#I’ve had this in my finished folder for a while now I procrastinated for TOO long now! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shrekgogurt · 8 months ago

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An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on you WIP(s)

Thanks for the tags @theearlgreymage and @wellbelesbian !!!!

🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

For the sake of this endeavor I’m gonna focus on I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man which is also more affectionately referred to as IKABIKAM, eyecab eyecam, 👁️🚕👁️📸, etc.

🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Natasha as like a vaguely Margaret Thatcher figure but she was in office in the late 90s not the 80s don’t think about it too hard okay the exact policy/praxis doesn’t matter so much as the ideology/vibes/dynamic + Davy (The Mage) as like a fucked up Welsh caricature (of his own design) because he’s overcompensating and has the media literacy of the worst film bro you’ve ever had the misfortune of talking to = their sons falling in love through football/soccer against all odds as juxtaposed between childhood and adulthood.

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

Trauma

🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

Solsbury Hill for obvious reasons

⚠️Which wip you’re most likely to finish or update next?

This one :-)

💾What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Okay, I’m usually absolute ass at naming files in any helpful fashion but this project is so organized on Google Docs. My notes app is a different story. Those don’t even have titles. I just launch into my whims as they come.

Most interesting answer I can give is that the folder containing all my fic documents is titled “kill the part that cringes.”

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

Listen, I warned y’all.

To be in love with Simon Snow—a life sentence, an encyclopedia of grief.

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

In the original musings of IKABIKAM—titled Scarborough Fair as the club was gonna be in Scarborough—Simon was Irish rather than Welsh and raised by Ruth. I know. Wild to think about now. But it’s true. And then I did some excavating on canon and the story we have today was born. Lost to time (the original idea of this fic which was actually two fics) is a whole very fun scene. I had planned that after the international break match against other, Simon convinced Baz to go out on the town with him. I wrote this snippet back then. It didn’t make the cut for obvious reasons and honestly I don’t know how much I stand by the characterization. Or the prose. Everything about IKABIKAM is better to me but this sexy little number deserves the people’s attention. I’m slightly concerned it’s offensive.

They’re playing INDUSTRY BABY in this club right now? I’m not dancing with Simon Snow to a Lil Nas X song. That music video…I’m only a man. I’m also not exactly sober. I will not risk a Snow relapse. Besides, Snow himself just downed the rest of his drink.

He leans toward me to say something. With the combination of his drunkenness and his accent I can barely make out his words, “eye gahta gohbakta da barrr.” (Translation: I’ve got to go back to the bar.) He really doesn’t.

I pluck the glass from his hand, “this last one is on me.”

He goofily smiles. His head is drooping to the side and his eyes are half-lidded. It would be adorable if I wasn’t worried about him falling over. I scan the room. One of the other Irish players is nearby. I hook Snow’s arm in mine (both my hands are full!) and drag him towards his teammate. He stumbles behind me looking completely blissed out.

I tap the other player on his shoulder. Clancy I think? The left winger. “Hey, I’m going to force Snow home so he can avoid a stomach pump. Could you make sure he doesn’t wander off while I close out my tab?”

He nods. I throw Snow at him and maneuver through the crowd up to the bar. It’s packed. I finish my own drink before I can push an opening to order. The bartender nods at me. She looks worn out from the night. I don’t blame her.

“Soda water with lime please.”

“Sure. What’s the name on the tab?”

“Grimm-Pitch. Could you close it?”

She nods and turns on her heel. A minute or so later she returns with the drink and my card. I take them.

“Is there any chance I could close out my mate’s tab too. He’s pissed.” I gesture back at the direction of Snow and Clancy. A circle of women have surrounded them. Honestly, fair.

The bartender gives me a wary eye. “What’s the name?”

“Snow.”

“Snow? Like the footballer Simon Snow over there?” She points at Simon.

I nod. The bartender scoffs, “Sure I’ll give Simon Snow’s card to some random Englishman.”

Random Englishman? Am I really going to have to do you know who I am this woman? I go for a subtle approach and just sort of lift an eyebrow and draw attention to the name on my own card: Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. The realization hits her. I was afraid I would have to tie my hair up.

“Oh shit. Fuck you’re Baz Pitch.” She stares at me. I hold out my hand. “Right, the card!” She hands me Snow’s card.

I nod, “Alright. Thanks.”

She shakes her head at me, “No, sorry for the hassle. Have a good night English…defensive midfielder…Baz Pitch.” She says my name with a laugh like she’s awestruck I’m in this Dublin nightclub (fair), “and thanks for the win today!”

I’m beyond tired of hearing that line.

When I return Snow is having the time of his life: posted up surrounded by ladies singing along to Ayyy Ladies. They’re not being subtle in their flirting. (Again, fair. Good for them.) Snow is incredibly respectful despite being off his face. Good lad. He’s still far too drunk to consent to anything so I don’t feel terribly guilty for pulling him away from the grind fest.

When he sees me approach he lights up, “Baz!” His arms fly open. “Took you long enough.”

I hand him his drink. There is a blonde woman dancing on him. She throws her arms around his neck. He knocks back the drink and chugs it in one go. A little water dribbles down his chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. It catches on his bottom lip. He hasn’t looked away from me once. And this fucking song…

“When I hit it from the back, don't fuss, don't fight

When I put it in ya mouth, don't scratch, don't bite”

I need to get the fuck out of here.

He hands me back the glass, “That drink was awful. What was it?” His speech is a little less slurred than before.

“Water. I’m taking you home.”

He blushes, “What?”

“You’re plastered. So, you should get sick in your own loo rather than on this lovely woman,” I give the blonde a wink. She dances away.

I’m pretty sure tabs aren’t even really that much of a thing in Ireland. And like…I don’t think you can close them out for someone else. So like. I don’t know what the fuck I was on while writing that. Obviously not Google.com, or reality. But most of all I was absolutely jump-scared reading that back and discovering I was gonna make Baz a defensive midfielder? WTF!?

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

A hockey one-shot. Whenever it happens the chirps are gonna be out of this world.

🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

One in a way that’s meaningful. Maybe two. It’s a fresh thing.

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

The chapter is really expositional in an isolated way and so I have to backtrack for context without being boring.

❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

Blessed beyond belief.

Now tagging @artsyunderstudy @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cutestkilla @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @j-nipper-95 @noblecorgi @prettygoododds @thewholelemon @valeffelees @roomwithanopenfire @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe omg and @emeryhall tell me everything

#ikabikam #bonus content

26 notes · View notes

solreefs · 3 years ago

Text

In fifth grade, we had homework

More homework than I had ever had

This was not the starting point

But it was when I first noticed

So it is easiest to start here

In fifth grade, we had homework

In fifth grade, we had tests

In fifth grade, we had notes to take

In fifth grade, we had projects to do

In fifth grade, I began to lose control

I was late on almost every assignment

And that’s not exaggerating

“Can I bring it tomorrow?”

“I forgot it at home.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have it.”

“I need to fill out a late sheet.”

On and on and on

Late sheets

Bright yellow sheets of paper that asked you

What assignment you were missing

Why you didn’t have it

And what you would do to fix the problem

Math homework

Forgot it at home

Be more organized, put my homework away once I finish it

Science worksheet

Can’t find it, might need another copy

Be more organized

Character worksheet for novel study

Forgot where I put it

Be more organized

Many

Late

Sheets

Many

Times

But I passed every test

Even though I never studied

I beat everyone in review games

My notes were illegible

So I typed them instead

And often forgot to print them

Why was this a problem?

It never had been before

Once, in second grade

I forgot my math homework

I was so worried my teacher would be mad

For the twentieth time, in fifth grade

I handed my mom a late sheet to initial

And it was almost part of the daily routine

It didn’t get better from there

I just got better at hiding it

I fell apart quietly, when no one was around

I procrastinated but pretended to work on projects in class

Then finished them at home the last night we had

Fueled by panic and self-loathing

I tried not to fidget

I finished homework under the desk the class period before it was due

But none of this fixed my problems

I still spent study hall doodling

Still stared at the wall instead of working

Still spaced out constantly

Still never knew what to say

How to talk to teachers or classmates

Still couldn’t remember when we had tests

Still couldn’t be bothered to write down a to-do list of schoolwork

It was like life was a game

And everyone but me had a copy of the rule book

I’d heard there was a name for this

My brother had it

But I didn’t

Because I couldn’t

I was fine

I did my research

I probably did have it

I read about the accommodations you could have

I read about getting a diagnosis

How usually it started from a teacher referral

Well, there went that

No teacher would ever refer me

And I couldn’t ask them to

I was too awkward

And anyway, I didn’t need them to

What would it accomplish?

Those accommodations sound nice

More than that

I think they might help

No, I’m fine

I don’t need help

I’m just lazy

I don’t have ADHD

I think I have ADHD

No, I’m fine

Even if I did, it’s fine

I’m managing

I’m fine

I say as I procrastinate another project

And hate myself for it

I’m fine

I say as I cover my eyes and ears

Because everything is just too much

I’m fine

I say as I frantically search through my folders

For something I know is in there

Probably

I’m fine

I say, having tossed and turned all night instead of sleeping

For weeks

Maybe months

I’m fine

I say, not remembering something that happened two days ago

And thinking yesterday was a month ago

I’m fine

I say, wanting to yell at myself until I can’t scream any longer

I’m fine

I say, spacing out while standing on a four-inch beam

I’m fine

I say, making jokes about how I’m not

But never being serious

I’m fine

I say, because I have to be

I’ve gotten this far

Why should now be any different?

Why should I ask for anything?

I’m fine

I’m not fine

#Ann writes #poetry #my poems #original poetry #vent poetry #in a way #tw vent #tw adhd #tw self hate #tw denial #ask to tag #so uh…#yeah i wrote a poem about adhd and it ended up being really long #okay to reblog

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journalxxx · 3 years ago

Text

By Hook or by Crook (7)

“So! How does it look?” Toshinori asked, with a booming voice and his best hands-on-hips pose to kickstart the endeavor with a healthy dose of enthusiasm.

He wasn’t particularly successful.

“Daunting. Impossible. Like I’m gonna die of old age before I’m anywhere close to making a change.”

“A little optimism goes a long way, you know?”

“...I may not die before I’ve lugged away some of this.” Midoriya amended tentatively, scanning the extensive length of garbage-filled beach stretching before them. “And… what doesn’t kill me will make me stronger?”

“That’s the spirit!” Toshinori gave him a pat on the back, strong enough to make the boy stammer forwards. He walked around the back of the truck and started unloading the few supplies he’d brought.

“Wear these.” Toshinori threw him a pair of work gloves. He hoped he’d eyeballed the size right. “I trust you’re up to date with all your vaccines.”

“Uhm.”

“Hopefully no one’s dumping organic waste in here, but I’ll bring some traps if you see any rats. They won’t solve the problem, but it’s better than letting them scurry around freely.”

Midoriya’s eyes darted between the gloves and the beach with muted horror. “R-Rats?”

“Scared of rats?” Toshinori couldn’t help but tease. “Did I mention that I had to wade through the sewers for half an hour before finding you and the sludge villain the other day?”

Midoriya instantly looked mortified. “I-I’m sorry-”

“Not your fault! Don’t apologize!” Toshinori tossed his hands in the air. This kid desperately needed to learn the basic mechanics of humor. “I’m just saying that heroes can’t be squeamish! Rats come with the job, as well as a variety of nasty stuff and filth.”

“Right.” Midoriya followed him as Toshinori, cooler in one hand and bag of papers in the other, sat down on the last steps of the stairs. He picked an egg sandwich for himself and fished a folder out of the bag, opening it on his thighs and starting to read it.

It took him a few seconds to realize that Midoriya was still staring at him, as if awaiting further instructions.

“Well? Have at it!” Toshinori gestured widely at his new playground.

“Oh, uhm, okay.” The kid donned the gloves and took a single step towards the piles before pausing to look at Toshinori again. “I thought you wanted to ask me… stuff.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure you can handle working and talking at the same time without building up some stamina first.” Toshinori answered, eyeing the boy’s scrawny frame critically. “We’ll talk while you’ll be taking a break to catch a breather, which is probably going to happen sooner rather than later.”

“Oh… All right.” Midoriya turned away, his arms hanging limply from hunched shoulders as he muttered to himself. “...Where do I even start...?”

“From the small things. Working your way up to the heavier objects.” Toshinori explained patiently, then gave him a pointed look. “I get the feeling you’re procrastinating.”

The boy approached the closest stack… and did nothing. Was he ever going to stop waffling and get cracking? “Meanwhile, you’ll just, uh… do your own thing?”

“Surely you don’t need me to guide you through the elaborate process of moving objects from point A to point B, do you?” Maybe the kid detected the hint of annoyance in Toshinori’s voice, because he finally, finally set to grab the closest piece of junk- “...Oh. Okay, that’s not a great start.”

“What?” Midoriya stopped halfway through picking up what was probably the first electric fan ever invented, all the way back in the Iron Age. “I haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Bend your knees, not your back. Otherwise you’re going to- do you really not know this? Isn’t the correct way to lift weights Household Chores 101?”

“Oh, right, I know.” Midoriya rearranged his stance in a way that was less likely to earn him a slipped disk within the next two hours. “Do people really lift things like this though? It’s… a lot harder than the normal way.”

“For your legs, yes. For your back, no. You’ll thank me when you’ll be old enough to realize you aren’t made out of rubber.”

Toshinori munched slowly while he watched the kid carry his first loads to the truck. That act alone seemed to distract Midoriya to an amusing degree, his gaze often flicking to meet Toshinori’s eyes for just a moment before shooting back in front of him with blatant self-consciousness. Toshinori allowed the boy a few minutes of warm-up, just the time for him to finish his sandwich and sip a small cup of apple juice, before deciding to kick things into proper gear.

“Running from the truck to the heaps and vice versa would help you gain some endurance too, rather than leisurely strolling back and forth.” Toshinori commented as Midoriya walked past him.

The kid stopped in his tracks and regarded him with a mix of horror and aversion that vaguely reminded him of death-row inmates when faced with their executioners.

“What?” Toshinori went on, unperturbed. “Are you expecting to get fit without getting tired?”

“No, of course not-”

“Besides, you’ll need to keep a swift pace if you want to clear the whole beach before the admission exam.”

“Wha- All of it?! Before the…” Midoriya sputtered, arms wrapping more tightly around the broken chair he was holding as if that was supporting him instead of the other way around. “Y-You never said…”

“But of course! They don’t do things by half measures in U.A., so why should you?” Toshinori grinned. “Plus Ultra, am I right?”

Midoriya let out an incredulous chuckle. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no way I can do something like that...”

“Depends on how much elbow grease you’re willing to put into it.”

Midoriya’s expression shifted minutely as he caught onto Toshinori’s seriousness. “But… but that’s impossible! No matter how hard I work, I can’t- I can’t move stuff like that!” He griped, pointing at the wrecked husk of a van half-buried under a mound of assorted refuse. “Even if I do my best-”

“And pray tell, what’s your best?” Toshinori stood up and walked to the kid, ditching the whimsical demeanor. If playful cajoling wasn’t enough to stir him, maybe it was time to bust out the big guns. “What’s the heaviest you can lift? The fastest you can run? The hardest you can push yourself? When’s the last time you actually tried your very best, and how did it fall short?”

Toshinori was already well and truly spent for the day, but he let the provocation and drive in his words stoke the fire within him, and it flared. The Symbol of Peace broke out of his diminutive shell among dramatic wisps of steam, ready to bestow his wisdom more effectively than his rickety counterpart ever could.

“Do you know what’s the only way to gauge your limits? Reaching them. And the only way to get stronger?“ Toshinori held out his arm between them, and clenched his fist resolutely. He relished the sensation of unyielding muscles tensing and bulging under his skin, tangible proof of the truth of his assertions. “Gritting your teeth and smashing past them! Little by little, but constantly!”

Midoriya had only witnessed that transformation once, poorly and by accident, and it showed. The chair had slipped from his hands without him even noticing, and now lay forgotten at his feet on the bare sand. The kid was gawking at him with wide eyes and mouth agape, the very picture of spellbound rapture. It was far from an unfamiliar reaction from whoever was graced by the Symbol of Peace’s presence, and yet it was still flattering, every time.

“You’ll never improve if you keep dwelling on what you think you can do now. Focus on what you want to do next. Visualize it as a clear goal. Build an image out of it, and then carve it in reality. If you really want that van to move, then it will move. If you really want this beach to be clear, then it will be. But you have to put your back, sweat and heart into making it happen!”

All Might captivated his one-man audience with the usual effortlessness, boisterous showmanship and honest positivity deeply intertwined in a way that boggled his detractors’ minds, but that felt so natural and appropriate to Toshinori. He’d made an art out of it, down to the rumble of his voice and the firmness of his gestures and the levity of his attitude, the art of highlighting and displaying the very best parts of himself so that they could resonate louder, better, brighter.

“So what will it be, young Midoriya? Will you clean up this place within the next ten months or not?”

“Y-Yes. I will.” That had done the trick. It was obvious from the way Midoriya’s back straightened and his expression toughened. It was obvious from the spark kindled in his eyes, a reflection of Toshinori’s own passion, still lacking in heat but full of potential.

“Then you’d better get down to it!” The hero sealed the deal with a radiant smile and a thumbs up. “Time’s a-wastin’!”

“Yes, sir!” Midoriya picked up the chair and dashed towards the truck to unload it there, then he immediately bounced back down the stairs and towards the nearest heap of waste. Toshinori observed the boy’s next rounds with his unwavering smile and few approving nods that kept the kid a bit lighter on his feet.

How much easier it was for All Might to touch people’s hearts. How much easier to inspire, to reassure, to nurture. How much easier everything was for All Might, really. If only that shining beacon of hope wasn’t shackled by the whims of a withering body, how much richer society at large would be for it.

Toshinori let out a deep exhale that took more than just air out of him, and the flame settled down to a low glow. He couldn’t hold back a few wet coughs, and he promptly turned his shrunken back on Midoriya’s concerned glance to sit back on the cool steps.

Unfortunately, there was a lot more than motivation to strength training. Right off the bat, Toshinori could tell that Midoriya wasn’t going to last twenty full minutes of workout. He honestly didn’t know that an ostensibly healthy individual could reach the ripe age of fourteen with such poor body awareness. The boy had coordination and balance on par with a toddler’s: he stumbled on his feet, he tripped on sand, he nearly fell off the stairs twice before realizing that trying to climb them while his view was obstructed by the very items he was carrying might be a less than optimal solution. He seemed to be unaware of the existence of entire muscle groups, and Toshinori had to physically get up and mime movements for him to understand how to exert force more efficiently. Not to mention that he needed incessant needling lest his sprints quickly devolved into lax jogs.

This whole training thing was going to be… an interesting experience, Toshinori could already tell.

Exactly sixteen and a half minutes later, the boy all but collapsed on the stairs beside Toshinori, gasping for air and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

“B-Break?” He pleaded, quite redundantly.

Toshinori took pity on his plight and pushed the cooler in his direction. “Have a drink.”

“Oh, thank you…” The lack of polite refusal made Toshinori suspect that Midoriya had forgotten to bring his own water.

“There’s sports drinks and fruit juice in there too. Save the snacks for after you’re finished, food and heavy workouts don’t always agree with each other.” Toshinori had packed food primarily for himself, expecting their after-school meeting to last long enough for him to slot in one or two meals in the meantime, but he had taken care of adding a few extras for the kid. A good idea, because the possibility of Midoriya face planting on the ground halfway through out of sheer exhaustion seemed more and more likely by the minute.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to…”

“I promised bribes, didn’t I?”

Midoriya flashed him the tiniest smile, and eagerly drank some water while Toshinori retrieved a small journal and a pen from the other bag. He skimmed through the list of preliminary topics he’d scribbled on the first page under Tsukauchi’s advice, wondering which one he should tackle first.

“All right.” Deciding to follow his instinct in spite of basic common sense, Toshinori decided to begin from the end. “These phone calls of yours. Give me an idea of what they’re like. The last one you had with your father was on April 1st, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it. Everything you talked about, as precisely as you can remember it.”

The good thing was that Midoriya’s memory was very accurate, and he was able to recall the whole conversation basically step by step. The less good thing was that said conversation was largely commonplace and unremarkable, consisting of very ordinary small talk and inquiries about school, grades, news, local events-

“Quirks?”

“Mh-hm.” The boy nodded. “We always end up talking about quirks, in one way or another. Quirks and heroes. It’s always been… a common interest.”

“Always, uh?”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing it since… forever, really. I’ve always found quirks fascinating, and he has lots of great insight to offer.”

“I can imagine...” Toshinori mumbled. Asking who had initiated that habit was probably pointless, it sounded like it had started too early in the boy’s life for him to remember - or even to understand if he had been deliberately led to develop that interest. Some intriguing nature-versus-nurture speculations could be made on the matter, but they weren’t likely to aid Tsukauchi’s case. “And in what way do you talk about them?”

“We… analyze them, discuss them. What is known for sure about a certain quirk, what can be deduced from footage and descriptions of its use, what its unmentioned limitations might be, how it could be further developed… You saw my notebook, right? Basically the kind of stuff that’s in there.”

“Wait.” Toshinori blinked. Could he have already stumbled into a treasure trove of All For One-certified information? “You mean that all that’s written in that notebook was dictated by your father?”

The kid almost choked on his next gulp of water, and shot Toshinori an almost offended look. “No! No, no, it’s all stuff I found out on my own! Well, almost all of it, there are some additions of his here and there, but… Uh, I’d say at least 90% of it is mine, and 10% of it is his… Actually, more like 95% and 5%-”

Well, that sounded less promising, but it was still a lead. “So he’s been basically teaching you how to conduct your own quirk analyses?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say teaching. I wish our school teachers were that engaging...” Midoriya let out a small sigh. “But I guess we do go about it a little like with school essays. Research, deadline, discussion and all that…”

“Pardon?”

“Well, every month we decide which heroes or quirks we’re going to talk about the next time - back in March we chose Hawks, Kido and Snatch for last month’s call, for example. During the rest of the month we gather information and draw our conclusions, and then we compare them during the next chat.”

“You’ve got quite the well-oiled routine going on there, haven’t you?”

“Actually, I think it’s just to give me a chance to make my own deductions with a clear head instead of on the fly.” Midoriya scratched said tousled head in embarrassment. “I bet he doesn’t even need to do any research, he’s always on the top of his game. I’ve never been able to, uh… one-up him, you know? He always knows what I’m driving at, and somehow he always brings my hypotheses two or three steps further than where I stop.”

Toshinori answered with a non-committal hum. No surprise there, the man was a living quirk storeroom complete with its own self-congratulatory, sentient database. “You don’t seem too bothered by it though.”

“Oh, I’m not. It’s not like he’s ever… disappointed or angry or anything, even if I don’t get stuff. He just enjoys chatting, I guess.” That he surely did, Toshinori grimly thought. Way too much. “And I do too. It’s kind of like a game. Or a challenge.”

“A challenge?”

“Yeah, uh… How can I explain…?” The boy drummed his fingers on the bottle as he collected his thoughts. “Okay, for example: one of the first things dad asked me about Hawks was what shape his wings are, and what I could deduce from that about his flight capabilities. Which was a trick question! I knew it as soon as I heard it, because I’d already figured out the real answer during my research.”

“Ah.” Toshinori blinked. “And… how is that a trick question, exactly?”

“Because Hawks doesn’t actually fly! Not like a bird, at least, so his wing shape doesn’t matter!” Midoriya beamed, and suddenly Toshinori realized that that was the first real, genuine, enthusiastic smile the boy had given him since they’d met. And, without exaggeration, not crying, panicking or grimacing made him look almost like an entirely different person. “He simply can’t! Humans can’t fly even if you stick a pair of wings to them, they’re just too heavy! Other heroes who can fly properly are mostly transformers, like Ryukyu - their whole bodies change when they shift, bone structure and all - but Hawks’ body is entirely human if you exclude his wings.”

Midoriya reached for his backpack and drew out the same charred notebook Toshinori had signed days earlier. An item so vital to the kid’s daily life that he always had it with him, apparently, even more essential than beverages during a workout session. A peculiar, if questionable, trait.

“What Hawks actually does isn’t flying, it’s levitating!” The kid held the notebook open before Toshinori’s eyes on a spread page dedicated to the hero in question. “He uses the second facet of his quirk, the telekinesis that allows him to control his feathers singularly! That also explains his incredible speed, which is completely unjustifiable if you only take into account normal bird flight aerodynamics. His propulsion is powered by his feathers - and each of them is quite speedy and powerful on its own, so it stands to reason that he would be lightning-fast when his wings contain so many of them pushing him in unison!”

Toshinori politely elected to wait for the onslaught of words to subside on its own, although he already suspected that it was a little like standing right under a waterfall and waiting for someone higher up to turn off the faucet.

“That said, that doesn’t explain everything about his quirk… For example, a single feather of his is capable of lifting and transporting an adult person, that has been extensively documented. Yet, he loses the ability to levitate relatively soon after dispatching too many of them - he becomes unable to float even when he still has at least several dozens of them attached to his body. We couldn’t figure out why that happens with the information we have. Maybe it’s harder for him to apply his power to himself, that is often the case for emitters. Maybe it messes with his proprioception, and he can’t control the feathers he hasn’t detached as finely as all the others…”

If there was one thing Toshinori was absolutely certain of at this point, it was that the kid wasn’t short on breath any more. “And this is the part you inferred on your own.”

“Yep! And dad agreed with all of it!” Midoriya’s smile grew even wider. It was astonishing how much it didn’t look like dad’s deranged, shark-like, nightmare-inducing sneer, and Toshinori could only send a quiet thanks to the heavens for that. “This is all guesswork though. Do you… by any chance, do you know if we were on the right track? I’d be really curious to know…”

“Ah, I can’t help you there, kid.” Toshinori felt suddenly on the spot. “I’m not acquainted with Hawks, nor do I know more about his quirk than the average person.”

“Oh, I thought… Since you’re both- I mean, I thought All Might may have met him during the billboard chart events, what with them both being in the top ten.”

“We passed by each other, yes, but we were never properly introduced. He wasn’t particularly interested in rubbing elbows with the old guard, I suppose.”

“Oh. Well, that’s his loss, for sure.” Midoriya, funnily enough, pouted. “Pity, I was wondering… Even if he doesn’t fly, he does flap his wings in a way that resembles a bird’s. I wonder if that’s intentional, to mislead opponents and prevent them from figuring out how he actually moves. Or maybe he does it subconsciously…”

“I’m afraid I really don’t know…” Toshinori had never met Hawks on the field either, it wasn’t common for accidents to require more than a single big-name hero to intervene these days. Especially if one of them was the number one, who often showed up first and invariably solved any incident in mere minutes-

Toshinori suddenly came back to himself and almost facepalmed in frustration. Why was he letting himself be interrogated about completely irrelevant hero trivia? He was the one asking questions! God, he was bad at this. “And your father had nothing to contribute about all this?”

“Not about this specifically, but he did raise a point I hadn’t considered.” Midoriya looked up at the sky, once again lost in his very wordy, very deep lucubrations. “Hawks has an astonishing control on his quirk. He can use his telekinesis to move hundreds of feathers at once, to sense his surroundings, he can even harden them and turn them into weapons. He made Fierce Wings into an incredibly versatile ability, and he’s so young too… And yet, there’s no record of him attending any hero school or training facility in Japan, nor abroad. He claims to be self-taught, but… admittedly, it is hard to believe. One would think he must have had some excellent education and tutoring to make it into the top ten when he was only eighteen…”

Toshinori didn’t reply. Midoriya looked back at him when the silence stretched, and whatever he spied on Toshinori’s face made him immediately backpedal. “I-I mean, it’s odd, but, uh… not suspicious per se, nor a sign of anything… weird or bad about him. There are many heroes who, ehr, prefer to keep their personal history private, especially geniuses, and that’s fine! They have all the right to! Same goes for their quirks, it makes total sense-”

Toshinori massaged his left temple slowly. Right, better just nip this topic in the bud before it got irredeemably out of hand.

He peered again at the notebook in Midoriya’s hands. So All For One had been imparting occasional, amicable quirk analysis lessons to the kid for a good decade, which sounded suspiciously like the kind of knowledge a potential underling or successor might use. On the other hand, Toshinori could think of a million other ways for the Symbol of Fear to instil skills in his son - all of them remarkably more efficient, safe, manageable and ruthless. The whole thing was contradictory in a way that didn’t sit right with Toshinori.

“Mind if I take another look at that?” Toshinori had been in a bit of a rush the first time round, and he’d only taken a cursory glance at the contents of Midoriya’s notes. But if there was a chance of those pages containing words uttered by All For One himself, a more thorough examination was in order.

“Not at all! But, uh…” Midoriya was fast to hand out the item, but his eagerness to assist was even faster to dampen. “Are you going to retain this as evidence too?”

“Mh, I don’t think that will be necessary...” Right, the poor kid’s house had probably been ransacked even further after Toshinori and Tsukauchi’s first pass. No wonder he was worried about losing this prized possession too. “But if it will be, I can make a copy of it for you to keep, so you won’t lose all your, uh, data.”

“Oh, thanks! That would be great!” The kid perked up instantly. He was so easy to please. “Although… I guess I should make a copy of it myself anyway. It’s already kind of… unrecoverable. I could detach the pages with All Might’s sign and preserve those separately, and just photocopy everything else…”

Toshinori’s imagination mercilessly supplied him with the picture of a new addition to Midoriya’s bedroom decor, his five-second poorly-made signature hung to a wall in an elegant frame. He repressed a groan, deliberately neglected to point out that he could simply provide as many new authentic signs as needed, and directed his attention back to the scorched edges of the notebook. “Right… What happened to this thing, anyway? Did someone put it in a toaster?”

Midoriya let out a totally not nervous chuckle as he wrung his hands in a totally not nervous fashion. “Oh, uhm... You know…” Toshinori didn’t, actually, but the kid didn’t elaborate either.

Well, he was allowed to have a modicum of privacy, still. Toshinori let the issue drop, and nudged the boy with his foot. “You seem well rested. Back to the trash you go.”

Midoriya shuffled to his feet less than enthusiastically, and resumed toiling away at his task. While still checking on him often, ready to poke and prod at the first hint of sluggishness, Toshinori browsed through the kid’s notebook. While the contents were indeed worthy of attention, they were scarce in quantity. It must be rather new, since less than a quarter of the pages had been filled. However, the promise of more material to be discovered made Toshinori withhold his judgement on the matter for the time being.

Once that was done, he continued his perusal of the few files Tsukauchi had already put together about the Midoriya case. Toshinori had practically begged his friend to let him have an active role, any active role in the case: he simply couldn’t bear to twiddle his thumbs until someone else kindly pointed him to All For One’s hideout for another overdue thrashing. He simply needed to be involved, or he’d probably start crawling up walls within a week.

Questioning the kid was pretty much the only suitable occupation for him, currently… Well, it was either that or questioning Mrs. Midoriya, and Toshinori was fairly sure that his brain would leak out of his ears if he heard any more details about All For One’s romantic escapades. He wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to investigative work, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he was going to spare no effort to earn some results. If that meant poring over reams of police reports in the hopes of spotting some helpful clue, so be it. At least it would keep him busy, and busy was good, especially in trying times.

He’d applied the same logic to Midoriya, in a sense. The boy seemed the kind of person who’d very easily overthink himself into a negative spiral, even in less dire circumstances than the messy family drama he’d found himself into. It would do him good to focus on a better future, rather than on his depressing present. Giving him a goal to set his sights on would keep him going more smoothly.

At first Toshinori had thought to motivate him towards his dream career, but it turned out that the boy’s strategy about the admission test was… nebulous at best. Not that he could truly blame him for it: fourteen-year-old Toshinori didn’t exactly have a multi-step plan towards becoming the Symbol of Peace either, one couldn’t help being somewhat scatterbrained at that age.

The illegal dumping site had been a serendipitous discovery, and cleaning it up was the perfect type of goal to incite the boy towards. It was very obvious and straightforward, and required no intricate planning: he simply needed to roll up his sleeves and buckle down. And the muscle he’d build while doing it would serve him well for heroic purposes too, so it was a win-win on all fronts. Not to mention that some good old physical exertion would help him sleep at night, which he was still struggling with, if the persistent bags under his eyes were of any indication. Toshinori dearly missed the times when that trick still worked on him too, when driving himself to the brink of exhaustion was a guaranteed one-way ticket to restful and regenerative dreamland. Nowadays, if he accumulated even a sliver of excessive fatigue, all he got was… well, fatigue. And a metric ton of unrelenting body pains and lasting debilitation.

The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly and unremarkably. Midoriya drudged through many rounds of garbage disposal with decreasing energy and verve, but that was to be expected. Toshinori collected more barely relevant and generally useless information, but that was to be expected too. They were both in for the long haul, there was no point in getting upset about it. Eventually the sun started to set, and Toshinori beckoned the boy back to him with a handwave.

“You have more of these?” Toshinori said, tapping his index on the big 13 on the cover of the notebook still on his lap.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Could you bring them with you next time?”

“All of them?” Midoriya seemed frazzled.

“If you still have them, yes. Would that be a problem?”

The boy scratched his head as his cheek reddened slightly. “N-No, not a problem, but some of them are really… I finished the first one when I was seven. They aren't just outdated, they’re… ehr, childish. Just doodles and misspelled ramblings.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll be grading them.” Not yet, at least. Toshinori smirked at his own private joke. Maybe he should grade them, as a small practice run. “I just want to give a quick read to a few things here and there.”

“O-Okay…”

“Good. Well, I think we can call it a day.” Toshinori rummaged in his cooler to fetch a chocolate energy bar, and tossed it to the exhausted boy. “Catch.”

Despite the warning, Midoriya did not catch, and the snack bumped against his chest and fell to the ground with a sad clack. Reflexes were MIA too, apparently. What a rare specimen of a prospective hero Toshinori had crossed paths with.

“T-Thank you!” Midoriya immediately picked it up, unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth as he hopped into the passenger seat of the truck. Whether it was real hunger or fear of passing as rude, Toshinori couldn’t tell.

The drive to Midoriya’s house was brief. The boy was too tired to chat - as if they hadn’t already had their fill for the day. When they arrived and Midoriya climbed out of the vehicle to be on his way, Toshinori finally addressed one last pressing issue.

“Tomorrow your father is going to call you.”

“Yeah.” The kid’s eyes dropped to the ground. Maybe Toshinori should have brought it up sooner. Way to end the meeting on a sour note.

“How are you going to handle that?”

“I’m not.” The boy shrugged. “Mom will tell him I just got my tonsils removed. It's… safer for now. I think.”

Toshinori nodded. “Let’s take a day off then. Even if you can’t speak, he might want to say something to you, and it would be strange for you not to be at home while recovering.”

“Okay.”

He looked so very small, and so very young like that, bathed in the warm hues of sunset, but with no real warmth to his eyes and demeanor. He was too small and too young to be dealing with this shit. No one was old or big enough to deal with any of All For One’s shit, really. Toshinori would have to make sure no one would have to ever again.

“Thank you for your help today. It’s very appreciated, believe me.” Toshinori offered, with his most sincere smile. “Feel free to text me or Tsukauchi if anything comes up, you should be able to reach at least one of us at any hour of day or night.”

“Okay. Thank you. Have a good evening.”

“You too, kid.” Toshinori watched him until the door of his house closed behind his back, then he drove off.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #deku #izuku midoriya #All Might #Toshinori Yagi

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deejadabbles · 4 years ago

Text

A Thousand Songs (Atem/Yami x Reader)

Chapter One: We Are Broken

One /// Two /// Three /// Four /// [Five Coming Soon]

Summary: You knew that you and your band could make it big. Not only that, but stay together while doing it; the five of you were family, after all. The only problem was that despite all your musical talents...none of you were particularly good at lyrics. After years of struggling to put out your first full album, the solution finally made himself know in chance meeting on an empty stage.

Rock Band AU, Atem x Reader, gender neutral reader.

A.N. Woo look at me, starting a new series before I finish my current ones. Don't hate me I have the attention span of a squirrel! I know band AUs are pretty cheesy but I don't care, this idea has been floating in my head for awhile and it's super cute okay?? I was also going to wait to post this until all the chapters were done but I couldn't control myself anymore. These chapters will be much shorter than my usual length so hopefully that means I can update faster??? I won't make any promises but I'll try. Anywho, I hope you guys like fashionable, sensitive Atem because that's who'll be featured in this fic <3 The reader's gender is never mentioned but I will admit I tended to lean more towards songs sung by women in this, I don't really think that matters though (I have Atem sing songs originally sung by women so...). I really hope you guys like this series and I'll love to hear your thoughts <3 Also: @ohyema This is the series I told you about all that time ago lol

I am outside

And I've been waiting for the sun

With my wide eyes

I've seen worlds that don't belong

My mouth is dry

With words I cannot verbalize

Tell me why

We live like this

The crowd was small, as always, but it was enough. Anyone hearing your songs was enough for now, or so you told yourself week after week. You felt Yugi’s eyes on you as you leaned away from the mic, plucking the cords of your Stratocaster for the brief solo and you looked to your left to see him smiling at you; always the positive optimist, the sun that shone on you and the rest of the band.

You flashed him the briefest smile in return before turning back to the mic. If you closed your eyes, got lost in Anzu’s keys, Jou’s steady beats, and Honda’s strings, you could almost pretend you were playing in front of a packed venue. One full of fans solely there to hear music, and not just a dozen or so patrons who enjoyed the music as a backdrop to their late-night drinks.

Keep me safe inside

Your arms like towers

Tower over me

You could have sworn you heard another voice in the crowd join yours as the chorus came. Ah, so there was an actual fan in the crowd.

Cause we are broken

What must we do to restore

Our innocence

And all the promise we adored?

Give us life again

Cause we just wanna be whole

Your eyes fluttered back open for the briefest second and through the smoky haze in the room, you saw that someone at the bar was holding up their phone, camera aimed at the stage. That managed to make you smile, at least you had someone’s attention.

Lock the doors

Cause I'd like to capture this voice

It came to me tonight

So everyone will have a choice

And under red lights

I'll show myself it wasn't forged

We're at war

We live like this

“Are you guys on SoundCloud or anything? Cos that was pretty awesome!” asked a young man who looked barely old enough to be in the bar at all.

You were just helping Yugi pack away his turntables, having finished your set and wishing the small crowd a good night. The young man was with two others, all of them looking enthused as they stood at the base of the small stage. The girl even giggled when Honda winked at her.

Yugi, as usual, was the one to speak up and pulled out a small leather folder from his back pocket. “Yeah, we are actually! We also have a youtube channel,” he pulled cards from the folder, black cardstock with your band’s name, logo, and media accounts scrawled across it in gold text. He handed one to each in the trio, smile still bright on his face, “Check us out if you get the chance, we’re trying to put out a new album this summer, so we should have plenty of new songs to listen to soon.”

With a few ‘cool man’s and ‘awesome’s, the trio wandered back to the bar, the one who had spoken already pulling out his phone with the card in hand, and the girl waving at Honda over her shoulder.

“You know you shouldn’t get their hopes up,” Anzu whispered as she set her keyboard case at the foot of the stage, “Two songs does not an Album make- we have no clue when we’ll actually have it out!”

“Well,” you chimed in, clicking one of Yugi’s several cases closed, “Maybe telling new fans to expect more from us will finally light a fire under our song-writing-asses.” When Jonouchi opened his mouth, that cheeky look on his face, you held up your hand to silence him, “And yes, I know I procrastinate too much, I’m to blame too.”

Yugi lifted two of his cases- and answered after Jou jumped in to take the heavier of the two, “I still think all of us should take a week's vacation, lock ourselves in our studio and work on the album together. Only getting together a few times a week is what’s really killing us I think- we can’t get into a creative groove!”

You and Anzu exchanged a look, knowing full well that neither of your bills would appreciate the week's loss in pay. Still, maybe it was something that you guys could find a way to work out. Then again, there was another idea that had been brewing in the back of your mind for a while now, and you weren’t sure if it was really something that the others in your band would go for...like, at all.

“I don’t know, a week probably wouldn’t even be long enough,” Honda chimed in after slinging his guitar case over his shoulder, grabbing an amp in the free hand.

Jou nodded as you all started filing out the bar’s back door, “I’m still thinking that gettin’ together every single night until the album’s done is the best way to go, even if it’s just for a few hours!”

This was the usual road the song writing debate took, or at least, how it usually went the past month or so, and soon enough the topic came to a standstill, as it usually did.

After loading up Jonouchi’s truck with your equipment, Honda gave the suggestion of stopping for some burgers at the 24 hour joint down the road, a common ritual after your monthly gig at “The Bandit’s Den”. As usual, Jou parked in the space best visible from the front windows of the dinner, and the five of you were glad to find that not another soul sat at the tables.

After settling at your usual booth and ordering, Yugi actually splayed his hands out on the table, looking rather determined. “You don’t start work until seven tomorrow. Right?” he asked you.

“Yeah?”

“I think we should take another trip to the station.”

You actually had to repress a sigh at that. Yugi was all about trying to trigger inspiration for songs, and the “station” referred to an old train station on the outskirts of town. You guys had discovered it long ago and were eager to use it in a music video, but were waiting for the perfect song to go with it. Sure, the old giant clock and brick stairs were a perfect setting, but it had only sparked a line or two of lyrics, nothing to make a full song.

Out of the five of you, most of the lyric writing fell on your’s and Yugi’s shoulders, with Anzu, Honda, and Jonouchi giving occasional input. Since you were the lead singer most seemed to think you would be the natural lyric maker, but the truth was that, despite your talent in singing and playing the lead guitar, lyrics just weren’t your forte. You’d had some luck when teaming up with Yugi, his emotional maturity helping you work through the written expressions, but that only went so far. Yugi also tried things like this, exercises and field trips in the hopes that it would spark creativity.

“How many times have we been to the station before, Yugi?” you asked, “I just don’t think it’s the oracle of inspiration we all hoped it would be. I still want to film there some time, but I don’t wanna take time out to visit it again, I’ll just get annoyed when it doesn’t lead to anything.”

Yugi’s set expression seemed to blink away, replaced with something almost like guilt, “Okay, I was just trying to think of something to get our inspiration flowing…”

Now you’re the one who felt guilty. “I know...hey maybe we could try something new? Like we could go some other place or try some different way to spark our heads?” you suggested, trying to sound positive.

Yugi’s eyebrows lifted in interest, but he was cautious when he asked, “Like what?”

“I…” you trailed off when your mind came up blank. It remained blank even as your eyes trailed over the entirety of the empty dinner as well as the dark scenery outside. A growl of frustration left your throat as you face planted on the table, “I don’t know!”

You heard Yugi giggle as he reached out and patted your head. Beside him, Jonouchi said, “What you need is some brain food! That’s sure to help some ideas come- ah! And here’s our feast now!”

Even though the food was good, kick-start your brain, it did not. If anything the meal just made you more sleepy, even as you guys chatted over the next hour before paying the tab and piling back into Jou’s truck.

Like always the next stop was the studio, the home and hideaway for you and your friends. For a small-time band whose biggest fame was on Youtube, all of you were actually quite proud of your studio. Yugi’s grandfather owned a few rental properties, and since the building wasn’t fitting for a residential space, nor in a part of town that would serve a shop well, he had agreed to give you guys the small building in exchange for help around his game shop every week.

Working together to make the space your own was some of the best memories you had with your oldest friends; going to second-hand shops to gather fitting set pieces, saving up for the sound dampeners so you could record your songs without paying a big-time studio, setting up the back room with tattered old furniture and a mini-fridge that was sure to break down any day.

The only thing that beat those days were the times you actually spent in the studio; rehearsing, recording your few music videos, spending downtime together writing new music on lumpy bean bag chairs and worn rugs (and definitely getting distracted by each other every ten minutes).

The night was late enough that no one bothered the five of you as you unloaded the truck, and soon enough all of you were taking your usual spots in the back room (Anzu sprawling out on the battered chaise, Jonouchi and Yugi filling up the loveseat, Honda falling onto a pair of beanbags, and you plopping down in the hammock chair).

“Alright you guys, I’m just going to come out and say it,” Anzu sighed after a few moments of hanging off the arm of her seat, “We need help writing our songs.”

You actually sat up as straight as you could in your chair and peered over at her- had she really just said what you had been thinking of saying for weeks?!

When she saw your look, something like panic colored her face as she waved her hands, “Not that I don’t think you’re a good writer! The songs you came up with were awesome! ...But-”

You waved off her concern, the hard motion causing your hammock to spin a little, “No- no, Anzu, I totally agree! I just didn’t know if I should bring it up...”

Even if you hadn’t thought of it too, Anzu had plenty of reason to think you needed help. In the whole four years since your group had started the band, from the first days sitting in class drawing up logo ideas, you had only written six original songs- and that included the two that were meant to go on your new album. You had gotten by with relying on covers to fill out your live sets and media accounts and making a host of excuses for the lack of originality.

“You really think bringing in another bandmate’s a good idea?” Honda chimed in, eyes narrow as he leaned back in his beanbag chair.

“Yeah, we don’t wanna end up like half the other bands out there,” Jonouchi chimed in, seeming to subconsciously pull Yugi closer to his side, “you guys know the only reason our band works is because we get each other- we’re family! We can’t just bring another person into that, it’ll ruin it and maybe even break us up!”

Yugi put a hand over Jonouchi’s, “Hey hey, slow down, don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves? First of all, bands hire ghostwriters all the time, and they don’t always join the band. Besides... I don’t know, if the person’s really cool, would it be that bad to have another member?”

“We could always have them ghostwrite for us for a while, and if we like them, then talk about letting them join,” you offered, and were glad when everyone seemed to contemplate that with at least some positivity. “But that brings up the issue I think we’ll have, I’m not sure we can find someone who fits with our style all that easily. Like Jonouchi said, there’s a reason all of us work well together.”

It was true, all of you brought something to the table, something more than an instrument. The five of you had slightly different tastes, all of it coming together in something that wasn’t quite punk, not quite rock, not quite pop or even metal, and that’s what worked to your advantage. You wanted to prove that different sounds and styles could come together in harmony and appeal to listeners all across the spectrum. Not fit into a genre-labeled box that only fans of said genre would even bother listening to.

Eventually, Anzu gave a shrug, “We won’t know until we try. Why don’t we put the word out and see what happens?”

“We can still work on our own, and if we don’t find anyone who fits, we didn’t really lose anything besides time,” Yugi added, and that pretty much settled the matter.

Tomorrow the search for a new member of your team began.

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yugioh #yugioh x reader #Atem #yami yugi #series: a thousand songs #band AU #Yugioh Band AU #violinist atem

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scandeniall · 5 years ago

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no limit to you

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x reader

summary: “Knew right from the start there was no limit to you.” sakusa’s gonna go far and you know it. a look at your relationship throughout some months. (Started out based on Feels by Kehlani but yeah that went left)

warnings: profanity, starts as college students, manga spoilers about career. implied sex, little bit of angst but for like 10 seconds.

wc: 5.4k holy shit this took me all week

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, month 6

“He is the Black Jackals big and promising rookie,” Your heart couldn’t help but swell with pride as the speaker's voice carried across the gym (?). Despite the less theatrical introductions awarded to MSBY you couldn’t help but cheer loudly even yelling out the stupid nickname given to Sakusa by his teammates. One that he insists that he hates. “Go, omi-omi!” To anyone else it’d just look like another stale glance at the speaker, but you didn’t miss the tiniest of smile that graces his face.

It’s his time to shine and you’re by his side to witness it all. — Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Month 3

The sound of rain pounding against the building mixed with the sound of landing volleyballs and squeaking shoes. The men’s volleyball practice is approaching hour 3 and despite Sakusa insisting that you could have just headed back to your apartment you were there anyways. One reason for it was because you knew with him living so close he didn’t drive to campus and despite his tendencies for cleanliness, that’d he’d swallow his pride enough to catch a ride with one of his teammates to avoid the torrential downpour. You figured he’d at least appreciate a ride from you, whose car he knew was relatively clean instead (clean mostly because he always made cleaning and disinfecting your car a “couple activity” every weekend). Another reason was simply because you missed him and was ready to propose getting dinner together. Waiting for him wasn’t a problem anyways, the row of tables overlooking the gym were quite spacious and you utilized the time to get some procrastinated work done. As your small break and time spent switching between the same 3 apps comes to an end you pull up your Snapchat one last time the camera zooming in on sakusa for a few seconds with the caption “a superstar”. You knew Sakusa would frown and scold you for it later (the guy hates being put on stupid Snapchat), but also knew he secretly like when you showed how proud you were. The man was truly destined for greatness and you knew there were no limits to how far he could go. Of course with the relative newness of your relationship, you’ve never told him that. After one last check to make sure the video posts, music flows back into your ears as you began the last hour stretch. “You could’ve gone home you know.” Was the first thing you heard the second the dark haired male sat in the chair in front of you. Plucking your earbuds out all you could do was shrug. “Now is that anyway to greet your cinnamon apple,” you laughed at the displeased look on his face, or more so in his eyes. He must've put his mask on before leaving the locker room. Sakusa was never really one for nicknames and whenever you’d call yourself something from a vine from a thousand years ago he couldn’t hide the scowl on his face.

“All done for the day?” At his nod of assurance you start packing up your bag as Sakusa just watched. He cringed at how you chaotically just packed your papers and laptop into your bag. No folders, or even a ouch for writing utensils. He’d have to get you one. As you finished picking up and fished your keys out of your bag’s pocket you notice Sakusa pull his mask down as he crossed to step in front of you. Placing a quick kiss on your lips, “thank you for waiting.” — Tap. Tap. Tap. Click. Tap. The sounds of scribbling mixed alongside flipped pages and the soft conversations of fellow library goers. The words of the textbook in front of you were beginning to look like gibberish and with that cane even more unconscious fiddling of your pen, a fact not lost on your boyfriend. The sound being so close and frequent broke him out of his own focus bubble. When you insisted the two of you have a study date, you were unsurprisingly met with the excuse of neither of you having the same major. “It doesn’t matter, we can just sit in the library. It’s spending quality time together Kiyoomi,” you’d told him. And it was true, sort of. After you’d finally got into the groove of studying, time seemed to fly and just knowing he was there was comforting enough. “(Y/N). You’re distracting me.” Sakusa was too blunt for his own good sometimes. All you could offer was a mumbled half assed apology, watching as he attempted to focus on his work again. You however? Were done for the time being, deciding to preoccupy yourself with your phone and taking not so sneaky glances at the man sitting in front of you.

“If you paid as much attention to your work as you did me, you’d be doing better in that class.” Maybe he had a point, but who cared. It's not like you were failing the course. Taking another glace up you manage to catch his eye before responding.

“But you're prettier.”

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Month 7

You felt the dip in the bed first. A warm hand resting softly on your back next. Finally your favorite person’s voice. “You're coming to the game right.” You were so tired that you couldn't even be bothered to turn and face the voice.

“Of course. First home game in a while,” you hum out, eyes still closed basking in the softness of the blanket. The weather had been terrible for the past week, completely draining any energy and remaining motivation you had to finish the rest of the semester. Sakusa, on the other hand, had seemingly been unaffected and you envied his tunnel vision like nature. “I can’t wait to see you win y’know.” Sakusa thanked his lucky stars, that your eyes were still closed, because if not you may have seen the red that dusted the tops of his ears. You could hear the sound of hangars knocking in the closet before inquiring about the noise.

“You don’t have a clean jersey for tomorrow’s game right.” He knew that you had a general school fan jersey, but he meant something more specific. One with his number on the back.

“Nothing is guaranteed. The other team is pretty good too.”

“Yeah well, you're better.” --

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 1 If you heard one last critiquing remark from your boyfriend you were going to scream. Or kill him, which currently sounded like the better option. It started with him telling you your kitchen smelled weird, the food cooked hours earlier obviously not Sakusa approved. Next came him cringing as he inquired when was the last time you or roommate had vacuumed the living room. Then came his annoyed look when he noticed your skincare products all over the bathroom counter because you had to rush out this morning. The last straw came as he said something about you getting germs all over your face as you dug the palms of your hands into your eyes. While that one had some validity you were fucking tired. School was sucking, your coworkers are annoying and your boyfriend is a fucking dick. “Can you not try to not be a germaphobe asshole for two seconds, Sakusa,” you exclaim, not even bothering to face him from your spot at your desk. “Do better with cleaning then.”

“What are you, my dad.”

“If I were, you’d know how to clean up properly.”

It was official. Sakusa, Kiyoomi fucking sucks. The tension in the air had grown. Between your pissed stress related retorts and sakusa’s stupid passive aggressive insults the two of you had navigated far away from just arguing about germs. You’d both begun bringing up past situations and feelings that you’d both previously kept buried.

“Half the time I don’t even know if you fucking like me.” That was a lie. He cared and you knew it. But former insecurities paired with his generally aloof nature whenever the two of you were in public caused you to mention it. Insecurties concerning how he was on his way to something great, and that he’d leave you behind with a stupid college degree that you didn’t even know how you were going to use. You’d long abandoned your desk chair, opting to pace around the room. If his eyes were knives, you’d be long dead with the way he was glaring. You hadn’t noticed, but Sakusa even pulled his mask down to engage in this argument.

“Well thats just stupid. But since you're bringing it up, do you even like me,” Sakusa sneered causing you to stop in place.“You’re going out an awful lot these days. Partying more than you used to, aren’t you.” Your state of disbelief hadn’t been lost on him, in fact you looked as if you were going to start laughing at any moment. The way he condescendingly spoke your name sent chills down your spine. “Can’t help but wonder what you’re doing.”

“Oh so now I’m cheating-.”

“I’m just pointing out what I’ve noticed.” He’d hit the realization that he messed up the second the insinuation left his lips. However, he was too far in and so were you. He’d have to make it up to you later, he began to think. Until your humourless laugh filled the air, striking a cord in him, bigger than you’d ever done. This entire night you’d been a ticking time bomb, and were ready to explode.

“Now why the fuck, would I put up with you if I didn’t love you. A year of my life just wasted huh.” The revelation of your love causes Sakusa to pause. Of course the two of you loved one another. It was shown in the little actions. But, until now neither of you had ever uttered the three words to one another.

“(Y/N-)”

“Newsflash, Kiyoomi, you're not an easy person to love. You nag me about shit that only bothers you, and I put up with it. I can’t even come around you with mismatched socks”

“You never want to go out to any kind of party with me and I want you there, yet I’m always willing to go out when you have to with the team.”

“You barely even show that you like me in public. I’ve had friends ask me are we even really dating.”

The end of your rant was accompanied by silence on both of your ends. You were drained. Your throat hurt and your eyes stung. But more importantly your heart ached. Despite the tears building at the back of your eyes you were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. Sakusa on the other hand was deep in thought. The tug on his heartstrings at your admittance was foreign. He didn’t want to say anything to further upset you, and had gotten to know you enough to know you’d want to be alone after a time like this.

The hand that grabbed yours almost felt foreign as Sakusa led you towards your bed. The already long day ending with a quick kiss against your temple, a promise to see you later, and an aching heart.

“Did you and Sakusa- like break up or something,” your friend inquired. It's been 9 days since you’d last heard from Sakusa, and your mopey mood hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. On top of you being unusually downcast they noticed that you hadn’t attended the most recent match. You always went to home games. You already had to deal with the aftermath of your roommate being home and hearing your argument that night, you hadn’t exactly been that quiet during the ordeal.

The next morning marked the start of the weekend, which you’d spent a large part of the day in bed. In the middle of you bothering to fix dinner, your roommate had come home interrupting your pity party. You liked your roommate, you did and the two of you were friendly. But the two of you definitely were not best friends and for them to come home and see you for the first time post argument- awkward.

“Yo- (Y/N), did you hear me? You and Sakusa break up or something,” your friend repeated, breaking you out of your wandering thoughts. “Or something,” you muttered bitterly. The lunch in front of you suddenly looked unappealing. The melting ice cubes floating in your drink taking away your attention.

Just as you began to take your mind off Sakusa in preparation to try and have a relatively normal weekend, your friend just had to bring him up. You loved her, but she was a dumbass for that one. Your entire car ride home you turned on your breakup playlist one you’d made during the demise of your last relationship back in highschool. Something about Miley Cyrus’ 7 Things felt more relatable than ever now that you were older.

Entering your apartment, you waved a greeting to your roommate who looked strangely happy. “Oh (Y/N), you’ve got a gift.” Ok- why the hell was she so cheery about a gift to you. Eying her suspiciously, your roommate pointed past you and your eyes widened.

“Who-”

“Who do you think? Dropped them off a little over an hour ago. Looked disappointed when he realized you weren’t here.”

You half mumbled something kin of appreciation for telling you as you walked toward the kitchen table to see a bouquet of roses, and a card with neatly scribbled handwriting you recognized immediately.

“One rose for every month of putting up with me being a germophobic asshole. Google also said roses meant love. Hope you like them.

P.s: i missed you at the game (and in general)”

14 roses. He even included the two months where you teetered the line between friends and partners. You couldn’t help but laugh at his use of your word choice to describe him. You hadn’t even noticed your roommate peering over your shoulder until she spoke. “He means well. You two should work it out.” If you weren’t planning to before you sure as hell were going to now. “Yeah,” you mused. “You're right.

The gears in your head were absolutely turning, thinking about how you’d reach back out to Sakusa. Obviously he’d been the bigger person and made the first contact, and yeah he was definitely being a jerk that night, but so were you. You were so caught in your own thoughts as you made your way down the short hallway to your room that you hadn’t even noticed the slight rustling. Opening your door you were met with an even bigger surprise.

Sakusa. In your room, gloved up, vacuum out-He was cleaning? Your room?. Your brain short circuits as you were at a loss for words.

“Kiyoomi?” The sound of your roommate teasing telling you two to keep it down went beyond your span of comprehension as you just stood in the doorway. “You should close the door.

---

After you got past the initial shock of seeing Sakusa, he’d taken his gloves off and sat on your bed wordlessly patting the spot next to him. After a brief moment of silence you were the first one to speak. Afterall, he did take the first step at mending your relationship. Now it's your turn. “I’m sorry Kiyoomi. For snapping at you, questioning how you felt when I knew better. I was a bitch for that one.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. I knew how stressed you were already and made it worse. I know how you get when you're upset, and came to straighten up for you.”

“Thanks for that one. I’ll admit, it was starting to bother me too.” A silence filled the air as you shifted closer. Enough so that you could rest your head on his shoulder.

“I know you’re not cheating on me-“

“Wow, how did you figure that out. You are SO smart,” you faked gasped. The teasing comment released any lingering tension between you and before you knew it Sakusa had his normal frowny face at you. The one he tended to get when you jokingly teased or annoyed him. One, never meant with any malice. A softer one reserved just for you. The moment passed quickly and as you removed your head from his shoulder you eyed him seriously. “I wouldn't do that Yoomi. You know that right?”

The thought of him even thinking you’d ever cheat on him didn’t sit right with you. In fact, it had been the main reason you were upset. You could work past anything else said. But that one? You needed to acknowledge it. Your question had been answered when you felt a hand gently rest on the side of your neck pulling you gently towards him. You were so close that you could feel the move of his lips as he reaffirmed what was already known. “I love you too (Y/N). The universe seemed to stop as Sakusa's lips moved softly against yours. you had moved your lingering hand to wrap around the wrist touching you, rubbing gentle circles on his inner wrist. A hold that unconsciously tightens as you felt his tongue languidly slip into your mouth and explore.This kiss was different than any you’d ever shared before. Different from the quick kisses shared when you’d two part ways at the end of dates. Different than the domineering good luck kisses given in quiet hallways outside the locker room before games. Than the tired kisses he’d reluctantly give because your tired whining grated his nerves. Hell, even different than the kisses shared the first time you two had sex. Those were just awkward. This kiss? Was loving. You two loved one another. Those feelings had been made more than clear to the other person. The universe always told you that falling in love too fast and too young would end in disaster. But you’d risk that if you could feel like this everyday.

The need for air forced the two of you to pull away. In that time Sakusa had shifted the two of you so that he was resting against the headboard of your bed, your knees resting on the side of his knees. One hand on your thigh, other resting on your back. He looked so pretty like that. Puffy lips, heavily breathing, and with so much love for you. There was no doubt you looked the same. The rest of his forehead on your shoulder allowed you to gently play with his hair.

“I’ll work on the other things too. But don’t expect me to take care of your drunk ass every weekend.”

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 1, Month 10

“How’s it going Mr MVP.” You pushed your body off the chilled brick, as you eyed your boyfriend up and down. He looked good, really good. He’d just finished the last game of his collegiate career, one that had been won. Not only that, but he had been named MVP and a rookie to look out for going into Division 1 post graduation.

You shifted your hands towards his face but before you could even rest them near you he stopped you with a mini hand sanitizer dangling in your face. “I’m sure you touched that brick while waiting.” After your hands were as sanitized as they could be, you hovered your hands over the corner of his mask, silently asking for permission to lower it. Once you got the go ahead, and felt his hands resting on your hips you pulled him down for a sweet kiss. After pulling away you left your hands wrapped around his neck and began playing with the hairs at the back of his neck.

“You’re a fucking superstar Yoomi. You’re gonna go so far.” You revealed the thoughts that had been in the back of your mind since you met him. And it was true. You knew he’d been looking at a few professional teams, and no matter where he’d go the sky was the limit.

“Now c’mon. It’s party time babe. Last college win celebration,” you cheered pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, and pulling his mask back out. You followed up by reaching into the pocket of his track jacket to pull out his car key. He kept true with his promise of getting better. Still hated unnecessary crowds, but was willing to sacrifice it occasionally to accompany you to celebratory parties. Granted he tended to hang out on less populated hallways, even better when parties continued outside. More space to move. The mask also stayed on. College kids are gross.

—-

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you noticed your boyfriend move from his spot on the couch. The two of you had decided on a lazy movie night before the official finals grind began. Dead week was nearly here, and you knew the two of you would have little time to actually hang out. With the end of volleyball season, you’d been spending more time at Sakusa’s place deciding to just head there after class because it was closer. “Yoomi where are you going,” the wording came out more needed than you intended. You didn’t receive an answer, instead met with him disappearing in his room. You decided to just pause the movie, pulling out your phone to reply to a few text messages. Just as you hit send a Manila envelope was placed in your peripheral and Sakusa settled back into his corner of the couch.

“What’s this,” you questioned, shifting so that you were looking at Sakusa. The only thing you were gifted with was a shrug and a motion to open the envelope. You hesitated a moment before your eyes widened

“Wait. Kiyoomi is this…”. The confident smirk told you everything you needed to know. This was it. There was no secret that Sakusa was most likely going to go pro after graduation, but no one knew what team he’d end up playing for. He’d had many people; Professors, coaches,teammates, acquaintances, parents ask what he planned on doing now that graduation was essentially on your doorsteps. No one ever got an answer out of him, including you. He hadn’t even hinted at any team preference to you, brushing it off and changing the subject whenever you tried to see where his head was.

“Are you gonna open it or just stare.” You noted the slight waver in his voice, one that would have gone unnoticed to any ear untrained in the study of Sakusa Kiyoomi. You didn’t even know why you were so nervous, it wasn’t even your career. Taking a deep breath you pulled out the stack of papers, eyes drifting to the first paragraph mumbling the words aloud.

“We are excited to have you. We welcome your commitment to MSBY Black Jackals-“ you would have dropped the stack of papers had you not had them tugged out of your tight grip and placed on the table in front of you. “Holy shit,” you exclaimed, launching yourself at your boyfriend (uncomfortably knocking him against the corner of the couch, but he’d let you have this moment.)

Next you started babbling about how proud you were of him in between kisses all over his face. (Another thing he’d let you have for the moment despite the feel of your lip balm also sticking onto his face”). You were so happy for him, that you didn’t even notice the blush making its way on his face. His hand settling themselves on your waist, he basked in the attention from you.

When the shock managed to wear off, you had settled yourself into his lap. Sitting sideways, you had one hand playing with his hair, the other picking up your phone to record a video.

“And today, we have the greatest volleyball player in the world commuting to the greatest team in the world,” you beamed the front camera on you both.

“Look at that future (Y/N), Yoomi isn’t even swatting the camera away tonight. Looks like he looooooves me for once-“

“I always love you. You’re just annoying sometimes.” The jest was meant with a light kiss on your clothed shoulder before you continued, this time facing Sakusa instead of the camera

“Y’know. I knew right from the start there was no limit to you,” you spoke softly, eyes beaming.

“Is that so.” A real smile graced his face, as you moved the hand previously playing with his hair to gently trace over the moles on his face. “Thank you for believing.” You felt Sakusa take your phone from you cutting the camera. What took place after, definitely didn’t need to be caught on camera.

—

The sun is beaming. The weather is incredible . You were high on happiness, adrenaline, pride and maybe a little bit of caffeine as you currently posed for what felt like your millionth picture in the past 5 minutes. You hadn’t even found your family yet, surrounded by 100s of your peers all celebrating the same accomplishment. You did it. You were a college graduate. You had a degree. You felt another tap on your shoulder, as you happily screamed to your friend you’d made being in the same program.

“Dude I can't believe it!”

“Dude me either!” As the two of you took a quick selfie, your mind wandered to where and how Sakusa was doing. You hadn't seen him at all yet considering you both spent the mornings with your families who came into town. You wondered how he was doing with this whole thing. There were a shit ton of people out here after all. Before you could dwell on it, you felt your phone vibrate with none other than the man himself. You chuckled, already sending his irritation through the message as he told you to come to walk west, at the very edge of the crowd that was growing by the minute in the center. You sent a quick text to your mom about where you’d be, knowing your family were going to want a ton of pictures even with Sakusa.

Your excitement grew further if even possible as you finally found him, throwing your arms around his neck into a tight hug, swaying the both of you. “We did it, Sakusa,” you said, finally pulling away and eying him. He’d taken his cap off already, opting for holding it instead, and having unzipped his gown.

“We have degrees now,” he confirmed using his free hand to grab yours. “It’s too many people here.” All you could do was laugh as you eyed the control chaos going on just across the courtyard from you. You felt an odd sense of peace, just watching. The flowers planted just for graduation season even looked beautiful. Something you may not have paid nearly as much attention to had you not been dating Sakusa.

In fact, if you weren’t dating him you knew you’d be in the middle of the chaos right now. Still happy no doubt, but being able to get away from it even for a few minutes felt amazing. You’d both be thrown back into it in a matter of minutes, squeezing in the last set of pictures with best friends and holding conversations with people you’d have to get used to not seeing several times a week. You knew that Sakusa was almost guaranteed to be forced into a picture with the other graduating volleyball players.

“My families heading over I’m sure,” you hummed bringing your eyes back to Sakusa's profile. The look on his face slightly confuses you. You couldn’t quite tell if it were nerves, irritation, or just a result of squinting from the bright sun.

“We’re gonna have to head back in soon”

“Do you want to move in with me”

The two of you spoke simultaneously. It was official. This is one of the best days of your life.

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, Month 4

“I’m gonna start dinner alright,” you called out as you pulled on one of Sakusa’s clean practice shirts and a pair of his old college sweats. Yes they were big,but they were more comfy than your own. Besides it was nothing a little, (read;a lot) of rolling and cuffing couldn’t fix. It was also his time of the month where you let him control the thermostat, and you’re cold! You’d just gotten out of the shower, him getting in shortly after coming home from a training day. The gym showers only do so much and he needed his own body wash is what he insisted the first time he came home and rushed immediately towards the bathroom.

You pulled out the sheet of paper with a recipe printed on it, courtesy of your co-worker. Earlier in the week you mentioned how you were craving chicken but no other recipe in your arsenal seemed appealing. Lo and behold you were given a sheet of paper with a recipe that apparently his family loved after experimenting with a few online recipes.

Before beginning you connect your phone to your speaker hitting shuffle. You manage to get all the ingredients out before a large knock sounds at your door. Confused, you yell out asking Sakusa if he was expecting anyone. You noticed the sounds of the shower ceased a few minutes ago, and that Sakusa would likely come to keep you company (more like sanitize the spice bottles the second you put one down.)

“Of course not,” with a shrug your wash your hands before gently opening the door. There’s a man. An attractive one- who looks oddly familiar. Wait, that guy is on Black Jackals, you note. Miya, Atsumu.

“Um hi,” you greet sounding more like a question, opening the door a bit wider.

“Shit! Did I come to the wrong apartment? I'm looking for Omi-Omi,” you noticed him trail off eyeing the shirt you were wearing. Omi-Omi? Sakusa must’ve heard him because the way he sprinted into the living room showed a scowl evident on his face. It even caused you to back up as Atsumu entered in.

“Why are you here. And how did you find where I live,” sakusa for right to the point.

“Aw c’mon Omi-Omi what if I missed ya. You left your earbuds in the locker room. Turned on you find my friends and matched the mailbox.” The glare on Sakusa’s face was one you recognized only when you genuinely irritated him. Not the one where he pretended to be annoyed but secretly wasn’t.

“But enough about that. How come you didn’t tell me you were dating. I thought we were friends. Omi-Omi,” Atsumu whined out arms crossing over his chest. As you were looking at his arms/ respectfully/ you jumped in a teasing pout of your own.

“Yeah Omi-Omi. Not telling your friends about me. A shame”

“Not you too.”

—

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, Month 6

“You excited,” your question causes another wave of conversation between the men in the pre waiting area. Warmups were set to start in about 20 minutes. Shortly after you met Atsumu, he’d insisted you be introduced to the entire team. Afterall, other significant others got to hang out sometimes. Today was the day. Sakusa’s biggest match of his professional career yet. MSBY Black Jackals V Schweiden Adlers.

Receiving a mix of enthusiastic expletives, you turn towards your boyfriend who has yet to answer, prompting you to tease asking if he were nervous.

“No. We’re going to win,”

“That's the spirit Omi-Omi! Gonna beat Wakatoshi this time,” This time you bit back your laugh, smirking at the Miya twin’s jest. You loved getting able to take a break from being annoying. Sakusa, as per usual, noticed it. Getting up he motioned, that you follow him outside, ignoring the teases of getting a good luck kiss.

The minute you two rounded the corner of the hallway, a warm hand enveloped yours. Your confused look prompts your boyfriend to cage you against the corner of the wall. His unoccupied hand resting against the side of your head.”

“I am excited.” While his expression remained unchanged, The look in his eyes said it all. It was the same twinkle he showed that time you two made up after admitting your love. And the one present after revealing his commitment to MSBY to you. “And you are going to win,” your reiteration caused a soft smile to catch his face.

“Here's to you and your first major game Kiyoomi. And to many more because you're a star. Now go win.”

a/n: well this has been a roller coaster. I challenged myself to write 5k words, and 95% of this was written at like 3am bc thats when i go to sleep. I also did this to try and gain a feel for him so i can finish his part in good & the bad series. I really do be hoping this aint too ooc, bc while im caught up on the happenings of the manga from spoilers and twitter, i haven't actually gotten around to reading that far myself. also sorry for shitty formatting, ive never actually written a single body with this many words in a singular part ??? also i didnt edit this past google doc feature sooooo

anyways i did work hard and on this for the past week in between finals as a college junior so any comments and feedback are appreciated

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq imagines #sakusa x reader #haikyuu imagine #sakusa imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons

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how-disgr-ace-ful · 4 years ago

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Welcome back to lets hurt Bakugou

Episode No. idfk: Scars

(Disclaimer: this got way longer than I intended lol)

Bonjour, I have still not finished my French homework and I am very aware that this is me procrastinating but that’s not gonna stop me. Also I’ve run out of stuff to read for this hc so I’m resorting to writing something myself.

So, we all know the popular headcanon that Bakugou doesn’t scar, and we all recognise the angst potential for this.

(Quick note: idk what I’m talking about when it comes to science and all this information is stuff I’ve got from other people’s headcanons and fics, so this probably doesn’t make much sense.)

There are so many things that could have happened to Bakugou that nobody would even know about because there’d be no evidence of it happening. There’d be no proof of all the countless times he accidentally burnt himself with his quirk or all the times he fell as he tried to teach himself how to fly with his explosions.

Taking a darker route, how many times could he have beaten and bruised at home only for the dark marks to be gone by the time he went to school?* (Going off the assumption he heals faster too.) How long would it have taken his mother to calculate the point at which she could reach before the injuries wouldn’t heal fast enough?

Maybe, when Bakugou learnt that his home life wasn’t normal, he tried going to his teacher, but was accused of lying for attention once the teacher took one glance at his flawless skin.

Maybe his mum forced him into modelling for her in his teenager years, his skin so unusually clear for someone of his age.

It could be that before UA, he wasn’t bothered by his unblemished skin - he could handle his home life fine by himself; he wasn’t weak. But once he saw his classmates gaining marks - proof - of their hard work and improvement, he started paying more attention to the way his skin stayed blank. The others all had something to show for their efforts, but what did he have? Sure, he was getting better and improving, but was he even trying that hard?

He knew he had gotten some semi-serious injuries while training, but now that he thinks about it, were they even that bad? There was no lingering scars, so he must just be overreacting, right? Even if he can still feel the way his skin was sliced, torn and burnt, there’s no proof. He must just be making things up.

And then the sports festival happened. All he wanted was a fair fight, but instead he came to his senses chained up on a podium, his head spinning as he tried to make sense of what the fuck was going on. As he strained against the restraints, he could feel the sharp edges of the muzzle cutting into his cheeks, blood slowly trickling down his face.

Maybe he considered going to Aizawa or Recovery Girl, but he had no way of knowing if they were involved in the decision to chain a fucking child to a podium. Instead he just headed straight home, making a beeline for his room as he avoided all the creaky spots on the stairs. He already knew his skin on his cheeks would be back to looking “perfect” by the time he had to go to school, and in a moment of impulsivity, he took a selfie.

A couple of days later, when the wounds had completely, he looked at the picture of the bleeding, untreated gashes. It had happened. He hadn’t exaggerated or made it up. On a whim, he made a folder simply labelled “proof” and moved the picture to it. The next time he got an injury, he took a photo and added it to the folder. And the next time. And the next. Before he knew it, it was second nature.

Then the kidnapping happened. And Kamino. And suddenly he was spiralling again. Not only had he basically ended the Symbol of Peace, but All Might’s entire existence and appearance now seemed like a testament of his work, and Bakugou had the nerve to be this strong, to get this far without so much as a mark on skin?

Of course, the media ate the whole Kamino thing right up. Some talked about how strong and heroic All Might was, others shamed his true appearance, opening up a whole conversation about body image - and body image specifically surrounding scars.

Aizawa had never seen any of his kids students express any insecurities about the scars they gained from training and fighting and a variety of other things, but he supposed a lesson or workshop about body positivity couldn’t hurt. He’s positive that all his students have at least some scars, even if they had none before coming to UA, so he begins the lesson with asking them to write down how they got one of their scars. The intention is to then find something positive that came from the situation, but he quickly notices that Bakugou isn’t writing anything on the piece of paper on his desk. Aizawa just assumes that he doesn’t want to acknowledge weakness - that wouldn’t be out of character - so he calls on him.

“Bakugou, you’ve not written anything.”

“Wow, haven’t I? Thanks for pointing that out, teach, I hadn’t noticed.”

“Bakugou, you need to take part in the lesson.”

“No, I don’t think I do.”

“See me after class. We’ll deal with this later.”

After class, Aizawa tried to make Bakugou do the exercise again, thinking maybe he’d do it if the rest of the class wasn’t there. Spoiler alert: he wouldn’t. The kid just insisted he didn’t have any scars, something Aizawa knew couldn’t be true because of all the injuries he’s seen him gain.

“Kid, there’s nothing wrong with having scars.”

“How many times I gotta tell you? I don’t have any scars.”

Aizawa was about to go off on a spiel about how scars are a sign of strength and not weakness or whatever the internet had told him to say, when Bakugou let out a wordless sound of frustration and pulled his phone out. After a few seconds, he shoved it in Aizawa’s line of vision.

“See. This would have scarred if it was anyone else, but it didn’t because I don’t fucking scar.”

Aizawa looked at the phone screen and came face to face with a selfie of Bakugou, the boy’s cheeks adorned with two deep gashes, blood smeared across his face.

“Bakugou... when did this happen?”

Bakugou seemed to realise what he was showing his teacher and snatched the phone back.

“None of your fucking business.”

“Bakugou.”

“...”

“The sports festival.”

The sports festival...? Then... that was from the muzzle?

“Bakugou, how many times has this happened?”

“How many times has what happened?”

“You getting hurt and no one knowing.”

Bakugou didn’t reply, tapping on his phone screen a couple of times before handing it to his teacher. It was open on a folder labelled “proof”, the number of pictures in said folder being way too high for Aizawa’s comfort. How was he supposed to handle this situation? It wasn’t exactly common.

Why did he have to care about his kids students so much?

*This is not me saying that Mitsuki is abusive in canon. I don’t want to get involved in that discussion.

#bakugou headcanons #bakugou angst #put bakugou katsuki in therapy 2k20 #bakugou katsuki #BNHA Headcanons #bnha angst #idk how to resolve tension so i just kinda stopped writing #:/#dadzawa #i wanna write this properly but i cba

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cno-inbminor · 4 years ago

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wips that i’ve sat on for too long

it has been forever since i last posted anything, mainly because things have been extremely busy!! november is always such a shit month for school and i’ve procrastinated aka dug my own grave :) but here are a few snippets from wips, some that i may not ever finish but we’ll see ahahahaha

wip 1: sakusa wip 2: akaashi wip 3: semi (ipsum exitio) wip 4: mattsun

request for sakusa based on lover by taylor swift

he likes the world in his control, knowing that there are many elements to which he can manipulate to his liking. sakusa isn’t egotistical enough to call the universe predictable -- after all, your unexpected landing in his life took him by surprise. and two years later, he feels he’s finally beginning to understand the meaning of ‘we’ and ‘us’.

his world is no longer just his -- it’s both of yours now. and while it scared him the first year, there was a layer of trust underneath that soothed his worries. you had become synonymous with the things in his life that made him calm -- a warm bath, a fresh loofah, a lavender candle. it felt foreign to crave your presence next to him in his bed, or at any time throughout the day. he wanted to be by your side as much as possible, as if he had a sudden understanding of how time runs out. one day, he loses grasp of his tongue when you mention going to the grocery store, and blurts out, “can i go with you?”

there’s no doubt that shock has made itself known on your complexion. he can’t meet your eyes and stews in his embarrassment for having said something so seemingly out of character. but it only takes a few seconds for a small smile to grace your lips, the one that reminds him of just how lucky he is to be loved by you.

he’s already on his feet when you reply, “if you’d like to.”

request for pt. 2 of la la lost you ft. akaashi

more often than not, you haunt his dreams.

but perhaps he should rephrase. he welcomes your presence more than anything – more often than not, he enjoys waking up remembering that you’ve visited him in the dead of night. it allows him to forget that you’re no longer with him, or that he’s no longer trying to figure out when’s a good time to call and check up on you.

the pain disappears for a little bit, and then it settles neatly in the bottom of his heart, a tiny weight in his chest. no matter how much one of his coworkers drags him out and tries to set him up with someone, they’re never you. he’s always searching for your qualities in them and he feels terrible – they don’t deserve to be a rebound at all. and though you’re not on his lock screen (because he’s tired of the questions), you continue to occupy his home screen. all of your photos are stashed into a single folder, and he has to admit he opens it more than once a day.

it’s a slow healing process – he simply accepts that he’ll miss you for the rest of eternity, that he’ll never see your smile in front of the california sun again. you were never going to speak to him again besides perhaps birthdays and holidays, but they’d never be enough for him. the acceptance is solemn defeat, so you can only imagine the mixture of surprise, panic, and bewilderment when your custom ringtone blares throughout his office.

it isn’t a figment of his imagination to see your name on his screen, and before he loses his nerve and this rare opportunity to hear your voice again, he picks up, free hand slipping against some papers, and answers, “hello?”

“hey, keiji. how are you doing?”

ipsum exitio pt. 2 (pt. 1 here)

The hand by your waist suddenly grasped your chin between its thumb and index finger, preventing you from indulging in your previous thoughts. A quiet gasp escaped your lungs as you nearly shook. Your body thrummed with nerves and desperation, hoping that Eita would just give in to the selfish desires that were causing you to not think straight. “Eita, I—” you pleaded, unable to find the right words. The man responsible for everything you were feeling remained silent and appeared unfazed, though the tightening clasp of your chin said otherwise. “Please—”

“We’re going to leave this bed and do as we planned,” he interrupted, tone deep and commanding. You were now slave to his every whim, though you honestly couldn’t find any objections to that. “And if you’re good for me…” He trailed off, moving further down until his lips hovered right by your ear.

“I promise I’ll fill you up with my cock that you’re practically begging for. You can cum as much as you like, but I’ll have you begging for more.”

His words in combination with the faint kiss against the shell of your ear tore a whimper from your throat, wetness pooling embarrassingly in your panties as you drank in his dark vow. Your heart thrashed against your chest so loudly that you almost missed his teasing laugh – you always knew that you were somewhat submissive, but to the degree that you were feeling now? The burning determination to be nothing but the best for the man that could probably have you on your knees in a heartbeat if he simply suggested it?

As he removed himself from you – though your body ached for his presence again – and you let him pull your quivering figure out of bed, your questions were answered by the warmth that flooded your body as a result of his praise: “Good girl.”

spy!au ft. matsukawa (tw: blood and violence mentions, implied character death)

“you think with all that time spent in the gym on your arms, they’d be useful right about now,” you whisper fondly.

“shut up,” issei grits out between his teeth. his muscles are screaming from overuse, but god help him if this is the last thing he’ll do.

the two of you are battered and much the worse for wear, sporting matching soot marks and body developing new bruises. dried, caked blood marks the side of issei’s face and though his gloves are still intact, yours had been discarded and misplaced, probably burnt to a crisp at this point. the friction of cloth against your scuffed palms causes you to wince. but there’s nothing you can do now, hanging over a cliff with nothing but issei’s grip to suspend you.

it’s a battle that was won for the agency, but he feels nothing akin to victory in this moment. regret washes over him instead -- why didn’t he just let that guy go, why did he feel the need to sock him in the face with everything he had, when he could’ve preserved that strength to lift you up now?

“makki’s coming, just hang in there, okay?” he bites out. a grimace forms because his shoulder is giving out, and your palm is starting to get sweaty. issei swivels his head over his shoulder and looks for any signs of agency help, but the sound of incoming motors are too far away. there’s not enough time--

“you need to let me go,” you advise, looking down beneath you. the river is a far ways away, you can barely make it out from here. and that only means one thing.

“(y/n), shut the fuck up--”

��look at me, issei. look at me.”

he meets your eyes and immediately detests the look of defeat in them. they’re beginning to gloss over and absolutely contradict the upward curves of your lips. this is everything he was afraid of -- all that time, all that trust, building a connection with you amidst the chaos, and for what? for it all to end in some storm of ice and fire and you into a rushing stream?

“it’s okay,” you comfort, but the tears down your face say it’s the complete opposite of okay. your hand is slipping and you can see how torn issei is, absolutely desperate to use every last second possible. help won’t come in time.

but you can’t leave him like this, not when you haven’t had the chance to say the three words you’ve always wanted to tell him. there had never been a good time to, not even in the nights with his body over yours atop the sheets and thrown into pleasure and escapism. perhaps it’s selfish on your end to part with those words. issei knowns you well enough at this point, and just by looking at your expression again, he knows it’s coming. this was the last way he wanted to hear them.

“don’t you fucking dare, (y/n). don’t you--”

there are promptly 2.8 seconds left as the contact is reduced to nothing but hanging by the fingertips. he hears nothing but your voice and his heartbeat. this is it.

“i love you.”

and his arm feels weightless.

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa x reader #akaashi x reader #semi x reader #matsukawa x reader #haikyuu angst #sakusa #akaashi #semi eita #matsukawa

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 4 years ago

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WIP Whenever

I know I got tagged in this ages ago by @captainsaku and a few others, but I didn't really have anything in the works enough to share. Then I was going through my WIP folder last night and found this first attempt I made at something winter-y before Forward, Then happened, and I figured it deserved a little spotlight before it went to rest in my Darlings doc. SO HERE, take a WIP that won't be finished, but worked well all the same.

I tag @rufinagertrude , @bladeverbena , @thefluffynug , @thereluctantinquisitor and anyone else who’s feeling up to it! (I’m procrastinating going to work to type this so seriously, if I didn’t tag you and you wanna do it, just do it and say I did!)

----

Alex heard the boots approaching, saw the wide shadow pass over her lantern light, and knew what was coming before the words ever left Tahir’s mouth.

“You can’t patch that thing again, lad.”

“I’m not in much of a state to have a choice,” she muttered around the needle clenched between her teeth. “The chest has been empty for months, even if I wasn’t putting every advance I had towards my debts. It’s just this seam under the arm, is all -”

“It’s been that seam the last two times you’ve set about it,” Tahir said, folding his arms over his chest. Alex just shrugged. The irritation of having to patch her increasingly threadbare coat every week or so was worth having it at all. Even now, she could feel the bite of a chill on her arms, and that was in still air, in a calm harbor, with the deck steady beneath her feet. In the lash of wind and water, cold like that would kill her - or at least make her very sorry that it hadn’t.

Tahir grumbled something under his breath about being too reasonable for once, but otherwise didn’t argue. He took a position against the bulkhead instead, leaning back against it and watching her through the flickering half-dark cast off by the lantern. Alex raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you were headed ashore.”

“I am,” Tahir said, without moving. “Just trying to decide whether you’re coming along or not.”

Alex scoffed and plucked the needle from between her teeth. “I’m a bit busy, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Aye. That’s what I was deciding.”

Alex frowned and looked up to ask what that could possibly mean just as Tahir seemed to come to some kind of agreement with himself. He kicked off of the bulkhead wall and circled around her, back towards the darkened corridor of the companionway and out of sight. She watched him go, frowning.

He appeared again a few minutes later, armed with something dark and misshapen that he tossed at her on his way back to his spot at the bulkhead.

“A few weeks early,” he said as she fumbled to catch it, “but I can’t sit here and watch you put any more sailcloth into that ragged peasant number. That you haven’t stuck your fingers full of holes yet is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Maybe because no one has thought to throw something at me while I’ve been at my mending," she muttered, but dutifully tucked her needle into the edge of her half-finished patch and turned her attention to the bundle in her hands. It was about the span of her lap, soft and formless and wrapped in a loose packet of sackcloth that had clearly seen better days. In the wavering lantern light, she could just make out a water stain on one corner, the hallmark of a long stay in a ship’s hold.

“What is it?” she asked after a moment. Tahir leaned forward and hummed.

“Burlap, I think.” She fixed him with a scowl that, infuriatingly, only made him laugh. “Well, it wouldn’t have been wrapped up if you were meant to know! Just open it, lad. You’re smart enough that you can manage that without my direction, I think.”

That nearly warranted the entire thing to be thrown back at him, but Alex had been fighting all the little urges of a temperamental street rat for a few months now, and the work was finally starting to take. She pulled her reaction down to a roll of her eyes instead, then grabbed the edge of the package and shook the contents of it into her lap. A swath of heavy fabric tumbled out. In the shadows of the lower decks, it should have been impossible to tell exactly what it was, except that she spent the last hour bent painfully over the same silhouette, the same rigid seams, the same long, trailing line of a sleeve dangling down past her ankle...

Wide-eyed, Alex reached down and lifted a brand new coat into the light.

It was a simple number, all things considered: made of a coarse dark blue linen and lined heavily against the cold, with finishings of dull metal buttons that already looked to be on their way to tarnishing. It was deeply wrinkled from the stay in its packing, functional before it could even remotely be called handsome, unwashed and untailored and undecorated to the point of obscurity.

It was the finest thing that Alex had put her hands on in the better part of five years.

“It was meant for Twelfth Night,” Tahir said from somewhere behind her. Even without looking, she could hear his grin. “And I suppose I was meant to wait until Sam and Bryce were here too. They helped tend the price, after all. Seemed to think it was worth not being kept up through the night by your shivering, but I’m sure they wanted to say so themselves.”

#my writing #wip wednesday #o fuck it's actually wednesday SCORE #seven cities #original fiction #oc crap #alex sheffield #tahir #i didn't read this over at all so there's probably so many mistakes but FUCK IT #THAT'S WHAT WIP WEDNESDAY IS ABOUT BABY

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kurooskitten · 5 years ago

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All Eyes on Me. [Kuroo Tetsurou]

A/N: i got inspiration for this while finishing my biochem hw packet 😗 and like, kuroo’s canonically really good at biochemistry so it works out

Summary: Kuroo sees you need a little more encouragement to get your work done.

18+ content ahead!

“Stressed” was an understatement.

You felt like you were being completely and utterly destroyed by your classes at the moment, and the fact that you had procrastinated so much on your biochemistry homework packet and didn’t pay much attention in class didn’t help either.

You had answered everything that you could with your note packet you had gotten in class, but as for anything the packet didn’t mention? You were stumped. Swamped.

As a last resort, you called your boyfriend.

“Yoww!” The greeting that could’ve usually made you giggle elicited no reaction from you.

“Hey, Kuroo? Can you come over?”

You hear shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Uhhh, practice just finished up. I can head over after everything’s taken care of back here if you’d like.”

You sighed in relief. “Please. I really need your help with this damned biochem homework.”

He chuckled. You were positive he was grinning on the other end. “Oh? Is my Kitten having trouble in class?”

You groan, sliding your hand down your face. “Oh, put a lid on it. I have other classes I’ve been worrying about, you know. Not everybody just ‘gets it’ like you do.”

“I’m only teasing you.” You hear more shuffling and a sigh escape from his lips. “Alright, you big baby, I’m on my way. Don’t give up till I get there, alright? I’m not doing the whole thing for you.”

“I know, I know. Just— hurry up, okay?”

He chuckled. “Alright. See you in a few. I love you.”

“I love you, too. See you soon.”

With that, the call came to an end, with you resting your head on your arms; a sound of distress escaping from your lips.

“Oh my goddddddd!”

——

If you were being completely honest, by the time the door bell rang, you’d only gotten about 5 more questions done.

‘It’s been half an hour and I barely scratched the surface!’ You groaned internally and dragged yourself to the door, looking up exasperatedly at your amber-eyed boyfriend.

“Who pissed in your cheerios?”

“The fucking science teacher.”

He let out a hardy laugh at your retort as he followed behind you back to where you set up shop in your living room; your textbook opened with others stacked beside it, your folder, an open notebook with a pen on it, highlighters, and the thick, 5 page packet you were currently working out of.

“At least you’re organized.”

You scoff and sat down next to the coffee table where you were seated, Kuroo sitting next to you and taking out his own supplies.

The tomcat was a lot more organized than people would give him credit for. His handwriting was neat and pleasing to the eye, his books were color coded, and he never forgot a single material needed to complete his work that night. His set up was much more minimalistic than yours, but contained the essentials nonetheless.

“I will never be able to get over how nice your handwriting is, Tetsu.”

He chuckled, grinning at you. “Stop gawking and get to work, you fiend.”

You huffed and turned to your packet, but couldn’t find the motivation or will to even pick the damn thing up. You could feel Kuroo's eyes flicker from the packet to your face multiple times before he sighed and shifted where he sat.

"You're gonna need some motivation, aren't you Kitten?"

You felt your cheeks heat up at the pet name he gave you, setting your face in your hands in an attempt to cool off your warming face. "I have no motivation to work right now, Tetsurou."

In response, he grinned. "How about we play a game, hm?"

You raise an eyebrow.

Kuroo says nothing, but instead pulls you to sit between his legs where his arms quickly found themselves around your waist and his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a little squeak as his breath tickled the shell of your ear when he spoke.

“For every question you answer, I’ll reward you.”

One of his hands leaves the clasp of his other that sat at your waist to slip underneath your t-shirt and rub the skin that it hid. You felt yourself swallow a lump that was forming in your throat. “And if I get it wrong?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll go through and correct them later. For now, all that matters is that you start writing, Kitten.”

You nod shakily and inhale deeply to calm your nerves before sliding your packet over and grabbing your pen.

“What are the four types of organic compounds?”

‘Oh,’ you thought. ‘This is easy!’

As you wrote down your answer you couldn’t help but think of how much Kuroo’s presence (and his proposition) both motivated and calmed your nerves. ‘Boom. Carbohydrates, lipids, nucleus acids, and proteins.’

“Nicely done, Kitten.”

You feel the hand that had slipped underneath the edge of your top slide higher up, tracing where the underwire of your bra met your skin. The lips that were hovering above your ear began placing soft kisses in a trail all the way from behind it to the dip in your shoulder.

You felt yourself instinctively fall back into his touch, your head rolling to the side to give him more room to work, but he just chuckled against your skin and went to whisper in your ear again.

“Nuh-uh-uh, Kitten. You have to work.”

You let out a frustrated huff (which was borderline a whine) and attempt to collect yourself. ‘Okay,’ you thought. ‘’Explain the differences between a monosaccharide, disaccharide, and polysaccharide sugar.’’

You smiled slightly. You’ve seen all this material before. This was more review than anything. Why were you so stressed before?

You wrote down your answer.

‘Monosaccharides all have the formula C12H22O6 and a single ring structure. Disaccharides are double sugars with the formula C12H22O11. Polysaccharides are formed out of three or more simple sugar units.’

You feel yourself smile once again, however, it’s short lived as your boyfriend hums against your neck and begins groping your breast through the fabric of your bra. The hand that held you still in his lap abandoned its idle state to pop open the buttons of your jeans.

“Hahh ..”

“Get back to work, Kitten.”

You muster the best nod you can, and read the next quest from behind lidded eyes. “Explain two factors that can denature enzymes.”

You try to open your eyes wider so you don’t mess up writing. ‘Extreme pH values and extremely high temperatures.’

Kuroo doesn’t make a noise of approval this time, but instead slips his hand into your panties, rubbing circles onto your clit.

You find yourself gripping at his arm for support (even though you’re sitting down, laying against his built figure), as if letting go meant certain death.

His other hand busies itself with undoing your bra clasp, sliding the cups underneath your breasts and pinching your nipples.

“Oh my god—“

He licks a long stripe from the juncture of your neck to the middle of your ear, biting down on the cartilage.

“One more, babygirl. All I want is one more.”

You could feel your face flush an even deeper shade of red at his words and the feeling of his own arousal pressing against your back. You struggled to form your next words.

“I— I can’t, fuck-“

The sound he lets out at your whine is scarily similar to that of a cat purring. ��I know you can. C’mon. One. More.”

As some extra encouragement, he speeds up his fingers on your clit, adding an extra to slide down and push at your entrance ever-so-slightly.

You inhale shakily, and grip your pen with a deathly tight grip, hoping it will keep you from dropping it mid-sentence. You knew Kuroo would stop if you didn’t give him one more answer, and you wouldn’t let that happen.

You could barely make out the question on the paper. “List the major functions of proteins in the body.”

‘Easy enough,’ you thought to yourself, your very own thoughts barely coherent as your mind fogged up with pleasure like a mirror in a bathroom when the shower was running.

‘Growth, repair, energy formation, and to act as a buffer to help keep the body’s pH constant.’

You felt Kuroo grin against your neck one more as he muttered a good job and pushed the lingering finger into you, slowly pumping itself in and out of your body. You whine quietly at the feeling, knowing that last question you answered was your ticket to bliss.

“Take off your shirt for me, baby.”

You sit up slightly, trying not to dislodge the finger inside of you and shed your shirt; tossing it haphazardly to some forgotten corner of the room. Your bra soon follows, sliding the straps off your shoulders to bare your chest to your lover.

He gently gropes your mounds before sliding that calloused hand up your chest to grip your jaw softly, turning your face to his. He stares into your eyes for a moment, those amber eyes now molten pools of gold— both glazed and brimming with lust and desire.

He lowers his face to yours, kissing your lips hungrily as his ministrations on both your breasts and clit become quicker. The finger inside your walls becomes more accurate, and you can’t help but spreading your legs more in a way to let your boyfriend reach further inside of you.

All of your cries and moans were swallowed eagerly by the raven haired tomcat of a boy who was intent on kissing and biting your lips swollen and raw. He neglected his own erection to reward you for you hard work— your own satisfaction more important than his own.

A second finger was added, stretching you out deliciously as you clenched around it in earnest. You pulled away from Kuroo to let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and he just grinned that cheshire grin of his before taking to your neck to leave a large hickey where no one would be able to see but you and him.

Your pants grew labored and your moans increased in volume as Kuroo carried you towards release, shutting your eyes and letting the tingly sensation of the build up envelope your body.

Kuroo pulled away from your neck to growl into your ear huskily.

“Go on, cum for me, Kitten. Cum on my hand. I know you want, too. You deserve it.”

You found yourself gripping his arm a little tighter this time around, your nails digging crescent moons into his bicep as you bit your puffy and red lips to try to stifle the noise, the effort ultimately failing as your jaw dropped open to let the noise of pleasure out from the depths of your throat.

“Look at me, Kitten. Let me see your face.”

You turned your head best you could as your eyes fluttered shut, although you were able to catch the predatory look that lingered in his eyes. You heard Kuroo groan as you spasmed around his fingers— your moan catching in your throat and turning into a broken whine. He never let up in the motion of his hand while you came, determined to help you ride out your high to the fullest.

When you finally stopped squirming in his grasp, he pulled his fingers out from your panties and removed his hand from your swollen breasts. You opened your eyes to meet your boyfriend’s who quickly slipped the digits still covered in your slick into his mouth, keeping eye contact all the while. You felt yourself involuntarily whining at the sight and he just chuckled.

“Now, how about we get you cleaned up and then finish this packet, yeah? I think you’re motivated enough now.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. God, did you love this man.

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #not sfw #writing

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funkymbtifiction · 5 years ago

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Hi guys! I I'm an ENXP and I was looking for some advice about knowing myself better. I saw the mods are ENPs and maybe you guys could help me. I recently noticed a pattern regarding my own actions that is basically ruining my life. I seem to rely too much on my Ne, specially about my future and my career. I'm ruled by a need of pursuing anything that catches my attention in a determined moment. I obsess over it for a while and then move on. I've changed my major 4 times now. Every activity I do is temporary. And if I don't find something I can obsess over I get depressed and bored. Anyways, I think this has led me to not trust myself anymore, since I can't commit to anything because I lose interest in everything and I'm always looking for new possibilities. I have reached a point where I can't allow myself to pursue everything I want and I have to make decisions and commit. But I'm too scared to become trapped and take responsibility for my own decisions. I think this would be easier if I knew myself better, but I don't think I know who I am besides my own random interests, which is weird I guess. How can I develop my own Fi? Or Ti? How do you guys deal with your dominant Ne? How do you commit to things? I'm 23 by the way. Shouldn't I have developed some Fi or Ti or something by now? I turned to mbti because I wanted to gain a better understanding of myself but holy shit this is hard. I could only recognize my dominant Ne. All this self analysis seems useless if I don't really know myself, I realized I'm not self aware at all. So anyways, as fellows Ne doms how did you guys developed your auxiliary functions? Any advice will be amazing! Thank you guys for everything you do here!

The first thing you need to do is recognize is you are an Enneagram 7 and all of this is ‘normal’ for them in lower health levels. To overcome this, you have to ‘grow up’ as a 7 and stop allowing fear of commitment or quick loss of focus from dominating your life. You have control over yourself, you are not utterly helpless to your whims (said the Fi user who has a moral tone of ‘you make your own choices and messes and you have to get out of them’ ;).

7s have to learn to be open to the scary idea of commitment to reap the dividends of hard work.

Read the 7 profile and see how allowing yourself to ‘run away’ from commitment (which includes not finishing or devoting yourself to any project) can hinder your life. Once you recognize WHAT you are doing, and WHY you are doing it, you can develop the power to STOP YOURSELF from doing it, or from allowing ‘excuses’ or fear to run you away from good things.

ENTP Mod. : Charity is right. Here is also where the judging functions come into play. With Fi, you can eventually weed out that which you aren't personally passionate about/ those goals which don't align with your personal values. With Ti, you can see a chain reaction of the patterns in your life, and determine the most effective path to help yourself using logic to streamline your processes, make it more elegant.

Slow the hell down. Force yourself to stop running toward the future and live right now. Repeat the mantra of ‘right now is all that matters today’ a 100 times an hour if you have to. Be present. Be invested. Bring yourself into ‘now.’

My co-mod is a 7w6 ENTP who suffers from a lot of the same issues; I will nudge her to offer her two cents to this post, in regards as to what she is currently doing about it. Basically, she had to talk herself into getting a permanent job rather than talking herself out of it. Once she got into it, she realized it didn’t suck as much as she feared. Her brain is her own worst enemy.

I had to talk myself into this job. I gave myself lots of reasons why I would love it. It might sound a little unrealistic going in with pre set expectations but at least you will not go in blind. Making a pros cons list is always a good idea. It helps to sift through your multiple ideas, and narrow down the ones which can really work. Test out the feasibility of your ideas, opportunities before hand. Talk to people, do your research. Just remember that things will never be as bad or boring as you think them to be. This is a cliche but something which helps me in the mornings when I know I have boring work to do is "Get up, dress up, show up. Never give up." Also it helps to live from day to day. Don't worry too far into the future, you never know what variables might upset your plans.

Work-wise, a 7 needs to travel, get the ‘high’ of meeting new people, and not to be involved in sheer detail-driven grunt work. They need challenges to work toward and obstacles to overcome. Pick a career that offers you all of that. If you do not, you will have a string of 6 months at ___ jobs that do not look good on your resume. Find a career in something that you feel passionate about, that offers some kind of mental stimulation.

ENTP 7 co-mod is an attorney who loves to find ways to ‘get around things’ in the law.

ENTP Mod. note: Always try to remember the root of your passion when you feel like defecting from one option to another. If you must leave, leverage what you have learned in one place and how you can dress that up to make your hopping about look good. That's what I did, and it worked for me. Some of the reasons I love my job are the constant intellectual stimulation, creative aspects of it, my love for criminology pays off, meeting interesting people. Sure there are sucky days when you have to deal with the bureaucratic demons. But that won't be every day. Unless your role requires you to do something like it. In which case I would suggest that you avoid picking up detail heavy, low Si or adherence related work which will make you feel miserable and frustrated. Try to pick something that plays to your strengths, improve your weaknesses. Compete with nobody but yourself. Every day you are better than you were, yesterday. Even with a little effort. It is important to not give up. It is so hard for 7s but we have the gift of rationalizing. So instead of using it as a mechanism to justify dropping things, use it to tell yourself why you should stick around. You as a 7 can make most things fun. So find little tricks and ways to make the work day fun. Whether it is achieving small, impactful targets or making games out of small, low stakes things. Also, having money and being able to live nicely is fun. Nobody is gonna pay you if they think that their money will be wasted on training you if your pattern is just leaving jobs. It took me a long time to develop this perspective but I am glad I did.

I (ENFP 6w5 sp/so) chose a career in magazine editing, because it gives me time to do what I actually love, which is write novels. I’m afraid I can’t give you advice from my own life that would work for you, because a 6w5 sp/so is far more focused and driven to finish their projects than a 7w6, which means I push through ‘the boring, tedious bits’ of projects regardless of how ‘excited’ I am. It’s not fun to edit a book 7 times, but I still do it. I force myself to show up to work, to sit there for 3 or 4 hours, and commit to X amount of words, pages, etc.

Do you think it’s “fun” for me always to keep this queue stocked, or to type up characters at the end of a long day because the queue is low? Or go back and update old profiles and move them from this blog onto wordpress? No. I hate it sometimes. It’s boring as hell. But I committed to it, I will see it through, even though looking into my “to update” folder makes me want to scream. I tackle huge projects one step at a time. I’m disciplined but I can procrastinate at work, rather than doing whatever needs doing.

Which really is the bottom line. You want to finish things? Just do them. Force yourself to show up and do the work, even if it’s “boring.” Most of life isn’t fun. Paying the bills isn’t fun. You do boring stuff to make a living, so you can have the money to do fun things. If you do not learn to do it, whether or not it is fun, you will wind up ‘stuck at home this month, because I have no money.’

That frustrates a 7 even more than being bored at work.

Accept that your fear of commitment is a fear-driven lie.

You are not going to get trapped by committing to something or someone. Head types massively over-think things and allow fear – in the 7’s case of “missing out” on better things – to dominate their life. Admit it’s fear. Admit that allowing fear to ruin your entire life is stupid. Then do something against the fear. Do the thing fear tells you not to: commit and work at it. Fight the urge every day to leave. Stick it out, and prove you ‘can’ to yourself.

Middle functions. You’re in college so you should be seeing either some Ti analyzing or Te “buckle down and set goals and get this schoolwork finished by the deadline” kicking in. Are you more inclined to self-doubt and beat yourself up like a young FiTe user after ‘failing’ to organize your time efficiently or to make excuses and blame external circumstances like a young TiFe user?

My Fi has always been strongly evident, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. Things that set off a NOPE response in me vs. the ‘rest of everything, which I don’t care about.’ The intense sensitivity as a child. The compassion for other people and especially for small animals. The understanding of emotional dynamics and how people ‘feel.’ The constant angst between caring too much about people’s feelings and being low Te blunt or rude when I’m having an off day. The ‘going away from everyone’ to deal with my feelings in private. I have always fiercely, Fi-ishly known what I like and do not like, and have no ability to ‘tolerate’ things that I do not like. Once, I didn’t like half the people seated at my table at a public event, so I shut down completely and did not say a word to anyone at the table for two hours. My Fe friend also hated them, but smiled and charmed them all. Lucky girl. She can fake her feelings. I can’t.

- ENFP Mod

#enneagram #enneagram 7 #enfp #entp #mbti #7w6 #entp mod

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strongsassysexysloane · 5 years ago

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Take me for a Ride, Jack.. 3

Helloooo :) Loving all the love for this story, keep it coming :) Inspires me to write more. Also procrastination with my assignments is helping that as well.

. . . .

Unfortunately Gibbs and McGee's guy isn't the murderer and you hope Ellie and Nick's suspect pans out but that's a bust as well. You are all back in the bullpen in the late afternoon when Jack walks in with a few portfolios of people that may be promising. She hands everyone except Gibbs a folder each and you all set to work on digging up anything that might lead to a motive for murder.

While you are all busy searching Gibbs phone rings. "On my way doc." Gibbs flips his phone shut and exits going down to autopsy.

The clock soon hits 1800 and you all decide to continue the search tomorrow, finding no leads from the people Jack found. You walk out of the building with McGee and Ellie.

"Really sucks when there's nothing to go on." Ellie grumbles, swaying her hands back and forth beside her.

"Tell me about it." McGee veers to the left, walking up to his car. "Although Delilah will be happy I'm coming home at a reasonable hour." He waves goodbye to you both. "See you in the morning."

"Bye Tim." You and Ellie say in unison.

Your gaze shifts to the empty spot where Jack's bike was this morning.

"She left an hour ago." Ellie, of course, had to see and comment but there was no teasing to her tone this time.

"Yeah, I sa-" You stop but there's no point so you continue. "She flirted with me in the office after you and Nick left." You needed to vocalise it with someone, like if you said it out loud then it must’ve happened. Your brain had been distracted all day, no amount of coffee could keep you from over thinking all the words and touches you shared with Jack. Hopefully telling Ellie wouldn't back fire, you hoped it would just stay between you two however she was getting rather close to Nick of late.

"Yeah? Want to tell me how?" She grinned, obviously happy to hear about it, she reminded you of your sister in so many ways. Always happy to talk about someone elses love life.

You stop by your car, leaning against the back door while Ellie leans against the trunk facing you. You recount the scene like you're telling her about a crime scene in your desk area and Ellie squeals.

"What about when Nick and I left you alone with Jack, here this morning?" She rubs her hands together, trying to keep warm.

You try and shrug the question off but you can hide the big smile that spreads across your face. "I really would suck at poker."

"Don't verse Jack or Gibbs then. Fornell always complains whenever we see him about how he gets schooled every dam time." She laughs. "So what happened?"

You sway your head from side to side with the big smile and you see Ellie move back and forth on her toes waiting for your reply.

"Come, on before I freeze to death." She whines, cupping her hands and blowing hot air into them. You start to feel the chill through your thick coat, clearly you were the smarter person when choosing your work clothes this morning.

"You hungry?" You never have to ask Ellie if she's hungry because she always is but you ask anyway.

"Of course. Chinese place down the road, on the corner?" Ellie was too eager for food and to get out of the cold night.

You nod and watch Ellie move around to her car which is two cars down from yours. You both drive down the street and park.

Thankfully the meal is brought out fast because the mention and then the smell of food has you salivating. Lunch was over six hours ago and you can't recall having anything to eat since, coffee was definitely not a good substitute for food as much as Gibbs thinks so. Ellie on the other hand had a snack around 1700, you know the exact time because Nick kept mentioning it every time she pulled out a new snack much to everyone annoyance. Ellie only commented it was to keep her juices flowing to help her find a lead. It didn't, it never usually did, it was just her excuse to get Nick to shut up which didn't work either.

"So you gonna ask to ride her bike?" She asks after you tell her about what happened this morning, blushing and all. You also mention a few other moments you and Jack had over the past few weeks in observation and her office.

"That a way of you asking if I'm going to ask her out?" You take another bite of your food, using it as a excuse not to say anything more.

"Kind of. It's a good way to lead to that. She clearly likes you. Probably waiting for you to make the first move." She shrugs, taking a sip of her soda. You can tell she's trying to play it cool. Ellie has mentioned a few friends of hers you might like, asked you to join her yoga class a few times.

"Always thought she'd be the one to make the move." Again with the thoughts slipping out of your mouth today. You go a slight pink tinge again and take a quick sip of water.

Ellie gulps down her drink and smiles. "I mean, not that I've thought about it, but yeah she does seem like the asker."

You nod and take another bite of your dinner. You'd be lying if you hadn't pictured, wondered what it would be like to date Jack, dreamt it a few times. Well more than date but the thought of actually going through with it, asking her out. That terrified you and clearly that showed on your face.

"She's flirted with you, teased. I doubt you'll get a no. Plus I haven't seen her this flirtatious since..." She trails off and looks slightly embarrassed and turns her attention back to her dinner. You, of course, know instantly how that sentence was going to end.

"Gibbs, right?" You saw their connection, they clearly had a personal relationship other than a work one.

"Yeah." Ellie breathes and puts her fork down. "It was a thing for a while. You had to really know them to see it but something was there and then one day it wasn't anymore. They are still friends, there was a lot more obvious flirting and" She paused, clearly thinking of the right way to continue. "touching. She use to get up in his personal space once in a while, I assume it happened more when we weren't around, seemed to calm him down on occasion but I haven't seen that since..." She had to think for a moment. "Well actually, a few weeks after you joined the team, if I'm being honest." She went back to eating, letting you take the new information in.

It was true, in amongst your first weeks on team Gibbs you had noticed that Jack was a lot closer to Gibbs than the rest of his team which surprised you at first because you knew McGee was his oldest team member. That thought dwindled away though once the cases started to fly in and any personal thought left because your brain couldn't mess this new job up.

"Think they had a thing?" The thought had crossed your mind, how messy it might get if something had happened between them, he was your boss. They did seem fine at work. They, however are also great liars, investigators and Gibbs never brought his personal life to work so who knows what happens once the case is closed and they go home.

"Had, maybe. I tried my best not to think about it too much. We teased Jack plenty about it though." She smiled, remembering one of the moments but the smile dropped when she saw your concern. "Just ask her out, if she says no then I guess you work that out but I bet your $100 she wont."

You laugh at her bet. It was high, the most she ever put in on bets to guess how long a suspect would crack under Gibbs interrogations was only $20. "I'll think about it." The conversation shifted from there, back to casual chit chat amongst friends.

You both finish your dinner, eating everything on your plates. The hunger finally filled and you split the bill. "Great idea." Ellie says opening the door and you follow her out.

"Chinese food is always a good idea." You both smile and walk to your cars parked around the corner a bit. "It was good to chat to someone about it."

"Well whenever you need to talk about it or tell me how the date goes, I'm all ears." Ellie gives you a comforting smile as she opens her car door. "Promise i won't tell Nick." You smile at that, thankful for her discretion.

"Thanks Ell. Night." You slid into your car, shutting the door on her goodbye as the wind gives you the chills. Now you're alone with your thoughts and the panic begins to build again. You decide to blast the tunes on your way home, distracting you slightly from what you're going to do next.

You get home to find the lights off, your sister left a note on the counter saying she's gone to bed and hopes you had a good day. You check her schedule on the fridge and see she has tomorrow off. Hoping she will be up before you leave for work in the morning, you don't leave a reply on the note and head straight to bed. Your dreams tempt you with possible outcomes and scenarios of asking Jack out on a date and going on said date. Some end wonderfully, others not so much.

You snap awake to the ding alert of your phone receiving a text message and you groan. The sun is barely lighting your room which means it's not yet time to wake up. You blindly search for your phone on the bedside table and it flashes blinding light as you bring it close to your face.

'Sorry if I woke you. Thought you liked my bike so much that I could pick you up and we could go to breakfast before work?' You heart almost jumps out of your chest after the few moments it takes your brain to register that it's Jack that sent you the invitation. So, she really is the asker. You tell your brain to shut up, it's not a date..right? This is all happening way too early for your brain to comprehend.

You take a deep breath. You groan, noticing the time is just after 0500. You didn't need to be at work for another three hours, you didn't need to be up for another one and a half. But the groan is nulled when another ding comes in.

'That's if you want to, of course.' You laughed picturing a nervous Jack. It was tempting to make her squirm a little more but you couldn't say no to this offer. You could hear Nick's teasing in your head and you sit up in your bed, propped up by your pillows behind you. Clearly she could change your mind about being the passenger.

'I think you owe me breakfast after waking me so early on a work day.' You hesitate for a second before pressing send. The reply is almost instantaneous.

'That a yes?' You smile giddily down at your phone, running a hand through your bed messed hair you think of something cheeky to reply.

'Sleek, sexy and yesss.' You blush thinking it may be too much for this hour of the day but hit send anyway.

Jack sends back a laughing emoji and a rosey cheeked smile. Not long after another ding comes through. 'Meet you out front in 45 minutes. Don't worry, I have a second helmet.'

. . . .

How we liking the build up and tease? I love writing the tease.. if it isnt obvious.

#jack sloane x reader #jack sloane #fanfic #tease

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mossnotes · 5 years ago

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some study tips:

- (once your work is done) if you feel sleepy, go to sleep. multiple times this week i’ve gone to bed just gone 8pm because i was sleepy and y’know what? why SHOULDN’T i go to bed super early and sleep like a hibernating squirrel? (a warning with this, ensure your sleeping schedule is healthy. don’t oversleep by doing this all the time, and if you do go to bed early you should be waking relatively early too. oversleeping can be just as bad for your wellbeing as not sleeping.)

- get to know yourself. are you just a bit tired from a long school day, or do you actually need to stop and rest to reset? often you hear, “if you’re tired, push through and do it anyway.” yes. good. but recognise when the tiredness is more than just tiredness, and you really do need to recover. at the same time, don’t stop everything to rest. learn also to recognise when your brain is trying to be a little fucker and get out of doing work, and then to push the sleepiness aside and crack on with what you need to do.

- keep your folders organised. have a folder for each subject/teacher/exam paper, as well as a day folder in which you’ll keep all of your current work for all of your subjects. when you finish a topic, that work can go into the subject folder at home.

- stay on top of your notes! if you have a free, spend it rewriting or making revision resources. rewriting my notes once after class helps me to memorise and to condense a little so it’s easier to find information when i refer back to it later in the year. if that doesn’t help you, move on to making mindmaps/flashcards/whatever revision resource helps you. make sure you have detailed study material for EVERY TOPIC.

- raise your hand in class. trust me. contribute, ask questions, answer questions. i’m an INTROVERT introvert, but recently i’ve started challenging myself to do it more and kick anxiety in the butt and if i can do it, so can you! i believe in you!

- use the cornell method for note taking. you’ve all heard of it, and it was always a type of note taking that didn’t appeal to me (regrettably it’s quite simply because i thought it looked ugly and i preferred spending hours making pretty notes,, oh, year eleven me was so naive,,) but during my sixth form induction we had an activity with these external speakers and they had us make cornell notes about a random piece of information they gave us, then to “blurt” everything we could remember. i got almost everything down perfectly. cornell method is brilliant.

- use your goddamn frees.

- give yourself plenty of time in the morning. if i start my day rushing, it ruins the mood for the rest of the day. i now take an hour and fifteen minutes to get ready, and that first hour is purely so i can wake up a little slower and have breakfast in bed while catching up on youtube/netflix. then i get ready normally and i’m out of the door. it seems a little odd that i’m sacrificing time i could be spending sleeping, but it doesn’t impact me because i’m still getting my 7/8 hours and i feel so, so relaxed in the morning. and why not treat yourself to breakfast in bed if you can?!

- do the assigned reading. please. i thought i’d be able to get through nine of the books in the iliad in one weekend, and i procrastinated it all away. don’t say “i’ll read xyz this weekend”. no you won’t. read some now. help out your future self.

- treat every piece of homework like it’s important. of course, sometimes things get busy and you hand in a half-arsed piece of work and yes, that’s better than nothing, but putting 100% effort into all of your work when you can will really help you, and make a good impression on your teachers.

- befriend your teachers! if you’re respectful and friendly with them, they’ll be respectful and friendly to you in return. a good relationship with your teacher can change your whole academic experience. be on good terms, and aim to please them. (for example, i have an absolute cinnamon bun of a classics teacher and i physically cannot allow myself to disappoint him. i can’t do it. if i can’t do it for me, i do it for him.)

- try to enjoy yourself! school can be stressful, but try to find little things to look forward to. i’m guilty of romanticising life (and that’s totally okay!). look at dark/light academia on tumblr and draw some inspiration and feel that urge to study and be academic. it’s incredible. a little bit of fantasy goes a long way, i suppose.

#arcxnx #studyspo #studyblr advice #back to school #study tips

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fangirlandiknowit101 · 5 years ago

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For the writer's ask game, All Odd numbers 😁 no need to answer all if too many. Just wanna hear ur ideas on somee 😁imiss your fanficssss

omg idk if i love you or hating for asking so many questions in one goXD Aww i’m still writing, just veeery slowly... and i’ve had a few very rough weeks (mostly bc of work) so i haven’t had much energy or motivation at all - trying to get back into it so i can write the whole weekend!

1. Do you listen to music when you write?

Sometimes. It depends! Sometimes it helps get into the mood or avoid distraction, but sometimes the music makes me think of other plot ideas which is highly distracting *sweats* Lately, i’ve listened a lot to imagine dragons while writing!

3. Computer or pen and paper?

computer. i have some notebooks with old stuff written down, barely readable. why did i write plotlines in pink?? can’t read it at all lol

5. How much writing do you get done on an average day?

haha.. on average it’s like, nothing. but if i actually have time to write that day, it can be anything from 200 words to 4,000. usually i don’t get to more than 4K in one day for some reason (unless i switch fics to write on lol). maybe 1,000 words is a fairly accurate average!

7. Standalone or series?

usually standalones. i’ve only written one sequel in my life and it’s not even finished (Missing pieces)

9. Current WIP

The sun within me, Lessons in love, For You My Sun, Sugar Star are the ones waiting for new chapters. i’ve got a couple unpublished/unfinished WIPs in my folder... we’ll see if i manage to finish them at some point but i don’t really dare to describe them in case someone would actually want to read them

11. Books and/or authors who influenced you the most

hmm tough question. i grew up reading authors like David Eddings, Eoin Colfer, Tamora Pierce, i went down and checked my bookcase and those three are actually the ones still on display haha. of course i read books like harry potter and narnia etc. too. lots of fantasy basically - and lots and lots of horse books, but i don’t think you can tell in my writing lol. Ender’s game by Orson Scott Card is a favorite, as well as the hobbit and The name of the wind by Patrick Rothfuss. when i studied Finnish in university i had to branch out and read books i would never choose myself, and that really influenced me to broaden my perspective so to say. last book i read was probably Wayward son by Rainbow Rowell (i’m a sucker for sad gay vampires apparently). i also read a ton of murder mysteries like agatha christie when i was younger.

plus, all the manga i read - dragon ball and naruto and love hina and yaoi and god knows what

13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished

oh dear. i usually get an idea that goes sth like “wouldn’t it be hilarious if...” and then it spirals out of control. like, my first long fanfic, Results of a shitty day, was literally me saying “you know what? i want to write a long drama fic like all those other cool authors do” and there was no plan besides at all at first.

i tend to just write a first chapter and then have a general idea of what i want to explore - a certain character growing a certain way, or a certain trope, or just the one scene that won’t go away. For The sun within me, it was literally “hey what if i wrote naruto and sasuke in the road to ninja universe” and for Lessons in love it was “man i really want a fic where Yurio is Viktor’s son and they’re fanboys of Yuuri’s skating”, and me rambling to a friend in the car about it until i was forced to sit down and write it. i definitely make up the plot as i go. every time i decide the plot in advance i end up changing it anyway (yes, this happens even for oneshots sometimes). i love planning though - so much that i constantly re-plan the stories and plan the chapter while writing it too.

15. How do you deal with writer’s block?

badly. i’m a procrastinator. usually i switch between stories, if that doesn’t work, i try to write sth new, usually that doesn’t work and i end up reading fics until i’m convinced i can never write as well as other people can. and then i just have to take a break until my brain goes ping! and i can write again.

17. What writing habits or rituals do you have?

i think the only habit i have is getting easily distracted. *cough*

19. How do you keep yourself motivated?

i’m constantly writing in my head - daydreaming if you want to call it that. typing is very difficult, but i’m usually motivated by the fact that there’s nothing better than to sit down after a long day and just enjoy a really good fic about your OTP, and since people enjoy my writing i can’t just quit and rob them of this. i can’t just enjoy fandom without paying back when i actually have the possibility to do so. it usually works!! also, when i type, the story takes shape in a way it doesn’t in my head, which is actually really cool so i read my own stuff now and then just to remind me of this.

21. Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write?

Sasuke

23. Favourite author

hmm i don’t have just one. or do they mean fanfic author? well i wouldn’t be able to choose either way!

25. Favourite part of writing

when i manage to type a scene the way i pictured it in my head. and when i just write without a plan and things start to make sense!

27. Favourite line/scene

actually, every single scene in The sun within me is my favorite lol

29. Favourite villain

does Sasuke count? no? i’ll say Baz in the Carry On series

31. Least favourite part of writing

the first sentence of a fic or chapter. getting started is the hardest!!

33. Have you ever killed a main character?

i wrote a drabble with naruto and sasuke in the afterlife once. i don’t think i’ve actually killed anyone???

35. What scene/story are you least looking forward to writing?

the next chapter for Lessons in love is giving me a lot of trouble currently :(

37. First sentence or your current WIP

This is the first sentence of chapter 16, Lessons in love: Their last full day in Hasetsu passes in a blur.

And this is the first sentence if a yoi smut fic i’ll post when i finally finish ch 16 for LiL: The metro is always crowded at this time, and Yuuri hates it.

Don’t tell anyone i’m working on yet another smut fic for yoi.

Aaaand this is the first sentence of a sasnar fic i’m writing on when i’m too tired to actually write anything seriously: Sasuke was surprised to find that he was not the only one to be summoned to the Hokage’s office.

I know it was an earlier question, but i actually have something like 17 WIPs in my WIP folder that are not posted in any part yet, of which most will probably never see the light of day.

39. Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had

hmm i don’t know

41. Any advice for new/beginning/young writers?

i have much advice. but i don’t think any of it is very original. the most important thing - there’s no such thing as failure when you’re writing fanfic. write what you want and when you want, the only way to get better is to keep writing! i just re-read an old story to see if it was worth editing and copying over onto ao3, and realized i had used the word “pinkette” to describe sakura. we all start somewhere... and if you ever look back on old fics, focus on how much you enjoyed writing the fic, not if it’s good or not!!

43. What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?

if they don’t, it’s generally because they’re right and i’m not. forcing them back into the outline only makes for awkward writing. i always go along with it to see where it goes - sometimes it ends up somewhere much better than planned, sometimes you realize you’ve made mistakes way back in the fic and now you’re stuck with the choice of changing the plot or going back to rewrite.

45. How much world building do you do?

i actually hate world building. and describing things like scenery and places and clothes. i’ve had to really force myself to work on it. but i also make sure that i only give the absolute necessary information and then slip in the rest in bits and pieces where it fits. but since i mostly write in already set worlds, it’s usually not that necessary.

47. Best way to procrastinate

look at fics and put them in my marked for later and then procrastinate reading them by working on WIPs that are not my published WIPs and then procrastinate those WIPs by finding new fics to read and then maybe re-read my own fics. oh, and scrolling through social media

(i don’t actually have a lot of time to procrastinate bc it’s usually work-take care of horse-shower and dinner-sleep)

49. Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?

Phichit. so much fun!!!

Wow, that was a lot of questions and a lot of fun!! Sorry for the super long post you have to scroll by lol

Thank you for asking!!!

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oumiyuki · 5 years ago

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If you could spend an entire day with Honoka, what would you do?

Just stare at her

(* >ωᴗ

If say, I just woke up and she’s at my door and we got an entire day together. We would first have a good hearty breakfast! Freshly baked bread and delicious strawberry jam to spread across them and we chow down on them while we smile and a little chatter. Honoka gushing about the bread and me gushing about the sweetness and blushy lil’ o’ me as I say “it’s extra sweeter cos I’m eating it...with you.” ///w/// kya~ hehe~

(also there’s milkshake while we eat! or tea :3 because we are both tea people)

Then we’d go on to get a start-the-day-shower, and Honoka is so sweet and saying “how bout we get in the bath together?” but I’m ..!!!! (♡´艸`)（♥￫ｏ￩♥） “No..No...I..We...We couldn’t- *cough cough cough clears throat three times four*

“Okay!” Honoka chirps and gets in the shower first and then I do too. And I’m like, we smell the same, we smell the same now. Cos we used the same shampoo and body wash, and ahhh, Honoka!! (⺣◡⺣)♡*(⺣◡⺣)♡*(⺣◡⺣)♡*

Honoka then suggests going for some outside, fresh air. I’m a bit apprehensive in thought as I’m such an indoor girl. Honoka smiles patiently and says we don’t have to if I don’t wanna. That kinda flips my switch of not wanting to hold others back. So I quickly shake my head to say “no, no! we can go out! but where to?” 0o0`

Honoka beams and takes my hand. I’m surprised I haven’t faint yet. But internal Miyuki is doing that long gasp thingy people do when they are in awe but dying but loving every single moment of what’s happening kinda gasp XD

We leave the house and end up in the grocery store and I’m wondering why we’re here but also guessing, well, to buy food! Honoka nods with that angelic smile of hers. “Let’s get food we both like to cook~”

I smile my happy-fluttery-in love smile because I LOVE home-cooked food the most. And be it, me getting a chance to have Honoka’s cooking. Or me having a chance to cook for Honoka! Or woah, we’re cooking together! I’m so hyped and in high tension now! Honokaaaa~ I love you. Let’s cook!

Halfway through lunch of me stuffing my mouth full of food, which was a feat as I couldn’t quite stop my smile. So I’m smiling and eating, looking at Honoka every moment I can instead of looking at my food. I drop the rice or ingredients at times or poke my face with the spoon and Honoka’s laughs. I think my soul ascended a bit. hehe. Honoka~ (♡´౪`♡)

Oh right, halfway through lunch I jolt out of my intoxicated with love stupor with a gasp and my expression one of worry. Honoka has a concerned look on (which I found really cute too) and asked me if everything was alright. I take a few seconds as my mind raced, before I chuckled awkwardly, “Oh no...Just thinking that I haven’t gotten my login bonus for today and to play a bit of SIF...hehe...” Rubbing my arm a little awkwardly from the nerves and silliness of this realization.

Honoka smirks. Honoka smirks! Before she grins at me lovingly. “But I’m here already.” My head shot up and face morphed in an I know! I know that’s why I’m not rushing for my phone or anything. Don’t misunderstand-

“But I would like to see what your account looks like~ Filled with...me~? Just kidding. It’s totally okay for you to have a bunch of Kotori-chan cards or Nico-chan cards. They are both really cute school idols too!” Honoka actually looked like she’d be upset if I did have more of their cards in my SIF account.

I feel my heart squeezing and thumping that much faster at how much I love Honoka. How cute she is. How amazing she is. How Honoka she is~ ♡(ŐωŐ人)

I show her my account and she goes “Woah, that’s a lot of me!” And we both chuckle at what a funny thing it is to say. I comment shyly, “But my dream is to have all of Honoka- er, I mean all of your cards...so...I’ve still got ways to go...hehe.../////” And she adds, “But now there’s me right here with you...so you could get all the other cards you don’t have yet in reality next time!”

Honoka stays quiet after that line. I stay quiet too. Then she bounces on the spot with a clap. “Let’s finish lunch and play something~” I nod in agreement and we continued eating our Honoka and Miyuki cooked meal together~

With the dishes washed, Honoka rocks on her heels back and forth as she asks what I might like to do together. I stared at her. We’ve spent an entire morning till afternoon together already and I still feel like I’m dreaming. I’ve living a dream! ۹(ÒہÓ)۶ “Movies and cuddles?” OH MY GOSH. WAIT, WHAT DID I JUST SUGGEST. HONOKA- WITH HONOKA- I MEAN. I JUST WANNA HANG OUT MORE, NOT ANYTHING ELSE. SHE HAS KOTORI-

(which I forgot to add that Honoka would comment about how cute Kotori is in SIF and she’d see my team name “HonoKoto” and she does that endearing smile at it. And my HonoKoto heart squeals with starry eyes that HonoKoto is real (● Ò □ Ó ) ♡ ♡ ♡ )

Honoka laughs. “That sounds like something we can do after dinner. But sure! You’re so cute~”

you’re a thousand, million times cuter, Honoka!! I scream in my mind but don’t verbalize it cos she took my breath away. (⺣◡⺣)♡*

We don’t cuddle. Of course, we don’t. XD But we sat beside each other on the couch as we put family cartoons on the big screen and some rom-com on too. We laughed, we felt our heartstrings being tugged for the characters on screen and at times a bit of tears too. And it’s just so fun to talk about our opinions on the movies after each one of them. :”))))))

Dinner time was closing in. And we already decided what we were gonna have! We just can’t say no to curry! (ᗒᗨᗕ) so we put that to boil and then on our plates and mmmmm~ it’s sooooooo good!

She had this fun idea of cutting the carrots and potatoes to look like alphabets somewhat so that when we get that on our plates, we can ask each other questions starting with the letter. And it’s a funget to know each other game as we eat. Which enhanced our chat too. Our dinner lasted long with laughs and “ooohs~” as we found out more about each other.

We got back on the couch after but instead of movies, we went to have fun on youtube and also look through my folder of Muse stuff. I was a bit embarrassed but Honoka got embarrassed too with how much Honoka content I have. ///w/// hehe~ Honoka~

We stayed up for as long as we can as I childishly and determinedly not want to sleep or let Honoka go to sleep as I didn’t want the day to end via sleep like that. It was a tough challenge as me being in bed equates to sleep within seconds or a minute. Honoka herself loves sleep. So we both tried to keep up the conversation or stares and funny faces and even going “First one to sleep is pink pig plushie (think SIF SR Honoka ;))” or “First one to sleep owes the other a drink/meal”. But well, we don’t really know who fell asleep first as we both closed our eyes, our bodies laid down on bed and sleep took us.(๑>ᴗ

Morning came. But it was still dark. Honoka was awake. I blinked up at her as she rolled out of bed and brightened the morning with a smile. “Get up, Miyuki-chan~ I’ve got something to show you~” I blinked grogily, still sleepy. “Honoka...5 more-” “No!” Honoka pulls me out of bed and before I know it, I’ve brushed my teeth, put on a bit more clothes and we’re somewhere outside.

I’m more awake when Honoka says “This will be another one of our memories together.”

I look at her and then a flicker started from across the horizon, far out at the sea. Yup, she brought me to a park, to watch the sunrise. “Honoka...” My sun...

Honoka smiles as she watches the sunrise. I watched her and the sunrise. “Th-Thank you...This is beautiful...A beautiful, unforgettable memory.”

Honoka smiles bright, to me, it’s brighter than the gorgeous sunrise we just experienced. And that says a lot. (๑>ᴗ

Honoka stands and I follow. She looks a little more solemn now. “Honoka..?”

“I guess this is it.”

“Oh.” I lowered my head, staring at our feets. Honoka was wearing my slipper. “I guess...”

Honoka puts a hand on my head, a soft pat. “I hope it was a fun day for you.”

I nod vigorously, my hair being a ruffled by her hand still on my head. “It was so fun! I...I wish it didn’t have to end!”

Honoka grins from ear to ear and she whispers. “Me too.”

I looked, stared and really didn’t want to have to look away from Honoka. Ever. “...Bye bye...”

Honoka chuckes softly and takes my hand in hers like she did when we were going grocery shopping. “First, I escort you home.”

“Thank you...” I tend to never say no to escorts since I get lost easily. I should have pointed out that I wanna see her off. But well, she walked me home and we waved goodbye. I got a hug. A huge hug. A bear hug. A hug that lasted so long but just not enough.

“Goodbye, Miyuki-chan!” Honoka graces me with that huge smile that steals my heart every single time before she ran off, leaving me waving and staring in the distance.

...

What a day.

Wait. Honoka said ‘next time’! When looking at my SIF account??

Does that mean..?

She might come over for an entire day again?!

I couldn’t quite think of anything else for the rest of the day but Honoka.

~~~~~~~~

(´∀`) Like...woah. （・ｗ・）1738 words what? (* >ω

I took a really long time to answer this Ask, but I guess you can understand why? XD I was procrastinating as I rolled in a thousand and one ideas of what I could possibly do in a day with Honoka. BUT. I guess the way about it was really to just sit and let the thoughts spill out of my head with fingers moving to type out each and every thought. An honest one, where I don’t go “but that” , “but I wanna do this” (* >ω

My sincerest and greatest thanks to you Shin-san for the Ask! It really made me think and gosh, an entire day with Honoka is such a blessing. hehe~ (*≧∀≦*)(*≧∀≦*)(*≧∀≦*)

#kousaka honoka #love live!#personal?#it's literally me spending time with Honoka #woah #I can't believe it #it's a dream come true #!!#///w///#Honoka~#happiness #pure bliss #smiles #honoka is love honoka is life #honoka kousaka #love live! school idol project #miyuki being miyuki #is this #fanfiction

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