#Ignore the camera work Nick

[stopper-my-heart]

Let's break down the sequence at the end of Heartstopper S1E2 and beginning of S1E3 — in which Nick is working on coming to terms with the fact that he likes Charlie and Charlie is a boy — focussing on Nick.

The whole sequence masterfully sets up our understanding of Nick and his headspace via a series of contrasts.

Warning: This is a gif-filled long post with sadness ahead. (If you'd prefer a happier take related to this sequence, take a look at my other post about it.) CW: Short mention of some homophobic practises/issues in the world at the end (those shown in the show at the beginning of S1E3).

The sequence begins with Nick entering his room, but it's filmed through his bedroom window, i.e., from the outside looking in. We don't even clearly see his face. The next shot is of a photo on Instagram of Nick with his rugby friends. To me, this is drawing attention to the fact that Nick is on the outside of his friend group.

The photo itself offers a stark contrast to this idea: Nick is in the centre of his mates, literally being carried and supported by them. His face suggests he's thinking about how the photo doesn't represent reality. The photo is captioned "lads", but Nick isn't a (stereotypical) 'lad'...and may not be 'one of the lads', either, if Nick let his rugby friends really know him.

There's then a brief flash of Imogen's Insta post, which is a photo of likely herself (the person's head is out of shot) and its caption is helpfully centred for us: "stay true to yourself 🥰🌸". (This deserves its own analysis tbh.) We see Nick slightly smiling at it, but we're physically very far away from him and only move incrementally closer.

Next Nick comes across Charlie's photo from their 'snow day'. Nick isn't in the photo, but it is a photo that he took, so although it's a public post that in a way 'can't' have the two of them together in it yet, he's not completely absent from it. Nick's face is immediately much more smiley.

The comparison between Nick's reactions to the different photos hearkens back to the commentary from Nick's mum earlier in the episode (which she made, y'know, the day the photo Nick just saw was taken):

All signs point to: Nick is not true to himself with his rugby friends, (maybe a little with Imogen,) but he is with Charlie.

Back to Nick— Seeing Charlie's photo inspires Nick to switch to his camera roll which is already scrolled to his snow day photos implying that he's looked at them another time recently to look at more photos from their snow day, prompting even more smiling and a tiny laugh. Not to mention, now Nick can finally see his genuine self in the photos he's looking at.

I've been focussing on the scenes with Nick so far, but this whole sequence goes back and forth between Nick and Charlie in their respective rooms and is set up as a contrast between them. Let's look at that comparison to understand the full picture with Nick before we continue on.

We see Charlie from a comfortable/typical-to-the-viewer angle, in contrast to our view of Nick which has been almost awkwardly straight on throughout this sequence, whether in front of or behind him.

Charlie is also relaxedly lying in his bed, directly engaging with his friend group to get their input on the situation with Nick (Charlie's on the inside), compared to Nick who is sitting on the edge of his bed, kind of hunched over his phone, scrolling through photos other people are posting (on the outside looking in, and still only looking in via photos that don't tell the full story).

There are further contrasts between them, too, of course. Charlie is confident about his sexuality while Nick is questioning, so he's not confused or scared by liking Nick the way Nick is about liking Charlie.

Charlie is instead feeling hopeful at the prospect that Nick might also be interested, and we leave him for the episode with his cautious excitement about Elle's news that Tara at least isn't into Nick.

Back to Nick— In the past, Nick's typically experienced or thought about his feelings for Charlie when he's with Charlie or when there are other people around. But this time there's no Charlie to distract Nick from the scariness with his Charlie-ness (and the positive feelings of liking him), and there are no other people around to force Nick to abandon his thoughts or put a mask on.

So when Nick has his moment of fully acknowledging his romantic feelings for Charlie to himself and wondering if that might mean that he's gay (and if so, what does that mean for him?), the contrast with Charlie's fairly straightforward hopefulness and attentive support network highlights how alone Nick is, and with something more daunting.

But Nick is strong and brave, and he's not going to let that stop him.

It's after this that we get the same shot as the first one, from behind Nick, except now the camera is inside the bedroom with Nick and getting ever closer. Nick then even turns toward the camera at the end. The question is: Who is Nick, really, on the inside?

He's ready to find out, even if it's scary.

But because there are no people close to him that Nick could talk to about what's going on with him — no friends Nick can reach out to about how he's feeling, he doesn't know how his mother would respond to this, Charlie is the one he's having feelings for so he can't really talk to him about it — Nick uses what seems like the only option open to him: the internet.

And then Nick is confronted with results about violent hate crimes, conversion therapy, opposition to equal rights, discrimination, not to mention some unhelpful quizzes...so much anti-LGBTQIA+ sentiment and the horrible things that that can lead to, all whilst he's having a complete identity crisis. Nick is so alone and afraid, feeling deeply confused and misunderstood — including misunderstood by himself — and his internet reading has not only not provided clarity or a sense of being seen, but it's even highlighted that Nick may have reasons to be afraid.

And because Nick doesn't have a support network he feels he can talk to about this, he's stuck with these feelings for now.

In conclusion: This sequence breaks my heart. (If your heart is also breaking, my related post may help heal it. Or I recommend watching Heartstopper. If your heart isn't breaking, I blame my post. Go watch the end of S1E2 and the beginning of S1E3 and then come tell me that your heart is still whole)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　5 TIMES CHRIS AND Y/N WERE CAUGHT KISSING

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where a fan creates a 5-minute video with all the times that Chris and Y/N were caught kissing.

WARNING: Making-out.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Chris and Y/N sat side by side on the plush couch in the living room. They were half-watching a movie that had been playing for the past hour, but neither of them was truly invested. Chris's arm was draped lazily around Y/N's shoulders, his thumb drawing idle circles on her upper arm. It was one of those rare, peaceful evenings where they could just relax and enjoy each other's company, without the usual hustle and bustle of filming or the pressure of content creation hanging over Chris head.

Y/N was scrolling through her TikTok, a small smile playing on her lips as she came across fan edits and posts dedicated to Chris and his brothers. Her fingers stopped suddenly, her eyes widening as she stopped on a video with the caption: "Top 5 Times Chris and Y/N Were Caught Kissing in the Background." She let out a small laugh, nudging Chris's shoulder to get his attention.

"Baby, look at this." She muttered, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and shyness. She turned the phone screen towards him, and his brows shot up in surprise as he read the title.

"Are you serious?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned closer to get a better view. "I didn't even know we were caught that many times."

Y/N pressed play, and the screen lit up with the fan edit.

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1. Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute. (Two Times)

The first clip was from a Baking Blind, Deaf, and Mute challenge, recorded when the triplets had visited their parents in Boston for their birthday.

The video opened with Nick standing in the foreground with Matt by his side, leaning casually on the marble table, his hands gesturing animatedly as he explained how that video would be with the participation of Y/N. His voice was filled with that signature mix of enthusiasm and sarcasm as usual.

As Nick continued to lay out the idea, the camera caught slightly Chris and Y/N in the background, standing by the fridge. Chris was holding a spatula in the air like a sword while staring at Y/N, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a playful grin tugged at his lips.

Next to him, Y/N was meticulously reading the ingredients list, ignoring his playful manner successfully, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to memorize the steps, fully aware that she wouldn’t be able to see anything in a few minutes.

The atmosphere was light and filled with anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing things were about to descend into playful chaos. Matt and Nick were already debating loudly over what constituted a valid ingredient while picking the necessary ones from the cabinets, their voices a blend of mock seriousness and barely-contained laughter.

But then, probably with the hope of being hidden behind his brothers' back, Chris leaned closer to Y/N, his shoulder brushing against hers. The gesture was subtle, almost as if he were seeking her out in the midst of the noise, a quiet connection just for them. Y/N looked up from the list, her eyes meeting his, and a soft laugh escaped her, the sound so gentle that the camera barely picked it up.

Listening to his favorite sound, Chris, with his eyes sparkling with mischief, turned fully toward Y/N. He leaned in, whispering something in her ear that drew another quiet laugh from her - just like his goal -, her smile wide and genuine, the kind that made her eyes crinkle at the corners.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Chris dipped his head and pressed a quick, tender kiss to her lips. It was brief, a mere brush of lips, but the affection behind it was palpable. Y/N’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she ducked her head, pretending to be engrossed in the ingredients list once more, though the small, secretive smile playing at her lips betrayed her.

Meanwhile, Matt started trying to talk to the camera, his voice raised to make sure the viewers could hear him over Nick's teasing.

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2. DTI

The second clip was from a particularly memorable livestream that Matt and Chris had done from Matt’s room. They had recently started playing a game called Dress to Impress, and after recording a small video for their YouTube channel where they played the game for the first time, it quickly became their newest obsession.

Y/N had been hanging out in the room during the stream, perched comfortably on Nick's chair off-camera. Although she wasn’t actively participating in the game, her presence was felt in subtle ways; every now and then, a hand would appear on the edge of the screen, holding out a bottle of water, an energy drink or a bowl of snacks for the boys. Each time, Chris would glance away from the screen just long enough to offer her a grateful smile or a quick thank you before returning to the chaos on Matt's monitor.

On this particular moment, the livestream had taken an amusing turn. Matt was deeply engrossed in a competition against another player who had, to his disbelief, apparently copied his entire outfit design. His face was a mix of shock and indignation, his voice rising with every word as he expressed his frustration.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh loudly. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he listened to his brother’s angry words, his eyes focused on the screen.

It was in this moment that Y/N leaned forward, her face suddenly appearing in the corner of the camera. She moved quietly, almost as if she was sneaking up on Chris, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in close to him, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered softly - something about 'knowing that Matt would win either way, since he - Chris - was the creative mind who helped creating the outfit'.

Chris’s reaction was immediate. The playful grin he had been wearing just moments before softened into something warmer, more affectionate. He turned his head slightly, meeting Y/N’s gaze with a look that was full of amusement. Without a second thought, he leaned in, catching her lips in a quick, sweet kiss. The kiss was fleeting, lasting only a second before Y/N pulled back, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she disappeared back into the background.

The moment was so brief that it could have easily gone unnoticed, especially with Matt’s voice still rising as he ranted about the blatant theft of his outfit. But their fans were nothing if not observant. The chat lit up almost instantly, viewers flooding the comments with a mixture of excitement and teasing.

Despite his attempts to play it cool, Chris couldn’t help the faint blush that crept up his cheeks. The tips of his ears turned pink as he tried to brush off the attention, focusing back on the game with a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"Alright, alright, focus on Matt, not me." He said, trying to redirect the conversation, though his smile never wavered.

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3. Fortnite Late Night

The third clip captured a moment during one of Matt and Chris's late-night gaming streams, "Fortnite Late Night." Each brother was in his own bedroom, Chris’s camera angled perfectly to frame his upper body, revealing a glimpse of his bed in the background, the soft light from his monitor casting a cool, blue glow over the room.

Meanwhile, Y/N had been upstairs, finishing up in the kitchen. The quiet house amplified the sound of her soft footsteps as she went to the stairs, heading towards the room she shared with Chris.

When Y/N reached the end of the steps and stepped into their bedroom, she found Chris completely engrossed in the game. His posture was tense, shoulders slightly hunched forward, eyes fixed on the screen with an intense concentration. The dim lighting highlighted his features - his lips were slightly parted, pink and plump, forming a small, unintentional pout, and his dark brown eyebrows were knitted together in focus.

He didn’t notice her at first, his mind fully absorbed in the game, but Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked in his concentrated state.

She was ready to crawl into bed, exhausted from the day, but there was one thing she had to do before she could even think about sleep. It was a nightly ritual at this point. No matter how tired she was, Y/N couldn’t fall asleep without saying goodnight to Chris.

Moving with sleepy steps, she walked over to where he sat. Chris didn’t need to look up to know she was there; he could sense her presence. As she leaned over the back of his chair, he could feel the soft brush of her hair against his neck, a comforting sensation that made him momentarily forget about the game.

"Goodnight, honey." Y/N whispered softly, her voice low and gentle, meant only for his ears. But her words, though quiet, were picked up by his sensitive microphone, echoing faintly through the livestream, reaching the ears of the hundreds of fans watching.

Without hesitation, and without any regard for the live audience, Chris tilted his head back, silently asking for his goodnight kiss. It was an instinctual, almost automatic gesture. Y/N, smiling at his adorable demand, obliged him, leaning down to press her lips against his in a tender, familiar kiss.

The angle was a bit awkward, the kiss upside down, but it didn’t matter, it was soft and unhurried.

On the other end of the game, Matt was fully aware of what had just happened. The sudden silence from Chris’s side was enough of a giveaway, and when he glanced at the small preview screen showing Chris’s camera, he saw it all. Matt smirked but kept his eyes on the game, unfazed by the interruption - he had grown used to these moments.

"Dude." Matt finally spoke up after Y/N’s figure disappeared behind Chris’s back, his tone dripping with teasing exasperation. "Can’t you keep your PDA for when we’re not live?"

Chris didn’t even flinch. With a lazy grin spreading across his face, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic.

"Sorry, couldn’t help it." He replied, his voice light and carefree. The grin on his face said it all - he wasn’t sorry at all.

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4. hello world

It had been a late-night gaming session - again -, one of those times when Chris and Matt were fully immersed in it, talking to fans while navigating through Dress to Impress. The energy in Chris’s room was electric, with his monitors casting a blue glow that bathed everything in a dim light. His headset was on, and he was deeply focused, his eyes glued to the screen.

But the concentration was constantly broken by Chris’s rumbling stomach and the string of complaints that followed.

"Ugh, I’m so hungry." He groaned into the mic, making a face. "Seriously, I could eat a whole pizza right now."

Matt laughed on the other end of the line, his voice crackling through the headphones.

"Dude, we just had dinner like three hours ago."

"Yeah, and?" Chris shot back, pausing for a second to take a sip of his energy drink. "That was hours ago. I’m starving. Hey chat, send food!" He laughed at his own joke, glancing over at the live comments.

Little did Chris know, Y/N was watching the livestream from the living room. She’d been lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone, when she heard his complaints. A smile spread across her face as an idea formed in her mind. She knew Chris’s favorite takeout place just down the street and decided to surprise him.

She slipped on a pair of sneakers, grabbed her keys, and headed out. The whole trip took barely fifteen minutes. When she returned, the aroma of Chris’s favorite meal wafted through the bag she was carrying, and she made her way quietly up the stairs to their room.

Chris was still completely absorbed in his game, his back to the door. He didn’t notice when she slipped in, the door clicking softly behind her. Y/N could hear him talking to his brother, still complaining about his hunger, completely oblivious to her presence.

She smiled to herself, holding back a giggle as she crept closer. She set the bag down on his desk next to his keyboard, the movement catching his attention. Chris looked up, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw Y/N standing there, holding out the takeout bag with a grin.

"Hey." She whispered, leaning in close so the mic wouldn’t pick up her voice - unsuccessfully. "I heard you were hungry."

Chris’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He pulled off his headset, letting it hang around his neck, and stretched out his arms to catch the bag from her.

"Oh my God, you’re the best." He said, his voice low and filled with genuine affection. He opened the bag, inhaling deeply, and let out a content sigh. "You got my favorite!"

Y/N nodded, her smile growing wider.

"I know you too well."

Without another word, Chris set the bag down and reached out, pulling Y/N into his arms, forcing her to bent her upper body. He didn’t care that the stream was still going or that his brother and the fans were waiting. In that moment, all he could think about was how thoughtful and sweet she was. He tilted his head up, capturing her lips in a deep, grateful kiss.

Y/N kissed him back, her hands resting on his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants.

It wasn’t until they broke apart that Chris remembered they were still live. He glanced over at his screen, the chat scrolling so fast it was a blur, and he could see the comments exploding.

Chris laughed, picking up his headset and sliding it back on.

"Sorry, guys." He said into the mic, a huge grin on his face. "Got a little distracted there. Y/N just brought me food, so, uh, I’m gonna eat while we keep playing."

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5. We became dad's for 24 hours!!! (to eggs)

The last clip was one of a quiet, intimate moment captured during one of the boys' more absurd challenges: taking care of an egg as if it were their own child for 24 hours.

It was the middle of the early morning, the clock barely ticking past 3 AM, when the sound of three simultaneous alarms pierced the stillness of the house. The sharp, grating beeps echoed through the rooms, signaling that it was time for them to wake up and "feed" their eggs.

The absurdity of the situation was only amplified by the ungodly hour, the boys' groggy voices muttering incoherently as they stumbled around, trying to remember where they had left their fragile "children".

Y/N, who had been curled up in bed, still wrapped in the warmth of sleep, found herself jolted awake by the noise. Her eyelids were heavy, barely lifting as she pushed herself up from the bed.

Dressed in one of Chris's oversized T-shirt that hung loosely over her frame and a pair of soft pajama shorts, she looked the very picture of someone who had been dragged from sleep far too early. Her hair was tousled, a wild halo around her face, and her eyes were half-closed as she shuffled out of the room.

She used the commotion as an excuse to get a drink of water, her feet moving on autopilot as she padded quietly into the kitchen. The house was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon filtering through the big window and the faint blue light of the fridge as she pulled it open.

The boys’ sleepy voices floated to her from the living room, muffled but distinct, each of them trying to outdo the other in their groggy banter about their "kids".

Chris was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, his body sinking into the cushions, looking cozy yet disheveled. His legs were stretched out, feet propped up on the coffee table, and his head was tilted back, his eyes blinking slowly as he tried to stay awake. He was mumbling something about the challenge, his words barely coherent.

Y/N, still in her sleepy haze, wandered toward them, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. The coolness of the water bottle in her hand provided a small comfort as she made her way toward Chris, passing by Matt’s legs, narrowly avoiding his outstretched foot, and maneuvered around the coffee table until she stood in front of her boyfriend.

Chris’s gaze followed her movements, his tired eyes lighting up slightly as he watched her approach. His arms opened wide, almost instinctively, inviting her into his embrace without needing to say a word. There was a small, sleepy smile on his lips, one that matched the one Y/N gave him as she stepped closer. The moment was quiet, almost dreamlike, the world around them fading into the background as she climbed over his legs and nestled into his lap.

She settled herself against him, her legs folded up on the couch as her body molded against his. The right side of her body pressed against his chest, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath her. Her head found its place on his shoulder, her nose nuzzling gently against the exposed skin of his neck.

Chris’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, causing Y/N to smile against his neck, feeling the warmth of his breath on her skin, and she tilted her head back just enough to look up at him.

Almost automatically, Chris leaned down again, their lips meeting in a soft, lazy kiss. It was gentle, a mere brush of lips, but it was enough to make Y/N’s heart flutter.

When they pulled back, Y/N let out a small sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled back into the curve of his neck. Chris held her close, his hand resting on her back, his thumb stroking gently up and down in a soothing rhythm, letting his brothers finish what they wanted to say before going to bed again.

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The video ended, and Y/N hit pause before it replayed again by itself, looking up at Chris, who was leaning back with a satisfied smile.

"Wow." She started, dragging out the word. "Look at you, Mister Romantic."

Chris shrugged, unabashed.

"What can I say? When you've got a girlfriend as amazing as you, you just... can't help yourself."

Y/N, sitting up and adjusting her position, rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks tinged pink.

"You’re such a dork." She muttered, but there was affection in her voice.

"And you love it." Chris shot back, leaning down, pressing a kiss to her temple, and Y/N couldn't help but smile, leaning into his touch.

"I really do."

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extra - comments:

"this compilation was the perfect one to prove what the boys said about chris being the only one who would make-out with his girlfriend in front of everyone 😭"

"stop, the way chris looks at Y/N in every clip???? ugh, I NEED this 😩"

"forget the baking, chris and Y/N's little kiss right there? too cute omg"

"okay but that livestream moment when Y/N brings chris food 😭 she's so thoughtful and caring ;(("

"chris and Y/N in the background just being all lovey-dovey while matt and nick are doing their thing is EVERYTHING!!! they’re so in love it hurts 🥺"

"honestly, I’m all here for how they’re always caught kissing like they forget the cameras are on 😞"

"chris couldn't even focus on the game anymore after Y/N kissed him LMAOOO, he's down bad, guys"

"STOP IT RIGHT NOW!! Y/N laying on chris lap while they do their thing with their eggs omg 🤧🤧 they're so precious"

[muwapsturniolo]

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 🐰ྀི M & C Sturniolo

✘ fluff, mentions of smoking but that's it.

"Hold the damn camera Chris!"

"M'not the fucking YouTuber, Nick is!" Chris barks back, annoyance clear in his voice.

Matt and Chris were filming a surprise video for Nick's channel. They weren't in the YouTube scene unless they filmed with Nick or went to sell at the influencer parties—YouTube wasn't their thing. Despite the influencer scene not being their forte, the two had been high and came up with the bright idea to surprise their brother and their girlfriend with a bunch of barn animals.

They don't remember exactly how the idea formed, but they were hellbent on doing it. They formed a plan, deciding on setting everything up that following Wednesday when Bunny had ballet early and Nick had a meeting for his brand. It worked perfectly considering Nick would then pick Bunny up and they would come home at the same time.

So here they were, allowing the animal owner, Bianca, inside along with all the animals. "They are going to love this," Chris giggles as he zooms the camera in on the turtle.

"You said you two were surprising your brother and your girlfriend?" both boys nod at Bianca's question, smiles on their faces as they think about the surprise. "That's nice, who's the lucky guy with the girl?"

Before either boy could answer, they hear the front door opening, Nick immediately calling out, "We're home!"

"Hey Nick, hey Bunny," Nick and Bunny come up the stairs, Nick appearing first and stopping in his tracks.

"I'm never leaving the house again. What is going on?!" Bunny furrows her brows in confusion. She was still on the lower part of the stairs so she didn't see all the animals, however when she heard a duck quacking, she was quick to rush up the stairs.

She gasps and drops her bag in excitement, nothing but joy rushing through her veins, her exhaustion long forgotten. Her eyes dart around the living room, looking at all the animals and taking it in. She zeros in on the bunnies and squeals, diving forward and falling to her knees in front of the cage. She begins to talk to the bunnies through the cage, the pair of animal siblings flocking towards her and sniffing her fingers.

Nick walks into the living room fully, still in shock at how his home has been transformed. "Are you two surprised?" Chris asks, shoving the camera in Nick's face.

"In an odd way I am, but I'm not surprised by the activities you two like to do anymore." Chris rolls his eyes and turns the camera to Bunny who is still preoccupied with the bunnies.

"And what about you Bun? You surprised?" Matt asks as he squats down next to her. Instead of answering him, she turns towards Bianca with a hopeful look. "They are so cute! Am I allowed to hold them?!" Matt scoffs as he is being ignored, standing up once more and standing by Chris.

" Of course! If you want you can sit in the cage with them as well."

It's amusing to everyone how the girl climbs into the cage and starts playing with the rabbits, disregarding all the other animals in sight as well as the other people in the room. She looks in her element, in her own world, joy strewn across her face as the animals climb all over her.

As Chris and Matt film Nick, catching him awkwardly interacting with the animals, Bunny remains in the cage, having the time of her life.

It's like the furry animals recognize her as one of their own. The one in her arms manages to propel itself on top of her head, while the other two plant themselves in her lap. Her contagious giggles capture the attention of everyone and they can't help but swoon at the wholesome sight.

"Looks like Bun found her flock," Matt jokes, walking over and taking the rabbit off her head.

"Don't you want to hold one of the other animals' Bun?" She looks at the other animals and shakes her head, going back to feeding her 'people'.

After another hour, time is up and Bianca begins to gather her things and animals. "Come on ma, out the cage," Chris ushers softly, holding his hand out to help her stand up. The girl pouts and holds on to the bunnies. "Do they have to go?" Chris sucks in a sharp breath seeing her pout and her eyes soften.

Matt chuckles, "yes, they do. Come on, we don't want to hold Bianca up." She huffs and begrudgingly sets the animals down, allowing Chris and Matt to help her out of the cage.

As both boys hold on to her, missing her this whole day, Bianca speaks up. "Did you want to help me bring them to the car?" Bunny immediately wiggles out of Matt and Chris's grasp, scooping up one of the bunnies in her arm and bounding down the stairs.

Matt and Chris huff, but begin helping clean up the living room. Eventually, the livingroom was back to normal, the barn smell gone due to the cleaners that came.

Bunny bounds into Chris's room, fresh out of the shower and dressed in pajamas. She plants herself on Chris's lap, disregarding the blunt in his hand as he and Matt smoke. She smiles innocently at them, touching Chris affectionately. They both look at her with low red eyes - they already know she wants something. She never sits on their lap when they smoke, always opting to sit on the bed or going to be with Nick.

"What do you want?

"Who said I want something? I can't sit with my boy-" She stops her lies seeing the look Matt gives her. She huffs and crosses her arms, "Fine, I want a pet bunny."

"No" Matt and Chris answer at the same time. She furrows her brows, her face already going into a pout.

"Why not?!"

"Because none of us in this house are ready for a bunny out of all pets," Matt answers nonchalantly. She knows there is some truth to his words, but she can't help but be a brat about it. She huffs once more and pushes herself away from Chris, going to lie on his bed. She doesn't get far due to Matt turning her around and gripping her jaw softly.

"Drop the attitude, you know I'm right," she whines softly but does as told, knowing that she can't be mad about the truth. Matt chuckles and plants a soft kiss to her lips, " we can get a fish instead."

"Really?" Her eyes glow with excitement. A fish isn't a bunny, but she wouldn't mind settling for an aquatic animal. Matt chuckles and pats her butt, ushering her towards the bed.

"Go to sleep, you have practice tomorrow."

[ericshoney]

Dress to impress ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You join your brothers in playing Dress to impress.

Warnings: swearing, shouting, nicknames, chaos

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You were in LA with Nick, Matt and Chris. As you were on summer break, you were able to fly out and see them for a while. You were chilling sat at the table, colouring, your parents gone out for a while, when your brothers walked in.

"Hey kiddo, we're going to film and play Dress to impress on Roblox, you wanna join?" Chris offered.

"Sure!" You cheered, placing your pens down and follow the trio to Matt's room.

"Never played it before." You said, as you sat on a chair Matt set up for you.

"Don't worry petal, neither have we." He replied.

You smiled and watched as they set a stream up too. You waved to the camera, seeing all the comments. One asking about your age.

"I'm seven!" You exclaimed, making your brothers smile.

"That's right chat, we have the harshest fashion critic going, our seven year old sister." Nick said, making you laugh.

"Let's try and keep the language to a minimal too." Matt said, but the three burst out laughing.

"No bad words." You said.

"We'll try bub, but you know not to repeat any of them." Chris said, making you nod.

The game began and you just watched, seeing some of the different clothes and your brothers soon realised the aim of the game and some features required money.

"Get that!" You cheered, pointing to some furry boots.

"Oh good call, sweetheart!" Matt cheered.

You smiled but Nick and Chris didn't approve. They didn't want to upset you as you picked them, so they picked on Matt instead.

"Matt! That's so not cool!" Nick exclaimed.

As the brothers fought, you just laughed, seeing Nick and Chris' pained faces as Matt ignored them, but screamed about how he couldn't turn the screen. Many swear words flew out their mouths, but you were smart and knew not to repeat them.

"You want a turn, kid?" Chris asked you.

"Can I!" You exclaimed.

"Of course, here you go!" He replied.

You giggled sitting on the chair at the front. You ran around looking at different items, with some help from your brothers.

"Want that!" You cheered, pointing to a dress on the wall.

Nick helped you get to it and pick it, letting you pick your favourite colour. By the time was up, you had a cute dress, some boots and a handbag. You smiled proudly at your work.

"Wooo! You go girl!" Nick cheered as you avatar walked the runway.

"You better get some fucking votes!" Matt grumbled.

"Matt!" Nick scolded.

"He's not wrong though." Chris said.

"True, you killed it." Nick agreed.

You were too focused on the screen, watching the other players show off. You were slightly confused at some of the outfit choices but only cared about your own and hoped you got some votes.

"What do I get if I win?" You asked.

"Um, if you are either first, second or third, we'll treat you to ice cream." Chris offered.

"Okay!" You cheered.

The results then came in and you cheered as your avatar was second place. The guys also cheered happy for you.

"Ice cream?" You then called, looking at your three brothers.

"Sure kiddo, once we're finished filming." Nick said with a nod.

You smiled and sat watching them carry on, mainly focused on what ice cream flavour your going to get.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist

@mattsfavbigtitties @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Long day- matt Sturniolo

Summary: You had a long day at work and matt gives you some lovin to help with your long day :)

Warnings: SMUT, P in V, parsing, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, use of Y/N, Dirty talking, Degradation, aftercare!

A/N: I LOVE SWEET MATT!! ITS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE!! ignore the song, i couldn’t find one so since he knows sm about bags

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Today has genuinely been the worst and longest day of my life. I’ve worked front desk at a salon for the last year and a half now, i had people coming in asking me about what to do for their hair type, karen’s complaining about their hair, just overall horrible, im just the front desk lady for right now i cant really tell these fucking people what to do, make a damn appointment. Matt and I have been together for 3 years, and have been dating to the public for a year and a half, when i graduated cosmetology school. thankfully after this cursed wednesday evening i was on my way to Matt and i’s house that we also share with his triplet brothers. i pull into the driveway and make my way to the door and unlocking it.

“Baby?” i yell walking up the steps.

“he’s been in his room playing video games streaming for like 4 hours” nick says shooting me a quick smile before looking back at his phone.

i knock softly on the door “jesus christ im streaming guys” matt slams his head set down on his table and opens the door “Wha- oh my god Y/N i’m so sorry i thought it was one of them” he says quickly changing his tone giving me a soft peck on the lips.

“it’s fine” i breath out giving him a smile walking into his room.

“tell the stream Hi, baby” he pulls my hand into frame making me force a smile onto my face.

“hi everyone” i awkwardly wave to his camera watching the chat go absolutely crazy when i entered.

“okay well i’m gonna end this cause the mother of my future kids just got here” he says making a smile appear on my face.

he ends the stream and turns around facing me almost analyzing me.

“why do you keep looking at me like that?” i roll my eyes and make my way to our shared closet pulling out a pair of his sweats and a T shirt of his.

he walks towards me leaning against the door frame “all of your clothes in that closet and you still choose to wear mine, but to answer your question you seem off” he says softening his tone.

“i’m fucking fine matt, damn, all on my ass for nothing” i groan out pushing him out of my way and falling on the bed scrolling on my phone.

“umm okay” he huffs sitting down next to me on the bed “so how was work?” he says breaking the silence of tiktok playing in the background.

i groan “it was long i guess” i place my phone on the bedside table and turn towards him.

“you guess?” he questions giving me a soft smile.

“find it was so dreadful, answering calls from people who can look up these answers on google, and oh my god i had this karen come in and” i laugh softly “and she literally accidentally tried this hair mask and fried half her hair and blamed it on me, knowing i’m just the front desk representative, then on top of all of that this lady yelled at me for eating carrots at the front desk” i say while he’s staring at me passionately listening to everything i have to say.

“did you say anything to that lady who yelled at you?” he asked while looking in my eyes as passionately as he can.

“my manager heard her yelling at me calling me ‘unprofessional and rude’ and ended up almost calling the cops on her for causing a disturbance” i smile back at him.

“well it sounds like to me you need a little distraction from your long day at work eh?” he smirks leaning into me as i playfully roll my eyes and lean into him crashing his lips onto mine smiling into his kiss.

he softly places his hand on my cheek pointing his tongue out a little begging to explore my mouth, i slightly open my mouth as his tongue dives into my mouth immediately taking dominance from my tongue and intertwining with mine. his hand travels from my cheek to my breast giving my bare breast a gentle squeeze causing a soft whimper to escape my lips. his hand travels down to my waist and toying with the waistband of my his sweatpants.

“can i?” matt pulls away and softly asks me.

i smile and playfully roll my eyes “yes matt you can”

he carefully crawls on top of me tapping my waist as a signal to lift my hips up. he pulls my pink lacy underwear and pants down together in one throwing them on the other side of the room.

“such a pretty pussy” he says softly running his slim fingers in between my wet folds collecting my arousal onto his fingers “and so wet” he smirks back up at me.

“matt” i drag his name out in a whine, “please don’t tease me” i stare desperately into his eyes through my eyelashes.

“Only because you asked so nicely my love” he smiles at me leaning down and starts placing mouth kisses directly into my clit flicking upwards with his tongue.

“Oh fuck Matt” I moan out placing my hand on top of his head and pulling at his hair causing him to grunt through my pussy sending vibrations through me.

“You like this hm?” he smiles and shoves his fingers into my hole curving them slightly upward and making me go absolutely insane.

“Yes!” I chant repeatedly.

My walls tighten around his fingers and my clit spasms between his teeth. “Someone’s close eh?” he smirks leaning his head upwards while moving his fingers in and out while reaching my sensitive clit with his thumb making figure 8 movements around my bud.

“S-so close Matt” I cry out arching my back off the bed and rolling my eyes back.

“Uh-huh? You close?” he taunts smiling at me and immediately thrusts his fingers into me touching my G-spot so easily.

“YES- FUCK MATT” My hips twitched upwards “FUCK I'M GONNA CUM” I scream out bucking my hips up.

“Come on baby, cum for me” his voice softens looking down at me coming unglued from just his fingers with amusement in his eyes.

With just his words, the knot in my stomach broke and cum dripped down from me and onto his fingers.

He lightly tapped my leg “I ain't done with you just yet, sweetheart” he said smirking at me.

“Matt I don't know if I can take another one..” I said out of breath still coming down from my very intense orgasm.

“You know your safe word, Y/N,” he says ripping his shirt off. “And you never have to be afraid of using it, I'll stop immediately you know this.” he pulls his sweatpants and boxers off in one freeing his hard cock and slapping his stomach.

he crawls over me placing my legs on either side of his hips and slowly agonizing using his tip to slide through my wet folds teasing me.

“Matt,” i whine “please fuck me”

“Patience sweet girl, patience” he smiles at me slapping his cock on my clit and making me jerk upwards and squeal.

He slowly puts his tip into me then removes it and slowly enters it again and removes it before roughly bottoming out into me gripping the headboard for support making his knuckles white.

“Oh Matt” i moan out.

He rolls his hips deeper into me smirking down at me “You like this hm? God, you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, and taking it so fucking well” he groans out.

My legs wrap around his waist forcing his body to get deeper each time he pushes himself into me making my eyes roll back into my head causing me to see starts, My moans become hoarse from the strain on my voice.

“Aww has my gorgeous whore gone dumb? Can't talk? What happened to all that attitude you had earlier?” he grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Uh huh, uh huh” i bite my lower lip and nodding vigorously.

“Words or I stop” he thrusts his hips deeper into me and maintains his violent thrusts.

“YES MATT FUCK- RIGHT FUCKIN THERE” I finally answer him with a strain in my voice.

My response only made him thrust into me deeper and faster. My cervix spasms around his cock signaling how close i am making a long groan exit from his lips. “Hold it”

He rolls his hips and pounds his hips into mine “Matt” I drag out his name with a moan.

“Come on, you got it” he nods his head continuing to thrust and abuse my cervix.

“S-so f-fucking close” I whisper scream out.

“Cum” he buries his head into my neck moving his hips in a way that kisses my cervix making me release all over his cock creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

His thrusts become sloppier as he releases into me painting my once pink walls a nice white color and slowly pulling out watching a mixture of his cum and mine slowly fall from my hole.

He vaults to his bathroom quickly so no one catches a glimpse of him or me in our naked state to grabs a warm cloth and slowly runs it down my legs cleaning him and me up before lying next to me placing my head on his chest.

“I'm sorry for the attitude I had earlier, I just had a rough day and shouldn't have taken it out on you,” I say “Thank you for lighting my mood up” I smile facing the TV drawing small circles on his stomach.

“Hey don't worry about it, we all got bad days baby, I'm just glad you're good now, that's all that matters to me” he softly says running his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp and falling fast asleep in Matts arms.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N Pt 2: HEY LOVES!! Sorry I haven't been so active in trying to recover from being violently hungover for the last 2 days LMFAOO… I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY!! i promise ill be active more!!

[megamett44-lover]

what if you write a fic about the triplets and the reader going through a drive thru - but - the reader gets ketchup on their burger. when the triplets and reader get to the sturniolo house to hang out afterwards, matt and reader are hanging out and matt gives the reader a kiss. since the reader had ketchup before, he's trying to ignore it and like trying to hide it because he doesn't want to hurt her feelings but she ends up finding out anyways- and just finds it hilarious. (it could be an established relationship or they confess and then kiss, whichever you think works better)

love your works and take your time writing this one <33

thank you sm 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Matt Sturniolo × Reader

Summary: In which a trip down memory lane leads to a confession

Warnings/Notes: Profanity, she/her pronouns

Requested? Yes!

First Kiss

It was exactly 12:02 a.m. when my phone pinged with an incoming text message. I push my textbooks off my lap and roll over to grab my phone. A simple “Come outside” from Matt is at the top of my notifications.

“This kid and his ominous texts.” I laugh, putting on my slippers.

Locking my apartment and making my way downstairs, I notice the minivan parked in front of the building.

“Hey Y/N!” Chris screams as he pops his head through the sunroof.

“Shut up!” I whisper-shout. “There are people who are actually sleeping in there and I don’t feel like getting evicted my first month here!”

Walking to the drivers side, I open the back door to see Madi and Nick.

“Hey guys.” I say, getting in and sitting on the floor between Nick and Madi.

“Hey girl.” Madi says.

“Were you asleep? You look exhausted.” Nick notes.

“Gee thanks.” I roll my eyes playfully. “I was actually studying for my test tomorrow.”

“Gross school.” Chris comments.

“Very gross.” I groan. “Not that I don’t love you guys or anything, but why am I here?”

“You need a break from being holed up in your tiny ass apartment.” Chris says.

“And we missed you.” Madi adds.

“So we’re going to Mcdonald’s.” Matt says, backing out of the parking lot.

“Oh I’d kill for a big mac right now.” I say, mouth watering at the idea.

“And we may or may not be filming a little.” Nick says, referring to the camera in his lap. “If you don’t want to be in it, that’s totally fine too!”

“That’s fine.” I say. “But I look like a homeless rat.”

“You don’t look like a homeless rat.” Matt says.

“Yeah, you look like a rat with a very nice apartment.” Chris jokes.

“I actually hate you.” I mumble as everyone laughs.

Pulling into the McDonalds drive through, Nick orders for everyone. We get our food and find a secluded parking lot and set up to film.

Taking a bite from my burger, I sigh. “This burger is so fucking good.”

“It’s not that serious, Y/N.” Chris laughs.

“I haven’t had McDonalds in forever.” I protest. “It is that serious.”

“Alright, we asked you guys to send in some things you want us to talk about from our childhood, so we’re going to be doing that.” Nick says.

“Oh God.” I groan, closing my eyes. “This is going to be embarrassing.”

“Why?” Madi asks.

“Because Y/N used to be a dork.” Chris laughs.

“Okay at least I didn’t sleep in a Pokémon onsie until I was 12.” I say.

“That was me!” Matt says.

“Oh I know.” I laugh.

Nick looks down at his phone, pulling up Instagram to check the answers from his story. “What’s one injury you remember from childhood?”

“Probably the time Justin hit me with a golf club.” Matt says.

“That was terrifying.” I say. “I remember Nick running to my house in his underwear freaking out because he didn’t like blood.”

“Oh my God, I forgot about that.” Nick says. “Your mom was so confused.”

“Mine was probably when Chris pushed me off of the monkey bars at school and I got a concussion.” I say, taking a french fry from the bag.

“I did not push you!” Chris exclaims.

“You most definitely did.” Matt corrects.

“Yeah because I just so happened to fall off of the monkey bars.” I say sarcastically.

“You were clumsy.” Chris says.

“Matt witnessed it!” I say, throwing a fry at Chris.

“Yeah, you were mad because she cut in front of you in line, so you pushed her off.” Matt explains.

“Whatever.” Chris grumbles.

“One time, Y/N was yelling at me to come downstairs and I fell because someone put oil on the top step.” Nick says.

“In my defense, it was Chris’ idea.” I say.

“Yeah that was me, I’ll admit that.” Chris says.

“You were a demon, oh my God.” Madi laughs.

“He still is.” Matt agrees.

“Oooo what do you think about this one, Y/N?” Nick asks, showing me his phone.

Someone had wrote “Tell us about your first kiss!”

I genuinely start rolling laughing. “I don’t know, I don’t want your fan girls to hate me for this.”

“What is it?” Matt asks.

Nick responds by passing his phone up front to Matt and Chris. Matt reads it and his cheeks immediately turn red.

“Oh this is good!” Chris says. “I say Y/N and Matt goes first.”

Matt rolls his eyes and puts his face in his hands.

“Alright, so we’re going to be talking about our first kisses.” I say. “And mine just so happened to be with Matt.”

Madi gasps. “No way.” She laughs.

“Yes way.” I laugh with her. “We were like what, 13, 14, Matt?”

“I was in 8th grade and you were in 7th, so yeah that sounds right.” Matt says muffled through his hands.

“I was getting picked on because I was the only girl in my friend group who hadn’t had a first kiss yet and I was complaining to Matt about it.” I say.

“This is so cheesy.” Nick laughs.

“Shut up!” I laugh. “So I was complaining to Matt about it and he offered to be my first kiss. So we kissed. That’s it.”

“So wait, was she your first kiss too?” Madi asks Matt.

“Yeah, she was.” Matt answers.

“That’s so cute!” Madi exclaims.

“It was super awkward.” I say. “We made a promise to never talk about it again, until now, I guess.”

“Matt did not abide by that promise.” Nick says.

“Yeah, kid would not shut up about it for like 6 months after it happened.” Chris agrees.

“Okay, yeah, yeah. It’s y’all’s turn.” Matt says, clearly embarrassed.

“Aww Matt’s embarrassed.” Chris teases, poking Matt’s ribs. “He had a little cwushy-wushy on Y/N.”

“Hey, you tried to kiss me in kindergarten!” I say, pointing to Chris. “I had almost forgot about that!”

“It was a dare!” Chris says.

“Don’t worry guys, I didn’t kiss Chris because he had cooties.” I laugh.

“I did not have cooties!” Chris says. “You were the one who made that up and told everyone!”

“I only made it up because you pushed me off the monkey bars!” I say.

“I didn’t push you!” Chris yells.

“Yes you did!” Matt and I say at the same time.

“Uh oh, not the couple ganging up on me!” Chris throws up his hands dramatically.

“Alright, cootie boy.” I roll my eyes.

“You know what?” Chris says, practically launching himself into the backseat trying to tickle me.

“Madi help!” I scream, trying to deflect Chris as much as possible.

“You guys are actually children.” Nick says.

“Oh you want some too, big dog?” Chris says, shifting his attention to Nick.

“Chris!” Nick screams, almost dropping his Dr.Pepper on him.

The rest of the video goes off without a hitch. By the time we were finished filming, it was 2:30 a.m.

“Madi is gonna stay with us tonight, you wanna just stay at ours?” Nick asks, packing up the camera.

“C’mon, Y/N!” Chris says. “It’ll be just like old times.”

“I can never say no to a sleepover.” I laugh. “Count me in.”

“Thank God, I’ll need some female energy in that house.” Madi says, dapping me up.

As we drove back to the triplets house, I had noticed Matt was extra quiet. I put it off as being tired, but the way I kept catching him look at me in the rear view mirror made me think otherwise.

Pulling into the house, we all piled out and made our way inside.

“Goodnight, everyone.” Nick says, venturing off to his room.

Madi hugged me. “See you in the morning!” She says, following behind Nick.

“Where you sleeping, Y/N?” Chris asks. “You know my rooms always open.”

I laugh. “No offense, Chris, but you won’t be going to sleep for another three hours and I’m exhausted.” I flop down on the couch, pulling a blanket over me. “I’ll just sleep here.”

“No way.” Matt says. “You do not have to sleep on the couch. You can stay in mine if you want?”

Chris laughs, making kissy noises as he walks downstairs to his room.

“Jesus, that kid.” I laugh. I look over at Matt, who is looking at me with expectant eyes. “Yeah, I’ll sleep in your room, if that’s cool?”

“Mi casa es su casa.” Matt says, walking down the hall to his room.

“Okay, Flo-Rida.” I say, following him.

Matt flops down on the bed, throwing a pillow over his face. Walking over, I yank the pillow off of him.

“Hey!” He protests.

I sit down beside him. “Okay, spill.” I demand.

Matt looks at me quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Ever since I talked about our kiss, you’ve been acting weird. Spill.” I say.

“I haven’t.” Matt says. “I’m just tired.”

“Mhm.” I say. “I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” Matt rolls his eyes.

“Just don’t.” I shrug. I roll over to the other side of the bed, getting under the blankets.

Matt flips the lights off, before joining me in bed.

“Goodnight, Matt.” I say, rolling over to face him.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Matt says, pulling the blankets over him as well.

It’s silent for about 5 minutes, and I feel myself starting to doze off, when suddenly, the weight in the bed shifts. I open my eyes to see Matt sitting up beside me.

“Matt, what’re you-” I start.

“I like you, Y/N.” Matt blurts out.

I blink my eyes really hard to make sure I’m not dreaming and I shake my head.

“Ever since we were kids, I’ve liked you.” Matt says. “The feelings would come and go, and I really tried to make them go for the sake of our friendship, but I really, really like you, Y/N.”

Matt looks back at me as I stare wide-eyed at him. “Really?” I whisper.

“Why do you think I volunteered to be your first kiss?” Matt asks. “Chris wasn’t lying when he said I talked about that kiss for 6 months. He wasn’t lying when he said I had a crush on you. I could just…never find the right time to tell you.”

I sit up beside Matt, grabbing his hand. “I really wish you would’ve told me sooner.” I say.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Matt says. “You don’t know how much it killed me to see you with other guys, Y/N. That shit was so unbearable.”

It’s silent for a moment before Matt sighs deeply.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I really do. But I just had to tell you so-” I cut Matt off by placing my lips on his.

Feeling his lips against mine, suddenly I’m 13 again in Boston having my first kiss with my best friend. His hands find the sides of my face and it’s like the world stopped spinning. It’s like everything around us has faded away and it’s just us.

We pull away slowly, each of us gasping for air.

“I don’t know where I got the balls to do that.” I whisper. I open my eyes to notice Matt grimacing a bit.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, no. Nothings wrong.” Matt says, grabbing my hand.

“No, something is definitely wrong.” I say.

Matt turns a little red before looking at his lap. “It’s just…was there ketchup on your burger earlier?”

“Yeah…?” I say, confused. And then it suddenly makes sense. I throw myself back into the bed, dying in a fit of laughter. “Oh my God!” I laugh, gasping for air.

I sit up, looking at Matt. “I am so sorry.” I say, still laughing.

“It’s okay.” He says, smiling. “I’ll taste ketchup every day as long as it’s from your lips.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re so corny.”

“Maybe.” He smiles. “So is it safe to say you feel the same?”

“Don’t make me kiss you with my ketchup breath again, Matthew.” I say.

“Is that a promise?” Matt asks, slowly pulling me back into another kiss.

a/n: help this is one of the longest stories I’ve written. but if I were to make a tag list, who would want to be added to it???

[ishipallthings]

Cap Iron Man Rec Week 2024 (Mon)

Better Together Monday - July 22nd for @cap-ironman Rec Week

Very excited for Rec Week, hope you guys have fun too!

Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!

Kludged Together by Veldeia @veldeia (MCU)

When he cut his morning jog short to join Tony Stark on a reconnaissance mission off the East Coast, Steve sure wasn’t expecting to end up stuck on a life raft in the middle of the ocean, his hand knuckle-deep in Stark's chest.

Even the Light is an Illusion by Mizzy (MCU)

Death threats are an unfortunate side-effect of being Tony Stark, so he's learned to ignore them. The problem is, when someone really wants you dead, hiding your head in the sand just kinda exposes your ass. But it's not just Tony's behind on the line. Whoever wants him dead wants him to suffer first, and they're willing to do anything to make that happen. Tony knows there's only one way out. To save Steve, the Avengers, and the general public, Tony has to die. Of course, death isn't always the end, and Tony does what any other self-disrespecting scientist would do: he finds a way to fake his death and avenge his own murder. The trouble is, terrible decisions usually have a terrible price, and this one is no different. Tony has a chance to save the day, but the cost may be more than Tony was ever expecting to pay…

Should You Choose to Accept It by elwenyere @elwenyere (MCU)

After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right?

the things we invent when we are scared by nanasekei @elcorhamletlive (MCU, post-CA:CW)

Steve is trapped in a dream machine, programmed to make him believe he's living his happiest fantasy. Tony goes inside to wake him up, but what he finds is a lot more complicated than he expected.

i was put together wrong by suchmadnesss @suchmadnesss (MCU, post-EG)

Even in his anger, in his misjudgment, or even in the barest glimpses of inadvertent cruelty, everything Tony did was with passion. No matter what, he was always graceful, grandiose, effusive. Incandescent. Tony grows in front of the cameras and keeps a world of expectations balanced on the tightrope of his shoulders, but nothing ever seems to be enough. The hubris is a fallacy and the smirk Steve had always known to be a front isn’t whimsy, as he’d expected; instead, it’s bred. As he follows a couple of his steps, Steve feels as Tony does, which is to say: intensely. Every happiness is a marvel, every pain is acute. The higher they fly, the harder they fall. (In which the stones beckon Steve into a glimpse of Tony's past, and it proves to be his unraveling.)

What You Don't Know by Sineala @sineala (Noir)

In 1941, two strangers meet in a bar. And then Captain America meets Iron Man. And then Steve Rogers meets Tony Stark. They get it right. Eventually. And also they fall out of an airplane.

Let My Hands Do the Soothing by Sineala @sineala (616)

Steve's always been determined to do the right thing, and when Tony is in more trouble than ever, he doesn't hesitate. Severely wounded by multiple attempts on his life, framed for an attack he never committed, Tony is on the run from the government, ready to hunt down the villain responsible and make him pay. But he doesn't have to do it alone. Steve is there for him. But keeping Tony in one piece is harder than Steve thought it would be, and caring for Tony is bringing up feelings that are difficult to keep buried…

and a self rec!

ever be afraid to say by ishipallthings (MCU, EG canon-divergent)

Steve sees it happening a moment just before it does, Tony snapping on the Gauntlet and facing Thanos head-on, eyes bright and ever-defiant. And Steve—Steve’s heart falls to his feet. No.

Hope you guys enjoy the recs, and stay tuned for more! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | todoroki s.

Todoroki’s route of soulmate trope.

Wow, you sure seem to be injuring yourself more than usual. That can't be related to anything significant.

warnings: extremely mild self-harm. secondhand embarrassment.

~11k words. Female reader.

When you’d first woken up in Recovery Girl’s office after inhaling the pink dust, you’d had a massive headache. You’d not recalled hitting your head in the first place, and though Recovery Girl had been able to heal all of your other wounds from the attack, the headache had remained.

 It still ached.

 Now it didn’t feel as intense as a migraine, and instead it had settled and cosied into a topical, surface-level sort of pain, and though it certainly hurt less, it didn’t mean you could ignore it.

 Constant, unignorable pain throbbed throughout your head, practically in miniscule, irksome waves (world’s worst beach). If you really concentrated on something, then you could numb yourself to the pain and almost zone out of it.

 You spoke to Recovery Girl about living with chronic pain, since she couldn’t heal you, and after spending time in office hours with her, you deduced that the pain most likely had to do with your soulmate. Somehow. Maybe when you first meet your soulmate, he’ll punch you in the face?

 But then, randomly, while you were baking in the dorm, your calf felt like it was burning, fucking boiling, and you plopped to the kitchen floor, rolling up your jeans to expose the area—to reveal completely unaltered skin with no suggestion of a blemish or wound. Yet it was scorching, and running it under water didn’t help whatsoever; the burning continued for around fifteen minutes—and you were biting your lips so hard that it bled, clutching your calf and sobbing silently on the floor in the dorm kitchen. Until it somewhat subsided—a sudden sensation of ice pressing against it.

 When it was over, the pain lingered without scar, and it had you hiding a limp as you walked to class.

 From then on, you took extra care to keep your body from physical harm. Being overly cautious in hero training (hindering your offensive moves, to be honest), staying in your dorm instead of going out, eating foods that weren’t difficult to digest, frequenting Recovery Girl to talk—which really cut into your time working with Present Mic on his radio show, but he waved it off.

 The odd nick and cut still showed up, mostly on your hands. Shinsou asked if you’d adopted a cat, and you wished. Instead, you’ve got a soulmate who may be trying to kill you.

 ***

 Aizawa was leading you up the bleachers to the commentators’ box when it struck you that you were an idiot.

 “I’m an idiot,” you said, smacking a hand to your forehead and stopping with one foot halfway up the next stair.

 Brow furrowed, Aizawa looked over his shoulder, opened his mouth, closed it, and kept digging in his pockets for the box keys. “So long as you’re not an idiot on mic, I think you’ll be fine,” he said, once he’d jammed the key into the lock.

 “No, Aizawa-sensei, I’m a big idiot,” you said, walking through the box door he held open and ran a hand through your hair, “I think I’ve just realised something about my soulmate bond.”

 Aizawa got to work flipping on lights and the sound system. “Do you need to go to Recovery Girl or sit out this practise?”

 “Ah, hm.” You bit the inside of your cheek and unfolded the chair, setting it in front of the primary microphone. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got to work through a few things, but, uh. I can still commentate.”

 “All right,” he said, nodding, “Yamada-sensei wants you to make your fight narrative more focused—more description of what’s actually happening rather than speculation, even though he should be working on that himself.” Aizawa tossed the keys on the desk next to the stadium light system controls, and he headed for the door. “Try not to swear on mic this time.”

 “Wait, Aizawa-sensei? Who’s working camera today?”

 His hand paused on the door handle. “Should be Monoma and Ashido.”

 “Cool. Thanks,” you said, shooting him a thumbs-up as he left. Monoma and Mina working camera—that means you’ll get lots of close-ups looking for faults from Monoma and wide-angle, big-picture shots from Mina—though she should give up on the Dutch angles. Fine. That’s a fine balance.

 After checking the lights and sound system, you turned the knob for the primary microphone (volume way down from where Yamada-sensei liked it). “Greetings and salutations, sports fans—” You liked to start off your commentary with a little joke, since it was just 3-A and 3-B listening, and not even all of them at that—supplementary training didn’t scratch everyone’s backs. “—once again coming to you from a cramped, commentary box, we are live in our commentary of our first team battles of the semester. Right now, if we focus on the playing field in front of us, you’ll see nothing, as everyone is still getting costumes on and not even outside yet. But we wait in salivary anticipation as our fellow students enter the stadium to discover what teams they’ll be playing on. Until then, please enjoy these sounds of ambient nature.”

 You turned off the microphone and sat back in your folding chair. Announcing for an empty stadium—besides Aizawa, you supposed, as he trudged back down to the field—was when you got your warm-up, testing out what sort of adjectives you’re feeling today. As Yamada-sensei advised, your goal was always to make Aizawa cringe. Frankly, you thought you got there with the usage of salivary, but—

 You’re an idiot.

 Use this time to think about your soulmate, dipshit.

 Connecting the dots took playing an otome game under your desk in the previous class. In it, the heroine was patching up the route’s love interest after a gunfight, and amidst the florid (but fluttery), cheesy (but so cute!) prose about feelings and his rippling pectorals, there had been a line about how the heroine loved him so much that it was as if she could feel the gunshot through her own tit.

 Well, she didn’t say tit, but—the point—

 Feeling his physical pain. Sharing it.

 It made a hell of a lot more sense than whoever-he-was punching you in the face when you first met. It would explain the frequent injuries—why they kept coming over and over—along with why the pain kept coming, since hero course idiots like yourself hurt yourselves almost constantly. For a moment, you considered punching your soulmate when you met him, as a joke, but then—you’d feel it, too, most likely. Really, you’d like to find some industrial strength painkillers for the both of you. This ache pulsing in your head—his head—needed to be alleviated.

 So, now, the plan: hurt yourself in very specific ways so that your soulmate has the same injuries. And, judging by how you’ve got a perfect view of all your classmates, complete with camera zoom, you’re in a good spot for it.

 You flipped the microphone knob again. “As the first of our classmates who have perfected the art of getting in costume walk onto the field, allow me to remind you that I am filling in for our glorious and verbose sensei, Presentation Michael, for totally unbiased commentary on today’s matches.”

 Grinning, you stuck your tongue out at Bakugou, even though he couldn’t see you. He’d shot the commentary box a disgusted look and had shaken his head, hanging off to the side of the field with Kirishima and Sero.

 When teams were announced, you decided you’d hurt yourself then when their attention was definitely on something else, and therefore, they’d react genuinely to the pain. Sweet. Solid plan.

 Wait, how are you going to hurt yourself? It can’t be too bad, because 1) that’d be mean, and 2) you also have to concentrate enough to see how everyone reacts. Eh, you’ll wing it.

 “Now that all of those participating in the team battles are prepared and on the field waiting for assignments,” you said, pulling the mic towards you and zooming in on the bottom of your system screen, “we all wait for our brilliant, talented, eclectic, beautiful sensei to get off his phone to announce the teams.”

 Stowing away his phone, Aizawa addressed the group, and you sat on the edge of your seat, your hand raised (for what?). “Team one,” said Aizawa, “is Asui—”

 Okay, she’s got a soulmate—

 “—and Bakugou.”

 You slapped yourself across the face, hard.

 Whimpering, you clutched the spot while hunching over in your stupid folding chair, missing Aizawa’s explanation of why they were paired together, and goddamn it, you missed Bakugou’s reaction. Footage, footage, yeah; there’s footage. You’re filming for Yamada-sensei. You’ll review it later—no! You want to know now!

 “Team two,” said Aizawa.

 You snapped back upright, blearily making yourself focus on the what’s going on down there and giving your cheekbone a final, indignant swipe. You raised your hand again, the opposite one this time.

 “Team two is Ojiro—”

 Safe. He’s matched.

 “—and Shinsou.”  

 You hit your other cheek, this time bracing yourself and clenching your teeth. Cursing yourself immediately afterwards—because if you don’t feel the pain, nor will he. Fuck.

 “Team three is—”

 Oh, God.

 “—Hagakure and Yaoyorozu.”

 Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do this.

 Amendment: you can do this well and correctly.

 Two more teams until you facepalmed so hard that you had a red splot on your forehead. Another two until you thought you’d bitten the tip of your tongue off (idiot!). Then four unmatched people all in a row led to four slams of your funny bone right onto the edge of the desk.

 Gasping, wheezing, and cradling your arm, you bitterly shook your head as the teams took their places, either on field or in the dugout. It just wasn’t fair, but you piddled it all into your jar of petty emotions and would have to deal with it later, since you were working.

 “Our first two-on-two battle for the morning is team seven, Kendo and Komori, versus team ten, Kirishima and Shoda, making for a battle centring around close melee combat, so long as you can keep breathing—teams two and eight on deck.” You zoned out enough to commentate without zest and flair (which went against your morals, but still) but still throw your mind elsewhere.

 Ugh, well. Your soulmate didn’t react to a single fucking thing, provided he was somewhere in the crowd. Either your soulmate gets off on being beaten up, or you’re wrong about the soulmate method, or he… You frowned, but you tried not to let it creep into your voice as you commentated. If you’re not wrong and he’s not into getting hurt sexually, then…then your soulmate is so used to pain that it’s become normal to him. That physical pain is just part of his everyday life.

 You rubbed at your eye, where a good bit of the constant headache settled. This was shit, and you’d only been living with it for a few weeks. If your soulmate lived with this constantly, well, then—step one, wrap him in blanket. Step two: kiss on forehead. Step three: hot choccy for the boy.

 Oh, shit, you’re working.

 “And that’s Tokoyami coming in for the final swoop,” you found yourself saying, “Can’t get it, can’t get it? And he does, swiping the feet out from underneath Jirou there, meaning that Tokoyami is the last one standing. Team Four wins!” You sat back in your chair, flicking off the knob so that you could huff agitatedly. A fair number of matches had gone by in a blip, and you didn’t even know what you’d said. Well, Aizawa hadn’t stormed up here telling you to stop cursing, so you supposed you’d been doing an acceptable job.

 “Next up, next up! Team one versus team nine, Asui and Bakugou versus Kouda and Todoroki. Judging by the patterns on Asui’s offence, we can—”

 God, your head hurts.

 “Aaaaand there’s Bakugou, Bakugou with the advantage, Bakugou with an overarching sweep shot, using the weight of his gauntlet as a crushing weapon in addition to that blast. Oof, ouch, scorching Kouda just over on his—”

 You made your mouth run a mile a minute, making yourself focus on the match instead of your soulmate and the ache.

 “Asui comes from below with the first true ranged attack of the match, but it doesn’t look like it hit its target; Todoroki managed to slip past yet again—”

 Blinking to stave away the irritation, you gave up and rubbed at your eye. It’s like it was getting worse, like, uh, you didn’t know—like smoke was rising into it.

 “It’s a close, close match; so far it could be anyone’s game, and, and Todoroki lands a focused ice strike to Bakugou’s core. He’s doubled over, taking a moment to threaten Todoroki—psychological warfare against your opponent in addition to physical, sometimes uncouth but still a worthy tactic, especially if it—oh, he’s—Bakugou’s shot a pissbaby look towards the commentary box, but he’s winding up and going for Todo—oh, Kouda! No, no, it's a feint; Bakugou was feinting—”

 And instead of inhaling, you screamed, louder than you ever have in your life, at the same time an A.P. shot burst into Todoroki’s stomach from less than a foot away.

 Like your skin melting and reforming on a fresh skeleton, like nothing mattered between here and now and when but this burn, feeling nothing—no extremities, no celebrealities to take yourself away—nothing but this agony scorching its way through your stomach and cutting into you below your ribcage.

 As you lay crumpled on your back on the floor (when did you get there?), it far outweighed the ache on the left side of your face, and you woozily blinked through a few images that smeared together: the shitty fluorescents above you (too bright—you tried to hold a hand up to block them out, but you couldn’t lift your hand), Aizawa bursting through the box door to kneel next to you, and someone’s hands on you while you shuffled about on a thrilling variety of hard surfaces.

 ***

 You woke up with a dry mouth in Recovery Girl’s office. Been a while since you’ve been in one of the hospital beds; you’re even tucked in, and shit, and ooh, ouch, oof, don’t sit up so fast. It makes your stomach—oh my god TODOROKI.

 Where is the fucker? Where’s that handsome basta—ah. The bed next to you. Reading some shonen manga you didn’t recognise.

 You tried to be stealthy when you flipped onto your side to face him, but you couldn’t escape the involuntary grunt of pain.

 Todoroki’s eyes flicked to you, holding his book still.

 “Hi,” you said, swinging your legs around to dangle them off the side of the bed, “I think we should make out.”

 Todoroki blinked. Twice. He reached for his bookmark and started to rise from the hospital bed.

 “What? Where are you go—jokes. It was a joke,” you said, watching with horror as he stood and walked away from the patient area, “I’ve got jokes all week. I’ve got jokes forever.” Your voice died out when he filled a paper cup at the sink, and Todoroki returned steadily towards you to hand you the cup. His fingers grazed yours, and you jolted, though Todoroki, cool as you please, merely blinked sleepily.

 He gave a careful nod towards it. “Drink. You were breathing through your mouth while you slept.”

 Oh, God, did that count as pain and therefore transfer to him? Did—nope, you’re not going to worry about that. There are worse things. You brought the cup to your lips to stifle the impulse to ask him to spit in your mouth.

 After a few swallows, you—fuck, he’s too close and too good-looking to look him in the eye for this—stared into your water and said, “So. We’re soulmates. Have you told Recovery Girl yet?”

  “We’re soulmates?” asked Todoroki, sounding alarmed.

 Your head whipped towards him, and his (fucking gorgeous) eyes widened, his broad shoulders stiff. Good God, he didn’t know, and now he’s going to be fucking repulsed by you. He deserves someone cooler, more graceful, more—

 Todoroki cautiously sat near you on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight, and your brain emptied. He was so close; you could feel his excessive warmth coming from his left side, and he’s so fucking—he. He could take that elegant hand between you on the mattress and wrap it around your shoulders right now, pulling you close with those lean, lithe muscles, and oh, God, he could make you feel so safe—

 And.

 Fuck.

 Since your first year, you’ve acknowledged in the back of your head that Todoroki was essentially the ideal man (complete with power and talent and a gentleness that aches), but since he’s liked by basically anyone with sense in the school, you’ve packed any shred of affection away, folding it into a cardboard box and shoving it into the back of your mental closet.

 It feels like the box has spontaneously combusted.

 But no, fuck, you saw that look on his face. He doesn’t want you—and that makes sense, since…y’know. You’re you. You haven’t attracted anyone—God, how embarrassing that the only way someone is going to look at you potentially romantically is from a fucking soulmate accident.

 Todoroki shifted, his expression taut. “How do you know we’re soulmates?”

 Right. He’d like to get out of it. You won’t lie to him. “By the way we’ve been sharing each other’s pain,” you said with a sigh, “Didn’t you notice we’re in Recovery Girl’s office for the same injury? Getting hit by Bakugou? And…and you must have burnt your calf a few weeks ago; that had me collapsing in the dorm kitchen and overcooking my eggs, and you’ve got this nasty, constant headache, which has got to be—” You were going to say aggravating, but you realised it yourself when you looked back at him. “—your scar.”

 His brow furrowed in thought, Todoroki tapped his fingers on his thigh, and he nodded.

 “Hang on,” you said, screwing up your face, “I was—I kept hitting myself during the team selection, trying to find you. You never reacted.”

 Todoroki turned his head towards you slowly, and under his slowly blinking gaze, you were frozen. “I didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary.”

 You let out a weak, incredulous laugh. “You didn’t think—didn’t you feel it?”

 Todoroki ducked his head, staring at his hand on your sheets. “Since the soulmate incident, my scar hasn’t hurt as much. The skin hasn’t been as sensitive, and I don’t get headaches as often. I’ve been able to concentrate. To relax.” He pinched the fabric and let it fall. “When I’ve trained, it’s as if I could go forever, as if the blows that fall don’t mean as much.” His eyes turned up to you again, pinning you. He’s got to stop doing that so suddenly. “It must have been you taking the pain away.”

 Huh. You hadn’t considered. “So, you think we’re splitting the pain between us, not that we just both feel the pain.”

 Todoroki nodded. “Look at how Bakugou hurt us. We should be much worse off from a close-range shot,” he said, raising the hem of his shirt.

 You slapped a hand over your eyes, taken off-guard by the abrupt reveal of the lower half of his tightly muscled abdomen, but you slotted your fingers to peek through. “You’re—you’re right,” you said, feeling saliva build in your mouth. You pulled the move into rubbing one of your eyes, the one that kind of itched—it’s the one with his scar. “Does your scar always itch like this?”

 He hummed. “Less now, but still enough.”

 Your hand fell to your lap. “Are you…always in pain? Does it always hurt?”

 “You can answer that.”

 Fuck. The school’s powerful, pretty boy lived in constant pain, and he never said a word. “May I ask how you got it? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

 Todoroki was silent for a moment, and then he said, “Do you know about quirk marriages?”

 “Refresh me?”

 “Quirk marriages are arranged between those with compatible quirks to hopefully manipulate the quirks of their children. My father sought this,” said Todoroki, “and, he would argue, that he failed three times, until me. I was sick a lot, when he trained me. Mom would try to help, and he’d—” He cut himself off, pinching his lips together. “Anyway. My mom lived with the pressure until she couldn’t. She thought I was him, and she poured boiling water on me. She’s getting better now,” he said with finality, leaning back on his hands on the bed and kicking his legs out.

 Uh. Holy fuck. How do you respond to that?

 Present Mic was always emphasising the importance of word choice.

 Steeling yourself, you reached for one of his hands, taking it firmly, even though it threw him off balance for a moment. He adjusted quickly, his fingers easily guided by you to lace between yours. “Todoroki,” you said, making yourself stare him in his eyes, “Let’s kill your father.”

 His lips parted, Todoroki straightened himself hastily. He clamped his other hand over yours, and with a wide, earnest expression, he said, “We shall have a winter wedding.”

 You snorted and squeezed his hand (his hand! Which you were holding!). “Sure. Yeah, Todoro—”

 “Please call me Shouto,” he said, scooting closer to you on the bed and squeezing back, “I would like to hear your thoughts. Have you considered this before?”

 Killing Endeavour? Yeah. Who hasn’t? Ah, ha, hold up. Maybe that’s not a normal thought you should be having about one of the biggest heroes in—fuck it, he’s a rat bastard of an abusive father. Die, bitch.

 Still, it’s nice that Todoroki wanted this, too. Validating. “You wanna make an event out of it?”

 He smiled—and it’s so gentle in a charming sort of way that your first instinct is to turn away, like you’re not worthy to look at him. But hey, he’s yours to look at now.

 “Only if you want to,” he said, his soft grin only growing wider.

 “I do,” you said, and for some reason, at those words, Todoroki ducked his head, the tips of his ears very red.

  ***

 Bakugou shouted across the classroom door the moment you opened the door. “Back from the infirmary, motormouth? Can’t believe you fucking screeched over the intercom.”

 Kayama-sensei paused mid-lesson, her whip still pointing towards the board.

 “And what of it, Bakugou?” you asked, stepping forward so that Todoroki could close the door behind you. “Did I make you lose a match?”

 Bakugou gritted his teeth. “As if someone like you could make me lose a ma—”

 “I won my match,” said Todoroki, taking your hand in his large, calloused one. (You were very startled by the physical contact and stared down at your joined hands, as if you were noticing that you had fingers for the first time.)

 Bakugou scowled. “The fuck do you—”

 “Todoroki’s your soulmate?!” Mina slammed her fist on her desk. “I’m literally wet with envy!” Kirishima immediately stopped chewing on the end of his pencil and reached for her.

 Midnight couldn’t get the class to calm down for a while, but, you supposed, they needed the noise. Todoroki escorted you back to your desk (your eye twitched at the tenderness), and when he returned to sit at his own, he couldn’t stop smiling to himself.

 ***

 “So, you’re Shouto’s soulmate!” Fuyumi hugged you before you could toe off your shoes near the Todoroki threshold. “You’re just as lovely as he described. Please, come in.”

 You exchanged a curious glance with Shouto while you unfurled your scarf, and as he hung up your coat for you, he was looking at you with a nearly unbearable fondness. You had to look away, feeling the heat rush to your face. God. Nothing had even happened yet, and you were already fucking overwhelmed.

 Natsuo was out, so it was supposed to be just the three of you at dinner. It had been a while since you’d eaten in a traditional setting, since dorm living had you grazing and cooking simple meals for yourself most of the time, so you were watching Shouto closely for any way you could possibly fuck up—and he seemed to notice and started to make his movements more obvious. You wouldn’t admit it, but you couldn’t even recognise some of the gourmet dishes Fuyumi had cooked—but all of it was fucking scrumptious; you eventually found yourself unable to compliment her coherently, because it all devolved into variations of “I’m going to cry. I’m weeping. I’m. Crying. Crying forever. I’ve never wanted to marinate myself in a sauce before.” Since you worked with Present Mic, you would have been embarrassed for being so inarticulate, but Fuyumi and you had warmed up to each other easily. She made you feel at peace.

 Well, that’s good. At least there’s one safe family member for Shouto to be around.

 (You had already met his mother, albeit briefly. You had been freaking out about what kind of gift you should bring her for your first meeting, but Shouto had simply put his hand on the small of your back (!!!) and told you that you didn’t need to feel any pressure.

 “She’s going to love you,” he’d said into your ear on the train ride to the hospital.

 “But how do you know?” The cool of the tin of tea you’d gotten anyway had seeped through your mittens.

 You had heard the self-satisfaction creeping into his voice—it was light, but it was there.  “My mother tends to feel the same way I do about people.”

 Shouto hadn’t laughed when you’d stuttered your way through a feeble, flustered defence before giving up, but he hadn’t needed to. You could see it in his eyes.)

 When Fuyumi left for the kitchen near the end of the meal after making you promise to try on some rings that had belonged to their grandmother, you scooted closer to Shouto. “Your dad should be showing up soon, right?”

 He nodded, closing his eyes as he swallowed his mouthful of water. “It’s past time for his patrol to end.” He set his glass on the table with a muted clink. “Are you sure about this? If you would prefer, we can retreat to one of the back rooms, or we can go back to campus.”

 You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s good to meet the enemy, yes? Plus, if he’s lured into a false sense of security around me, then it’ll be easier to get physically close to him when we fucking kill him.”

 Shouto laughed through his nose at that, and his expression softened (really incredible how soft the man can get when everything about him is so sharp: sharp features [especially that high-bridged nose and the unfairly pretty cheekbones], sharp gaze that seemed to notice everything about you, sharp and deliberate gestures and movement—his body’s all sharp angles and hard lines, and—your gaze fell to those fucking sharp collarbones barely peeking out of his button-up. Funny how your mouth can start to fucking water when you’ve just eaten Fuyumi’s cooking). Shouto propped an elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his fist, and he reached for your hand, hesitating just before touching it.

 When you nodded, he let out a heavy sigh and took it—for a moment you felt his normal body temperature before he began to heat his hand for your benefit. “He’s not going to like you,” Shouto said after a moment, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve whatever he’s going to say to you.”

 “Whatever he chooses to say will not affect me in the long run. I don’t need him to like me,” you said, proud of being able to speak while making physical contact.

 Shouto visibly swallowed (Ad—Adam’s apple…), his brow furrowed in thought.

 “What I do need,” you said, sitting up straighter, “is for him to not think of me as any sort of legitimate threat. That way he’ll let me get close enough to shave off his eyebrows in his sleep.”

 A wide smile spread across Shouto’s face, and he had to look away this time. Score.

 Fuyumi returned from the kitchen with multiple tiny plates balanced on a tray. “Ta-da! Time for the tasting. We considered putting cubes of each selection into a cute little bento for Shouto to bring to school,” she was saying as she set around ten saucer-size plates in front of the both of you, “but Shouto convinced me that transportation and refrigeration might mess up the flavours. So! Most of these came from a bakery in the Takoba district, but two of them were made by me today.”

 Fuyumi had set about ten different slices of cake on the table, each plated a bit too stylishly for you to feel like you were allowed to eat them. You didn’t know if she’d drizzled raspberry sauce over that slice and arranged wedges of strawberries next to that one, or if the bakery did.

 Uh.

 “I won’t be offended in the slightest if you like a professional cake over either of mine; that’s to be expected.” Fuyumi grinned from across the table, now that she was settling down. “But I won’t say which ones I made until you’ve tried all of them! Shouto, if you can guess, I’ll make you cold soba the next time you’re home.”

 You were trying to shoot Shouto a look that said Why the fuck are we eating so many cakes and Is this how rich people have fun, but once his sister offered that, he had a laser-focus on the cakes in front of him.

 Shouto picked up both forks and held one out to you. “We have a new mission,” he said gravely.

 I mean, whatever. Sure. Pretty boy word choice go brrr.

 Shouto noticed your noticing a probable strawberry-flavoured cake (in contrast to all of those pale bitches who probably tasted like vanilla or almond) and silently passed it to you for you to stab a bite from it, and as he set it with a quiet clink in front of you, the front door slammed hard enough to shake the shoji dividers.

 It couldn’t be a coincidence that a sharp pang shot through where Shouto’s scar would be as his father’s heavy footsteps grew closer. Scowling, you rubbed your mirroring eye, massaging away whatever of the ache you could, and that’s how Endeavor first caught you when the shoji slid open.

 He’d given a cursory nod towards Fuyumi, his gaze dragging over Shouto before latching onto you, rubbing your eye with one hand and holding up your fork with the other. The corner of his mouth involuntarily twitched as he wrinkled his nose.

 You held your ground the best you could, glaring up at him while twirling your fork idly (seemingly idly, instead of the power play showing composure that it was). Endeavor’s beard flickered to life once you tilted your head at him, as if analysing him for the first time, and you squinted, his flames almost too bright to look at without hurting your eyes.

 After a beat, you sighed heavily, stabbing your fork into the cake. “Do you have any sunblock?” you asked Shouto with your mouth full.

 Judging by the sharp increase in shadows on the dividers, the flames surged behind you, the heat washing over your back.

 Todoroki took a bite of the same strawberry cake, holding a quiet, excited look with you.

 (You’ve noticed, recently, that Shouto makes a lot of little expressions only intended for you to see, how he’s started instantly glancing towards you for a secret sort of empathy and comradery. Shouto expressed himself in the thousands of tiny looks just for you, and while you loved the trust growing in your relationship, it also saddened you that he felt the need to hide these impulses from everyone else.)

 “Fuyumi,” Endeavor began, the floorboard shifting under his weight as he approached, “Again, you’ve failed to warn me that one of your friends was coming over.”

 Fuyumi held her hands up and laughed nervously. “She’s not exactly my—”

 “She’s my soulmate,” said Shouto, pulling a plate noisily towards him and gesturing for you to try it first, “Irreversibly so.”

 This cake tasted heavily of almond, but there was something under it—maybe rum extract?

 Endeavor’s glare bored into you. “Soulmate. So you are suffering from that villain attack.” His furrowed brow tightened. “What’s her quirk?”

 Either way, that was definitely buttercream frosting, though it would be more visually appealing if it and the cake weren’t all white.

 Shouto scowled. “Don’t speak to me, as if I’m her owner, as if she’s not in the room. You should ask her yourself.”

 You hadn’t even detected that disrespectful jab; you’d been too lost in considering recent trends for monochrome, minimalist design—and how that apparently had spread to the cake world, since most of these cakes were all white. It really emphasised how delightful a shitty sort of colourful maximalism was—those cute little bitches with the berries and fruits sauces drizzled over them were next on your tasting list.

 You finished chewing your bite and ignored Endeavor’s intensity the best you could. “I’m quirkless,” you said, lying through your teeth (Fuyumi openly looked confused, since you’d demonstrated your quirk earlier, but Shouto caught on right away). You turned away from Endeavor and to Shouto. “Have you figured out which ones Fuyumi baked yet?”

 Shouto was trying his best to not laugh (another thing that disheartened you: all too often Shouto hid signs of joy. You wanted to help him feel comfortable enough for joy to burst from him without fear). “I am not yet certain,” he said, moving all of the colourful, fruity slices closer to you, “I have my suspicions, though. Have any of them felt too professional to you?”

 “Shouto,” said Endeavor through gritted teeth, the breath from his harsh consonants making his flames flicker, “What have you done. Shackling yourself to someone who’s—”

 Endeavor then used a phrase that you, frankly, just didn’t understand, because you’d never heard it before. Evidently, it must have been some archaic insult specifically for quirkless people that Fuyumi and Shouto had heard their father use before; it was abominable enough for the drinks on the table to freeze over in a splintering path of ice from Fuyumi’s clenched fist in her lap.

 Shouto’s quirk didn’t flare. He instead shifted his jaw and very deliberately took your hand, lacing your fingers together and displaying them on the table between you.

 A few painful seconds passed, and Endeavor’s flames surged again. “How you’ve wormed your way into U.A. and my son’s life is unfathoma—”

 “I like this one,” you said, tapping the plate with around half of a chocolate-raspberry-drizzle slice remaining.

 Shouto took another bite out of it and nodded.

 Crossing his arms, Endeavor started to spit out another diatribe, but he cut himself off as Shouto brushed a stray crumb from the corner of your mouth.

  ***

 Shouto, his face flushed and besotted with a constant flow of tears, rounded the corner to the dorm kitchen, and when you straightened yourself up to look at him, he had even more questions.

 You had on a protective face mask and dark sunglasses at this time of night, and you, too, were crying, despite your attempt to block out the fumes. “Sorry,” you said, brandishing your knife, “I’m chopping onions. I guess the soulmate bond perceives this as pain.”

 “It’s okay,” said Shouto, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his face with, “What are you cooking?” He held out a towel so that he could wipe your face as well.

 “Holy shit.” You whipped off your sunglasses, and you held your onion-y hands at a distance while leaning into Shouto’s touch. “It’s only the best fucking French onion soup you will have in your life. Doesn’t even matter if you don’t like onions, because this is on a different level. The onions don’t melt in your mouth; they fucking evaporate. Your mind is going to be blown.”

 Shouto halted in his blotting away of your tears and snot. “You’d let me have some of your cooking?” He tossed the (very wet) paper towel in the rubbish bin.

 Nodding, you braced yourself before cutting into another onion. “Obviously. I know you just sort of collapse after your training sessions with Midoriya, and you deserve better than microwave ramen after that.”

 Shouto took a moment, and he placed a hand on his chest. “You’re cooking for me?”

 “Yes, Shouto. Of course. That why I chose to use words implying the intention. Context clues, my dude.” You scrunched up your face. “Scratch that. Context clues, my love.”

 Swallowing, he pressed two fingers to his wrist, counting his pulse. “I think I have to sit down for a bit,” he said, “I may pass out from the sheer tenderness of it all.”

 ***

 And so the semester crawled closer and closer to the end of the semester and therefore closer to the day of the assassination attempt, which would be over winter break. But each day was somehow a delight with someone permanently in your corner and waiting for you, someone learning how you live and what you like. It was odd to be studied but an embarrassing sort of pleasure to be known.

 Shouto was careful to avoid injuring himself, now, since beforehand, he didn’t exactly care about his own physical wellness. Now that you’re connected, it’s not that he’s become cautious but that he’s more intentional.

 You gave him a travel bottle of sunscreen with moisturiser to put on his scar in the mornings, since you’d done some research on how to care for scars, which apparently were more prone to heat sensitivity (how fucking ironic), stiffness, and itching. The two of you had done some experimenting to determine if the other felt how the other cared to the pain, and it turned out that relief was only found if the one who was originally injured did something about it. A damn shame, since you’d been wondering if you two could potentially heal each other from the sidelines or at a distance.

 (This led to an awkward week in which the both of you had a sunburn flecking skin off of your noses, but only Shouto could do something about it. No matter how much aloe vera you applied on your end, it only counted on his, since he’d gotten the sunburn in the first place. Mina took many photos.)

 Hanging out in his dorm room revealed how often Sero came to borrow volumes of manga (Sero got upset the time you hadn’t finished the volume he needed yet), how often Midoriya came to discuss classes and the upcoming work studies, and how often Kouda came to lend Shouto a cat for the afternoon, among others. Shouto lay, his head on your lap while you both were sprawled across the tatami mats, completely oblivious to how popular he was. You were learning a lot about your classmates through how much they valued their friendship with Shouto, and the fact that he was so loved outside of his own household made your heart ache—and you hoped he couldn’t feel it, too. Plus, hey, you got to pet a cat, and whenever you couldn’t, Shouto would send you pictures of the cat that day.

 (Usually, this was a chocolate-point cat named Dango, who, according to Kouda, absolutely adored Shouto and praised how calming Shouto’s presence was. She often curled up on Shouto’s left side, while you huddled up to his colder shoulder. Shouto thought the competition between you and Dango for his warmer side was wildly funny.)

 In class, it was wonderful to have someone to look to for a first reaction, for a moment of empathy, or to remind you that he’s still there. On a thirstier day than usual, since Shouto had stumbled into class with ruffled bed-head and a charmingly dishevelled uniform, Shouto’s careful gaze caught you staring at him. You hastily looked at your desk, heat rising to your face, but you chanced another glance at him. The smug bastard kept his eyes on Aizawa-sensei as he wrote on the board, but Shouto couldn’t suppress his self-satisfied little grin as he unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and surreptitiously pulled the collar down and to the side so that he could flash you his vexingly perfect collarbone. He knew your weakness, and now you had to sit in frustration for the rest of class. He had villainous qualities no one else could fathom.

 And you’d grinned to yourself before stifling it down: you knew him, too, in ways no one else knew about. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life learning more.

 ***

 He’s started referring to the day of his father’s assassination as the big day, so you’ve adopted it, too, revelling in its vagueness that let you talk about it in public. He’s been more theatrical about it than you thought, but more layers of his personality revealed himself to you the more time you spent with him.

 Today, the two of you had been staking out shrines as assassination locations, because there was something poetic about the bastard dying in a holy place. There’d been one last shrine that Shouto said couldn’t be the actual location, since it was shabby and small, but he wanted to take you to it today anyway—reasoning that it had a magnificent koi pond/river that you had to see.

 “Natsuo, after all, is into breeding carp,” said Shouto as he sat to cross his legs on the edge of the pond’s stone barrier.

 Natsuo? Into breeding? “Tell me more,” you said, “Why breeding carp?”

 Shouto gestured loosely. “That’s what I call it. It sounds more ridiculous than he’s helping out a friend with his koi dynasty. Carp sounds less elegant than koi.”

 “Misleading word choice to make people laugh is always appreciated,” you said, snapping your fingers as applause and setting your bags behind you so that you could freely lean over the pond’s surface, “What got him into it?”

 “It’s for Mom,” said Shouto, mirroring your position over the water, his shoulder bumping against yours, “Mom’s koi pond was destroyed by my father when we were in primary school, and Mom’s been too scared to start another one. Natsuo’s working with his friend to pick out high-quality koi for a pond my mom could have on her own.”

 “That’s sweet.” You poked your finger underneath the water and waited for a fish to nibble at it, but they scattered when you disturbed the water. “Horrible what your dad did, though. How do you tell a good koi from a bad one?”

 “Even now, I’m not sure.” Shouto dipped his fingers into the water as well, and he made a little icicle that the nearest fish started to inspect. “This one looks odd, though. As if he’s the fish form of an ancient wizard. The whiskers are oddly long.”

 Sure. “His name is Clog. In his spare time, he corresponds with prisoners.”

 Shouto’s face lit the fuck up. “Of course.” He lifted his hand from the pond, water dripping from his little icicle, which he used to tap another koi. “This is Klaus, whose hobby is doubles tennis.”

 God, you’d eviscerate the whole damn planet for Shouto to stay as happy as he looked. “Those two cavorting about in the far corner there—they’re a mother-son team, called, uh, Kyoya and Takoyaki. They—if you spoke to Takoyaki, Shouto, what would she say?”

 Brow furrowed, he pinched his lower lip between his thumb and index finger while he examined the fish. You were too distracted by the fullness of his mouth to concentrate on the fish—idly, you wondered what chapstick he used. You saw the moment he came up with his dumb little joke, and he faced you with a bright sort of eagerness and said in an affected voice, “If anything should happen to me, then my son, Kyoya, will take over the family business.”

 “So, all of these fish are now in the mafia. What are they trying to gain?”

 “Not all of them,” said Shouto, and he activated his quirk to extend his little icicle to stretch all the way across the pond, where he stroked a long koi down its back. “This one isn’t.”

 “Tell me about him.”

 He ran his tongue over his lower lip, glancing at you and back at the fish. He melted his pointer-icicle back to its original length before letting it dissolve between his fingers. “His name is Dick.”

 You barked out a laugh before covering your mouth. “Not even a shred of innuendo this time, looks like. Going straight for it. And?”

 “Dick likes disembowelment and working with sheet metal.”

 You clapped a hand over your eyes, groaning. “Better watch out, pretty boy, or I’ll kill you after we kill your dad.”

 “If it’s at your hands, I’ll take anything,” said Shouto, and with a soft grunt, he raised his arms above his head to stretch. Your eyes immediately honed in on the skin the hem of his parka exposed—oh. Boy has…tumby…

 You snapped out of it as Shouto checked his watch. “Looks like we’ve got fifteen minutes before we have to be at the shop.” He pulled his sleeve back over it. “Want to start walking there?”

 He’d told you that you were buying outfits for the big day (sure, bucko, very generous of you), and though you’d expected something like an army surplus store, he escorted you to a high-end, formal boutique. Really quite sexy of him, to insist that you kill his father in style. What’s the point of murder if you can’t look hot while doing it? None.

 So, that was your internal justification walking into the poshest boutique you’ve stepped foot in, feeling a bit grimy and out-of-place, but three saleswomen were waiting for you towards the front-of-house already, one handing the both of you cups of fancily decorated hot chocolate.

 Shouto turned to you before they could get a word out. “Do you have a colour in mind? I want to match you.”

 “Well, obviously not fucking white,” you said, and for some reason, one of the saleswomen’s eyebrows shot towards her carefully maintained hairline. Yikes, you forgot that people don’t like swearing in public. You’ll tone down your language. “Blood shows a bit too easily on white, so it’s like we wouldn’t have to work for it. Black—opposite problem. Wouldn’t show up much at all. Probably—” You tilted your head, considering what would piss off Endeavor. “Probably a light blue.”

 “I’ll pull a swatch of whatever shade she chooses,” said the hot chocolate saleswoman, and she took Shouto towards the back of the store while the other two took you towards the front corner.

 Thanks to Chieko’s and Hanazawa’s guidance (and quirks: Chieko’s let her instantly know what colour palettes looked best on someone [which was very niche but nevertheless insanely helpful], and Hanazawa’s quirk allowed her to tailor certain fabrics in minutes [certain fabrics being the deciding factor in how she’s working at a formal shop instead of, like, on a fishing barge]), it didn’t take long at all to find something that was suitably mobile for the assassination in addition to making you look good as hell. It was a shade of blue you wouldn’t have gone for, originally, but Chieko made you see the light.

 With Hanazawa’s sartorial quirk, you felt more tailoring phantom pinpricks from Shouto’s side rather than on your own. You finished up much more quickly than he did, so you waited where the ladies left you at the tri-fold mirrors.

 You have never looked this good in your life, and you’re thrilled to bits about looking like this as you make Shouto’s life a lot easier once the big day passes. Y’know, you should have some sort of back-ups in case you don’t kill Endeavor on the first try. Where in your dress can you hide—? Oh, it has pockets.

 Fumbling in your copious skirts, you glanced up towards the mirrors for how well a gun-sized lump could be concealed at the waist, and Shouto was tilting his head at you in the reflection. Once you’d said fuck white dresses, Shouto must have decided to stray from traditional suits as well: his fitted, navy suit was unbuttoned to show the button-down the same blue as your dress, with a thin tie a shade darker—ultimately contributing to Shouto’s being horribly, horribly pretty, despite the strangely constipated expression.

 You spun towards him, your skirts following you (good for hasty, violent movements). “I was searching for a slit in the dress,” you said, smoothing out the fabric and bouncing on the balls of your feet, “It has pockets, but I was thinking about something that might not fit in them, especially if someone frisks me at the beginning of the night. I was thinking that I could strap a stiletto to my thigh—the knife, not the shoe—obviously—and use it if—”

 His expression darkened as he surged towards you and took a step up onto the modelling platform. You cut yourself off, unable to say anything more as a grimacing Shouto cradled your face in his palms (one of them noticeably hotter than usual), forcing you to stare up at him in his unbearably gentle way. He’s too overwhelming to look at this close up, but your gaze was drawn to his mouth as he opened and closed it, winced, and said after a beat: “It is imperative for you to know that I am dangerously near losing it.”

 Your eyes crossed for a second—first due to the heat of his breath washing over your skin, but his words really didn’t help your attempts to ground yourself. “Huh?”

 And Shouto was kissing you, kissing you with a quiet sort of desperation, his lips parting to lightly nibble on your lower lip, and ultimately soft and warm and annoyingly perfect. Something hot rushed up your spine when he curled his fingers snugly into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling simply through the tension, and yes, it was him who used that pomegranate beeswax lip balm that you’d found between couch cushions at his house a few weeks ago, and fuck, just being in Shouto’s arms made you feel small but safe, and you never felt those, and never-never at the same time, and—

 It's amazing how Shouto can act like he wasn’t just caught kissing in public by three salesladies when you want to melt into the floor, how he can behave like a normal person while paying for the clothes, how he can stroll right out of the dress shop with you under his arm as if he hadn’t been sticking his tongue in your mouth reflected in three different mirrors, and Shouto, too pleased with himself, too influential, and too handsome for his own good, eventually conceded to taking the back way to U.A. so that you could patronise your favourite food stall in an attempt to ameliorate your worries—but he’d already accomplished that by shooting you a roguish grin and pressing his lips to your temple.

 ***

 So, that was your first kiss with Shouto, and it’s sizing up to be your last. He hasn’t touched you since then. Not even holding your hand.

 Mina mentioned you’ve developed an eye twitch, and not because of the scar-sharing.

 During Present Mic’s lesson on the finer subtleties of using his professional soundboard (a process he called sounding, despite your fervent attempts to convince him that that is not what that word means at all, so please stop saying it in front of the entire cafeteria on microphone), you let a thought you’d been trying to stifle surface: what if Shouto can no longer see you romantically? He got a taste, and now that the assassination day was almost here, he was backing off in order to cut ties with you with the least amount of pain.

 These concerns burdened and kept you from preventing yet another terrible Freudian slip from Present Mic over the intercom.

 Thrusting his phone with an entry for the urban dictionary pulled up on the screen, Aizawa-sensei came to relieve you of your duties, and you absently waved back at your dismissal, instead focused on Shouto’s unfairly handsome smile as you approached the bench where he usually waited for you to walk to the dorms. Walking alongside him, you bit at a hangnail and had the troubling thought that Shouto may have finally realised that is he so woefully and irrevocably out of your league that he would search for someone better after you killed his father, regardless of soulmate status.

 All of your insecurities bubbled up to smother and obfuscate the main point: you really wanted another kiss, and you weren’t sure you were getting another one.

 From a sideways glance, you garner that he’s texting Midoriya, but you can’t tell what. Even with his head bowed to text, Shouto maintained his usual grace and paused by the dorm mailboxes for you to knock on them for good luck, like normal. You did, hesitantly this time, because you’re going to need it. The assassination attempt was tomorrow, and you were about to bring up the questions you’ve been beating yourself up over.

 “Hi,” you said, even though you’re already well into the walk back to the dorms, “Hi, Shouto.”

 Shouto clicked his phone to sleep but kept it in his hand. “Hi.” He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

 You sighed, your breath clouding in the cold. “That’s what I wanted to ask you,” you said, shoving your hands in your coat pockets, “I’m—have I done something wrong?”

 Shouto blinked slowly, like a cat. “What do you mean?”

 “Um.” You took your hands out of your pockets only to return them a moment later. “I, uh. I was wondering if you were tired of being my soulmate or something along those lines? If I’m tiring to be with? I worry if I’m—I don’t know, suddenly repulsive. I know I may be jumping to conclusions, but from my perspective, you’ve been suddenly distant physically this past week and a half, ever since—since we kissed,” you said, rubbing the inside layer of your pocket between your fingers, “I don’t mean to pressure you. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It’s just—and I know it hasn’t been long, and you’ve been busy with your scribbly notebook and meetings with your sisters and stuff—I miss you.”

 Sharply inhaling, Shouto scrunched his eyes shut and bit the inside of his cheek. “Do you know how painful it is for me to hear that,” he asked flatly.

 You’ve done it now. “Shouto, I’m sorry—”

 “That word you said. Repulsive.” Shouto took a step closer to you, his heavy exhale so cold it wasn’t visible in the winter air. “Nothing could be further from the truth. You’re entrancing. Anything you do or say can or will make me bust a nut.”

 You did a poor job of convincing him your snort-laugh was a sneeze. “Do you know what that—who taught you that?”

 He tilted his head. “Shinsou, but he told me not to snitch.” He rolled his shoulders back and shifted his jaw before very, very delicately taking your hand, curling his fingers into your palm, and once he sensed that he wasn’t going to react in a bust-a-nut way, his shoulders slackened. “I’m sorry that I caused you such trouble. It’s—ah.” Shouto frowned again, but he slid his phone into his back pocket so that he could hold your hand between both of his. “Like I said, I’m close to losing it when I’m around you. It’s hard holding myself back. It is in no way that you’re repulsive or that I’m tired of you. It’s more that I can’t get enough.”

 Nodding as your heart rate slowly went back to normal, you tugged him along the path to the dorms, your footsteps crunching in the frosted-over grass.

 “It’s not that I’m waiting until marriage to do anything with you, if that’s a concern of yours—”

 It…it wasn’t. Odd of him to bring that up.

 “—and again, I’m sorry for causing you distress, but I wanted to concentrate on tomorrow. To do it well and enjoy ourselves during. That’s a contributing factor to why I’ve been huddled off with my planner and consulting my sister about this sort of thing, since I want so hard to do this right.”

 Since when has Fuyumi known about the assassination plans?

 “But I assure you,” said Shouto, sliding his index finger along your jaw to guide your gaze towards his own, his voice growing firmer as he examined with darkened eyes your expression, “After tomorrow, I’m not holding back.”

 Your throat ran dry. “Uh. Good. Excellent.” You made a vain attempt to swallow in a way that wasn’t clearly desperate. “Cool. I’ll look forward to it.”

 He let you stew in the silence of innuendo as the two of you reached the entrance steps to 3-A’s dormitory, and you hopped up the first stair, spinning around when you had a nasty little perverted awful evil idea. “Shouto,” you said, grabbing the lapel of his coat, “May I kiss you?”

 “Of course. If you’ll allow me a moment.” Shouto shifted away from you for a bit, as if you couldn’t tell how and what he was adjusting with his belt, and his phone let out a chirrup.

 Feeling bold, you reached into the back pocket of his jeans (Shouto froze, even though your fingertips barely grazed him) to yank out his phone.

 “Midoriya’s saying something about bowling tonight?” You handed it to him once he turned around.

 “Yeah,” Shouto said, and he unlocked his phone to scan the text. “He and the rest of the guys have pooled to rent out a bowling alley for the bachelor party tonight, after Spirited Away at Kirishima’s folk’s house.”

 Laughing through your nose, you shook your head. “Shou, y’know that bachelor party isn’t a label you can whip out for every guys’ night. It’s specifically the guys’ night before the wedding.”

 Shouto shot you a wry smile. “I know.” He stowed his phone and took your hand again. “Let’s get you out of this cold; you don’t need to be sick tomorrow of all days.”

 He opened the door to the dorms for you. “What’s Ashido arranged for the girls to do tonight?”

 Huh. You hadn’t told him about the girls’ night tonight. “Mina’s been texting me about getting our nails done, and then she’s dragging me to a—well, she won’t directly say. She wants it to be a surprise, for some reason.” It’d be nice to have pretty nails while covered in the blood of your soulmate’s abuser. It would add to the overall posh vibes, you supposed. “In general, everyone’s been very secretive and giggly about it. Makes me nervous.”

 “After how composed you’ve been through this whole process? Bullshit,” said Shouto, startling you with his casual swearing and utmost confidence in you (but you were still welcoming it), “So long as you don’t quit on me before tomorrow at 11:00, you’ll be fine.” He stretched his arms above his head, making a quiet sort of grumble in the back of his throat, and he grinned when he caught you staring at his stomach. “By the way, my grandmother’s ring finally got resized,” he said as he dragged the hem of his sweater back down, “so I’ll be picking it up before the bachelor and bachelorette parties start. I know it’s cutting it close, but it’s worth it, wouldn’t you say?”

 He was grinning. The smug bastard was grinning—in his soft, gentle way that somehow emanated the fucking pinnacle of self-satisfaction—and you took a step away from him, scratching the back of your neck.

 “Ah, ha, ha,” you said, glancing around for anyone to come help you with this, but the commons were vacant. “What are—why are you choosing those particular words?”

 Shouto shuffled off his coat and reached to remove yours, and you let him, cogs unfortunately turning all the same direction at last. “You’re an advocate for using the proper words in the correct situations.”

 You were afraid of that.

 You strode into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning the inside of the door for Aoyama’s bougie soda (no touching!), which you took a can of, cracked open with a hiss, and chugged as if you were an alcoholic on death row and it was a bottle of contraband hand sanitiser.  

 “So,” you said eventually, pushing yourself up to sit on the kitchen counter, “Are we still on for tomorrow? The murder part, not the wedding part.”

 “I assumed you would kill him at the reception.”

 “Okay, no,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Let me be clear, since apparently we’ve been dancing around each other’s intentions all semester: are we killing your dad tomorrow, Shouto?”

 Shouto sidled next to you, his forearms flat on the counter to support some of his weight as he leant against it, with one of them pressed along the outside of your thigh. “I figured he would suffer enough seeing us be enormously happy and outside of his influence.” His pinkie finger traced along the side seam of your jeans. “While we may not like him, a lot of civilians value his work. And an assassination on our résumés wouldn’t do wonders for our careers post-graduation.”

 Well. You could annoy Endeavor for the rest of his stupid life. Enjoy his reactions. Chest heaving, you reached over to run your fingers through Shouto’s hair, and he tilted his chin up like a cat to lean into your touch. “Is he invited to the wedding?”

 “Of course not,” he said, his eyelashes fluttering as he shut his eyes—but he cracked one open. “Are we still getting married tomorrow?”

 “Aren’t we too young? And still in school, and aren’t we going to endanger each other—”

 Shouto guided your palm to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the centre. “Aren’t we soulmates?”

 Frowning, you said, “You make a convincing argument.”

 He hummed, and he shifted to your front, took your soda to set it aside, and parted your thighs to stand between them, his arms wrapping loosely around your hips (his sneaky little fingers dangling to graze your ass). “So, all this time, I’ve been planning a wedding, and you’ve been plotting an assassination.”

 “I guess,” you said, giving up and sliding your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer—the winter weather still hadn’t dissipated in the dorm’s heat, after all. “You shouldn’t’ve had to plan it all by yourself, though; I’m sorry I didn’t get my head out of my ass—”

 “What are you talking about? I want to make grand gestures for you. I want to put in the great effort that you’re worth,” he was saying into your shirt, his mouth moving suspiciously lower to your boobs, “I don’t want you to worry about what you shouldn’t have to; I want you to feel as at peace with me as I do with you—”

 “Shouto,” you said, pulling back to grab his chin, to make him look at you, “I fucking love you.”

  “I also find you acceptable,” he said, nodding seriously, but a soft laugh broke through the sternness when you slapped the back of your hand to your forehead and gasped loudly.

 “Shouto,” you said, your other hand over your heart, “Do you know how much pain that brings me? I’ve having—we’re having a heart attack, all because my fiancé won’t say he loves me, on the night before our—”

 “Funny,” he said softly, his hands flat on your thighs now that you’ve dramatically languished on the kitchen counter, “I don’t feel any pain.”

 Sitting upright again, you placed your hands over his, curling your fingers into his at an awkward angle.

 “I don’t feel any when I’m with you.”

 “Oh, you poetic bastard,” you said, drawing him near to plant an exasperated kiss on his cheek, followed by another to his scar (silencing his protest that he was being genuine), “Don’t you have certain words to tell me, pretty boy?”

 His smile at first was impulsive and then grew brighter as he chose to share it with you, and Shouto pulled you even closer to whisper them in your ear.

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou

[shakirawastaken]

dsmp if...they wanted to propose to you!

dsmp if... series goes wild  anyway

dream: - he’d put himself out there with a poise of confidence and strategy - like bro is prepared . he knows when where what why and how all this shit is happening  - but is also kinda like “ill just wing it and we’ll see how it goes lol” - get this man a schedule - he doesnt want to do a whole public thing so in my head i see him proposing to you in like a restaurant but like a fancy one - hed splurge for sURE  - one of those guys who had like 50 million meeting with ring companies to design the perfect one - asked his mom for help on designing a ring  - he had the blueprint for a speech in his head but when the moment came he went with the flow  - but when hes proposing hed remember his speech so hed be like - “i had this speech that id written, but looking at you made me forget it all, will you marry me?” or some shit like that LMFAOOO - pays sapnap money to come eat the place too so he can take pictures 

sapnap: - okay sapnap is a family man in my head - hed also want to do a destination proposal - maybe greece? rome? somewhere not in america is what im feeling - or hed do it in a fucking ranch in texas or like down the street from the dream team house either one - EITHER WAY he would want your parents and his parents MINIMUM to be there - searches up “best wedding ring designs 2022″ in google and hopes and prays - hed have one or two meeting to plan the ring but i think he’d be confident in what you like  - even if he has no clue - like “so sir, do you think your future fiance would like a rose gold band or gold band?” “rose gold for sure” *has no idea what you like * - would not try to plan a speech, he knows he’d forget it and wouldn’t even use it - saves all that material for the vows - so confident you’ll say yes that he starts calling ahead to look at venues to tour - LMFAO IMAGINE YOU ANSWER HIS PHONE AND THE GUY IS LIKE “hello yes we’re calling nick because he had interest in touring our wedding venue! congrats on the engagement!” - and youd be like “tf” - so you know - but dont tell him you know please it would make his year 

george: - is nervous - “dream what if they say no idk” “bro youre a fucking idiot” - def doesnt want to do a public proposal, he likes the private aspect - so he does it at home or some shit and his phone up to record cause bro knows youd be mad if you had no memento - but he doesnt do it secretly - hed press record and set it up so you can obviously see it - and youre expecting some prank - but then he gets down on one knee and youre tearing up and shi right in the middle of your kitchen - get mad at him for not letting you dress up and look nice for it - has a speech planned out in his head. word for word. and recites that shit back to you like its fucking drama class - once u say yes hes on discord like “SHE SAID YES” and sapnaps like “no fucking shit” - he’s the type of guy to make a ring that he likes and hopes that you like it too - luckily you do like the ring so it all works out - if not just tell him he wont be mad hell just go make a new one

quackity: - asks you like a few months earlier if you want to get married - “do you wanna get married” “sure” - so he knows youre locked in and ready to go LMFAOO even if you interpreted it as light hearted at the time - because of that theres a little suspicion that goes on in your mind when you see him go “i gotta take this call” or “no im def not looking up wedding venues 2023 what do you mean” - but you being the great s/o you are just ignore it - is he proposing or did he take you on a late night drive to an outlook thing - is he proposing or did you catch karl in the bushes with a camera - is he proposing or did he say youre beautiful - is he proposing or did he get down on one knee?? YK WHAT IM SAYING - bro just stares at you and you stare at him like - “babe” “babe” love - youre nodding ur head yes before bro gets a chance to speak - which is good cause he didn’t know what he wanted to say - not that he doesnt know what to say its just - he has so many words for you that he cant put them into words - was ready to blurt out a mixture of spanish and english and hope u caught his drift

karl: - enlists the help of his friend - “hey tina take y/n to get their nails done” - “hey brooke take y/n to get a new dress” - “hey sapnap give me money to buy y/n a ring” LMFAOFMOA - no hed be saving up that shit for AGES - started a proposal dream pinterest board the minute he knew you were the one - subtly ran ideas by you over the course of the years you were together - you didnt think of anything. blissfully unaware - “look at this picture on pinterest!” “oh its sO PRETTY!! imagine getting engaged there” - *saves it to the board* - BUT AS A RESULT he cant make up his mind on where to propose - so he just picks one enie-meanie-miney-mo or however you spell it  - wherever it ends up being its so sweet - mr beast or someone tricks you into coming to the location under the guise of a video  - and you show up and its karl in a suit - “lets go on a walk love” “okay?” - you get an idea of whats about to happen

wilbur: - stalks your pinterest stalks your moms pinterest stalks your ex friends sister met someone at the club and he kissed her’s pinterest - is SO CONFIDENT he’s got everything right because all his information is form you directly - plans that shit out to a T  - “okay phil at 11:02 am you call y/n and say good morning any plans for the day then tommy at 11:34 am call y/n and ask her if she wants to join you for a vlog at [location]” “dude wil we know lets just get on with it” - chooses somewhere with ambience with music perhaps by the ocean or a river or something - meticulously listens to all of spotify for the perfect song to play in the background - hired james and ash (professionals) to film  -  public proposal wants the world to know that he is wilbur and he loves you -  isnt nervous about proposing but is scared something is gonna go wrong -  the whole build up to the proposal is a blur to him  - he wants it to be perfect - hes mentally checking everything off in his head as it happens - “okay so we arrived on time, check” “we’re standing in the right direction check” - when the time comes to propose he blanks - cause everything went right and now its showtime - says whatever is on his mind and then gets on track - “oh my god everything i alright this is amazing! but i love you dear like a lot and...” - cue cheering from tommy (and a lot of soft smiles from random people) when you say yes 

please send me requests it took me days to figure out what to write about here

[jpitha]

The Dreams of Hyacinth (redux) Preview

This is a preview of a future chapter of my redo of Dreams of Hyacinth. Long time readers will remember this as the serial I started right after Just a Little Futher ended. I liked a lot of it, but I didn't like the direction it took. It felt too much like a redo of the same basical story of JaLF. I'm going to start it over - posting it here and to Reddit - with a lot of the original intact, but changes keeping it to High Mars Hyacinth, more of a cyberpunky feel I was going for originally and less Nanite/Galaxy Domination Stuff. This is a preview somewhere in the middle. Nicholas North is separated from Eastern Standard his partner and is trying to escape... something :)

****

Nick made his way up the stairs, out of the transit station, trying to look inconspicuous. Just another commuter going to work right? Nothing strange about that. He tried to ignore his headache. It wasn't working.

Out in public, the scars on the back of his neck, hidden under his collar itched. All of his implants were colored to look like skin, and the blending was admirable, but he still felt exposed walking around. He seemed to have lost Houndstooth forces for now, but who knows how long before he'd be noticed again. For the fifth time he checked his camera hacks. It looked like the code Queenie copied for him worke; when he peered in on the camera lines, he didn't see himself. He couldn't be invisible, that would have been too obvious. Instead he had replaced himself with a composite based off of a bunch of media he had downloaded two nights ago. He looked generically male shaped, generically handsome and generically dressed.

The very illegal submachine gun strapped to his back under his coat, and the very very illegal crystal memory cube in his belt pack weighed heavily and reminded him that he was not very generic at all.

He went to a coffee cart and got a flat white. He wasn't really thirsty, but a coffee would give his hands something to do while he walked, so he didn't fidget. Cradling the hot coffee in both hands to warm them - Hyacinth was a controlled environment, but it was also old enough that they adjusted the temperature for Earth based seasons. It was 'winter' and while nobody would die of exposure on Hyacinth, it was still colder than Nick preferred. It never got this cold on Parvati.

As Nick walked around Congregation Square trying to look inconspicuous and hide from Houndstooth, he sat down on a bench - leaning forward a little so the gun didn't hit the back of the bench - across from a merchant. They sold beverages of all different kinds, human, k'laxi, Sef, and others. People were walking in and out carrying small paper bags. Maybe he'd gotten away with it. Maybe he'd actually lost them.

Far in the distance a siren started. It had a piercing, long wail. It was mechanical, or made to sound mechanical. As soon as it started, others joined in, making a massive minor chord wall of sound. It was loud, it was worrying. It was meant to be. Nick wasn't the only one who didn't know what it meant, but he was probably one of the only people in Congregation who could query a KB real-time and ask what it was.

Spin Alarm, was what came back. Details, he thought.

The KB began to rattle of a canned explanation. When Hyacinth was so old that it was built before gravity manipulation. To get around that small detail, originally the Orbital spun, so that centripetal force made ersatz gravity. It wasn't gravity, and didn't feel like it, but it was better than nothing. There was a link to a raft of very old welcome articles that explained how to deal with centripetal force and what to do about nausea and how most people got over it within the first week of arrival. As soon as humans learned how to manipulate gravity, Hyacinth was spun down and remained stationary.

That didn't mean the spin engines were removed however.

They could pivot and move in nearly every direction. On the rare occasions that Hyacinth needed to change position or orbit, they could be repurposed. Plus, it was expensive to remove them, and Houndstooth wouldn't spend that kind of money unless they had a good reason.

Just as they were designed to do nearly a thousand years ago, the spin engines on High Mars Hyacinth fired. Being a cylinder sixty miles by twenty meant that - at first - other than a low rumble and a jolt, there was no change. After a minute or two though, Nick looked up and saw the stars start to move. The ever present crescent of Mars below started to move out of the current glass panel and into the next.

Human balance is sensitive. K'laxi is more, but he wasn't around any at the time. As soon as the spin started, Nick felt weird. It was like that carnival ride he rode when he visited that fair on Parvati with his parents when he was small. His inner ear began to argue with his eyes about where 'up' was. He looked down at his coffee, and the liquid in the cup began to slosh oddly, and very slightly start to lean to one side. If it was happening this fast, then the spin engines were thrusting hard. As hard as a Starjumper maybe. Nick queried the KB again and it helpfully mentioned that they could thrust at up to ten gees on when set to Emergency Stop. Nick didn't think there was an Emergency Start, but who knows. The KB wasn't sure either.

In the time it took Nick to query the KB, things got worse. People started to stagger, and some fell to their knees. A K'laxi wearing an embassy uniform fell to their knees and vomited. After, they began a keening wail that Nick had never come out of a K'laxi's mouth before. They were clearly in distress. Nick stood to try and help them, but was overcome with waves of dizziness and his own nausea. He sat down hard on the ground and laid on his back. That made it better.

"Nick! Nick!" His comm chirruped. "Nick, I got it!" It was Eastern.

"Eastern? Where are you? I thought Jameson had you."

"He did. I talked my way out."

Even this uncomfortable, Nick felt incredulous. "Tell me later. Someone is spinning Hyacinth up, are you safe?"

"Safe? Sure I'm safe. I'm in the Basement."

The illegal moving bazaar in the underground maintenance tunnels? "How are you able to reach me on comm? The Basement usually has a comm block."

"Well for one, I'm using your implant line instead of your comm line." She said "And for two, I have root, so I was able to go around the block."

Root? How did she... No, another thing for later. "Well, can you tell who turned on the spin engines? Everyone down here in Congregation is doing poorly. Most everyone is laying on the ground, waiting for the world to stop moving." Nick also didn't mention that they were all starting to feel heavier too. The spin engines were designed to spin Hyacinth up to one gee equivalent, but the gravity generators had already had everything up to a gee. If the engines continued, everyone would feel two gees, and while that's survivable by k'laxi, it won't be without injury if they fall wrong. For the humans it will be mightily unpleasant.

"Millisec, I'll see." A pause. "Nick, it looks like the command was sent from the Houndstooth Command Center. They turned it on themselves!"

What? It was their station, of course they had access to "Why?" Nick said aloud.

"The orders don't say, but I'll give you two guesses."

As soon as Eastern had finished transmitting, Nick heard a rhythmic clanking. He turned his head, and fighting waves of nausea he saw three Houndstooth 'customer protection technicians' in powered armor clomp around the square. They had blackened visors, and their rifles were in their hands. As they walked they looked over everyone as a mini drone hovered behind. Nick could feel it scanning, but it hadn't reached him yet. They turned on the spin to make everyone stop moving, so they could find someone! Talk about overkill. The gun on Nick's back itched. If they scanned and caught it, he was dead - and that was one of the more positive outcomes. Nick had to be somewhere else, now. If he got to his feet though, he'd give himself away to the CPTs. "Eastern! I've got CPTs nearby. They have a drone and it's scanning people." he thought over the comm.

"Already? Fuck. Nick, they must have knew where you were and were just trying to hold you. Talk about overkill though."

"Later, Eastern! What do I do?"

"You have your sub right? You could shoot your way out." She could feel Nick's expression over the comm and quickly said "kidding, kidding. Hold please." While Nick waited, he dared not look at the CPTs clomping around, but he could hear the whine of their servos and the thump of their boots as they moved and stopped, and moved and stopped. It seemed like they were checking everyone. If they knew he was here, why didn't they just come towards him?

Because his hack had worked, he realized. He'll have to thank Queenie later - if he survives. He heard more of that odd keening wail from k'laxi further away from him, and that caught the attention of the CPTs. They walked over to check them out. Nick couldn't believe they were checking out of concern, but that did mean he was right to not make his image on the cameras to be k'laxi.

There was a commotion from the k'laxi, and a odd shout, and then the CPTs yelled and started chattering among themselves. Before Nick could figure out what was going on, there was a deep thump, and he felt a shockwave. Had one of the k'laxi thrown a grenade? Nick knew that their civil war was ongoing, and that there were reports on the news of it being very brutal, but he had no idea that the war had come to Hyacinth. By the alarmed sounds of the CPTs, they hadn't realized it either. One of them had triggered their assistance siren, and the other's suit was yelling 'medic! medic! medic!' over and over again.

"psst!" Nick turned his head, pushed down the wave of dizziness that accompanied it, and saw a gardening robot peer out from underneath a large potted tree. "Get over here!" It was speaking in Eastern's voice.

Without checking to see if the CPTs were busy, Nick half rolled, half undulated towards the opening under the tree. Without grace, he felt down the hatch and landed on his back a couple meters down, knocking the breath out of him. Now, he was dizzy from the centripetal force and the fall. Coughing, he tried to sit up and push past the dizziness. Next to him was a gardening cart, and the little bot was waving a small spade from the front. "Taxi's here Nick! Get your rear in gear!"

He pushed himself to his hands and knees and flopped onto the cart. With an electric whine and a strong smell of ozone, it started to move away - slower because of the high gravity.

Nick kept his eyes shut. It was easier that way. "Eastern, one, thank you for the rescue. Two, where are we going?"

"You're welcome Nicholas North, and I'm taking you to the Basement. I've got some friends down here and they can help."

"Were these the same "friends" that let you get into Houndstooth CIC? How did you know what they were doing?" Nick's voice warbled as the car raced over bumps and gaps in the paneling.

"I told you Nick, I had root. Don't worry about it. You'll be here soon and we can work out next steps. You have the memory crystal?" Eastern sounded distracted.

She was deflecting. "Yes, I have it." Nick didn't say anything else, but a knot grew in his stomach. Eastern was doing things she shouldn't be able to do, and none of her answers about why she could do that were satisfying.

[kumezyzo]

i wonder if you can write something with sapnap having a really talkative gf who interacts a lot with his chat, but he kinda gets jealous bc his chat is always ´hitting on his gf' for fun, so idk maybe you could write something about how he would react to this on stream !!

this ask has been sitting in my inbox for so long 😭😭 im sorry!! again, im gonna assume this is nonstreamer!reader. and i dont think he would be seriously "jealous" of chat so i wrote it more jokey. he knows you only want him 😌

anyway, enjoy! or dont.... :) m.list

you two were sitting in nicks purple lit office, telling his chat about your day. he wanted to stream but also to spend time with you.

"and when we got back from lunch, we just took a nap," you laughed, looking at the chat. if someone started watching the stream on a whim, they would have assumed it was your stream.

as chats flew by, one caught both of your attention: 'id want to take a nap with yn any day ;)'

you scoffed and giggled, looking over at nick. he shook his head as he smiled at the chat.

"so, when i woke up, i realized nick woke up before me. and left me there!!" you said with a pout before you turned to glare at your boyfriend. "and i told you to wake me up when you woke up!"

"baby, i didnt want to wake you up," he said sympathetically. "you looked like you needed it." you pursed your lips and looked back at the chat.

'i would never leave yn like that smh' you read out loud. nick looks at the camera with a deadpan before looking at you with the same face.

"yn, you would have gone back to sleep," he said, trying to be reasonable. he smiled at you before realizing why this topic came up.

'he should have gone back to sleep with you' you read aloud again. "exactly!" you added, satisfied that chat was backing you up.

'i would have cuddled her 😌'

"guys, im right here! stop hitting on her," he said in playful exasperation. you laughed and leaned your head on his shoulder. he pouted and turned his head away from you.

"dont worry, nick, i still love you," you say with a smile flashed towards the camera. you kean in and plant a small kiss on his neck.

he turns back to look down at you on his shoulder. you pulled back and grinned at him. he rolled his eyes and gave you a peck on the lips.

he turned to the camera, "see, shes mine!"

its short. kinda cute. i dunno, i liked it. if you didnt... my bad? anyway. hope you enjoyed! ive seen all the other asks, believe me. im just working with the detailed asks for now cause those feel more demanding 😭😭😭

so, im sorry if you think im ignoreing your asks, im not! im just really bad at writing 😭 -Nony

[piecesofreeses]

We've Got You

Nick ignores his mental health in favor of staying on top of work. When his involuntary age regression catches up with him, Matt and Chris are there. 

Told in 3rd person limited (like most of my stories) where the reader has access to Nick’s thoughts, but not Matt or Chris’s.

DISCLAIMER:

This is an age regression fanfic! Age regression is a completely nonsexual coping skill and it is represented appropriately and correctly as it relates to my life. Regression can be positive in many circumstances, but not all. If you are struggling with your mental health or involuntary age regression, talking to a professional is always the best choice.

Hate will not be tolerated, nor will it be entertained. I will not give you my attention; your comment will just be deleted! Please don’t waste your time, just take your bullshit somewhere else!

One more note:

This is NOT incestual, nor is it sexual in any manner. The comfort Nick receives during and after his panic attack is purely loving, familial support. Yes! They cuddle! Yes! They hold Nick and rub his back! Yes! They share a bed for the night! No! None of that makes this “weird!” 

TWs: Panic attack, descriptions of the physical sensation of a panic attack, avoiding regression, swearing, lighthearted arguing, guilt for enjoying a pacifier

Okay on to the story!

Nick always tries to be the quick witted, loud, strong oldest brother. With the triplets spending so much time in LA just the three of them, more now than ever they have to keep each other in line. And yes, that means Nick has to take care of his brothers even when he doesn’t want to. 

Matt may be their transportation as the only brother with a license, but Nick still feels like he’s mothering them half of the time. He’s constantly sticking a hand between his brother's faces both literally and metaphorically. While Nick probably couldn’t love Matt and Chris any more than he does, they’re brothers; it’s impossible for them not to get on his nerves sometimes. 

Currently, the triplets are sitting in a parking lot about ten minutes from their house filming a car video. Nick is tired and has been a bit quieter than usual, leaving his quips and comebacks to a minimum, just listening to Matt and Chris rant. 

Suddenly, of-fucking-course, the two are arguing again. It’s something stupid about the song that’s playing in the background— no wait— it’s about Matt’s phone? Nick isn’t really sure, he’s just exhausted. It’s not the other boys fault; they can disagree and get at each other throats all they want in the car videos. Nick knows the fans love it, but in that moment he’s just so goddamn overwhelmed.

Nick tries to open his mouth to tell his brothers to shut the fuck up, but no sound comes out. He feels a bit like he’s sinking into the backseat, totally isolated from the argument in the front. Nick knows he’s fine, so why does he want to cry? Why can’t he get his words to come out?

A tear escapes and slips down his cheek. He tries to wipe it away but his arm feels so heavy and his fingers feel so clunky and they’re not moving the way he needs them to. Why is everything so hard?

Without even meaning to, Nick lets a little whine slip past his lips. Even though he hates asking for help, he’s sure he needs Matt and Chris. If nothing else, they need to turn off the camera, but apparently the fighting in the front seat is too loud, because the boys give no indication of hearing him. 

Oh no, Nick realizes as his mind gets even fuzzier, I’m slipping.

Nick knows he regresses if stress gets to him too much– his brothers know too, but God, it hasn’t happened in months.

He’s usually pretty good about preventing it by being gentle with himself, but it’s just been so fucking stressful this month. The end of the podcast just ended up being a lot of work and he didn’t have time to cater to his mental health the way he has to to make sure he never slips. 

This is the result, I guess, Nick thinks. Because he refused to show himself some goddamn love when he was big, his brain was forcing him to regress. And he didn’t get to pick when. 

“Matt?” The oldest choked out.

Still no response. Nick felt like he was sinking into his brain as everything started to feel eerily quiet, like his brother’s voices were coming from underwater. 

Maybe I’m the one underwater, he thinks as the whole world begins to appear muted in color. My sensory processing just conked out, didn’t it.

“Chris? Help,” Nick tried again, but it came out even quieter than the previous attempt. Despite his every effort, Nick felt his eyes well up. 

Why won’t they stop arguing? I need help! I need help and I don’t know how to get it! Someone please help me. Matt? Chris? Please help me.

It’s all far too much, so he closes his eyes and fights against his heavy limbs, eventually able to pick up his hands to cover his ears. He feels himself shaking gently and the first of his tears begin to flow down his cheeks. Apparently, Nick hasn’t breathed in a while, because suddenly he feels himself gasp involuntary. Fighting the sudden rush of air, his throat catches on nothing and he coughs out, forcing more tears to spill. 

Nick’s forearms are covering his cheeks from the way he's trying to protect his ears, and he feels them wet from how hard he's begun to cry. He convulses in a sob and finally, a loud enough sound comes out.

“Nick?!” He hears Matt yell. “Something’s wrong, Chris! Turn that shit off!”

They’re coming. They’re gonna help. Please hurry, though.

“Okay, okay I am. Go get in the back with him!” Chris’s response comes, quieter.

He doesn't even hear the door open, but suddenly Matt’s arms are around him. He’s wracked by sobs as his body relaxes into Matt’s chest.

It’s all okay. I’m okay. They’ll make it okay. 

Matt’s arms are rubbing Nick’s back as he shakes and he can feel how his tears have wet the shoulder of his t-shirt. A moment later, he feels the seat underneath them move like another body has sat down, and then he hears Chris’s voice. 

“It’s okay, Nick. We’ve got you,” Chris says gently. As Matt keeps touching him comfortingly, Chris keeps talking. 

“The camera is off and we can delete all the footage later. I’m so sorry we didn’t notice what was happening earlier. Matt and I are gonna help, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

“Chris,” Matt whispers, “Take him? I want to get us home.”

“‘Course,” Chris says. Nick whines and holds onto Matt, clearly comfortable where he is, but the boys are still able to switch who he’s sitting onto fairly easily. He's stopped crying and looks up at Chris as he pulls him into his lap. Chris is sitting properly in the left seat with Nick on his lap, back leaned against the door and head on Chris’s shoulder. It's probably illegal, but with the boy no longer crying, they won’t be taking any risks. 

As Matt gets out of the back and back into the driver’s seat, Chris haphazardly wraps the seatbelt over the two of them. Nick pulls his knees up and burrows his head into his brother's shoulder. Quietly, he pulls a thumb into his mouth before looking up at Chris as if waiting to be told off. He waits, half expecting to be called gross, even though he knows his brothers don't find his regression gross.

“Oh, you’re small, Nicky. How old are you?” Chris asks with nothing but love in his voice. Nick doesn't respond, just closing his eyes and sinking into the comfort.

“He’s small?” Matt asks from the front. “How old did he say?”

“Didn’t respond. I’d guess one by the thumb and how he was crying earlier,” Chris responds, petting Nick's hair and trying to make sure he doesn't slip out of his lap on the drive home. 

Matt sighs, “Okay, we’re only a minute away from home. What do you think we do when we get there? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him regress.”

“Well first get his pacifier, I don’t want his fingers in his mouth and longer than they have to be, but I’m pretty sure he’ll cry if I try to take them out without a replacement. Next… uhh… I don’t think he’s going to be chill with me letting go of him unless I'm literally putting him into your arms, but he seems exhausted. I’d say we all get in your bed and try to get him to go to bed? It’s late for all of us, especially for the baby,” Chris says, looking down at Nick and laughing quietly as they pull into the driveway.

“Alright, I’m going to come and help you stand up with him so you can carry him in. He’s not going to walk himself, is he?” Matt replies, looking back at the little boy curled into Chris with his thumb in his mouth. 

“No way.” Chris says, reaching to unbuckle them. Matt steps out of the car and opens the door for Nick and Chris. 

Sounding confused, Matt asks, “How are we going to make this work?”

“You just take him? I don't think I can stand up with him in my lap even with your help,” Chris suggests. Matt slots his arms under Nick’s knees and picks him up bridal style. Luckily, there is minimal protest from the little, just a whine and some still watery eyes. With Nick out of his lap, Chris climbs out of the car, shuts the door, locks it and runs up ahead of his brothers to unlock and open their door. 

Now that they are standing, Matt carries Nick with ease. Up the steps of their porch and into the house, the lack of strain on Matt’s face makes it appear as if Nick really is a baby. Chris smiles with the thought as he follows the two inside and closes the door behind them. 

“I’ll find his paci. Get in bed?” Chris calls out as he tosses the car keys on the kitchen table. 

“Got it,” comes Matt’s reply. Chris has no idea where the little’s paci might be, but it’s pretty important that he finds it, so he starts by tearing out the couch cushions to see if it's tucked underneath one of them. With no luck, he heads up to Nick’s room and strips his bed, checking if it might be in there. Unfortunately, the stupid blue thing is still nowhere to be found. 

Nick can hear Chris tearing his room apart looking for his pacifier as Matt carries him upstairs. 

He’s never gonna find it.

Too small to tell Matt where it is, he just tugs on his sleeve and looks down the hall to his room.

Fortunately, Matt gets the message. “Want to go help Chrissy?” Matt says and turns toward the sound of the rummaging. As they walk into the room, Chris looks at the boys defeated. 

“I can’t find it,” he sighs. 

“Losat,” comes Nick’s small voice. 

Oh no, are they going to think that means I lost it? No no, that’s supposed to be “closet.”

“In the closet?” Matt and Chris respond in unison, walking into the closet and digging through the junk on his closet floor. 

Oh thank God. 

Matt sets Nick down, leaning his back against the closet wall so he can move his shoes. Underneath, he finds a small shoebox covered in stickers. How promising. Opening it up, Matt discovers the pacifier and a couple small toys. 

“Bingo, Chris! It's right here,” Matt exclaims.

“Why’d you hide it away like this, sweet pea?” Chris asks the little boy, scooping him up like a koala. Nick doesn't respond other than a whine and rests his chin on Chris’s shoulder, facing the opposite direction. 

The boys walk out of the closet, Matt with a pacifier in hand and Chris with a Nick in… arms.

“I need to wash this off,” Matt says and walks into the bathroom. 

“Okay, bring it to us when you're done,” Chris says and hikes Nick up so his legs can wrap around his waist. Nick has one arm wrapped around Chris’s shoulder and neck and the other bent so his thumb can slip back into his mouth. “You ready for bed, honey?” Chris whispers into his ear as he leans over the bed, working to gently disconnect Nick from him. Eventually, he separates them, laying Nick down on his back in Matt’s bed. Chris pulls Nick's shoes off, brushes the little’s hair out of his face, kicks off his own Crocs and crawls into bed with Nick. He drags the covers up over them and pulls Nick closer to make space for Matt to lay on the other side of the boy. 

“Okay bub, I’ve got your paci,” comes Matt’s voice. Carefully, he pulls Nick’s hand away from his mouth and replaces it with the blue pacifier, slotting it between his lips. 

That helps. That helps so much. Why am I like this? Why does that help?!

Matt slips under the covers and wraps his arms around the boy. “Nick, honey, I can see you freaking out. It’s okay that you like that. It's not gross, it’s not bad, and Chrissy and I don't mind. We love you bubba.”

“Luv yous too.” 

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗪𝗜𝗦𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗛 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗢𝗦

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N faces the terrifying experience of having four wisdom teeth removed. With her boyfriend, Matt, and his brothers by her side, Y/N goes through moments of anxiety, laughter, and confusion under the influence of anesthesia.

WARNING: Mentions of blood, pain, surgery, dentist, anesthesia.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The sun shone high in the sky as Y/N and Matt got into the car, ready to face the journey to the dentist's office.

"You're going to be okay, honey." Matt said as he arranged himself in the driver's seat, casting a quick glance of genuine concern in his girlfriend's direction, who spent the entire morning glued to himself, exposing her fear into emotions and complaints.

Y/N smiled small, buckling her seatbelt and moving her body above the upholstered so she found a comfortable position, trying to shake off the bad thoughts about the surgery.

"I hope so, but I can't promise I won't put on a little show in there." The girl joked, trying to relax the atmosphere, resting her hands on her thighs so that her slightly sweaty palms were in contact with the fabric of her jeans.

"I doubt you're the worst patient they've ever seen." The boy laughed as he started the car, turning his head to his right and sending her a wink.

Nick and Chris quickly settled into the middle seats of the car, each of them with a reassuring smile on their face. Nick held the camera firmly in his hands, lowering his gaze to the screen and changing a few settings.

They were like brothers to Y/N, and their presence there was comforting for her.

“Ready for the adventure, Y/N?” Chris asked with a mischievous smile, rubbing the palm of his hands before leaning his body forward and placing his upper body on the car console so that he could see the girl's reaction more closely, placing his right hand on the back of her seat to stabilize himself.

A loud curse from Nick was heard, the boy complaining that Chris was blocking the camera's view before forcefully pulling him back against his own seat.

"If by adventurous you mean a terrifying one, then yes." The girl sighed, ignoring their bickering while pretending to be excited before closing her eyes tightly, pressing the bridge of her nose with the index finger and thumb of her right hand, trying to relieve some of the tension there.

During the first few minutes of the trip, Y/N tried to remain calm, but anxiety began to seep into her chest, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. She looked at the clock on the car dashboard and saw that there were still twenty minutes until they arrived at the office, even though it seemed like they had already been inside the car for hours.

"Matt, I changed my mind. Can we go home?" Y/N interrupted Chris's yapping from the backseat, her voice trembling slightly as her hands balled into fists above her thighs, a result of her nervousness.

Matt glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to the road ahead, taking his right hand off the steering wheel briefly and moving it towards his girl, reaching blindly for her own, intertwining their fingers and giving hers a firm and comforting squeeze.

"You're kidding, right? We're already halfway there, my love. Look, it's going to be okay. I promise." The brunette murmured gently, trying to calm her nerves as he kept his attention on the road, frowning slightly in concentration.

"I know, it's just... I hate dentists so much, and I don't know if I want to take anesthesia." The girl admitted, shrugging her shoulders as she forced a small smile, squeezing Matt's hand back.

"Don't worry, girl, we'll be in the room with you the entire time." Nick said from the backseat, his voice sounding comforting, interrupting whatever negative thoughts Y/N's mind was creating at that moment, earning a weak nod in response.

The minutes dragged by slowly as the car made its way down the road. Y/N tried to distract herself by looking out the window, but the sight of buildings and businesses quickly passing by only increased her agitation.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do with your wisdom teeth after they're removed?" Chris asked suddenly, interrupting the tense silence as he kept his eyes fixed on the scenery outside the vehicle.

Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden question.

"Well, I thought I'd ask the doctor to keep them for me. Maybe I could make a necklace-" The girl interrupted her own sentence, widening her eyes and turning her torso to her left side abruptly, gripping the side of her own seat with her right hand so that she could look at the back and the driver's seat at the same time. "No, wait, I can put it under my pillow, right?" The volume of her voice rose quickly, sudden excitement dripping into her words.

"Pillow? Why would-"

"For the tooth fairy, obviously! I'm going to remove four wisdom teeth. Do you know how much money I could make from that? I don't, but I know it's a lot!" She rambled, breaking into a big smile as her eyes went from Matt to Nick and Chris and back again.

"It's 40 dollars, Y/N." Nick responded in an amused tone, turning to Chris and letting out a silent laugh. The youngest shrugged, leaning over the space between one seat and another and taking the camera from Nick's hands.

"They can't give your teeth back, honey. When they take them out, your teeth turn to dust." Matt said as if he was speaking to a child, a hidden smile growing on his face as he kept his eyes straight ahead, raising them momentarily to the rearview mirror and casting an amused glance at Nick, who was already looking back at him, knowing he was joking.

"No! Babe, don't say that. Are you serious?" Y/N screamed, her eyes widening comically before tears began to well up in her eyes, shining against the sunlight, her mouth forming an involuntary pout.

"Oh no, don't cry. If you cry, I'll cry, too." Nick noticed her tearful expression, closing his eyes tightly and bringing the palm of his hands to his own, rubbing his blue orbs harshly, trying to shake off his own emotions.

"Oh no, Nick, don't you dare cry-" Chris's voice was interrupted by a loud sob coming from Y/N, which tore from her throat, tears escaping her eyes without permission.

Her ears quickly caught the loud laughter of Matt and Chris, and Nick's sniffles, while her boyfriend squeezed her hand tightly, trying to convey support and reassurance even though he was laughing at her sensitive state.

As they got closer to the office, Y/N's heart started to beat faster. She felt a mixture of fear and excitement bubbling inside her and knew that soon she would be facing the inevitable.

"I think I'm having a panic attack." The girl murmured, her voice muffled by the crying she had minutes before as her nose sniffled repeatedly.

"No, you're not." Matt said amused, rolling his eyes playfully before squeezing Y/N's hand one last time, slowly releasing it and taking his back to the wheel so that he could concentrate on entering the building's parking lot, parking the car in one of the free spaces closest to the main entrance.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she exited the vehicle with the help of her boyfriend. She knew she had a long road ahead, but with Matt and the triplets by her side, she felt like she could face the situation she had put off for so many weeks. And so, with one last sigh, she entered the office.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was already in the dental chair, nervously looking up at the white ceiling as the doctor prepared everything around her. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as her hands sweated nervously. Matt caressed her right shoulder firmly and carefully, conveying the silent support she needed so much at that moment.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Matt asked, tilting his head down so he could look better at her.

"Of course I am." She responded, swallowing hard, trying to force a smile while focusing her eyes on his, though her voice betrayed her anxiety.

Nick and Chris were a little further away, on her right side and close to the large wall of windows, their expressions a mixture of concern and unsuccessful attempts to hide their laughter. The fact that Nick knew what the feeling and procedure was like made him more amused by her present and future state.

As the doctor began moving equipment, Y/N watched curiously. She extended her right arm, allowing one of the nurses to attach the blood pressure and heart rate monitor to the correct location, feeling a shiver run down her spine. This was getting very real very fast.

"I feel like an astronaut about to take off." Y/N teased, biting her bottom lip lightly, trying to ease the tension out of herself.

"Well, at least there's no zero gravity to deal with." Nick chuckled softly, zooming the camera to the surrounding equipment before looking at the girl, offering her a reassuring smile.

Chris let out a laugh at his response, it echoing through the office and bringing a bit of lightness to the tense environment.

"I hate that sound. It reminds me of Grey's Anatomy, exactly when a patient is about to die." The girl said suddenly, pointing with her chin at the machine where the sounds of her heart were coming from.

"Hey, don't say that." Matt warned amid laughter, shaking his head while still caressing her shoulder, squeezing the area gently to relieve her muscle tension.

As the doctor began to prepare the IV, Y/N felt a wave of panic pass through her body. She looked at the thin tube with wide eyes and an expression of horror, watching him take off the cover and connect the wire to the syringe with the anesthesia.

"Matt." She muttered in a shaky voice, her lips trembling again as she clenched her right hand into a fist, accidentally letting the heart rate meter slip out.

"Hey, pretty girl, I'm right here. I won't leave your side, I promise. When you wake up, we can get ice cream from that ice cream shop you love, huh?" Matt curved his spine slightly so that his face was close to hers, holding her chin with his free hand and pulling it towards him, looking deep into his girl's eyes.

Chris quickly moved forward, taking her best friend's right hand gently and arranging the meter back into its correct place.

The doctor finished preparing the IV and approached Y/N with it, extending the girl's left arm gently and cleaning the injection site. Y/N forced herself to keep her eyes fixed on the blue ones she loved, Matt quickly acting to cover the exposed side of her head with the palm of his free hand, creating a covering over her eyes.

The girl her breath as the doctor inserted the needle into her vein, feeling it enter centimeter by centimeter, but to her surprise, it didn't hurt as much as she expected.

"It's not that bad." The girl murmured seconds after feeling the needle not moving anymore, feeling a little relieved, blinking repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears away.

"See? You're doing so good, my love. My brave girl." Matt smiled big, tilting his face forward and kissing her forehead gently.

As the anesthesia began to take effect, Y/N felt a tingling sensation spread throughout her body. She blinked a few times, trying to get used to the strange sensation and regain her vision, which was becoming slightly blurred.

"When did the ceiling start dancing?" Y/N asked, interrupting what Nick was reporting to the camera, her eyes fixed on the ceiling that seemed to be moving erratically.

Matt laughed softly, his hand - still on his girlfriend's shoulder - shook slightly from the action, being followed by Chris and Nick, their laughter filling the office.

"I think the anesthesia is taking effect." Chris watched in amusement, crossing his arms and approaching, his voice sounding a little distant to the girl's ears.

Y/N laughed, feeling lighter than ever, blinking slowly.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm really enjoying it." She said groggily, her voice sounding sleepy as she gave in to the anesthesia.

"Baby-" Matt began, his speech being interrupted by his own laughter, his index and thumb fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief. "What's your word, love?"

But the answer didn't come, his girlfriend having given herself over to a deep anesthesia-induced sleep.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N blinked her eyes slowly, trying to focus her vision as the haze of sleep began to dissipate. She felt groggy and disoriented, but a sense of relief washed over her body when she understood that the surgery was over. She blinked a few times, trying to take in her surroundings.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you feeling?” Nick asked in a calm tone, leaning closer to her with a gentle smile, giving space for the camera in Chris' hands to capture the moment.

Y/N turned her head towards him, blinking slowly, her mind still clouded trying to assimilate that it was Nick there with her.

"As if I'd been run over by an elephant." She murmured, her voice sounding strangely loud to her own ears, shaking her head from side to side as fast as she could, trying to stay conscious.

Matt entered the room again, having gone away for some minutes to talk to the doctor about post-surgical care, his serious face lighting up when he noticed Y/N already awake.

"Look who's back! Are you okay, sweetheart?" The boy asked, extending out his hand and reaching for hers, holding it tenderly and firmly, stroking the back of her palm with his thumb.

"I-" As soon as Y/N opened her mouth to speak, one of the gauze that sealed the right side of her mouth above her gums escaped her lips. Her eyes instantly widened, a loud sound of surprise echoing through the room. "Oh no, my tongue fell out."

"Your-" Chris began, his own laughter interrupting his sentence.

Matt turned to the camera, laughing loudly as he closed his eyes tightly, keeping his hand on his girlfriend's shoulder, trying to hide his own reaction from her.

"That's not your tongue, baby." The brunette said while still laughing, shaking his head.

"It is! They made my tongue fall out and removed my cheeks." The girl fumed, rolling her eyes nervously as she tried to cross her arms, the loud alarm sound echoing from the heart rate meter machine abruptly interrupting her action.

"Y/N, you can't take out the meter." Nick warned in a firm tone, arranging the small equipment back on her finger with his free hand.

"I'm sweating, I need to take this off. It's making me overheat." The girl spoke again, ignoring the demanding tone Nick was using, waving her arm with the IV in the air, silently indicating that she was talking about her hoodie.

"But you love wearing hoodie, pretty." Matt murmured, frowning as he leaned over her upper body, lowering her arm gently.

"Not this one! I like yours. Mine is a piece of shit." Y/N exclaimed as if it was obvious, rolling her eyes again.

The sound of Nick's loud laughter echoed off the walls of the small room, as Matt stared at her in disbelief, widening his eyes and taking them from his girl to the camera and back again.

"Here, baby." The boy sighted, taking his hand off Y/N's shoulder momentarily so that he could pull his own hoodie up, passing the piece over his arms before arranging it on the correct side, leaving his own upper body covered only by a white t-shirt. "You can have mine."

Matt stretched the hoodie over Y/N's upper body, keeping it over her own hoodie, knowing he wouldn't be able to take it off due to the IV.

"Thank you, kind sir." Y/N genuinely thanked him, opening a big and childlike smile. "Oh no, take this one off and put yours on me, Matty." She spoke again seconds later after noticing that her boyfriend's hoodie was just resting on her body.

“No way, Y/N, you have the IV.” Chris answered for Matt, briefly pointing to his best friend's left arm.

"What... Wow, what is this? Am I a toy or something?" The girl's tone came out louder than expected, her eyes widening comically as she raised her arm again, seeming to remember just at that moment the small thread that connected the needle to the anesthesia.

"It's the IV, my love. It's harmless, I promise. Does it hurt?" Matt explains gently, leaning into her slightly and squeezing her shoulder gently, drawing her attention back to him.

"No... Are they gonna fix my tongue?" Y/N returned to the first subject in a matter of seconds, lowering her gaze and focusing on the piece of blood red gauze above, now, Matt's hoodie.

"That's not your tongue, Y/N. It's just gauze. Put it back." Nick spoke this time, zooming in on the camera to catch his best friend's next reaction.

"I can't do it. There's an electrical wire connected to me." The girl remembered, rolling her eyes and raising her IV-covered arm, focusing her eyes there for a few seconds.

"Then ask your boyfriend."

"I have a boyfriend?!" Y/N turned her face towards the triplets abruptly, her eyes filling with tears within seconds as her lips trembled comically, even though she herself had been calling Matt "baby" this entire time.

"Of course you do, sweet girl. I'm right here. Remember? I'm your boyfriend, Matt." Matt quickly responded, his tone coming out as gentle as never before. He crouched on the floor, resting on his bent knees so that he was at eye level with her, giving her a genuine smile.

"Oh my God, that's awesome! You're so pretty. How did I manage to win you?" Y/N asked excitedly, raising her right hand and bringing it to her supposed boyfriend's face, cupping his right cheek lightly, feeling the skin heat up beneath her fingers.

A sound of surprise escaped Matt's lips as the heart rate monitor preacher almost stabbed into his eye, a low chuckle following soon after.

"You didn't have to win me, I was the one that had to win you, babe." The boy declared, leaning closer to her and sealing the tip of her nose for long seconds, pulling away in time to see her close her eyes and wrinkle her nose cutely. "We'll go home soon, okay? I love you, sweetheart. You were so brave."

"You love me?" Y/N exclaimed again, the tears that had been in her eyes until that moment finally spilling over and rolling down her cheeks, leaving a wet, red trail behind, her skin reacting instantly to the intense emotions.

"I do, my love. I love you very much."

Nick and Chris watched the scene with eyes full of amusement, the camera capturing every second of the couple's interaction and the muffled laughs that the two emitted behind the lens.

"So, are you comfortable on that "chair"?" Chris asked suddenly, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Y/N snapped her head towards the youngest, opening her mouth slightly and processing his question for a few seconds.

"Yeah." The girl nodded slowly, removing her right hand from Matt's face and feeling the upholstery of the chair beneath her.

"Is it better than my gaming chair?" Nick asked then, smiling behind the camera, briefly remembering the times his best friend found refuge in his room and the two spent hours talking while she sat comfortably in his gaming chair.

"Do you have a chair?" She asked with wide eyes, tilting her head up to see Nick better, slightly pushing Matt to the side with her free hand, earning a laugh from Chris when he saw his brother almost fall completely onto the cold floor.

"Yeah, you have one, too! And so does Matt."

"I have a chair? For myself?" Her lips formed an involuntary pout, her eyes filling with tears again, the previous ones having stopped flowing only seconds before, her emotions acting on their own.

"Of course you do, baby! You study on it and play video games on my computer on it, too." Matt stated, nodding quickly as he returned to his previous position. "Now, do you remember who I am?"

Y/N turned her gaze back to Matt again, her orbs traveling over every detail of his face, her lower lip trembling slightly as her heart clenched tightly inside her chest. He was so beautiful.

"My baby, my baby-" A sob interrupted her speech, tears escaping her eyes like waterfalls. "You're my baby. I love you s-so much. You're- You're so p-pretty!"

"Yeah, sweet girl! Well done, I'm your baby, and I love you way more." The brunette replied in a bashful tone, pouting as he watched her cry like a little kid over something so simple, his own eyes welling with tears.

"You two are unbelievable." Chris shook his head, crossing his arms and looking into the camera lens with a look of "do you believe this?"

"Matty." The girl called again a few seconds later, ignoring the youngest of the triplets, closing her eyes tightly to wipe away the tears stuck in her eyelashes, her nose sniffling repeatedly. She took a deep breath and sticked her swollen tongue out of her mouth, trying to lick the tears that rested on her upper lip, even without feeling absolutely anything in the region. "I think my mouth is on its period..."

"Oh my God, baby, what?"

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@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @iammattswife @xoxo4chrisss @imtalkinnonsense

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[chalkrevelations]

And another thing. I know I've mostly talked about Boston since I finished watching the finale, but the more I think about the absolute character assassination Only Friends did on Nick in that last conversation with Boston, the more pissed off I get.

To have the one man who actually sees Boston as fully human and complex, who's been given access to a side of Boston that's normally protected behind so much armor no one sees it, who's literally been told by Boston that Boston can do care and sweetness, not just sex, and that he wants a chance to have that in some way - to have that man look Boston in the face and say "No, you're lying to yourself when you say you want sweetness and romance, you should just be lonely" is like - what the actual fuck did I just watch? Nick would never.

That last conversation is infuriating. And not because Nick's saying, we want different things and we aren't going to work together as a couple, although I've seen plenty of people try to flatten dissatisfaction about Boston's ending and the BostonNick ending into simple unhappiness about the pair not ending up together. No, it's because Nick utterly discounts and ignores what Boston has said he wants for himself, just like other people have repeatedly done when Boston's tried to delineate his boundaries, just like Nick himself did before he had 9 episodes of a growth arc, in whatever little snips of time the show begrudgingly gave these two characters. It's Nick telling Boston not to even try finding what he needs and wants with someone else, that he should lock himself back into a loveless existence, in his darkroom, without light and air, making no more intimate connection with the men he fucks than looking at them through his camera lens, a connection that's not even real enough to make the photo he took of Nick worth keeping. It's Nick gaslighting him by telling him he'd be happier that way, in spite of Boston's expressed desires.

And it's Nick - the only person who's ever expressed any appreciation for his art - discounting that art.

Boston takes off some of his armor for Nick, and the show hands Nick a knife and has him stab Boston in the soft places that are subsequently exposed.

It's not as ham-handed a character assassination as Boston literally leaving Nick on the dancefloor and two drinks on the bar to go fuck in an alley because he's so instantly dickmatized by a random guy and then having him lie about it, in the face of 11.5 episodes of being the one character who'll always throw the truth in your face whether you want it or not, because apparently he's panting after dick so bad - because he's a slut, ya know - that he can't keep a promise to Nick for a week, let alone four months the show needed some excuse to set this relationship and Boston's character in particular on fire. But it is almost as egregious.

And it's Nick being used as a mouthpiece for the show's shockingly moralistic agenda about casual sex, how it's bad, how those who do it are bad, and how it's apparently antithetical to care and romance and love. Boston is lying to himself when he says emotional commitment and physical sex are different things, Nick and the show say here. Anything other than monogamous, heteronormative relationships mean that you're supposed to be forever alone, this supposedly queer show about queers tells me, through Nick's mouth.

They might as well have just reached out of the screen and stabbed me.

[jamiemaybeme]

Doing This Again by Bears In Trees: An Unnecessarily Deep Analysis by me

( @bearsintreesofficial please if you only see one of my posts ever let it be this one i worked so hard 🥲)

i'm bored, and i want to yell about my hyperfixations on the internet, so have fun :D

(i will preface this by saying that it will be LONG. i wrote this in a notebook and initially i was going to just upload a photo, but my annotations are too small to be seen on camera. make of that what you will.)

!!ALSO THIS IS IMPORTANT!!: these are my interpretations. i do not know if the band intended to communicate everything i've understood from this song (i expect they didn't actually), and it's perfectly valid for you to have different interpretations to me. it's encouraged.

also (sorry one last thing) i will refer to "the singer" like i would a poet, even though i know the singer didn't write the song. just roll with it.

okay now onto the actual analysis (below the cut off so people who don't want to read it don't have to scroll for ages). enjoy!!

verse one:

i hope to be happy, i hope to be calm

i hope to be somewhat content

the song begins with an expectation. the singer 'hopes' to be something, which is a goal for the future. the repetition adds to this. it shows the amount of expectations the singer has. it reads like the beginning of a new year, when one makes new year's resolutions. this comparison could imply the singer is unlikely to stick to these expectations, as people are infamous for only sticking with new year's resolutions during january. this sets up the mood of the song: the struggle of attempting to break free from old habits and the mundanity of life, and the frustration that comes with that.

however, the singer only hopes to be 'somewhat content'. the word 'somewhat' makes it clear the singer is trying to lower their expectations to be achievable. the word 'hope' is also not a guarantee. the singer does not know if they will feel the way they want to. it is a 'hope' they are holding onto, perhaps to help them keep going.

the word 'calm' directly contrasts the name of one of the band's previous eps, i want to feel chaotic, which features their most streamed song ramblings of a lunatic. the ep focuses on struggling to cope with trauma and turning to your friends in times of difficulties. this song is a step away from processing trauma, and instead focuses on day-to-day life. this contrast is shown through the choice of the word 'calm'.

(also there's the whole i wanna feel calm/i wanna feel chaotic comparison but that's not directly related so i'm ignoring it. maybe i'll post about it later 👀.)

verse one (continued):

every morning, i wake up

and think to myself, "oh God, we're doing this again!"

'every morning i wake up' is also repeated throughout the song as the first line of the chorus. the repetition combined with the hyperbole communicates the singer's frustration. they feel stuck in a loop, which the structure of the song shows us.

'"oh God"' can be interpreted in a few ways. (this is actually the main reason i decided to analyse this song specifically, because it felt like i had so much to say.) interpretation number one: it could, simply, be a blasphemous curse. a teenage rebellion against parents or school. (context: nick - who i'm 90% sure wrote this - went to a catholic secondary school with two of the others. i believe. i think those two were iain and callum.) it also could show how the singer is just like everyone else, as this is a common phrase. this adds to my previous point about being stuck in a loop, except now it includes other people. it makes the song feel more relatable. i feel like this one is more accurate to what the singer is trying to convey. and interpretation number two: however, it could also be read as a cry for help, to God. 'God' could be interpreted as anyone or anything, but in the context it's in, i'm assuming it is talking about God in christianity. it sets up the next verse nicely too.

verse two:

i hope i'll be resilient

i hope to be brave in the face of another family cancer

my mother cites a rosary downstairs

but Lord these blessed words fail me

first i'll talk about the religious imagery, linked to the last line of the previous verse.

'rosary', 'Lord' and 'blessed' are all directly related to religion, specifically catholicism (a branch of christianity if anyone is unaware). throughout most bears in trees songs, there runs a theme of religion, and with it religious trauma. a 'rosary' is, i believe, a string of beads which you move as you pray. (please bear in mind i do not follow catholicism so i am not sure how accurate this is. i could look it up but in all honesty if i stop writing rn idk if i'll continue.) the singer seems to be attempting to reach God, but is struggling due to some unseen reason. perhaps it is something they themselves are also unaware of.

the theme of 'hope' is once again repeated in this verse, carrying it on from verse one.

'another family cancer' talks about an awful event. we are not told whether it ends in tragedy (death), joy (being cancer free), or continues as an ongoing battle. this a) makes the song more relatable, as most people have known someone who's battled cancer, and b) may potentially mean the singer has not yet experienced this but is expecting to (expectations again). the word 'another' adds to the idea of being stuck in a loop. (if you're starting to notice a pattern: congratulations! you've cracked the code.)

the word 'downstairs' shows separation between the singer's mother and themself (is it themselves or themself i can't work it out?), but could also be a metaphor for the distance the singer feels from God or even religion entirely. this is portrayed by having their mother praying at the same time the singer is struggling to connect with the words. the physical distance between the singer and their mother is a symbol of the metaphorical distance between the singer and God/catholicism.

the verse ends with the phrase 'fail me'. in the context of the analysis, it seems they are either struggling to turn to God for help, or do not feel God is helping. however, they may believe God is the one failing them. it can be extremely difficult to pray to someone or something that you can't see, especially when there doesn't seem to be a response. they either believe they are failing God because they can't communicate properly, or God is failing them because there has been no (obvious) response. alternatively, if we take it in the context of the song it could show how the singer is struggling to live up to the expectations (🙃) set by themself or others, and feel like a failure. (i will admit, this one is a little bit of a stretch. but it's analysis, everything's a stretch 🤷.)

pre-chorus? (i don't think it is but idk what else to call it so w/e):

i just wanna welcome all the broken people

the juxtaposition (i love that word) of 'just' and 'all' really communicates the singer's expectations of themself. they are under playing welcoming everyone into some sort of family or home, by specifying 'just' the 'broken people'. however, everyone is 'broken' in some way or another, so the singer's desire to accept the 'broken' people essentially encompasses the whole world. this is a high expectation. it is quite literally impossible. yet the singer seems to believe they should be able to to do it, as the word 'just' makes it sound easy. potentially they haven't fully considered the situation.

the word 'welcome' could have biblical connotations. Jesus was all about welcoming people, even those on the outside of society, the 'broken people', some might even say. (some being me. i'm saying that.) the singer seems to be attempting to fulfil the role of God in their life within which God is not present - either by their choice or by their interpretation.

chorus:

every morning i wake up, and i drink my silly little oak milk coffee

and i text my silly little texts, and my phone's still on autocorrect

just going to briefly remind you of the repetition of 'every morning i wake up' continued from the last line of verse one. okay that's it.

the singer decribes their interests as 'silly little' things. it's sung twice per chorus, which shows it's not just one aspect of their life. this could be read as a dismissal of their interests, but could equally be seen as them embracing their interests being seen as 'silly'. they are claiming their interests with the personal pronoun 'my'. this could show how they're not ashamed of the things they like.

chorus (continued):

so i gotta backspace, take my caps out

'cause i'm too lazy to change the settings, too hazy to hum myself to sleep

oh my God, we're doing this again

once again there's the idea of expectations. the modal 'gotta' shows the singer feels like they must do things they have decided to (in this instance type in all lower case, something that is considered trivial and unimportant).

the singer is aware of the fact they might be perceived as 'lazy'. this might be because they genuinely are lazy, or it could be a sign they are struggling, potentially with a mental illness or being burnt out.

they decribe themself as 'hazy', which implies they are disorientated or overwhelmed.

the pronoun 'my' has been added to the last line compared to the first verse. this makes it closer to blasphemy than a cry for help, but it still could be either.

the collective noun 'we're' addresses the audience directly, letting them know that they are not alone and the singer struggles with the same things they do (basically 🎶 we're all in this together! 🎶).

verse three:

i hope to be neurotic, go lucky

young upstart and plucky

there's the repetition of 'i hope' in this verse once again, but it's only in this verse once. this could show the singer either losing hope or struggling to keep up with all their expectations. (i know it's almost certainly for timing reasons but i didn't title this over analysing for no reason.)

(psa: this paragraph is almost entirely irrelevant i just wanted to rant about psychology) neuroticism is one of the three personality traits in eysenck's criminal personality theory. it is a trait that measures how anxious an individual is. the theory states that criminal behaviour is fixed from birth, and is mostly affected by biological factors. it theorises people are born with the urge to commit criminal acts. the other two traits featured in this theory are extraversion (how out-going an individual is) and psychoticism (how aggressive and impulsive an individual is). there was also a study done by heaven in 1996 based on this theory, but he did not measure neuroticism as he felt that would have been too hard (instead opting for self-esteem, which showed no correlation to criminality). none of this is particularly related, i just think it's cool and wanted to infodump :].

my gcse psychology textbook (this is pretty much the only time i've actually used it btw 😭) says about neuroticism that "people who score high on neuroticism are anxious, angry and prone to feeling guilt. at the opposite end is stability. stable people tend to be calm, even-tempered and not easily stressed. of course, it is possible to be in between these two extremes too." i'm not really sure what to think about this, but it's certainly interesting to think that the singer wants to feel/be this way. idk man i'm too tired to think about this too deeply.

'go lucky' is shortened from the phrase "happy go lucky". the lack of the word 'happy' shows the singer doesn't even have it in them to yearn for happiness, they just want to be anything other than apathetic.

I'VE JUST REALISED THAT THE FIRST LINE OF THIS VERSE CONTRASTS THE FIRST LINE OF VERSE ONE OMDS THIS IS CRAZY. the opposite of being 'neurotic' (i hope to be neurotic) is being 'calm' (i hope to be calm), and the word 'happy' (i hope to be happy) completes the phrase "happy 'go lucky'" (i hope to be..., go lucky).

verse three (continued):

anatomically correct beating heart of the party

and i could be your vena cava

pumping small talk between your trauma

while the red stains your new carpet

the specification of an 'anatomically correct heart' shows the singer's desire to not be artificial. it may also be a way to show they want to embrace a nerdier side of themself.

being the 'heart' or "life" 'of the party' means someone who is at the centre of the party. often the party properly gets started when they arrive, and ends when they leave. it is a common trope in teen films, which links back to the recurring theme of being stuck in a loop with everyone else.

the 'vena cava' is a vein (?) in the heart. i'm not really sure what it does but i have a biology exam in two days at the time of writing this (one day at the time of editing oh no) so i probably should. it might be an artery. either way, i THINK it carries blood away from the heart. whether it goes to the lungs or some other part of the body i am unsure. i should probably find that out soon. anyway.

the heart is a muscle that pumps blood - that is its function. the singer could be saying they want to be strong for their friend, or be crucial for them to live, much like the heart is. 'small talk' has replaced blood in their veins (metaphorically just in case that was unclear), showing how everyone else seems to live off of small talk. in 'i am cold', a song from the ep 'i see blue', the first two lines are 'don't talk about the weather / i wanna know what makes you sick'. in some interview or something somewhere either nick or iain (this is so specific ik) explains that this line means the singer wants to skip small talk and get straight to the deep things. this combined with this song makes the singer feel different to everyone else. they seem to be breaking the cycle but at the same time still contributing to it by helping their friend make small talk (it's 1am sorry if that made no sense).

in 'i wanna feel calm', a song from bears in trees' latest album 'how to build an ocean: instructions' which was also released as the second single out of four before the album, the first line is 'i try not to let my trauma do the talking but from time to time the "t"s add up'. this shows how the singer struggles not to trauma dump as a way of making conversation (relatable), but here they are helping their friend avoid doing the same thing by 'pumping small talk between their trauma'. alternatively, it could be that their friend is trauma dumping to a third party and the singer keeps interjecting (is that a word?? i thought it was but my keyboard didn't recognise it?) with 'small talk' to try and lighten the mood/distract from their friend.

the colour imagery choice is interesting, as 'red' has a lot of connotations. first and foremost is obviously blood based on the previous imagery used. it is also the colour of passion, whether that be passionate love, hate, anger or fear. it also signifies danger. the point is, passion is the opposite of apathy, which is the way the singer has seemed to portray their reaction in relation to the mundanity of life throughout the song so far.

however, whilst 'red' is more subjective, the word 'stains' has way more negative connotations than positive. a stain is generally unwanted, like a weed. it's a memory the singer it their friend wants to forget, but can't.

the 'new carpet' could refer to them trying to start afresh, the 'new carpet' being a new mindset. however, it very quickly gets stained showing the inevitably of life. alternatively, the singer could be referencing red wine- a red liquid which stains- or something similar, ie it could be literal.

(the chorus repeats here but i'm not repeating my analysis because there's literally no point [: )

bridge:

every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye

every moonbeam, every fever dream

every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye

every moonbeam, every fever dream

'every' is once again repeated here, but 10 times instead of 1 (20 in the whole bridge but 10 in each section i've split it into).

once again, it is a reminder of the inevitably of the existence of the mundane, everyday things of life. 'sunrises' and 'moonbeams' directly contrast, to show that the cycle happens all the time. these two things are also part of nature. they also happen everyday, whether you see them or not. 'street signs' are man made, but are still very common. 'goodbyes' are inevitable. for every hello there is a goodbye; they are unavoidable. they can be sad, they can be bittersweet, they can be happy (if you dislike the person enough). 'fever dreams' are uncontrollable. they happen while you are in a state that you cannot control, and are weird. this line feels like the singer is embracing the weird parts of life, even things they cannot control.

bridge (continued):

wouldn't you love to be happy? (every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye)

wouldn't you love to go outside for a change? (every moonbeam, every fever dream)

and i don't mean in body (every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye)

i mean embody, i mean embody (every moonbeam, every fever dream)

(note: this is pretty much where my notebook annotations end; i gave up and forgot about it. the rest is likely to be less coherent than the above, just a warning. okay back to it.)

the singer begins to directly question the audience here, addressing them like at the end of the choruses. however, they could be just using the audience to address themself. this is the final reference to expectations in the song, and now it's more of a wish than something that the singer feels they should be. "'wouldn't you love' to do these things? it would be amazing if i could, but i can't. i would love the ability to get myself together, but it feels impossible right now." this reminds me of the chorus of 'great heights' a song from both the album 'and everybody else smiled back' and one of three songs released earlier as singles. 'we'd reach such great heights / if we could just make our beds in the morning.' this is a reference explained by nick in a tiktok video somewhere to a sign he is entering a dissociative episode: he stops making his bed. this whole song ('doing this again') tackles the issue of mental illnesses and struggling to cope with the mundanity of life. the singer feels if they could just complete these simple tasks that seem so huge, bigger things would be so much easier to tackle. they feel if they can get out of their head, they could take over the world. but they can't take over the world without going outside. 'outside' could mean literally out their house, or could be outside their mind. (this is confirmed as being mental in the next two lines 'i don't mean in body, i mean embody'.)

the singer finally suggests 'a change' could be good. this is the first (and only) time in the song anything other than the "same old thing"™ is mentioned. they are trying to entice themself into wanting this by asking it as a question. this is a psychological trick often used on children - if you make someone think it was their own idea they are way more likely to do what you want them to do.

the word 'embody' crops up later in 'bart's bike', a song that wraps up how the years 2022 - 2023 (i believe. from what i've heard) felt, and reminisces on them. that would include this ep/song, which was released in november 2022. 'i know you meant embody / when you looked to the mountains, towering above us'. this callback shows how far the singer has come. either they are talking to themself in third person, or their friend is saying this. the friend may be someone who has helped the singer through the period of their life where they struggled with apathy. another song from this era is 'apathy is boring', which talks about rejecting apathy as a coping mechanism and embracing our emotions. 'the mountains' are symbolic of the tasks they've been talking about struggling with the whole song. the pronoun 'us' shows how the singer is not alone, and even though they still have struggles they don't have to face them alone. the parallels between this song and the 'how to stay shining' era shows the singer's improving mental health. the band have talked before about how they don't like dwelling on bad things that have happened, as good things happen too and it's important not to focus on all the wrong things. healing is a progress, and these two songs ('doing this again' and 'bart's bike') were released almost exactly a year apart ('bart's bike' was released on december 1st 2023. 'doing this again' was released on october 28th 2022, but 'every moonbeam every fever dream' (the full ep) was released on november 11th 2022.) this is both symbolic of a person healing over time and shows the band maturing/getting better over time. it's sweet and it's not unrealistically fast.

there's also the repetition of 'every sunrise...' here, which is just another example of the mundanity of everyday life.

(the chorus repeats one more time here)

outro:

every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye (again)

every moonbeam every fever dream (again)

every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye (again)

every moonbeam every fever dream (we're doing this again)

this is how the song ends. it feels bittersweet. the singer seems to have accepted their fate of continuously doing the same thing. the word 'again' is repeated 4 times in this section. the singer is focused on it now more than the rest of the song. (this probably means something but it's like 2am so ifk whay.) this is the last section of the song, but the singer is showing that their everyday life is not over. however, they may choose to find hope in this. we don't know, because the song ends much like the rest of it: with repetition symbolic of the middle of life.

the last line is 'we're doing this agin' which uses the pronoun 'we're' and also extends the phrase. the audience is left on the note that whilst the mundanity of life still repeats, it's easier when it's not just you. this relates to the 'bart's bike' line i referenced earlier, when the singer talks about mountains towering above 'us'. the use of collective pronouns throughout this song give hope to the audience. the song tells us that we are not alone, and there is hope to be found.

okay i've just fksihed writing this and it's like 2:15 am i'll edit it later i have an exam in <7 hourd i'm gonna fail yay :')

alright, 'nught :]

okay it's now 4.30pm and i've just finished editing. if you got this far, thank you so much. if you didn't, thank you anyway. i repeated myself so much in my analysis, but maybe that's to communicate meaning! (it's not but we can pretend it is.) i hope you enjoyed reading this. have a good timezone and please tell me if you want me to repeat this with another song. it might not be quite to this extent but i can try. (also i don't think i failed my english exam so that's good :D)

see you in the next one! (maybe. hopefully.) and go and stream how to build an ocean: instructions!!!

[cybrpwup]

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ || ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴇʟꜰʜᴀʀᴍ

Warnings [DO NOT IGNORE!!]: heavy topics: self harm [cutting, burning, hitting, disordered eating] Summary: how the boys would react to your self harm Requested?; no !

## Isaacwhy <3

Isaac felt stupid for not noticing Y/n’s self harm tendencies before

He noticed it way before even realizing it was self harm

He’d catch her punching, hitting, or pulling her own hair out when stressed

He was concerned for her.

Even before he knew about the things she did behind closed doors.

But he never said anything to her

Blood dripped onto the floor, and her quiet sobs muffled the pillow she was holding against her face.

“Yo, Y/n, Nick wants to know if-“

His voice got closer, and Y/n’s breath sped up as he opened the door.

He’d seen her

He saw.

“What are you doing?”

He knew.

She was frozen expect for the tears that were rolling down her cheeks

He kneeled down next to the girl

“Y/n. There was no reason for this. Why?” He said, confused and angry that she’d done this to herself

“I’m sorry.” She managed to get out

Isaac then got back up, going into the bathroom cabinet for some bandages and a cloth.

He’d put the cloth under warm water, and then kneeled again, dabbing the wound with the cloth, gently.

“Don’t be sorry. don’t cry.”

He grabbed ahold of her chin and tilted her head to look at him

“I get you’re scared and upset, but there’s no need for this. I can help you. I want to help you.”

He was gentle as he bandaged her arm.

He didn’t quite understand why she would do this, but he tried to understand.

His first priority was her — his girlfriend

“I - I know I’m just- I’m tired, Isaac.” She sobbed.

He pulled her into his arms, his touch was warm and reassuring

He managed to get her up and onto the bed.

“I’m so fucking tired.”

He let her sob into his chest, her cries being muffled out

He did his best to calm her down

She’d been crying so hard her throat began to hurt, and she could barely breathe.

Isaac laid down next to her and rubbed her back.

“Hey, you’re okay.” He cooed

“You’ll be okay.”

He wrapped his arms around her without saying a word, letting her talk when she felt like it.

## softwilly/Nick <3

While it was fun for Nick to angrily defend himself when someone commented about his weight, it was not in truth something he cared about. As long as he had skin to keep his organs in and bones to hold the skin up, that was all that mattered to him.

It was Isaac who first pointed out that his girlfriend might not see it the same. Nick was not observant, but following that conversation, he tried a little harder, and he noticed some things.  

Y/N refused to get changed in the same room as him or wear clothes that fit her properly. She also twice blew up at him for changing dinner plans as if it were his fault the restaurant was closed or too busy to seat them.

When Nick's hands fit easily around every body part, he caught on.

He'd catch her checking her stomach in every reflective surface and he could visibly see her ribcage.

When his hands fit so perfectly around her waist that’s when he really got concerned.

“You’re not eating as much as you should.” And there it was out in the open. Nick did not have time to even think how best to approach the topic before his concern overrode his rationale and took control of his mouth – spilling the words out messily.

She’d just shrugged, denying all claims of her eating habits.

“Baby, your waist is so small…”

She’d pulled her shirt down and pushed Nick's hand away.

She tried to tell him she was just working out, however he knew this was a lie.

She’d have at least some sort of muscle definition at this point

“Look at you, Nick. Look at your friends! Attractive, successful social media influencers. I’m not dumb. Ok? I know the type of women who get with guys like you – they’re graceful, camera-ready goddesses. They’re not fat.”

The last word broke off in her mouth and shattered against the floor. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she was quick to turn from Nick and wipe them with the back of her hand. All the while, her set jaw, and tense muscles worked to maintain her previous unfalteringly stern expression.

All Nick could muster amidst his bewilderment was a meek, “You’re not fat.”

“I know. Why do you think that is?”

“You don’t understand. You’re noticeably thinner. It’s enough that people are asking me if you’re alright. A quarter of the comments on the last video you were in are accusing me of like forcing diet pills down your throat or other bullshit. Even Tanner and Isaac and them have brought it up.”

It took another few moments for either to speak as it seemed the subject was dropped altogether.

The solemn silence between them broke

“I’m breaking up with you,” Nick said.

His hard-hitting gaze coaxed a temporary softness from Y/N. Her shoulders relaxed, even turning inward, a hesitant smile on her lips as she searched his face for the joke.

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m serious. If you refuse to get better, to even try, then I’m not going to be there while you make yourself worse.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Sure, I do. Bye, Y/N.”

Nick left the house angry

Y/N: alright, I get it, v dramatic. You made your point

…

Y/N: this is so stupid!

Y/N: don’t be a dick. text me back.

…

Y/N: you’re serious? All this over what 3kgs???

Y/N: Fuck you!! I don’t care I’ll go out by myself!

…

Y/N: answer the phone. Coward.

…

Y/N: must be hard to ghost me on every platform

…

Y/N: ok I get it

Y/N: isn’t 72hours a fair punishment? come by so we can make up.

Y/N: answer the phone.

…

Y/N: Nick, I get it. I’m not alright

Y/N: I’m sorry, Answer the phone, and we can talk, please!

…

Y/N: I need help

Y/N: I’ve made an appointment with a psychiatrist.

Y/N: she specializes in eating disorders.

Nick: When’s the appointment?

Y/N: Thursday @ 11

Nick: I’ll be at yours with the uber at 10. I’m sorry too.

## Tanner/Big T <3

It was Saturday.

Tanner was having trouble focusing on the beautiful woman snuggled up in his arms with her legs tangled with his. Nor could he concentrate on the film his laptop set up near them was playing. No. His mind was elsewhere – not that that was terribly unusual – thinking about one thing in particular: a thirteen-word (give or take) comment left under his most recent video.

“why does Y/N seem so nervous?? she pulls at her sleeves at 1:15 3:22 5:01 8:13 9:43 AND 9:59”

Tanner had not noticed Y/N being nervous in the video.

She sounded the same to him as she always had. Maybe it was odd she was wearing a hoodie when it was in the mid-to-high twenties all week but it was not that unusual – right?

Looking down at her, Tanner did not think she looked different or acted differently.

She was Y/N. In a hoodie. Pushing the sleeves down every time she shifted positions.

Or else he could see red marks on her arms.

Huh.

He watched her another moment. Sure enough, several open-ended oval marks were peeking out under her cuffs.

Tanner’s eyes fluttered to Y/N’s face and her hair.

She had two barrettes pulling her hair back, but beyond keeping it out of her face, their designs were chosen to match her outfit.

“What are you looking at?” she giggled, smiling at him.

Without a word, he reached for her hair and snatched a barrette, then in almost a single swooping motion pinned the accessory to the exposed skin of her wrist.

Perfectly matching the shapes – matching the burn marks.

“These are—”

With a strong but not unkind or rough grip, he took both of her wrists in his hands and pulled them forward so both of her arms were exposed.

She’d pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth as a wave of fresh hot humiliation washed over her

Each of her scars were laid out for him to see

She ducked her head down and braced for the oncoming string of harsh remarks

But they never came.

She clenched her jaw and tried to keep the tears from rolling down her face, but they did, and she almost felt betrayed by your body.

“I'm.. sorry," she managed to get out.

"No, you have nothing to apologise for," Tanner assured

"I hate this," She said as her sobs slowly started to trail off.

"I know, baby, I know. Me too," he replied.

Tanners actions were so gentle and full of love.

He gently kissed each scar and pulled her sleeves back down.

"It's ok, baby," he told her, pulling her into his arms again. "We will fight this, I promise."

"It's hard," she muttered into his chest.

"I know, I'm not saying it isn't.”

One day Tanner approached Y/n

"You know, when it all gets too much and you get that urge, you can hold an ice cube until it melts or wear a hair-tie or elastic band around your wrist and snap it against yourself."

"Tanner, have you been looking that up?" She asked him, wondering where this knowledge had come from.

"Maybe," he replied, sheepishly. "You're my main baby girl, I've gotta do what I can to protect you, even if its from yourself."

She couldn't help but giggle at his words. "Thank you. That means so much,"

Squeezing her tightly, he placed a kiss on the top of her head, knowing that for now there were no more words needed.

## Yumi <3

Yumi had walked in on Y/n after a session one time

hellooo, Y/n?” Yumi called, knocking on her door. “you there?”

She forgot about Yumi.

“Y/n?” he said, his voice slightly muffled through the door.

She stood upright, panic flowing through her veins.

“Blake? i’m sorry, i slept in!” She blurted

She sprinted into the bathroom, almost knocking the door down as she shakily removed any evidence of her prior activities.

“love? are you okay?” he said, his voice laced with concern.

“yes, i’m fine!”

the stains wouldn’t budge, where was the hydrogen peroxide?

“i’m coming in, okay?” Yumi said, making her rub the stains even more aggressively than before.

She pushed the bottle of blades to the back of the medicine cabinet, wiping the blood stains from the sink.

She needed to clean it— if Yumi saw…

“love?” Yumi said. he stood in the doorframe of the bathroom, eyeing the girls figure closely.

She looked up slightly and stared at him back through the mirror.

Yumi walked closer to her, wrapping his arms around her stomach and peeling her away from the sink. his breath was caught in his throat when he saw the blood.

“i had a bloody nose.”

The smile she wore to convince him did not reassure him

Yumi hummed, spinning her around to get a better look at her face.

He held her arms gently, as if the slightest bit of pressure would make her body break.

Still, the feeling of her sleeves pressing farther into the cuts made her wince.

Yumi was alarmed by this, looking into her eyes before looking down to her arms.

“love?”

She avoided his concerned gaze, moving to stare at the door instead.

His eyes widened when he saw the crimson red stains that littered her arms, where the blood soaked through the thin clothing.

Yumi let go of her arms hastily, covering his mouth with his hands.

She’d wrapped her arms around her stomach, backing away from him.

“i won’t force you to show me what’s under your sleeves… but i can’t help you if i can’t see them.” Yumi said carefully.

She nodded.

He wasn’t angry

Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest

“please don’t be mad..”

She winced when the fabric pulled at her wounds, the clotting blood having fused with the clothing.

bloody, wide, gory cuts littered her arms.

A broken gasp left Yumi’s lips once her arms were finally bared in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” she choked on the words.

Clinging to his shoulders, she let out a sob as she felt his body trembling. “Oh god, Blake, I’m sorry!”

He didn’t speak.

He couldn’t speak

He sat her down and rummaged through her medicine cabinet until he found what he needed.

Wordlessly, he tended to her wounds.

Although his touch was as gentle as possible, it still hurt when he cleaned them.

Her soft hisses of pain sent him over the edge and his tears finally began to fall.

He ignored them however, choosing instead to focus on the female and doing everything that he could to minimize her discomfort.

He wasn’t the type to cry so Y/n couldn’t help the guilt that flooded her.

Yumi had noticed the blank look in her eyes and knelt in front of her.

He held her tight as if she would slip away if he didn’t.

The warmth of his touch pierced through the haze that surrounded her.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just hold onto me.”

He deposited her gently onto the soft sheets of her bed before climbing in beside her.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close against his body

Brushing the hair away from the back of her neck, he pressed feather-soft kisses over the skin there.

“We’ll call a therapist in the morning,” the man says. “For now, you should get some rest.”

As much as she wanted to simply fall asleep, she hesitated. There was a worry still lingering in the back of her mind

“Blake? You… you aren’t going to leave me, right?”

The arms around her tightened as he let out a soft growl at the suggestion.

“Never,” he promised

“I’ll always be here for you, Y/n. I love you more than anything else.”

His words echoed in her mind over and over again as she finally fell asleep.

## Larry Croft <3

When Larry found out he rushed out of the room in a hurry

Y/n had thought it was too much for him so he’d left

She didn’t blame him

She found herself pathetic, too

But when he returned with a box of assorted bandaids,

Star Wars, SpongeBob, hello kitty themes etc.

She couldn’t help but laugh

Every time he’d put a bandaid on her arm he’d kiss it and reassure her

When they laid down together, he’d run her fingers up and down her arm, over the cuts that scarred.

or he’d give light pecks to the scars, which always made her heart flutter

“Y/n, please don’t hurt yourself.”

And she didn’t just for him

## Grunk <3

Y/n’s hands shook, running over several white and pink lines that marked the skin right above her knee.

She pressed her fist to her forehead, exhaling shakily as an unwelcome tear slipped its way down her cheek.

The marks were old, but they hadn't gone away, and each accidental glance at them brought back a wave of unwelcome memories.

She curled her legs into her chest and buried her face in her knees, waiting for Grunk to come back and distract her from her thoughts.

"Hey, I'm back!" Grunk jogged into the room, stopping suddenly when he saw the girls curled up position.

“Y/n?" His grin slipped into a look of concern as he ran over to her.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

She looked up at him, face slick with tears.

"I- I’m" she couldn't find her voice.

She shoved out her leg, shakily pointing at the scars.

"Oh," he said softly, gently running his fingers over the indentations.

He didn’t quite know how he should react

He was just a kid after all and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for getting him involved

"When are these from?"

“Long time ago," she whispered. "I know they're old but when I look at them I just - " she swallowed, shaking her head.

"I know."

Grunk pulled her into his chest, stroking her hair.

"I know, baby, I know." He’d kissed her head.

“Hey."

He pulled away, tilting her head up.

"I know how hard it is to look at them. But you know what? They're a sign. They're a sign of how far you've come, and how strong you've gotten, because even though you were once in such a low place you felt you had to do that, you're still here, and you're still thriving. I'm proud of you, Y/n, I'm so, so proud of you."

She let out a sob and buried her face in his neck. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too. I love you so much."

## John/Kryoz <3

John had asked to see her cuts.

He didn’t stop to think about what reaction that could elicit

He regret saying it after he did

But she showed him her wounds/scars

He insisted on cleaning them up and bandaging them

He was very confused and concerned.

He'd heard about stuff like this but hadn’t really experienced it first-hand

He tried to take her feelings and mental state into consideration, but his brain was sometimes a little foggy with slight panic and confusion.

"Have you told anyone about this? i think you should get some help."

Again, it was a little difficult for him to find soothing words, and he spoke bluntly

He encouraged her to find help

He always makes sure to tell her he cares, albeit awkwardly.

He does care, but he isn't great with feelings. he just really doesn't like the idea of his Y/n doing something like that

Afterwards, he’d try to be more conscious of her and her state.

He could get a little frustrated sometimes, especially if she found herself in an episode or relapsing.

He wasn’t angry at her.

He was just confused on why and lets it turn into anger

He felt angry that she was hurting like that,

and John being the problem solver he is, sometimes he let his logical and moral side take over.

So he’d ask for help or look up ways he could help her

he's trying!!!

—

Self harm/suicide services

Call, Text, or Chat with Canada's Crisis Services Canada

Call, Email, or Visit the UK's Samaritans

Text CHAT to America’s Crisis Text Line at 741741.

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