with important pop cultural references (5), had developed a great strategy for lazy smarty-pantses like myself, who would normally get incomplete marks on take-home spelling homework that I deemed pointless busywork – he gave us 10 minutes on Monday morning to review our list of 20 words, then gave us a pre-test. You only had to do your spelling homework on the words that you missed and then you had the real test on Friday. I hardly ever missed any words on the pre-test, and so was able to skip the bogus busywork. I also pretty much aced the Friday tests. (6)

 So let us combine these points into a final scenario: A Friday spelling test was always a nice way for me to usher in the weekend. I had aced the monday pre-test and not had to waste any time copying words out or using them in sentences. Mr. Coombs would always use them in a sentence anyway when calling out the test, which was good in this case, because I had been zoning out when he first pronounced the second to last word, but he used a song lyric to illustrate it! Rad!

 I put my pencil to paper…

 “… dirty deeds and their Dunderchief.”

 huh.

 I knitted my eyebrows. That was one of those words, like wah-lah, that I had only heard but never seen written down. And that was from a part of the song that I wouldn’t understand until I was emotionally prepared to deal with the consequences of the full knowledge of that song. I was just going to have to use the context clues of the lyrics to figure out how to spell it. Dirty deeds and their Dunderchief… like an Indian Chief, only because they were Dirty deeds (and not Indian Deeds), they had a Dunderchief. You know, like a dunderhead. Yes! Now “i” before “e”…

 This made sense to me. Or at least enough that I scribbled it out in enough time to catch the last word on the quiz. It is to his credit that when Robbie Elmer passed back my corrected spelling test that he didn’t circle the word and write “stupid” or “what is this supposed to mean, idiot?”, but the big red (X) next to #19 was enough to shame me into blushing furiously while considering not turning in the paper at all so Mr. Coombs would never know that I mistook “Cheap” for a made up concept of a Leader of Dirty People.

Also, please note that any spelling mistakes in this essay were left in deliberately, as an excercise for the reader.

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Footnotes:

1. Holy crap, do I love this song. Also Manilow, but had to be closeted about that back in the day.

2. So smart in fact that I was used as a lab rat for some UofU grad students for their dissertation of kids who can pronounce all the words in Tolstoy but don’t really understand it, or doing stuff with mealworms or something. All I know is I got out of class for like an hour on the days I didn’t get out for orchestra practice! Score!

3. Man, is there anything that can’t be blamed on Mormons?

4. Manifested itself in Kindergarten, when I zoned out during reading because I was already done with Dick and Jane, and then zoned back in during math with the shock that I couldn’t make a 5.

5. He also brought his guitar sometimes and taught us Ghost Riders In The Sky – or was it Ghost Riders in Disguise? Also he demonstrated important scientific concepts by taking us out in his cessna two at a time to do barrel rolls and shit.

6. OK, I think I’m done bragging about my own clerverness now. But I will leave you with one final piece of evidence to my own brilliance – I was so smart I repeated 8th grade!