rematerialized

Prompt: We’re hiding from the authorities and it’s very close quarters in here, I can feel your body against mine.

Pairing: Space Husbands

Requested by @watercolourstains! Thanks, hon! This was super fun to write! Cliche in literally every possible way and I don’t even give a damn.


Under nearly all circumstances, Spock avoided physical contact. It was a well-established preference that each member of the crew respected. Including the single exception to that rule. Though Spock never minded when Jim, in a moment of distraction, placed a hand on his shoulder or took his wrist to guide him, Jim always apologized for those missteps and did his best not to repeat them. In spite of the fact that Spock never once told him to stop. In fact, Spock rather looked forward to those few instances of breached boundaries. It was the closest he ever came to Jim, and he had long come to terms with the fact that he wanted desperately to be closer to Jim.

So Jim’s mumbled apology now was considerate, if unnecessary. It wasn’t as though Jim had forced their contact. And– though when Spock contemplated proximity as it applied to he and Jim, a very different kind of closeness came to mind– he supposed that this also satisfied, at least in some respect.

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A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

Fandom: Star Trek AOS.
Pairing: 
Leonard McCoy X Reader.
Prompt: Stop talking about love for a minute and help me with this bullet wound.” For @kaitymccoy123‘s Spring has Sprung challenge.
Word Count: 1514.
Warnings:
minor description of a bullet wound, a little bit of blood, mentions of violence.
Rating: Teen+.
Genre: action, fluff.
Summary: An away mission gone awry has reader admitting feelings she wasn’t quite ready to have out in the open yet.
Author’s Note: The title is a play on the old expression of biblical origin for something that’s not as it appears.  This was hastily written and I feel like it felt a lot better in my head than it does on paper, but I hope you enjoy it, loves!  Especially you, Kaity dearest!


A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

Everything around you has long since faded away.  Your world is reduced to the immediate bubble of space around your body as you pace nervously back and forth in the wake of a firefight that’s left the guards who’d chased you and Dr. McCoy out of town out of ammo and far behind.

It was supposed to be a peaceful, run-of-the-mill supply drop off for the town’s medical clinic.  Starfleet had never had problems with this planet’s people before, and so you the captain had decided a security detail wasn’t necessary.  A doctor and nurse were plenty for the short trip down, he’d said, and so you’d come along on his orders.

You supposed it wasn’t Jim’s fault that female crew members had always historically come down in dress uniforms and that they didn’t appreciate how short your dress was.  It also wasn’t his fault that they had reacted with violence against your sacrilege.  You were the one feeling personally responsible for the whole situation now.  Ordinarily you would have changed into a more practical uniform, but because you were only supposed to be planetside for a few minutes to makes the exchange, you’d elected not to waste any time getting into different clothes so you could just get the whole mission over and done with.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

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TrekFest 2017

Four times you fell for Bones, and the one time he fell for you, pt3: The Tempest

Word Count: 1878
Tags: @dolamrothianlady, @supermoonpanda, @kirkaholic123, @shewhorunswithfandoms @youdonebeengarthed, @starmission@emmkolenn@auduna-druitt @outside-the-government @yourtropegirl@pinkamour1588@impalaanddemons @flirtswithdanger@southernbellestatues@engineeringtrashcan @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @samaxraph99


You weren’t sure which came first: the ship’s sudden tilt or the red alert klaxons. Whichever it was, it woke you from a dead sleep, the jolt dropping you to the floor like a sack of bricks. You pushed yourself to your feet just in time for the ship to rock again, knocking you back down onto the bed. 

“Attention all personnel, this is Captain Hamada. We are under attack from a small Klingon squadron. Battle stations.” The Captain’s voice rang over the speaker, her tone clipped and terse. The communicator on your bedside table whistled and you flipped it open.

“Ambassador Y/L/N, please report to the transporter room. We’ve sustained significant damage. Our distress signal has been picked up and we will be within transport range in five minutes,” Captain Hamada sounded just a terse over comm as she did on the shipwide speaker.

“Just give me your orders, Captain, and I’ll ensure they are met.” You pushed yourself back to your feet and collected the files you were transporting. Amongst them were included the plans for a new class of ship, designed by the New Vulcan Science Academy. It was not something you or Starfleet would want captured by the Klingons.

“Just get yourself and those plans off the ship,” Captain Hamada replied. You flipped your comm closed and followed the wall to the exit the room, leaning heavily against the bulkhead to keep your balance all the way to the transporter room. After a few more direct hits to the ship, you finally made it to the transporter, and were immediately directed onto the pad for transport with a number of injured. When you rematerialized, you recognized Lieutenant Commander Scott, and realized you were on the Enterprise. You handed your file bag over to an Ensign.

“Please take that to Captain Kirk’s ready room. I’ll help get these injured people to MedBay,” you directed.

“It’s nice to see you Ambassador, although the circumstances aren’t ideal,” Scotty waved at you as you began to help a bleeding ensign off the transporter pad. You forced yourself to smile to acknowledge him before leading the crewman out to MedBay.


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Anti VS Dark

Mark and Jack wanted to meet up, or maybe it was something subconsciously telling them so.

‘It would be a great idea to meet up with my friend again.’

‘I think it would be best to meet with him privately.’

     But why? They met at PAX, why was Jack so willing to fly out to LA just meet Mark for a bit even when he had to move soon? Why was Mark okay with this? He had videos to make, plans to hang out with his friends. Why so sudden? Unless something, or someone was telling them to.                                     A while back, Mark had mentioned to Jack that maybe one day, if he was in LA and wasn’t busy he would love to film a skit or two with him. Something inside them became too excited, too fidgety, and didn’t want to wait until later. Within a few days, Jack booked a last-minute flight to LA.                                      Inside they stood in a shed where Mark filmed A Date with Markiplier. Today was just practice, they were told get a feel for the script and where to stand etc. Tomorrow they will start filming. Once inside though something clicked inside them. Jack’s extroverted energy started to become too much even for him, he was nervous and giddy. Marks movements began to slow, though not noticeably. He felt calm, but Jacks little comments here and there or the way he hopped around was getting on Mark’s nerves.

“Hey. Come on, would you stop bouncing around so much. I could hardly see you when you move so fast.” Mark chuckled. Jack stopped bouncing side to side from his nerves

“Sorry dude, just a little excited. Probably from the time change or something.” He laughed then. Maybe a little too hard.

“It’s fine, just chill a little, Okay?” Mark responded.

   Then, both the boys looked at each other, silently. Waiting. Both on either side of the shed feeling an unnatural hatred towards the other.

   Jack’s vision starts to blur, feeling electricity in his stomach. Where Mark was standing, he could see a dark, shadowy figure. Blue and red lines edged into cracks and folds of his line of sight. No, please. Not here. Not again.

  Mark however takes a little longer to change. He feels himself uncontrollably narrow his eyes towards Jack, anger rolls off him like hot waves. For a second he feels strange, he doesn’t want to hurt his friend. But somewhere deep down it feels good to hate. To kill.                                                     

No. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the feeling. What was wrong with him. He watches Jack, unable to move. He sees that Jack’s eyes aren’t really focused on anything but the area around him and then they begin to darken.

“Sean? Buddy?” Mark’s voice breaks a little. Something wasn’t right. They shouldn’t have come here, Jack shouldn’t have flown here, something was off about him. Mark began to back up, keeping a close eye on his unmoving friend.                                                                                                                    "What’s wrong Mark?“ Jacks voice seemed to break too, but it unnatural. It sounded different, harsh. He almost didn’t hear it. “Are you-?”

   What? Gone. Jack was gone. Did Mark blink? He couldn’t have, Jack was right there. He was right there in front of him. Frightened, Mark turned away towards the door and started-

   “ Şca͟͝r̷̀ę̵d̵̷?́͞!?̷̡”

   Mark almost didn’t recognize him. He was face to face with a man, a skeleton of a figure. Black eyes stared up at him. He was there, Sean, in front of him, but wasn’t… It was like he was matter. His form was fuzzy, pixelated from the stomach down.                                                                                                      

  “ W HAT THE FUCK?” Mark screamed and backed away. Jacks head cocked uncontrolled to the side, and smiled a chilled grin. “You can stop pretending now Dark, come on, just let him go.”

“S-Sean. Jack. Hey, What the fuck are you doing?”

Anti relaxed his body to disappear again. This was the easy part. What wasn’t the easy part was hearing those stupid blood chilling scream from inside him. Jack lost control, Anti knows that but the sound was consistent, never ending. The imagine of Jack’s suffering made him smile wide, giving him more strength to do what must be done. Regaining his materialized body behind Mark, he pushes him. He easily falls. If he keeps this up, this won’t even be a fight. His head starts to twist controllably from excitement.

Mark feels someone shove him hard, and then he sees black.

Dark wakes up on the ground, in the shed. Finally. He thinks. He gets up slowly and brushes the dirt and rocks from his T-shirt. It’s been a while since was alive. Awake, I should say. He is always alive, always watch from Marks perspective. Mark tries really hard to keep him away. Have to hand it to him.

Dark takes his time to look around. Mmmm. Where was that scrawnyvirus anyway?

“Y̡͟o̶͠u̸͏ ̡̨͘kn̷̡o̶w̷͠ ͞Da̕͠r͘ḱ͠.” Dark looked around. Empty. Static and whispers fill the air. There was a wisp of dark green, a fading crackled laughter, in and out, Feeling the electricity around him. His blood boiled knowing his own best friends Dark 'persona’ was tormenting him. This was going to be fun, if he ever got a hold on him.

“T̕͠híş̵͢ ̸ìs̨͜ ͡t̨ó̡o ̴̛͝ḿ̡͞uc̷̛h̡͜͠ ̸͏̢fun̶.͞ ̴̧I͞͞’m̧͘ ͢sų̕͡r̡̡͟p̴̕r̶͢is̸e̶͘ ͞Į ̛͝di͠͏dn’̡̛́t th̴i͜͞n̶͢ķ̧ ͏ą̸b̨͝ó̵u̧t̴ ̧̨it̸̛ s̷̨oo͠n̡e̛ŕ̵̕.̀͘͠” Dark feels warm breath on his ear, and punches towards the sound. Nothing but cold air. Laughter seemed to bellow around the place.

Dark wraps his hands around his back, curling a fist and laying it in his other hand. He watches Anti disappear and rematerialize around him. Dark rolls his eyes and swiftly walks around the room. No sound, just the soft pats of his shoes. This is what he could do best. Making the least amount of sound as possible. His victims wouldn’t see him coming. He learned from trial and error that louder noises usually made people jump, even if he had gotten to know them for a long time. (Even Mark, who was of the 'kings’ of horror game)                                                                                                                                                          

Dark suddenly felt warm electricity behind him, and like a snake he whipped around again and slammed his hand on Anti throat pinning him to a metal wall behind him. The sound rocked the entire shed. Anti’s eyes were wide with excitement, and grined from ear to ear. ” F́i͘͢͝n̷̨͠a̢l̨͠ly̕͞,“. He laughed. "Ma̛n͝,̀ ̀͝a͟͟n͏̨d̸͜ ̶h͏͘e͠͡r̸̴ę ̀͏͞I ̸t̷̡h́͝o͢u̧ǵ̴͝ht͠ y̨o͞u̢ ̷wér͟ę̛͡ ̸̴̛j͢͡uśt̴͟ ̷͟g̴̴o̴n̡na̢̛͘ ̴̷s̵t͟a͢r͟e̶ a͡t̨ me̡͟ ͜to͘͟ ̢d̡e͏àt̵h̴̸́.”

   Dark’s hand squeezed around Anti throat, not that he had any problems doing this, Marks hands were big enough to easily cover the width of Jack’s throat. Destroy him. Now! The voice was calm, whispering around his head. Warm liquid began to spill from of the top Dark’s hand. And Mark felt a ping of guilt. This was his friend. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t kill his friend.

Behind them, a huge shed door opens and light floods the room. Dark and Anti turn to see a figure interrupting their fun.

“Mark, what the fuck?!?” A voice called. Dark looked back and Anti. No. It wasn’t Anti. The blood, his tear-filled eyes, the pixelated body. He was normal again. Mark’s hand was still crushing Jack’s throat, a shock wave of fear sent his body away from Jack.

“Oh my god.” Mark looked back and Jack, who was silent. A red welt was forming on his throat, then towards the group of people standing in the shed’s door way.

*I kind-of didn’t know where to go with this, sorry if this was anticlimactic. I’m very impatient when I do anything creative. * Inspire by this

Bts Maknae Line + Jhope badboy!au (relationship focus)

I feel like this was less relationship focus and more first date focus, but I hope you guys still like it. Also this is my first post in 794 years, it’s good to be back.

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Jimin

-          FLIRT

-          SHAMELESS

-          Do not look at his Instagram or his snapchat story, please, he has no shame

-          Manages to be a flirt and also a fluff monster, all at the same time…?

-          Like he throws out some ridiculous line and bites his lip, but is also smiling like the actual sun at the same time?? Like stahp boi you’s confuddlin’ me

-          Dances with Jhope and Jungkook

-          Sings sometimes while he goofs off wid’ da’ bois in his really sweet voice

-          Secretly is a wisened old soul, great guy, will divulge to you the secrets of the universe as far as he knows them if ever you ask

-          So he goes to the same small college as you, and everyone kind of knows about him and his rep, so most girls kind of avoid him, and a lot of guys hate him cause he’s a flirt

-          You’ve never really interacted with him, so you have a hesitant view of him just because of all the talk, so you don’t avoid him per say, but you’re also wary

-          Anyways, you’re leaving a class and you’re carrying your last textbook in front of you because it’s hard to squeeze into your backpack, which is about to rip as it is so better not to risk that

-          And you walk outside only to realize that it’s raining kind of hard, so you start rushing to the cafeteria to wait it out, only to run into someone’s shoulder because you were looking down to shield your textbook and your eyes  from the rain

-          With the impact, you drop your textbook and your syllabus and a couple info packets for upcoming projects fall out

-          And the person is like “oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, here”

-          And he helps you pick up your stuff, and when you look up it’s Park Jimin

-          “Come on” He beckons you towards the cafeteria, now only about twenty paces away, and he swings the door open and holds it for you as you rush in

-          He’s carrying half of your stuff, so he hands it to you and apologizes again and he clearly feels really bad because now, look, your textbook is all wet and he knows how much those can cost, and those papers look important

-          But you assure him no no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it, because you weren’t really watching where you were going either

-          So there’s a little pause, and he says” hey, there are some fans up in a storage closet on the second floor of this building, we can use those to dry these out if you want”

-          “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll probably be here for a while anyway, I walked and I don’t have an umbrella, so I’m gonna have to wait this out.”

-          “Yeah, same. Hold on, I’ll be right back”

-          And he disappears up the stairs off in the corner of the room, and then a few minutes later, he materializes again, carrying two fans

-          So you two go over to an outlet, plug in the fans, and get to drying out your papers, and you thank him, and since there’s nothing else to do, you guys get to talking. It’s kind of a small level and there’s not really anywhere upstairs to chill except for empty class rooms, so Jimin grabs himself a coffee and you get yourself one and you guys just chill with your textbook and talk for like forty five minutes before the rain finally goes away

-          And it’s actually kind of great, you don’t understand why everyone is so biased against him, he’s really cool and sweet

-          When the rain clears, you’re a little disappointed, because now you don’t have any excuse to stick around and neither does he, so you two say your goodbyes, and you thank him one last time

-          “see you around” And he waves goodbye

-          “Yeah, you too”

-          And you do

-          You do see him around

-          A week and a half later, you wander into the same café as him at the same time, and he sees you and you see him

-          So you guys kind of smile and wave, and you’re unsure of how to deal with this because you want to go talk to him but that would be weird, right?

-          So you go about ordering your coffee, but a familiar voice says from right behind you “Hers is on me, and add a vanilla latte.”

-          “Huh?”

-          “I was about to leave, so if you don’t want to then just let me know and I’ll go, but I was kind of thinking I’d like to talk to you again, so I figured I’d get us both a drink and I’d stay a little longer.”

-          So that was that

-          He stayed, and you guys talked more, and at the end of it, you traded numbers, and started doing that more often

-          And he always insisted on paying

-          Every time

-          Like there was no way that you were ever paying for your own drink if he was there to do anything about it, and he loved to treat you and get you little gifts because he likes taking care of you

-          And all of his flirt is suddenly channeled at you and only you because he may be shameless, but at least he loyal (and sweet, and cute, and just all around wonderful)

Jungkook

-          Actual badboy

-          Like someone, please smack him with your shoe (just kidding (no really please do it))

-          Knows about his rep and loves it

-          Flirts with everyone from a distance because he looks like kind of a heart throb and he knows it

-          But cannot under any circumstances function if a pretty girl is actually anywhere near him because he freaks out and forgets how to talk and move like a normal human being

-          Is actually a really fun person to be around when he’s not being a cocky brat

-          He acts like he’s above class and all, but he also usually gets there on time and tries on the tests, but he does sit in the back with his feet propped up on a desk

-          So he walks in the first day of senior year, and you’ve just transferred to his school so you’re sitting in the front row all ready to take notes and be a good student and all that jazz and he’s swaggering in with his idgaf attitude as per the usual, but then his eye catches you and you looked up because you saw the motion of him walking in in your peripheral and you two make eye contact and he just like *CoughcoughsputterGASPOMG* internally but externally on the other hand… the same. It’s the same. He freezes for a seconds and stares, and he almost chokes on the orange juice he was sipping from breakfast

-          And it’s a little weird and he’s like ‘oh my gosh she saw me, now I look like an idiot. What do I do? Should I stop staring? I should stop staring it’s weird. I should sit down. Can I still walk normally? Kind of? Good enough.’ And he’d just kind of awkwardly continue back to his seat all blushie and his feet would stay on the floor and not on his desk for the whole class and his hands would be clasped in his lap because right now he doesn’t exactly feel like such a big baddie

-          The girls who you’ve met tell you about him and his rep and you’re like “….really?” because he seemed so bashful and all that

-          So as time goes on, you do kind of pick up on what you’re saying, because when he doesn’t know you’re there, the old bad boy comes out, but then if you ever make eye contact with him for the first little while you’re in his class and hold it for any length of time, he just crumbles

-          But eventually he kind of gets past it and he can have regular human interaction with you (thank goodness because it was getting weird)

-          And you two get paired together on a project, and he seems a little nervous at first, but then he falls right into the swing of it almost immediately and loosens up, and it’s the first time you ever get to actually hang out with him. And he’s super fun and playful and it’s great

-          And then you guys present the group project and at the end of that day, he stops you as you’re leaving and is like “Hey…” And he was clearly about to say something else, but now he’s just staring like a deer in the head lights and he’s second guessing himself, and you look back at him kind of wide eyed and expectantly and ask “What’s up”

-          And after a moment, he says “give me a minute.” And he just… runs off…? (And you have no idea what he’s doing, but really he’s just re pep talking himself up again

-          And then he rematerializes again a minute later, and is like “Hey. Eheh… *scratches back of head and does that head tilt thing that he does with a shy smile* Sooo, can I get your number and maybe we can go out some time?”

-          “Yeah, sounds good.”

-          “Wait, really?”

-          “Yep”

-          “Oh! …Great! Um… Di…nner… and a movie? Tomorrow Friday night-uh-Friday? Tomorrow night?”

-          “Pick me up at 5, I’ll text you my address.”

-          And so he’s kind of nervous for the first date, but like a happy and just goes for it kind of nervous. He pays for dinner and insists on buying your ticket to the movie as well, AND the popcorn

-          He lets you pick seats in the theater, and you two wind up getting ice cream after the movie and walk a little

-          And in a moment of silence, you feel him grab your hand and when you look over, he’s looking straight ahead and avoiding eye contact, smiling to himself

-          But then once he gets used to you and he feels more in his element, he goes back to cocky bad boy

-          Teases you about everything

-          Misbehaves and then smiles and winks at you (smack him plz, thx :3)

-          But then if you ever surprise him and break him out of his element, he’s back to that blushy soft boy again

Taehyung

-          Probably only has a bad boy reputation because he’s kind of off in his own world and doesn’t really make an effort to ascribe to expectations, and just happened to fall in with people who had a reputation and because of that sort of just wound up getting plunked into the same stereotype

-          Leather jacket, soft hair dyed, sucking on a lollipop in a convenience store aesthetic (you know the pic I’m referring to. Y’all know the one)

-          In spite of having a bad boy rep, he always manages to put a smile on everyone’s face

-          Loves going out late, goofing off, loitering, being mildly noisy, you know, all that super illegal and rebellious stuff

-          Always has something in his mouth, like a lollipop or gum or something, and has his hands in his pockets a lot

-          Alternates between swaggering around all easy like and doing that cute big ol’ grin of his and waddling and being all fluffy and cute and just cute

-          So the first time you meet him, he was working at the seven eleven with Jhope, and whenever the two of them are working together, it gets a lil’ cra cra

-          So you go into their convenience store because the one you used to go to closed, late at night to grab some study snacks and caffeine, and the moment you walk in, the two of them tone down the goofing off a bit because they’re not supposed to do that when there are people in the store, but while you’re looking for your snack, you glance over the shelf and they’re silently laughing and dancing to the girl group song that’s playing and you chuckle to yourself a little because they look like they’re having fun

-          But after a minute of searching, you’re getting a little worried because there’s this one specific snack you always have during late night study stints and it’s sort of a good luck charm, but you don’t see it anywhere

-          So you shyly go up to the counter

-          “Excuse me?”

-          And they stop what they’re doing immediately, and Taehyung looks up at you like “hmm?”

-          So you ask about the snack, and Tae comes out to look with you, and you guys don’t find anything but then he sees an empty space tucked away where it should have been, so he goes into the back, and then pops out a minute or two later sporting a proud grin around the lollipop he was sucking and the snack you’re looking for

-          And you laugh because he looks so proud that he found it and its really sweet, so you thank him and buy the snack and your drink and then leave

-          And Jhope was elbowing Tae in the side enthusiasticly like “ehEEEH you talked to the GIRRRLL” and Tae was blushing next to him

-          And go back three nights later because you have an exam to study for and you’re going to be up until at least two at night, probably later

-          So you go in and grab the snack and the drink (same one, you’re a creature of habit when it comes to late night studying)

-          And Tae and Jhope are there again to ring you up

-          And you go back again a week later

-          So Tae kind of offhandedly asks you about it because it’s weird that you buy the same thing like that, so you tell him and you two get into a brief conversation about your studying and what class, and how’d the exam go

-          And from then on, every time you go in, there’s another brief conversation

-          And then one day, you’d get there late just as he’s about to end his shift, but he makes an exception for you and rings you up, and then you’re walking out together, and he stops you

-          “Hey, one sec.”

-          “Hmm?”

-          And he looks kind of shy and unsure, but he goes right ahead anyway

-          “I really like it when you come to the shop during my shift, and I was kind of thinking it would be nice to see you for a little longer…? Like a date? Or something…”

-          And as soon as you say yes, he breaks out in that grin and giggles as you give him your number

-          He texts you that Saturday and you two go… get ready for iiiiiiiiiiiit… putt putt golfing. Yep. No trust me, it’s great. Like seriously fantastic

-          And neither of you is particularly good and it’s hilarious and fun

-          So you guys laugh tons, and it’s sort of an eveningish thing so you go at like 4 and finish at like 6 and then he takes you to this fantastic food stand and you guys eat at a picnic bench while you talk, and the topic gets around to this new sequel movie that’s in theaters

-          Both of you loved the first one, but he thinks the 2nd is gonna be awful while you don’t think it’ll be too bad

-          So you both go see it, and the theater is practically empty, it’s just you two, a person sitting in the very front, and a young couple in the back making out and clearly paying no attention

-          And the movie is awful. It’s so cheesy, and the special effects suck, and it’s just… its bad

-          So you two spend the time goofing off and making fun of it and it’s actually the funnest time you’ve ever had watching a terrible movie

-          And then on the way home, he throws his leather jacket over your shoulders because you’re cold and holds your hand

-          So from then on, that’s you guys’ thing

-          You go out late and goof off

-          And as things progress, he gets more and more cuddly in a really fun, playful goofy kind of way, and it’s the absolute best

Jhope

-          Another goofball

-          But he’s a lot more flirty

-          Works late nights at the convenience store with Tae and hangs out to watch and wink shamelessly at passersby with Jungkook

-          Not quite as shameless as Jungkook, just does it for fun, but still

-          He’s chill though, he’s a really down to earth guy and a great friend

-          Has breakdancing competitions in parking garages and on street corners and stuff with other dancers

-          Super confident, doesn’t give a waaaaaat sorta attitude, but like the good kind. Not like the rbf kind, more like just ain’t nobody got time to worry about them haters

-          Also, he looks like ‘MURICA Jhope. Like you know how he turns into a different person in America? Like wears the snapbacks, and we get to see forehead Jhope, and he dresses different, and he just looks so chill and confident and playful in a subtle sort of way? Yeah, that’s badboy Jhope

-          So he’s dancin’ like a BAWSS on a street corner that you happen to be passing by, and there’s a bit of a crowd forming so you go over to see

-          And LOW AND BEHOLD there’s this cute guy whos snapback has just fallen off because he’s pullin some sweet, sweet, moves

-          So you stop to watch, and then when he’s done, the fifteen or so people that have gathered are clapping and hooting, so you lean down to pick up his hat and hand it to him

-          So he follows it up with his eyes as you pick it up and when his eyes get to your face, he pauses for a minute then gives you one of his America jhope smiles before he walks over to you

-          “Hey”

-          He’s standing normal talking distance from you, a little closer than he needed to be to take his hat, and he reaches up to get it from your hand

-          “Thanks”

-          And he turns around to have a dance off with his other friend that’s there

-          So you stay and watch for the first part of it, and he occasionally glances over at you when he’s not busy dancing, and if he catches your eyes, he smiles a little before looking away

-          But then you realize that you have somewhere you have to be because you’re meeting someone for coffee, so you have to skedaddle

-          And you left while he was in the middle of a dance break, so when he gets up again, he looks around, but you’re gone and he’s like wait nooo, gosh dang it

-          And you guys don’t run into each other again

-          Until a couple of weeks later

-          When you’re off shopping for clothes for this blind date that your friend set you up for that you’re fairly certain is going to go awfully

-          Because you looked up the guy’s Instagram and you’re not impressed

-          So you finish shopping and you’re on your way home, when you see a crowd of people on that same street corner you saw that one guy on that one time

-          So you go over to see, and you push your way between a couple of people, and sure enough, GUESS WHO IT ISSSSS

-          ITS HOSEEOOOOKIIEEE

-          So you’re like oh my gosh, this is kind of cool

-          So you stay to watch him and his friends dance, but also because you want to see him again

-          And as soon as he sees you he goes kind of wide eyed like oh wow, she’s back

-          So he finishes dancing, and immediately gets up and calls it a day, so his people start packing up and the crowd disperses, but he walks straight over to you

-          “Hey, you’re back” *’murica smile*

-          And like he’s not even concerned that you’ll think it’s weird that he remembers you, he thought you were pretty so he wanted to see you again, no shame and it’s great

-          “That was really good, back there.” You comment on his dancing

-          “Huh? Oh, thanks” and he smiles again at the compliment. He tells you about how he’s been dancing forever and he and those friends like to have dance off and rap battles sometimes

-          And then he introduces them, the guy he was dancing with that time was Jimin, and a guy helping them pack up the speakers is Namjoon, and he’s Hoseok

-          So you introduce yourself

-          And he asks what you were doing there today, so you tell him about the blind date and how you think It’s gonna go awful but at least you’re getting a nice dress out of it

-          You two talk for a little longer, until his friends call him because they’re ready to go, so he turns back to you

-          “Hey listen, I know this is kind of sudden and out of the blue, but here’s my number *scratches number into an old crumpled ramen receipt with a pen* and if that date goes as badly as you think and you want a pick me up after, I can take you out for ice cream or something”

-          So the blind date sucked, he was a jerk, checked out the waitress nonstop, but hey, atleast you got a free dinner out of it

-          And now guess who’s answering your call smiling and throwing on a snapback before heading out the door to meet you on that street corner

-          So as soon as you two meet up, he walks you to this cute little cake and ice cream shop that he says he frequents, and you two get ice cream, and walk and talk

-          And it goes great, so he takes you out again

-          And again

-          … And again…

-          Your relationship is composed of random dates, dumb face selfies, and watching him dance

-          He starts throwing his arm over your shoulder all chill and playful like right at the second date, and never stopped

-          When he’s tired out from dancing and you sit him down and mess with his hair soothingly, he is putty in your hands

Where is Shiro Theory

Okay before I get this started I wanted to ask was I the only one who when we saw the Black Lion and her abilities with her wings, warping through the astral plane, that there was something dangerous about it? Don’t get me wrong it was so cool seeing Shiro PHASE THROUGH ZARKON to get his bayard back.

Alfor may have built the Black Lion but how much of the material collected from the comet was completely alien to Alfor? How much is tech and how much is magic none of them fully understand?

Back to the Black Lion’s wings and their warp abilities, I didn’t really understand the ability until I saw Shiro take the bayard from Zarkon and that was the moment I thought it was very dangerous, it’s like Black and Shiro are physically entering another plane of existence when their ability is activated that they can manipulate the real world by going in and taking something out from the real world and bring it back with them when they rematerialize 

In a way it’s like Shiro and the Black become spirits since they can warp trhough solid objects but anyway, the point I’m trying to make is something out of my head

It can work both ways. Zarkon was shown to be able to enter the astral plane and even though his connection with the Black Lion was severely weaken Zarkon has been super charging with Haggar’s magic for most of the season.

Which seeing what happened with Allura I don’t think the two things are entirely unrelated since its been reveiled Haggar is an Altean and an Altean was the one to create the Black Lion, would that mean the other Druids could possibly be Altean as well? (unless Allura is part Druid BUT THAT’S ANOTHER STORY, or unless Druids are what Alteans used to be again ANOTHER STORY) point is Voltron has some connection to Haggar’s magic and must tie into quintessence based, maybe even the stardust thing that was brought up, so everything is connected   

So whatever Zarkon did when he grabbed Voltron’s head with the Druid magic must have something to do with Shiro’s disappearance and quintessence it just has to, nothing happened to the rest of Voltron, only the head was affected and at the time Zarkon could still possible have been able to use the Black Lion’s abilities since he was close enough and literally GRABBED HER HEAD 

So where is Shiro? Zarkon grabbed the head of the Lion with some sort of spiritual warp projection abilities  

He has to be trapped in the astral plane or some other alternate reality, just, the combination of the Black Lion’s powers and so much different from Zarkon’s suit and fight for control may have been too much for the Black Lion to handle I mean the blast ripped Voltron apart 

And I have some more think to back up my theory of Shiro being trapped in some alternate reality

SLOV KEPT BRINGING UP ALTERNATE REALITIES SINCE DAY ONE AND WE ALL THOUGHT IT WAS A JOKE BUT WHAT IF HE’S ONTO SOMETHING

Now the question is, how does Team Volton save Shiro? If Shiro really is in another reality, can they travel there? Or is the Black Lion, and her pilot, the only one who can reach it? Does this mean that if Keith really does become the Black Paladin, will he have to forge a bond with the Black Lion so he can reach Shiro and bring him back?

If so I can definitely see some set backs, Keith can pilot the Black Lion of course but how will everyone deal with Keith being Shiro’s chosen leader? There will definitely be some tension, possible from Lance I can see happening, saying Keith is too hotheaded to lead so Keith will have to deal with the burden of being a leader, not to mention face whatever obstacle Prince Lotor my trash son throws at them 

One last thing I wanted to bring up, does anyone on the team even fully understand the Black Lion’s abilities? Did Shiro even have time to explain it to them? I have a feeling they’re going to have to figure out exactly what it is to be able to rescue Shiro because I don’t believe for a second that Shiro is dead you can pry this theory from my cold dead hands anyway! I can’t wait to find out more from Season 3 

Our Cloud

Prompt: Guardian


Seated in the plush red seat across from Don Pecora, Tsuna listened to his angered rant. He kept particular attention on the overweight man’s tone and body language, but he did not have concerns over Pecora attempting to harm him. At least, not by his own hands. Tsuna didn’t miss how he was placed rather neatly in front of a large plate-glass window, his back facing the scenery displayed outside. He also knew how enraged Pecora was over his continuous refusal to integrate their Families a little more closely together. Doing so would ensure a surge in business transactions, which Pecora was lacking. But the Vongola worked alone, and the Family Alliance was mostly a truce between dozens of other Mafia Families with the Vongola—to keep in their good graces.

Pecora didn’t seem to understand the role of the Family Alliance, but that wasn’t surprising. He was incredibly stupid, especially considering why he had lured Tsuna to his mansion (with rather strict instructions that Pecora preferred he come alone). Pecora seemed a bit taken aback that Tsuna had agreed but had taken it in stride. He was seeing this as a rare opportunity to rid himself of a pest, an uncooperative rival, and probably had unattainable visions of usurping the Vongola throne for himself after the assassination was completed.

He clearly did not get what ‘most powerful Mafia Family in the world’ encompassed.

Tsuna waited calmly, discretely shifting his gaze between Pecora and the watch strapped around his wrist. Pecora did not notice his divided attention, no doubt believing this was his chance to call the Vongola Don every name under the sun before he was disposed of.

Obviously delusional.

The seconds ticked down and in the moment a bullet was meant to pass through the glass and into the back of his head, the heavy oak door flew off its hinges. Pecora halted, words dying in his throat at the figure that loomed in the doorway.

Tonfas in hand, flickering with Cloud Flames, Hibari turned a murderous stare on the petrified Pecora. Tsuna stood, stretching his arms over his head and moving aside as Hibari strode forwards. He grabbed the stammering man by his neck, bones cracking beneath his fingertips, and threw him through the broken doorway.

Pecora found himself sprawled out against blood-stained hardwood, his Mafioso prone and moving, scattered down the corridor. A gasp escaped his lips when a foot pressed down against the base of his spine with deadly pressure.

Tsuna crossed his arms over his chest, expression unimpressed. “It’s very insulting, for you to think I would be so moronic as to walk obliviously to my own death. I am not quite sure what you hoped to accomplish here, other than an impulsive grab for power and notoriety. I do not tolerate those who attempt to harm me or my family. This is your doing.”

There was a sickening crack and the man fell limp on the floor. Tsuna let out a quiet sigh and turned his chin, looking down the corridor. He did not like to kill, he despised it. But he knew it could not be helped, not when they were people like Pecora who would like nothing more to destroy him and everyone he loved.

“You didn’t kill all of them, did you?” he asked his Cloud, taking in the carnage properly for the first time.

Hibari turned to face Tsuna with a flat gaze. “What do you think?”

A quiet moan sounded from the other end of the hall, and a beaten Mafioso turned over in agony. Tsuna glanced at Hibari in amusement. “Pretty sure he got the hint after the first couple of blows.”

“Herbivores like these are imbeciles. Only a strong demonstration will teach them the full lesson,” returned Hibari. “They will be scrambling like ants to restore order to their broken hierarchy. Pecora did not get around to choosing an heir. It will be entertaining.”

“Have I ever told you how glad I am you’re on my side?”

“For now.”

There was a smirk on his lips as Hibari turned and stepped over stirring bodies, Tsuna walking beside him. Hibari had taken care of every possible threat to Tsuna’s life, all before the time the plan was meant to be executed. Tsuna knew that Hibari would never fail to protect him or the others, a barrier between them and the enemy.

Gray eyes roaming over the mission file splayed out on the glass café table, Hibari swirled the water around his glass with the straw, the ice clinking together. Ensuring that everything was in order, he closed the beige folder and slipped it into his black leather messenger bag. He shifted his stare to scan the bustling street, his ire increasing when he did not spot the two illusionists amongst an otherwise faceless crowd.

They had arranged to meet him so they could hand over their reports and finish the mission file. Hibari had finished his component of the job two hours ago, and he knew Mukuro and Chrome had already wrapped up their loose ties. They had no reasons to be late.

Hibari was just about to leave when a flash of blue caught his peripheral vision. Mukuro strode down the sidewalk, a lazy expression on his features. He caught the punch Hibari aimed at his face and said, “I’m only ten minutes late.”

“It’s disrespectful to be even a minute late,” snapped Hibari. “I should have left nine minutes ago.”

Mukuro smirked. “Am I that vexing that you would leave Chrome behind to spite me?”

Hibari stared, eyes narrowing. “What is that supposed to mean?”

It was Mukuro’s turn to become confused. He had noticed Chrome was not around when he arrived, but assumed she was either in the bathroom or ordering food from inside the restaurant. “She left before me. I couldn’t locate my portion of papers, so I had to search for them. She’s not here?”

“No. When only you arrived I thought you were delivering her report as well.”

Hibari did not feel any negative emotions from Chrome, but he was not going to rule out foul play completely. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialling the girl’s number. When she did not answer, he scowled and hung up. Mukuro frowned, brow furrowed. “She’s not responding to my mental summons either.”

Activating the app that let him track other cell phones, Hibari entered Chrome’s number. Immediately a blue dot appeared, a few blocks away from where they were. Mukuro peered over his shoulder and said, “Let’s go.”

Slipping a hand beneath Hibari’s arm, Mukuro transported them to the location. When they rematerialized, they found themselves outside of an animal shelter. Children and adults were playing with the dogs and cats tied to their cages. Sitting against the building, an armful of fluffy white, black and brown kittens in her arms, was a blissful Chrome.

Mukuro stared for a moment, his tense muscles loosening with relief. “Kufufufufu. Should have known.”

Hibari strolled across the street and Chrome looked up. Her eye widened at the sight of him, suddenly realizing where she should be. “I’m sorry—”

Her apology was cut off by a quiet yip when Hibari threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling sharply and craning her neck at an uncomfortable angle. “When you’re not holding fragile baby cats, you’re getting bitten to death. Be where you’re supposed to be and if you’re taking a detour, tell someone. Why didn’t you answer your cell phone?”

“I might have forgotten to turn on the ringer,” said Chrome sheepishly.

At the glower he directed at her, Mukuro strode forwards. “Relax, Kyoya. She got a little sidetracked—”

Hibari’s other hand shot out and planted against Mukuro’s chest. “You need to stop wasting my time and learn punctuality.”

His annoyance was clear, but beneath Chrome could feel subtle concern. She tugged on his pant leg. “I’m sorry. I should have let you know where I was. But I saw all the animals and I got so excited that I completely forgot.”

“Explains why you didn’t answer my mental summons. It’s never good to let yourself get so distracted,” said Mukuro, tone holding a rebuke.

“I’m really sorry.” Hibari did not seem completely appeased (considering he still had a grip on her short ponytail) Chrome extended a black kitten. “Would you like to hold a kitty?”

The kitten pawed at Hibari’s shirt and the Cloud gathered it into his arms with little hesitation. Chrome and Mukuro exchanged a grin, which Hibari did not miss. Running his fingers through the kitten’s fur, he glared at the two illusionists. “You’re both useless.”

“We love you too,” sang Chrome.

“Take out your reports. We’re getting the paperwork done now.”

“Here?” asked Mukuro, slightly incredulous as Hibari lowered to sit on the concrete beside Chrome.

“Yes. Get your sorry backside down here.”

Chrome was sure no other Mafioso had ever completed mission reports sitting on the ground, covered with kittens. But she was also certain there was no other Mafioso who could accomplish a feat while still looking menacing and threatening like Hibari.

The alley was narrow, and mostly dark with the exception of the pinpricks of dirty yellow light flickering feebly from streetlights, the bulbs most likely haven’t been replaced in years and miraculously still functioning. Footsteps pounded against the cracked concrete, curses and shouts echoing in the night air. The sounds were promptly cut off, one by one, until the alley was once again silent.

Stepping over the bald, tattooed body in front of him, Hibari scanned the area. There were no more thugs charging at him and he continued forwards. His gray eyes were focussed on the bent, rusted steel door at the end of the alley. When he was close enough he raised his foot and it look very little effort to dislodge it from its hinges.

After the dust had settled from the impact of the door striking against a concrete floor, he found himself in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. The four thugs lounging around hollered in shock and anger, immediately charging forwards. Hibari flicked them aside like ants, not breaking his stride.

“Ha ha, I’m glad to see you.”

Hibari did not respond, gray eyes critically studying Yamamoto’s condition. He used his tonfas to break the chains holding his wrists to a half-destroyed metal shelving unit and Yamamoto flexed them to get the feeling back. There were dark red marks indicating where the chains had restrained him, and his right eye was swollen shut, black and purple. There was a cut on his upper lip, dried blood creating a trail on his chin.

“What the hell happened?” demanded Hibari.

Yamamoto stood, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was in my car, getting ready to go home, when there was a knock on my window. There was a guy asking for directions so I rolled it down so I could help him. Next thing I know I wake up in this warehouse.”

“You opened up your car to a disgusting herbivore like this,” snapped Hibari, angrily kicking a prone piercing-laden punk in the side.

Yamamoto shrugged. “I didn’t open my car—just put down the window. He looked he needed help. I wasn’t in a bad part of town, anyway.”

Hibari shook his head in disgust. “You let your guard down.”

“I did,” admitted Yamamoto. His tone made it clear he was displeased with his inability to handle a simple situation and Hibari knew he had no doubt been humiliated by the thugs. Yamamoto’s turned more sincere and sheepish as he said, “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Don’t be stupid. Let’s get out of here.”

Yamamoto retrieved his katana, which had been thrown carelessly aside after his assaulters had tied him up. The two walked out of the warehouse and down the alley. Hibari caught sight of a cut on the back of Yamamoto’s neck. It was most likely caused by the shelving he was chained to and Hibari said, “Are you up to date on your tetanus shot?”

“Yeah. Why, am I bleeding somewhere?”

Hibari caught Yamamoto’s fingers as they reached back to search for the injury that had prompted his question. “No, but there it is a wound. Don’t touch it or you’ll infect it.”

“Right. Hey, did you see my car?”

“Across the street, in a parking lot. Found the keys in one of the herbivores’ pockets.”

They reached Yamamoto’s car, which was relatively unscathed. Hibari removed the keys and slid into the driver’s seat. Having no protests, Yamamoto lowered into the passenger seat. “I guess they wanted my car to use for parts or money,” he mused.

“Or they were hoping to get some money out of you,” drawled Hibari, pointedly pulling on Yamamoto’s designer shirt, the logo stitched perfectly onto the right breast. “It’s almost ten thirty. What are you doing out here so late?”

“Oh—I wanted some chips, but we didn’t have any.” Yamamoto reached behind him and removed a plastic bag, where a jumbo bag of potato chips was nestled. “Want some?”

Hibari stared at him blankly before starting the car. He inched to the exit of the parking lot, rolling down his window slightly. He nimbly plucked the chips from Yamamoto’s grasp and tossed it out into the trash bin they passed on the edge of the sidewalk. Putting the window back up he pulled onto the street, smirking at Yamamoto’s rather scandalized expression.

“You shouldn’t put garbage like that into your body, herbivore.”

There was a light drizzle, raindrops gently pelting the world below. Ryohei tugged his gray hood further over his head to block the water, eyes roaming the empty park. Hibari was a few feet away, leaning against the metal pole of a broken lamppost. They were shrouded in shadows, only detectable by those who were paying close attention to their surroundings.

There had been news reports of a sexual harasser prowling parks at night, targeting young women out for evening strolls or returning home from work. As the police were having trouble pinpointing the location of his next attack, Ryohei and Hibari were tasked by Tsuna to bring this creep down.

The always talkative boxer was quiet, his body tense and senses on high alert. Hibari knew Ryohei was thinking of the girls in their household, of how they could be just as much at risk of being assaulted. It was a possibility that disturbed Hibari as well, of course, but instead of worrying about the what-ifs, he focussed his attention on finding and eliminating the threat.

After about an hour, Ryohei finally spoke. “Are you sure this is the right park?”

“There’s five he hasn’t staked out yet,” replied Hibari. “It’s the closest to the one he committed his last assault in.”

Ryohei nodded, though his expression remained uncertain. It was another hour before a scream sounded throughout the vast space. It was abrupt, so short that it could have been easily missed if they were not listening for such a sign. Hibari’s ears immediately pinpointed the direction the cry had come from and the two were running, charging down the path and into a small section of trees and bushes.

Halfway through the thicket there was a thick, burly man, kneeling on top of a thrashing brunette female, his hand firmly covering her mouth. He was wearing a baggy hoodie and one hand was working to undo his pants.

The man’s head snapped upwards at the sound of crunching branches, but he did not get a chance to react. Ryohei launched into a flying tackle and brought the man off of the girl. The Sun expressed his disgust with the man’s utter repulsive actions with his fists and a string of curse-laden insults.

Hibari strode forwards, hooking an arm around the sobbing female’s shoulders and bringing her to her feet. Her shirt was torn and she was covered in bruises and dirt, but they had gotten there in time. She choked out words of gratitude and Hibari made a noise of acknowledgement, watching Ryohei unleash his aggression.

When the assaulter was properly bloody Hibari acted, grabbing Ryohei by the back of his sweater and hauling him up. “You made your point,” he said quietly, feeling his back heave with hard breaths.

“Yeah…yeah,” managed Ryohei, struggling to see past his furious haze. The crying of the terrified girl snapped him out of it completely and he hurried to her side, setting a hand on her shoulder in a soothing manner. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Hibari removed his cell phone and called the police, relaying their location. He took a moment to break the criminal’s arm, his screams music to his ears. The cops arrived and took the beaten and blood-soaked man into custody. The girl refused to get into the ambulance without her two rescuers, so Hibari and Ryohei found themselves waiting into the hospital waiting room at one in the morning.

When his adrenaline died down and his mind was clear, Ryohei realized that Hibari only intervened to tell him that he had done enough. He studied the Cloud, expression speculative. Eyes locked on the newspaper, aware of Ryohei’s intent gazing, Hibari spoke up. “What?”

“You hate it when someone takes your prey away from you. Why did you let me do the brunt of the damage?”

“You needed it. Fighting is a thrill, a sport, an activity, a release, therapeutic. It can be all of these at once or only one. Depends on the person, on the fight. You were tightly wound up. If you did not fight the object of your agitation, your aggression, your anger, your emotions would remain bottled up.”

Ryohei was stunned for a brief moment by Hibari’s observation. Eventually he smiled and said, “You’re an interesting character. Thanks to the extreme, Kyoya.”

Warm affection flooded through his bonds and Hibari finally looked up from the newspaper, regarding the white-haired man. “This won’t become a habit,” he warned.

“I know. I just…I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about the girls, about how awful it would be if this happened to them.”

“There’s a stark difference between our girls and this one,” said Hibari, gesturing in the direction where the injured female was being treated.

“What?” asked Ryohei.

“They have me.”

“Don’t you mean us?”

“No.”

But Hibari’s lips turned upwards and Ryohei rolled his eyes good-naturedly, feeling better than he had all night.

The country roads snaked across sprawling green fields, seemingly endless. Gokudera’s tinted shades protected his pale green eyes from the afternoon rays. The car was silent and the radio would have been on if he had a desire to be bitten to death while he was driving. He shifted his gaze to the rear-view mirror, adjusting it so he could glance into the backseat. Hibari had his head leaning back, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest.

Gokudera let his gaze linger before returning his attention to the road. The bright blue sky and emerald scenery was blurred by a scene flashing through his mind, replaying as if on a loop.

Finishing his meeting with Don Gemelli, he was walking down the corridor. He paused upon hearing loud voices around the corner, his name being mentioned. Being referred to as bastard spawn. Brief, obnoxious laughter followed and before he could confront them there was the familiar sound of metal hitting bone. Then there was quiet. He stayed rooted in place for a moment before venturing around the corner, where the two Mafioso were on the ground, unconscious, and Hibari disappearing out the door.

“That was a pretty ballsy move,” he said at last, his mind returning to the present. “One of those guys you clocked is the Don’s son.”

“You woke me up.”

Gokudera rolled his eyes. “You weren’t even sleeping. I could tell by the pattern of your breathing.”

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You knew I was in the next corridor. I could have handled those jerks myself.”

“You were too slow.”

There was a solid smack to the back of his head and Gokudera nearly drove off of the road. “Are you trying to kill us?” he snapped. “What’s your problem?”

“The second you start believing such asinine remarks is the moment I bite you to death.”

His serious tone caused Gokudera to shift his gaze briefly over his shoulder. “I don’t,” he returned. “Not anymore. It was hard, when I was younger. I never properly knew my mother, and my life up until that was a lie. I didn’t know who I was.”

“You are who you choose to be. Your past does not have to define you.”

“I know that, now. But thanks.”

Hibari made a hum of acknowledgement, Gokudera’s contentment and affection humming through their bonds. It wasn’t the first time the Cloud had punished those for slandering the Storm’s heritage, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The warm spray of the shower coated his aching muscles, Lambo leaned against the shower wall for support. As much as he wanted to spend eternity underneath the water, he finally unfurled himself and turned off the tap. He stumbled out of the stall and used a towel to pat himself dry. He flinched at the pain that tore through his limbs as he pulled on his pajamas.

He had just finished a hard, intense workout, as well as a session in utilizing and perfecting his Lightning Flames. His body wasn’t used to such physical exertion and it was furious with him. Every fiber of his being was in agony.

Lambo walked sluggishly to his room across the hall, dropping almost weightlessly into his bed. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he managed to process that there was a glass of milk on his nightstand table. With a great amount of effort, he reached for it and chugged the lukewarm contents. The glass clattered back into place and his arm fell to his side, eyes falling shut.

He was half-asleep when footsteps crossed the threshold. Cracking one eye open slightly, he saw Hibari move over to the edge of his bed. His fingers smoothed through his raven curls and the soothing action caused Lambo to let his eye fall shut again. He felt the blankets jerk and shift as Hibari covered his body and then arranged his arms and legs into a more comfortable position.

“You did well, small animal,” said Hibari softly.

The words sent a sharp flare of pride through Lambo and he tried to say thanks, but his tongue would not cooperate. He soon fell asleep completely, and when he awoke the next morning with his muscles stiff and sore, there was a bottle of pain-relieving cream waiting for him.

Hibari was cold, aloof, violent, distant and indifferent. But those who knew him best, those he allowed to be an intimate part of his life, knew there was much more to him. He was reliable and there was never any doubt if he would always be able to come through. He was protective of those he considered his own and fought for them, sometimes subtly and sometimes obviously. He did not let his family think negatively about themselves and gave his advice when he believed it was needed.

He was their Cloud Guardian, the one who would always watch over them.

And Maybe I'm Tired of Being Tired Part 1

Warning: cursing, death, fighting, blood

Words: 639


The echo of the shot rang out and everyone’s head turned to watch as the young man tumbled to the ground. His last expression one of shock, before the final breath escaped his lips and he lay there motionless.
“No! NOOO!” You screamed out, eyes darting around the open area to find the person who’d shot him. You spotted the sniper perched on a roof and within seconds your body rematerialized behind him. The last sound he ever heard was cracking of his own rib cage and the spluttering of his breath and your spear went through his heart.
“Y/N, stand down and return to your position,” Steve’s voice sounded in your ear and you reappeared in your initial hiding spot. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“He killed that kid and you expect me to just let him walk,” you growled back. “Not happening, Rogers. Now, let’s blow some shit up.”
“Language,” Tony retorted jokingly. “I agree with hothead over here. Let’s blow this place sky high.”
You hastily pulled yourself out of your spot and took off running towards the exit. The last explosive was in place and the timer set.
“This place is coming down in one minute,” you called, knowing the team was already clear.
“Good, now get out,” Steve ordered, but you had other ideas. You could see the hazy shape of a person towering floors above you and decided to pay them a visit.
Your sudden appearance in front of the man, caused him to jerk towards you and fire his gun. The bullet streaking across your shoulder, slicing skin from skin. “Well, well, little miss hero, so glad you could join me for the downfall of earths mightiest hero’s,” Gavin Denario said smugly, aiming his gun at your chest.
“Y/N please tell me you’re clear! We heard a gunshot,” Steve’s voice echoed over your comms.
“Not clear just yet, Stevie,” you told him, switching your comm off. You turned your attention to Gavin. “I’m so sorry you feel that way.”
You flashed dangerously and Gavin was dangling over the ledge as the timer on the bomb ticked towards ten seconds. His eyes widened as he grabbed at your hands, trying to pull himself back, but you just let go. The sickening smack of his body was the perfect sound to notify you of the bomb going off. You closed your eyes and suddenly you were standing in the meeting spot, surrounded by your team. To say Steve was angry was an understatement. You could practically see the steam boiling out of his ears as he lifted you out of the fountain you’d landed in.
“Hey, stop manhandling me,” you snapped, brushing away his hands and scowling.
“What was that?? You could have been seriously injured or you could have been killed?” yelled Steve.
“So?” You argued.
The entire teams eyes shot towards you, the fact that you’d basically just admitted you didn’t care if you died wasn’t connecting in your brain.
“I didn’t. It’s fine. Now can we get home so I can take a damn shower.”
The group silently headed back to the quinjet, all eyes focused on you as if you’d do something stupid. Reckless was not a word anyone would have ever used to describe you, up until now. You used to like to take your time, planning a hit before you took it, but lately you were doing whatever you could to put yourself in danger. To make sure you were positioned in front of them no matter what the circumstance.
“You’re bleeding,” Bucky growled, acknowledging the gash on your shoulder. You shrugged it off.
“It’s a flesh wound,” you told him, turning away and hurrying towards the peace and quiet of your room. You showered quickly, doing your best to patch up your shoulder and slipped into a white t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting pajama bottoms.

The Dark Lord: Dark Consort

@lectorel @stylishbutdefinitelyillegal

There is very little left now.

Percival Graves has been rescued from torture and imprisonment at the hands of Gellert Grindelwald. And despite all claims to the contrary, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement is most decidedly not okay.

After.

After painfearagonyhumiliationpaindon’ttouchmepainbetrayalpainithurtithurtsitHURTS, Percival Graves is – empty. That’s the best description of his current state of being. He goes to work. He does his paperwork. He leads his aurors, stance firm and unfailing as he drags the scum of the Wizarding World to justice. I am fine. Director Graves tells himself, tells the world with every decisive footstep, every barked order. I am fine.

It is his mantra, and he mutters it with all the conviction of a convert hoping, desperately, that if he repeats it enough it might come true.

Percival Graves is not fine.

He comes home in the evenings, and just – stops.

Sometimes he manages to make himself a cup of tea. More often he doesn’t, and simply – sits. Stares into the distance, mind numb and hollow as memory drags him down like a rip current.  He sleeps very little. He only eats when prompted. He just – stops.

Sometimes Graves is vaguely concerned that no one’s noticed his slow decay, his subtle decline. But – it makes sense, doesn’t it? They didn’t notice when he was replaced by a genocidal psychopath. They didn’t notice when Grindelwald wore his face like a cheap suit. Why should they notice his breaking?

Percival Graves sits in an empty house in a darkened room and breathes.

There is very little left now.

He isn’t even curious when there’s a knock at his door. Or at the muffled curses that echo through unlit hallways as footsteps shuffle forward. He is indifferent to the tall body that blunders into his sitting room, or the sharp inhale as unfamiliar eyes land on his still form.

There is a hand beneath his chin, tilting his head upwards and Graves vaguely recognizes the individual in front of him. He’d arrested them once, hadn’t he? The memory is vague and unimportant, but it’s vaguely more interesting then the figure in front of him carefully calling him by name. Yes – a know associate of the Dark Lord (the other Dark Lord, the one who didn’t like humans very much). Graves had ended up releasing them; they’d committed no crime on American soil, and, technically, committed no acts of Black Magic (for all that their aura screamed with the cold of the Dark).

Graves notes their identity absently before letting his mind lapse back into perfect blankness.

There is an arm wrapping around his back, beneath his shoulders, and a sharp curse as he’s levered upright; Graves follows passively as the other magic-user urges them forward. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, not the squeeze of apparition as they clear the threshold, not the sick lurch in his stomach as they rematerialize beneath an undimmed canopy of stars –

There is a fire, and there are dark figures discernible only by the shape of their shadows lingering around the blaze. Heads turn as he is urged forward with a surprising gentleness – again, Graves follows. What else is he to do?

And there is a dark, dark figure sitting to one side of the burning logs.

The magic-user who is half-carrying him sinks to their knees, and Graves is forced to follow. He watches, vaguely curious, as they bow their head. And then – their voice is a whisper, a scream, a memory –

“My lord. Please. Have mercy.”

And this is the Dark Lord, this is the other Dark Lord, the one that Graves sank years of his life into finding, into hunting, into tracking without ever so much as glimpsing the man’s shadow, and faint curiosity strengthens into the first real emotion he’s felt in months as he raises his head and stares head-on at the seated figure.

(Later on, there will be tears and recriminations and explanations, there will be Newt practically diving off the log he was sitting on as he stumbles to Percival’s side, desperately trying to find out where the other man is hurt – he’d thought that the Director was bleeding out, that he’d been horribly maimed, that something was terribly, terribly wrong. There will be Newt sheepishly confessing how even though he’d never so much as touched black magic everyone still insisted on calling him a Dark Lord, there will be a rusty laugh bellowing from Percival’s throat because only you, Scamander, only you…)

There is a Dark Lord, they say. A Dark Lord who is terribly in his mercy, implacable in his fury. A Dark Lord, who has taken a consort, who has bound the man’s shadow and supped wisdom from his sighs.

anonymous asked:

So, do you have an ATLA superhero AU? (Because Blue Spirit was totally a superhero identity, and I can see a lot being done with that)

I don’t have a superhero AU, though I did noodle around a bit with @avatarsymbolism’s superhero AU here: [Link] Anyway, this does not take place in that universe.

1. When Mai was very little, she had terrible nightmares about a woman, made up of smoke and shadow.  The woman would sit at her bedside and stare at her until she woke up, then the woman would reach out and touch her, and Mai would disappear.  When she really did wake up, soaked in sweat and crying, she would have the strangest feeling that she had seen the woman before, in the real world, when she was awake.

Then, when she was twelve, still a child, but staring to look a little more like the woman she would become, Mai was standing in front of a mirror when it clicked.  The woman whose face had been in her childhood nightmares was her own.  She reached up in shock to touch her face, and disappeared into a roiling pool of shadow smoke.

Just as quickly, she popped back into existence and went to school, shaking, and terrified, with no idea what she was or what had happened.

2. The first person Mai met with powers was Ty Lee, who introduced her to Azula.  Ty Lee can make up to six duplicates of herself, and Azula can summon lightning.  Mai though has always suspected that Azula has another power.  She has the best luck of anyone Mai has ever seen.  The universe seems to bend around her to fulfill her desires.

Azula was in town with her father to find and recruit other children with powers into his new school.  Azula told her all about her father’s special sensing equipment, and about what it’s like to be with kids just like them, and no, Mai, you’re not a demon, or a spirit, you’re just a little better than human, just like us.

This is not the same sell that Ozai gave to Mai’s parents, where he talked about academics and keeping their daughter safe from people who would use her.  They sent her away to his academy, and Mai always figured they were happy to be rid of her.

3. Of course Ozai was the person who was going to try to use her.  He wanted an army of special children, just like he was, just like children are, to overthrow the government and install himself as the superior dictator.  Mai was something of a jewel in his crown.  Her ability to materialize and dematerialize herself and anything she’s touching at will is a perfect supervillian power, and she was taken away for special training as a spy, thief, and assassin.

Through Azula, Mai also met Ozai’s other child, Zuko, who has fire powers, and who his father and sister generally viewed as disappointing cannon fodder.  Eventually, Zuko ran away, found his uncle, and ended up becoming a superhero called the Blue Spirit, fighting to expose his father and his school.

4. Mai ran away too, later, after helping a captured Zuko escape from Azula.  For a while, she did what she was best at, stealing to survive, and ignoring the world’s problems.  But then she spotted Azula working to recruit more kids, feeding parents the same line that worked on her parents, and she just…

By the time Ty Lee ran away and tracked her down, she was already a full fledged superhero herself, calling herself the kemurikage after a story her mother told her as a little girl, after the nightmares mostly stopped.  She and Zuko had even teamed up a few times.

5. Mai once dematerialized a person, a super soldier named Suki, who caught her robbing a bank.  When she rematerialized her almost a month  later, Suki was a little…  Traumatized.

Quietus Chapter 50 - Sneak Peek

The bridge loomed ever closer, a beautiful, imposing structure carved intricately from stone. But it lacked any side railings, and as Sakura and Suigetsu set foot upon it, the sea deity realised right away that getting across was likely going to be a perilous venture. He had to carry Sakura. The Furies would have no reservations about driving her over the edge and chasing her down into the misty, bottomless chasm below.

But just as he moved to grab her, all three Erinyes abruptly rematerialized right before them, circling them in a frenzied whirlwind of shrieking fury. Suigetsu shouted out, briefly losing his balance. Sakura screeched, forced backward from the shock of their sudden appearance, and lost her footing, toppling toward the edge of the narrow bridge. The Furies broke from their circle and viciously surrounded her, tearing at her clothing and hair with the force of the air that accompanied their hurricane movements. Somehow they were able to damage the fabric without physically touching her with their claws. Sakura, alarmed, lost grip of Kusanagi, and shielded her head instinctively, protectively, screaming as the horrible, sanity-stealing voices raged mercilessly in her ears.

“Traitor!”

“Thisss shall be your tomb!”

“Damned isss your sssoul!”

“NO!” Sakura ground out through tightly grit teeth, beads of perspiration forming on her brow with the concentrated effort of trying to block the hellish voices out. “Get out… of my head…!”

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop their words from resonating inside her skull.

An angry yell split through the air, as Suigetsu retrieved Sasuke’s sword and lunged at where the Furies were moving in a cyclone of rage around Sakura. He stabbed at them with the blade, forcing them to briefly part, but they retaliated aggressively and quickly. Two of them dissipated into plumes of smoke as he attacked them with a combination of Sasuke’s blade and powerful waves of water, only to reappear, screaming with such force, that even the water deity’s ears were afflicted, and he momentarily lost sight of Sakura in the pandemonium the Furies caused.

That brief moment was all the third Erinye needed to assault a disorientated Sakura, who stumbled, lost her footing – and plummeted straight over the edge of the bridge, her ear-splitting scream echoing loudly in the hollow darkness.

“Shit! SAKURA!” Suigetsu’s stomach lurched as he immediately realised what had happened. With a snarl of frustration, he forced the Erinyes back with another powerful wave of rotating water, and raced forward, his eyes frantically seeking Sakura’s falling form in the bottomless abyss far below-

-only to find her clinging onto the underside of the bridge with a precariously glowing hand that looked like she’d channelled…

He blinked in surprise, briefly awe-struck.

Was that… chakra energy?

He didn’t have even a second to contemplate how she was doing it or to be impressed. He wasted no time in reaching down and grabbing her, hauling her back up onto the bridge – at the precise moment the Furies regrouped and charged at them again.

Suigetsu knelt with his back to Sakura, summoning a howling wall of water around them.

“Get on!” He shouted. Sakura, half-gasping, half-sobbing, crawled onto his back, gripping onto him as if her life depended on it. Immediately he launched forward, the defensive funnel of water continuing to rotate around them, warding the Furies back as Suigetsu transported them over the bridge as fast as his immortal legs could carry him. Gritting his teeth with resolve, he summoned another surge of flowing water that rose up from the ground and hopped onto it, riding it like a wave, allowing them much faster passage. He hadn’t wanted to resort to using too much of his abilities, because he needed to preserve chakra in case they ran into any further hiccups along the way. However, Suigetsu realised that the only real chance they had at escaping the vicious Furies and getting to the surface was for him to fully utilise the power of his element.

The Erinyes chased them tirelessly, their features terrible, contorted with cold wrath. Sakura’s stomach lurched as Suigetsu glided over the liquid flood he’d summoned, surfing left and right, taking sharp turns and rollercoaster circles that made her head spin. She briefly lost track of everything over the combined noise of the whirling force-field of water, the ear-splitting cries of the vengeful Furies and the throbbing of her head. When the world finally stopped revolving, she found that Suigetsu had drawn to a stop beside a pair of gargantuan, beautiful, intricately carved gates set between rock faces that seemed to tower up endlessly above them, disappearing into darkness. The gates were illuminated by a pair of large torches that blazed blue flame. Beyond the metal barrier was endless mist that billowed through the bars, freezing to the touch.

Sakura blinked dazedly as Suigetsu let her down, the magnitude of realisation hitting her as she spied the precise, thin slot set in a large, circular steel Uchiha crest, located in the middle of the gates. A slot meant for a sword.

——————

Watch out for more sneak peeks coming soon! Hope this gets the excitement level rising again.. long wait is nearly over, dear readers! ;)

Santa’s hat rematerializes after lucky charm fixes everything. Picking it up, Ladybug recognizes it at once and runs up to Santa to ask how he got this hat. Santa explains that a really nice boy named Adrien gave it to him when his own hat froze, and that Adrien showed him so much kindness when he was having a bad night. Ladybug is overwhelmed with affection and expresses out loud what a great guy Adrien is. Chat Noir is standing off to the side, silently crying tears of joy.

Then Santa mentions he should give it back to Adrien. Ladybug seizes the opportunity and offers to hand it back for him. Suddenly, Chat Noir realizes what’s going on and has to run back home to beat her to his room. Cue Ladrien balcony scene.

600 follower celebration

So, I’ve somehow managed to gather 600 followers.  I am shocked, and incredibly grateful.

Since I’m planning to update most of my fics, for a celebration, I offer you some 3.7K of the story I started writing ages ago for the Tomarry big bang before getting discouraged and starting on Pledged in Blood instead.  I could be persuaded to keep writing it, if people are interested.

The basic premise - Tom used his immortality and fondness for dark magic and the high he got out of dealing with the Riddles and decided to become a magical assassin.  He hurt himself on a job and broke into the nearest house for first aid, and then keeps finding excuses to come back.


Tom staggered against a nearby wall as the world rematerialized around him, the unbearable pressure fading to be replaced by an agonizing pain.  Not an injury exacerbated by his hasty apparition, but something new.  Tom pressed the hand not holding his wand to his side, fingers exploring the area where the pain was worst.  The fabric was practically soaked with blood.

Tom swore.  This was the last thing he needed.  A carefully cast severing charm had the fabric splitting, and Tom widened the tear carefully, examining the area beneath.  What he saw was far from encouraging.  There was a chunk of flesh missing from his flank, carved out neatly.

Spliched.  He’d managed to splich himself.

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Quiet little headcanon #11

[Immortal Fake AH Crew edition]

There are 2 kinds of respawns for the Fake AH Crew.

1. The “Chumbawamba” respawn – the body heals itself of whatever mortal injury it received and the crew member goes on their way like nothing happened, although it takes a while to fully recover. Things like gunshots, poisoning, drowning, illness and blood loss generally earn a Chumbawamba respawn.

2. The “Hard Reset/Lazarus” respawn – where the injury can’t be healed, for example in the case of decapitation or where the body is incinerated or otherwise dismembered to the point where it cannot recover. In these cases, the body rematerializes in perfect condition in the location nearest to where they died that is not currently being observed (Kind of a quantum-mechanics/Schrödinger thing going on there… they don’t understand it, but they don’t really question it either).

Hard Reset/Lazarus respawns are less predictable in terms of recovery time and are a lot scarier to deal with.  

Who Are You Really?

McReyes Summer Break Event–Day 2

Secrets


It was just a flash. Something McCree wasn’t even sure he saw. In a fight everything is fast and dangerous and its hard to catch everything and yet you also need to be hyper aware. So Jesse McCree wasn’t sure what he saw as he fired Peacemaker at the hooded figure (known as the mercenary called “Reaper”). His opponent had turned to black fog, avoiding injury and rushing McCree for close combat. But just before he rematerialized, Jesse could have sworn he saw a familiar face. Scared and older, with deep, black eyes, but a very familiar face nonetheless. It threw Jesse off. He would’ve been toast if it weren’t for Winston. Which he caught a lot of flack for from the others after the mission, but Jesse couldn’t be bothered. That face haunted his dreams and now it was haunting his waking life? He had to find out more about this Reaper. So he went to the only source he had.

Finding Sombra was hard in and of itself sometimes. It turned out, getting her to talk about Reaper was harder.

“You know I don’t work for free, hijo,” she said, smiling at the playful diminutive.

“Can’t this be a favor between amigitas?” he joked.

McCree had met Sombra when he was still part of Deadlock and she had “just turned” 21. He was the only person she had known and kept around for more thank a week. That made them besties in Sombra’s book.

“Maybe,” she considered, “Maybe I’ll ask for something in return later. What do you need?”

“Anythin’ you can give me on the guy they call Reaper.”

“I thought we agreed to not talk about each others work.”

“You work with him?” McCree asked, somewhat surprised but mostly excited. She would know more about him if that were the case.

“Once or twice,” she shrugged, “but I don’t know how much I can tell you, Jess. He’s a shady guy. Dangerous too–how do I even know you can handle him?”

“You know I can take care of myself,” Jesse frowned, “C’mon Sombra, you know everything about everyone. You gotta help me out. Please.”

Sombra smirked. Jesse knew begging and flattery were always good ways to get her to talk. She loved her power plays.

“How about a location? Somewhere I know he frequents. Then you can ask him anything you want.”

It would have to do. Maybe it was for the best–for McCree to make this personal. Sombra directed him to a small, abandoned house in the middle of Nowhere, California. McCree watched it for hours as the sun set in the distance, unsure of what to do, unsure if this was right, unsure if Reaper was even there. Eventually, he slipped down to the house to peer into the nearest window. It was dark. Jesse couldn’t see a thing.

“Well shit,” he huffed, “Now what?”

“Now what, indeed, cabron?”

The voice sent chills down Jesse’s spine. He fully expected to see the same face from before but when he turned he was met with the cold, white owl mask of Reaper.

“Huh,” McCree put on a proud smirk, “So Sombra wasn’t lyin’ then.”

“No, Sombra mislead you,” Reaper sneered (as much as one can in a mask).

“Or did she mislead you?” McCree replied, still dangerously smug.

That made his target pause.

“Why are you here?” Reaper growled.

“Why are you?” Jesse was pretty sure he’d be dead if Reaper wanted him to be, so this was all very suspicious. The question was an honest one because of that. But Reaper didn’t seem keen to answer any questions, so Jesse sighed in mild defeat. “I want to know…Who are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who are you, Reaper?” Jesse looked up at him, “Who are you really?”

It seemed McCree was really throwing Reaper for a loop. The dark figure stayed quiet for a moment.

“Why would I tell you?”

“I dunno,” McCree confessed, “Maybe just ‘cause I’m askin’. Maybe that means I already know.”

It was probably risky, playing aloof, but Jesse was never one for safety. And besides, if he was right about Reaper’s real identity, then it would work and maybe he still wouldn’t kill McCree. It was tense for a moment. Then Reaper seemed to melt and McCree realized he was turning to smoke again.

“Gabe wait!” Jesse panicked, reaching out to stop him from fleeing.

“I’m not leaving, hijo.”

Gabriel Reyes cupped Jesse’s cheeks in his still clawed hands and looked down at him. Now that he had a better look, Jesse could see that the ages hadn’t been kind to his old…boss. He reached up, tracing a scar down Gabe’s cheek. Gabe’s black eyes stared down at Jesse and it sent shivers down his spine. Gabe frowned and dropped his hands.

“Walk with me, kid.”

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

“I thought you were dead.”

Jesse broke the silence between him and Gabe as they sat on the roof of the small house, sharing some drinks of dubious origin. Gabe took a long swig from his bottle and sighed.

“I was.”

“Uh, perdoname?”

“I was dead,” Gabe growled, “and better for it.”

“But…”

“It was that…witch. Ziegler.”

“Ziegler? Mercy?”

Gabe let out a bitter bark of a laugh.

“What a fucking name…Mercy.

“I’m sorry, boss,” Jesse mumbled over his bottle after a pause.

“I don’t need you’re apologies,” Gabe spat.

“Is she why you’re working with…Talon?” Jesse asked.

“I’m with Talon ‘cause they don’t ask questions. They have money. And they have some good ideas.” Gabe turned to glare at Jesse, “Ideas you shared when I dug you out of that Deadlock shit pile.”

“Well maybe things have changed,” Jesse frowned, leaning back and holding out his prosthetic arm, admiring it almost. “Maybe I’ve changed.”

Gabriel stared at it too.

“Si. Maybe you have, vaquerito.”

Jesse turned to face Gabe to say something–anything–but he was gone.

Prompt: “Oooooh! what about a proposal? Either Jim or Spock. For the life of me I can’t pick…” - @dani-fae

Word Count: 731

Author’s Note: I like the way this one turned out :) I hope you enjoy my dears!

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anonymous asked:

random prompt: oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck nursey just accidentally sent that sappy pathetic lovesick text to the group chat instead of to lardo and everyone else knows exactly who the redhead i mention is fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck can i steal his phone maybe? have an aneurysm?

They’ve been at the library for the past forty minutes, Dex working on some code he needed to finish and Nursey trying to start his essay that’s due next week. The essay is important, and he really needs a good grade on it, but he can’t fucking concentrate. He feels like a lovestruck puppy, sitting here trying to sneak looks at Dex every few seconds, but he can’t make himself stop. He fires off a quick, mopey text to Lardo, because she’s a perceptive motherfucker who picked up on his little crush months ago and therefore became his go-to for Dex-related angst.

I’m so in love with him. He’s sitting across from me and he’s doing that thing where he bites his lip and scrunches his eyebrows up and it’s so fucking cute. And he’s got that stupid fucking hat on backwards over his dumb red hair and I’m supposed to be writing a paper on the French feminism movement in poetry but instead I just wrote the word “freckles” 524 times. Literally 524 times. Word counter says so. I’m in so deep. Send help.

He puts his phone down and tries to go back to his essay, only to get distracted when the screen lights up a second later with a text from Holster that just reads “??????”

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