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thetrashbagswasteland · 1 year

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Ten Random Lines Tag

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics/writing projects, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag people (ten if you want to follow the theme).

Tagged by @korblez and @wintersstreams (ty!)

Tagging @otemporanerys @equusgirl @drumsandwaves and ofc anyone else who wants to play along!

I'm cheating of course bc I'm allergic to writing decent sentences so:

The Seasick Pirate (Aka: Sunseeker!Kaidan's adventures in space) “This is The Waterloo, please state your name and business, we mean you no harm. I assure you we mean you no harm.” He repeated in desperation. Static answered them and, as he thought the strange spaceship was about to ram right the way through them, suddenly, there was a change in the static. “-aterooo?” Hissed a voice.

Wipe My Hands Clean - Chapter 9: The Noose Around Your Neck (Aka: Beating Sunseeker!Avitus with a baseball bat) “Then I’d say that’s not justice.” She folded her arms across her chest, letting the accusation weigh. “But besides that, I’m not willing to let the reapers claim another life. There has to come a point where they stop getting to win.”

Beyond Familiar Stars - Chapter 8: 2828 part 3, Relapse (Aka: Beating regular Avitus with the baseball bat) Did he? Did he really want to entertain that suspicion? Avitus would have liked to say that, no, he didn’t. That he knew his people were better than that but… shit. “If you’d been a month later arriving on Havarl…” He met Sara’s eyes, seeing tired resignation there and hoping she could read just the same in his. “I think you’d have found things you wouldn’t have liked.”

Follow My Lead - Chapter 4: Pleading With Powers Which Are Not Real (Aka: Beating regular Castis with that baseball bat since we own it) “His loss is a just statistic.” He finished, hating that the synthetic was right, that he did feel better for talking. “There are millions of his kind, living and dying just as he did. Billions, across every organic race, I imagine. Good people, excellent soldiers regardless of their convictions and upbringings, who will die because an uncaring force we cannot stop demands they do. I will remember Fario for the rest of my life. My daughter too, I suspect. After us though, he will be forgotten, like the rest of his kind. But when the dust settles and our ashes are blown to the wind, who will remember us all?” The hoard let him talk himself into silence, strange, glowing lights focused on him just as a living creatures eyes might. But… it was alive. They were alive, regardless of how uncomfortable that fact made him. “We will.” They said, at last. “We do not forget important data. So we will remember everyone.”

Take The Very Best Of Me (Aka: The baseball bat is hanging over Avitus' head but we haven't hit him much yet) “I’m well aware some people will think I let him stick his dick in me so he lets me talk back without consequences because that’s exactly why I did it.” His eyes were distant, glazed over with some thought he wasn’t quite willing to voice. “That doesn’t answer my question though; does it bother you personally?” It was none of his business what he got up to. Not in the slightest. But… “It does.” His mouth said, even as he’d been trying to formulate a negative response to that question.

A Little Too Much Like Me (Aka: The spectres/C-sec teambuilding paintball-playing no-reapers AU that's occupied the best half of my brain for a month now) Shepard hummed indecisively, tilting her head to one side. “Technically no. The competition isn’t over.” Ah crap. “Shepard, honey…” Garrus met her eyes, equal parts teasing and pleading — just how she liked it best. “Would you really shoot me?”

Untitled (Pre-Andromeda BFS companion piece which needs a name and a plot because it's just dialogue atm) Now he’d had time to cool off, he was doubtless worried sick about the brat. For all that Garrus had been a constant source of frustration and concern to him, Castis had still adored his son and would have done anything for him if he only asked. He likely wasn’t coping well with any part of this. “You want me to find him, don’t you?” He sighed, wishing it wasn’t so plainly what she was after. “I know you have resources at your disposition which we don’t…” She hesitated. “He doesn’t know I’ve contacted you, nor do I intend to tell him unless you want me to.” For the first time, Macen spoke, shifting uncomfortably beside him as he clearly guessed just where his thoughts were headed. “Avi…” Yeah, yeah, he knew just what he meant. Avitus cut off whatever he’d been about to come out with with a gentle headbutt and a growl to shut up before he looked back to the comms screen. “I’m sorry, Rems, I’m no longer any of that. Resigned after they tried to make me drag Saren's memory through muck to sate the damned media. I... probably don’t have much more going for me than you do right now.”

Wipe My Hands Clean - Chapter 8: The Fools Morals (Aka: Also hitting Sunseeker!Macen with a baseball bat whilst it's in hand) The old turians expression was calculating, as if this were an abstract puzzle and not a life they were talking about. “Will you commit treason for a dead man, Captain Barro?” For Avitus? He’d do it in a heartbeat and he wouldn’t regret it. Well there was a realisation. It’d been so easy, up until that point.

A Little Too Much Like Me (again) “Sounds liberating.” Garrus felt safe admitting that much. “I don’t want to get her in trouble either but… is it egotistical that I don’t want to be my dad?” “You mean you don’t want to be sixty-three and stuck in a dead-end job with no hope of promotion because Venari Pallin knows you play house with the enemy?” Rix snorted, then looked away from him. “It’s a dream, kid, and you’ll see that eventually.” “It doesn’t look like a dream come true.” He looked down the scope once more to avoid showing how uncomfortable this conversation was rapidly becoming, as if he hadn’t been the one to make it that way.

Follow My Lead - Chapter 6: Recover Our Pride (Aka: We're here, so let's also use the baseball bat on Daddy Ryder's memory) “Ryder’s pet project?” Shepard, of all people, said, frown evident. “They made it out in time?” “I believe so.” He suddenly wondered just why the name was familiar to her. “Did you know the admiral?” “Nope.” The last syllable was pronounced with far too much disgust. “Nobody knew admiral Ryder, Castis, he never existed, legally.” That… What? “I can assure you Alec did exist.” He pointed out, trying not to be uncomfortable with that after everything. “The alliance erased every record of his career.” She said flippantly. “They were pissed after the council found out about their AI experiment on Luna, especially since it brought to light his private-sector work. So they drop-kicked him back to nowhere, stripped him of his N-designation and then gave him a dishonourable discharge to really rub salt in his wounds.”

#tag game #ten random line tag

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kingexpl0sionmurder · 3 years

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Mutual Misunderstandings - Kirishima Eijirou - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / F!Reader Rating: 18+ (Contains smut) Words: 5,866 Warnings: Quirkless AU, Aged up characters (they adulty adults!), unprotected vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), very very light choking, reader has a bit of a size kink. AN: Another entry for the BNHAREM collab! This time we’re writing roommates, and I somehow managed to snag Kirishima! I’m super excited for all of the fics coming this time around, so make sure you click on the link below and read some of the other submissions!

This is my first time writing Kirishima and I’m super nervous about it. I’ve always really loved him because he’s just the best boy and he’s so brave and strong and gentle and I just want to cuddle him into oblivion. I also firmly believe he’s going to be a huge tank of a man when he gets older and I’m going with that vision of him here.

Collab Masterlist is HERE My Masterlist is HERE Buy me a KoFi if you’re feeling froggy HERE

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You stood in your living room, your jaw hanging open, staring at him in shock. Kirishima had a similar look on his face, the two of you pointing at each other like that Spider-Man meme.

“You mean to tell me you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” You finally choked out, blinking owlishly at your best friend and roommate. “I thought you liked Mina!”

Kirishima sputtered, shaking his head. “No way! She’s my friend, we’ve known each other since middle school, you know that.” He moved to cross his arms across his broad chest. “And anyway, there’s no way you like me, you have a crush on Bakugou!”

There was no way this was happening right now. “No! I don’t like Bakugou like that! He’s a pain in my fucking ass, and I think about murdering him on a daily basis.” Facepalming, you groaned. “Are we really this stupid?”

How did you end up here?

It started back in your first year of college.

The parties and the seemingly endless studying had become a comfortable routine for you. So what if you were sleep-deprived and living on cup noodles? You were getting your higher education and ready to tackle the real world head-on in just a few short years.

A pipe dream, but still.

You had your best friend Shinsou by your side and a customer loyalty card at the campus coffee shop and everything was right with the world. You’d even managed to get paired up with Hitoshi’s (sort of) boyfriend for an English project, which was a better outcome than what you could have hoped for, not having to work with some rando on something that would be a large chunk of your grade.

Kaminari had suggested that you work on it at his place with the promise of Doritos, and you agreed. Who were you to turn down snacks? Poor college students needed those cheese dusted carbs to survive.

The Upsilon Alpha fraternity was one of the best and most popular on campus, and at first, you found it almost laughable that Kaminari was a member. At first glance, he seemed like a total space cadet stoner who didn’t belong in college, much less as a member of such an esteemed frat. However, after getting to know him, you knew that he was most definitely all of those things, but he was also insanely smart when it counted and kept above average grades in his classes (except for math, but with him being a bisexual disaster human, it came with the territory).

You had made some decent progress on your project after about an hour. The outline was done, and you were discussing how you would be presenting it since you had a choice between a written essay or a PowerPoint presentation.

Without warning, the kitchen door flew open, the doorknob slamming into the wall behind it.

“Well, the quiet was nice while it lasted, huh?” Kaminari blinked, completely unfazed by the commotion, leaning back in his chair and eating a chip.

Your gaze flitted over to the man who was glaring at the two of you from the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets. Blonde hair that looked so much like an explosion was sticking up in every direction on his head, and you felt his red eyes trained on you as he took in the room. “What are you doing, Dunceface?”

Kaminari didn’t answer right away, raising his eyebrow and grinning at the new arrival. “Hey, Kacchan.”

If the bulging vein in the man’s forehead was any indication, Kaminari had said the wrong thing. He opened his mouth, and you assumed it was to threaten your project partner, but he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder from behind.

“Bakubro, be nice. Kami has company.”

The man that appeared beyond the angry pomeranian took your breath away. He was...big. Like, his shoulders were so wide you wondered how he was going to fit through the doorway. And he was tall, with spiked red hair making him look even taller, big red eyes and sharp teeth, and the most beautiful smile you’d ever laid eyes on.

Blonde and grumpy grumbled, moving aside to let giant and red into the room, who then turned that megawatt million-dollar smile on you, and you tried your best not to stare at his biceps or the way his shirt clung to his chest.

Was it hot in here all of a sudden?

“Hi! I’m Kirishima, and this ray of sunshine is Bakugou, we’re some of Kaminari’s frat brothers!” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you smiled up at him, taking his giant hand in yours. The size of his fingers sent your brain reeling, and you knew you needed to get yourself under control before you started moaning out loud in front of him.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you! Kami and I are just working on an English project.” You explained, grinning back up at him, trying to keep the lust off of your face. You didn’t want to look like some kind of freak.

He took his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, you must be Shinsou’s friend! Kami told us you’d be coming over, I forgot about that.” He turned, watching as Bakugou slunk over to the fridge and opened the door. “Don’t let us bother you, we’re just grabbing some water before we head to the gym.”

Kaminari snorted. “Dude, if you get any beefier we’re going to need to remodel the doors so you can fit through them.”

Kirishima turned as red as his hair, glancing at you, before he grinned at his friend. “If I stop, no one will be able to bench press you and Sero at the same time at the next party.”

“Bro, that is my favorite party trick of yours.” He sat up straighter, looking forlorn at the thought of it not happening anymore. “Okay, fine, go to the gym.”

Bakugou grumbled from behind him something that sounded like “I could bench press four of you if I wanted to.”

“Of course you could, buddy.” Kirishima slung his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder. “Okay, we’re out of here. It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Good luck with your project!”

Bakugou grunted and shoved a water bottle at Kirishima, shrugging out from under his arm and leaving the room. Kirishima smiled at you when you said goodbye, hurrying after his sour-faced friend and leaving you and Kaminari to your work.

“Your housemates are...interesting.” You managed, still trying to wrap your head around the red-haired man.

Kaminari snorted. “Kirishima is the walking definition of sunshine, and Bakugou is...well, he takes some getting used to. But he’s not a bad guy.”

You just hummed, chewing on your pen absently. “Can he actually bench press you?”

“Fuck yeah. He does it one-handed. You should come to our next party and see for yourself.”

Keeping your face as neutral as possible, you nodded. “Maybe I can convince Shinsou to come with me.” Wiggling your eyebrows at Kaminari when he blushed, you turned back to the notebook that lay open in front of you. “Come on, let’s figure this out so we can talk more about your intentions with my best friend.”

You did show up to the next UA frat party, Shinsou in tow. Your purple-haired bestie was grumbling the whole way, his hands shoved in his pockets. It didn’t stop him from making fun of how short your skirt was and teasing you about how you’d done nothing but talk about Kirishima since the day you’d met him.

“He’s like Clifford the Big Red Dog, Y/N. Clumsy and adorable.”

“He’s definitely big. I’d like to climb him like a tree.” You linked your arm with his, walking up to the giant house, the windows already rattling with the bass pumping through the speakers inside.

“You’re disgusting. I am appalled and also proud to call you my best friend.” Sarcastic as usual, he let you drag him along without a fuss.

“That sounds about right.”

The party was in full swing, half the campus milling around inside the house with red plastic cups in hand. You found Kaminari almost immediately, shoving Shinsou towards him and making your way to the kitchen to find yourself a drink.

“Y/N!” Kirishima was in front of you almost immediately, giant cat eyes and his shark tooth smile lighting up the room. “Kami mentioned you might show up!”

Blushing, you nodded, suddenly losing the ability to form words. He was wearing a tank top, his arm muscles on display, and you took a moment to thank the Lord for the blessing before you.

“You want a drink?”

You realized you were staring, so you cleared your throat and smiled at him. “Yes, please.”

His large hand wrapped around your elbow gently as he tugged you through the crowd in the kitchen and out towards the back porch. You tried not to think about how your skin was burning under his touch. You needed to get a grip.

He got to work on the keg, pumping the handle on the top and grabbing you a cup, tilting it a bit as he filled it with beer.

“Hey, shitty hair! Beer pong!” You turned to see Bakugou standing on the other side of the large wooden deck, his arm resting on the shoulder of a tall and lanky brown-haired boy. “Sero here wants to break up the dream team! Find a partner!”

Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, hang on!” He turned to you, handing you your drink. “So, you play beer pong?”

Bringing the cup to your lips, you tilted your head back and chugged your beer, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand when you’d finished. Kirishima was staring at you with wide eyes, looking surprised but pleased. “Yeah. I’m better when I’m drunk, though.”

He held out his hand for the empty cup, moving to fill it up again, his grin never faltering. “Let’s go kick their asses.”

That was the beginning of your friendship with Kirishima. What had started as a crush on the red-haired man had turned into a companionship that you couldn’t ever see yourself without. That was why you never said a word about how you really felt.

As cliché as it was, you didn’t know how you’d survived without the guy. He was nothing short of amazing. He was a great listener, and he gave good advice. He was always there when you needed him, bringing you soup when you were sick, going on late-night snack runs when you were up all night studying for exams, showing up with chocolate and tampons when it was your time of the month.

Shinsou had always done those things for you, but he was spending a lot of time with his boyfriend now. You weren’t upset about it though, you thought they were the cutest and you didn’t want to third wheel their time together, so you hung out with Kirishima and Bakugou a lot more often.

As Kaminari had told you on that first day, Bakugou truly wasn’t a bad guy. His attitude got on your nerves though, and you envisioned punching him in the face at least four times a day, but you didn’t dislike him. He and Kirishima were best friends, so he was a part of the package, and you learned to deal with him.

So it was a no-brainer when Kirishima and Bakugou approached you and asked if you wanted to get an apartment with them once you’d graduated. With the three of you living together, you were able to afford a nicer apartment than you’d ever dreamed of having that was in a central location and only a few train stops away from where your respective jobs were located.

Things were going well, and you’d done a decent job of keeping your true feelings for Kirishima to yourself. It helped that he’d never dated anyone, and you were free to lust after him quietly, under the impression that no one had caught on to how you really felt, perfectly content to continue as you had been since the day you’d met him.

The only wrench in your plans of quiet pining was Mina Ashido.

Mina was awesome, and you loved her to pieces. She was one of the only other females in your friend group and had been around since you’d gotten closer to the boys in the frat that first year of college. She was the perfect person to go to when you needed some self-care nights, always down to put on a face mask and paint your nails, and she was the best shopping partner.

However, you were thoroughly convinced that Kirishima liked her.

You’d noticed, as far back as your freshman year, how they always gravitated towards each other in social settings. Mina was always one of the last ones to leave when you went out back then, always the one Kirishima threw his arm around when you walked back to campus from the bar.

It was part of the reason you’d become close with Bakugou in the first place. Whenever Kiri was with Mina, you always sidled up to the explosive blonde, teasing him to distract yourself from the way your heart was squeezing in your chest.

Neither of them had ever mentioned having more than just a platonic, friendly relationship with each other, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got whenever you saw them together.

It’s called jealousy, you idiot.

You had nothing to be jealous about though. Kirishima was your friend, and that’s all he would ever be.

Things had been going well, at least that’s what you’d thought. And then this morning had happened.

It was Saturday, which was your normal grocery shopping day. You and Bakugou had taken on the burden of shopping for groceries for the apartment. You’d allowed Kirishima to go once and he came home with more junk food than should be allowed in one cart, and half of the things on the list you’d given him missing, and more protein powder than should be legally allowed.

Bakugou had worked out a system and your grocery shopping trips were like a well-oiled machine that took no longer than an hour out of your day, and you were grateful for your grumpy friend and his penchant for being overly organized.

You finished getting dressed, ready to get this over with so you could use the rest of the day to play video games and be generally lazy. Walking into the living room, you stopped in your tracks to see your roommates glaring at each other, which was normal for one of them, and uncharacteristic for the other.

“Everything okay?” Your eyes darted between the two men, taking in Kirishima’s stiff posture and clenched jaw.

“Fine. I’m going shopping alone today.” Bakugou grunted, turning away from his best friend.

Puzzled, you frowned. “What? Why?”

Bakugou stopped in the doorway, turning to face the both of you, looking thoroughly fed up. He lifted his hand and pointed. “The two of you are making me want to commit myself. I’ve been dealing with this shit for years, and it ends today. You’re in love with each other. Figure your shit out and fuck already. I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

You gaped after him as he turned again, giving you both the middle finger over his shoulder as he left, the door slamming shut behind him.

And that brings us up to speed.

“Are we really this stupid?” You asked, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back.

Kirishima sighed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Since when?”

Snorting, you flopped down on the couch, rubbing at your face tiredly. “Truthfully? Since the moment we met.” You guessed the cat was out of the bag, so you might as well tell him everything. “In the kitchen at the frat house.”

“When you came over to work on that project with Denki?” His eyebrows furrowed, an adorably confused look on his face. “Are you telling me I’ve been pushing you at Bakugou for nearly 5 years for no reason?”

“Yeah, you could stop doing that at any time and I would appreciate it. Unless you want me to strangle him to death.”

Kirishima flopped down on the other end of the couch, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’ve liked you just as long, you know? I saw you sitting in our kitchen and I thought I was going to throw up.”

“If that was supposed to make me feel good about myself then you’ve failed miserably.”

“No! I just mean, the butterflies-” He groaned. “Shut up and let me get this out okay?”

Smirking at him, you turned your body, leaning against the back of the couch. “Okay, sorry, keep going.”

Taking a deep breath, he continued, red eyes trained on your face. “Do you remember the frat party?”

“Which one?”

“That first one, when you chugged that beer in front of me and then helped me kick Bakugou’s ass at beer pong?” He waited for you to nod before he spoke again. “I’d never felt so enamored with anyone in my entire life.” Kirishima let his gaze fall to his hands. “You were so awesome and funny and beautiful and you kept up with my friends and their dumbass antics like a pro and I just...I couldn’t believe you were real. I just kept telling myself that you would never be into someone like me, so I decided that if we could be friends for life then that would be enough.”

“Ei…” You trailed off, frowning. You’d always known he tended to get down on himself. You and Bakugou had done your best to convince him he was worth much more than he let himself believe, but sometimes he needed a reminder.

“I know, I know. I don’t feel that way anymore, but at the time I did.” His hair was down, tied back in a loose bun, bits of his fringe falling in his eyes. He pushed a piece of it behind his ear and kept going. “So I tried to keep my distance, kept on hanging around with Mina, tried not to think about how much I wanted to be with you. She kept telling me I needed to tell you, kept rubbing it in that I wasn’t being manly about it. But you were hanging out with Bakugou so much I just figured you liked him and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall forward. “I was hanging out with Bakugou because I couldn’t stand seeing you with Mina so much. I was jealous.” Realization hit, and your eyes snapped open. “Mina knew?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one I told.”

“All those times we hung out and she never said a word.” Chuckling, you shook your head. “I told Shinsou. It’s like the only secret he’s ever kept from Kaminari. I threatened to mutilate him beyond all recognition if he mentioned a word to anyone.” You grinned sheepishly at him.

Kirishima huffed a laugh. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Bakugou. Your threats are just as creative as his.”

“Speaking of, I guess he figured it out on his own then.”

Humming, he shrugged. “He was always the smartest one out of all of us.” He looked over at you again. “So, now it’s your turn.”

Raising an eyebrow, you blinked at him. “For what? A heartfelt confession?”

“It’s only fair. I told you how I felt. What did you think when you first met me?”

You felt your ears get hot. “Do you want the truth? Because it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Shifting himself on the couch, he leaned against the arm, tanned forearms resting on his knees. “Oh, this should be good.” He teased, grinning.

“Shut up.” You sighed, preparing yourself for his reaction. “When you walked into the kitchen that day, my first thoughts were...uh...pretty dirty. Like X rated.”

Eyes wide, he stared at you. “Really? How dirty are we talking here?”

You covered your face with your hands, mumbling your answer behind them.

“Sorry, what was that?” He was fucking with you again, you could hear the smirk in his voice, and you were tempted to smack him with a throw pillow.

Taking a deep breath, you moved your hands from your face, looking him right in the eye. “I said, I wanted you to step on me.”

Sputtering, he blinked a few times. “What?”

“I mean, you were this...tank, Eijirou. Like this giant man with gorgeous eyes and a killer smile, with the personality of fucking sunshine and you had these big hands and I wanted you to wrap them around my throat and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, seriously?” His cheeks were as red as his hair, his hands flailing as he stopped your tirade. “You wanted me to…?

Nodding solemnly, you looked him dead in the eyes. “Yes, and I’ve thought about that like every day since then.”

“I am learning things about you today that I never even imagined.” Blowing a breath out he slumped back, looking shook.

You hurried on, wanting him to know it was more than that. “I mean, after that I got to know you and I love everything about you, Ei. I just, you’re such a good person, better than I could ever be. You care about everyone and you’re always there for me, for all of us, whenever we need you. You’re strong and funny and brave. I always know that I can rely on you.” Sniffling, you couldn’t help the emotions bubbling to the surface.

“But you also want me to step on you.” He was grinning, his eyes a little wet, too.

Wiping at your eyes with your fingers, you chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”

Sighing, he leaned forward, grabbing your arm and tugging. “Come here.”

Crawling across the couch, you laid down between his parted legs, your head resting on his chest. He wrapped his giant arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“Now what?” You asked, realizing you were afraid of the answer. What happened now?

He hummed, and you heard the sound vibrate through his chest. “I was going to suggest a nap, but now I keep thinking about what you said…”

You lifted up to ask what he meant, shifting your body and freezing when you felt something hard brush against your thigh. Eyes meeting his, you bit your lip at the look on his face, feeling a blush creep over your face and down your neck. “Yeah?”

“I figured we can do things out of order a little bit, right? I’m going to take you on a real date and court you properly, like a gentleman and all that, but right now all I can think about is, well…” He sat up, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you like it was nothing, until you were sitting properly on his lap, straddling his hips. When he was satisfied, his hand moved to your throat, putting the smallest amount of pressure on the sides of your neck with his calloused fingertips.

The moan that tore from your throat was low and quiet, but he heard it, muttering a curse under his breath as you became nearly boneless in his lap. “Eijriou.” You managed, licking your lips and gazing at him through half-closed eyes, your blood pounding in your ears.

It was ridiculous how turned on you were in that moment, and he’d barely done a thing. You felt his cock twitch beneath you, and you couldn’t help but grind down on him, the small amount of friction making you shiver.

Suddenly he was guiding you towards him, your noses bumping and breath mingling as he held you in place, his lips just out of your reach. “You don’t know how much I’ve always wanted you, Y/N.”

Letting your eyes slide closed, you ran your hands up his muscled arms and rested them on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. You were tired of waiting, of keeping yourself from what you wanted. “Show me.”

If you were to die right here on this couch it would have all been worth it. The feeling of his lips on yours, the way he ran his thumb lightly over your throat as he kissed you, had your eyes rolling back in their sockets. You couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, of the feeling of his hard body beneath your fingertips. He was careful with his sharp teeth, tugging at your bottom lip lightly, your tongues sliding together as he rolled his hips against yours.

You pulled back for air finally, taking in his kiss bruised lips and dilated pupils. Reaching down, you tore your shirt over your head, tossing it across the room, never breaking eye contact. You watched his gaze fall to your heaving chest as he worried at his bottom lip for a moment, obviously lost in thought.

Before you could ask him what he was thinking about, he’d shifted again so that his feet were on the floor. Kirishima lifted you off his lap and put you on your feet in front of him, hands moving to your waist, fingers slipping into the elastic of the leggings you were wearing. He pressed his face to your bare stomach, kissing your skin as he worked your pants down your thighs, slipping them past your knees. You played with his hair, moaning softly as he kissed along your hip.

When he sat back you stepped out of your leggings, feeling exposed. You forgot how to be awkward when he was looking at you like that, hungry and wanting. Stepping forward, you pouted. “Why am I the only one half-naked?”

Chuckling, he pulled his shirt off, and you sucked in a breath, trying to wrap your head around the fact that this man, with a chiseled and perfect body like a Greek god, wanted you.

You didn’t even have time to admire him, because he was moving again, pulling you closer by your thighs, sharp teeth hooking into the front of your panties and dragging them down. Tugging the tie out of his hair, you slid it on your wrist, letting your fingers card through his red locks. He let his hands do the rest of the work until the offending garment was tangled around your ankles.

Pushing him away gently, you watched him settle back on the couch, red eyes gazing at you as you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor, finally fully exposed to him. Kirishima sucked in a breath, blinking a few times in disbelief. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

You kicked your panties to the side, moving to kneel in front of him, reaching up to grasp the top of his grey sweats, mouth-watering when you started to tug them down. Kirishima was huge everywhere else, so the size of his cock was of no surprise to you. He was massive, long, and girthy, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

Rubbing your thighs together for some relief, you left his sweats around his ankles, leaning forward and grasping his cock in your hand. It was almost comical how small your hands looked compared to it. Your eyes locked with his as you licked a long stripe up the shaft, tracing along the prominent vein on the underside, and lapping at the precum dripping from the head.

Kirishima’s head fell back to rest on the cushion behind him, his fingers tangling in your hair as you took him into your mouth. Your jaw ached almost immediately as you did your best to swallow all of him down, willing your throat to relax. You’d spent so long thinking about how he would taste and sound as you sucked his soul out through his dick, you were going to make the most out of this moment.

His breathy pants filled the room, along with the obscene slurping sounds of your mouth around his cock. Gripping your hair and tugging lightly, you could tell he was holding back, his thighs shaking with the effort to keep from fucking up into your face. You pulled off, opening your mouth to let him know he could wreck you however he wanted, but he had other plans.

“Come up here, baby.”

The pet name sent shivers through you as you stood up, straddling his lap, his cock pressed up against his stomach. His thumb brushed over your lips, wiping away the spit and pre that spilled down your chin. Cradling your face in his large palm, he pulled you forward and kissed you deeply, his free hand sliding between your bodies. Thick fingers parted your folds, and you lifted up on your knees to give him better access. You moaned into his mouth as he brushed over your clit, gathering the dripping wetness of your cunt along his digits and sliding one finger inside your hole.

You clenched around him, breaking the kiss and keening loudly, your hips involuntarily bucking against his hand. His finger pumped in and out, curling slightly and pressing against your inner walls, stretching you. Gripping your hip with his other hand, he kissed his way down your jaw to your neck and chest, tongue flicking out over your nipple, hot breath ghosting over your skin with a chuckle when you grabbed his head and pulled him towards you.

One finger turned to two and then three as you rocked and mewled in pleasure, his thumb finding your clit again and pressing against the bundle of nerves, whispered praises reaching your ears as he sucked and bit at your breasts. You were on the edge, wanting to fall over and drown in him, needing to cum all over his fingers and then again on his cock, wanting nothing more than to feel this way forever.

“Ei I’m gonna…” You panted, unable to form the words.

Grunting, he moved his fingers faster, pressing his thumb in a little harder, his words of praise streaming steadily, telling you how good you were, how pretty you looked. Eyes rolling back, your body tensed, a moan in the sound of his name leaving your lips as you shook, cumming harder than you ever had in your life.

You were still clenching when he pulled his fingers out of you, his hand slick with release as he tugged on his cock and lined it up with your entrance, your body mourning the loss for mere seconds before he was filling you again. The slick glide of your arousal had you taking nearly all of him, the two of you groaning in tandem at the feeling. Gripping his shoulders, you lifted slightly, slamming your hips back down and taking him to the hilt. The stretch was just on the edge of painful, but his thick digits had stretched you just enough that the pleasure superseded any discomfort.

Still trying to gather yourself after your orgasm, you took a moment to breathe, studying his face, your gaze tracing over the scar on his eyelid, and his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks. An hour ago you never could have imagined you’d be here, panting shakily, drenched in sweat and skin to skin with your best friend and roommate.

Clenching around him, you held his shoulders, rocking forward and lifting yourself slightly. Kirishima gripped your hips, fucking up into you in a steady rhythm, his lips finding yours once again to swallow the panting moans leaving you. You bounced on his cock, relishing the feeling as he kissed down your neck, his fingertips digging into your flesh, sure to leave bruises for you to admire the next day.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it didn’t even matter. Just being this close to him, feeling him filling you so completely after wanting him for so long, it could have been minutes and you’d be happy. Knowing he felt for you as strongly as you felt for him was enough.

His fingers trailed along your front and dipped in between your bodies to rub your clit again, and you felt the pleasure race down your spine, coil tightening again and ready to break. “Oh fuck, Eijirou!”

Growling, he grunted your name as his hips snapped up to meet yours, chasing his release. “I love you, Y/N.”

His words tipped you over again, your breath catching as you came, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into you increasing as you gushed around him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, completely spent. You held onto him as he slammed into you a few more times, rhythm faltering and hips stuttering until he was filling you up with a loud groan.

Collapsing back onto the couch, he held you to his chest, the two of you gasping for air. It was quiet for a few minutes as he rubbed his palm along your back comfortingly. You felt relaxed and sated, a pleased smile making its way to your face when you thought about what he’d said.

“Hey, Ei?” You pulled back slightly to look at him, giggling when he peeked one eye open to gaze at you.

“You okay?”

“Mm. I just wanted to tell you that I love you, too.”

He looked sheepish, opening both eyes and biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to tell you like that. I wanted it to be romantic.”

“That was plenty romantic, Eijirou.” Rolling your eyes fondly, you shifted in his lap. “I’m just happy to hear you say it.”

“Man, we did this all wrong. I should have at least taken you to dinner first. This is so unmanly of me, I just couldn’t help it.” He frowned. “I’m sorry-”

“You’re too good sometimes, Ei. I’m not complaining, am I?” You raised an eyebrow. “We should go get cleaned up before Bakugou comes home and finds out we fucked on the couch.”

“Please don’t talk about Bakugou while you’re sitting on my dick.” He made a face that caused you to bust into gasping laughter.

“Oh my god, I can’t.” You wheezed. “You’re ridiculous.” You moved to get up and he stopped you.

With a serious look on his face, he pushed your hair away from your face, his hand lingering near your ear. “I do love you though, Y/N. And I’m glad we finally got here. I didn’t think we ever would.”

Expression softening, you leaned into his palm, smiling at him. “Me too.”

Maybe if you had just told him how you felt all those years ago, you would have been able to have this sooner. But you promised yourself that you wouldn’t dwell on the past, deciding to focus on the future, because you knew it would be filled with more moments with him just like this.

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #eijirou kirishima #eijiro kirishima #mha #mha x reader #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima eijiro smut #bnha smut #mha smut #eijirou kirishima smut #eijiro kirishima smut #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #bnharem collab

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griavian · 3 years

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the 36 questions that lead to love

x <- read on ao3

dream finds a list of questions that can supposedly lead to two people falling in love, so him and george try it out on stream. turns out, they don't really need all 36.

“Come on, George. It’s just a couple of questions.” Dream pleaded into the call, making George roll his eyes. He’s been trying to end stream for the past 15 minutes, but Dream always convinces him to go “just a little longer!”.

“36 questions is not just a couple of questions, Dream.” George glances at his second monitor to make sure his green screen was still black and to check a few discord messages. He had no intention to fall into Dream’s trap for another hour of streaming.

“But it says it’ll lead to love!” Dream says, exasperated. He googled ‘questions to ask your friend’ earlier and found a list of them that apparently lead to falling in love. To George, it was bullshit.

“That’s such bullshit.” He expresses.

“You’re no fun.” Dream’s voice lowered, and George can feel the pout Dream has plastered on his face. He can already predict what the next 12 hours would be like with Dream: silent treatment and being a general dickhead. George was used to it when they lived an ocean apart, and even found it amusing, but it was a totally different experience living with him. Dream would mope around, go into George’s room randomly just to not talk to him, and go as far as to blast sad music from his own room across the hall while George was trying to finish up some editing. Sure, it was all light-hearted jokes, and Dream would stop his act in a heartbeat if George was truly annoyed by it, but George still dreaded it.

“Fine.”

Dream immediately cheers up and starts typing on his keyboard while George watches his chat fly by, seeing a lot of emotes and positive messages.

“Okay, um- first question. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom,” Dream mocks the formality, “would you want as a dinner guest?”

George’s nose crinkles. “How is that gonna make me fall in love with you?”

“Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know! The queen?”

“That’s a stupid answer.”

“What!” George screeches and Dream barks out a laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

“You gotta give me a better answer than that, or else we won’t fall in love with each other.”

George rolls his eyes, but decides to think about his answer. Truthfully, he wouldn’t want anyone special as a dinner guest. “Um. My mum.”

George eyes his chat as it’s filled with “aw”s. He almost scoffs.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” George wants to punt Dream into another universe.

“Alright, who would you want as a guest?”

“Tom Brady.”

“That’s the stupidest answer ever!” George yells, his eyes wide, perhaps offended that Dream picked Tom Brady out of anyone else in the world.

“Question two!” Dream ignores, “This one is kinda dumb, but would you like to be famous and if you do, what for?”

George hums. “Probably don’t want to be famous-famous. Maybe being well-known for being the first person to invent IRL-VR. I want my body to be submerged in the Minecraft universe.”

“That’s sick. I dunno what I’d want-”

“You’re already famous.”

“Shut up. I don’t even- I don’t even want to be famous, really. I just want to make whoever knows me smile.”

“Aww, isn’t that sweet, Dream.” George teases and he knows Dream waved him off. George has his habits practically memorized.

“Whatever. How about you ask some questions?” Dream sends a link on discord and George reads through them.

“There’s no way these can make people fall in love. What even is this question? Before making a telephone call, do you rehearse what you’re going to say and why?”

“Trust the process. I mean, I do that. I don’t want my brain all jumbled up, I guess. Words are hard.” Dream answers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that. I wing it.”

“That’s very you. Next question.” Something about Dream saying that made George smile the tiniest bit, made the serotonin flow through his brain.

“What’s a ‘perfect day’ for you?” George reads. It’s quiet for a moment.

“Hanging out with you,” his voice is sincere, “You and Sapnap. Recording, streaming, anything like that. What about you?”

“Hm. Me too.”

George isn’t one to show his feelings often. He remembers being asked if he did, and he answered with “not ones that matter”. It still rings true to this day. His walls are still built up and that’s okay to George. Mushy feelings aren’t important, but he’d be damned if he didn’t say his heartstrings were playing a beautiful melody during this moment.

The questions and answers fall easily after that. George knows it’s around 1 am, and he should go to sleep, but answering the questions was kind of addicting.

“Do you have a hunch on how you’ll die?” Dream reads the question with a chuckle. “That’s such a weird question to ask someone you wanna fall in love with.”

George tries not to read in between the lines.

“Heart failure. For both of us.”

“You know how I’ll die?”

“We’re Minecraft streamers, Dream. We’ll probably die at 40.” They share jokes and giggles of scenarios where they die and what they’d do, and something about it feels a bit too honest.

“I’ll die the day you die, George. Emotionally and physically.” Dream says, dramatic as ever. George only huffs, and they leave it there.

“Name three things you and your partner have in common. Dream, do you have a secret girlfriend?” They start to bicker back and forth, because of course they do.

“It doesn’t mean romantic partner, you dumbass. Like- it’s like a science partner,” Dream sighs, “Well, we do have a lot in common. We have the same job, we care about the same things, and we love each other! Easy.” Dream answers.

“Who said I loved you?”

“You literally did last night.” George had closed chat a while ago, already prepared for what was to come. He can only imagine what they’re saying.

“They’ll never believe you.” George says with a sadistic grin.

“Ugh. Okay, what are you grateful for in life? You have to answer this.” George can hear Dream get a little closer to his mic, almost anticipating George’s answer. Dream knows how much he doesn’t like to express any feelings, and probably expects him to skip the question overall. George prevails.

“You. Obviously,” and before Dream can get out an aww, George says, “You made my career, dummy, and I’m grateful for that. And my friends, family, all the normal things. Chat! I’m even grateful for chat.”

“Well, I’m incredibly grateful for you especially.” Dream’s voice is soft, almost loving. George rolls his eyes. He could’ve guessed Dream’s answer, but it weirdly hurts him when it was spoken aloud. He doesn’t know whether it hurts because it might be a fun little joke or if it’s because someone might care about him that much. George decides to stop thinking.

They answer more questions, from taking four minutes to tell each other their life stories (“There was no reason to add that detail; you’re so gross, Dream.”) to what significant quality they would want to wake up and suddenly have (“You’re already good at code shit, George. That’s the saddest answer ever.”). They move onto section two of the list, which are deeper questions.

“Is there something you’ve dreamed of doing but haven’t yet, and why haven’t you?” George asks. He knows about Dream’s unfinished projects. There’s probably a million answers to the question, and George would listen to every single one.

“Uh, well. You know I was writing a book, yeah? I was halfway done with it, and I can’t make myself finish it. It’s probably writer’s block, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.” George frowned.

“You can’t finish it with that attitude, silly. You’re annoyingly amazing at everything.” George says with a snort, “I don’t have an answer to this. What did you say that one time? Your future is my future? Well, your dreams are my dreams, then.”

George cringes a little at what he said. He doesn’t know his viewer count, but knows that at least a million people will watch that clip out of context. Dream doesn’t say anything back and moves on to the next question.

“What is your most treasured memory?” Dream asks, and George immediately laughs.

“I definitely know your’s.”

“Do tell, George.”

“Our first Christmas together. Sapnap insisted on getting a real Christmas tree, and when we started decorating the stupid thing, Sapnap sees a spider and screeches. Then, our neighbors come knocking on the front door and you had to explain to them that nobody was being murdered, it was just your roommate being a big baby. And as if it could get any worse, I got tree-sap all on my fingers and clothes and you couldn’t help me because you were laughing too hard.”

“Pretty sure I almost choked on my own spit.” Dream adds, and George scoffs. “But no, that’s not my treasured memory.”

George sputters. “What? You’re telling me I told that to thousands of people for nothing?”

“To be fair, you were all soft on Christmas morning, so our first Christmas might be your treasured memory. Anyways, remember the first time you helped me with a code?” George stays silent, giving Dream the answer. “Well, that was the first time we had a real conversation. I made you laugh, then I started to laugh because you laughed, and we didn’t get the code done. It sounds dumb, but I always smile whenever I think about it.”

George’s face falters a bit. God, he just wants to hug Dream; he wants to make a beeline for his room and attack him with affection and make sure he knows that George loves him, platonically or romantically, George wants him to know.

He just can’t express it with words.

“That… sweet.” George’s eyes travel down the following questions and panics, seeing how personal the questions are. He fakes a yawn. “As mushy and stupid this thing is, I’m really tired.”

Dream doesn’t say anything. It almost scares George, but he deafens on Discord and bids farewell to his viewers, who were completely freaking out. George doesn’t blame them. He’s abruptly leaving after a sweet moment? That’s a recipe for disaster, and George knows better. Yet, he clicks the end stream button.

The door to his office swings open instantly and startles George. It was Sapnap, someone he didn’t particularly want to see.

“What the fuck was that?” His roommate whisper-yells.

George groans and slides deeper into his chair, covering his face. “I don’t know,” he muffles.

“Are you even trying to hide your feelings at this point?” He can hear Sapnap close the door and flop on his office’s couch. “You might as well buy a billboard that says ‘I’m in love with my best friend! His name is Clay!’ with a big ass picture of your dumb face beside it.”

“I know,” George whines. “Do you think he knows?”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about knowing. I’ve told you a million goddamn times that he’s too whipped to notice. I’m worried about the fans. They’re gonna go fucking bonkers because of this stream. Clips are gonna be shared. People are gonna speculate.”

George uncovers his face and narrows his eyes at his friend. “Thanks for the reassurance,” he deadpans.

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “I’m being serious, dude. I know you’re very deeply in love with him in the gayest of ways, but you gotta be careful in front of the fans.”

“Oh my God. I know, Sapnap! I know. I forgot we were even streaming. It felt like it was just the two of us, and I got too comfortable. And it was so nice. I can’t even do anything about it now, so it doesn’t even matter.”

Sapnap sighs and pulls himself from the couch. “You need to talk to him before this gets out of hand. You know I love ya, and that I’m here for you.” George cringes out of habit, but nods. It reads as ‘I love you too, I guess’.

Sapnap leaves without another word, and George is left alone with his thoughts. It’s not long before he sluggishly makes his way back to his bedroom. He opens the closed door, enters, and shuts it. He turns around, only to be greeted by a familiar person in his bed, and yelps.

Dream laughs. He’s wearing blue pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair looks messed with, and his cheeks seem to have more color to them. George can’t help but stare.

“Well? Aren’t we gonna finish it?”

George cocks an eyebrow.

“Finish what?”

“The questions, dummy. You don’t… you don’t have to. I mean, it’s kinda stupid that I want to do it in the first place, but…” Dream trails off. George hops on his bed and grins lightly.

“Go for it.”

They answer questions they skipped, like what is your most terrible memory (“My, uh, grandma. She died when I was about 14. It was… hard on me.” “Oh, George…”).

The overhead light was off at this point, the only light coming from a lamp on his desk and the stars shining through the window. The two are on their sides, Dream on the right of the bed and George on the left, facing each other, occasionally looking at their phones to ask the questions.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” Dream asks, his voice softer than ever. George can almost not answer. He doesn’t know.

“I’ve never been a super affectionate person, so I don’t know. I’ll give you guys quick hugs of course, but with really close relationships, I don’t know what to do.”

Dream looks as if he’s searching for something in George’s face, and George can’t tell what he’s looking for. His movements are hesitant, George sees.

“Do- um. You wanna maybe,” Dream pauses, closes his eyes,and scrunches up his face. “Try?”

“Try what?”

“Affection.” Dream lets out a breath and opens his eyes. “Affection is my strong suit, afterall.” His mouth forms into a teasing smirk despite his eyes showing nervousness.

“Um. Take the lead.”

It’s slow. So, very slow. Dream’s hand raises up and lands itself on the dip of George’s waist. He’s whispering instructions, and George listens. His hands are hung around Dream’s neck, and their legs are starting to tangle together. They laugh when they realize how far apart they are, and Dream pulls him closer. George can feel his heart beating out of his chest as he lays his head where Dream’s right shoulder meets his neck.

“Do you want me to ask the rest of the questions, sweetheart?” It sounded like a coo, and George is surprised at how effortless the pet name comes out of Dream’s mouth.

“Was that okay?” Dream whispers after a moment of George going still. He perks up.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Okay.” Dream pulls George closer and rests his left hand on his back. He starts rubbing up and down in slow motions.

George simply melts.

The questions and answers go by slower, and their voices become gentler. Dream announces that they’re on section three now, and to state three true “we” statements. Dream goes first.

“We… are cuddling?”

“Obviously, idiot.” George chuckles. “We are really tired?” Dream hums.

“We meant everything we’ve said tonight.”

“We are going to mean everything we say tonight.”

“You can’t just steal my answer.”

“Just do your third one.”

“We will be ‘Dream and George’ forever.”

Forever is a long, long time. And yet, Dream’s statement is still true.

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Very vague.”

“Next question, Dream.”

“Alright, alright. Complete this sentence: ‘I wish I had someone whom I could share…’”

Without a second thought, George replies, “My emotions with. Your turn.”

George swears he felt Dream squeeze him.

“My everything with. Every single little thing. Physical, metaphorical, emotional.”

“Even Patches?”

A laugh.

“Yes. Even Patches.”

“Next question.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them and be very honest.”

“Your voice. It’s like… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“Does it get you going, George?”

“Shut up. I definitely don’t like your smart-assery.” George can feel Dream lean down into George’s shoulder and smile. “I like how you act around people. It’s always different depending on the person. Different with me.”

“I like how you act around people too. You’re almost always bubbly, even though you like to say you aren’t. And, God, your laugh. It’s so overwhelming, but in the best way possible. You have no idea how many times I’ve said the stupidest shit just to hear your little laugh.” George digs his head deeper into Dream’s shoulder. “I also… really like it when you say my name. My real name.”

George raises slightly, gaining the tiniest bit of confidence. “Clay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that.”

“Clay,” George whispers.

“George.” Dream sounds weak. So, very weak. George gets closer to his ear.

“Clay.”

George can’t tell if he’s joking.

“You’re gonna kill me, George.”

George’s lips brush against the outer of Dream’s ear, and his friend shivers. He decides this isn’t a joke anymore. He thinks the invisible line they had drawn in the sand many years ago has been kicked and stomped on to the point where neither of them remembers the line being there. George goes further.

“Clay, Clay, Clay,” George is still whispering, slowly brushing his lips across Dream’s jaw, and the hands around his waist get the littlest bit tighter.

George finally raises his head to meet Dream, who was a mess. His cheeks are glowing and his eyes are almost bloodshot. His breath is labored and his hands are shaky.

“Calm down, love.” George whispers and raises his right hand to meet Dream’s cheek, who leans into the touch.

“Kiss me.” Dream begs quietly, as if saying anything louder would shatter the moment in little pieces.

An adrenaline rush fills George’s veins. “Anything you want,” he says, and closes the gap.

The kiss is soft. Dream is maneuvering their bodies to be more comfortable, meaning George is pulled on top of Dream. Their lips didn’t part once.

They move together in harmony, both in the kiss and their bodies, putting everything they got into it. It was unsaid feelings and years and years of thoughts, and George felt every single one of them. George is straddling Dream’s middle and Dream is leaning up to meet George’s touch. His hands are rubbing up and down and squeezing George’s hips and George’s hands find their way into Dream’s hair. It’s perfect and imperfect and everything George has been waiting for, yearning for.

They part, and Dream pushes their foreheads together. George assumes they look dumb, but how could he care in this moment?

“Beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Dream says, his breath tickling George’s mouth. He lets out a breath and breaks out into a smile. His hands start brushing through Dream’s hair and George backs away to get a good look. Dream is staring back.

George lunges forward and wraps his arms around Dream’s neck, sending him flat on the bed with an “oof”.

“Jesus Christ, George. A warning would be nice.”

“I love you. I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-” George couldn’t get enough of saying it. George’s dam cracked when Dream held him and fucking exploded when they kissed. He doesn’t have to hold back anymore, so he doesn’t.

“Slow down, baby.” Dream says through a chuckle. He makes George lean up with tans hands on pale cheeks and a lot of eye contact. “I love you, too.”

George’s breathing slows down to a normal, less-adrenaline-filled pace, and Dream kisses him again. George forces his head back up.

“What does this mean for us?”

“Isn’t it a little obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Boyfriends, George. We’re dating now.”

“How do you know I wanted to even be your boyfriend.” George narrows his eyebrows in faux-suspicion.

Dream’s stare is blank. “I mean. You’re- well- you know, um-”

George dismisses this shortly and confirms, “I want to be your boyfriend.”

Dream sighs in relief. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” George slides off Dream’s waist and lays facing him. Dream turns as well. “Was that question the last question?”

“No, actually. There were a few left.” Dream blinks, then muses, “Guess we didn’t need 36 questions after all.”

“That was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said and I hate you for it.”

“You wound me, George. You wound me.”

George makes up for it by letting himself be engulfed in Dream’s embrace, and feels tiny kisses on the top of his head. George nuzzles closer.

Yeah, everything was going to be fine.

#idk how to tag this but um anyways u should read this #I SPEEDRAN THIS SHIT IN 3-4 HOURS #dnf fic #dreamnotfound #dnf #dreamnotfound fic #dnf fic rec #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound

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jinterlude · 3 years

Text

Grow a Pear

—Requested by @shadowsremedy: Seokjin + Kuroko’s Basketball + School Gym as part of @bangtan-headquarters Bangtan Anime Club Drabble Event!

—Pairing: Seokjin x Reader (Female OC) [feat. Seungcheol from SVT]

—Genre(s): Humor, Slight-Angst, & Slight-Fluff

—AUs/Tropes: Anime-verse, Kuroko’s Basketball!AU, High School!AU, Basketball Player!Seokjin, Basketball Club Manager!Reader, Opposites Attract Trope

—Warning(s) & Rating: Swearing, Reader threatening bodily harm onto Seokjin, Shameless flirting, & Jealousy from an old middle school rival / PG-15

—Word Count: 1.6K

—Summary: In which news of playing against a certain team sparks a rather interesting memory...

—A/N: This drabble is based on episodes 52 & 53 of KnB, but you do not have to watch the series to understand this story’s overall premise! It is also inspired by Kesha’s song “Grow a Pear” (hence the title LOL) because I immediately think of Kise’s character. Since Seokjin reminds me of that 2D pretty boy, I decided to write a fun story!

“Hey, ___!”

A faint hum exits your lips as your eyes remain fixated on your player statistics book. You flip between a few pages with the gears in your brain working in overdrive, almost forgetting for a split moment that Kaijo’s basketball captain asked for your attention.

“Yes, Sungwon?” You reply, closing the book and tucking it underneath your arm.

Pursing his lips, Sungwon strides over to you, leaning against the stage inside the gym. Don’t you love playing inside an auditorium?

“So…” He begins but grows silent. How on Earth is he supposed to ask you to be the sacrificial lamb? How will he tell you that you’ve been chosen to say the team’s resident narcissist yet talented prodigy that Kaijo will play against Fukuda Sugo? Specifically, they’re playing against a certain someone with a rather colorful history with yourself and said prodigy.

Tiny creases form on your forehead as your brows knit together. You know that carefree look anywhere. More often than not, you become chosen to do a specific task that no other teammate wants to do—talking to Kim Seokjin.

“Now, before you say no—”

“Nope.”

“You didn’t even hear what I have to say.”

“Doesn’t matter. My answer is still the same. No.”

With that, you turn on your heel, and not even a few steps in, you bump into the one person you don’t want to see.

“Princess!”

And to think…

You were having such a fantastic day…

“What do you want, Seokjin?” You question, grabbing the statistics book from your underarm and flipping it open to some random page. You already have the data mesmerized like the back of your hand. You just want to appear busy in front of the arrogant pretty boy.

“Well, besides you finally acknowledging that you’re my girlfriend? A little bird told me that we’re playing against his team in the Quarterfinals,” Seokjin replies, his tone dropping near the end. This serious expression slowly takes over his handsome features, almost sending shivers down your spine.

If looks can kill, then Seokjin is guilty of murder in the first degree...

Thank God he chose to attend a different school. Who knows what will happen if two people who absolutely despise each other play on the same team.

“Remind me to thank Namjoon for that…” You mutter, slightly shaking your head as you slowly draw in your breath. Then, a force, light chuckle escapes your lips, personally finding it rather humorous of the current situation.

“Anyway, so how are you feeling about playing against the dude who has a thing for your sloppy seconds?” You tease, attempting to lighten up the situation.

Seokjin’s brow perks up, “Sloppy seconds?” he repeats, a tiny grin form on his handsome face.

You nod, “Well yeah...I mean, he did steal your ex-girlfriend from you.”

In response, the arrogant basketball player hums. However, this exciting gleam enters the corners of his eyes.

What is he thinking now?

Suddenly, he turns to you, his gaze piercing into yours with this unexplainable emotion glazing over his eyes.

“Oh? I mean, he did come close to stealing you away from me that one day.” He states as this bright smile dances across his gorgeous face.

For a split second, your cheeks become hot. Your heart practically drums against your chest. Shit. Even your palms clam up, sticking to the cover of the player statistics book.

What is this feeling?

Then, it dawns on you. This nervousness is the same emotion you felt when you comforted Seokjin that fateful day—well, supported him in your own unique way…

Tapping your pencil against your chin, a soft growl emits from your lips as you try to figure out the best course of action. The Captain, Kim Namjoon, previously asked you to develop a plan to preserve the Generation of Miracle’s stamina, specifically when using their rather unique talents. At first, you thought Namjoon was flat out insane for asking such a request. Like, you’d have to take into account their height and weight difference. Oh! You couldn’t forget that you also keep in mind their current talent levels. All while these calculations occur during an official game with another team.

Yeah...

Namjoon might as well tell you to put on a fucking jersey while he’s at it.

Rubbing the sides of your forehead, you can’t help but let out a long, harsh breath as this throbbing sensation enters the left side of your head.

“Hey, manager ___.” You hear a familiar voice, interrupting your rather irritating calculations. You look up from the tiny pile of scattered papers containing player statistics. However, you don’t bother spouting words towards the overly cocky player. Instead, you merely hum in response, unknowingly irking the basketball player.

Plastering on a smug grin, the person leans against the stage, quickly glancing at what you’re doing.

“So, is that the special project Namjoon asked you to do for him?” The arrogant male student asks.

“Yep, and shouldn’t you be practicing Seungcheol?” You question back, raising a brow.

Seungcheol scoffs lightly, “Why? I mean, I already earned a permanent spot on the regular team, so…” He trails on, chuckling to himself. He finds the mere thought of his spot being taken away quite humorous.

You mentally roll your eyes. God, you don’t know who’s the bigger arrogant fool. Him or—

“Yo, Seokjin!” shouts Jungkook, running up to the new recruit.

Ah, Kim Seokjin. He recently joined the basketball club just a few months ago. He’s already showing promise despite being a second-year student. Shit. Seokjin’s talents have rapidly progressed to the point that Namjoon took notice of him and was promoted to first-string just last week.

Yet, you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something is holding Seokjin back.

But what?

Before you become entirely lost in your thoughts, you hear Seungcheol’s arrogant voice taunt Seokjin.

Oh, great…

You swiftly stand up from your seat and rush over to the argumentative duo. But as you draw near to the quarrelsome pair, you instantly halt. What is this intense atmosphere lingering in the air?

And why do you suddenly feel something other than agitation towards Seokjin?

“W-what did you say?”

“You heard me, Kim Seokjin. Whoever wins our 1v1 match earns the right to call ___ his girlfriend.”

“Hold on. You can’t just call dibs on ___!” shouts Jungkook in complete and utter shock.

Instantly slapping yourself back, in reality, you snatch a basketball from an innocent player and roughly throw it at Seungcheol, anger visible all over your face.

Sadly for you, the annoying prick catches it with ease, smirking at you.

“What’s the matter, babe? You don’t believe that I can put Seokjin in his place?” He coos, further taunting Seokjin. What sets the handsome prodigy over the edge is when Seungcheol abruptly pulls you against his chest, dropping the basketball in the process. His cheek brushes against yours, making you want to gag.

Just as you’re about to violently elbow him in the stomach, Seokjin shoves Seungcheol away before forcefully throwing the discarded ball at him.

“You start.”

“This should be fun.”

But it was just the opposite...

It was a complete slaughter with Seokjin on his hands and knees, panting and sweating profusely. His eyes widened from the shock of his defeat.

Not only has he lost horribly against Seungcheol, but he also lost you—or so he believes.

“So, how about that date, baby girl? After all, you’re now my girlfriend.” Seungcheol asks, making sure that Seokjin can hear him.

“Yeah, I don’t date dudes who have a thing for other fellas’ sloppy seconds.” You bluntly state, turning towards Yoongi and Jungkook, “I mean, first it was Yerin, right? The one that was going around the entire fucking school saying that she was Seokjin’s girlfriend. Oh, I feel sorry for her since it was just last week, you were chasing after her, and now you’re after me.” You say, clicking your tongue in fake disappointment.

Seungcheol’s arrogant smile vanishes and is now replaced with a scowl.

“Let me ask you this, why are you obsessed with Seokjin’s sloppy seconds? Like there are a million girls in this damn school who, oddly enough, would love to be your arm candy. Yet you go after the ones that either show interest in Seokjin or who Seokjin’s interested in. Like, dude. Stop. It’s honestly creepy to the point that I firmly believe you have a weird obsession with him.” You finish as you walk over to Seokjin, offering him a helping hand.

Seokjin faintly smiles, grabbing your hand, as he pulls himself up. Soon, his smile becomes bright. His sweet smile almost blinds you—and makes your heart skip a beat.

“I knew you had a soft spot for me, ___.”

“Don’t push it, Jinnie boy.”

Softly shaking your head, you playfully shove Seokjin, snapping him out of his thoughts. You then jump down from the stage, having popped yourself up there moments earlier.

“Well, all I have to say is that Seungcheol better watch out. He hasn’t seen your ‘Perfect Copy’ in action yet.” You warmly smile as you make your way towards the exit but soon halt. You glance over your shoulder, maintaining that sweet smile, and say,

“Besides, he’s no match for you with your girlfriend cheering you on from the bench.”

“Right…” He mumbles, totally ignoring your words. Then, it hits him as if someone doused him with cold water.

“Wait! Did you just call yourself my girlfriend?!!” Seokjin hollers, chasing after you.

“I don’t know. Win tomorrow’s match, and I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, that’s cruel, princess…”

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flamingo-strikes · 4 years

Text

Happy Prezzie Day!

I got the lovely @totaldramamarching in the discord server swap! Here’s a pic of Zoey and a piece of writing! I hope you like it 💜💜💜

~~~

Ouch! Cameron’s eyes flew open as he sharply sat up to the feeling of something hitting his face. “Wakey-wakey, kid,” a nonchalant accented voice spoke and he looked up to see Vito standing right above him.

Cameron resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead grabbed his glasses, sliding them on. “Morning to you too.” The Italian bruiser gave him an unimpressed look, and Cameron frowned at the breakfast bar in his hand. “You know, you could just wake me up normally by yelling or something.”

Vito paused for a moment then shrugged. “Nah. Why would I freaking do that? That sounds boring as hell.”

Cameron sighed and just unwrapped his breakfast bar, adjusting his position on the couch. At least Vito was considerate enough to grab it for him? He bit down, the taste of strawberry and granola bursting on his tongue. Cameron eyed Vito, who was leaning casually on the wall across from him. He had a water bottle in his hand, but he stared at the window, deep in thought.

Cameron cleared his throat, instantly gaining Vito’s attention on him. “Uh, thanks for letting me crash here last night.”

Vito waved him off. “Don’t mention it, man.” He pointed a finger at him, a teasing grin on his lips. “And now you owe me something, huh? I still want that motorcycle we was looking at yesterday.”

Cameron laughed. “Yeah, alright sure. I’ll get it for you with the million dollars I own,” he replied dryly.

Vito grinned, tossing his now empty water bottle at him. “Asshole.”

Cameron fumbled to catch it. “So, what’s the plan today?” He asked once his laughter died down.

Vito’s grin faltered for a moment, before settling into a content expression. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I know Mike has some school stuff to do...and he’s gotta help Mom run errands later.”

Vito shrugged, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Eh, it’s just gonna be a chill day for me, I guess. Probably won’t do much.”

Cameron nodded. “We can have another video game night with Zoey, maybe tomorrow if that’s cool with you?”

A brief splash of excitement flashed in Vito’s eyes, and his head tilted slightly. “Yeah...I’d like that. Sounds good.”

Cameron smiled, relieved. His stomach lurched at Vito’s next words. “What about you? What are you doin’ today?”

“Oh...” Cameron looked down, the reminder of today’s tasks making him feel almost ill. It was a nauseating feeling, akin to the one that you get on a super high rollercoaster. “I have a lot of homework to do today - wait, what time is it?!” He asked suddenly, his voice frantic.

Vito frowned and glanced at his phone. “It’s 9:46, man. Just chill, okay? Breath, Cam.” His normally rough tone was laced with something else. It sounded like concern to Cameron.

Cameron hadn’t even realized how heavy he’d been breathing. “I-I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Vito was now standing closer, a look of confusion on his face.

Cameron swallowed. “Y-yeah.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Vito asked a bit softer. “I may be a muscle head, but I can listen too!”

His lips curving up into a small smile, Cameron nodded. “So, I’m in a group project at school...and, uh...my group-mates aren’t really doing anything. It’s due in a couple days and I have to make it, write the document piece, get citations...”

Vito had been watching him intently, frowning. “All by yourself?” He asked gruffly.

“Yeah...”

Vito was quiet for a moment, before standing up sharply. He threw his hands up in the air. “Those freaking assholes!”

“Uh, Vito-”

“It’s a group project! Why the hell aren’t they doing anything?! They think they can just pin stuff on you, and get the good grade without doing shit?!”

Cameron sighed. “It’s fine. I’m used to it honestly.” Vito opened his mouth but Cameron continued. “I’m not strong at all, you know. I get knocked out in two seconds in PE class. All I have to offer is my brain... so I should just do that.”

“No.”

He blinked. “No...?”

Vito shook his head. “You’re damn wrong, you know. I’ve fought against guys bigger than me, but you’re still one of the toughest guys I ever met.”

Cameron’s eyes widened. “What do you mean...?”

Vito��s brows furrowed. “I think being smart is another kind of strong, Cam. You can take people down with your brain! No fighting, no blood, no nothing. Besides, you get really freaking amazing grades, which is always a good thing, y’know?”

He looked at the window again, somewhat in thought. “And...you’re a good kid, Cam. Trustworthy and reliable. You’ve really made things better for Mike...and me..all of us. You’re loyal and know how to come through, but no one should take advantage of that.”

Cameron looked down, considering his words. Warmth burst into his chest and he smiled, the burden on his shoulders lightening. “Thanks, Vito...you really mean that?”

Vito gave a lopsided smile. “Yeah, man. I do.” He rubbed his knuckles onto Cameron’s head, earning a “Hey!”

Cameron was trying to swat his hand off while Vito laughed victoriously, when suddenly the doorbell rang. They glanced at each other before moving to answer it. Vito swung the door open to see Zoey, trying to balance a few bags of takeout in her hands. “Hey, guys!”

“Hey, Zoey,” they chorused. Vito immediately took some of the bags from her and carried them to the kitchen, while Cameron closed the door after her.

“Aw, you didn’t have to bring breakfast,” He said, waiting for her to slip off her shoes and join them.

“Course I did, Cam. If I didn’t, you’d probably be eating some ungodly protein shake made of fruits and Oreos.”

Cameron blushed. “That was one time! And it was Mike’s idea!”

She gave him a pointed look. “Sureee.”

“Hey, come on, whaddya have against protein shakes?” Vito questioned jokingly. “Cam here needs as much of them as he can get.”

Cam rolled his eyes. “Besides, take-out can’t be any better,” he pointed out.

Zoey groaned. “Okay, fine, I was just craving Lo Mein and I figured you wouldn’t have any complaints eating it at 10am,” she admitted begrudgingly.

Cameron pointed a finger. “HA! So you admit!”

“Freaking finally!” Vito chimed in, handing her the little container of noodles and a pair of chopsticks.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. But her lips were curved up in a fond, exasperated grin.

They simply dug into their food for a few minutes, savoring everything on empty stomachs that hadn’t eaten anything since the night before. Finally, Vito spoke. “So, Zoey, you busy today?”

Zoey hummed, finishing chewing before she replied. “Not really. I have a babysitting job tonight, but nothing during the day besides a couple errands.”

“Well, how about today, we help Cam with this big project he’s got going on?”

Cameron almost choked on a mouthful of fried rice. “N-no, it’s fine. I’ve got in handled-”

“Sure! What kind of project is it?” Zoey asked. Her eyes narrowed after a beat. “I’m guessing your partners aren’t doing anything again?”

“Nope,” Vito answered for him, popping the ‘p.’

Cameron played with his chopsticks. “It’s for History...and no, it’s just me.”

Zoey frowned for a second before returning to her soft smile. “Well, don’t worry, Cam. We’re totally here to help. Right after eating, we can drop by your house to get supplies.”

Vito nodded. “Yeah, and I can bash in those slackers’ heads, if you want.” He made a threatening motion with his fists.

Cameron laughed. “Well, maybe leave out that second thing, but thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Cam. We’re here for you, and each other,” Zoey promised.

“Anytime.” Vito flashed him a big, honest grin.

#total drama island #total drama #quarantineswap #td zoey #td mike #td cam #td vito #?#td #tdi #my writing

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gwenpoolsaesthetic · 4 years

Text

Study Break

For @madame-ree, who asked “How do you think Wade would react to Peter being a mess of a college student, who procrastinated so badly that now he’s overworking himself because he’s also a perfectionist. First off, I really relate to this because I, too, am a perfectionist who loves to procrastinate (hence my fixating on this vs. doing any of the million other things I should be doing). Secondly, I think Wade’s first reaction would be confusion. Like... this is impossible. Perfect Baby-Boy is perfect. Sure, Petey-Pie can be a little scattered sometimes, but it’s nothing compared to Wade’s swiss-cheese brain. The concept that Pete would mess up like this - would allow himself to fall this far behind - it never even occurred to Wade. And honestly he’s a little bit lost as to how to help. I mean, it’s certainly not as if he could do some of Pete’s homework for him. Even if Pete would allow that, which he wouldn’t because its cheating, Wade still isn’t smart enough to help. He knows that. He knows his baby is the brains of the operation. And the looks. Ok, AND the brawn but you don’t need to rub it in, damn! So he just stands there for a minute. Shocked. Confused. Because what can he do to help? And that... well that just makes matters worse, because Pete sees Wade looking all shocked, and he reads that shock as disappointment and it breaks his heart. Wade is disappointed in him. It makes sense. He’s usually disappointed in himself, he’s failed enough people that he’s tried to save - he’s used to being a disappointment - but Wade’s never been disappointed in him before. He tries not to let Wade see how much it hurts, but of course he does. He sees right away the hurt on Pete’s face and he’s there, in an instant wrapping his arms around Pete and kissing away the pain: “Shh... Hush, baby boy. It’s ok. We’ll figure this out.” Wade is holding him with one large hand, running the other through Pete’s hair, soothing him. “You’re smart, baby. You’re so smart. Don’t know what I would even do if I had half your brains rattling around in my head. And you take on so much, trying to save the world while bein’ in school. Studying, and Avenger-ing, and looking after my ugly mug. You’re allowed to take some time for yourself. It’s ok. We’ll figure it out.” Pete sniffles, blinking back tears. “It’s bad. I messed up.” “I mess up all the time.” Wade is holding him so close, whispering the words into his skin. “You always help me. I’m going to help you, ok?” Pete nods, sniffling again. “But there’s so much, Wade. I can’t do it. There’s no way...” “There’s always a way, Webs. That’s what you’ve taught me. We just gotta take it one step at a time, ok?” He presses a kiss into Pete’s soft, brown hair. “What did you tell me, huh? When I was tryin’ to be good and Yellow was drivin’ me up the walls? What did you say?” Pete mutters something into Wade’s chest. “What’s that, baby boy? Say it again, so that I can hear you.” “Write it down,” Pete repeats, only a little bit clearer. If Wade didn’t known what the right answer was, he might not have understood. He decides not to press it. “That’s right. You told me to write it down. To make a list of all the things I was going to try to do, and all the things I had to be careful not to do. Your list is easier, because you just gotta focus on what you’re going to do, ok? You don’t gotta worry about things like “don’t unalive anybody,” or “no replacing Stark Tech logos with the Bat-Signal.” “That was you?” Pete stares up at him wide-eyed. “That’s not really what matters, is it baby boy? What matters is you and what you need to get done to get back on track with school, right?” Pete nods, and Wade is happy to see his eyes look a bit brighter. He guides Pete to the couch, settling him down and squeezing his hand gently. Then he’s off, gathering supplies. A notebook and a pencil, and a glass of water because he knows his baby boy doesn’t drink enough. He’s always forgetting and getting dehydrated. Together they make the list - what assignments are due and on what day - and then they build a schedule for getting them all done. And yeah, it’s a lot. Pete has a few late nights, but Wade stays up with him, bringing him water and snacks, and kissing his forehead gently. Never enough to distract. He doesn’t want to distract. And when Pete worries that “Everyone is going to notice that Spider-Man suddenly disappears around finals!!” Wade throws on the suit and swings out into the night, making sure to carefully follow the Spidey code of conduct of course. He wouldn’t do anything to make his precious baby spider look bad. And yeah, one jerk commented that he looked like he’d put on a little weight, but he figured overall people weren’t looking too closely at exactly what Spider-Man looked like. They were just happy to be saved. Wade checks in with Pete, making sure he’s staying on track and not getting distracted, but is taking enough breaks to rest his mind, and then... one evening...

Pete walks into the living room with a huge grin plastered on his face. And... oh... that’s nice. Wade hasn’t seen him smile like that in over a week. “I’m done!” Pete announces. “That’s great!!” Wade cheers, grabbing his hand and pulling him into his lap. “I know that was a really hard project you had to finish, and I’m proud of you. What’s next.” “Nothing.” “What do you mean, nothing?” “I mean I’m done!” Pete pulls the list from his back pocket, and every single item has been checked off. “Like, done done. We did it!” You did it, baby boy. Not me.” “Uh-uh.” Pete shakes his head. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Wade.” “Well,” Wade smiles at him, something like pride bubbling up in his chest. “I’m just happy to help.” “Wade.” Wade’s eyes snap to Pete’s at the change in his tone. It’s darker. His eyes have gone darker too, pupils blown out under hooded lids. “Wade. I know you were trying not to distract me. But...” “Yeah?” “But I miss you.”

“Oh, baby boy...” Wade leans in, kissing him the way he’s wanted to the past week and a half. He hasn’t wanted to distract. He hasn’t. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about it. How good his baby boy looked, sitting at his desk. How much better he’d look spread across it. Wade stands, one hand hooked under Pete’s ass, lifting the smaller man easily. Pete may be stronger than Wade - what with his spider-muscles and all - but Wade is still enhanced and Pete is still a scrawny little twink of a thing, so moving him around is no problem at all. Pete gives a small whimper of confusion as Wade walks past the bedroom, moving instead to the small room that Pete uses as an office. “You’ve been working so hard,” Wade explains. “Probably got yourself hating this room. Let’s make some good memories to replace those stressful ones, huh?” (This takes place somewhere between chapters 14 and 15 of Once You Go Red)

#Fic #My fic #peter parker #wade wilson #college peter parker #spideypool #gift #ask and ye shall recieve

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autisticpeterparkerheadcanons · 5 years

Text

They say if you can’t find content for something, then make it yourself, so here’s autistic!Peter Parker headcanons that literally no one asked for. I’ve seen some, but they all seem to be very similar, and I need MORE and also I have a different take on it, SO. (My brain that needs Categories for Things doesn’t know what to do with this exactly because it seems that a lot of people think the common labels are too ableist and I don’t disagree, so I’m calling this stealth!autism because it’s Not Obvious And Undiagnosed But Still Relevant, AKA me, lol.)

Under a cut because this monster weighs in at just over 2k words. Oops.

Also, ya know, a little bit AU because I hate that Tony sold the Tower. :P

Tony was the first to realize anything was different about the kid, after he started spending more time actively mentoring him after the Vulture fiasco.

It was small things at first. He didn’t think much about it. The first couple of months, most sarcasm went completely over the kid’s head (which, okay, Tony’s brand of humor isn’t really mainstream anymore, he thinks -- he doesn’t speak meme -- and maybe that was the problem because the kid does slowly catch on to it, and fewer and fewer awkward moments ensue as time passes). He stuttered and didn’t often make eye contact, but he wrote that off as more nerves than anything. He rambled about one topic non-stop sometimes, but he wrote it off as anxiety -- a need to fill the silence. His hands were always busy, if not with anything productive, then a constant fidgeting. Once again, probably just nerves.

But as time passed and Peter became decidedly more comfortable around him, none of those things disappeared. Maybe he stutters a little less, but nothing about his mannerisms changed. And the longer he knows Peter, the more little things come to his attention.

Peter has a hard time taking verbal instructions. It’s not that he’s not listening or focusing. It’s more like he just doesn’t...comprehend? process? It just doesn’t always stick. And that’s okay. Tony can work with that. He makes Peter repeat instructions to make sure he’s got it, or he writes it down if he can’t just show the kid himself. Everybody learns differently, after all. (Tony would know.)

Peter often stayed for dinner when he came to the Tower, and Tony noticed the things he liked to eat and the things he wouldn’t. “You don’t like mushrooms? Uncultured!” -- A shrug. “I don’t mind the taste, but I can’t stand the texture. Same goes for shrimp.”

(He files that information away for safe keeping. Do Not Make Shrimp.)

And, really that was just the start. The seemingly ‘little things’ piled up.

One night, after Peter had left, Tony was puzzling everything over. Trying to figure this oddly eccentric kid out. Pepper offered a listening ear.

“It sounds like he could be on the spectrum? It’s a lot of little things, but they add up. It fits.”

And, oh. That made sense actually. But... “Why would he not tell me that?”

“You’re still his hero. He probably doesn’t want you to think any differently of him.”

So Tony doesn’t say anything. There’s no tactful way to ask something like that, after all. Peter will tell him when he’s ready to -- if he ever is -- Tony figures. But until then, he’ll just keep adjusting. Life is probably hard enough to navigate, no need to make the workshop that way, too.

Peter doesn’t know. He’s always been aware that he’s different, sure, but he has Ned and -- more recently -- MJ as friends and (most of) the Decathlon team, so it’s okay. He doesn’t mind, not really.

(He didn’t present in the ‘normal’ ways when he was little, so, just like Tony, all the adults in his life wrote off the ‘little things’ as something else.)

And then everything happens and suddenly he’s spending a lot of time with the Tony Stark and getting to work in his lab with him, and if the Tony Stark does’t mind that he’s kind of weird and awkward, then he must not be that weird or awkward. Tony doesn’t interrupt his rambles or look annoyed by them. He doesn’t comment on the fidgeting or stuttering. Peter doesn’t know when the hero worship ended, but he thinks it probably had something to do with the sheer amount of patience the man has for him and his oddities.

(And, don’t get him wrong, Tony is still his hero, but it’s different now.)

Besides his aunt and Ned, he thinks Tony might just be the most comfortable person to be around.

Second semester starts, and he finds out he needs to take an elective instead of a free period in order to stay on track to graduate. Unfortunately there’s only one class that’ll fit in his schedule as is and he doesn’t really want to mess around with the placements of his other classes, so he ends up taking some sort of health class, but not the fun home-ec ones where you get to cook and eat the stuff you make. He’s not exactly dreading it, but he’s not looking forward to it either.

Instead of having an exam for midterms, they have a project, the topics assigned at random, things like depression and anxiety and ADHD. Peter’s topic is Autism Spectrum Disorder. Like most people his age, he has a vague idea of what that is, but he thinks it’ll be interesting to learn more about, so he’s at least not dreading doing research.

He starts with the basics, what it is and how it works and the ‘markers’ of how you can tell if someone is. Which leaves him vaguely confused. Because some of these things sound like him? But he’s not, so.

He ends up in forums, because he knows that the strictly medical side of things often doesn’t actually do it justice with how it is to actually live with something. On every forum he slogs though there’s always at least one thread about not being formally diagnosed at all or not until adulthood. And he always reads those because how could something like that get missed? But he quickly finds out it’s really pretty common (or, at least, more common than he thinks it should be).

He goes to blogs, too. Between the two, he finds a million and one things that people on the spectrum deal with that ‘official’ sites don’t tell you. Actual people relate what it’s actually like, and suddenly there’s this seed planted in his mind because holy crap does he identify with this and suddenly a lot of things make more sense.

He’s not sure how he gets there, but he ends up on an online AQ test and he takes it. He doesn’t technically score high enough, but he’s borderline (and the higher end of that, even, barely missing the lowest number, and if he’s honest, a couple questions he wasn’t entirely sure how to answer and that may have made a difference), and the site itself says, “89% of those who fall in the borderline category are diagnosed” and...

He doesn’t really know what to do with this information. He’s almost 16 and he’s old enough to understand this kind of stuff so surely if May knew she would have told him. But how the heck do you even ask about something like this? “Hey, May, am I autistic?” just wasn’t going to cut it. And if she didn’t know, that would be even more awkward. So he doesn’t. He buries the thought and ignores it the best he can.

But Tony notices because of course he does. He asks if Peter is alright and spends an awful lot of time staring at him with that expression no matter how many times he says he’s fine. Eventually, Tony does drop it with a quick “I’m always here to listen if you need to talk -- no judgment” and Peter appreciates that more than he’d like to admit, but just like with May, how the heck do you start a conversation like this one? So he still doesn’t.

For a while after, everything is fine. He turns in his project, gets an A on it, and he puts it out of his mind.

Finals pass, and summer vacation starts, which means he has more time to swing around Queens and more time to spend with Tony in the lab. This is going to be the best summer ever he’s pretty darn sure.

It’s late June, and Peter is staying the weekend because May is out of town and any excuse is a good one. AC/DC is playing over the lab’s speakers, just like normal, and he’s rambling about something when he suddenly becomes very aware that that’s what he’s doing, that he’s actually info-dumping, and -- he cuts off mid-sentence. Because he hasn’t thought about this in months, but it’s back again. What if...?

He zones out, he’s not sure for how long, but the music clicks off and suddenly Tony is sitting directly in front him, obviously concerned. Very concerned, because he’s not even trying to hide it. “Peter? What’s wrong?” No nickname? Tony is definitely on to him, and he’s not going to get away with saying ‘nothing’ this time. He stares down at his hands, and he can’t help but rub his fingers together (he doesn’t really have anything else to fidget with at the current moment so).

He’s very aware of the silence and that Tony is still waiting for an answer. But he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything.

(To Tony’s credit, he doesn’t so much as shift or sigh. He just...sits and waits. He’s not usually such a patient man, but Peter is different. He can be endlessly patient with Peter. Pepper says it’s because Peter is practically his kid, and he’s not so sure about that, but whatever.)

The silence is uncomfortable and he can feel himself starting to panic, but he forces himself to breathe and try to unscramble his thoughts. Because whatever he says, he’s determined to not say it bluntly. There has to be a subtle way of asking...maybe...right? He’s determined to try, anyway.

In the end, he settles on a mumbled, “Mr Stark? Do you think I’m... different?”

(And Tony has to steel himself because he’s known for more than six months at this point and he’s just been waiting for this conversation so you’d better not mess this up, Stark.) “Maybe. But that’s not a bad thing. Normal people don’t accomplish things worth remembering.”

“You don’t think I’m...weird? or awkward?”

“You’re a teenager. ‘Weird’ and ‘awkward’ are kinda part of the job description.”

Peter almost smiles. He knows Tony is joking with him, but... “No, I mean....” He cuts off. He doesn’t know what he means, really, and trying to figure it out is exhausting. “I don’t know. Never mind. It’s not important.”

“If something is bothering you, that makes it important to me.”

Peter isn’t sure what to think of that, and silence drags on again.

For a hot minute, Tony thinks he blew it. But then Peter speaks up again, and when he finally starts, he rambles it all out and doesn’t even try to sort it out. He just...wants it out. “I just... I don’t fit in, Mr Stark, and I’ve always known that and I’ve been okay with that because I’m just me, ya know? And if other people don’t like me, that’s on them not me, or at least that’s what I’ve always been taught and everything, it’s just I’m weird and I know it, and I’m just...” There’s a pause, and he’s not sure Tony even hears what he ends with, “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

(At this point, Tony realizes that Peter probably didn’t have any idea until a couple of months ago. Oh. Well.)

When Tony replies, it’s not how Peter thinks he will. “Does this have something to do with that mid-term project you had to do?” He finally meets Tony’s gaze again, and Tony adds with a smile, “You were acting kinda like this then, too, kid.”

He looks back down at his hands and mumbles. “Autism. That’s what my project was on.”

“And you think you are?”

Peter can’t even find it in him to nod. He just...keeps staring at his hands and waits for the other shoe to drop because surely this is it, this’ll be the thing that’s too much on top of everything else, and Tony will boot him out because he doesn’t want to deal with it.

It’s only quiet for a moment before Tony says casually, “You wanna know who else is on the spectrum? Einstein. Or, I guess I should say was, but that’s irrelevant.”

Peter is looking at him again, because What???

Tony smiles at the look on Peter’s face. “I’m serious. People who know far more about it than I do say he probably was.” He shrugs. “So your brain works a little differently. So what? It just means that you’ll see answers no one else will. So the way I see it, that just means you’re gonna change the world, kid.”

Peter decides maybe he can live with this after all.

(They go back to work, the music clicks back on, and it’s a solid ten minutes before it dawns on Peter. His head snaps up and over to where Tony is working a few feet away, and says, “You already knew, didn’t you?”

Tony just laughs and says, “Pep guessed before I did really, but I guess you could say that. I’ve had a hunch since around Christmastime.”

And that puts him more at ease than anything yet. Tony knew and still treated him exactly the same as before. He decides maybe this is okay.)

(Not a week later, when Peter shows up at the Tower to work on stuff, he finds a box on his workbench. Inside are various fidget toys. All he can do is stare as Tony comes up beside him.

“Try ‘em out. Let me know what you like. That way I can have a stash because God knows you lose things like no one I’ve ever known.” It’s all said with a fond smile, and Peter knows it’s true -- he does lose things like crazy.

Peter decides he likes the cubes, and Tony is true to his word. “This one stays here, on your table. Here’s another one that stays on your desk at home. This one is a spare for your backpack, and this one is to carry around wherever. I also have three more in the drawer over there for when you inevitably lose one.”

They’re all superhero-themed, and he’s pretty sure Tony commissioned the designs especially for him, though he can’t prove it.

At some point a weighted blanket appears in his room in the Tower after a movie night where Tony pulls out his and Peter comments how AMAZING it is. He gets another one for home for his birthday. Both are also custom-made superhero-themed colors.)

#actuallyautistic #autistic peter parker #MCU #autistic headcanon #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #respectfully asking to not tag as st//rker please and thank you #because it's only intended as irondad :)#also there will be more with like May and Ned and MJ #and the other Avengers because #Canon who? never met her lol

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twothumbsandnostakeincanon · 5 years

Text

Stiles was just kind of weird.

Weird name, weird sense of humor, weird habits.

So it wasn’t really a surprise to anyone that his weirdness extended to the point of him being a Guide. Hell, it wasn’t even really a surprise when he was shipped off to the special school for Guides and Sentinels that were too potent to be in public before they were trained.

But it was a little bit of a surprise when his instructors discovered that he was not, in fact talking to himself between classes as they thought.

He was talking to his soul animal.

__________

“He’s been here one month!” Ms. Clara, the bonding counselor, hissed at Finstock. “There are instructors who have been here for years without seeing theirs, much less engaging in verbal communication!”

“Stilinski can barely shut up in class, why would his soul animal be any different,” Finstock answered carelessly as he scrawled six question marks at the top of an econ paper and flung it to the side. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. He’s starting to make progress at shielding, and the sooner he gets that shit the sooner we can kick him out. Then maybe I’ll finally be able to get a cup of coffee in the morning before he’s emptied the entire goddamn carafe.”

“I’m not complaining,” she said, offended. “It’s just… unsettling. Soul animals are sacred. Most of us only see them a handful of times, but he talks to his as if- as if it were a particularly rude cat!”

“Ferret,” Finstock corrected absentmindedly, writing NO on the next paper and underlining it three times.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a ferret. And apparently it bites him when he’s not giving it enough attention, so rude is pretty accurate.”

Ms. Clara’s mouth was hanging open, and continued to do so even after Derek Hale stormed into Finstock’s office.

“I need to talk to you about Stiles’ soul animal,” he said, eyebrows drawn together in a frustrated line.

“See?!” Ms. Clara said, gesturing sharply at him. “I’m not the only one who finds it unsettling!”

“What?” Derek said. “No, I don’t- it keeps interrupting my lectures on Animal Farm.”

Finstock finally looked up from his grading.

“How in the hell is a soul animal interrupting your lectures? Stilinski’s the only one who can see or hear it!”

“Stiles says it won’t stop biting him unless he tells everyone what it’s saying,” Derek said, shifting a his weight and crossing his arms. “I guess he could be lying. Stiles is already pretty proficient with projection- Look, the point is I wasted fifteen minutes arguing that ferrets couldn’t have prevented the rise of Stalinism-”

“Tiny baby Jesus,” Finstock pleaded, rubbing his face. “I know you’re still relatively new here Hale, but just because a student, or a student’s soul animal, brings up a topic doesn’t mean you have to engage. I would, because Animal Farm sucks and talking about anything else would be more interesting, but I know how anal you are about lesson plans-”

“-it’s state curriculum-”

“So Hale, if the sacred ferret interrupts you again then tell it to shut up, and Ms. Clara, engage in some selective attention if it really bothers you that much. Now get out of my office so I can drink bourbon while I grade, the way God intended.”

Ms. Clara turned on her heel and stormed out, but Derek hesitated.

“... Can I really do that? I mean… it’s not really a normal situation, and I absolutely have to get through this unit by the end of the week, but… it’s his soul animal.”

Finstock sighed.

“Nothing about Stilinski is normal. Just work something out.”

__________

“You should find a Sentinel and bone them so we can get out of here.”

“Shut up Quincy, I’m trying to read about communist ham.”

“You could be reading about communist ham on your own bed, with your blankets and your TV-”

“-and feeling every emotion in a ten block radius until I fall into a swoon and end up right back here,” Stiles finished dryly.

Quincy scoffed.

“You have better control than that.”

“Not yet,” Stiles said grimly. “I will, but not yet. And I’m not about to go out and bond with the first Sentinel I see just so I can go home. Besides, even with the lightest of bonding, which, by the way, does not necessarily include fucking, but even with that, whoever I bonded to wouldn’t want to let me out of their sight for at least a week. We’d still be stuck, even with the boost in my shields.”

“Of course you don’t have to fuck them, but why wouldn’t you?” Quincy asked, baffled. He looked over from where he was basking in a patch of sunlight on the floor.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Is every soul animal as horny as you?”

“I’m an extension of you, so if you have a problem with it-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles cut him off, cheeks turning a little pink. He knew exactly why Quincy was acting the way he was; Stiles hadn’t been able to smuggle any sex toys into his luggage before he was whisked off to Guide Camp. Or The Institute for Sentinels and Guides of Sensitivity. Whatever. The point was that he was lacking, and apparently it resonated all the way down to his soul. He cleared his throat. “Besides, it’s your fault that Hale is watching me so closely. I probably could have gotten away with the CliffsNotes if you hadn’t insisted on arguing about your ferret superiority.”

“If you think for one second that ferrets would have put up with any of Napoleon’s-”

“That is so not the point. You’re lucky he offered to listen to your bullshit during his office hours instead of just straight up kicking us out of class.”

Quincy scoffed.

“I’m lucky?”

“Yes,” Stiles said firmly. “Because you’re a reflection of my soul, and I could very easily see my soul going hairless if I have to repeat American Literature next year.”

Quincy gasped.

“You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.”

“Do you really want to find out?”

Quincy’s furry little face somehow managed to convey utter betrayal before curling back up with a huff in his warm patch.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “I’ll show you, and Hale… class discussion is for chumps… office debates are the real battleground…”

Stiles finally returned to Napoleon and his windmill, ignoring the touch of homesickness and loneliness that resonated between the two of them. Stiles just had to get through this. He had to get through being the weird one here so he could go home and be the weird one there.

At least when he was the weird one at home he had his Dad and Scott.

Here he had no one.

__________

Stiles knocked on Hale’s office door, and then walked in without waiting for an answer.

Derek looked up from his desk, exasperated.

“You’re supposed to wait for me to tell you to come in, Stiles. What if I’d been helping another student?”

Stiles waved a hand dismissively.

“Then I would have felt two people in room instead of your lonesome brooding self.”

Derek grimaced.

“You’re not supposed to be able to feel in here at all, Stiles. That’s what the shields in the Institute are for, to prevent-”

“-Prevent overwhelming emotions from my sensitive little Guide brain, blah blah blah.” He dropped down into a chair, immediately sticking out a hand and then bringing it to his lap, as if he were picking up something Derek couldn’t see. Disconcerted to once again see Stiles treating impossible things as if they were no big deal, Derek tried to push back to his initial concern.

“Yes, exactly. If you’re still picking up things like that then we may need to, I don’t know, move you to a more secluded area, or double up shields or something. We’re responsible for your wellbeing, Stiles, and we take that seriously.”

“Okay, first of all dude,” Stiles said with an eye roll, “you’re like four years older than me. Stop acting like you’re wiser and so much more experienced.” He had one hand up by his shoulder now, clearly supporting the weight of something. “Second of all, we both know that the Institute barely has any idea what to do with me. The only reason I’m here instead of locked up in an isolation room somewhere is because Finstock is just crazy enough to say ‘what the hell’ instead of ‘hell no.’ I make everyone uncomfortable, I pick up on some training way too quickly, and other training doesn’t work on me at all; sensing how many people are in a room is the least of my problems.” He paused, and tilted his head toward the shoulder with his hand. “Quincy says stop stalling and get ready to admit that ferrets would make the best political leaders.”

“Quincy. Your soul animal… is named Quincy?” Derek asked, dazed. Stiles shrugged.

“I told him it was a girls name.”

“Don’t be a small minded gender binarist,” Quincy said, nipping Stiles’ ear sharp enough that Stiles dropped him to rub it, scowling. Quincy just sat up on his lap instead, clearly ready to do battle.

“It’s a… him?” Derek asked, eyes darting around Stiles occasionally, pointlessly trying to see what Stiles could.

Stiles smiled bemusedly.

“Well, he’s a reflection of my soul, and I’m a ‘him.’”

“Right,” Derek said, a little distantly. He’d only ever caught a glimpse of his own. A blackbird of some kind. He’d always referred to the animal as ‘it’, but now he wondered if that was offensive. He sternly shook himself back into the moment, reasserting his attention. “Just because your situation is… unique, doesn’t mean that your learning environment shouldn’t be as good as everyone else’s.”

“Dude, just don’t worry about it, okay? I’m getting better at consistent shielding all the time, but short of my perfect sentinel match magically walking through that door and bonding with me immediately, there’s nothing to do about right now anyway.”

Suddenly a knock rapped at the door. They both turned to look at it in surprise as it opened. Stiles’ mouth fell open as the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen stepped in.

Blue eyes, broad shoulders, and a smirk that said a million things Stiles immediately wanted to have whispered in his ear. He was magnetic.

He was a Sentinel.

“Hello nephew. I apologize for interrupting, but your mother insisted I get this to you before it cooled.” He placed a tupperware container on the corner of the desk, clearly ready to leave as quickly as he came, but stopped abruptly when he spotted Stiles sitting.

They stared at each other for a beat, and Stiles felt an undeniable pull. An urge to get up and touch, even to wrap himself around the other man and stay there for days. His knees twitched, as if they were going to get up and move whether or not they had permission.

“Holy shit,” Quincy whispered.

Peter’s eyes shot down to Stiles’ lap and widened.

“Holy shit,” Quincy repeated. “Look at that huge ass wolf!!”

Stiles tore his eyes away from Peter to look behind him and sure enough, there in the doorway stood an enormous grey wolf. Peter’s brow furrowed, looking behind himself in the same direction and stiffened in surprise. The wolf just ambled in, nudging Peter’s hand with his nose before continuing over to sit in front of Stiles. Quincy wasted no time in scurrying off Stiles’ lap to climb on top of him, causing Peter and Stiles to both shiver as they touched.

It took one more beat for Peter to recover, and then his eyes snapped back to Stiles, sharply taking in everything about him. A clever grin slowly took over his face. He extended his hand.

“You must be Stiles.”

#sentinel/guide au #I'm the world's biggest hoe for sen/guide #and it's honestly amazing that I haven't pulled something like this out of my ass before now #anyway I just needed to do a small something rather than any of my big somethings #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #2k words #this blog needs a tag for my bullshit #tumblr fic and kinda fic

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singledarkshade · 4 years

Text

New Old Friend

Summary: Rip finds himself in a town full of geniuses. To his surprise he’s already got an ally, which will be helpful, as his shard is in a top-secret research facility’s highest security section. Part Eight of Rip Hunter – Unstuck in Time and Space. Sequel to Unstuck In Time And Place, Under The Sea, A Mother’s Advice, Abydos Vacation, Connections, Perfect Day and Detective Hunter. Author’s Note: I probably shouldn't be posting this yet as I have only a vague idea of the story. I've never written for any of the Eureka characters before so I hope they come across okay. Anyway, hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. Enjoy Part One The smell of wet earth surrounded him as the light faded. Pulling himself up off the ground, Rip looked around. There were trees everywhere and the road he was standing on went on as far as the eye could see in both ways.

“Where the hell am I now?” Rip sighed.

With a grimace he decided to start walking. The one thing he’d learned since he’d began bouncing through dimensions was that he was usually either near the shard or to someone who was.

“Gideon?” he called, waited for a few moments before sighing again and turned to his left.

It was as good a direction as any.

Rip had been walking for about an hour when it began to rain, a few drops hit his hand before a torrent of water suddenly fell from the sky.

“Bollocks,” Rip snapped, moving to shelter under one of the millions of trees and watching the rain fall.

A horn honking made him turn to see a jeep with the words ‘Sheriff’ emblazoned on it drawing up beside him.

“Hi there,” the man leaned out the window, short blond hair, blue eyes, he had what could only be described as an ‘everyman’ quality to him, “Are you lost?”

Rip took a breath, “Possibly.”

“Car trouble?” the man Rip deduced from the uniform to be the Sheriff asked with an amused grin on his face.

Shrugging, Rip replied, “Something like that,” an idea struck him, “I was hoping to get into town and get a tow.”

“Well, I’m heading back now,” the man told him, “I can give you a lift.”

“I would appreciate that,” Rip smiled, and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Jack Carter,” the man introduced himself, “Town Sheriff.”

“Rip Hunter,” he reciprocated, unable to stop himself adding, “Current vagabond and drowned rat.”

Jack laughed and started to drive.

Jack looked at the man sitting beside him, the accent had instantly given away that he wasn’t from these parts. His hair was soaked and plastered to his head, although the long coat he was wearing appeared to have saved the rest of his clothes from the worst of the rain.

“There’s a clean towel in the gym bag on the back seat,” Jack told him, “If you want to dry off.”

“Thank you,” Rip replied sincerely turning and stretching for the bag.

Jack studied him for a moment before asking, “So what is your specialist subject?”

“Sorry?” Rip asked as he dried his hair.

Jack chuckled, “What do you have your Doctorate or PhD in? Mathematics of the Mind? Gene Manipulator? I’ll even pretend to understand.”

The man looked at him a little confused before replying hesitantly, “I work with Artificial Intelligence.”

“Sounds fun,” Jack said, “My house has an AI.”

“Really?”

Jack nodded, “Are they all bossy?”

Rip smiled softly, “The ones I know definitely are.”

Reaching the edge of town Jack watched Rip look of interest. He remembered the first time he walked into the insane asylum he now called home, how it had seemed so normal at first but then he saw the weirdness.

“You get used to it,” Jack told his passenger who was staring in bemusement at the people they passed.

Rip stared out the window at the perfect small town he was being driven through, something was niggling at his brain about it and finally he saw what it was. A kid on the pavement was writing a complex mathematical equation in chalk, while another sat on the ground surrounded by books of advanced biochemistry. Jack’s question about what degree he held made some actual sense now and Rip began to wonder even more where he was.

Jack turned onto what looked like a main street and parked in front of the Sheriff’s station.

“Thank you for your help, Sheriff,” Rip said as he climbed out the car, “I appreciate it.”

“It’s Jack and you can pay me back,” Jack told him, “I have some boxes I need to unload from the trunk. I could use some help. I can offer some coffee and donuts. You look like you need to heat up a bit.”

Rip hesitated, trying to work out if he should just run but Jack seemed genuine and he did owe the man.

“Of course,” Rip smiled.

“Thanks,” Jack opened the trunk, “They dumped the swap meet collection on me, well I sort of volunteered,” he pulled out a box and passed it to Rip before grabbing one for himself, “No one mentioned it would mean doing so much heavy lifting.”

Following the other man inside, Rip tensed slightly as he was now in a police station. Looking around he saw the cell and worked out three ways to release himself from it there and then.

“Henry,” Jack said making Rip turn to see a man standing waiting, “What are you doing here?”

The man, Henry, grinned, “I’m here for Rip.”

Ice filled Rip’s spine and he forced himself not to demand how the man knew who he was.

“You know Henry?” Jack asked before rolling his eyes, “Of course, getting a tow.”

“Dr Hunter is joining us for a few days to help me with a project,” Henry continued, as Rip became more confused, “All his credentials should be in the system.”

Jack sat at his computer, typing with the one finger technique which drove Rip crazy instantly, “You should have told me you were here to work for GD.”

“He’s not really,” Henry said before Rip could reply.

Jack shrugged, “As long as you don’t blow anything up or accidentally nearly end the world, I’m happy to have you in town.”

Rip chuckled, still confused but replied, “Thanks, Jack. And thanks for the ride into town.”

Henry tapped his arm, “Let’s go get some lunch and then I’ll take you to where you’ll be staying for the next few days.”

Rip walked out the Sheriff’s station with the man introduced as Henry, waiting till they were on the street before demanding, “What the hell is going on? How do you know who I am?”

“Let’s get to Café Diem first,” Henry murmured as he nodded to people greeting him, “I’ll explain once we’re there.”

Unable to argue as Henry started across the road, Rip followed. He wished Gideon were here for her opinion. Wondering if she just hadn’t found him yet or if she was busy with the Legends and hoped whatever she was doing, she appeared soon.

The café was cheerful, it only had about half a dozen people dotted around the dining area but from the smell of the food it would fill soon.

“Henry,” a man who Rip assumed was the manager walked over to them, “What can I get you?”

“Need to use one of the booths, Vincent,” Henry said, “And lunch.”

Vincent’s eyes lit up, “Something important happening?”

Henry laughed, “Just catching up with an old friend. Rip,” he introduced, “This is Vincent, he runs Café Diem.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rip nodded politely before asking.

“And you. Whatever you want to eat just tell me,” Vincent told him with a smile, “Our motto is, ‘You want it, we’ve got it’.”

Rip smiled amused, “Give me a few minutes and I’ll let you know.”

“Booths are just back there,” Vincent smiled before leaving them to talk to someone else.

Following Henry, Rip slid into the booth across from him in the very back corner.

“Who are you?” Rip demanded softly, “And how do you know who I am?”

Henry reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, “My name is Henry Deacon and I know who you are because you told me, the last time we met.”

“The last time we met?”

Sliding the piece of paper across to him Henry smiled, “This might help.”

Picking up the paper, Rip unfolded it and read the note.

You can trust Henry, Spaniel, Broad, Tricycle. Rip.

“I wrote the note,” Rip breathed.

Henry nodded, “About six years ago. For me anyway,” he shrugged, “I don’t know how long it will be for you.”

Rip let out a sigh of relief, “Then you know who I am?”

“And what can I get you gentlemen?” Vincent appeared at their table before Henry could explain any further.

“I’ll have the linguini,” Henry ordered, “And my usual coffee.”

“And you?” Vincent turned to Rip adding when Rip hesitated, “Whatever you want I can make. What’s your favourite meal?”

Rip shook his head with a chuckle, “One of my favourite meals is Fish and Chips.”

Vincent laughed, “And I thought you were going to make things difficult. What about a drink.”

“Tea please,” Rip replied, “With lemon. And yes, I know I’m reinforcing a stereotype with both orders.”

With a smile Vincent left them alone again. Henry waited until he was sure the other man was far enough away.

“Is Gideon with you?” Henry asked, seeing the same shocked expression Rip had worn several times since they’d met up.

“Ah, not at the moment.”

He grimaced, “Well, let me know when she does appear. I have something I want her to advise on.”

“Wait,” Rip rubbed his temple, “You need to tell me what’s going on because I am very confused.”

Henry chuckled, “About six years ago for me, and some indeterminate time in your future, I was working at Nasa and a bright light filled the lab I was working in. When it faded, you were there. It was three in the morning, so I did think I was hallucinating, but you knew who I was and told me we would meet again in Eureka.”

Rip frowned but remained silent.

“The thing was I had literally just received the offer to come here that morning,” Henry explained.

“And that is why you trusted me?” Rip asked.

Henry shook his head, “I trusted you because you told me something specific that I told you to tell me.”

Before Rip could ask Vincent reappeared with their meals.

“For Henry, the chicken and mushroom linguini,” Vincent slid the plate in front of him before turning to Rip, “And for you, beer battered cod with twice cooked chips, freshly shelled garden peas, blanched with a small knob of butter.”

“Wow,” Rip said surprised, “That sounds…fantastic.”

“And since I had some batter left,” Vincent placed a small bowl on the table, “I made you onion rings as well.”

Rip nodded at the chef, “Thank you.”

“Enjoy,” Vincent bustled away.

Henry smiled, “We can talk more once we’ve eaten. I’m guessing it’s been a while since you’ve had something.”

Gratefully Rip turned to the plate in front of him and began to eat.

*********************************************

Alison Blake knew today had been too quiet as she marched through the corridors of GD Section 5 to Lab 53 where Nathan was standing waiting for her.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

Nathan grimaced, “Not sure if wrong is the word for it.”

“Nathan, you called me down here urgently,” Alison reminded him testily, “Why, Dr Stark?”

He grimaced at the use of his title instead of his name before opening the door to the lab. He stepped out the way so she could see in, “To show you this.”

Alison looked in and gaped seeing a strangely shaped object stuck in the centre of the floor, a soft golden glow emanating from it.

“What is that?” she breathed.

Nathan sighed, “I’ve no idea but the energy it’s giving off is immense.”

“And considering the last time we encountered an unknown object giving off a massive amount of energy,” Alison grimaced.

“Then this could be trouble.”

#fic #crossover #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #eureka #henry deacon #jack carter

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floosies · 4 years

Text

Series: La Munenca del Barrio

Warnings: NSFW, Blood, violence, smut, strong language, and drug use

Rocio Cruz lives in a Brooklyn block best known for its vibrant and ignored community. What she always ignored though was the underground scene in the borough, the evils that lay in it and its people. That all comes to an end when she’s introduced to those things she ignored.

(LOOKING FOR FEEDBACK: Hey guys, just curious. Should I tone it down on the amount of spanish? I don’t mind writing in both languages I just want to make sure you guys are enjoying reading it)

Chapter 7: It’s Okay (You Don’t Love Me Anymore)

Series Masterlist

Rocio noticed how happy her mama had been since the mail came a couple weeks ago. Steve had called her, letting her know the date was set for the hearing, but when she asked him if he had told her mom, he got quiet. Somehow she’d found out before he could tell her. In fact, when he called Maritza, she answered with joy and said she’d meet him at the court when the day came.

Steve was interested in finding who the hell found out something that only he and a couple selected few knew. This was supposed to be a secret project. To Rogers, Rafael was a man who represented lost morals. He was loyal and worked hard taking the long meticulous way instead of risking a fuck up with short cuts. Most of Steve’s men now were arrogant, just because they worked for him. They used violence over brains. This is why he needed Cruz back, he needed a man who knew the work and had the methods to do it right.

When Steve was still new to all this, it was Rafael who showed a him how to shoot. If it hadn’t been for that man, Steve would never have become into the man he is now. So wasting no time, he planned a meeting with Maritza, making sure that it would be soon enough as the day after the call but with the discretion that neither Rocio or the younger kids were there.

She was kind, which was odd. The only other times he’d talked to her she always acted indifferent or upset. He didn’t understand how she could have birthed someone as kind and forgiving as Rocio. Or how Rafael ever saw her as some sort of angel. Nevertheless, he explained the situation to her.

Maritza felt betrayed somehow, knowing what she knew now, “what do you mean Quintero hasn’t worked for you in years?” She could see the stress on the young man’s face, “he sided with Federico. After Rafa got arrested, he started acting sketchy. After a while, I found out he was making plans to start a new base with the man who ratted us out.” She sat there for a second, trying to understand how her husband’s closest friends, the ones she knew for decades, suddenly could betray him.

With a quick scoff she spoke, “no me sorprende, i’m not surprised at all. You can’t trust anyone in that lifestyle.” Her eyes scanned his face, all he did was shrug. He couldn’t disagree with that statement, “you think I don’t know? Since I was kid people who worked with Blue Eyes wanted me dead. That’s not why i’m here though.” He paused taking a drink from the mug of coffee she’d given him. “I’m here because, we need to talk about what’s going to happen after he’s out.”

Now she started looking like herself. She was mad, of course she was. Steve figured she probably daydreamed about getting the wealth back. Moving back to the nicer side of New York and having Rafael do something civil like, like working in an office or something. That’s not how any of that worked though, Steve was still in need of guidance whether he liked to admit it or not. With herself now angered at this she rose her voice, “so what exactly is going to happen when he get’s out? You’re going to cage him like some animal? He has children! He has me!” Of course he was expecting this from her, sighing he tried to reason with her. “Calmate, he’s going to be in safe house to protect him. Or did you forget what I just told you about Quintero? Someone wants him dead the minute he is out.” That shut her up. She hated when he had a point, “you know all this would never have happened if he just quit when I begged him too. He would have been here.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, that just pissed her off more though, “I didn’t hear you complaining when your wedding ended up being half a million. Or when Blue Eyes got you the apartment in Soho. You know he used to talk about how you never complained when he came dripping in blood. No complaints of blood on the carpets ,what did he say instead? Ella solo dice, ‘compramos otra’. So don’t try to act like you weren’t having the time of your life.” She had to rebuttal of course, “do you know what my family went-” he cut her off, “your family came begging me to do something about you when Rafael went in. Your father said he’d even take the money for you and get you out of his home. They had more common sense than you. If you’d been smart and taken the money you wouldn’t have been living like this. You could have given Rocio and the other two a good life.” There was silence after, but it wasn’t that kind of silence after you know you’re wrong. It’s the kind that’s left before a storm brews.

He fucked up, he mentioned her name. There was this unspoken rule, he was allowed to know about the kids but Rafael never mentioned their names. Not to Blue Eyes, not Steve, not even to any of his friends. When Steve called to make the meeting, he steered clear from mentioning Rocio’s name. Now he’d let it slip and Maritza was waiting to see what else he’d say. When he didn’t speak, she did. Fear came over her first, “how do you know her name?” He didn’t speak. Now came anger, “why do you know her name?” He still didn’t answer her. Then came frustration, “me vas a decir como chingados sabes el nombre de mi hija, ingrato!” As she uttered out that last word of that sentence she tried to lunge at him but it didn’t really work. He caught her before she could, “si te calmas Maritza, te voy a explicar.” So she tried to calm down.

What was she supposed to think, her daughter was dating a narco. Steve never considered himself that kind of man, but everyone else did. They sat there, he’d never seen her this quiet looking, almost as if she was trying to decide something. Instead, she kicked him out. He knew Rocio wasn’t going to be safe after this, Maritza was the kind of women who believed in petty acts when she felt wronged. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.

Rocio waited for her siblings at the front of their school. She was happy, her client was an old friend from high school and she tipped generously. Even though her siblings were brats, she was gonna take them out to eat. It was a pretty chill afternoon, she was surprised her mama hadn’t called her to ask where they were. When she entered the apartment something felt off, then saw bags with her things in them, “mama we’re home.” Out of her room Maritza came with another bag of her daughter’s things.

Maritza wasn’t looking at Rocio like her daughter at the moment, all she was seeing was anger and pettiness. Somewhere deep down she felt wrong for doing this but her pride always controlled her. “Angel, Marcos. Go to the room, pero ya.” The kids knew better than to argue with their angry mama. They sat in the room, they swear they heard something break and screams of pain coming from their older sister. Marcos looked out of the corner of the door frame to see his sister’s face bloody and covered in tears. His mama went back to hit her again, that’s when he went back inside the room.

Steve picked up Rocio with no time to waste, he’d waited around with his men. What he didn’t expect to see was how swollen her right eye was. She didn’t talk at all the whole drive through. There wasn’t anything he could tell her, except that she was never going back to that place. He had his personal doctor come that very night to his home in Brooklyn. While his girl got fixed up he made some calls and had things arranged. The kids who didn’t deserve that kind of mother, would be watched over carefully. He personally called her grandparent’s, let them know what their daughter/daughter-in-law had done. Then asked his eyes and ears to let the neighborhood know what Maritza had done, the kind of woman she really was.

Rocio didn’t really sleep that night, the pain was dull but still there. The doctor had given her the heaviest dose that was available but she still felt the pain of the beating she’d gotten. She never believed her mama was capable of that kind of violence but she just didn’t know her like she thought she did. As the silence continued to spread through the room where she waited for Steve to come to bed, her phone began sound off. Messages of apologies and encouragement, people linking her to social media posts with pictures of her face. She didn’t know how this got out to everyone but she figured he was behind it.

#mob!steve #mob!bucky #mob!au #dark!steve rogers #mcuedit #mcu #marvel #chris evans #sebastian stan #poc

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tjkiahgb · 5 years

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Episode Recap: 3.15, “Unloading Zone”

Two recaps in two days? The things I do for meaningless internet points.

Bex, Bowie, and Andi sit around the apartment looking at their phones when Bowie suddenly declares it movie night. Everyone’s like, kinda excited about movie night, but not enough to move or do anything about it.

That’s the way we like to movie night.

Bowie says it’s a family night, where they all stare at the same screen. They debate what to see and where to see it but basically realize everything is bad.

Backed into a corner, they realize their only recourse is to take to their phones and the internet to try and find something to watch.

Andi shoots that idea down with a sarcastic “Sounds riveting.”

I take it she’s never seen footage of a swarm of monarch butterflies tearing a cow to shreds in a matter of seconds. I’m talking down to the bone!

They all go back to their phones with the sort of silent resignation that they aren’t going to watch a movie that night and also that they, and frankly all of us, will never stop staring at our phone screens from now until the moment we die. We are prisoners to technology. It is a cage we constructed by mistake and trapped ourselves in permanently by reforming our society around it. It is a karmic form of punishment for our hubris and it will one day be our destruction.

Anyway, please follow me on tumblr dot com, and don’t forget to give my posts likes and reblogs as my self-esteem is built almost entirely upon this.

Speaking of self-esteem: Cyrus.

He and Buffy watch TJ and Kira from afar at the park, where Kira attempts to blind TJ.

Buffy’s trying to figure out if they’re together now, but Cyrus doesn’t know, as they haven’t been hanging out lately. Kira’s been around him almost non-stop and Cyrus is not interested in being around her.

Kira jumps on TJ’s back, providing another stunning metaphor.

My God, she’s got him in a chokehold. She’s attacking him in public! Won’t someone do something?! Basketball boys in the background! Help!

Buffy reassures Cyrus that this won’t last. Kira’s not a nice person, she says, and TJ will figure that out eventually.

At Cloud 10, Andi checks to see if Bex and Celia have made up. Bex doesn’t know, so she checks with Celia to see if they made up.

No.

Bex tells Andi to stop using all the non-sample makeup. Andi’s like, ok, I’ll just take the ones I used. Bex wants to charge her.

Andi, look around! Once again, there are no costumers in the store, just employees and family members. The business cannot afford to bleed money like this!

Andi implores Bex to go talk to Celia, partly because she wants the two to mend their relationship and partly because she probably wants to sneak some more makeup out.

Bex tries to talk to Celia but Celia is cold as ice. Andi makes a joke about it.

That, surprisingly, doesn’t help the situation, so Andi sees herself out.

Bex tells Celia that she knows she’s furious with her for cancelling the wedding, but she would like this whole thing to be over. Celia says it is over. Bex asks her to say something nice to her to prove it.

I dunno, something like, “You are my only daughter and I love you no matter what. I’ve had at least a day to think about it and realized that barn weddings surrounded by alpacas aren’t the most important thing in the world, your happiness is. I would never want to force you into a marriage you weren’t ready for. You have to do what feels right to you. It’s your life, not mine.” I mean, you know, whatever. That’s just a rough draft. I’m open to notes.

But Celia instead sighs and says she’s got nothing.

At the park, TJ sneaks away from Kira long enough to talk to Cyrus alone.

TJ feels like Cyrus has been avoiding him but Cyrus says he hasn’t, TJ’s just been so preoccupied with Kira. TJ’s like, I’ve just been spending some time with her, but Cyrus says it’s the bulk of time. He thinks the two are hitting it off and he’s happy for them.

Don’t put that on me! TJ’s like, we just talk about basketball, the least romantic of the sports! Cyrus asks about the piggyback ride, but TJ says that was because Kira bet him he couldn’t do it and he was like screw you, I have a strong back. I can lift things!

TJ proposes Cyrus hang out with the two of them, but Cyrus isn’t so sure, and to reinforce that point, Kira tracks down TJ using the GPS chip she hid in his pocket and gets real cold, real fast with Cyrus.

TJ’s like, Cyrus should hang out with us, right?

Wouldn’t that be fun if all three of us hung out?

Kira says yes through gritted teeth and TJ’s like, boom! Great! Cool! We can all hang out.

But Cyrus gets the message and decides to scoot.

Do’s to thing.

TJ is sad to see Cyrus go, which Kira notices. She tries to cheer him up by reminding him that she’s still around.

To which TJ is like...

...oh. Yes. Yes, you are.

Later, at The Spoon, Andi comes bursting in and tells her friends to take a look at this!

And they’re like, that’s a phone! And Andi’s like, oh.

The point is not the phone, it’s what was once on the phone: words. And those words tell the story of a clothing store called Mint Chip which burns all the clothes they don’t sell.

The gang enter into a long discussion about capitalism and branding which I don’t understand because I got a C- in my Econ 101 class.

Then Buffy says Mint Chip burned $35 million worth of clothes last year and everyone gets outraged.

Can I just play devil’s advocate here? Maybe they were burning it for warmth?

Buffy says there’s a way to settle this, and they all head to the Rage Cage to smash junk.

No, wait, I mean, they head to a junk cage to... rage smash? Shoot, I feel like I almost had something there.

Point is, the kids get in the dumpster. Buffy tries to but her foot betrays her. Wonder if this has to do with trying to run a marathon on nothing more than moxie.

She plays it off like not a big deal. She says she’s fine but I’m not so sure a-boot that.

Cyrus, now in the dumpster, finally asks if they’re allowed to be doing this.

Ignoring the trespassing charge? The crime is called garbage theft. It’s real. I know that because I got an A- in my Criminology 101 course. Feels like someone should’ve done a quick Google search to make sure they weren’t doing something illegal.

But I guess the time for Googling was before everyone got into the dumpster, because everyone just laughs off Cyrus’s suggestion that maybe they could get in trouble for this.

They find bags and bags of new clothes and wonder what to do with them. They all stare at Andi.

Because this was your thing! You made us care! You’re the reason we’re in the dumpster!

Andi says they all need to figure this out. It’s a group project. Then everyone gets real quiet and stares at one another and a few seconds later, Andi comes up with an entire plan by herself. Go team!

They return that night and steal all the clothes out of the dumpster and ride away with their treasures.

I like how they each got their own special vehicle for the job. Jonah’s got his skateboard. Andi has her quirky wagon. Buffy has a practical cart. Cyrus has an awkward wheelbarrow. Perfect.

Well, okay guys, you’ve committed a crime. A couple, actually. Trespassing and garbage theft, but I think you can still get away with this if you play it cool. I assume the next part of the plan is something low-key. Go around town making anonymous donations to thrift stores and shelters probably. Gets the clothes to people who need it, gives them a new home. Mission accomplished, right?

Oh, no? Not that? Put up a huge, extravagant public display in the middle of the sidewalk on the main street of town instead? Big ol’ gaudy signs saying where you took the clothes from? Large, colorful signs that scream “FREE TO TAKE”? Great idea! Nothing gathers more attention or raises more suspicion than big signs with the word FREE on it.

By the way, where is Mint Chip? Is it nearby? Within walking distance? Within seeing distance?

This is like newlywed bank robbers robbing a bank and their getaway vehicle is their wedding car with all the cans dangling off of it and big writing on the back window that says “JUST MARRIED! DAN AND TIFFANY JOHNSON”

This is like a guy throwing a brick through a department store window but wrapping his photo résumé around the brick. And when you unwrap the résumé it has his name and phone number and email address, and underneath “Special Skills” it says “Microsoft Word, Microsoft Excel, Doing Crimes”

This is like a kidnapper mailing the finger of the person he kidnapped to the police and putting his home address on the package in the return space.

I assume this is all to prove a point to Mint Chip but the way it’s executed, it just feels like they want to get arrested for doing crime.

This lady comes by and rubs her two brain cells together.

Very good question, lady! Why are these children giving away clothes free to whoever walks by? Why do all these pieces of clothing still have their tags on them, as if they were stolen? Why--

IS THAT A WINTER COAT?! NO MORE QUESTIONS!

Andi assures her she can have the coat and that’s good enough for her.

Andi meets back up with Cyrus and Buffy and they all delight in how nice it is to give people stuff that isn’t yours.

We get a fun montage here of the gang committing crime with smiles on their faces.

Jonah gives answers to three telepaths, who wordlessly asked him questions about the clothing.

Look at these criminals.

Laughing at what they’ve done. Thinking they’ve gotten away with it. Makes me sick.

Bex, meanwhile, arrives home to find Bowie and a package. It’s addressed to both of them and Bex realizes it’s a wedding present. Bowie jumps back like Bex just said the box was full of spiders.

They’re going to have to get one of those bomb disposal robots to come take care of this.

They decide to open it. They’ll return it but have to know who sent it first.

Bowie sees it’s from Celia. She sent it with a beautiful note. They open the box and pull out--

JESUS CHRIST!

An exact recreation of the proposal?! Down to the clothing, hair, and camera angle? How in the world?! I mean, really? Even if they described the scenario to her, HOW?! She even placed the pillows on the couch exactly as they were on the night!

The level of detail on this is haunting.

She even put in the Cat!

This was a really cute idea that’s just unsettling in its execution. This is a supernatural occurrence. This is the kind of thing someone stumbles upon in the attic of spooky house and realizes it contains the trapped the souls of these people inside of it. If you hold your ear to it, you can hear them faintly shouting “Help! Get us out of here!”

Bex and Bowie are far more taken by this display than I am though. Bex gets emotional. She goes to get the Thank You note stationary Celia gave her. Bowie gives her some space to write a message.

Back at the pop-up crime scene, Cyrus approaches Buffy with a shirt. He wants to give it to TJ.

He texts TJ a picture of it. Cyrus hopes TJ will like him it. Buffy asks why not just give it to him, but Cyrus says he’s not sure how much he’d want him it. Buffy’s like, he wouldn’t want a free shirt? Cyrus is like, I don’t know if he’s gay he’d like me giving him a free shirt.

Buffy figures it out. She’s like, you know how you can find out if he’s into you he wants a free shirt? Go for it Give him the shirt. Maybe it’ll mean something to him, or maybe it won’t, but either way it’s a nice thing to do. Cyrus agrees.

TJ texts back at that moment.

No, he gives the shirt a thumbs up. Cyrus invites him to the crime show he and his friends are putting on, but TJ tells him he’s at the park.

Cyrus wonders what that means. Buffy tells him it’s that he wants to meet him. Cyrus waffles on whether to bring the shirt.

Yeah, I mean, the shirt’s a thing now, you gotta bring the shirt.

At the park, Kira wants to know who TJ’s texting with. He tells her no one and suggests they go feed the ducks. Kira suggests they go on the swings first. TJ’s like, are you sure I can’t interest you in some ducks? But she wants to swing.

TJ resists but Kira persists. She taunts him that he can’t swing as high as she can. That works, somehow.

Guess his competitive spirit is such that all you have to do to get him to do something is say he can’t.

“I don’t want to give you a piggyback.”

“Why, ‘cause you can’t?”

“Get on my back! But I swear I’m not getting on the swings.”

“Because you don’t know how to swing?”

“Get out of my way, I’m getting on them swings!”

Boy, if either Reed or Lester had figured out this weak spot, they could’ve just said “Bet you can’t not say anything to the police about this gun, chicken!” and they’d be running free somewhere right now instead of locked up in supermax.

So TJ gets on the swings, just in time for Cyrus to come walking by and see.

Heartbroken at seeing his crush being heterosexual in public, Cyrus takes his shirt and does a sad Charlie Brown walk away.

He looks back first though.

Which, as we know, indicates he likes TJ, though it feels kinda superfluous because it’s following an episode where he was watching TJ from afar, being jealous that TJ was hanging out with someone else, and getting TJ a gift for no reason other than he thought it would look good with his eyes. Yeah, man, we get it. You like TJ.

Cyrus returns to the theft shop. Buffy asks him what happened and he tells her he found TJ with Kira.

Buffy promises him it won’t last, but Cyrus is like even if it does... he’s still straight, though.

Buffy asks him what he’s going to do with the shirt. Cyrus decides to give it to the last straight boy he crushed over. He asks Jonah if he wants it.

I know that this is more to complete a metaphor of sorts, but Jonah has to know that’s one of the shirts they pulled out of the dumpster, right? He’s like, oh, this is awesome, where’d you get it? The trashcan, Jonah. With you. Last night. We’ve been giving them away all day. There’s eight more over there on the rack.

Andi shows up and is like, it’s weird no one got mad at us for this whole thing, right? And Jonah’s like, oh yeah, someone came by and asked a lot of questions about it and I told her everything!

They’re like, no, you shouldn’t have done that. Which, I mean, yeah. He needs to keep his mouth shut. That’s the first rule of crime doing. But in fairness to him, what was this plan anyway? If someone came around asking, what answers were they planning on giving that wouldn’t implicate them in wrongdoing?

They don’t have time to think about that because a cop shows up. Andi tells everyone to stay calm, because they didn’t do anything wrong, but Buffy’s like, we might have. Bet we feel foolish we didn’t stop for a quick Google before all this, huh?

Officer Penn, a.k.a. Budget Clint Eastwood, wants to see their permit, but they say they’re not selling anything, so no permit necessary. Budget Clint Eastwood then tears through their legal arguments fairly quickly.

They say Mint Chip is a store that destroys the clothes they don’t sell and if you really think about it, isn’t that the real crime?

No. No, it’s not. Garbage theft is the real crime. Garbage theft. Officer Penn hauls four children off to jail.

Vivian the Winter Coat Lady, meanwhile, walks into Cloud 10 to look around. Celia compliments her winter coat. Vivian thanks her, saying she just got it under mysterious circumstances, but didn’t bother asking any questions.

In fact, all she really wants to do is go back and get more clothes under mysterious circumstances.

Bex pulls Celia over and tells her she loved the wedding present. She gives her an envelope full of thank you notes she started and stopped because she couldn’t put into words all her feelings.

But Celia is still pretty cold about all this. Bex wants to know how long it’ll take to be forgiven.

Can I knock it down to two if I run some errands for you? Take you to the airport or something?

Bex’s phone buzzes. It’s someone calling from jail, telling her they have her daughter. Bex panics. Celia steps up.

Looks like Andi’s going to have to bring them back together once again. They head off for jail.

The episode ends and then we get a sneak peek at the main title sequence of the spinoff show featuring the Good Hair Crew and Jonah in prison.

Andi Mack: Lockup, coming this fall.

#Andi Mack #Cyrus Goodman #Buffy Driscoll #TJ Kippen #Jonah Beck #Bex Mack #Bowie Quinn #Celia Mack #Kira #Vivian the Winter Coat Lady #Officer Penn #episode recaps

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jedifighterpilot2727 · 5 years

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The Rook

After Lex reveals Kara's secret identity, Lena thinks she's fine - until she's not. The one person she trusted implicitly has betrayed her trust, and she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to believe in people again.

It's a tough lesson, but some things you just can't live without.

AKA - the angsty post S4 fic where Lena experiences heartbreak and anger as well as discovers the meaning of true love.

"I don't want to kill Supergirl, I just want her to experience the same hurt she inflicted on me."

*Hides behind rock* I know, it's been like 5 months, and I'm sorry! The book is still chugging along, but after seeing the SG trailer at SDCC I had to write something! Cue angst, heartbreak and devastating loss (with a happy ending of course!) Buckle in y'all, it's gonna get worse before it gets better!

Oh! and every chapter has a song to fit the mood! First up is "Nothing Breaks Like a Heart" by Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus.

Nothing Breaks Like a Heart

Numb.

Lena’s not exactly sure how else to describe it.

The feeling in her chest that spreads out to her finger tips, the heavy, sinking feeling that makes her feel like she drowning.

She not unfamiliar with the feeling.

Quite the opposite, actually.

She’s spent the majority of her life near suffocation from the choking feelings of inadequacy and betrayal.

Practically from the start of her time with the Luthors, she’d been judged and ridiculed and left on the outskirts.

Maybe not overtly, but certainly purposefully.

She knows without a doubt that Lilian orchestrated most of her young life in order to maximize feelings of ‘less than’.

Whatever she had done to gain the Luthor Matron’s ire had occurred long before she set foot in the Luthor Mansion.

Regardless, of the reason, she dealt with the consequences for years - long days at various different lessons, Irish boarding school, hard pressure to get early acceptance into MIT. Even once she had graduated and was doing ground breaking experimental work with Jack, Lilian’s glare was a constant presence over her shoulder.

It became even worse once she took over L Corp - doubly so. Nothing she ever did lived up to Lex’s legend, and she certainly never bowed to the Luthor agenda.

She had finally caved to Lilian’s pressure, hoping to do something to gain her mother’s approval - an alien detection device, one that would allow regular citizens to tell if the people they were interacting with aliens disguised as humans.

She was so confident that the device would win over Lilian’s good will, that she would finally live up to the Luthor name, (without being a murdering psychopath).

But then, something had happened, something that had made her realize that maybe she didn’t need to toe the line of xenophobia to gain the approval she was seeking.

Her entire world had turned upside down the day that Kara Danvers had walked in her office, offering a kind rebuke at the alien detection device.

Suddenly, her entire world had shifted.

Her desire for Lilian’s approval wasn’t gone, but now it paled in comparison to the need for Kara’s. (Maybe that was a stupid reason to nix a million dollar project and piss off investors, but it sounds better that saying a pretty girl made her do it.)

And unlike Lilian’s approval, Kara’s was easily given.

Nearly anything she did was met with unwavering approval, and unfaltering enthusiasm.

It was like crack, honestly, having someone who supported her and believed in her like Kara. Every time something came up that she thought would finally shake Kara’s trust, it backfired in the exact opposite direction.

Evidence shows that she’s stealing Kryptonite?

Kara stands up for her.

Evidence shows that she’s poisoning little kids?

Kara stands up for her.

Even when she hides Sam’s condition from Kara’s . . . friend, Supergirl -

Kara stands up for her.

It’s intoxicating, and it has nothing to do with Kara’s perfect hair and beautiful smile.

it has nothing to do with how Kara brings her donuts during Lilian’s trial.

It has nothing to do with how she always smiles at Lena, even in the face of Supergirl’s disapproving pout.

And it definitely has nothing to do with the way Kara smells when she wraps an arm around Lena and solemnly promises to always be there for her.

It’s just nice, to be supported and believed in for once in her life.

It’s even more nice to have a self-proclaimed best friend that stands by her no matter what

(It does help that Lena has a huge, gigantic, undeniable crush on said best friend.)

But it’s not like she can say anything.

There’s no way that sweet, charming, beautiful, sometimes trips over her own words Kara would ever feel the same way about Lena.

It’s a statistical improbability,

Which is exactly why Lena suffers through lunches and game nights and a few too close to be just friendly hugs.

Kara’s friendship is enough, she shouldn’t want more. Kara is already so much better than anything she ever dreamed of having, she isn’t going to risk what they have by confessing something as inconvenient as feelings.

So she shoves her feelings away in a little box, and refuses to acknowledge them. Just like she refuses to acknowledge that her best friend looks a lot like the girl of steel.

She over compensates, almost to the point of hilarity; pushing Kara behind her in dangerous situations, insisting on being mad at her alter ego while still cozying up to her favorite reporter.

It’s stupid, but it somehow works in her brain. Allows her to ignore the fact that her best friend in the entire universe is also maybe, sort of, definitely Supergirl.

(It also allows her to ignore that Kara hasn’t told her said fact.)

It hurts, in a weird way, knowing that Kara is keeping something so important from her. But just like the facts, she puts that in a little box and ignores it too.

At least, until it all comes crashing down.

Lex, the goddamn bastard, couldn’t be good for anything, not even in death.

And if Lena feels like shit for thinking such a thing, she feels even worse knowing that what he’s telling her is true.

All of her little boxes come flying open, and they refuse to be closed again, no matter how hard she tries.

Kara’s identity, all the feelings of inadequacy and rejection, her burning desire for belonging and family - all of it comes rushing to the surface.

She tries to fight it, she does, but it feels unavoidable as it all comes crashing down around her.

Kara, her best friend, is Supergirl.

She was blind not to see it before, really.

She blames it on the little boxes.

Now though, she can’t deny it.

Kara is Supergirl.

And it hurts, somewhere deep in her chest.

Some part of her recognizes it as those feelings of inadequacy and unbelonging that belong to Lilian. Only now it’s her best friend making her feel that way. The person that promised to always be in her corner and have her back.

It’s almost debilitating.

She tries so hard to shove that in a little box too, but it doesn’t work. If anything, it backfires.

”You're with me, right?” Kara asks her on game night, and Lena stamps a foot down on the little box threatening to fly open - bile biting at the back of her throat.

“Always.”

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It all comes crashing down a week later when Kara finally confronts her.

“Lena?” Kara asks, and Lena freezes, sensing the trepidation in her voice.

“No, you don’t have anything in your teeth.” She teases, trying to belay the way her heart rate doubles.

“No, I know, I just . . . “

“What?” Lena asks, voice calm but her heart racing.

“i just . . . I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I never really had the chance. Well, I mean I did, but Alex said . . . What I’m trying to say is -“

“Don’t.” Lena tells her, surprised at the firmness in her voice.

“Lena, I have to . . .”

Their eyes lock, and Lena shivers. So much for little boxes.

“I’m . . .” Kara reaches for her glasses.

“Kara . . .”

“I’m Supergirl.” Kara finishes weakly, her hands trembling as they lower her glasses to her side.

“Kara.” she chokes out. “Don’t.”

“Lena - “ Kara starts to explain, but Lena ignores her.

Kara looks so incredibly sad, eyes welling up with tears and the muscles in her neck trembling.

“I know. I know all about your little secret.” Lena swallows hard, fighting back the tears. “You know why? Because Lex told me. I didn’t get to find out from you, or Alex; no, I got to find out from my homicidal brother. I suppose I was stupid for not seeing it before - naive to think that the most important person in my life wouldn’t hide something like that from me. I guess I was wrong, I’m just a fool.” She bites out the words, putting as much of her frustration into them as she can.

She may not be able to hurt Kara physically, but emotionally?

After a lifetime of living with Lilian?

That she can do.

“Lena, I didn’t do it to hurt you -“

“Really?” Lena scoffs, choking back tears. “Then why do I feel like you’ve taken a knife and stabbed it into my heart?”

Kara’s eyes look so full of remorse that Lena almost caves.

“I never meant to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

“Oh, then what was your master plan? I’d love to hear it.”

“Lena . . .” Kara’s upper lip trembles.

“Literally everyone around you knew, except me.” Lena goads. “What exactly was your point? Other than to prove just how untrustworthy Luthors are?”

“No! I would never! Lena, I trust you more than anyone; maybe even more than Alex, that’s why I had to -“

“That’s why you had to lie to me?” Lena interjects, unwilling to let Kara finish her sentence.

“I didn’t want to lie to you!”

“Then why did you?!”

They stare at each other - an unstoppable force and an immovable object - the tension nearly crackling the air between them.

Finally, the unstoppable force causes the object to move, and Kara speaks.

“Because when I first met you . . . you were . . . are the most beautiful woman I’d ever met.”

Lena’s heart jumps in her throat at Kara’s words, because surely she doesn’t mean them like that.

And I didn’t know if it was clouding my judgment, because Clark was so sure that you were just like your brother. But I refused to judge you on your family, and the next thing I knew, you were my best friend.” Her voice chokes off, and Lena forces herself to look away.

“You are my best friend,” Kara corrects herself. “And I didn’t want to screw it up. No one’s ever wanted to be my best friend before - besides Alex, I guess, and in the beginning that was only because she had to. But you,” she laughs softly. “you were so fiercely in my corner, about everything; being a reporter, CatCo, Mon-el being a jerk . . . I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that. And I wanted to be the same for you, because you deserve it. “

“If I deserve you standing up for me, then why couldn’t you just tell me who you really are?”

“Because - “ Kara huffs. “Because, okay, maybe for the first few weeks I was worried that you might turn on me because of your brother. But then I . . . I was selfish. Because you were the only person that I could be 'just Kara' around. I didn’t have to worry about being Supergirl. And then, the longer it went on, I knew that I should tell you, I knew you would be so upset when you found out and I couldn’t stand to hurt you like that. . . . I was afraid that you’d never forgive me.”

“Why do you even care? I’m just a Luthor, right.”

She’s prodding Kara to a more direct answer, she knows it, but she never expects what comes out of the other woman’s mouth.

“Because I love you, okay?” Kara’s eyes fill with tears as Lena’s heart jumps in her throat.

"And maybe there was some part of me that hoped that I could keep bringing you lunch and you’d keep sending me flowers and maybe I could pretend that you love me too. And I’m sorry that I hurt you, and that you found out the way you did; just know that I would take it all back if I could. I would tell you myself, even if it meant you would hate me.”

“Kara . . . “ she knows deep down that she can never hate Kara, no matter how much she wants to. “You don’t get to say that you love me just to get me to stop being mad at you.��

“I’m not.” Kara vows fiercely. “But if we’re laying all our cards out on the table, I thought that you should know. I love your passion, I love your fire. I love the fact that you always stand up for what you think is right - even if it differs from what I think. I love that you throw yourself into your work, and I hate the fact that you forget to eat. I love that you pour your heart and soul into the children’s hospital and that you refuse to let anything stop that. I love how snuggly you get after a couple of glasses of wine, but I hate how self deprecating you get. I just want you to see you the way that I see you, and I was afraid that you knowing I’m Supergirl would hurt that. I guess I hoped that deep down, you loved me too. And I don’t know what my game plan was for that, or where I hoped we would end up -“

“Kara!” Lena chokes it out, barely able to keep the tears from falling down her cheeks.

“Lena, I just -“

“Don’t.” She says for the third time that night, desperate to stop the words coming from Kara’s mouth.

“I had to let you know how I felt, I know it’s bad timing, but I had to tell you the truth. I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Tears track down Kara’s face, but still, Lena stays strong, brushing past her and heading for the exit.

“Lena -“

It takes everything Lena has to ignore her, and move to the door.

* - - - - - - - -

Ever since Lex told her about Kara’s identity, she’s been in a fog.

She thought that it would get better once she had a chance to confront Kara.

What she didn’t expect was Kara’s . . . confession. It throws her for a loop, one she hadn’t seen coming in a million years. It should have made her ecstatic, it would have made her ecstatic in any other circumstance, but now it just leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

Of course Kara would pick the middle of her Supergirl reveal to spill out her heart, of course.

It fits so well with the Kara she knows and loves. That she would be so open and vulnerable that she would decide to lay her whole heart on the line.

Lena loves it, but she hates it.

Every part of her is screaming that Kara is just manipulating her, the same way she’s been manipulated for her entire life - bribed with love and affection.

She refuses to fall into the old trap again.

She is a strong independent woman, and she doesn’t need someone else to complete her.

And it’s true, she knows it’s true.

She doesn’t need anyone.

But it doesn’t help that she wants Kara.

She ignores every text, every call; she even tells Jess to revoke Kara’s unlimited access to her office (and she’s met with a giant frown and a questioning glare that she knows she’s going to have to answer to later).

But still, when her stomach growls sometime after one, she wishes that Kara’s smiling face was bopping through her door, waving a sack of takeout.

Even minus the lunches, she misses Kara.

Which is why she finds herself stretching and heading to her office door - maybe she can ask Jess to order food and convince her that it wouldn’t be weird to eat lunch with her boss.

Only when she asks Jess to order out, the other woman looks at her . . . strangely.

“What?”

“I uh, already ate.” Jess says almost guiltily.

“Oh. Did you happen to order anything for me?” Lena tries to sound as nonchalant as possible, but it still comes out almost whiney. Before Kara, Jess always made sure to order lunch for Lena, even if she knew she wouldn’t eat it.

“Uhh, I uhh, didn’t order out.” Jess’ eyes flicker to the mini fridge under her desk.

“Oh, ok.” Lena lets it drop, obviously Jess doesn't it want to talk about it.

Maybe she has a new crush that brought her lunch and she isn’t ready to talk about it. Filing the information away for later, she shrugs.

“Could I get you to order me something then? Maybe an apple walnut salad from Noonan’s? I’ve been craving one lately.”

Jess’ eyes go back to the mini fridge, and Lena leans over the desk to stare at it as well.

“Is there something in there I should know about?” She asks, her mind immediately going to a bomb; and it’s so twisted that a bomb is the first thing she thinks of being stored in a mini fridge of all places, but it’s not the oddest -

“Kara!” Jess blurts, and Lena shifts her gaze back to her assistant.

“Kara’s in the mini fridge?”

“No.” Jess sighs. “Kara brought you lunch, and it’s in there. I know you said specifically that you didn’t want to see her or hear from her, so I didn’t want to tell you about it, but she insisted that I take it, and you know how persistent she can be!”

“So when you said you already ate . . .”

“She brought me broccoli cheddar soup, and you know that’s my favorite and I should have just ordered out but -“

“Jess - “ Lena placates her with a warm smile that’s only half forced. “Just because I’m not speaking to Kara doesn’t mean you can’t. Besides, it was broccoli cheddar soup.”

“Your lunch is still in there if you want it?” Jess offers, gesturing to the mini fridge.

“Oh, I’m not really that hungry, I forgot I had a big breakfast.” It’s a lie, she hasn’t eaten since lunch the day before; and her stomach quickly betrays her with loud growl.

Jess raises her eyebrows pointedly before reaching to the fridge and taking out a container and passing it to Lena.

It’s an apple walnut salad from Noonan’s, with a folded note taped to the front.

Of course.

“Really, I’ll just wait til dinner. . .” Lena protests weakly, her stomach fighting hard against her stubborn will.

“If she asks, I’ll tell her I threw it in the garbage and you never even saw it.”

Lena narrows her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll eat it, but if she asks, tell her you gave it to me and I threw it in the garbage.”

“Whatever you say, boss, whatever you say."

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #fanfiction

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stillsurfing · 4 years

Text

So, I did a little fanfic based on the below amazing fanfic by fulaninha. It’s my first try at writing anything

Round One - AU fic

Dele looked back at Eric who was leaning against the death tra- motorcycle. The motorcycle. Although he didn’t like the journey, he had to admit that being pressed against Eric’s back for the ride in public and without the fear of being scrutinised was wonderful. They were more affectionate with each other in public all the time now but it still didn’t stop a thrill jolting through Dele’s body every single time it happened. He hope he never stopped feeling that way.

He took a quick snap of Eric leaning against the motorcycle with the view behind. With the sun hitting him like that, he was beautiful. He was always beautiful. His heart gave a little twinge, Dele wanted Eric to join him closer to the water but he wouldn’t ask. Dele’s grin twitched up, it was only a matter of time, he was confident that Eric wouldn’t be able to resist him for long.

Dele’s phone gave a little beep and a notification dropped down over the picture he was taking

DUOLINGO WORD OF THE DAY

Dele grinned and swiped down. He’d never learned a language before but he was getting better at Portuguese and he was feeling proud of himself, the same kind of feeling as when he attempted a trick shot or a successful nutmeg. He often didn’t remember the words of the day but he figured that every little helps.

“CASAR.. this word in Portuguese translates t… READ MORE” Dele’s stomach did a strange swoop. He felt as though he’d heard that word before but he couldn’t think why. Maybe it was when Eric was talking to his dogs? He quickly swiped along the message to get the full meaning

CASAR this word in Portuguese translates to MARRY. See also desposar, unir, dar em casamento, casar-se

Dele’s heart started racing. His breath increasing. His nerves tingling. He knew exactly when he had heard that word before and the realisation was like a truck hitting him… his brain seemed to have completely shut down while he was thinking of the implications. It was so long ago, how could Eric have kept this inside him all this time?

At that moment a hand wound around his own and Dele’s heartbeat picked up again. Surely it couldn’t get any quicker. Eric grabbed Dele’s chin and tilted his face up to lock their eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been stock still staring at your phone for 10 minutes now.”

Dele frowned and blinked. 10 Minutes? Dele glanced down at his phone still in his outstretched hand. The phone screen was black and the phone locked. He frowned again. Gulped. Dele had no idea how to approach this now that he had this knowledge. He had no idea what to say to Eric. Should he tell him? Should he try and remember the rest of the phrase before broaching the subject? Should he just forget the whole thing and see what happens in the future? It was probably a spur of the moment thing. It was a spur of the moment thing. He’s not said those words to Dele since. Dele glanced back up at Eric who was fully frowning now and looking worried.

“Dele? Del-boy? You alright?”

The use of his playful nickname made something inside Dele suddenly thrum with a happy thrill. He thought of all the times he and Eric had spent together and all the playful times he’d used that nickname. He thought about the depth of feeling that he had for this man standing in front of him. He knew how he felt about Eric and he knew how Eric felt about him...even all that time ago at the Euros...apparently Eric knew what he wanted. He allowed his body feel every positive emotion that was coursing through him and dropped his doubts and fears. They’re useless anyway. He suddenly felt mischievous.

Dele nodded at Eric’s question and quirked his grin up on one side of his face.

“I’m good, Eric. Really good. So…” He put his phone in his pocket and laced their fingers together and looked out at the ocean. Even now, every time he sees the sea it reminds him of Eric putting that starfish in the sea back in Porthcurno. The way he felt watching him. That’s why he likes the clear water, he’s always trying to recapture the feel of that beach, no matter what country they’re in.

“So you know… I was on duolingo today…”

Eric sighed “You know you shouldn’t use that!”

Dele chuckled and smiled “I wouldn't have to use it if someone had a little more patience and could teach me”

Eric looked slightly dazed and Dele knew exactly why, it’s because he had looked in his eyes while smiling and laughing. It was still incredibly entertaining that he had that effect on Eric after all these years. Eric leaned in but Dele backed away from his approach quickly, he needed to get this out and see what happens. He was too impatient even to kiss Eric which was new.

“Anyway, stop interrupting me. I was on Duolingo today and the word of the day was one which I'm sure I've heard before…” Dele teased “but I can't quite think where. Do you want to know what it is, perhaps you can help?”

Dele studied Eric’s face. His pupils dilate - from fear? Excitement? And of course, of course, Eric blushes bright red. But that doesn’t mean too much, Eric is always blushing.

Dele smiles again as he sees Eric’s throat tense and his Adam’s apple bob. God, that Adam’s apple. Dele is slightly obsessed with it.

“What’s the word?” Eric whispers. He’s edged closer to Dele again and is staring into his eyes like they’re the only things that are keeping him tethered to this earth. When Eric looks at him like that Dele feels like he is the only person on earth and suddenly the mood changes and his heart ramps up the hammering again. Perhaps he shouldn’t have teased Eric like this. Perhaps he shouldn’t have bought it up.

Dele swallows and feels his own throat constricting, the teasing tone he was using before completely forgotten with the look in Eric’s eyes. They’re moving closer, the magnetised feeling that is always between them increasing. As Dele attempts to speak they are nearly touching foreheads, bodies leaned into each other. Dele takes a breath -

“Casar. The word... is Casar.” he whispers.

He feels Eric’s hand spasm into a tight grip and he’s still gazing at Dele with that look in his eyes.

Dele shifts a millimeter closer so their heads are touching “you said that to me once” he whispers into Erics mouth, their breaths intertwining. “I remember”

Eric keeps his eyes on Dele’s and slowly and purposefully Eric drops to one knee, still with his hands in Dele’s.

Dele gasps, completely taken by surprise. Yes, he thought they might talk about what Eric said before but never in a million years did he think that this would happen.

Eric continues to look at Dele straight in the eye “Eu... eu acho que vou casar contigo. Acho que vou me casar com você, se você me quiser. Dele, quer se casar comigo?”

Eric lets go of Dele’s hands and he pulls out from his pocket a small velvet box. What the hell? Eric smiles at whatever expression Dele’s face is pulling and clears his throat, switching back to English.

“I was going to propose to you today, when we got to the end of our journey at sunset but… this… this seems like fate.”

Eric opens the box and there is a simple silver band inside. Dele’s heart is hammering in his ears, he feels as though he will never speak again he is so full of emotion. Eric is still on one knee in front of Dele and Dele is gazing down at him completely awed.

Eric laughs and teases “Erm, I’ll say it in English and perhaps then i’ll get an answer?” Eric takes a deep breath and that Adam's apple bobs again. Dele’s heart does another twinge “Dele, I love you so much and I want to show everyone that I will love you forever. Will you marry me?” he smiles “Casar - to marry”

For the second time that day, realisation slams into Dele and he suddenly finds his voice “Sim...Sim meu amor.”

Eric grins and then starts laughing as he stands and Dele feels Eric’s arms embrace him into a slow, deep and warm kiss. Dele tries to push all the emotions he’s feeling into the kiss and Dele finally pulls back and tries to catch his breath.

Eric smiles at him and lays his forehead on Dele’s own. “I thought you would never speak again!”. Dele gazes into Eric’s eyes again and then lets his gaze flicker down to the box in Eric’s hand. His heart stutters

“Can I… Can I put it on?”

Eric smiles and once again drops to one knee taking Dele’s left hand in his own. Dele watches as Eric snaps open the box and takes out the ring. He locks his gaze with Dele before switching it back to Deles hand as his slowly pushes the ring on. Dele is awed at the look on ERic’s face as he stares at the hand now wearing a ring. There is so much meaning in a small band of metal. He looks proud, happy and excited. Dele is sure that his face reflects the same emotions. Eric stands up and pulls them together again in another slow and deep embrace. Dele’s hands are on Eric’s face and he can feel the dampness of tears on Eric’s cheeks. He can feel the stinging at the corner of his own eyes and knows he is probably also crying.

“I love you” Eric says between kisses

“I love you”. Dele replies.

The waves continue crashing as they remain together.

They sit to watch the sun setting. Dele pulls takes the ring off to look at it again. He can’t believe what happened today. He has never felt so elated, never. No goal scored will ever feel like this. He looks at the ring in his hand and realises there is an inscription on the inside of the ring “Audere est Facer”. Dele laughs. He knows the Tottenham motto ‘Audere est Facer’ the latin for ‘To Dare Is To Do’

“Eric, that is so cheesy”

Eric laughs too. “I know but I always wanted to give you a ring with an inscription on the inside and it just seemed right. To remind us of our time together at Tottenham. And how we dared to take the steps to be with each other no matter what people would think. I don’t say this very often but you were so brave. We were so brave.”

Dele takes one last look at the inscription and slides the ring back on his finger where it will never leave. He leans in and kisses Eric as the sun dips below the horizon.

#fanfic #fanfiction #tottenham #tottenham hotspur #thfc #dele alli #eric dier #england football #three lions #football #football rpf #fulaninha #aoc #ao3 #fluff #spurs

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otakween · 5 years

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Parasite Eve (The Novel) - Review

And now, for something completely different. I realized that with my main Project Alpha (watching all anime in alphabetical order) I would be missing out on somethings that don’t have anime but are still otaku related. Therefore, I will be doing two side projects for A. video games that don’t have anime and B. manga that don’t have anime. I’ll probably add other projects as I go.

First game alphabetically on my list for video games is Parasite Eve (thanks to 3rd Birthday). Turns out, the game is actually a sequel to a novel. Instead of reading it and then writing a review, I decided to review as-I-go so this post will be pretty lengthy.

Thoughts:

Part 1 Prologue & Development)

-The vibes I’m getting from this are Frankenstein combined with Junji Ito (yes, I know he adapted that recently). The mysterious heat thing feels distinctly J-horror. Maybe because they’re so into body horror?

-I’m still not sure if “Parasite Eve” is supposed to refer to a woman or an event. Maybe that’s the point?

-So main “villain” is kind of omnipresent microorganism who can control minds? I hope they explain how it works eventually

-Holy research, Batman! All of the medical and scientific scenes are really impressive to me. They feel like they were written by a real doctor. I want a “making of” feature lol.

-Creepiest bits so far are the opening car accident (reminded me of Bird Box a little) and the extremely in-depth surgery descriptions definitely had me feeling squeamish

-The characters already feel well-developed and distinct. I can tell because I’m having no trouble remembering their names lol

-I know it’s all medical necessity but the transplant scenes did feel very violating. It was also creepy that the author chose to describe a braindead woman’s body in vaguely sexual terms

-The politics about braindead bodies in Japan vs. America adds a really interesting layer to the story. Also, the feelings of people who experience failed transplants. These are both things I had never really considered. It’s attention to detail like this that makes this story feel more realistic and immersive.

-I’m wondering how the “villain” will manifest herself? Is it going to be like Tomie where she grows put of the organs? Is she going to possess the donors or become a clone of Kiyomi. We’ll see!

Part 2 (Symbiosis)

-Okay, now I have a much better idea of how “Eve” works. The descriptions of her taking over her host’s body and mind were nice and creepy. The horror of the situation is that it’s not really something you could report or ask for help without seeming crazy and being locked up or put on drugs.

-I said the first part reminded me of Junji Ito and Frankenstein. This second part reminded me of Get Out, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and Saya no Uta. I guess I could throw in Brain on Fire as well with all the memory lapses.

-I much prefer the subtle horror of the novel to the monster-attack style horror. I found the scene where Asakura is attacked by Eve just felt really cheesy. It was one of those horror scenes where the victim is being attacked by a very slow moving creature and they probably could have escaped like a million times. Her immediately kneeling down on a mug she shattered also felt pretty silly.

-So Eve is mitochondria? I guess? And she’s existed since the beginning of time but needed science to progress to where it is today to help her evolve. That’s creative but pretty out there. It’s confusing because she obviously has to be more than one mitochondrion at once and she also refers to other mitochondrion as her sisters even though they both came from Kiyomi. I guess I’ll just try not to overthink things…

-Things suddenly got very sexual at the end of part 2 and I cannot unsee certain things D: I’m not really sure what Eve’s end goal is here. Is it just to be all yandere for Toshiaki or does she want to take over the world as a new species or something?

-I really enjoy how much insight we’re getting into Mariko and Kiyomi’s characters. Horror is always more effective when you care about the characters and understand who they were before everything went wrong.

-Pretty stupid of Mariko to not take her pills, it’s kinda hard to see her side of things on that one. It’s interesting to see her dad and the doctor grappling with this trouble child.When they called her behavior “autistic” it was kind of jarring though. Not sure how I feel about that.

Part 3 (Evolution)

-Oh…OH. Okay. I was warned that this book is trippy and this is where stuff starts to go DOWN. Where’s my brain bleach…

-F’real though, the 3rd part was basically nonstop madness and body horror. I was on the edge of my seat but also cringing throughout the whole thing. I must have been quite the sight reading this on the train, I could just feel my eyes widening at some of the more out-there scenes.

-So it gets extremely sexual and there’s some rape going on which of course is always hard to read. It makes sense for the plot tho so I was ok with it. Logically, Eve 1 would need to “evolve” through reproducing. Some of the descriptions made me kind of side-eye the author tho like “Are you enjoying this a little too much?” I dunno. it was just a lot.

-Really intense body horror. The descriptions of people slowly dying by fire were especially lovingly crafted (lol). I liked that they explained the logic behind mitochondria having that ability and compared it to spontaneous human combustion

-Team Toshiaki was pretty badass at the end there, working together to save Mariko. I’d be on the next plane out of the country lol

-I’m glad Toshiaki was redeemed in the end. It’s not like he really did anything wrong since he was basically brainwashed.

-I wonder if any book characters will appear in the games? I don’t know how far apart the stories are but it would be fun to get some cameos. I wanna see Mariko come back for revenge lol

-What crazy person thought this would make a good video game??? I mean, good for them, but if I didn’t know already about the franchise I would not be reading this thinking “mm yeah. Awesome game material right here.” It’s mainly science and practically all-powerful mitochondria monsters. And you fight those with guns or something? Okaaay…

Epilogue

-Dang! Major jealousy feels. I wish I was graduating grad school rn (but 6 years…damn. I could never be a research student).

-Of course it ends with a super complicated scientific explanation. I’m really glad it did though. I didn’t really understand what was going on with the male-female thing.

-Typical horror movie sting foreshadowing sequels at the end. Creeeeepy.

-It’s pretty hilarious how Asakura is like “man, what a year amirite??” YOU CAUGHT FIRE AND WERE ATTACKED BY A MITOCHONDRIA BLOB THAT KILLED YOUR MENTOR!

-Oh snap. The book has a bibliography. Mad props to the author who of course has his PhD in pharmacology. It’s always great when super smart people create something like this for us plebes.

I’m super glad I read this! I don’t read a ton of horror (even though I’m a big horror movie fan) and this was a great re-introduction into the genre. Although I found it a little over-the-top at times (borderline cheesy) it was super smartly written and refreshingly original. I can’t wait to see what the rest of the franchise has in store for me!

I give Parasite Eve a 8.5 out of 10

#parasite eve #novel #review #books

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