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palettepainter · 3 years

Note

I’ve got post vaccine (moderna gang) shivers so I need to express fluff headcanons to spread good vibes

When Ecto was planning to propose, he had to keep it so hush hush because Higari can easily find things out. He didn’t tell anyone but higaris mother and his own parents. He was very happy that Higari was actually surprised with the proposal. Higari wears the rings on a necklace- his quirk doesn’t exactly make wedding rings easy to find.

As much as Higari prefers being a support hero, search and rescue jobs that go smoothly it’s very rewarding. He often checks up on those he’s managed to rescue, keeps in touch with some too. There’s this lovely older woman who he rescued from a crumbling retirement home who sends him baked goods every holiday. He visits her every month for tea.

When Ecto is sick, Higari cares for him easily. Even when Ecto acts like he isn’t sick. He’ll make him soup, make sure he’s resting, cold compress on his forehead. As stubborn as he is, ecto appreciates it.

Higaris favorite memory with his dad is digging around in the yard with him. Since they had the same quirks, it worked out. He showed him how to carve tunnels without the ground crumbling, or just played around in the dirt. There’s a picture of Higari when he was three, covered in dirt with his head peaking out of a hole. His dad was grinning, sitting near by like he was cheering him on. Sometimes, especially on days where thinking about his dad is hard, he’ll tell Ecto stories.

As someone who also got shivers after getting a vaccine I know the feeling, how you’re doing well!

Ecto proposing, Yes! I love the idea of Ecto proposing to Higari, and his rugged flirting smirking self just crumbles in the face of Ecto holding a ring to him. Ecto’s eyes are so full of love and he has such a soft grin on his face that Higari can’t help but tearing up, he tries to think of something flirty to say back, but he just can’t. He’s overwhelmed - probably ended up tackling Ecto in a hug with a big kiss, which threw Ecto off guard, thinking at first maybe he’d overwhelmed Higari when he started crying.

Higari wearing is around his neck, also yes. Higari’s wedding ring is the only thing that he will spend careful hours cleaning and polishing at the end of each day to make sure it stays in good condition, wears is around UA proudly - though I imagine for interviews outside of UA or when he’s called out for hero work he leaves it at home in a special box on his dresser or safely tucks it away in a drawer in the design studio, as much as he loves wearing the rink around his neck he dreads the thought of loosing it in a rescue, or having some nosy reports pester him for answers if they catch sight of it.

With Higari’s gear I’m a firm believer he’d be a great rescue hero in say like natural disasters or if a building collapsed. With his giant robotic suit and his know how on construction he could easily map a safe route to evacuate citizens from an unstable building, or quickly find a way to clean up after a land slide. Need to move a giant tree? No problem he’ll move it no prob. Citizen can’t move because they’re leg hurts? He can carry em out to safety. Kids they rescued are bored while they’re waiting for parents to pick them up? Higari tolerates them clambering about on his hero suit like it’s a jungle gym

Anything with Higari caring for Ecto or vise versa is so wholesome! In my NGAU I imagine Higari prolly knows all the tricks to help when someone is sick, he grew up in a big house with tones of little siblings, as kids they got sick a lot with how often they played in the garden and mud, they’ve all got very strong immune systems so it’s rare Higari or his siblings get sick - but Higari still knows all the tricks to help nursing someone back to health. He remembers to give Ecto some medicine, make him some soup, hot water bottle if he’d cold, flannel if he’s too hot and plenty of liquids. A teenie tiny part of Ecto might even enjoy all the attention, appreciating Higari’s concern. Too bad Higari is too stubborn to actually treat himself when he’s sick, with how little he gets sick he doesn’t take it all that seriously - thankfully Ecto is a patient man with many clones, so is willing to drag Higari back to bed if needed XD

And the last one with his dad...

Anon: Are you trying to make me cry-

In my NGAU Powerloader’s dad was all over him, spoiled Higari so so much. Spent many lazy afternoons slacking off work when the missus wasn’t looking to play around with Higari (bragged for like a week straight that he got his quirk, proud dad moment). Higari’s mother came out into the garden to see how the boys where doing, she finds her husband and toddler son covered head to toe in dirt and mud. She gets angry at them, insisting the two need a bath if they want to have dinner. Toddler Higari hated baths from the day he was born apparently, and it’s only until dear old papa gives him a bath is he willing to get clean. His dad puts bubbles in Higari’s hair, and Higari splashes bubbles onto his dads beard, who then makes a silly face to make Higari laugh. Too bad only one hour after tea the two got dirty again-

The first time Higari used his quirk was when he was outside with his dad. His dad was working on fixing up the shed, Higari sitting in a small play pen outside with some toys while his dad stood close by, able to work while also keeping an eye on Higari. Higari, bored of playing with his building blocks, begins to drag his little hands at the ground, and before he knows it he’s tunneling his way to freedome beyond the bounds of his baby playpen. This kind of scneario probably ensued:

Kaigo (PL’s dad): Phew *picks up tool box and turns around* Alright sweetpea, time to go back insi- *freezes when he sees the playpen is empty, and no baby in sight* W-WHAT?! *drops tool box, and rapidly looks around* Uh- H-Higari?! Sweetpea?! Where’d you go?? Come to dad, this isn’t funny! *rushes around a bit*

Higari: *tunnles his way up to the surface in his mothers flowerbed, a small pile of dirt with a flower sticking out the top sitting on his head*

Kaigo: *searching in the bushes* H-Higari?! Higari! Where are you?! *mumbles* Shit I took my eyes off him for two minutes! Where the hell could he-

Higari: BAPA!

Kaigo: *jumps and whirls around*..*heaves and sigh and rushes over* Oh thank god! *scoops him into his arms for a hug* You stupid lil’ ankle biter! Don’t you ever do that again! *holds him out at arms length* How in the world did you even get out??

Higari: *sneezes from the dirt, making the flower fall off his head*

Kaigo:..Wait. Did..D-Did you, DIG your way out?!

Higari: *incoherent baby noises*

Kaigo;...Ooooh you are in SO much trouble young man, you know how many years off my life you just took? Huh?...*scowls as Higari giggles* Oh so you think this is FUNNY?-

Higari: *grabs his nose* BA!

Kaigo:............*sighs* You’re damn lucky you’re cute, you know that?...Uh, how about we DON’T tell your Ma about this, okay?

Ever since then his dad had to watch him like a hawk, one minute Higari was sitting playing with his toys, the next he was trying to dig his way to the other side of the world. When he was old enough his dad did give him some lessons in how to dig safely so the ground wouldn’t become unstable. I imagine Higari may have madea few tunnels as a kid that where too close to the surface, and his very unsuspecting mum and dad would just sink into the ground collapsing an old tunnel Higari made. And Higari having pictures?? YES. His mum probably has a whole stash of pictures of Higari as a baby playing outside with his dad and her. Including the embarrassing photos, the kind of photos Higari would never want Ecto to see, but his mum showed him anyway.

Now I wanna write angst with Powerloader and his dad aaaaa-

#Powerloader #Powerloader family #MHA #Headcannons #Higari

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milasartblog · 3 years

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Valentine’s Gift

When Valentine comes, there is always a rush with buying gifts for beloved ones. From small souvenirs to large bouquets of beautiful flowers. It's hard to find a good gift, not talking about flowers. Especially if the person is allergic to them. And yet, flowers are the perfect gift for those who can't find right words to say to their soulmates. Which meand long work day for flower shop owners. Iris was just giving another bouquet of flowers to a man.

Iris: Thank you for purchasing our flowers! Hope your beloved one will like them. Happy Valentine's Day!

She smiled as the customer thanked her and went out of the shop. Iris couldn't help, but sigh. It was the fifteenth customer for the whole day and the day was not over yet.

Iris: I'm still surprised how many people remember about gifts late. Well, work is work. I hope I can finish till our meeting time.

She came to check the condition of flowers, humming a nice melody. Her shop was full of red and pink decorations, perfect for Valentine's Day. Suddenly, Iris got into thinking.

Iris: I wonder how lonely people like me celebrate Valentine's Day. I mean, it's a holiday for couples, right? Can friends celebrate it too? In a platonic way? Like walking time or a movie time with good food?

She thought more as shook her head.

Iris: I'm just thinking too much. If I manage to finish my work early, I can get ready for the meeting.

She got determined as patiently waited for the next customer. Little did she know that at such days customers appear more than usual. Several hours passed as the evening reached to her town and her place. Iris was just finishing with the last package as looked at the clock.

Iris: Oh my God, I'm so late! I need to get ready fast. Gabriel is probably waiting for me outside, in such cold weather....Or he already left because of me being late...

She looked down sadly, but still went to put on her coat and prepare her shop for closing. She checked her phone for any missing message or call, but to her surprise, there was none of them.

Iris: Huh? Weird, I thought that he will try to call me, to ask why I'm late. Maybe he forgot about our meeting?

With such question she put her phone into the pocket and walked to the door. She was about to step outside, as suddenly she bumped into someone.

Iris: I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- Gabriel?

Gabriel: I-Iris! Here you are. I got so worried. Is everything okay?

Iris: Oh, yes, everything is fine. Sorry for being late, I just didn't expect so many people to come to my shop. And because of it, I had to work more.

Gabriel: Oh, I see. That's okay, it's just me being worried as usual. Sorry if I didn't call you.

Iris: That's okay. You're probably still getting used to the phone.

She giggled softly as Gabriel smiled awkwardly, knowing that she said the truth. Suddenly, she noticed that Gabriel was hidding something behind his back.

Iris: What is behind you, Gabriel?

Gabriel: Behind? W-Where?

Iris: Behind your back.

Gabriel got nervous more as his face colored in pink.

Gabriel: Well, umm, you know what day it's today, right?

Iris: I do, it's Valentine's Day. Oh, by the way, it's because of it I was late.

Gabriel: I-I see. Umm, since it's a holiday, even tho not that big like New Year or Christmas, I was thinking that....It would be nice to...

He tried to collect his thoughts as Iris was confused for a moment. Then she began to blush a bit too. Seeing such reaction, Gabriel bowed and gave a gift to Iris, blushing so much.

Gabriel: Please accept this pretty casual gift in a form of chocolate!

He said it in one breath as Iris blushed even more. She was not expecting such gift from her friend, moreover like this. Iris could only hope for a usual walk, but this was new.

Iris: Gabriel...You didn't have to-

Gabriel: I-I wanted to do it. I thought that...even friends deserve a nice gift for such day, right? I-I mean, in a platonic way. Yeah. And I mean it.

He tried so hard not to scream from embarrassement, not looking at Iris for a moment. Then, suddenly, Iris giggled kindly, still blushing.

Iris: It's so sweet of you, Gabriel. Thank you so much. I will gladly accept your gift.

Gabriel looked at Iris with a surprised look. He was so happy and yet so stunned as Iris took the gift and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back.

Gabriel: Y-You're welcome, Iris.

He smiled too as they looked at each other.

Iris: So, umm, is the walk still in?

Gabriel: Walk? Oh, yeah, it is! S-Sorry, I just-

Iris: Hehe, that's okay. I should be sorry. You prepared such nice gift and I didn't do anything for you.

Gabriel: Oh, that's okay, really. I still wanted to do it. No need to be sorry for it.

Iris: Still, I will try to prepare something for you too. It's just my habbit to give something back for the gifts.

Gabriel: Oh, I see. Well, shall we go somewhere or just back home?

Iris: Hmmm, if you're not too busy, we can go to one cafe. Let me just close the shop and we can go.

Gabriel: Sounds good to me.

They smiled as Iris closed the door and locked her shop with the keys. Checking the door, Gabriel and Iris finally could start their walking time. Almost all the way they were chatting and laughing as they sometimes held their hands. Little did Iris know how much Gabriel struggled with himself about the gift and about his feelings towards her.

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

And that's another story for our universe^^ It was supposed to be a yesterday story, but stuff happened XD Still, I hope you will like it^^

Gabriel and Iris belong to @wildstarfan and @milasartblog (both me)

Okaria et Feria belongs to @wildstarfan and @captainthane

#my art #oc #oc character #okaria et feria #angel #archangel #gabriel #iris #gift #chocolate #happy valentine's day #valentine's day #meeting #flower shop

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darkgunslinger · 4 years

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Saving Zim Extras/shorts

These are scenes from Saving Zim by Dib07 that didn’t make the final cut. There are many more scenes like these that I left out, but these are some of the ones I did not show in the FFN story due to them being scrappy bits and pieces - but still, I hope they can be enjoyed for what they are XD

The current series can be found here!

Scene: the professor’s garden

The professor was in his main study, overlooking datasheets on his chemical production. On his desk was a small swilling vessel of bright pink emulsions beside two computers and a blood analyser machine. Things were always making noises in here as machines and computers cranked and clonked out results. It was music to the professor’s ears.

“Hi, urm... Mr. Membrane?”

He looked round, and appeared to be smiling behind his neck collar. “Yes, what is it my girl?” He saw that she was holding his little patient.

“Are the outside doors locked?”

“Go through the back way, it’s all open. Why?”

“I’m taking the little guy outside while it’s warm and sunny. He’s been a bit... despondent.”

“It could be the medication he’s on.”

“Some days he’s really chatty and coherent. Then there are days where he’s like this.”

The professor paused, perhaps conflicted with what to suggest. “Just don’t have him outside too long! There is no insulation in his body to help keep him warm.”

She already knew, but nodded anyway. “And just where is Dib?”

“Still hard at work preparing for the little house guest! Here. Call him.” He whisked out his own personal Samsung Mega Xtreme 36 phone.

Thanking the professor, she sat on one of the plastic seats in the hallway outside his door and called his home number. Zim was looking lazily around, preferring to stay cuddled against her.

She waited through the dial tones. He answered on the fourth ring. “It’s just me, Dib! When are you getting back?”

“Oh, hi Clara! Getting back?” There was a pause. She could hear music in the background. “An hour or two tops. I still have these little step ladders to put up. I can’t remember where I put the drill.”

“Can you come over?”

“Why? Is everything okay?”

“Zim’s not quite himself.”

Zim, hearing most of her side of the conversation, rolled his little pink orbs skyward in exasperation.

She disconnected the call. She lowered it from her ear, and then looked down at the Irken resting against her chest. She gave him a little cuddle. “He said to tell you that he’s on his way.”

He nodded.

After giving back the phone to the professor, she headed for the double doors. They were made from heavy oak, and were used as flood shutters in case of stormy weather. She stepped out into the open sunshine. They were inundated with bright, cheery birdsong, and amongst the uncut waves of deep green grass were early April butterflies that glanced along the stems like aerial dancers.

Zim’s remaining antenna became attentive to these outdoor noises.

“It’s beautiful out here. Didn’t realize it was so warm.” Clara mused. She didn’t follow the stone path. Instead she headed across the grass in just her plimsolls. There was the wooded area, and the rockery. Midges were flying in the air in roaming clouds. She was careful to keep the flies off him.

“Isn’t it...dangerous o-out here? Won’t someone s-see m-me?” She felt him tremble.

“No, don’t worry! This place is closed off; it’s all private, see? And no one’s getting over the brick walls that surround this place. It’s secure.”

She wondered how much he was caring to see, or if he was just looking at it all with closed indifference. Sometimes it was hard if not imposable to read what was going on behind his eyes.

They reached a stone bench that had green lichen growing along its lion-like feet. She lifted him from her lap and perched him on it. He could lean back if he wanted, thanks to the wooden backrest. He sat there a moment, looking startled as if he’d been teleported to a different world. Then he looked around, seeing the diaphanous butterflies and the fat, lazy bumble bees that hovered over a patch of tangled jasmine. The sunshine made him look paler, giving him a haunted look.

“This is nice!” She said, leaning back beside him, watching his reactions carefully. “You forget how dark it is inside buildings until you go out into the sunshine.”

They shared a serene sort of silence. Clara started to wish she’d brought a book with her, something to take his worried mind off things. Zim was looking around and was picking up on everything. This fresh air was the best he’d had all month. Always he seemed to stoop and shrivel beneath the weight of his own shadow, so it was good to see him sit up a little more and become alert to things he’d usually ignore. But. He was still frightened of pain. She could see it on his face.

A butterfly circled them, gliding on a lofty warm breeze. But when a bluebottle landed on Zim’s shoulder, she grew angry, and flicked it off him. He smelt of medicine, antiseptic and fresh linen, but beneath it all there was still the cloying smell of illness.

The moment of serenity seemed to leave him most suddenly, as if a cold wind had blown into his soul. He looked down, and his right antenna stopped picking up the slightest feather-sound of butterflies.

“Zim? Hey? Are you cold? Should I bring you back inside?” But she knew the depression would follow him there too.

He said nothing; just stared at the grass below his dangling little boots.

She knew to watch him for any signs of a seizure. The Irken hadn’t shown any such signs, not to her, and she hoped never to witness it. If they always started with a nosebleed, it gave them forewarning before he went down.

“Dib’s on his way I promise.” He was always the cure to Zim’s gloom. He’d bring a deck of cards, and they’d play games on the bed. “Hey,” she began, hatching an idea, “how about we collect flowers? Whoever gathers the most, wins!” It was so lame really, anybody would see straight through her attempts, but Zim’s unfocused gaze began to clear.

She got off the bench, and he slid down, following with more caution in his step. The tall grass was a little bit difficult for him to navigate, his right antenna bobbing with every step. When it looked like he would fall she scooped his hand in hers and kept him balanced. But there was more determination in his step than there had been in the lab. Out here there were no bars for him to look upon: no reminders that he was in a cage. The gloom of it had filled his eyes: the cage was now inside.

But out here his eyes seemed to drink in the light. The blue of Earth’s sky was something he appreciated. No longer was he slouching with a dismal frown crowning his sadness.

Slipping out of her hand, he limped to a thick glen of grass where he had a choice of flowers. He gave them a brief look of intensity, his militarism always shining through. Then he stooped and picked out a daisy. He seemed unusually hesitant to pluck it from its long stem. Dib often said that Zim was a destroyer, and cared not for what he smashed and ruined.

His claws snapped the stem, and he lifted it up, gazing at its white petals.

“That’s a daisy.” She told him. “Many people see them as weeds, but I’ve always liked daises. I used to make a chain out of them for a necklace when I was little.”

He baulked, as if he found the idea ridiculous, and stared at the daisy as if he could see where the Velcro was hiding. She laughed, hoping he wouldn’t take offence. He did cock his head at her, and look dismayed, as if he was trying to suss mockery, but then he gave her a relaxed, happier look. “Don’t you have a better use for your t-time?” He asked.

“I can make one for you.”

He looked back at the flower, suddenly crestfallen.

She didn’t want him to think that he had lost a part of himself just because he’d lost parts of the machine on his back.

Don’t let the PAK define you, Zim. You define the PAK, not the other way around.

His raucous coughing cut short the moment, and dark fright was in his eyes again.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” She rubbed his shoulder, giving him time and reassurance. He was frightened of pain and how it made him feel.

He kept hold of the daisy, passing it to her, as if silently asking her to make something out of it.

Clara stooped and plucked a red tulip. When Zim reached for a big purple thing bristling in barbs, she gently pushed his hand away. “That’s a thistle, honey. Leave it be.”

“Why are these things so different?”

“Well, they are different types, for different purposes.”

And that’s when he found it. It was growing in shadow and under the ivy clasping the rightwing of the building. It was as beautiful as he. He crouched low, looking at it in something that might have been wonder.

It was a rose so dark that it looked like it had been stained in blood. He went to touch it, hold it maybe, or pull it up, and he suddenly shied back, jabbing his claw into his mouth. A green droplet of blood hung from one of its thorns.

“That’s a rose, Zim.”

“A r-rose?” He asked, looking up at her. He took his claw out of his mouth and inspected the prick.

“They’re beautiful, but they have thorns.”

“W-Why?”

“To protect themselves. Not all flowers are defenceless.”

He looked for more roses but there was only the one. It stood, as if defiant: alone, but vibrant even as it existed in shadow. It looked parts fragile, its delicate petals all blood-red silk, but its thorns could not be mistaken.

Zim sat back, admiring it. She thought he might try and snap it from the stem in the ground, but he did not. Clara watched, thinking he was so like a rose, slender and graceful, but prickly beneath.

“It grows from dirt.” He summarised, as if this was what confused him.

“It does. All things grow from it.”

“So how can this thing be so...?”

“Beautiful?”

He grunted.

She pushed his boundaries again by squeezing a comforting hand on his birdlike shoulder. He gave that childish look of trust. One day she hoped he’d look at her in the same way he looked at Dib.

“The Earth can grow and nurture beautiful and delicate things that are found nowhere else in the universe.”

He pouted, finding her claim hard to believe when he’d seen that universe, however partial. But he could not deny her either. In all his travels, he had never found something as beautiful as a rose.

He went to reach for it, and drew away again.

Dib had explained to her that he had meant to hand this planet over to his leaders. Failure meant execution or exile. It helped to explain the weight he seemed to carry.

She could see it on his face that he was struggling to accept the beauty in front of him, but he was seeing it.

“But they grow f-from dirt.” He insisted. “How do they do that? What’s in the dirt? What’s so special about it?”

“Earth’s soil is fertile, and it has all the minerals in it that plants need to grow.” She supposed that even if she took the trouble of drawing him up a chart with diagrams to help explain it, he still wouldn’t get it.

His mouth set stubbornly, wanting to understand, yet disbelieving how anything could be that simple.

He had a childish wonder, but also an insistent need to understand and uncomplicate things, even when things were perfectly okay to let wonders be.

He stood up, and precariously wobbled a moment before he chose to leave the rose perfectly where it was. He went back to picking other flowers, and always so daintily did he take from the stem in strange reluctance.

Soon he had a little bouquet of many different things; a clump of jasmine, a dandelion, buttercups, lavender, bluebells and tulips. He was attracted to all things colourful, and the unkempt garden was quite full of these treasures, but it was the deadly rose he liked most of all.

A little while later he sat warming himself in a patch of sunshine on her lap with his eyes closed as she worked at lacing daises together. He had been attracted by the magic of watching her weave daises at first, but he’d soon grown tired.

With half a daisy chain complete, she soon heard someone calling. The Irken’s antenna jerked and then rose higher, his eyes cracking open.

“Hey you two!” Dib’s boyish and cheery voice called to them across the grounds.

Zim looked round immediately, and sunshine filled his eyes. “Dib!” He called back in his broken voice.

“Been looking all over for you guys!” He returned, shaking his head as he plodded across the grass, hands in his pockets. “Dad said you were mooching out in the garden.”

“We’ve been enjoying the sunshine.” Clara said with a smile.

Dib noticed their collection of flowers, and the tidy string of daises his fiancée was making. “What have you two been doing?”

“Picking flowers.” Zim piped up.

The human sat next to him. “The space boy has been picking flowers?”

“Hey, don’t tease him.” Clara defended in all seriousness. “We’ve been enjoying it.”

Dib chuckled and rubbed the little guy’s shoulder. “Uh huh. And how’s my favourite alien today? Not got the blues, I hope?”

“I’m green.” Zim said in stupid innocence.

Clara said as she joined the last daisy. “Here you are. A daisy chain of your own!”

She lowered the white ring of daises around his neck. He straightened a tad and touched them with a claw. “Thank you!” He said. “Gir made daisy chains. But I... I never....”

“Maybe you should have made him a crown, Clara.” Dib joked to dispel Zim’s moroseness, “It might have suited him better.”

They walked back to the building. Zim looked over Dib’s shoulder and watched as the rose grew smaller and smaller until it became a speck of red under dark pools of shadow.

Scene: Zim’s second night with his humans at home

Surviving this unfamiliar dystopia exhausted him.

He pushed the door open, expecting to see that silly bathtub for dolls filled to the brim, and found it hard to hide the dismay opening on his countenance when he saw her sitting, waiting there by a basin of hot bubbly water. Stacked close by were soft fluffy towels, and placed by her knees was one of those water-proof mats that was large enough for him to lay on. She was dipping her hand into the bubbly water, testing its temperature.

Clara looked over at him, her eyes impossible to read. She smiled, trying as she was to appear reassuring, and he hoped the expression was as genuine as her intentions.

“Whenever you’re ready Zim, you can take off your robe.”

But he wasn’t ready.

He stood rooted like a statue as he held the opening of the purple robe tightly to his chest. He felt the cool of his nakedness under there, and the uninviting chill beyond the cocooning fabric. Why couldn’t she just leave him be?

“Zim?” Her question made his right antenna ring. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head, hardly believing he was suffering human help and kindness he was still so afraid to trust in. He’d believed that if he kept moving, if he kept going forwards, he’d be unstoppable. Now he could not move for fear of pain.

He clung on to whatever he could when defeat had him sink to the deepest depths. Looking back, even slightly, filled him with horror, but a glimpse that way also revealed what he had overcome.

Clara maintained her smile despite his stony silences. “It’s okay, Zim. I won’t bite.”

Zim peered over at the bubbly water in the bowl. He’d suffered their sponge-baths over the weeks, and not once did the water sting or burn him. The sight of it however still filled him with the instinctive distrust of it: being on Earth had stamped many fears and uncertainties into his heart, and he was not familiar with what was safe and what wasn’t without the sanctions of his computer.

“Here. Let me.” Clara walked over, knelt down by his indisposed form and slipped off the long and soft purple robe. His eyes took on a frightened, miserable cast, as if being naked opened up new ways of being disgraceful. It didn’t matter how many times he was stripped and then clothed again; whenever he was bare before them, self-loathing and shame crowded the colour in his eyes.

He tried to hide himself behind skinny arms and skinny claws.

Hands touched his shoulders. He tensed, emitting a squeaky growl.

Her gentleness was unreal. Every time she touched him, his defences rose to the rafters, expecting something malignant beneath her contact. Life was hard edges, mistrusts, hate and pain. Without Membrane’s protection, he was adamant that Clara would change from her superficial gentleness into something else.

She guided him over to the water-proof mat. “Sit on the mat, honey, and relax.”

He gave her that sharp, assertive look, and she knelt beside him, waiting, showing infallible patience. Her smile was fading at the edges, her eyes more confused than anything.

“Leave m-me.” Please. “I d-don’t n-need y-your h-help.”

“Being stubborn isn’t going to help you, Zim. And just because you’ve left the lab doesn’t automatically mean you’re out of the woods. You are still convalescing. Now, are you going to argue, or are you going to sit down?”

His eyes shifted to the mat, and back to her.

Fighting her, he could see, was going to get him nowhere.

Stiffly, he sat down, making sure to keep his bony legs over his crotch area.

“After we get you clean and snuggled up, I’ll make you some soup. How does that sound?” He nervously watched as she dunked the sponge into the bubbly water. She lifted it up and he instinctively tensed, eyes screwing shut, fists clamped. “You carry so much tension in your shoulders.” He felt her knead the sponge into his back under the PAK’s mantle. He’d expected the water to be tepid, but the sudden heat of it was a wonderful surprise. Then she worked the sponge into and around his neck. The moan came out before he could stop it in time.

This is really... really nice...

There was little use resisting the flexes of his right antenna. As a cat communicated joy through its ears or tail, he did the same thing with his antenna.

Her eyes were looking him over as she cleaned him, checking for any new bruises or marks that would indicate bedsores or signs of self-harm.

Though he was not answering, she chatted away with the same attention and care. “Is there anything you want to work on first? Or what you’ll want to build?”

“Se-security.” He choked.

“You don’t need to tackle everything at once. You’ll still get it all done, Zim. Just enjoy the day as well.”

He began to lean a little more into the sponge-massages, eyes lowering from the soporific heat. The sponge-baths were usually brisk and quick affairs so that they didn’t exact too much energy from him and so that he didn’t get too cold.

She threw a towel over his shoulders and proceeded to massage him dry.

Zim had to secretly admit that they were providing a damn good service even if their help was still making him tense with shame, but for a moment he allowed himself the comfort.

She was careful with him as he was mostly all bone, with little to no insulation protecting his organs.

Clara had fresh nightwear ready just an arm length away. He woodenly replied, stretching out each arm as best he could, and felt the fluffy soft material cloak his littleness. He knew he would sweat through this too, and he sighed.

“There. That’ll soothe those shivers away.”

How did she never find this strange? Perhaps in the lab there had been a sense of displacement, of surrealism when you had a fantastical scientist hurrying about with his fanatical machines and caring for an exotic otherworldly creature, but here, in an ordinary house, she acted as though she was looking after someone she had known for a long time. He tried to see past her affections, her warmth to spy the truth. But he could never find anything other than her sincerity.

“You wanna go for some homemade soup?”

They were always propelling food his way. “Not r-really hungry.”

“That’s okay, just manage what you can.” She picked up the basin and sluiced the used water down the big human-sized bathtub’s plughole. Seeing that as his cue, he woozily climbed to his feet. The floor tilted just a little before righting itself again, but the fleck of dizzying colours took longer to leave his vision.

She noticed. She came over, knelt down and wrapped an arm around him. “Do you feel okay, honey?”

The question was so very simple, and yet it entailed too much.

Zim only leaned into her, tired and dizzy. His lower legs were shaky. He had been dependent on his self-sufficient self-healing PAK - and he had never needed to give pause and regard his injuries – only to ever see them as novel and irrelevant inconveniences.

Living in this mortal hell without this reliability made him that much more careful and that much more timid. Every little bit of pain was much more terrifying and much more intimate.

They told him that he’d get stronger, with time. He didn’t believe them.

“Let me take you to bed, Zim. It’s no trouble.” Her arms went around him. He fetched a set of claws into the fabric of her cardigan to hold on when she spooned him into her arms. Her hold was secure, and there was never a moment where he felt she might drop him, but for insecurity’s sake he held on anyway.

She carried him back into his softly lit bedroom. The nightlight was painting the ceiling with dappling colour. When she set him down on the bed, she immediately bundled up his legs and torso, and shored up the pillows so that he could lean against them. He had long stopped stiffening or shrinking away whenever she went near or touched his PAK.

“I’m going to heat up your supper. You snuggle down and rest.”

“Cl-Clara h-human?” His choke was filled with what sounded like water.

“Yes, honey?”

“Can I h-have something to d-drink?”

“Of course. Do you have anything in mind?”

He shook his head.

“That’s okay, I’ll get you something.”

His wrinkled fuchsia eyes were drawn to her with a heavy intensity.

“Zim. Everything will be okay. Just remember that we’re here to support you, and protect you. This isn’t a limited affair. This is for life.” She reached out, and stroked his cheek. His fear cooled: sliding away like shadows after the lights had been turned on.

When she left, he sat, cupping the blanket to his chest. He sipped in breath, gladdened when there was no wall of pain. Lying down all night made the coughing worse and he had scrunched up, hacking and spluttering until he was coughing up blood. Now he was breathing easy – and the scary event seemed far, far away.

He waited for her to return, looking for her company. Being alone wasn’t quite as welcoming as it used to be, so he tried to hide the smile when she returned with a little tray of food.

“Just manage what you can, honey.” She set the food on the bed tray after positioning it over his lap. Though hardly hungry, his spooch grumbled.

He reached for the cup of honeyed milk, and he slurped it down, his thirst seemingly increasing with every gulp. Before he had scarcely begun, she was prying the cup out of his little claws. “Not so fast, Zim! You can have some more in a little while. Wait for that to go down first.”

“Who d-do you t-think y-you a-are?” He rasped.

She frowned at him, as if she had hoped their relationship wouldn’t backtrack like this, and that she might be spared his anger. “The voice of reason. Be my guest if you want to vomit down your nice new clothes and bed sheets.”

A dangerous glitter intensified in his eyes as he looked up at her, stupefied by her sudden sharpness. She didn’t back down. His right antenna bobbed up and down, and the querulous fire in his eyes dissipated. “You su-sure are bossy.”

“Well, someone’s got to look after you. We both know you’re terrible at it.” She said with more kindness. “You can bark at me all you like, but I’ve got a job to do, and nothing you say or do will stop me from doing it.”

That made him cock his head slightly, expression softening.

“Now try some soup. It isn’t all that bad.”

“D-don’t stand there – w-watching me.” He grunted.

She couldn’t help but shake her head, smiling at his stubbornness. “All right, all right. Just don’t forget to use your napkin.”

He gave her a long look to make sure she was leaving him in peace before he lifted up a spoon and dipped it into the soup.

Scene: getting some private time

“Zim, stop messing with the power! For five minutes!” He leant back in his desk chair, waiting for any affirmation, but it would be a miracle if the Irken had even heard. Blowing out breath, he returned to the computer and continued typing up a few measly sentences for his loosely constructed CV. He had poured over the keyboard most of the day, lost for words, and distracted by noises from a construction of a different sort. They had given up trying to stop the former soldier from ‘improving’ the house, learning quickly that there could be nothing that would stop an Irken’s wilfulness.

Clara was waiting upstairs. ‘Just a few more minutes’ he had said to her.

Dib stared at what he had painstakingly written. The skills and experience he could list all day; it was the passion that was so hard to put into words.

Just as he was about to save his work, the power died, the house fell into darkness, and so did his computer screen. “Zim!”

The power came on within seconds, the house bursting back into life. Muttering and cursing, he found Zim connecting the fuse box down in the basement with a handheld construct of his own, mostly alien in design, but made with a lot of used parts he had cobbled together.

He needed two seconds of the Irken not-getting-into-trouble or throwing the house into some sort of mode while he spent time with Clara. The lost work on his CV would have to be forgotten.

“This primitive homestead of yours is inefficient in every way.” Zim was saying before Dib had got a word in. “It’ll be months before I can get this place in working order. You just let things fall apart around you, don’t you Dib stink?” One eyelid curled down, his look sly.

Dib ran a hand across his face before sobering up and putting on his best smile. “Look, urm... there’s this really good cartoon on. You gotta see it!”

Zim hardly looked interested. “Recess can wait.”

“But it’s a special episode!”

“Then record it!”

“But...” He was running out of options. Fast. “I have no one to watch it with. Clara’s just not interested...”

Zim looked once at his handheld circuit board before reluctantly setting it down, “Very well, human, if my presence is that desperately required.”

“Good!” He put his hands on Zim’s skinny shoulders and practically steered him all the way to the lounge, the squeak coming from the heels of the Irken’s loafers dragging along the floor.

Switching on the TV, he flicked through the channels, hoping that there would be something to save him. Zim sat on the sofa using the stepping stool. “It had better be a short episode of whatever this... thing is. Work doesn’t get done by itself you know.”

“Ah here it is!” Dib said sheepishly, turning to give him a weak smile. It was a cartoon of a blue hedgehog. “Trust me! You’ll enjoy it. It gets really good!”

“It had better.”

With no time wasted, Dib flew up the stairs.

Clara sat up in bed, looking frustrated. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry! Urm, work, and Irkens.”

Before long the bed was squeaking against the wall. Zim came up less than ten minutes later, and Dib and Clara had to disengage in a tangle of limbs while he looked in on them from the doorway, holding the Gir doll. “W-What are you doing?” He croakily chirped from the doorway, eyes impossibly wide. “You’re b-both so...sweaty and noisy!”

Scene: Holograms

He left the kitchen, but returned minutes later with his laptop and electronic tablet. With the kitchen curtains drawn to dim the light, he had a number of devices laid out on the table, and when Clara came in to join them, she was impressed to see a hologram pouring out of the computer screen.

In his element, Zim drew up more schematics as easily as laying down paper and more holograms appeared. It was reflected in Dib’s glasses as he studied the projections. Clara could make neither heads nor tails of it as she stood watching them. The holograms showed vast columns of numbers, and everything that was written were in strange symbols, like runes. And accompanying these alien hieroglyphs were diagrams of a machine.

Even Dib wasn’t sitting pretty on the same page. Zim was aloof in his plans and his approaches, and even had an ingrained habit of keeping Clara and Dib at a distance as if he still had trouble trusting them. Zim had done things by himself all his life, and sharing that control wasn’t an easy thing for him.

The alien scarcely looked their way. Strips of code glowed in his bright fuchsia eyes. It was good to have him focused on something. Though he always worked there was a certain distraction in his efforts and in his focus. Now he sat with his back straight, his shoulders firm and his chin raised as he sought key coding in the stratum of alien mumbo-jumbo.

Dib forced the panic from his voice. “Is this for recreational fun, or is it for something else?”

Zim registered the English word ‘fun’ even if he did not know exactly what it meant. That word went into the same ambiguous category of words he struggled to understand the meanings to; such as sex, happiness, human humour and babies.

Dib went under the scrutiny of another long cold look.

“Earth needs protecting...” The aged Elite paused, finding the answer hard to dig up and reveal as if he had crushed it down there, inside, for so long that it was now hard to find and hard to pull it out. “Membrane will take measures to protect this dirt ball by following my instructions.”

Dib kept staring. “Did I just hear you right?”

“Oh s-shut up and stop with your g-gloating!” He snapped, rubbing at the side of his head, both eyes wincing as if working with his protégé was a real headache. After a moment he raised his stylus and drew dots and lines on a hologram that painted them in pink. Clara couldn’t stop staring as Zim drew magical lines into a magical screen. He did not seem to mind his audience, perhaps because he was expecting them to not understand a single thing he was doing.

Zim flicked a hand, and the screen’s current information and jungle of symbols was replaced by weapon blueprints. They stood tall and leaned slightly forwards like masts. “Earth is a backwater planet full of toxicity. It’s hardly worth much, but it’s still up for conquest, as is this pithy little solar system it’s in. The Earth’s sun would make a great source of fuel. It’s how energy cores are made. My Tallest may take an interest.”

When he next looked to Dib and Clara, there was relief in his eyes.

For so long he had never belonged anywhere.

Zim looked again to the hologram. He flicked his wrist, and the jumble of symbols magically metamorphed into English. “Your Membrane will build these anti-ship turrets once I provide him with the design. Their range will blanket the planet and that of your horrible star, keeping you filthy critters safe.”

Dib stood there, taking it in. He hadn’t thought of the Armada paying a visit someday. It was unlikely, but it had obviously been on Zim’s mind.

Since when had this snarling alien pulled his talents, energy and recourses into DEFENDING something?

The Irken smiled. “Wouldn’t it be funny if all they ever did was blow asteroids to little itty bitty bits? The planet’s measly existence would continue to persist until that awful sun of yours finally implodes. Humans. Thriving for evermore. Now that disgusts me.”

Dib was about to speak; to begin verbalizing his shock and disbelief when Zim again flicked his wrist and the screen swapped out weapon blueprints for the ship’s coding. He pressed some infinitesimal transparent button on this transparent screen and a 3D image of Tak’s ship popped into existence. Dib’s heart fell heavy and it fell hard.

Zim’s plans were never that humanly plain. He was clever, and he also liked to keep his real thoughts and real plans close to his chest. He never usually did something unless he reaped the benefits, and he was a sneaky little guy. Not that Dib suspected him of doing anything underhanded with the ship.

Zim. You can’t fly. What do you intend to do?

Just nod and smile at him. Creative outlet and all that, yes dad I remember. This had better not bite me in the ass.

Using a stylus, Zim reached up, and traced a line around the front of the vessel.

“Ooh, that’s pretty. What does that do?” Clara pointed at something that almost looked like a metal flower of alien grotesquery. It spun slowly in the hologram, looking like some hellish rose. It was probably the main core engine, with all its tapering pipes and elements.

Zim, bathed in pink from the screens, gave her an amused, beady look, and quite happily and croakily bragged about core drives, their compounds, auxiliary turbines, a feln guard, plasma charging cells, a hubbard, and so on. Clara looked bewildered in under three seconds of his wistful explaining.

There was no mistaking the fact that this little bastard loved attention. If he so much as looked at Clara the right way, she’d pick him up and cuddle him.

“Hang on a second. What’s this thing back here?” Dib pointed at the hologram of the fuselage. “We could move that, and expand the cockpit.”

“That shouldn’t go there.” Zim’s voice was dusky and small. His hooded eyes could barely stay open but he always led the debate. If anything, Dib was the one trying to keep up with him.

“Why not?” Dib leaned back slightly. He wasn’t a complete novice when it came to repairing and redesigning machines. Irken technology was a huge leap in science and brains, but he was more or less knowledgeable on the parts, and where the power had to go. Yes, connecting it all, and hoping they’d be no leaks would be a bitch. Working with plasma would be a lot different than say, oil or fossil fuels. Zim knew how to make more plasma, and he apparently knew how to recharge the cells in the ship too. Usually a ship worked for centuries with just a power core, but Tak’s power core was too badly damaged to be used. And a damaged core was a dangerous core.

“The ship will explode, that’s why.”

“Zim. I know how to build a ship.”

“No you don’t! You don’t know anything about anything!”

Clara disappeared to make some iced tea for them, and when she returned with a tray loaded with drinks she said, “Don’t forget that Gaz is coming later.”

The very name made Zim’s antenna drop.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know him. Their paths had interwoven with Dib at the centre. She was just like any other enemy he’d had to contend with, except that she could outwit him in one breath, and leave him and his ship battered and smoking. He’d done everything to avoid her since he’d put Dib in a hospital bed – of which he’d done quite a few times. Maybe she’d be okay with his – state – and situation. Or maybe she’d barrel past Dib and Clara and hang him on the wall.

“Let’s not.” Zim said openly, carefully watching their reactions.

“She’s family, Zim. She’s got to come.” Dib patted him on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”

He had decided there and then that he would retreat to his room, barricade the door, and fashion a weapon from bits and pieces if he had to.

#just scrappy bits and stuff #invaderzim #saving zim #dib07 #lost scenes #there is more of this rubbish #Epilogue moments

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unoutan · 5 years

Text

Kacchan’s Christmas Gift Rating: Passable (A spicy Bkdk Christmas oneshot)

Originally on AO3: Unoutan. Also sorry no read more to make this post shorter since I think the ‘read more’ is still broken on this broken site, and links are hidden from searches so..... xD lol.

Merry Belated Christmas and Happy 2019 to my SSanta @godzillahtries and all of you who decided to read this oneshot! I was your n/s/f/w/pinch hitter and I hoped you like it with your prompt mentioning them being goofs in the bedroom and wearing each other's merch! I hope like it! -Unoutan

Summary: It's Christmas Eve for the married couple, snowed in for the Holiday, and Katsuki won a bet. Loser - Izuku, Winner - Katsuki. For such a bet to happen, Katsuki's Christmas gift to Izuku had to be opened early, but the gift is a gift that they'll now both enjoy~

Story: All necessary preparations for getting snowed-in within the Bakugou Midoriya home for the whole day of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day have been completed. Their hard work as heroes together allowed this well-deserved holiday vacation to happen for both Izuku and Katsuki. Now, if only Izuku would get dressed in his pre-Christmas gift faster.

“Ready yet?”

“No!”

Ten minutes pass.

“You fucking ready, yet?”

“No cursing on Christmas, and no!”

Sprawled on the center of the king bed, facing the ceiling, Katsuki tried remaining patient, but it was wearing thin. The room’s warm temperature added to his annoyance, so he wrestled out of his shirt and tossed it away. Better it warm inside their home than cold as the depths of hell that is outside.

He mentally counted to twenty, fifteen times and if Izuku wasn’t going to come out of the bathroom in ten seconds, he may lose it. “Hey, Deku, you done? It’s gonna be New Year's Eve by the time you get out of there!!” It is Christmas Eve and the longer he has to sit here in anticipation for his show for tonight, he might just beat himself off alone on Christmas. And how sad would that be for him?

“Wait, Kacchan, I’m almost finished. If I have to do this, I want to look perfect,” came Izuku’s muffled reply through the bathroom door. “If I’m doing this on the spot, I-I will fight to do it right too! I can’t rush this part...”

“You can only blame yourself for making and losing the bet on who would win the cooking competition.”

“I was rooting for her, Kacchan!”

“Whatever!! Dress up faster!” Unable to resist, Katsuki got off the bed to eavesdrop inside the bathroom where Izuku remained dormant. The faint sound of music could be heard inside, so he knocked on the door once and stated his accusation, a dull, mocking tone to his voice. “You’re researching shit on your phone.”

The club music stopped and a lie eventually followed, “...No.”

“LIAR!” Katsuki stomped back to the bed and sat on the edge. He growled out, slamming his hand on his knee. “Get out here and move your body! It’s easy! When was the last time you even danced?”

“When Ashido-san taught me how to slow dance for our wedding, and THIS IS DIFFERENT FROM SLOW DANCING!” Fed up with the coy stalling of the inevitable, Katsuki balled up Izuku’s old-as-fuck infamous ‘T-Shirt’ shirt that was on the floor and threw it at the door. The trajectory hit the middle of the door with a satisfying thump, causing the nerd within to yelp. “WAIT, KACCHAN!”

“STICK TO THE BEAT IN YOUR HEAD AND MOVE YOUR ASS, MOVE YOUR HIPS, THEN WOW, YOU’RE DANCING!” It was an oversimplification, but hip moving isn’t hard - Izuku never had a problem hip moving when he bounced himself on his cock. He bounced his leg up and down at the tantalizing thought from last night.

“KACCHAN!” The whine was replied with a mocking whine.

“DEKU!!”

“I SAID WAIT, YOU JERK! Can’t keep it in your pants for like two seconds.” The last part was muttered but wasn’t said quietly enough, even with the door closed. They’ve been married for over two years and Izuku still hasn’t learned that whenever anger or sass appears, it only gets him hot. Hotter. Crazier.

Clenching the cloth of his sweats, Katsuki growled under his breath, “Dekuuuu…”

Then the bathroom door slammed open to reveal an angry, pouty Izuku standing at the door. He sat up to get a better look at his husband. The plain white, oversized hoodie and black sweatpants would be boring if he didn’t know that underneath was his Christmas gift. The bright black heels Izuku wore at his feet were the only hint to what was hidden. “Fucking FINALLY! You ready?”

Taking a half step forward when he closed the bathroom door behind him, Izuku gulped and then took a deep breath before standing poised. “I-I will be.”

On the edge of the bed, Katsuki sat and waited for a reaction. About a minute passed before Izuku moved. Wrapping his arms over his reddened face in embarrassment, a classic pose Katsuki knew well, Izuku walked towards him and stopped an arms-reach away.

“Deku.” No response. “You hear me Deku?”

Ready for a fight, hands clenched into fists and eyes focused on him, Izuku wordlessly nodded. Katsuki loved that before-battle look.

Phone in hand, Katsuki hit ‘play’ as eager as the smirk on his face. The songs beat echoed, bouncing off the walls of their bedroom. Thanking whoever beings above that he lived long enough to witness this, Katsuki licked his lips when green eyes turned sultry, fluttering closed when hips swayed to the pulsing rhythm. It takes countless amounts of courage and trust to striptease in front of anyone, but Pro-Hero Deku is determination personified, even in the bedroom: A fact Katsuki is proudly and exclusively privy to know.

Unconsciously, Katsuki opened his legs when Deku walked closer with a hand reaching for his hoodie zipper.

Agonizingly slow, Izuku unzipped the hoodie and rolled his shoulders to let it fall down to the bend of his elbows. The reveal of skin quenched Katsuki’s thirsty eyes when Izuku the hoodie drop to the ground, exposing one-half of his holiday gift: A lacy black and orange bralette with a semi-transparent, fur-lined chiffon drape that framed his abs. The two orange X’s the bralette mimicked his Pro-Hero costume perfectly and it’s more perfect now that its in use.

Izuku raised his hands in the air as he carefully spun around. He let his hips pop to the left and right to the slam of drums. He shimmied out of his bottoms with the drums pounding hard and kicked it away with the tip of his pointed stiletto heel at the cymbals smash. Katsuki gulped at the sight of Izuku turning around to face him, confidently showing the completed ensemble.

The limited edition, copyrighted holiday-themed Pro-Hero Ground Zero lingerie official merch fits Izuku perfectly. The bralette cupped each pec perfectly and damn, the black thigh-highs and garters combo messed with Katsuki’s mind. It felt like a dream and if it was, he didn’t want the dream to end. The lacy black boy boxers looked thin; he could see the faint outline of his husband’s cock, and those shaking hips held him in a trance.

Fingers twitched, a tiny explosion sparked, but Katsuki remained still on the bed, sitting and watching the entertainment.

The shiny cloth of the long, thin, elegant gloves that are designed like his own gloves and gauntlets hugged Izuku’s arms like a second skin. Lights dimmed around them, the fight blush to his Izuku’s face could be seen when he traced up his neck. He bit the tip of his glove, yanked it off before he tossed it at him.

Before it could hit his face, the glove was caught in Katsuki’s grasp. He raised an eyebrow, but any remark he was going to make died at his lips when he saw two fingers slip inside Izuku’s mouth. Those wet fingers then trailed down trimmed abs towards Izuku’s cock but stopped barely a centimeter or two inside his underwear. The breath Katsuki held released when his favorite nerd sunk to his knees, both hands running through his hair, gripping at it playfully - like he was hinting at some hair tugging play when they both play under the covers tonight.

Halfway through the song, Izuku crawled towards him on all fours like a cat stalking prey. “Like what you see, baby?”

He didn’t know when he began biting his lip, so he stopped. “The sight ain’t half bad, you slutty nerd.”

The playful expression, Izuku’s tongue flickering out to lick his lips, made the corner of Katsuki’s mouth and his dick twitch. Hands on either side of Katsuki’s thighs as leverage to stand, Izuku rolled his body up, leaning in close to rub his chest against the middle of his legs. He knows Izuku felt the hardened excitement press against him when he stood back on those heels.

Keeping his hands respectfully away from touching those hips, Katsuki teased back by leaning his face closer, nose almost brushing against the small, silky boxers. Looking passed those boxers, above thick, sculpted thighs; Katsuki knew that something else was also hard.

His sweatpants tightened when Izuku turned around, went back on all fours between his legs, and presented his pretty round ass when he bent over to the song’s finale. He leaned his face away from that ass, embarrassed when the temptress show ended. Tone excited for feedback, Izuku asked, “Seriously, Kacchan, did you like it?”

“Passable.” Katsuki paused to make sure he would speak without stuttering like a fool.

Mouth hanging open in fake insult, Izuku repeated, “P-Passable? Only passable?”

“And I didn’t have to twist your arm, so you’d strip for me, you damn nerd. Was it hard?”

It was hard controlling his hands when those hips came closer to his face.

“Umm,” A little out of breath, he looked over his shoulder at Katsuki and admitted, “It kind of was? Emotionally it was hard.”

Tone bored, Katsuki repeated, “Emotionally. Hard.”

Turning around to sit on the floor, Izuku leaned his head on his husband’s knee and chuckled, “I don’t think I could do that again unless you paid me.”

“So, like a real stripper.” He foresaw Izuku smacking his barefoot at that, but Katsuki didn’t care because he was right...and also itching to do more than sit consumed with lustful desires. Izuku is already on his knees, so he might as well make use of that. “Tell you what, I’ll pay you the next time I want a private dance, but since this is my Christmas gift to you and I let you open it early, why don’t you open something else?”

“And what may that be?” The words were the only thing that played dumb because Izuku’s tone was eager and his right hand rubbed his inner thigh.

Tracing his thumb over Izuku’s mouth, Katsuki smiled, “And take off that dumb hat thing.”

“No, Kacchan. It’s part of the set.” Adjusting it in thought, he muttered, “Surprised it didn’t fall off. The hair clips helped then.”

The orange Santa hat with his signature ‘X’ design on it was cheesy, but whatever...Izuku made it look cute. The hat would be discarded to the floor very soon anyway.

“Don’t start muttering about that hat now too. Use your mouth for something else.”

“Are you going to ask me, Kacchan?” Leaning his face forward to slide his cheek inward against his thigh, creeping closer towards the goal, Izuku let his other hand squeeze the opposite leg. The left gloved hand rubbed his leg. “What can I do with my mouth, naughty boy?”

Out of all the naughty boys in the room that Christmas Eve, it was Izuku, that was the absolute naughtiest boy.

“I’ll show you who’s being a naughty boy, Deku.” . . Throwing the long glove at him was Izuku’s first mistake. Wrists crossed and tied behind his back, Izuku let out a muffled moan when Katsuki gripped his hair like a handle, pushing and pulling his head back and forth, mouth stuffed with his leaking cock. Lips stretched wide over the girth sliding over his wet tongue, pressing the tip against the back of the throat.

Eyes half-lidded to a close, Izuku weakly looked up at those intense red eyes watch him. Head bobbing fast, mouth open wide, Izuku squeezed his trembling legs tight as he succumbed to the pleasure of being taken like this. It felt good and Katsuki grinned when he saw those blushing cheeks become a little wet with tears - he was close. Katsuki groaned at that tongue lapping up his twitching vein at the underside of his cock, gripping onto those green locks of hair tighter.

The naughtiest boy liked the taste of his precum slipping down the corner of his mouth, moaning again as Katsuki fucked his mouth. “You like the view, Deku?”

At the question thrown back at him from before, Izuku groaned, closing his eyes with fluttering eyelashes as if he was in heaven.

But before Katsuki could cum in his mouth, he ripped himself out of that fucked-out mouth and grabbed his Izuku by the waist, tossing him onto the bed.

Izuku yelled at the rough treatment, bouncing on the bed with his body facing the stars. One stiletto heel flew off Izuku’s foot when Katsuki crawled over him with kisses trailing up those black thigh-highs and garters. Teeth pulled at the garters to snap it against the skin, causing the other man to yelp. When lips worked their way over the damp lacy cloth barely restraining Izuku’s own leaking desires, Katsuki chuckled and pulled them down. The second heel fell off when Izuku lifted his legs to help his husband remove them.

Shiny, pink, lips giggled at him. “This lovely gift of yours so far is...passable.”

Shutting up the nerd was easy when three fingers fucked his twitching hole, and only moans and gasped filled the air. A trail of lube slipped down the middle of Izuku’s ass when Katsuki stretched and curled his fingers inside. Mouth pressed against the skin of Izuku’s neck, Katsuki whispered, “This passable enough? Orrr-”

“A-ah! K-Kacchan!” He pressed his shoulders onto the bed, lifting his hips high when his fingers hit the right spot. Unable to cover his mouth, hands still tied at his back, he cried, “Right there, Kacchan! Please, I want you!”

“Please? Want me where?”

“F-Fuck you, Kacchan! I-I want you inside!”

So much for no bad language on Christmas.

Thighs spread open, Katsuki pulled his fingers out and pumped himself, spreading the excess lube over his length. Positioned and ready with an ankle in each hand, Katsuki bent over Izuku and pressed forward. Hard. The instant satisfaction at being consumed by that tight heat of that ass made him almost cum inside Izuku, before a single thrust. Izuku moaned at the sensation of being filled so fast, but those hips fought to move, wiggling, pressing up to meet his pelvis even more, despite already being balls deep.

Pulling out, cruelly slow, Katsuki whispered, “My gift still passable, you shitty Dekuuu~?” He didn’t wait. He didn’t let his Izuku answer with words, and gave him what he wanted - pushing back inside.

They chased for what they wanted together. Katsuki admired the sight of the crooked bra at Izuku’s chest; crumpled from the bent position he was in, his legs spread, ankles now crossed around his waist. Hips rose to meet each thrust and words of praise fell from those lips - always praising Katsuki in awe, filled with love that’s always been there in one way, shape or form. The force of his thrusts made Izuku words escaped alongside gasps, “A-Ah, so good! Kacchan is so a-ah, so good! Amazing! Ah-Ahh Kacchan’s cock is amazing!!”

The heat at Katsuki’s face burned at the words and sweat dripped down his face, falling on Izuku’s chest. To his embarrassment at those encouraging compliments, Katsuki nosed one side of the soft bralette higher and bit at a nipple, making the other man’s body tremble harder beneath him.

Still, those words of flattery tickled his chest.

Closing his eyes tight, Katsuki sat back on his heels with one last thrust and emptied his cum inside. Breathlessly, chest heaving from the exertion, Katsuki watched the end of his dick twitch, filling Izuku’s insides to the brim. Little beads of cum oozed from the sides of his Izuku’s stretched out hole.

With Katsuki’s name whispered at his lips, Izuku followed him, come squirting across his stomach. . . Katsuki lay naked on the bed above the covers with arms behind his head and eyes closed, content with the world. The warmth of the room felt good against his damp skin and the sweat was something he didn’t care to wipe off at the moment. Pulling the blanket over his husband’s exposed waist, Izuku sat up slightly to scoot closer and cuddle against the man resting shameless and bare at his side. “Kacchan, you’re ridiculous. Cover yourself a little.”

Opening one eye, Katsuki half-glared down at the man. “I’m hot.”

“You are very hot.”

“Ughhhh, you’re so cheesy. It freakin’ hurts.” Katsuki smirked when Izuku relaxed over at his side and placed a cute peck of a kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas...Izuku.”

After placing another quick kiss to Katsuki’s lips, Izuku pulled away slightly to whisper, “Merry Christmas, Katsuki!” Then kissed him again just as fast before flying off the bed, blanket floating like a cape around his shoulders when he moved to fish something from under the bed.

“The hell?!” The sudden movement got him gasping before sitting up to grab at the blanket, when the nerd’s butt shook from side to side, fighting to reach whatever was hidden under the bed. “Watch it!”

Bouncing back on the bed, Izuku held a snowman decorated gift and held it out like an offering. Head bowed low, he yelled, “Time to open my gift to you! I-I think you’ll love it!”

“Ehh?! Now?!” It’s almost three in the morning, but Katsuki was amused at the over-enthusiasm. Maybe, at the back of his mind, such enthusiasm...about heroes, about anything, when the source of his Izuku’s enthusiasm is himself, Katsuki loves it the most. Keep those eyes on him, Izuku. He grabbed the gift, a little too rough, but those green eyes remained sparkling up at him like stars filled with happiness. Wrapped like a burrito in the blanket now, Izuku wiggled closer when Katsuki pulled the ribbon off.

“I just know you’ll love it!”

Skeptical, Katsuki laughed. “How confident of you. Well fine. Let’s see what geeky thing you got from me at Hero-Con.”

Wrapping paper strewn around them, Katsuki stared in disbelief at the matching, equally limited edition, and copyrighted holiday-themed Pro-Hero Deku lingerie official merch in his hands. The set came along with black thigh highs with the bottom feet-part that looked like Izuku’s red shoes and black heels.

He was speechless.

“Maybe tomorrow…” Holding up the partially see-through crop top and a bralette, Izuku excitedly leaned in close with sparkles in his eyes. “You can show me your moves, Kacchan! It is Christmas after all! You won’t let me down, right?”

To Be Continued?

#bakudeku secret santa 2018 #bakudeku secret santa #bkdk secret santa #bkdk #bakudeku #bkdk getting spicy #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfiction #unoutan writes

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nekoriri · 5 years

Text

This is the English translation of the Chinese Novel Title: 最爱你的那十年 / Zuì ài nǐ dì nà shí nián / The 10 Years Where I Loved you the Most Author: 无仪宁死

This is the English translation of the Chinese Novel Title: 最爱你的那十年 / Zuì ài nǐ dì nà shí nián / The 10 Years Where I Loved you the Most

Author: 无仪宁死

< TN/ >This is going to be the last chapter we will post cause we lack funds doing this and lack man power feel free to adopt the series if you are able to but please do not repost our works without our permission PS RE TRANSLATION IS OK GO JUST CREDIT US W ARE SO FINE WITH IT XD IM ALWAYS ON TWITTER SO IF YOU NEED TO CONTACT ME JUST GO THERE LOL @JulieNightray

this chapter is brought to you by Keiko <3 my goddess friend <3 thanks keikei this is a free translation by my awesome friend. We do not make money out of this translation the copyright for this novel belongs to the writer and we are just translating them for fellow fans if you do have the capability please do support the author and try to translate it if you are able to Thank you!.JUST SO YOU KNOW MY FRIENDS WHO HELPS WITH TRANSLATION ARE NONE BL FAN so in a way I am tainting their innocence /o/ --- The 10 years I loved you the most

Summary:Usually people that yell that they'll leave, they end up being the ones to pick up the broken pieces. When the time comes to truly leave, they only pick the nicest day with beautiful weather, wearing their most frequently worn clothes, open the door and leave, never coming back. To Jiang Wenxu (蒋文旭), He Zhishu (贺知书) is [his] air and water. When he can spend willfully, he doesn't think it's a pity. But if one day he loses it, it'll be too late to regret it. "Where you are, is a thought I can't stop thinking about til the end of earth" ------------------------------------------

Chapter 3 Just like a thorn in the bone, mercilessly drinking the blood and nibbling the flesh, when a heart really hurts, that kind of pain can really kill people. He Zhishu can endure a lot, but every time his heart hurts, he can’t help but hurt himself more.

He Zhishu carried the plant upstairs, his forehead covered in cold sweats. He leaned on the wall to catch his breath, feeling dizzy with a headache. He Zhishu’s medicine was poured into different styles of glass-made bottle charms. At a simple glance, no one would imagine such a terrible illness. He liked such exquisite bottles since his school days, collecting a lot of them over the years. Now, all these bottles were used to contain his medicine. He was too lazy to boil water, so he just drank the medicine with cold water. Once he laid in bed, he could hear his stomach churning like waves in a storm. He Zhushu rolled to the side and curled up into a circle, his chin almost touching his knees.

This has been the longest time since Jiang Wenxu didn’t care to come home. 19 days. It’s only been 19 days, and He Zhishu has no idea how he has managed to survive this long. He thought back to the day he had his bone marrow aspiration, waiting by himself for the lab report, listening to other patients’ uncontrollable sobbing sounds. He sat there calmly in silence and thought to himself, “After all this, can I still stand? I still want to go home, but I’m afraid I can’t do so.” He Zhishu’s headache really can’t be helped. His hand curled up, like how a drowning person desperately grabbing at an out of reach driftwood would. He got out of bed frowning, opened the desk drawer in the small bedroom with a key, and carefully took out a book from inside.

The book was Jian Zhen’s Prose, which looked a few years old. He Zhishu hugged the book and tucked himself into the sofa, lightly flipping open the first page, the tiredness in his eyes slowly fading away, replaced with a gentle smiling expression.

The white pages from back then have now turned yellow, but the cool and arrogant penmanship can withstand time. Jiang Wenxu’s penmanship was beautiful, and meticulously transcripted Jian Zhen’s words— "Where you are, is a thought I can't stop thinking about til the end of earth" 14 years ago, a boy with an air of arrogance stopped He Zhishu. The boy’s face reddened, stuffed a book in his hands and coolly said, “Heard from others that you liked Jian Zhen, so I bought you her book. Hope you like the book and conveniently… Like me too!”

Biting his lips tightly, He Zhishu hugged the book. He weakly sat on the sofa, his eyes misted up, holding a sense of heaviness. There were no tears, the heart is already broken. Jiang Wenxu came home in the evening, the sound of the key turning at the door was clear.

That moment, He Zhishu was immediately awake, and slowly sat up. No lights were turned on in the house. Jiang Wenxu thought that He Zhishu was asleep in his bedroom at first, so he didn’t think that once he turned on the light, He Zhushu would be staring at him, with a face white as ghost at that. Jiang Wenxu jumped in shock, “Not turning on the light so late in the evening and scaring people here?!” he offhandedly reprimanded.

Jiang Wenxu looked at He Zhishu and couldn’t help but feel agitated on the inside, along with a strange and complicated feeling which he couldn’t make sense of. These days, he’s been getting along with a boy from the Fine Arts Academy. It wasn’t until he got a call from He Zhishu last night that he somehow felt guilty, always remembering the sad times. Thinking about it, he realized he hasn’t come home in a long while.

“I fell asleep and just woke up, so I couldn’t turn on the lights in time. You’re not busy at work?” He Zhishu asked without a hint of annoyance, and set the book on the coffee table. Jiang Wenxu, without looking at the book, threw his coat on the sofa, and loosened his tie. Lying with a straight face, he said, “Even if I’m busy I still need time to come home.” “Did you get thinner?” Jiang Wenxu stared at He Zhishu, his brows furrowed. “How old are you already, yet still unable to take care of yourself. Do you not mind looking into the mirror and losing your appetite?”

He Zhishu’s heart felt like it was stabbed hard, delicate and in pain. In fact, to Jiang Wenxu, his wan and emaciated look was not worth mentioning, right? However, losing appetite is true. How can this appearance compete with the prosperous wildflowers outside?

He Zhishu laughed, how could he not want to take care of himself. But life never gave him a choice. Now, Jiang Wenxu only had that one thing to say. What, did He Zhishu have to apologise for his paleness? A stall owner sees him and already heartbreakingly asks, “Child, did you get thin from working too hard?” A doctor that has seen life and death also encouraged him not to give up life. Yet, this man that has been with him for over a decade did not give a care.

He Zhishu knew what kind of person Jiang Wenxu was. He would not spend his attentiveness and tenderness on things that do not interest him. That’s why, the thoughtfulness that once came from him, through time, has now eroded into disdain. And He Zhishu can do nothing about it. ---------------------------------------------------------------- <TN/>Keiko : just wanted to say (don't need to add this in), the author whoever it is, he's not really a good writer, his descriptive writing really bothers me, there were so many instances where he didn't need to add in a description but did (such as how the hands curled up like a guy drowning and not able to get the log???)it's like he was trying to make it to a word count in a school assignment 😑 lollll

Me: hahahahahaha i know the feels XD

Anyways this is the end for our journey with this series if you want to continue this feel free just don't re post our translations I am more than willing to help with funding new translators for this I am just one DM away.

#最爱你的那十年 #the10yearswhereilovedyouthemost #zuì ài nǐ dì nà shí nián #chinesetoenglishtranslation #chinesenovel #无仪宁

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dazaaaai · 6 years

Note

(person from ur tumblr): CAN I JUST SAY THIS BLOG IS AWESOME :D I cant believe I found another person who likes bsd! btw Im Kunikida's wife, nice to meet you. Tell ur hus that Kunikida wants an explanation regarding the sudden disappearance of his nb XDD Aaanyways, to get to the point, I was hoping maaaybe for a prompt like: Kunikida sick w/ cold and a sweet Dazai takes care of him...?

HI THERE!! Sorry this is so late omg it’s been almost half a year but BLESS!!! It’s always good to have more people who like the Bungalow Wild Pups :D hello Mrs. Kunikida it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, I’ll be sure to tell Dazai to attend to the case of Kunikida’s missing notebook XD And yes !! You may of course, have your request! I think it’s not as fluffy and one-on-one as you wanted, but I had a lot of fun writing, so thank you for requesting and I do hope you enjoy it as much as I did typing it up!!

This Can’t End Well

⋆pairing: none that are mentioned!⋆ characters: Doppo Kunikida, Osamu Dazai, Akiko Yosano (main); Atsushi Nakajima, Junichirou Tanizaki, Kenji Miyazawa, Edogawa Ranpo, OC (secondary); Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kirako Haruno and the clerks (mentioned)⋆genre: mostly comedy, fluff near the end⋆ rating: K+⋆warnings: mentions of vomiting and other sickness symptoms⋆words: 2051→ summary: Kunikida’s definitely sick, and neither the Agency nor he himself are entirely certain what to do. Dazai, however, has a plan…

This couldn’t end well.

He didn’t want to admit it. It was shameful, and he had work to do! He couldn’t just slack off, couldn’t just stay at home… He had a schedule to keep to, an ideal — there was no way he could allow himself to be lazy, no way he could allow himself to act like…

Dazai pinches his cheek, “Kunikida-kuuuun. You look awfully red.”

Kunikida growls, “Well. Maybe if someone weren’t standing here trying to annoy me to death, my complexion would be a lot paler.”

“I don’t think it’s just that,” Dazai hums, moving his hand from his cheek to his forehead, Kunikida doing everything in his power to keep typing and not snap Dazai’s wrist. “Kunikida-kun, I think you have a fever!”

��Absolutely not,” Kunikida quickly swats his hand away before returning to his ever-important document. Click-clack, click-clack…

“I think maybe Yosano-sensei should take a look at you.”

“Absolutely not.”

And then, to Kunikida’s horror, his body completely betrays him. His nose seizes, his lip quivers, his face scrunches up…

He does an awful, awful thing.

He sneezes.

“Bless you, Kunikida-san!” Comes Atsushi’s voice from across the desk, from where the tiger boy is sitting, on the other chair.

Kunikida swiftly wipes his nose with a hanky, returning to his typing.

“You know,” Dazai says, leaning against his chair. “Our little photographer says that where she’s from, a single sneeze means bad luck, or very simply, ‘be patient.’ Maybe your work can wait?”

“Nonsense! I do not procrastinate,” But his voice sounds stuffy — stuffier than usual, Kunikida’s sure Dazai would remark — and his eyes feel weary. His throat is scratchy, too…

“Uh-oh,” Dazai coos. “I think somebody’s definitely sick.”

“No.”

“You really don’t look so well, Kunikida-kun.”

“I’m fine, Dazai!”

“You’re sick,” Dazai’s teasingly insistent, turning to his subordinate, “Atsushi-kun! Doesn’t Kunikida-kun seem sick to you?”

Atsushi glances nervously between his two superiors — one wears an easy-going smile and the other’s glaring daggers at Atsushi, as if daring him to speak up.

“W-well,” he begins. “Kunikida-san’s a logical man… Why would he come to work if he wasn’t feeling well?”

“I don’t know,” Dazai hums. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Atsushi takes one look at Kunikida, yelps, and buries his face back in his paperwork.

“I am not sick, Dazai,” Kunikida says, with a sense of finality — he refuses to accept any prolonging of this discussion. He has work to do.

But then…

Coughs.

It’s a small, tickle of sorts, within the back of his throat, at first. Then the tickle turns into scraping in his lungs, and soon enough Kunikida’s hacking up spit and bile into the palm of his hand, desperately trying to keep the contents of his stomach inside his body where they belong.

“Kunikida-san?” It’s Junichirou this time, he’s walking by with a stack of folders and binders. The boy’s bright red eyes gaze at Kunikida with concern, “Are you alright? You don’t look too good.”

“Tanizaki-san, I assure you, I’m in perfect health—” Kunikida says, but ends up being unable to continue as another coughing fit wracks his chest.

Junichirou frowns, “You should go lie down in Yosano-sensei’s infirmary, if only for a bit. It’d help a lot — I can take over what you need to do for today from here, if you need me to.”

Kunikida dismisses him with a wave of his shaky hand, “No, I insist. I have it under control.”

He returns to his typing, only to realize upon hitting a certain point in his document, that he needs to refer and source something from a case they’d solved last year — the files to do with that are not on the hard drive belonging to the computer he’s currently working with. In fact, they haven’t been digitized yet, so they’re on a shelf against the walls of the office, a little ways away from where Kunikida’s working.

All he has to do is get up and get the binder. Simple, right?

Not right. He gets up and is immediately hit by a wave of dizziness so intense that both Atsushi and Junichirou shout at once, “Kunikida-san!”

They rush to his side just as his head’s about to hit the ground and catch him, the two younger, weaker boys barely holding the man upwards, dragging him back to his seat, which he collapses in gratefully, and while breathing heavily.

“You definitely need a break,” Junichirou puts a hand to Kunikida’s forehead, tutting when he feels the high temperature of his skin.

“No no,” Kunikida insists, but when he sits up he again finds himself dizzy, collapsing back once more in his seat.

“Everybody needs to rest sometime,” Atsushi says, voice soft.

“I can rest at night, when I’m asleep…”

“Kunikida-san,” Junichirou continues. “We’re going to take you to Yosano-sensei and see what she thinks, okay?”

Kunikida’s face manages to pale, at least, in comparison to how red it is from his fever. “Oh no.”

Dazai cackles maniacally, “How exciting! Gotta get treated by the scary scary doctor when you have the suds, Kunikida-kuuun…!”

“Is he alright?” Kenji asks, poking his head out from behind Atsushi and Junichirou, who’ve been waiting outside of Yosano’s office for about half an hour.

He was asking this question to Yosano, of course, who’d finally unlocked the door and stepped outside, seeming bemused in expression but smiling gently at Kenji, then laughing.

“Oh he’s fine,” she replies at last. “He’s just sick.”

“I knew it!” Dazai yells cheerily from across the floor.

“So he really is sick?” Junichirou bites his lip, “Can you heal him?”

Yosano shakes her head, “No. My ability only works on injuries, and is mostly intended for the life-threatening kind… It can do nothing for psychological damage, medical problems you were born with, nor, in this particular case… The common cold.”

“He caught a cold?” Atsushi’s almost in awe. “That seems so strange. He’s always seemed so healthy and hard-working.”

“Finally took its toll,” Yosano sighs. “It’s a sign that he needs to rest.”

She then narrows her eyes, looking all around at the Agency members.

“Whatever you do,” she begins, tone deadly serious and commanding. “Do not let that man leave his bed. I don’t care if he begs or pleads or cries, he will not work today.”

“B-but,” Atsushi tries to argue. “Yosano-sensei! You know Kunikida-san is so very, u-um—!”

“Doctor’s orders,” is Yosano’s firm reply, as she exits the Agency with her heels pattering against the marble. “Now, I’m off to get cough syrup for the patient. Do what you will to make him feel comfortable, if you feel like it — though I’m sure he’d rather you all be working in his absence.”

The door shuts, and a silence falls upon the members of the Agency.

“What…” Atsushi trails off. “Now?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Atsushi-kun?” Dazai laughs, coming to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “We take care of Kunikida-kun until Yosano-sensei returns from the pharmacy.”

“How do we take care of him though?” Junichirou looks at Dazai, curious. “We’re not doctors.”

“Oh, pish-tosh! It’s just a cold, right? Everybody has home remedies for a cold! Why not throw some suggestions my way, and I’ll see what I can do for my beloved coworker!”

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi’s surprised. “I didn’t know you cared about Kunikida-san so much.”

Dazai puts a hand to his chest, as if he’s completely and totally offended. “Why! Atsushi-kun. I’m struck at the very idea that you thought I don’t care about him. Nothing could be further from the truth! He takes such good care of the Agency, why don’t we return the favor for a change?”

There are slow, then enthusiastic nods amongst the younger Agency members, but Ranpo simply cackles from where he sits, sucking on a lollipop.

“Oh yeah,” he shakes his head, eyes ever closed in amusement. “This can’t end well.”

“Now now,” Dazai claps his hands together. “Ranpo-san, don’t be so pessimistic! So, which of you lovelies has an idea for what we could do?”

“Well,” Kenji taps his chin. “Honey will do the trick, if he has a sore throat.”

The brown-eyed girl sitting next to Kenji sticks out her tongue, “Honey. Yucky! I hate that stuff. I have a better idea,” she gets up off her seat, and skips off to the front door, “I’m going to go down to the café, ask Lucy if she has any maple syrup. Same effect, tastes much better!”

Before anyone can stop her, the door is opened and shut once more.

“Maybe something hot and warm to eat,” Atsushi turns around. “Like soup.”

“Atsushi-kun, can you cook?”

“M-more or less, but—”

“Wonderful! Accompany the little princess down to the cafe and ask if you can use their kitchen and ingredients — be sure to tell them to put charges on your tab, alright?”

“B-but!”

“You’re the one who suggested it, not me. Now go, go go go!”

Atsushi sighs, getting up and doing so.

“What should we do?” Junichirou and Kenji ask in unison.

“Hmmm,” Dazai tips his head, thinking. “You two should take care of Kunikida’s work while he’s away from his keyboard. I’m sure he’d appreciate that tons!”

Junichirou furrows his eyebrows, “His work is really complicated, at least to me. I’m just an errand boy, Dazai-san…”

Kenji nods in nervous agreement, “Yeah. And I still don’t know what a computer is, let alone how to use one!”

Dazai laughs, like it’s not a problem at all. “You’re two capable boys! I’m sure you can figure out.”

They exchange glances, then get up, bowing lightly, saying, “We’ll do our best!”

Dazai waves them off happily, then turns to the infirmary’s door with what can only be described as a grin akin to that of the Cheshire Cat.

So begins his fun…

“Y-Yosano-sensei!” Kunikida splutters as the woman enters her office once more, having returned with the cough medicine she’d promised.

“Hmm?” Yosano raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow in confusion. “Kunikida-kun, you’re acting so scared as if I might treat you with my ability.”

“This is worse,” he whispers. “So much worse.”

“What happened?” Yosano rolls down one of her gloves to check her watch, “I couldn’t have been gone more than forty minutes.”

“Dazai happened.”

And Kunikida, with a dying voice, though Yosano insists for him to rest his throat, regales her on all the awful things that have occurred in those devastating forty minutes that Yosano was absent.

First, Atsushi and his little friend come back up into the Agency, one with a pot of hot soup, and the other with a big urn (that’s the only word that comes to Kunikida’s mind, as it was just so large) of maple syrup, both insisting that he eat it all.

He, er, had expelled most of it, to his utter humiliation and to Yosano’s complete unsurprise.

And then, it got worse… Dazai came in and tried to cheer him up, as it were, by driving him “COMPLETELY UP THE WALL” and constantly poking and prodding him, pretending to give him a soothing massage when really he was nearly breaking Kunikida’s foot to go along with his disease.

Then, to top it all off, Junichirou comes in, maybe five or ten minutes before Yosano’s return, only to tell him that he finished all of Kunikida’s work… When Kunikida asked Junichirou to show him, Kenji waddled in with the laptop, and after seeing the state it was in, Kunikida could do nothing but scream.

Kunikida’s end up sent home for the week — and the detectives are given a thorough scolding from the President. Ranpo laughs about it nonstop, every day up until Kunikida returns…

And once he does, nobody goes near him, not even Dazai.

They know if they do…

It won’t end well.

But, when Kunikida arrives, all better now though even angrier than usual, to sit at his desk…

He finds a little card perched on his laptop.

He takes the small, thick paper, and unfolds it to reveal the words, surely in one of the members’ neat calligraphy…

We’re sorry!! Get well soon, Kunikida-san!

And it’s signed by every one of the detectives and clerks, even Dazai and Ranpo.

So maybe it did end well, after all.

#bungou stray dogs #kunikida doppo #doppo kunikida #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #yosano akiko #akiko yosano #armed detective agency #bsd #bungo stray dogs #fanfic #anonymous #ask

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furgemancs · 6 years

Text

Ghosts of Christmas

Okay, so I made a small story, which is rare from me XD This is about Buster’s Christmas, some fluff with a hint of sad, enjoy it ^^ Story is under cut, Chris belongs to @the-vampire-inside-me, based on some brainstorming, everyone else is mine.

First thing he heard was the faint, yet familiar voices. Singing a song he didn’t recognize. Then footsteps and excited chatter. The noises made the toon groan, bury his face into the pillow, using his pristine white wings as a shield and tried to sleep a bit more. But neither his ‘barrier’ was enough to avoid the scent, sneaking through the door and twisting his senses. It was so delicious, it already made Alabaster gulp.

With a frown the angel sat up, stretched out his limbs and yawned, wings brushing the walls. Hand scratched on his white tank top. It was already morning, the sun shimmered on the white blanket of snow that covered up the whole city. The sight still made him awe, since this was the first winter of his life. Al stared at the street below, watching people walking by, wondering, then finally decided to find out, why everyone is so noisy. He only put on his pants and slowly left his room.

The sight hit him by surprise. Everyone was already awake and marching around in the apartment, having a rather cheerful behavior. The twins ran around, putting strange, fuzzy ‘scarfs’ all over the furnitures, while singing songs he didn’t know. Natalia was cooking in the kitchen something super delicious, humming along with the kids. Larry tried to position a pine tree in the middle of the saloon. They all were acting weird.

“Ahm… what’s… going on?” Al spoke up, staring at the others with a furrowed brow. The twins stopped in front of him, bouncing on their toes in excitement.

“It’s Christmas, Al!” they stated in unison, which just made the angel more confused.

“Krishdmash? What is it?” asked, his expression just as innocent as the fresh snow. Bing and Bong changed a look with each other, gasping.

“You don’t know what Christmas is?” of course they overdramatized things a bit, as usual when the angel questioned something ‘obvious’. Therefor the toon lowered his head, glancing away embarrassed for being ‘dumb’.

“Boys, don’t forget this will be Al’s first holiday.” Natalia told them as she took off her apron and untied her long hair. She approached the angel and looked upon him, smiling. “Christmas is a holiday about love and family. People gather together to celebrate, have fun, eat delicious food-”

“And give presents!” noted in Bing.

“Yeah, don’t forget the presents. And Santa!” added his twin brother, both giggling. Natalia sighed, rubbing her temples.

“Yeah, those too… Don’t worry, Al, we will show you everything. I think Larry is done with the tree. Come, let’s decorate it.” she took Alabaster’s hand and they went to check on the pine “Oh Larry, this is beautiful. Great choice as always.” she said, making the polar bear blush and puff out his chest in pride.

“Why we install a dead tree in the saloon? And why we have to decorate it?” Al had so many questions in his mind, and with each action the others did, it just increased.

“It’s a tradition.” told him Larry, as he opened a box, which was full with colorful and shiny ornaments. The twins were already on it and began to put these shimmery balls onto the branches.

“We not really know the reason either, but everyone is doing it.” Natalia said, picking up an ornament and handed to Al “I like this tradition, to be honest. Its pretty, and the tree has a nice scent.” added with a giggle. Al watched the glass orb in awe, then did as the others and placed it onto a small branch. He wasn’t sure why, but this tiny activity cheered him up. Soon all the decorations were hanging on the tree, expect one.

“Who wants the top?” asked Larry, holding a small, angelic figurine in his hand. Like two tiny predator the twins jumped, trying to scream down each other.

“Me! Mee!!”

“You did it last year, Bing! It’s my turn!”

“No it’s not!”

“Boys! Please don’t argue today. It’s Bong’s turn by the way!” Natalia interrupted before the kids began some quarrel again. Bong squealed in joy and climbed onto Larry’s shoulders, placing the figure to the top of the tree.

“Wow... ” moaned Al in awe “This is beautiful indeed.” his eyes shimmered with innocent joy, the nearby orbs reflected the soft shine of his halo.

“And this is just the tree. There are still lots of fun for today.” Natalia looked at him and a soft smile appeared on her face. She couldn’t help, but each time they taught something new for the angel, his curiosity and joy stuck to her too. She took a deep breath and started singing a phrase “Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree, you stand in splendid beauty-”

Natalia was right. This was just the beginning. Since it was nearly noon, they decided to eat. The table was full with various garnishes, sauces and a big, roasted meat in the middle. And the savors… Al felt in heaven, this was more delicious than he thought. It was pretty rare they made food for themselves, but since they had time, they could manage it.

They played games. A lot of them. They didn’t have to worry about any kind of performance for the day, therefore they could do whatever they wanted. The group even went downstairs to make a small show for themselves. Al jumped to the piano and out of instincts began to play a Christmas song for the first time, yet perfect as ever.

“On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me…” sang in a group, then the phrases divided.

“Four calling bird-" said Al.

“Three french hens-" continued Larry.

“Two turtledove-" chant the twins in unison.

“And a partridge in a pear tree" finished Natalia and they continued this until the end.

Time went by so fast, they didn't realize it was already late evening. They rested on the couch, watched the soft lights on the tree, enjoying the silence. The twins were already passed out, using Larry as a pillow. Natalia and Alabaster sat next to each other, heads resting on each other, enjoying the warm and silence.

“This… was wonderful...” whispered the angel, nuzzling her soft hair “I had so much fun...”

“Glad to hear you enjoyed it...” she murmured back “And it’s just… a small fragment. Theres… a lot more of this holiday… wish I can show you...“ she let out a sad sigh in the end. Al glanced at her, then wrapped a wing around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

“This is perfect. I don’t want anything else...” the angel stated, while his fingers lightly entwined with hers. Soft shade of pink colored Natalia’s cheek as she slowly returned the gesture, nuzzling Al’s shoulder more. Faint, gentle hum came from her throat, making the male sleepy. He took a heavy inhale and closed his eyes, letting the melody drift him into slumberland.

The next moment he opened his eyes he was somewhere else, someone gently shaking his shoulder. The angel jolted and let out a scared yelp, swinging out with his wings.

“Buster, Buster, its okay! It’s just me! Shhh!” the other leaned away to not receive a slap from the feathers. The toon sat up, hand reached out and rubbed the nub on his right side out of reflex. He was in a car, wearing warm jacket. Next to him a tall human knelt on the seat, watching him with worry. They parked outside of a studio, snow was falling from the ebony sky.

“C-Chris?” croaked Buster, lightly shaking in the whole body. He needed to take a deep breath to calm himself “W-what happened?”

“You fallen asleep. Just arrived and tried to wake you up. Did you… have a dream with them? Your family?” Chris asked, trying to be delicate with the theme. Buster hesitated, staring at the floor, then slowly nodded.

“...I miss them, Chris… more than ever...” he stammered, something warm streamed down his cheek. The human reached out and smeared away his tears. Buster’s lips trembled and out of reflex nuzzled the palm “I wish they could be here...”

“I know, buddy… I know… come here...” Chris got a bit closer and hold his toon friend in a warm, welcoming embrace. Buster hiccupped, for a second he wanted to push away, but he became weak, he broke up in a faint weep and hugged him back tight. The man waited patiently, hand rubbing the toon’s back in circles to calm him.

“Its okay… everything is okay. I know its hard… but as long as you remember them, they are not dead.” Chris whispered gently, yet inside he was pained to see his friend suffer. It took Buster a few minutes to calm down, resting on the other weakly.

“I-I’m sorry…” rattled in the end, burying his face into the jacket.

“Don’t be. It’s natural we miss the ones we love. You know, if you need help, or just want to talk about this to someone, I’m here.” Chris softly smiled, caressing Buster’s cheek. The toon closed his eye, enjoying the gesture, nodding again.

“Thank you...”

“Heh, anytime, buddy.” The man’s smile widened, then leaned close and hinted a smooch onto the black forehead “How do you feel, would you like to go in? Honestly it’s getting cold out here.” he added with a chuckle and shuddered. Buster blinked, then snorted a giggle as well.

“S-sure. We are here to have some fun, right? Your ‘famous’ Christmas party in the studio.” finally there was a hint of tease in his voice, which cheered Chris up. The human got out of the car and helped his friend too.

Buster glanced upon the sky, watching the falling snowflakes in wonder, his breath like tiny clouds. Such a pretty sight. He inhaled the cold air, then exhaled and followed his guardian inside the warmth, to celebrate Christmas for the first time in many years.

The end.

#batim #batim oc #buster the angel #story

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inkyheartsaskblog · 6 years

Photo

Buster’s surprise visitor

Buster the angel belongs to @furgemancs

Tico belongs to me

One cold night in Toon Town Buster the Angel had just returned from a long night of scavenging for food to his abandoned theatre.He heads over to the stage carefully not to trip on the debris of the theatre and lays the bag of food he had gathered on a table.As Buster sorted out his bag he stops when he hears creaking of wood and what seemed like the sound of flapping nearby,but then shrugs it off thinking it was just some pigeons and went back to look at his findings.Then out of nowhere a light British cockney accent voice spoke to him from behind.

????: “Excuse me but can yew help?”

Buster stopped then quickly turned around to see who said that,but then screams in fright when he turns face to face to a small strange furry toon whom was hanging upside down, entangled in some ripped curtains only his bat like wings and tail were free to move around.The Toon small toon smiled as he flaps his bat wings to swing around so he could speak to the scared angel.

????: “Hi there!” Could yew mind ‘elpin’ me aaaht please?” he says in a friendly tone but then winces when he hears the angel scream again.Buster was so scared he jumped back and hid behind the piano nearby.The small toon looked at him confused, what did he do wrong? he asked himself as he swings his body to get a better view.

????: “Hey are yew aright?” he say’s curiously and worryingly.

Buster was shaking as he peers from behind the piano and asks in a nervous tone.

????: “Oh dear i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to fright’n yew please forgive me”

Buster: “W-who a-are you? W-why are y-you here? What do you want?”

The toon blinked then smiled “Oh my name is Tico,Tico da Bandizingo, pleased to meet yew” he said while trying to stop himself from swinging in another direction with his tail.

Tico: “ As to why i'm here.....well i sometimes get moments to when my cat instincts kick in, i'm part of different animals yew see, i'm a toon that supposed to be a type of hybrid and ....well..... animal instincts can be stronger then the mind” he says sheepishly.

Buster looks at him confused “ Okaay.....Then why are you here?” he says giving him a glare.

Tico: “Well i was just passing through when i spotted a small mouse scurrying about outside this building and as soon as i saw it my instincts kicked in.....so i went after it heehee”

Tico: “I chased it inside and got in by using the small hole in the side of the building,then i climbed up to the rafters to see where the mouse had gone......but the flooring wasn’t safe and i fell through ceiling,.....i got myself tangled up in the curtains as i fell while trying to fly,but i forget i can’t fly...so yeah dat’s what happened” he smiles innocently.

Buster didn’t know what to do, even though he was afraid of toons he couldn’t just leave him hanging there, the toon could have friends that might be worried about him and could come searching for him,so with a sigh Buster got up and walked over to the entangled Tico and tries to get him free.

But as he stood in front of the small toon he starts to get nervous his only hand beings to shaking as he slowly moves it to grab on the fabric.Buster was then snapped back to his senses when Tico says with a smile.

Tico: “It’s okay take your time i’ve been here all day so i’m in no hurry”

Buster: “Wait What? you’ve been here all day?” Buster says in a surprised tone as his two angel hand wings grab on the top of the curtain tearing it loose so Tico wasn’t hanging in midair.

Tico: “Yep i tried calling for ‘elp’ but no one heard me so i tried to get loose...but i think i got even more stuck so i fell asleep”

Buster carried Tico to the nearby table and turned on an oil lamp on to get a better look at the mess the Toon was in.True enough the small toon looked even more tangled up then Buster previously thought, it seemed like the fabric had tightly wrapped around Tico’s body rather then rip or tear when he tried to get free.

Buster laid Tico on the table as he grabs a pair of scissors, he the gentle cuts the fabric to get the Bandizingo free (what a weird name) he thought to himself as he manged to cut a piece off the curtain that was entangled on one of Tico’s legs.

Tico looks at the angel with curiosity as he felt himself getting free from the ripped curtain, he wonders why did this angel lived all by himself all alone surely he must have friends or...maybe he didn’t have any friends Tico thought to himself if there’s one thing that Tico hates seeing it’s seeing people lonely and sad without a friend in the world.

A few moments later and Buster had finally manged to get Tico free from his bondage now that the toon was free Buster had a better look at him.As Tico stretched his stiff body Buster had to admit whomever the creator of this toon was she/he must’ve had a strange imagination.

Buster: “Ok you’re free, now go home” he says in serious tone not really wanting the toon around him just in case.

Tico scratched himself because of an itch but then stopped “yeah it is getting late my bruvah will be wondering where i am, Thank yew mister?..mister?”

Buster: “Buster, now go away” he says blankly

Tico: “oh well thank you Mister Buster i really appreciate it but i don’t think i wanna leave yew alone in this place it’s dangerous,say why don’t yew come and stay with me and my bro i’m sure he woul....”

Buster: “no I want to be left alone now please leave”

Tico: “but”

Buster:”NO! I SAID GO HOME! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” he says angrily not wanting the toon around any longer, all Buster wants is to left alone that’s it, he made himself look scarier by using his wings.

Tico blinked looking at him confused then out of nowhere Tico then copied Buster’s pose and made a cute sounding growl that to him was supposed be scary,Buster stops and wonders what was he doing.

Tico: “grrrrrr i can be scary too see grrrrrr”

Buster looks at him with confusion most toons would start running scared, but this one? nope he was hard to get rid of.

Buster sighs the calmly says “look...i’m sure you’re nice but i’m just not ready to be around anyone just now so please leave me alone, okay?”

Tico stares at him then smiles a sweet kind smile “it’s okay i’ll be patient and when you’re ready i’ll be happy to be your friend” he pats Buster’s hand with his small hand then laughs as he jumps down from the table and then hops towards the hole that he came in, he then stops to turn to Buster.

Tico: “I hope i can meet yew again, yew seem like an interesting guy maybe we can be friends,well see ya!” then with that Tico was gone leaving a very confused toon Angel to wonder what just happened.

The next day Buster wakes up to the sound of knocking from the main door walks to the door to see who it was but saw no one he was about to go back inside when his eye laid upon a small box filled with sandwiches.Buster picked up the box and finds a note attached to the lid he read the note.

Dear mister Buster

“I noticed that yew might be hungry so i made some sandwiches for your breakfast, hope yew like jam and honey, take them as a sign of friendship hope yew have a wonderful day”

your friend Tico

Buster looked at the note then at the sandwiches they did look tasty Buster made a small smile (maybe being friends with that toon might not be a bad idea) he shrugs then walks inside to eat the sandwiches.

The end

Well here’s a fic about my character Tico meeting Buster the Angel hope you enjoy it.

PS this was my first fic so sorry for the typing mistakes i’m more into drawing then typing stories unless it’s roleplay XD.

#buster the angel #Tico the Bandizingo #bendy and the ink machine #batim oc #batim au #fancanon #fanart #my artwork #my oc #inkyheartsaskblog #furgemancs

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