#WHO CARES THAT SHES A SWAMP POTATO

[angie-is-silly]

why is Katniss actually such a good name. I'm tempted... but also how much you wanna bet my non existent future child would either get mad compliments or a shit ton of bullying 😭

[cosmerelists]

Children's TV Programming on Each Cosmere Planet

As requested by anon. :)

If every Cosmere planet not only had TV, but also children's TV programming, what kind of shows would be popular?

1. Roshar [Stormlight Archive]

Herald Babies: It's like the Muppet Babies, only it's about the heralds. All of whom are babies. And Muppets. Just imagine tiny Shalash using her comically oversized mallet to smash any drawings she finds of herself. Adorable!

Pitford the Big Red Axehound: A show all about a young girl and her pet axehound, which is loved so much that it grows into a GIANT axehound!

Reading Rainbow: This show is ONLY for girls (and yes, I checked! Highstorms do produce rainbows!)

My Little Ryshadium: Yes, in this show the Ryshadium are little. And brightly colored! And friends. This show is way more popular with boys.

Mister Wit's Neighborhood: A beloved show where Mr. Wit tells stories and plays his flute for the children. He's weirdly rude to any adults on the show, though.

2. Scadrial [Mistborn]

The Adventures of Young Jak: All the fun of Allomancer Jak, only he's just a little kid in this show.

Bonewish: Each week, a kandra eats the bones of a small animal and then acts out classic works of literature. It's...much cuter than it sounds.

Mister Hoid's Neighborhood: A beloved show where Hoid, the friendly neighborhood cab driver, tells stories, sings songs, and shows off various fascinating places around the city of Elendel.

3. Canticle [Sunlit Man]

Naughty Children Are Eaten By Ghosts: It's pretty much as the title says. Every episode there is a naughty child. And then that child is eaten. By a ghost.

4. Threnody [Shadows for Silence]

Wayward Youth Are Consumed by Shades: This show...well, to be honest, it's weirdly similar to that show from Canticle. Or is it the other way around?

5. Sel [Elantris]

Readin' with Seon: A glowing ball of light reads books aloud to children. Their diction and pronunciation is always perfect!

Mister Hoid's Neighborhood: The show never makes it clear why this random beggar is telling stories and playing music and showing children around Elantris, but it is a beloved TV staple.

6. Taldain [White Sand]

Captain Sand: By combining their sand powers, these children can summon Captain Sand, who fights evildoers and polluters with sand! It's very...sand-centric.

7. First of the Sun [Sixth of the Dusk]

Fourth Who Exploreth: The adventures of Fourth of the Dawn, who explores jungles with the help of her avian companion, Sandals. With the help of the kids at home, Fourth must solve puzzles like, "How can we escape from this deadly swamp" or "If we don't catch food soon, we'll starve to death." It's, uh, super upbeat!

8. Nalthis [Warbreaker]

Minnie the Panther: The story of a young boy who Awakened all of his stuffed animals, including his stuffed panther, Minnie, and now they all go on adventures together!

Sweet Potato Street: Like Sesame Street, only I don't know if Nalthis has sesame specifically. This show features many beloved puppets, like the big colorful bird and the talking flower, and even has real famous people on it--even gods!

Mister Hoid's Neighborhood: A beloved childhood staple where Mister Hoid tells stories from history and myth for the children, always using his fun, brightly colored sand!

9. Komashi [Yumi and the Nightmare Painter]

Glint's Hints: Children must help the hapless Nightmare Painter solve mysteries--which usually ends up requiring the child to help him draw a picture to get rid of a nightmare!

10. Lumar [Tress of the Emerald Sea]

Aether Bears: Like the Care Bears, only instead of shooting rainbows out of their bellies, they shoot out aether colors! And if children cry around these bears, the bears explode. So it's very important that kids stay happy in Aether Bear world.

Xisis & Friends! At some point, the dragon Xisis was reimagined as a much smaller dragon who liked to play with children and sing songs about friendship. Nobody is sure what the real Xisis thinks of it...

The Magic Pirate Ship: The captain of this ship, which is inexplicably crewed only by children, uses her magic to take the kids on adventures! Like the time they shrunk the ship down to microscopic size and went inside a guy's body, or the time they went up to one of the moons!

Mister Hoid the Cabin Boy: A beloved childhood staple where the ship's funny old cabin boy entertains children with his stories, his jokes, and his zany antics! Everyone LOVES his bright red shorts! ...Hoid may never go back to Lumar.

[witless-winion1]

unrelated poll time!!

trying to figure out if I have any hear me outs

(note: my version of hear me out is whether I’d like to DATE them, because, uh….no me gusta fuckying vibes)

I don’t think so because look at her

Hot, buff, quiet, smart and sensible, understanding, BADASS, and has a really cool spear, likes ducks and potatoes, the permanent braincell holder of her party

my friend @hyperfixationjunkie thinks she’s a hear me out because she doesn’t have a face

But like…, details. Who cares

@dingodoodles

Anyway please marry me Gothi

[pomefioredove]

Tbh I was reading the matchup info and now I have an idea for a fic 😂😂😂

But Seriously I really love your writings. I've been having a shitty time and when I read your stuff it gets better and mellows me out ❤️

Personality wise: I can be pretty calm, but I also have my exciting/ manic moments. Like cleaning my room at 3am (cries in bd sleeping schedule). People say I'm nice, and have a good energy. But if someone pushes me (metaphorically) I will push back. I can be petty if I get fed up enough. I get depressed easily and sometimes have trouble expressing myself. Which is weird because I kind of am the therapist friend. I don't talk about my feelings or self often. Sometimes I scare my friends unintentionally, like dropping random tidbits of my life that might sound or be a little traumatic. (I.e. that reminds me of the time my mom told me she would beat my ass if I cleaned her room wring again.) I can be pretty lazy, I sleep A LOT. I am a feminist, who is pretty used to red flags in people.

Interests/ Hobbies: I love reading and trying new art stuff. I am an English major and like learning about the dirty and scary sides of History. My favorite books to read right now are classical literature and disturbing horror books. Art wise I've been trying to get into air dry sculptures. I love to crochet. And when I feel like it I can cook and bake. Sometimes I roller skate, like once in a blue moon. I have trouble with homework sometimes, I can get really distracted. When I'm really tired I won't eat. I have body issues too (thanks mom 🥲). I used to be a vegetarian for almost 10 years. I stopped a couple years ago.

Relationship wise: I like people who are competent. Like, someone who knows their way around the house or are willing to learn. I like feminists. I don't like people who yell at me. When I get into a relationship, love bombing and honeymoon phase stuff kinda turn me off ngl. (Like why r you so free on a regular Tuesday afternoon. I give you butterflies? Digest them, want some pesto bismol? Here.) Ngl, it's like why should I have to come back from a full day of work/school and clean up after you and/or make dinner.

Lifestyle wise: No lie I have depression and anxiety and it can get pretty bad. There are times where I can't take care of myself as well as I wish. I will cry, if someone makes fun of me for it. I try to keep my area clean, when I get back from work/school I clean up a little then crash. I try to deep clean on weekends if I'm not swamped from school.

Specifics: No first or second years pls

Ty 💖💖💖

I match you with 𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

The First Impression:

One might assume that the first thing Vil notices in a person is their style, or their physical features, or even their body language.

Not really.

Vil absolutely judges people based on their competency, their skill, their dedication to themselves and their passions. And he can absolutely see that in you.

Why He Fell:

What initially attracts Vil is the challenge. He's always looking for new potential, and he can tell that you're both skilled and committed enough to meet his standards- but there's something holding you back. You're quite different from his past potatoes, and he's more than capable of taking a different approach to your case, one without the need for harshness.

Vil isn't one to pry, though he's able to piece together your situation from the random tidbits you drop on him, and soon, his pet project becomes more of a mission. Can't take care of yourself right now? That's fine, he'll do it for you. He'll find a way to create a perfectly manageable routine, fix your sleep schedule, help you with homework, and slowly ease you into a healthier lifestyle with him by your side.

Though he'd never admit it, Vil really likes the feeling of being needed, not just wanted. And, in time, he finds himself needing you and your company just as much.

The Relationship:

You cannot get more competent than Vil Schoenheit. Experience or not, he's a master at navigating relationships, and is more than willing to help you in that regard, as well. He's there at your best and worst, as you are for him- Vil considers the partnership very equal, and would never in a million years dream of upsetting that balance.

(Quite honestly, Vil doesn't want to be treated like an incompetent manchild who can't do anything for himself and he's glad you're on the same page)

He very much appreciates and admires your skillset, interest in learning new things, and your dedication to your passions (one isn't just vegetarian for ten years without some commitment, after all), and sees you as compatible in that regard.

It's a very mature and balanced relationship, one in which you don't even have to imagine him lovebombing or taking you for granted or acting childish. He certainly has his moments, but such is being human.

[britcision]

Another ficlet for our Four Heralds AU! This one is mostly about our dear wet cat of a Lavellan, Lluciano. It’s pretty early on while everyone’s getting to know each other in the Hinterlands.

Just some first little hints at our collection of backstories

Also, cooking head canons for the early companions 👀

—————

Foraging 

Things were… well, settling felt optimistic with the Breach still in the sky like a jagged green scar, but at least it had stopped growing. 

The Andrastians’ Chantry was trying to kick up trouble in Val Royeaux, and as much as Cadash would have enjoyed pretending they didn’t see why it mattered… yeah, a lot of people followed the Chantry like they had their heads in a bag. 

Blatantly refused to accept that not everyone else did, which was great when you had three “heralds of Andraste”, none of whom believed in the prophet, but hey. 

When someone asks if you’ve been touched by their god, you say yes. 

Not that they, Lavellan, or Adaar ever agreed to it. But they could see the wisdom in Leliana’s gentle confirmations, and it made their own denials seem more like humility than “why the fuck is everything about your god”, so that was a win. 

For now, even as much as Josephine fretted, the budding Inquisition had bigger problems than the Chantry coming up with a united stance. They had mouths to feed, too few horses, and roads completely swamped between rogue templars, flighty mages, and just regular bandits out to make everyones’ lives worse. 

Frankly, if they left for Val Royeaux now, the Inquisition’s forces just might melt away behind them. Pure coincidence that this meant flipping off the Lord Chancellor’s self importance every day they rode out to take care of the people, not a bunch of overinflated egos. 

The one thing they were probably never going to have to worry about though? Supplies, especially things like elfroot. 

You couldn’t put Lluciano Lavellan into the woods and expect him not to disappear off every thirty seconds apparently, chasing down a familiar looking leaf or bush. 

And to be fair, Cadash had been a broke ass blacksmith too long to let an accessible ore deposit pass them by, even if it wasn’t enough to make a nail on its own. 

Shit added up, and they’d smelted their own bar stock enough to know what iron could be used. No matter how much Varric or the others bitched, free beat trying to ship through bandit hell. 

They were on their way to scout locations for watch towers, one of their first missions out from Haven when it first came up. 

Corin had asked Lavellan to do his thing, forage around and rustle up something they could turn into a meal. Kid did damn well too, coming back with wild carrots, onions, and even some potatoes. 

Probably half a dozen new strands of elfroot too, but who was counting. 

Cadash had enlisted Varric and Cassandra in to help wash and peel, and been about to start themself when they saw Lluciano just. Bite the fucking potato. Raw. 

They damn near knocked it out of his hand. 

“What the hell are you doing with that?” They snapped, and Lavellan pouted back, clutching his raw. Fucking. Potato. To his chest. 

“It’s not green, it’s fine!” He snapped back, like that made a lick of sense. Corin stared at him for a long moment. 

“You know not poisoning you isn’t a sterling recommendation, right?” They asked dryly. Lluciano rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, but what else am I gonna do? Boil it?” He asked with a huff. 

Corin stared at him a while longer. 

“Yes? Maybe? To make it fucking taste good? Or you could bake it in the fire, cut it up and fry it, literally anything except eating a fucking raw potato?” They demanded. 

Varric scooted away, quietly taking over the stew pot to add his potatoes and water. Cassandra was staring at both of them like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. 

Varric also stole the potato she’d been peeling, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

Equally unaware of their audience, Lluciano rolled his eyes again and went to take a bite from his potato. 

“Yeah, right, and maybe I’ll rub leaves on it.” 

This time Corin did knock the potato out of his hand, just as Cassandra finally broke and asked, 

“Have you never had cooked food?” 

All three were now trying to remember if they’d seen Lavellan eat over the week and a half they’d known him. There must have been something. 

Nothing came to mind. 

The elf huffed, glaring at Cadash but not daft enough to try and arm wrestle a warrior. 

“Of course, that’s how I know it’s gross!” 

“You just bit a raw fucking potato!” Cadash threw both hands into the air. 

Varric quietly relieved them of the bitten potato. It joined its brethren in the pot. 

“I’d rather bite it raw than as a pile of dissolving mush!” Lavellan shouted back, reaching mutinously for a raw onion. 

Cassandra hurried to grab them and pull them away from him. At least it got her back into helping Varric, peeling off the skins and cutting them. 

He gave her a companionable nod, most of his attention still on the show the two heralds were putting on. 

“It isn’t mush if you cook it right!” 

“How else are you supposed to cook it!” 

“Bread.” 

Varric and Cassandra turned sharply, the word their first indication that Solas had returned from his wandering. He set down an armful of wood for the fire and gave them both an inscrutable smile. 

“I have seen Lavellan eating bread.” 

“Absolutely zero chance this is a weird Dalish thing then?” Varric asked with a hint of hope in his voice. 

Solas shrugged, taking a seat and looking over their preparations so far. He pulled a handful of herbs from a pouch, pulled out a frying pan, and tossed the herbs and some oil in before placing it over the fire. 

“Nothing is zero chance. Onions, please.” 

Cassandra carefully scraped the cut onions into his pan and he nodded his appreciation. 

“I’m gonna hope anyway,” Varric muttered, turning his attention to some of the dried meats they carried… and looking thoughtfully at Bianca, “I know some great Dalish cooks. It’d be a tragedy to think a whole clan missed out.”  

It wasn’t like they hadn’t already seen wild goats. 

Solas made a noncommittal noise, stirring carefully at his aromatics with a wooden spoon. 

Cadash and Lavellan were still yelling at each other, and a few minutes later the dwarf stomped over and scowled into the fire. 

“We’re teaching the little fucker what actual food tastes like,” they declared bluntly, casting a decisive eye over the food preparations thus far. 

Apparently everything met with approval, since they turned and just glared back at Lluciano. 

“Empty your pack. All your edible herbs and shit. I cannot fucking believe you grab all of them and never tried them.” They ordered flatly. 

“I have tried them, I chew mint all the time. Most of them are gross though,” Lluciano grumbled, but didn’t hesitate to tip out his pack, “I just grab them for other people.” 

“I wish I were surprised you’d just shoved them in your mouth,” Cassandra said with a sigh, fighting a smile. 

Varric shot Solas a quick look, nodding to the potatoes still boiling away. 

“You good to keep an eye on those?” He asked, hand sliding towards his crossbow. Solas glanced over, noted the gesture, and nodded. 

“Certainly, if it means we’ll get something fresh,” he agreed, glancing from Varric to Corin. “Did you have something specific in mind, Cadash?” 

The other dwarf glanced over at Varric too and nodded. 

“Whatever you can find. I’m not thinking too fancy, whatever you guys were doing’ll work, I just want to make a point.” They shot another glare over their shoulder at Luci. He stuck his tongue out at them. 

Solas nodded, pointing his wooden spoon at Cassandra as Varric headed into the woods. 

“Seeker, I’m sure an educated woman such as yourself knows thyme and yarrow?” He asked. 

Cassandra gave him an odd look for a moment, trying to find some kind of insult, but she was never quite sure with Solas. She was just so used to looking for them. 

“Yes; of course.” She nodded, about to rise and join Lavellan, who had obediently dumped out his pack and begun sorting plants. 

The elf interrupted her with a raised hand, thrusting the requested herbs her way. He did not look impressed. 

“They’re both gross,” he told them bluntly, eyes narrowing when they landed on Solas, “and yarrow is a medicine. It’s not for food.” 

“You think raw potatoes are food,” Corin reminded him, and he huffed but gave Cassandra the requested herbs. 

She gave him back all but a single leaf of the yarrow, glancing at Solas for approval as she returned with her bounty. She got it too, a slight flush rising in the firelight as he smiled broadly. 

“Perfect, Seeker. I admit, I’m increasingly curious to see your own cooking,” he said innocently, sprinkling thyme into the aromatics and not looking at her. 

Cassandra immediately backed up a full three feet, arms wrapping around her knees. 

“Yes. Well. Perhaps you will.” She said awkwardly, glaring into the fire. Solas’ smile took on a smug little edge, and Corin very nearly joined him. 

If ever you wanted Cassandra to back off, a single compliment was usually all it took. 

“We’re all gonna taste each other’s cooking at some point,” Cadash said instead, settling by the fire and taking the attention back off their dear shy warrior woman. “Except Lavellan’s.” 

“Cooking sucks,” Lluciano huffed, sitting as well and folding his arms, pretending he wasn’t sneaking peeks at Solas’ pan. 

It was starting to smell really good. 

“Cooking sucks unless it’s done well,” the elven mage offered as a compromise, pulling out a thin metal fork and stabbing it delicately into a potato. He then transferred it to his hot pan. 

Cadash and Cassandra watched with interest as he carefully moved each cut potato, the oil in the pan hissing and spitting but apparently never touching him. 

“Doing a hash?” Cadash guessed, and got their own little approving smile. 

“Something similar. After all, we don’t want dissolving mush, do we?” He asked innocently, his eyes shifting for a moment to Lluciano. 

Who scowled into the fire, pretending he hadn’t been looking. Sniffing. 

Solas was just about done by the time Varric returned, carrying a nug by its feet. He was grinning too, holding up his prize to show them. 

“Should be plenty for all of us, and some left for tomorrow too. That smells fantastic, by the way. I almost stepped on the damn thing sneaking closer for a sniff,” he added with a nod to Solas, sitting and pulling out a skinning knife. 

Lavellan was watching with more interest than sullenness by now, the smells from the pan at least peaking his curiosity. Varric’s return didn’t do much to distract him. 

Solas gave the dwarf a companionable nod, stirring his pan and expertly flipping it. 

“If you can do a quick filet, I’ll keep the pan hot and do them in the last of the oil and we can add them to the hash. Cadash, plates?”  

The other dwarf scooted theirs and Luci’s over, nodding to Varric as well. 

“Thin strips’ll cook faster. If you wanna take the legs off I can break two down to go in?” They offered. 

Cassandra rose for a moment, going into the packs to retrieve her, Solas, and Varric’s plates as well, bringing them back to the fire. 

“I can do the other two, and we could roast the body instead while we eat?” 

It was a very domestic scene, in stark contrast to the day’s travel and multiple fights. Even Lavellan’s sulking didn’t quite break the mood, although he still looked sceptical when Solas handed him a full plate of fried potatoes, onions, and carrot, seasoned with a tiny sprig of fennel. 

Cadash glared at him until he grabbed his fork and took a reluctant bite. And waved their own fork menacingly as he swallowed it straight. 

“Chew it, you animal.” 

Shooting them a token glare, he took another forkful and chewed as over dramatically as possible. 

His eyes widened. 

Solas, now frying the nug strips Cassandra and Corin had prepared, looked unbelievably smug. He dropped a finished strip onto Lluciano’s plate as the elf took another hesitant bite. 

“Try with the nug,” he prompted gently, the soft side that usually only came when talking about his travels in the Fade briefly visible. 

It startled Varric and Cassandra, who hadn’t really bothered talking to him about magic much. 

Lavellan obediently stuffed the whole strip into his mouth along with the veg, now chewing harder because his mouth was overfull, not to be a little shit. 

By the time he finally swallowed his expression was open awe, staring at his companions in real, genuine disbelief. If any of them thought he’d been lying about not eating cooked food before… 

“But… but how did you do that?” He asked, staring from Solas to his plate. “Those were just the potatoes I brought you, and you made them all…” words failed him and he gestured vaguely with his fork. 

Cadash’s worry-disguised-as-irritation melted away into still worried amusement. 

“Delicious, thanks Solas. Seriously though Luci, you’ve never seen cooking before?” It was a little hard to imagine, but easier than any other possible explanations. 

Lluciano shrugged, shovelling in another big bite of hash. He seemed more sheepish than upset now, and more than happy to eat. Which made it all more genuine.

“Well I saw my parents boil everything, and I knew other people in the clan cooked but I thought they must be getting different food,” he explained quietly. 

That answered a few questions, really. Varric grimaced in sympathy, reaching around to pat Lavellan on the shoulder. 

“Sorry to be the ones to break it to you, kid… boiling just doesn’t get the same depth of flavour,” he offered, and Lluciano frowned at him in confusion. 

“You boiled the potatoes,” he pointed out. Varric glanced over to Solas. 

“It’s a good way to get them started cooking, so the middle is ready before the frying burns the outside,” the older elf explained magnanimously, dishing out more slices of nug. 

Lluciano nodded slowly, taking careful spoonfuls at a slightly less breakneck pace now that people expected him to talk too. 

“So… could you show me? This is a lot better than raw,” he asked hesitantly, just the most adorable puppy hope in his eyes. 

“Which is why we’re making sure you don’t just raw dog your dinner again while you’re with us,” Cadash grumbled, pointing at him with their spoon. “I can show you a few things.” 

“I believe we all could,” Solas agreed genially, nodding to the group as a whole. “Perhaps you’ll be ready to make us dinner in turn by the time we return to Haven.” 

That definitely brightened Lluciano up and he nodded earnestly, digging back into his food with vigour. 

The others followed suit, possibly thinking about what they’d like to try and teach an elf whose previous options had been “boiled” or “raw”. 

At least it’d give them something else to do while they got those watchtowers set up. 

—————

And a link back to the master post for organisational purposes

[deepdonutkid]

The Hunger Games characters have some unique names based on many cultures we've lived in today.

What's your favourite character names from THG world? What's their names meaning?

Bonus questions :

If you're a fanfic writer writing about characters who lives in Panem, what's their name gonna be?

If you're a reader, what's a name you read in a THG fanfic that stuck with you?

Thank you, @curiousnonny

I actually tried to answer this immidiently, which my laptop shutting down and then tumblr didn't save my answer. UGH... soooo, again...

My favorite name is Seneca Crane, I love the meaning, any other Seneca girlies out there?

Then again, I love the contrast of Prim's and Katniss' names.

M: Ahhh, look, our beautiful baby daughter! M: Prim, because she is as lovely as a Primrose! M: And there is her older sister, swamp potato!

Clearly, the father picked the first name and the mother picked the second. But to me, the parent proposing the name for the child, which makes the final cut, will always share a special bond with said child... and it's beautiful.

I actually have a whole post planned, where I will explain, that Peeta is very slavic-coded to me. And Peeta is for me just a derivative from Pjotr, well, they do have the same root in Petrus. But the Peeta also having the bread meaning is just chef's kiss.

A name that always stuck with me is Augustus, and since it's originated in Roman Empire, it fits the theme as well. I imagine Augustus to look pretty much like Peeta, sounds like an alter ego name someone would give to him, if he was raised in the Capitol XD

Iulia another beautiful italian name. Also for another Capitolite!

And I have one THG oc actually, and it's a girl Johanna Mason had to mentor, despite being not that much older than her, which makes it into a really sweet sister story. Her name is Charna 'Chimney' Pasternak. It's a yiddish/russian name and with Charna being derivertive from the russian word for black, tschornje, and Pasternak means pasnip in yiddish. It's a root, so it's similiar to Katniss. Chimney is her nickname, because she is a chimney sweep. I can totally imagine, that in the districts kids would do this dangerous job again. And since they are heating with coal and or wood, it's really important to have a clean chimney. She is also the reason Johanna is so mad in the quell, because she is the last person, Johanna cared for, before losing her too. I actually don't know, if I ever write that story, but I love to ramble about it!

@curiousnonny Thanks again for this question! I really wish I could have send the first draft of my answer, because that one was waayyyy better with way more details :(

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Some retake trickster lore and fun facts please? :,33

YOU ACTIVATED THE SPOOKYMAN GET READY HAHAHAHFJGJFHDGS THIS IS GONNA GET LONG BABY

@justafriendlystranger enjoy the food eheheheeee~

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

Facts and bits of lore on Retake Trickster!

They're both based on the usual ancient entities like Hades and Kitsunes and a spanish urban legend called La Llorona, in terms of appearance. Also Hog and Scorched, EXEs that have this split personality trope, seen in... Well, the split personality! And also that one time Boiling Potato made that forest deities version of Trickster where she's like... A siren, in a swamp, seen that and went "lmao dead body in a swamp... WAIT I CAN WORK WITH THIS"

Trixie is strictly a pacifist, absolutely no murder allowed in her vicinity, she's literally afraid of the concept and wants nothing to do with it. She will fight but never kill. Enjoy the angst food~

Trickster (the ghost) is selfish, a very egocentric bitch, narcissistic (she doesn't have this disorder, she's like that), overall not the best person in the world. What playing around with god-like magic for years does to a person, amirite? Fucks you up

Trixie, although she seems like a very shy girl... Actually isn't all that much! She's friendly and all, very caring, sorta the mom friend at this point lmao, and also a bit of a gremlin at times. Yes she'll prank you and call you names and flirt for the fun of it because lmao you got a red face cutie hahaaa. She's not shy, whole opposite, just not as strong and confident.

Trixie is canonically a lesbian and can't take compliments despite her confident persona, BRING IN THE FLIRTIN' HAHAHAHAHSHAHAHFJFJFBDH

In light of this, Trickster is canonically pansexual in the retake! She thought she was straight (she died in ye olden japanese days) but there were a few women here and there that really wanted her. Because of this, she convinced the entire japanese area to mind their business because hey who are you to question a god*? Fuck off let her seduce women she can pop your lungs like balloons lmfao

Also this Trickster can take compliments, she's not shy lmao she's the one that lured in guys and gals like metal to a magnet

Their fusion (which i'm nicknaming The Deceiver) is only ever unstable when the two of them are crammed up in the same body, causing them to enter a very feral and angry state

In light of this... I'll just explain via what Trixie thinks of this "fusion" process~ ——— what she feels is a fusion, her soul colliding with mine, but what i feel? I feel her hands grabbing my soul and throwing me away, replacing me, i feel like i dissociate and watch my body cause a bloody mess knowing i can't do JACKSHIT. I want her gone, for good, i really do, i wanna punt her cocky self-centered ass into the fucking SUN.

Adding onto this, Trixie and Trickster don't have a great relationship. As i said, Trixie is a strict pacifist, and Trickster is a shitty bitch that thinks her better than everyone, so you can guess how fast and strong shit went downhill the day Trickster came back from the dead...

Trixie is a bottom unlike Trickster, her confident mischievous persona doesn't match her composure in a full-blown relationship, can't even take little jokes that alude to... That Stuff That Mustn't Be Mentioned But You Know Very Well What I'm Talking About (by Fall Out Boy). Trickster will gladly pin you down lol.

Trixie is in the 7 foot area, prolly 7'3, while Trickster is in the 6 foot area, maybe 6'7. When they fuse, Trickster's height mixes with Trixie's, making The Deceiver... 8 foot~? Eheheheeee enjoy~

[notchesandbullets]

A Soft Confession Draped in Ivory and Silk (Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Pro-Hero!Reader)

Warnings: cursing, sort of domestic fluff in the snippet of the future Bakugou sees with you, mentions of alcohol, Aged-Up!AU, suggestive themes, implied smut, mutual pining, there's a lot of fluff in this one.

Synopsis: It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated UA. This was supposed to be a trouble-free reunion, except your reservations got screwed up and now you have to room with someone else while you're staying for the entirety of the trip. The weird thing is, everyone seems to have some kind of excuse as to why they can't let you sleepover in their room for the night. So, you decide on Bakugou's, the only person who can't say no because he hasn't arrived yet. But your actions have consequences and now you need to deal with all the feelings that you've been frantically suppressing as they resurface.

Words: 19.2k

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" Bakugou seethed hotly, vastly annoyed with the sight that greeted him.

He had kicked open the door to his allocated hotel room, exhausted from the long drive and wanted nothing more than to flop on the comfy bed and just fall asleep but that couldn't happen if you were here.

Of course it had to be you. Of all the shitty extras, it had to be you.

Fuck.

Rolling your eyes at his angry exasperation, you continued stirring the pot on the stove without paying him any attention, which you knew irritated him greatly. Free hand planted idly on your hips, your brow scrunched up as you caught a whiff of burning potatoes and quickly turned off the fire.

Alright, so you weren't the best at cooking, but that wasn't going to stop you. A girl's gotta eat.

In hindsight, you could've just picked up some food on the way or been smart and packed a lunch before you left but in your defense, you were running late. You blamed being completely unprepared on Mina, who failed to inform you in time so you would have enough time to appropriately pack and not panic about seeing all your old classmates from your UA days.

By the time she told you of this little trip, you had exactly seven hours to get everything in order and head up north to the high-end hotel Iida and Yaoyorozu, the old class representative and executive officer, reserved for the group of 22.

They had decided to hold a reunion of some sorts since it had been a number of years since you guys all graduated. Really, you suspected it just to be an excuse for all of you to get drunk but you weren't complaining.

Hero work was taxing.

Even Aizawa, Present Mic, All Might and Midnight had come along for the weekend getaway. Though they were stuck in traffic and wouldn't make it until the next morning.

"The reservations got mixed up when Midoriya called in." You said over your shoulder to the grumpy man pouting in the corner, scooping out the soup in the pot into bowls and you ignored how Bakugou growled when the name of his rival passed through your lips. "It was either share a room with you or Mineta, so..."

Bakugou glowered at you from the other side of the room but he didn't argue. That little pervert might've grown up a bit since he actually transformed into a decent hero who was a feminist and advocated for women all the time instead of trying to touch them constantly without consent, but that didn't mean he wanted you to sleep in the same bed as the fucking grape head.

Weirdly enough, everyone you asked seemed to have an excuse as to why they couldn't let you sleep over with them for a night until the mistake was sorted out. The guys you could understand but the girls?

Something was kind of off there.

So then it was just down to Mineta, who was an absolute no in your book, and Bakugou, who was the only one who hadn't arrived yet.

Knowing that you'd be completely screwed over if he said no too, you made a choice, figuring he could kick you out if it really was too much of a bother.

At least the accommodations were nice.

The room was a luxurious suite, more than big enough to hold you both without getting in each other's way.

Rich, velvet curtains hung from the valances and a small crystal chandelier hung above the mahogany table. The kitchen was fully equipped with the latest line of appliances in Japan and stocked with utensils and stainless steel cookware. The room even came with French doors that separated the bedroom from the cozy living area and kitchen parts of the suite, giving it a secluded but romantic feel.

You ignored the latter portion of that vibe.

The two of you were friends at best and you were still wondering if you could even call him a close friend when most of your interactions happened on the job in joint operations that required both of your quirks.

It was hard to ever find to get out and see your friends, let alone even consider dating. You had given up that dream after some sleazebag tried to get into your pants after one date. When your team figured out he was after your fame, that put the nail in the coffin and you hadn't tried to see anyone else since then.

For a time there, you had thought you had some potential for a relationship with Shindou since the two of you held mutual attraction for each other but that was over when he started seeing one of his old classmates.

You were happy for the both of them but it didn't dull the ache in your heart for someone who understood the life that you lived.

And not in a platonic way.

Shindou being in a relationship honestly didn't come as a surprise to you, he had feelings for her since the provisional licensing exam and besides, your heart was set on someone else.

Someone you could never hope that they would return your feelings.

Breezing out of the kitchen with two portions in hand, you passed one to the grumpy ash-blond's way.

Bakugou scoffed haughtily as he left his luggage by the door and threw himself down into the sofa positioned behind the TV, completely ignoring your peace offering. "What the fuck makes you think I want to eat your shitty cooking?"

"Suit yourself."

You shrugged your shoulders and set it down on the coffee table, undeterred by his crude yet muffled language. Something things never changed, you could still read him like a book. His temper was all a front.

Had been since high school. Now you both were pros, constantly out on the streets and saving the day. It was rewarding work but it was also exhausting.

You couldn't put into words how much you were looking forward to this getaway trip, where you didn't have to worry about appearances or the media catching you off guard.

You don't know exactly how, but somehow Todoroki, Yaoyorozu and Iida managed to pay them off or something to get them to leave you alone for the blessed three days this reunion was going to span.

And you have to say, you had never been more grateful to have rich people as friends.

Leaving to go change so that you were ready for the dinner tonight with all of your old classmates while simultaneously chowing down on your delicious (somewhat burnt) food, the corner of your mouth quirked up in a smile as you heard the bowl scrap against the table as the grumpy hero begrudgingly pulled it toward him.

Unable to resist, you tossed a lighthearted jab over your shoulder without looking at him. "Aw, you do have a heart~"

"Fuck off, dumbass." Bakugou spat from around a mouthful of potato, yet making no move to set down the food you had spent so much time making before he arrived.

Even though it was a little overcooked, it tasted better than any of the shit he had been forcing himself to eat recently.

Being a pro was no fucking joke, not that he ever treated it like one before, but it sure as shit seemed a lot easier when they were students and had fucking adults to rely on.

It was still fucking weird to him to think of his old homeroom teacher as a colleague.

Bakugou lazed around for a couple hours after he finished eating your food. He wasn't ever going to admit it, but your home cooking hit the spot. His own cooking was still better but yours wasn't shit. At least, not compared to that fucking Dunce Face's.

He still remembered when you and Sato would make dinner back when they all lived in Heights Alliance. Of course, Emergency Exit had a fire extinguisher handy anytime you were in the kitchen because you had a habit of lighting things on fire.

A lot.

Flipping through the channels on the TV boredly, Bakugou blankly stared at the screen with moving pictures that he couldn't care less about as his mind wandered back to you.

When Kirishima first told him about the trip, he flat out declined coming with.

There was no fucking way he was going. Why the hell would he want to see all their annoying faces and shit?

At least, that was all that was running through his mind until the idiot slyly mentioned how you were going to be coming along.

Bakugou honestly didn't think you would be one for all this shit. According to his agent, you had been so swamped with work in your district that you hadn't been taking proper care of yourself. Not that he cared or anything.

But it was going to be a fucking inconvenience for him if you suddenly fainted on the job and was rushed to the hospital, leaving him to pick up all your damn slack.

Because your agencies were sort of near each other, he thought he couldn't take the time off if you were going, but his PR team had insisted, practically shoving him out the door so he could pack seven days early.

He had a sinking suspicion that his absence would allow them to curb the damage done after that stunt he pulled last month at the middle school they made him talk at.

It wasn't his fault!! Those damn kids had too many fucking questions!!

Alright, so that wasn't really it. He had overheard one of the teachers spewing shit about heroes and how useless they were so of course he was fucking angry. To have the fucking nerve to not even lower their voice in front of him was a trip but the last straw was when they carelessly brought up your name in the conversation, haughtily claiming that you didn't know how to do your job properly.

And he fucking lost it.

The entire security team had to pry him off of the wailing teacher when they arrived and once the facts were cleared up, no one could say that they really blamed him for reacting the way that he did but still, the press was going to have a field day when this got out.

Bakugou had clicked his tongue angrily and stormed the other way while the police got the situation sorted out.

He would own up to what he had done, he wasn't fucking afraid. He would kill them any day of the week.

But he halted in his tracks down the dreary and empty hallway when he saw a little boy sitting alone outside the classroom. He recognized him. He was inside during the meet-and-greet but the teacher that he had just got into a verbal battle with had sent him outside for some reason.

The child whimpered and curled into a tighter ball when he came closer and Bakugou cursed himself for not having the same calming effects on kids like Deku had.

"Oi, brat. What the hell are you doing sitting out here?" He asked abrasively, crouching down a little ways away to give him some space.

The kid sniffled loudly and raised his head, his eyes swollen and bloodshot from how hard he had been crying and Bakugou's heart twisted painfully.

"M-Mister?" He stammered out in a small voice. "Wha...?"

"You're crying."

Since no one else was around, Bakugou's guard dropped a fraction and his eyes softened slightly.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?"

After six minutes of the kid stuttering to find his voice in front of his idol, he managed to tell him a little bit.

And if Bakugou was mad before, he sure as hell was livid now.

Because this kid was being punished by his teacher and his peers for something he had no control over. His quirk.

His teacher hated him and would often send him outside because it would go off at random times and distract his classmates. And while everyone pointed fingers at him and laughed, he was left all alone to deal with a power that was too big for him to control.

Labeled a villain, he was cast out and even though the pro-hero could clearly see how kind his heart was just in the few minutes he'd interacted with him, no one else seemed to care enough to give him the time of day.

Bakugou offered out his hand and demanded that he get up. Timidly, the little kid did so, exclaiming out in surprise when he dragged him towards the direction of the classroom.

The hero could sense his rising fear and anxiety so he stopped just outside of the door where the police had been filing out of a minute ago and turned to him, squatting down to his level.

"Listen, brat." Bakugou barked out, but not unkindly. "Those extras don't mean a damn thing. You're fucking strong and you're going to be a great hero when you grow up."

He rapidly blinked his eyes and they sparkled. "Really?!"

Bakugou snorted. "Yup. Now, come on. It's storytime."

When he entered, he was disgusted to see how the teacher and the kids recoiled back from the boy hiding behind his legs. And while he couldn't necessarily fault the kids as much as their teacher because they were being taught that this little guy was a monster, to see a grown-adult grooming them to judge people like this was fucking wrong.

He would know.

Sitting down, he patted his thigh once to invite the little boy to take a seat on his lap. When the boy finally scrambled on and got comfortable, even though he was still clearly nervous about being in front of his class like this, Bakugou started his tale.

The few security officers who were standing by the teacher for safety should he launch at them again and his own agent were wary of his intentions, but all that diminished when he opened his mouth.

The calm hero told the wide-eyed kids how he was a bully to someone who had the true heart of what it took to be a hero and how he was able to grow by recognizing his mistakes and taking action. He told them that it was hard to change but that it was a good thing even though it felt weird and felt like the world was against him at times.

He told them that it didn't matter whether they had a strong quirk, a weak quirk or no quirk at all, at the end of the day, they were all the same: imperfect humans just trying to live and find happiness. And that everyone was deserving of respect.

Even the little boy they had casted out from their social circle.

Bakugou could see some things start to click in their minds and while he knew that most of this would fly over their heads for now since they weren't at an age where they had to think about all these things on the daily, he hoped that it would stick with them and come back to them when they needed it most.

The teacher's jaw had gone slack in shock and Bakugou glared at them, sending them one last pointed remark about how it was important to ensure the future generation had the tools they needed to thrive in this world and they gulped, averting their eyes as they were thoroughly intimidated by the way his burning eyes scorched into them.

Throwing his head back with a heavy sigh, Bakugou closed his eyes.

He needed this weekend to get the fuck away with everything that was wrong in this world and accept that he could only change the things he could control one at a time.

But patience was never his strong suit.

Growling, he pushed himself off of the too-comfortable couch and stormed his way to the front door to grab his luggage he had discarded to the side earlier before heading to the bedroom. He paused at the closed door for a second, briefly debating if he should knock or not but shook his head.

Fuck it. It's my fucking room.

He kicked open the door despite it being made of glass and he froze in place as his eyes landed on your form standing in front of the full-length mirror with your bare back to him.

Your eyes shining in the reflection of the polished mirror snapped to where his figure was still frozen in the doorway and you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to cover yourself up or anything.

It honestly wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, your hero costume had your back exposed all the time but you were damn annoyed that he had burst in when he did because he startled you and dropped the thing you had been playing with for a good half an hour now.

You were halfway to getting that tricky zipper to cooperate with you when he interrupted you. His timing literally could not be worse.

Sighing, you motioned him in, a bit confused why he cleared his throat and looked away from you as he set down his suitcase and strutted over without a fight.

"Make yourself useful and help me." You demanded with a slight pout. It was his fault the stupid thing was now all the way down again. Who made these things?!

You didn't have enough hands for this task.

In order to zip up the complicated dress, you needed to simultaneously hold together all the lace that crisscrossed near the neck while your other hand tried to wiggle up the zipper.

All while defying gravity and attempting not to twist your arms off.

Bakugou came to stand behind you and he exhaled frustratingly at the mess you made. The whole thing was tangled in the back, there were too many pieces for him to know what was supposed to go where.

"What the fuck did you even do, dumbass?" He muttered, more to himself than to you as he crossed over and pulled through the complicated design to get it to lay flat, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

You giggled, gathering your hair in one hand and sweeping it to one side so that it was off the nape of your neck and wouldn't get in the way.

You swallowed when his fingers brushed over your skin as he undid the damage you dealt to this fancy article of clothing and tried to ignore how your heart skipped a beat.

Honestly, you hated parties and fancy gatherings like the one tonight was going to be, but Mina and Ochako had begged you to wear something nice for at least one of the days, hence why you were now in this predicament.

Because you had absolutely no idea how to put on a dress this fancy.

Yaoyorozu had bought it for you last year when all of the girls from the former Class A and B went on a shopping spree, claiming it brought out your eyes and was such a perfect fit for you that you had to have it, regardless of how many zeros there were on the tag at the time of purchase.

You thought your eyes were going to fall out of your head the second she swiped her platinum credit card without so much as batting an eye.

You haven't gotten a chance to wear it yet. It really was a special occasions gown since it was floor-length and wouldn't be appropriate for any modern day clubs or work parties. So when the girls told you the dress code for this weekend, you were secretly a little excited, the inner child in you skipping around in circles at the notion of getting to play dress up.

According to Mina and Tsuyu, the ballroom that dinner was going to be served in tonight was supposed to be extravagant and you couldn't wait to see what it looked like.

The Solaria Hotel was one of Japan's finest and most exclusive establishments and had a five star rating from over hundreds of thousands of pro-heroes.

And you could certainly see why.

Just the size of the bedroom itself was already twice as big than your apartment that you rented out.

The king-sized bed was ridiculously huge and you were pretty sure the comforter was lined with genuine velvet. Silk sheets for the mattress and the pillow had your heart jumping for joy at how soft and silky it felt against your skin.

Aside from the bed, which also had a sheer white canopy draping down, the ceiling was ten feet high and rose petals were scattered around the huge room.

If you didn't know any better, you would think that this was a love hotel instead of one that they geared towards a resting spot for heroes. But you supposed you could understand why they had set it up the way they did.

Even heroes needed that kind of relief.

But luckily, the hotel business was slow this time of month and you didn't see many other guests when you came in, so the lack of bustle was a nice change of pace from your everyday hectic schedule.

Twisting around to see what was taking Bakugou so long to figure out the lace back, you yelped when he harshly pushed you back so that you were facing forwards.

"Hey!!" You protested indignantly and you swayed on your feet. It was a good thing you weren't wearing your heels yet.

He scoffed, deft fingers continuing to work at the knots as he repeated his earlier words. "What the fuck did you even do?"

"I didn't do anything!!"

This time, he snorted in disbelief. "Yeah right. This shit looks worse than Deku's hair."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?!" You shrieked.

After arguing back and forth for a few minutes, you began to grow anxious as the time started to tick by. You had to be down there for dinner in less than an hour and you even though you had already done your hair and makeup, mostly, you still weren't really prepared for this.

Crowds weren't your thing, which made being a pro hard sometimes, but the work you did was worth that particular downside.

Your eyes widened and you hopped in place when Bakugou finally zipped you up. Spinning around and being careful not to trip, you beamed at him as you threw your arms around his neck.

"Thank you!!!" You squealed gratefully.

He clicked his tongue and huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Get off me now, dumbass."

You clambered off of him albeit ungracefully since this gown was pretty heavy thanks to the many layers of fabric and you flailed your arms like a baby bird as you lost your balance.

Bakugou's hand shot out to catch you before you fell but before you could thank him, he was already turning away and going to his side of the room.

But tried as he might, he couldn't stop staring at you even as you turned away.

As soon as he collected his luggage once more and dragged it over to his side of the bed that wasn't claimed by you, his thoughts drifted back to you once again as you twirled in the mirror, giggling to yourself as you remained completely oblivious to the vermilion gaze burning into your back.

He swore in his head. It was much harder to stop them from going rampant with that intoxicating scent of banana and citrus that came from a specific kind of lotion he knew you always put on ever since he got it for you.

It was a gift for the last Christmas your class shared in your third year in high school. And the only reason he bought you that was because fucking Raccoon-Eyes thought it would be a good idea to put a limit on the gift giving since Iida had gone all out last year and nearly flooded Heights Alliance with an obscene amount of presents.

Shinsou might've had a hand in helping deliver them.

But of fucking course you would be wearing it right now. He could smell it so clearly, it was so fragrant it was making his head go foggy.

Bakugou tried to concentrate on something, anything really that would get his mind off of you but to no avail.

Everywhere he looked, there was evidence of you and your light.

Your clothes folded neatly in the walnut dresser on the top drawer, your books on the nightstand, even all those bottles on the vanity in the joined bathroom that was connected to the bedroom that he didn't really think was necessary unless you were trying to scrape off your skin.

In the small walk-in closet, if it could even be classified as such, was filled only with your empty luggage and the hanger in which probably hung up the dress to prevent it from wrinkling before you put it on.

And now that he wasn't fucking fighting a battle with your stubborn zipper, Bakugou really got a chance to take you in.

The layers of pale green chiffon flowed around your ankles when you moved. Paired with billowy sleeves made from that same sheer material, it made you look ethereal. The bodice flattered your figure and the sweetheart neckline skimmed just below your collar bones, making you appear soft and pure, like a fairy who could bend nature to her will with just a kiss.

The lace back was beautifully intricate and the golden zipper was barely noticeable when you let go of your hair.

It cascaded down, the soft curls brushing against your shoulders and a glass butterfly clip was nestled in your hair to keep most of it away from your face, save for a few curled strands that framed your face.

You were breathtaking.

You raised an eyebrow curiously when Bakugou suddenly started to cough violently and worried that he had somehow managed to choke on his own spit, you gathered up your skirts and rushed over to him.

You weren't insulted when he brushed you off, shouting at you that he was fucking fine, but you didn't push the issue.

He grabbed his things from his suitcase and stomped off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and you were left wondering what all of that was about.

Shrugging to yourself, you figured that he would either deal with it himself or go to Kirishima if and when he needed help.

Now, you were faced with a completely different dilemma.

There was about fifteen minutes before the scheduled time to report downstairs and you still needed to put on your shoes. But it was nearly impossible to see over the poofy skirts of this dress.

Groaning in frustration, you threw your hands down exasperatedly from trying to get it on for the fourth time. This was getting old.

Then, your whole face lit up when you got an idea.

Practically throwing yourself face-down on the bed, you squirmed and wiggled around on the king-sized bed until your back was flat against the cushiony mattress and you huffed, blowing the hair out of your face as you stuck your legs up in the air, grabbing for the shoes to put on as you bent your knees.

It was an awkward position as your skirt obeyed gravity but it worked.

Two minutes later you had both of the heels on the right way and did up the laces properly.

Inwardly, you were wondering why you were even bothering to teeter on these stilts for the entirety of the party but they completely the look. Besides, you were almost sure that you guys were going to take pictures later, even if Bakugou would only join you guys for one.

You hummed to yourself, standing up and smoothing out your skirt. You were in the middle of fixing your hair when the lock to the bathroom clicked and out stepped Bakugou.

Your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. Damn that man can clean up nice when he wasn't busy murdering villains.

A pressed suit adorned his broad frame and you had to swallow to stop yourself from drooling at how good he looked.

The suit was a classic black, with a crisp white shirt on the inside and his pants were clearly ironed before coming here. A red handkerchief peeked out from where it was tucked into his breast pocket and you swooned.

He had gotten everything right, right down to the shiny black dress shoes. You didn't know how it was possible to not have any wrinkles or a hair out of place as he slid up his embroidered tie with an irritated scowl, making the lapels lay flat with an aggressive swipe at the offending material.

You barely noticed his rising aggravation as they kept popping back up and he adjusted the cufflinks before jerking at the collar again.

"Here," You giggled. "Let me help."

Bakugou grumbled but lowered his hands and let you do as you pleased as you tucked it in further to get it to straighten out without popping back out.

"Thanks." He said gruffly and you flashed him a bright smile.

"Anytime!!"

Bakugou groaned quietly as you flounced out of the room. "You're too fucking cheerful."

You threw a charismatic smile his way as you skipped to the front door, making sure to grab your clutch on the way out. You didn't necessarily need your wallet tonight as you weren't planning on getting drunk but you weren't exactly comfortable leaving it in the hotel room.

Years of training had taught you that there were flaws in even the most advanced security systems.

"I didn't think you were going to dress up tonight." You commented casually as you waited for Bakugou to finish grabbing his wallet and phone before locking the door behind you two.

You were leaning against the glass barrier that surrounded the halls.

The Solaria Hotel was more than 100 floors, reminding you of the tower at I-Island that time you guys had to beat those villains to save the professor and restore order to the island. Bakugou's room was on the 80th floor, so you could see everything.

The layout of the circular building had basically ensured that it was hollowed out, rooms circled each floor and had an elevator on the north and south points of the building. In the empty space that you could see below as far as the eye could see, they had crystals suspended in the air that changed color periodically.

He scowled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he fell in step beside you and you tore away from your admiration of the ingenuity of the architecture.

"Shitty Hair made me fucking wear this shit." Bakugou said through clenched teeth as he recalled Kirishima begging him to wear it so they could match tonight. He wasn't going to cave but then fucking Raccoon-Eyes threatened not to feed him.

That wouldn't bother him except for the fact that he wouldn't be able to see you and all the shitty extras would be free to hit on you.

Not on his fucking watch.

Of course, this was decided before he knew you were going to be crashing in his room. He could cook for himself just fine, he didn't need to eat that overpriced shit that Ponytail Girl and Emergency Exit fucking paid for but now he was going anyways because there was no way in hell you were attending alone.

Covering your smile behind your hand, you teased that no matter what he said, he would do anything for Kirishima if he asked and Bakugou exploded at you, right there, in the middle of the hallway.

You shrieked as he launched himself at you and you ran for your life, panting hard as you reached the vacant elevators in the nick of time, frantically pushing the button to get it to close before Bakugou caught up.

Hope swelled in your chest when the doors started to close but it plummeted when a hand stopped it just before it shut completely.

Bakugou licked his lips as he pushed them back open and you backed into the corner to get as far away from him as possible as he advanced.

You gasped when his hands slammed on either side of your head, the soft ding of the elevator doors closing lost on both of you as his eyes bore into yours.

"Time to fucking pay, dumbass." He smirked, leaning in close.

You glanced over his shoulder, quickly concluding that you wouldn't reach the first floor for a good minute and decided you needed to come up with a distraction to ensure you would live to eat at least a morsel of the heavenly food that awaited you.

Bakugou's eyes flew open as you boldly took a step forward, pressing yourself against him and he swallowed hard when your finger teasingly trailed down from his shoulder to his chest. He swore that even though he was wearing two layers, he could feel your touch as though there were no clothes between you two.

The glass of the elevator was transparent and if anyone were looking closely enough, they would be able to see how he was pinning you to the wall with no space between the two of you.

"Aw~" You cooed, batting your lashes at him prettily. "That's such a shame... I was really looking forward to tonight."

He fucking knew you were toying with him, making it sound like a implication that you wanted him to take you back to his room but he fucking knew that you loved food more than any other shit so you had to be messing with him.

But it was pretty hard to believe when you looked up at him so innocently.

Bakugou's mouth pulled back in a heated snarl and it took everything in him not to close the distance and crash his lips onto yours, claiming you for himself tonight, tomorrow, and every other night that was to come.

Your expression cleared as the elevator came to a halt and Bakugou, who had been bracing himself over you, was thrown off balance.

"We're here!!" You announced excitedly, skipping past him for the second time that night.

He slapped a hand to his forehead and rushed out of the elevator into the lobby to catch up with you.

Fuck, what was wrong with him tonight?

The layout of the first five floors were a bit different than the residence area since those were designated for recreational activities and an extensive training gym.

The lobby was beautiful, even though you had skimmed by it earlier just to figure out where you were going to stay since the reservations had been messed up but now you got a good look at it.

A huge crystal chandelier sparkled from the ceiling and your heels clicked as you walked across the polished marble tile.

Everything was gold and white, clean and shining so bright that you could see your reflection in all the surfaces that you looked in. The golden edging along the wainscot and the Victorian details in the carvings along the panels of the ceiling were incredibly well done.

It branched off into several sections, the ambiguity of the lobby enabling them to have several private rooms covered with a heavy velvet curtain to maintain complete privacy.

The only thing that distinguished this floor from looking like a private establishment altogether was the very noticeable front desk in which the staff were stationed.

You were told that there was minimal staff to ensure the utmost respect and privacy but you were glad to see human faces as opposed to all the high-tech the hotel had ingrained into it to make the stay as pleasant as possible.

You didn't know why but it was nice to have a human touch in a world advancing so fast that artificial intelligence and robots were becoming more and more prevalent.

At least you could soak in that hot tub later to forget about anything and everything, relaxing in a blissful state until they kicked you out.

You could sort of recall Mina telling you about it over the phone but you were busy packing so you couldn't pay too much attention to her. But you were pretty sure she said something about a state-of-the-art pool and made another mental note to check it out later once you got out of this ridiculous getup.

Your confidence and schoolgirl excitement that came from dressing up dwindled bit by bit until you were left standing outside of the ballroom in a nervous wreck.

Judging by the music you could hear inside and all the lively chatter, most if not all were already there, and now you were having second thoughts as you anxiously played with your sleeves.

It wasn't that you didn't think you looked good, you really loved how you looked, it was just... you were feeling a bit self-conscious now that you were about to go in.

It was the same feeling that you had right before you had to try out for the hero agency of your dreams right after graduation. You were a bundle of nerves that day but at least then you could prove yourself by using your quirk to fight and take out bad guys.

You highly doubted that Yaoyorozu or Mina would be amused if you took on that same attitude and ripped the dress to shreds.

Regardless of the fact that it was expensive, you really wanted to follow through with this despite the anxiety you were feeling right now.

Bakugou hung back once he caught up to you, chest heaving slightly. You were faster than he remembered. But as he noticed that you were fighting with something internally, he arched an eyebrow and argued with himself about whether or not it was a good idea to ask what shit was stopping you from going in.

By the time he told himself to fuck off and just do it, you had straightened your shoulders and opened the doors yourself.

A wide grin split across his face and he shook his head, in a mixture of begrudging admiration and a hell of a lot of disbelief.

You were fucking strong. No doubt about that.

He knew how much shit you had been through in high school. Your social anxiety was no fucking joke, you had real reactions to situations that stressed you out, but you were dealing with it time and time again just to push through and do what you loved.

That wasn't to say that you didn't fail at times but he was so fucking proud of you for asking the shitheads for help when you needed it.

Because you deserved it.

None of them judged you for it. Hell, Shoji had anxiety just like you, Ponytail Girl still had issues with her self-esteem frequently when her ability as a hero was being called into question by the press who often brought up her revealing hero costume as though that was the only thing that defined her, Icyhot was still dealing with the aftermath of his own trauma when something triggered him and Deku wasn't perfect either.

Your class had been through everything together. You guys were each other's family and were there for each other. Always.

You guys trusted each other with your lives and it was safe to say that you would go to bat for any of the others should they ever be in danger.

Bakugou was broken out of his thoughts as an all-too-cheerful voice shattered his trance.

"Bakugou, lookin' sharp!!" Kirishima called out, cupping his hands over his mouth so that his voice carried further.

Unfortunately, it caused a lot of other people to look his way and Bakugou's face twisted into a scowl.

"Fuck off, Shitty Hair."

Kirishma laughed, the bright sound relaying just how much his language never bothered him and he skipped over to loop his arm through the grumpy ash-blond's.

"Aw, what's got you so angry?" Kirishima teased with a grin, coming around on his other side to sling his arm around his shoulders when Bakugou threw him off.

Bakugou scowled, refusing to reply and his best friend's grin grew.

"So..." He drew out smugly. "I see you arrived with Y/N. Does that mean you finally manned up and told her how you feel?"

You whipped your head around in shock, breaking off your conversation with Jirou when you heard the explosion, and fell into a fit of giggles as the smoke from Bakugou's quirk cleared. Iida and Midoriya were doing damage control to a pent-up Bakugou and Todoroki was standing off to the side for moral support.

As for Kirishima and Kaminari, who had happened to be on his way to greet the pomeranian when the explosion occurred, were slapping their thighs and howling obnoxiously, tears leaking out of their eyes from laughing so hard.

Yaoyorozu shook her head. It was too early in the night to deal with all of this.

She sighed, gracefully putting a hand over her heart. "It seems like Bakugou-san's temper has not changed."

You snickered along with Jirou, who was covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to stop the fit of uncontrollable laughter that had taken over her body when she saw Kaminari's hair sticking straight up due to the fire.

"Oh no, that definitely hasn't changed." You giggled, biting your lip to curb your smile when Bakugou glared at you as if he had heard you even though you were too far away to be within his earshot.

His vermilion eyes narrowed accusingly and you held up your hands in surrender, an innocent expression painted on your features.

Your giggle came out muffled when your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip and you ducked to hide behind Yaoyorozu when Bakugou started stomping over in your direction.

"Hide me!!" You yelped and Jirou rolled her eyes.

"He's already seen you." She pointed out, forgetting her earlier uncomfortability when you first sought her out upon your arrival.

The two of you tended to stick together for these kinds of things, since you both were equally out of your element when it came to formal wear and all things classified as girly.

And the dress code for tonight was a strict one. Girls had to wear dresses and guys a suit. The only exception was Shoji and that was only because no company could ever tailor a suit right to accommodate his dupi-arms.

You hunched down further, trying to make yourself smaller but it didn't do any good as a firm grip encircled your wrist and yanked you out from your terrible hiding place.

"I can still fucking see you." Bakugou seethed, sparks popping in the palms of his hands and you smiled nervously.

"Uh... Ah!! Wait—" Your objections were cut short when he dragged you away from the others. "Where are we going?!"

Yaoyorozu and Jirou exchanged a sympathetic look with each other.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Yaoyorozu asked softly, her eyes worried.

Todoroki appeared beside her and sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. "They will be fine but perhaps we should give them a minute so Bakugou can collect himself."

"Iida-kun, is dinner ready?" Midoriya asked to take the attention off the two of you as the prospect of food was brought up and the former class rep vigorously nodded.

"Affirmative!!" He shouted, thrusting his hand high in the air to gather everyone as his old classmates started to drift towards him. "Let us sit in groups of four to make it easy for the staff to clean up, Class A!!"

Kaminari elbowed Shinsou in the ribs, interrupting his conversation with Tsuyu. "Do we still have to do what he says even though he's not the boss of us anymore?"

Shinsou sighed, running his hands through his hair and Tsuyu had a suspicion that it wasn't the first time he had asked this. "Yes, Kaminari. Because if you don't, you probably won't get to eat."

Kaminari's jaw dropped all the way to the floor but he recovered in a second, racing to his seat.

Tsuyu tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully as she and Shinsou began to follow the overzealous blond to the tables that Iida was seating everyone at. "Do you really think Iida-chan would stop him?"

Shinsou chuckled, giving her one of his rare smiles as he pulled out the seat for her before sitting down himself at the table that held a fidgeting Kaminari and nervous-looking Kirishima.

Crooking a finger, he motioned her to come closer so he could whisper it without him hearing. "Nah, but it's fun to mess with him."

Tsuyu giggled, waving at Ochako and Mina from the other table since the six round tables were set up relatively close to each other in the huge ballroom, forming a circle.

They were currently towards the front where all the appetizers on tables lined with white cloth were served before the main course. Then, there was some kind of game set up on the adjacent side that looked like beer pong and the empty space at the back took up the majority of the ballroom was left alone as a dance floor for the upbeat music that would resume later on.

With a flick of her earphone jack, Jirou changed the playlist to classical and lowered the volume just as the food was coming out.

Mineta complained that the music was too slow and boring for his taste but he didn't argue anymore when Jirou silently threatened to electrocute him. Shoji coughed into his hand and grinned at the girl's spunk while Yaoyorozu just smiled.

Koda was signing to Aoyama. Even though he had gotten more comfortable talking with all of them, everyone's chatter was making it hard to hear, so as he relayed details about his latest mission, Ojiro was engaged in a discussion with Sato about whether or not food coloring was necessary in modern day society when more and more ingredients were being revealed to be unhealthy in nature.

Sero was trying to teach Hagakure how to fold a napkin into a swam while Todoroki and Tokoyami talked about the latest hero news after exchanging pleasantries.

And Midoriya, Ochako, Mina and Iida filled up table five. Which left just the one for the two who had yet to sit in their seats.

Iida shook with restraint before abruptly standing up to shout for you and Bakugou who were still talking in the far corner about something he couldn't hear but Midoriya caught his arm and eased him back down.

The food had just come out and it was hot. He had helped Iida order food for tonight so he knew it was going to be good.

Each table got five different kinds of entrées to share, hence why they could only fit four people at each table instead of five like Iida had initially planned since the piping hot food coming out from the kitchen was monstrous and would take up a ton of space.

Wagyu beef, fugu, kujira, basashi, otoro, fresh-steamed vegetables and even yubari melon for a refreshing taste was set down on gold-rimmed platters and left to be ravished by the hungry people eyeing it like some sort of animal.

Everyone was hungry, and Midoriya knew you wouldn't mind if you guys started ahead so he opened it up to his fellow heroes, and even though he knew Kacchan might say something about it later, he still clapped his hands together and dug in.

Some of them, like Kaminari, Aoyama and surprisingly Tsuyu followed his lead and tore in right away, while others like Tokoyami, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were too busy with their own conversations to be bothered with the food at the moment.

Kaminari stopped stuffing his mouth long enough to glance at Kirishima out of the corner of his eye.

"What's the matter?" He asked and with his cheeks stuffed full it was a little hard to hear him but Kirishima got his point.

His brow drew together worriedly. "They kind of look like they're arguing."

It was true. You did look like you were engaged in a heated spat with Bakugou, but Kirishima was way off.

Ten feet away, you planted your hands firmly on your hips and glared at him as your voice rose an octave. "Excuse me?!"

Bakugou barely stopped in time from snapping his teeth at you. At this point, he was going to rip out his hair if you didn't concede and admit that he was right. "You fucking heard me."

Your mouth pressed in a hard line. "I can't believe you would say that."

A beat of tense silence passed and then you exploded.

You threw up your hands in frustration. "Aizawa's would clearly beat All Might in a battle, he can erase his quirk for crying out loud!!"

"All Might was the Number 1 Hero." Bakugou ground out angrily through gritted teeth. "And he's as strong as shit even without his quirk."

"Not everything is about strength!!" You fired back but he wasn't done.

He continued to go on a rant just to prove to you that All Might would be the one to fucking beat your old homeroom teacher if they ever versed each other in a one on one battle.

How you got here, you had no idea.

It started with him dragging you away and before he spun you around and backed you into a corner, demanding to know just what was being said about him.

After dangling tease after tease at him, the stiffness in his shoulders wasn't lost on you and you told him flat out that you three had just been commenting on his temper when he looked your way, making the timing seem like he had heard you and you found it hilarious.

Bakugou's expression crumpled as he realized he had gotten it wrong and let insecurity get the best of him, to which his eyes shot open when he realized he had said that last part out loud.

You were faster than him though, as you reassured that it was okay to be feeling that way and apologized for teasing him before he could even say a word to amend his mistake.

It had then transitioned to him quietly asking why you stopped outside of the door before you went inside and you paused before hesitantly revealing that it was because you had a fleeting thought that you didn't actually look as good as you thought you did and he frowned.

Your eyes rounded as wide as saucers as he went off on you, fucking you over for thinking that and telling you straight up that you were fucking stunning.

It was doing bad things to your heart as it flopped pathetically in your rib cage and your hands automatically went up to cover your cheeks which you were sure were bright red.

Bakugou didn't touch you but his eyes scorched into you with such conviction that you eventually lowered them yourself and thanked him softly for saying that to you.

To which he scoffed and said it was obvious and that he'd have to be fucking blind not to see you.

Cue more blood rushing to your face.

From there, the conversation went from insecurities to a short story you brought up when Aizawa had helped you boost your self-confidence and Bakugou retorted with his own story of All Might when he stopped him from annihilating Deku in Ground Beta in your first year of high school.

Things only got more competitive as you shot back that Aizawa had helped him too on countless occasions, the hothead countering by bringing up the time All Might saved you single-handedly when you had gotten captured in a fight.

Knowing your hands were tied for that particular instance, you shifted it back to Aizawa's strengths and Bakugou retorted with All Might's own.

And that's where you ended up. Having a staring contest while the rest of your old classmates watched raptly from the sidelines and wondered just what had got you both so worked up.

"Admit your defeat, dumbass." Bakugou grinned cockily, sticking his face in yours. "And then you can fucking get your shit."

Your eyes flickered up to his since even though you were wearing heels, you were still shorter than him. A hint of mischief glimmered in your eyes as a smile played upon your lips.

"Actually, I think you lost this round, Boom Boy."

Before he got a chance to open his mouth and object to that ridiculous nickname you had given him from your youth, you ducked under his arm and made a break for it towards the tables.

"Fucking— GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!!" He yelled after you, breaking into a sprint but you were too far ahead of him.

You ducked behind Iida for protection and he stood up tall, unwavering as Bakugou skidded to a halt.

"Bakugou!! That's enough!!" Iida shouted, holding his hand out for him to stop as he tried to get around him.

The whole class watched and waited to see what he would do, slurping on food obnoxiously while they all waited.

"Tch." Bakugou smirked, grounding his fist into the palm of his hand as it lit up. "Is that a fucking challenge?!"

"NO!!!" Iida thundered, clearing his throat and repositioning his glasses as he collected himself. "Now, the two of you need to sit down and eat. We are behind schedule."

"There's a schedule?" You whispered to Bakugou as you crept out from behind the safety of Iida's back. "Did you know about this?"

He snorted, putting out his explosion with a huff. "Damn right."

You tilted your head but followed him obediently to the only available table piled high with food that had luckily not gone cold.

Bakugou hid a smile as he saw you wiggle in your seat out of the corner of his eye, clicking his tongue in annoyance when you happened to look his way.

Of fucking course you would still look so damn cute when you were excited.

Since he was fucking starving, he ate with gusto, but only after he made sure you were actually going to eat.

Due to the side effects of using your quirk, it sometimes made you nauseous and you have had trouble keeping food down ever since you threw up on the first day of school.

He knew that most heavily seasoned dishes you had more of a difficulty keeping down so he wasn't surprised when he saw you go for the soup out of all the things you could've picked from.

Lively conversation filled the air, gossip and talk about the latest modifications to your hero costumes all the rage as topics blended into everyone's tables since they were all in close proximity to one another.

At least, most of them.

Since you had come late to dinner, you had a gut feeling that your classmates all ganged up on you and Bakugou, shoving the two of you here together.

The girls knew of your crush on him. It came out one night when you guys were playing truth or dare, like everyone did back in the day, and Hagakure and Mina hadn't let you forget it since then.

But what you didn't know was that the same could be said for Bakugou.

Fucking Shitty Hair did this on purpose. Bakugou raged inwardly while you remained blissfully unaware of the rampage going on beneath the surface. I fucking knew it was a bad idea to tell him about it.

He had asked his best friend for advice on what to get you for your birthday when you were in your second year and to say the very least, it wasn't hard for Kirishima to piece it together.

Fucking hell. The shit he gave him for it made him instantly regret it and he stormed out with pink cheeks, determined to find you the perfect gift on his own, thinking that this year would finally be the year that you noticed him and saw him in the same light that he saw you in.

Nope.

You had gotten sick on your birthday and by the time you healed, your birthday had come and gone and nobody said anything about it so he never gave it to you, throwing it away after another week passed and it was clear he didn't have the courage to give it to you.

You looked up at him, mouth resembling a chipmunk's as you chewed on the food you had been looking forward to all day. "Whasthematferwifyu?"

Bakugou choked. "What the fuck?!"

When you opened your mouth to speak again, he snapped at you, "Fucking finish chewing or you'll choke, dumbass!!"

"You mean like you just did?" You asked cheekily as you swallowed and he glared at you.

"Shut the fuck up."

"M'kay~" You sang.

Banter between you two was few and far in between since you two had bickered already for a good portion of the evening. The fight was called a draw for the time being as it was put on pause to fill your bellies with good food and you had to say, you were glad you came.

Dinner wrapped up after another hour and one by one, everyone started to trickle onto the dance floor.

Everyone except for Bakugou, who was at the drinks table and glaring at each bottle of alcohol that he picked through, and you and Kirishima, who had halted you when you moved to join Ochako and Tsuyu, was breaking it down to Jirou's EDM music she put together for tonight.

Kaminari was already drunk. You didn't know how that was possible but based off of the way he was playing with Ojiro's tail, refusing to detach from it even after he politely asked him to let go, you could conclude as such pretty confidently.

You followed Kirishima curiously as he led you away from everyone else, interest piqued when he brought you to where the appetizers that were previously were being replaced with desserts and your confusion grew when he inched as far to the wall as he possibly could.

"Kiri?" You questioned. "Why are we—"

"Shh!!!" He shushed quickly, waving his hands frantically, his eyes darting everywhere as though he was about to tell you something that could land him in jail.

Or worse.

He motioned you to come closer so that nobody else would hear and you scooted towards him, until his mouth was right by your ear.

And then, your jaw dropped in shock.

"WHATTTTT?!?!" You shrieked and Kirishima hushed you hurriedly, smiling apologetically at a skeptical Bakugou who looked your way due to your volume.

You took a hint but your outrage didn't fade. "What the fuck, Kiri?! Why didn't you tell me this sooner?!"

Red Riot had just oh so kindly informed you that it was in fact, Bakugou's birthday.

Today.

If what he told you was the truth, which at this point you really didn't know, Mina, Sero and Kaminari were the only other ones who knew. You wouldn't put it past Midoriya to also be included in that group, seeing as how they were childhood friends who moved past their intense rivalry stage and developed a decent amount of healthy competition as pros.

But that still didn't explain why he was telling you this now.

Oh wait.

Shit.

If that was true, then you had barged into his room uninvited because you didn't want to sleep in the same room as Mineta, on his birthday.

You cursed yourself under your breath and without another word, you tore past Kirishima with a hurried apology and a half-assed excuse to pardon your abrupt exit and sprinted towards the elevators, your heart pounding. You didn't stop running until you reached the room, grabbing all your things and throwing them in your suitcase, thoughts running wild at how stupid you could be.

You hadn't even bothered to take off your dress before gathering your things hastily, you were that distracted.

As you stuffed the last of your things in your bag, you circled the room, realizing you now didn't know the next step to this plan of yours.

You really should've thought this through before you came upstairs and talked to one of the receptionists downstairs to see if another arrangement can be made. Or maybe you could persuade one of the girls to let you crash for one night until you could figure things out for the next day.

You were sure Yaoyorozu would concede if you begged hard enough.

But you didn't want to take a chance of Bakugou seeing you so you didn't linger in the lobby, which was in clear view of where the party was being held.

This was bad, you didn't have anywhere to go. You would need to go talk to someone for another room which means you have to go back downstairs.

Well, maybe not. Maybe you could call downstairs and have them—

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

You froze at the temperamental voice seething with fury and dropped the hotel phone you had grabbed in the heat of the moment, squeaking when you saw how livid Bakugou looked and tripped over your feet, falling backwards onto the bed.

Your body bounced as it hit the mattress and you covered your face as he strode toward you, and you bolted back up to your feet, mumbling through your fingers.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea it was your birthday today!!!" You squeaked, mortified you had been acting so casually on such an important day. You didn't even have a present for him and you gave him overcooked food after trampling on his privacy!!

Leaning against the doorway, Bakugou raised an eyebrow and scoffed irritably as he put the pieces together for himself. "Shitty Hair should've fucking kept his mouth shut."

"I didn't know!!" You cried out, mistaking his rage geared towards his best friend for barging in on his personal space even after he so clearly told you off when he first saw you. Like an idiot, you had thought that he really didn't mind.

Maybe you couldn't read him as well as you thought you could.

"I don't care." Bakugou snarled, annoyed that you didn't seem to get it after all this time as he stomped forward, closing the door behind him and clicking the lock with finality as you tried to scramble past him. "Where do you think you're going, shithead? I didn't say you could fucking leave."

You did a double take and blinked slowly, unsure you really heard him right. It was true you hadn't considered that a possibility, this was Bakugou you were talking about. He hated everybody.

Well, not really, but close enough to make it so that you were sure that he wanted his privacy.

Especially on his birthday.

"I-I—"

Bakugou rolled his eyes irritably. You didn't get it. Fucking fine.

Your eyes shot open as he smashed his lips onto yours but before you even had a chance to do anything about it, shove him off or pull him closer, though it was more likely the latter, he was gone.

Standing with an indifferent expression on his face, he loomed over you and your heart leapt in your throat.

"Holy— Is this real?" You asked breathlessly, fingers tentatively reaching out to run over his tie and make sure you weren't dreaming.

Bakugou smirked at the awe in your voice and it only grew bigger when he noticed how glassy your eyes looked. So he did have the same fucking effect on you that you did on him.

Good.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He declared, crowding you closer as he stepped forward, hot breath puffing out against your lips and you shivered.

You blinked slowly, looking up at him from under your lashes. "... And if I don't want you to?"

"Fuck—" Was all Bakugou got out before he was surging forward, grabbing your shoulders so you couldn't escape.

A muffled squeak tumbled from your lips before it was smothered and you gasped into his mouth as your knees hit the edge of the bed.

As you fell, Bakugou climbed onto the bed and pinned you to the mattress, never once breaking the kiss as he cushioned your fall. His hands fell to your waist as the other entwined in your hair and he let out a groan as you playfully nipped his bottom lip.

"Shit," He breathed when you broke away first, lungs burning with the need for oxygen but you had barely taken a breath when he tilted your jaw back towards him and connected your lips again, harder this time.

It was hot, too hot and he moved languidly in a way that contrasted so starkly with his short-tempered personality that it made your head spin.

"W-What?!" You exclaimed in shock as soon as he drew back to let you breathe, your hands covering your flushed cheeks despite the fact that he could still see you due to the proximity. "Where did that even come from?!"

You were all flustered now and your dress had slipped down a bit further, giving him a peek of what was to come if he didn't stop soon.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. If you didn't get it now, you were even more of an idiot than he thought.

"You can stay." He mumbled gruffly, dropping his gaze from yours.

It took a minute to understand what he was saying.

Coming to your senses, you grinned as you processed his words. He didn't say no outright to what you asked directly so you would take it. The hesitance had all been reduced to a trickle as it caused a hiccup in your thoughts but you tried to see it in a different light.

Maybe he really didn't mind, he wasn't one to lie, especially for no reason. Maybe he was feeling lonely and wanted company for tonight.

Maybe... he liked you too? Was that too far-fetched to believe?

"Really?" You smirked as you waggled your eyebrows at him. "You want someone to keep you warm tonight?

Bakugou flipped you off and you burst out laughing. Wiping tears from your eyes as you calmed down after a few moments, you grinned.

"I had no idea you could be so soft, Bakugou." You teased lightly.

He scowled angrily and sat up, folding his arms over his chest as he stared down at you. "Shut up, you don't make it fucking easy."

You were being such a fucking nuisance. He regretted saying anything in the first place. Who had so many questions after somebody kissed them?

Your eyes glinted mischievous. "Oh yeah?"

He did something you didn't expect.

"Yeah..." Bakugou trailed off quietly, something resembling fondness flickering in the depths of his vermilion eyes.

Your heart started to beat faster and you swallowed. His face was a millimeter away from yours and it was getting harder to breath. His body temperature was so high that you could feel the heat emitting from his form and engulfing you like a warm hug.

"When did it start?" You asked softly, curiosity winning out against the flutter of embarrassment you felt in your chest.

He didn't say it out loud but he didn't have to. You could see it in his eyes that same love that you held for him. How you went all this time without seeing it, you didn't know.

Bakugou's throat bobbed as he dodged your inquisitive gaze, his eyes only darting back to you when you sat upright and smoothed your dress as best as you possibly could to prevent it from wrinkling.

"I dunno." He mumbled quietly. "Since high school or some shit."

"High school?!" You shrieked in disbelief, nearly falling over as you realized it had started around the same time your feelings for him developed. You expected him to say within the last few months when you’ve been working together more frequently, not that he started liking you back at UA!!

He groaned at your grating volume against his ears. Too loud.

"Well hell if I know, shitty woman." He growled loudly. "I can't fucking remember everything."

You grin widened. "That sounds like denial~"

His mouth twisted back in an irritated frown. You were crazy. But somehow, that didn't put him off as much as he claimed to believe.

"It was after the training camp."

You bolted upright at that. You were not expecting him to say that.

After you two were stolen by the League right out from underneath your classmates' noses, you two were put in separate rooms until it was clear you refused to listen to what you had to say until you saw that Bakugou was okay.

He knew, the second they brought you in all chained to the chair and shit just like he was, that he was going to raise hell and murder every single last one of them.

He couldn't go ballistic yet, because as your tired but alert eyes met his from across the room, he knew that this setup increased your chances.

All you needed was an opening.

Shigaraki and Dabi had turned their attention on your first, trying to recruit you and you had tricked them, pretending to sympathize with their cause and got them to trust you by feeding Shigaraki's dark nature and Dabi's sadistic side.

You took their attention off of him and damn it, if it wasn't the bravest and baddest fucking move he'd ever seen.

The both of you had your own nightmares from that terrifying experience.

You couldn't stand to be restrained after that, even if it was only for a second, and Bakugou hated having anything touch his neck.

After he finished telling you all of that, you tackled him in a hug.

Bakugou's hand shot out to catch himself as the two of you toppled over before you crashed to the ground and he muttered a curse into your hair when you nuzzled into his chest.

"Dumbass." He remarked under his breath, hoping you couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding. "What about you?"

"Hmmm?" You hummed, momentarily forgetting what it was that you were talking about since all you could think about now was how his eyes shone with unshed tears as he relieved that terrible memory. But the fact that you were able to give him some small sense of comfort even though you were truthfully freaking out on the inside at the time, was the best thing he could've ever told you.

Well, right next to the depth of his feelings for you.

Bakugou scoffed and scooted forward so that the two of you were teetering on the edge of the mattress. A concussion was not how he wanted tonight to end.

"Tell me when all of your shitty feelings started." He demanded with a blush present on his cheeks and you bit your lip to contain a giggle.

Laying your head on his chest, you idly traced patterns on his shirt since he had shed it outer jacket. "I don't know exactly when it turned from a crush into actual love, but when you got hospitalized, I supposed I realized it then."

Bakugou jerked, stiffening as you mentioned the incident no one ever brought up.

Taking note of his reaction, you affirmed quietly. "We don't have to talk about it, but that's when it started. When I saw how close I could've been to losing you."

Bakugou's heavy breath eased up bit by bit as those words fell from your lips and he closed his eyes. He wasn't ready to talk about it now, but he thought that he would like to one day. If you were still by his side.

The next twenty minutes were spent entangled in each other's embrace as you two made up for lost time, talking about anything and everything came to mind.

Your old infatuation with Shindou that was short-lived because of your feelings for him and Bakugou couldn't help gloating that you were his even then.

How much he longed that he had confessed sooner. Maybe then you would've had those years together.

But he didn't dwell on it, he knew that it would become one of his demons if he lived in the past instead of the present and instead focused on combing his fingers through your hair, reveling in your closeness.

He hummed lowly as he caught a whiff of your fragrance. "Banana and citrus, huh?"

You beamed up at him, twisting around to look at him properly. "You gave it to me!!"

Bakugou smirked, hooking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Damn right I did."

After realizing that the two of you couldn't cuddle forever in your formal wear, you reluctantly untangled from him and started to take off your dress, only to find out that you couldn't do that without his help.

Your breath caught in your throat when he came to stand right behind you, just like before, only this time he was much closer to you, fingertips ghosting over your bare skin in the zipper's wake as he trailed light kisses down your back until he reached the curve of the small of your back.

You whined when he stopped and a smirk curved against the juncture where your shoulder met your neck and you swatted at him playfully.

Bakugou made you sit down so he could take your shoes off before you fell and broke something.

You pouted but did as you were told, quite liking how his calloused hands skimmed over your shins and ankles, and you gasped when he pressed a chaste kiss to your knee.

"Stop teasing me." You whined and he flashed you a grin, tossing your shoes somewhere else.

Bakugou relished in your flustered state, loving how he could make you like this with barely any effort. "It's your fucking turn now, shithead."

"Hey!!"

It was only until after Bakugou had gotten dressed in comfy clothes of his choice, a pair of sweatpants and a tight-fitted long sleeve that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, did you realize it was getting colder and colder by the minute.

The heater was broken and after multiple attempts of tinkering with the settings to get it to start, Bakugou was about to set the thing on fire, but you stopped him just in time.

"Shitty heater." He muttered frustratingly, his palms still popping with sparks. "Fucking five stars my ass."

He threw a tantrum for another minute before giving up, not even bothering to call downstairs to get them to fix it because he didn't want anyone in his 'personal space'. Oddly enough, you felt kind of happy that he was letting you in his personal space without any a fight.

You giggled and he raised an eyebrow at you after throwing you his hoodie, begrudgingly, but he still did it so you weren't complaining about the temperature. "It's just, I never imagined you'd be the one to confess."

He turned to you, a mix of irritation and poorly suppressed puzzlement on his face. "Hah?"

You bit back a smile at his tamed reaction. How cute.

"It's just in all the scenarios in my head," You drew your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top. "I was always the one confessing to you and then getting rejected."

Bakugou scoffed, stomping over to you with a slight pout that would've been unnoticeable if the light was any dimmer. The curtains had been drawn, basking the room in a warm glow that came from the fairy lights strung around the room that had you failed to notice earlier.

"Yeah, well, now fucking look what happened." He grumbled, flicking a piece of lint off your head. "You invaded my room like a cockroach or some shit."

You were sitting upright against the headboard on top of the velvet comforter without a care in the world as your sweater paws flapped playfully. In such a high-end hotel room, the two of you in casual attire looked sorely out of place but it didn't matter.

You were happier than ever before.

"Uh, excuse me, I take offense to that analogy." You teased back with a cheeky grin, shoving his shoulder when he crawled on the bed with you, abandoning his quest to fix the heater. "And I do recall mentioning how it was either this or Mineta's room, so it's not my fault."

Bakugou's mouth twisted into a scowl as you said the pervert's name and he huffed before looping his arms around your waist and laying flat on your legs. His head buried into your stomach, your eyes softened and you brushed the hair back from his eyes, his eyelids closing at the soothing sensation of you carding your fingers through his hair.

You hummed to yourself as he started drifting off. "Soft..."

"Fuck off." He mumbled into your waist but there was none of the usual venom to it.

Your chest shook with laughter at his unusual response but when you moved to stop just like he had ordered, he caught your wrist. You raised an eyebrow as he looked away from you, the red tint adorning his cheeks giving away what he wanted you to do and without a word, you obliged without so much as a hidden smile.

Bakugou sank into you, his broad shoulders going lax as all the tension melted from his body and he sighed peacefully. He hated socializing. The only good part of that reunion Raccoon-Eyes had coordinated was seeing you all dressed up.

He didn't tell you at the time, he honestly couldn't say it. He was fucking speechless the second you stepped out of the room.

But you looked like a vision underneath those flashy lights that hurt his eyes in the ballroom. You were absolutely stunning and put all of those other extras to shame. He didn't even spew an insult he was going to when he overheard Raccoon-Eyes squeal and proclaim how gorgeous you looked because she wasn't wrong.

You were beautiful. And way out of his league.

It was all he could think about all the way down the elevator and into the party, even after you broke off from him. At least, it was all he could think about until Dunce Face decided to make a move on you, being all suave and slick.

At the time, he was ready to storm over there and break it up until you laughed at something Kaminari said and he was painfully reminded of how you weren't his.

He then proceeded to drown all of his sorrows at the bar but cursed his inability to get shit-faced due to his high tolerance.

Exploding in a fit of rage over the culmination of how dazzling you were, how some guy was probably going to get lucky tonight and it wasn't going to be him, and how fucked up the situation was that you were going to be staying with him while he had a raging boner for you 24/7, he stalked upstairs to go pout in the corner only to find you stammering out apologies and packing your suitcase.

He vaguely remembered something about you saying something about his birthday and that's when he snapped.

To put it bluntly, he had never been a fan of celebrating useless holidays. People ate food and used it as an excuse to all gather in one place and socialize with all their fake friends, he hated scenes like that.

Which is why he was against this reunion at first but something in the back of his mind convinced him to come. Something that said that if he showed up, there was a good chance that you would be here too and it would make all of this worth it.

And that was only confirmed when Kirishima slipped that little tidbit of information in his invitation via text.

Bakugou couldn't believe his luck when he walked into his hotel room and you were standing right there. There was something so soft, so domestic about it that had him dropping his bag instantaneously and he fought to rein in his instincts to stride over to you and hug you from behind. He would rest his chin on your shoulder and ask what you were cooking, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as he hinted at what he wanted to do before the kids came home.

That was the type of future he had always envisioned with you. The one he always thought would be unobtainable. The one that he constantly dreamed about anytime he got a break from the nightmares and darkness that plagued his thoughts constantly.

And now you were all his. All of that was suddenly possible. He had a chance with the best thing that ever walked into his life and he wasn't going to screw it up.

Realistically, and he was a very realistic person despite being short-tempered, he knew he was getting ahead of himself. Take it slow, he had to tell himself to take it slow.

You hummed, bringing him back down to reality. "Where's that head of yours at?"

"Fuck off and die."

But his threat came out muffled as his face was currently nuzzled into your stomach and you couldn't stop the fit of laughter that burst out as you giggled uncontrollably, laughing even harder when he looked up to glare at you, only for his eyes to be so glazed over from how relaxed he was that you would've mistaken it for subspace if not for his mouth twitching irritably.

"Aw, is baby maybe a little comfy?"

He hissed and untangled himself from you, pouting like a little kid as he created some distance between you two. "I'm not a fucking baby."

You cooed and pinched his cheeks, pulling them apart slightly and giggled at how squishy he looked in that moment. "Dummy."

Bakugou snorted arrogantly but didn't shove you off despite his hard glare. "The only dumbass here is you."

"I didn't say dumbass, I said dummy." You corrected matter-of-factly. "And besides, it's a term of endearment, Katsuki."

He rolled his eyes but his heart trembled dangerously as he heard his given name fall from your lips so sweetly for the first time. He would never get tired of hearing that.

Bakugou cleared his throat and removed your hands from his face, your forlorn pout not passing by unnoticed.

"Fucking idiot." He mumbled under his breath, bringing a hand up to rest it on your head briefly as he leaned his forehead against yours for a second.

You grinned, a full-blown smile that caused his heart to skip a beat at how radiant you were. And then, he got an idea.

But you were surprised when he suddenly got up and tilted your head curiously when he exited the room.

Unlike before when you were so quick to jump to a conclusion, you assumed he had a reason for leaving so abruptly without explanation.

The gears turned in your head as you followed him out, bringing the blanket with for good measure because you were freezing. Until the maintenance could get here, you would have to deal with the chill. Apparently this was an issue that didn't just pertain to you.

Todoroki had texted you and said he was having issues with his too, along with some others who had filed out from the ballroom to crash in their own rooms for the night.

But waiting wasn't too hard. Perhaps you could persuade your new boyfriend to cuddle you.

You poked your head around the corner, growing even more puzzled as Bakugou stomped around, grabbing his keys first before hunting for something else.

"What are you doing?" You asked, unable to quell your curiosity and bewilderment.

He threw an embellished pillow back down on the couch as soon as he checked under it. "I don't know where I put my fucking wallet."

You laughed at his grumble and patted his chest with a wink. "Wait here."

Bakugou eyed you suspiciously as burrito-you darted off back towards the bedroom but his expression cleared up when you came racing back with the slim wallet in your hand, thankfully leaving behind the blanket as you caught onto what he was doing. He took it silently, frustrated with himself for not checking his coat pocket first to save him of this embarrassment.

"Thank you." He mumbled as he turned away. He felt like he was ten again, that's how damn shy he was when it came to you.

A broad grin spread from ear to ear on your face.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked cheekily and he scowled.

"I didn't fucking say anything!!" He exploded, grabbing your wrist and stomping towards the door. "Hurry up, we're leaving."

"Eh?!" You protested but didn't fight him. "Where are we going?"

You were only wearing shorts and his hoodie over your thickest thermal. Since it was warm outside, you hadn't bothered to pack any extra layer and you shivered as a chill ran down your spine. Yup, definitely couldn't wait to go back outside.

"None of your damn business." Bakugou spat as he dragged you out of the room and locked the door.

You continued to pepper him with questions, increasing your pitch when you saw how his nose twitched every single time you annoyed him.

Adorable.

By the time you got back down to the first floor, you were clinging to his arm, teeth chattering from the air conditioning, and he was facing away from you in a manner that clearly stated he regretted bringing you along.

"You love me~" You teased.

"Shut the fuck up. Like hell anyone would like a dumbass like you." He seethed but still didn't pry you off despite him claiming all those things.

You giggled, skipping on ahead. Once you got outside, you spun around on your heel, jutting out your hip. The warmth of the night air was refreshing and you took in a deep breath, smiling widely.

"Where are we going?!" You asked excitedly, trailing behind him as he started walking away, catching up and almost tripping in the process.

Bakugou caught your arm in a flash as you tipped forward, an angry frown etched on his face but you merely beamed at him and thanked him for catching you.

He turned away with a scoff but grabbed your hand to make sure it didn't happen again. "You're fucking clumsy."

Your smile widened as you detected the tiniest bit of worry underlying his sharp tone and you squeezed his hand, heart skipping a beat when he tucked you underneath his arm.

For safety purposes, you assumed.

You snuggled into his side with a blissful sigh. He was so much warmer than you were, it felt so good.

Bakugou spared you a glance out of the corner of his eye and his chest swelled with pride at the eyes that turned, undoubtedly seeing how unashamed you were to be with him. Holy All Might, you were perfect.

The Solaria Hotel was only a five minute walk away from Lunchrush's Grocery Store, a rather huge chain store that had establishments all over Japan, owned by the hero himself. The same hero whose delicious cooking you guys had lived off of for a blessed three years.

"What are we doing here?" You quipped as your eyes widened the moment you strolled in and took in the vibrant colors of all the produce and many packages that lined the shelves.

"I'm not paying shit for that overpriced room service." Bakugou stated flatly as he tossed you a bundle of carrots he just selected.

Your eyes widened as you quickly caught on. "We're going to be cooking?!"

He snorted, sifting through the produce section to find what he was looking for, weeding out the ones that were no good. "No shit, dumbass."

"Hey!!" You protested but carried on without complaint.

The kitchen in your room was fully equipped with all the amenities. Top of the grade appliances and sterling silverware made you feel like you were going to break something initially but that faded pretty fast as your excitement won over. The only thing it was missing was the food.

You had bought ingredients to make a simple stew on the way to the hotel and stored the leftovers in the large fridge.

The Solaria Hotel did offer pre-organized food boxes that came with various delicious ingredients to make it easy on whoever bought it but they were outrageously priced. Hence why you were now browsing the aisles with a disgruntled Bakugou instead of just purchasing one of those.

But you were definitely not going to complain. One of those boxes could drain your entire month's rent in one go and you were told that the portion sizes weren't very big either.

Definitely not worth it.

You would think that since he was the one to bring you here, he would be more enthusiastic, but no. He was more interested in having a staring contest with the brat at the end of the aisle who was making faces at him as soon as he grabbed the last of the things he needed.

You tugged on his arms, trying and failing to get him to break eye contact with the little boy he was glaring to death.

"Katsuki, c'mon," You begged, losing a battle against that ridiculously fit physique of his. You guys were attracting all kinds of unwanted attention from other shoppers and the mom of the little boy was getting a little curious as to the silent competition going on. "Let's just go."

"No way." He gritted out, never once looking away. "This damn brat needs to learn his f—"

He didn't get to finish the rest of his sentence as you forcibly dragged him away to the cash registers. You shook your head as he scowled and crossed his arms stubbornly. He was such a child sometimes.

Bakugou was so busy pouting that you had dragged him away and made him lose by default that he didn't notice you were already paying for the groceries.

"Oi." He barked at you as you hustled outside with the sky painted dark as night. Only the street lamps and lights hitched up outside the strip mall illuminated the area. "Oi!!"

You flashed him a grin. "Yes, Katsuki?"

He rolled his eyes at the innocent lilt in your voice, acting as if you didn't know exactly what you did. You weren't supposed to pay for anything, he was supposed to be treating you.

"But it's your birthday~" You sang. "And I wanted to!!"

"Tch." He whipped his head around, dodging you as you followed him around playfully.

You were like a dog and he was the bone. He wasn't sure he liked that analogy as much as what it implied.

As soon as you pushed through the grand doors of the lavish hotel, you bumped into someone and sent them crashing to the ground.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry— Wait," You gawked in astonishment at the wasted man before you. "Kirishima?!"

He groaned and rubbed his head. He was sent sprawling after you bumped into him, catching the attention of Mina who was strolling by with a half-conscious Sero on her arm.

"Kirishima, what are you doing?!" Mina exclaimed as she bounded over just as you were helping him up after setting Sero down and making sure that he wasn't going to move. She looked the most awake out of all of them. "Don't run off ahead like that!!"

Bakugou didn't do a thing, choosing to only tap his foot impatiently while he waited for you to be done attending to his shitty best friend.

"L/N!!" He slurred and it was then that you realized he was more than a bit tipsy. "I'm soooooo sorry for not telling you about Bakugou's birthday earlier, it was totally my bad."

You raised an eyebrow at hearing him speak in such an unusual way. Alcohol certainly did things to the brain.

Kirishima clapped his hand on your shoulder, ignoring Sero's whining for him to come back as he peeled Mina away from you three, telling her that he was fine.

Lowering his voice, Kirishima wiggled his eyebrows at you comically and caused you to giggle.

"So... how did Bakugou react when ya told him?" He asked in a whisper that was a lot louder than his drunken mind probably intended.

You flushed as Bakugou's inquisitive gaze fixated on you.

"I'm right here, Shitty Hair." He droned, completely uninterested in the way that this conversation was going.

Kirishima's head snapped up at hearing his voice for the first time and though his dilated pupils had a hard time focusing, he eventually managed to do it and a wide, toothy grin spread from ear to ear.

"Bakubro!!" He drunkenly cheered, throwing his arms out and running towards him.

Bakugou scowled, shoving him away as he went to hug him. "Don't fucking call me that."

Kirishima pouted and whined sadly.

"Awwww but you call me Weird Hair all the time." He complained.

Bakugou grinned. "That's because your hair is a shitty color."

"Hey!!" Kirishima's eyes watered and his lower lip trembled. He burst into tears, clinging to you as you drifted back to Bakugou's side.

Mina's golden irises glinted. "Sooooo, does this mean you guys are together?"

You blushed at the brazen implication and sheepishly nodded, unsure of what else to do.

Bakugou stepped in. He slung his arm around your shoulder, uncaring that he now had a much larger audience now that Midoriya, Iida, Ochako, Tsuyu, Shinsou and Shoji decided to venture outside, others coming out in a steady trickle as the night wrapped up.

You huddled closer to his side, hiding your face in his shoulder, growing nervous at all your friends gathering for reasons you'd rather not voice. You weren't sure how Bakugou would take this, if he would deny you in front of all of them.

He didn't seem like the type but a previous ex had been ashamed of you before so now you were wary. Rightfully so, the guy was a complete prick.

You hadn't dated for very long but it was impactful. The guy hadn't gotten close to your heart but the fact that he wasn't big on physical affection and never wanted to hold your hand in public sent the message that he didn't want to be seen with you.

That had never really sat well with you.

You didn't mind at first. After all, you understood that people had different love languages but he put in absolutely no effort to understand yours. But after a while, it was tiring contributing to a relationship that wasn't reciprocated.

You glanced up at Bakugou as he pulled you in tighter to his side.

"Listen up." He stated roughly, making sure everyone was paying attention. "She's my girl now, so don't you extras try any shit."

Bakugou practically smirked proudly as he stared pointedly at a sheepish-looking Kaminari hiding behind an indifferent Jirou. He was rubbing it in his face for the balls he had to flirt with you earlier.

But that didn't make his declaration any less true or genuine. He was proud to have you by his side, even now more than ever as the two of you explored this new part of your life together.

Hagakure and Ochako squealed at his declaration of love and if it was possible, you reddened even further. But you couldn't kid anyone. You felt like you were flying.

Hiding your face in your hands, your embarrassment came out muffled. "Katsuki..."

He snorted at your shyness, then steered you towards the elevators with you tucked under his arm without so much as a wave of farewell to your friends. He saw your knees knocking together, he knew you were fucking cold, so time to go.

You wiggled, shooting the girls an apologetic smile and laughed loudly as Sero and Kaminari obnoxiously whooped and hollered after you two.

Bakugou flipped them the bird, hiding a proud smile when their drunken cheers only grew louder as Kirishima and Shinsou joined in.

"Oi." He poked you cheek as you didn't lift your face away from your new hiding spot to spare you of any more mortification. "Wake the fuck up, shithead."

A cheeky mumble emerged from where your cheek was ordered up against his shirt. "Is that any way to treat your girlfriend?"

"It is when you're being a dumbass." He retorted flatly.

"Hey!!" You cried out indignantly.

You rode the elevator up, squabbling incessantly the entire way there, drawing odd looks from a few of the other guests that you passed but that paled in comparison to your wide smiles and the satisfied smirk permanently plastered on Bakugou's face.

You were having way too much fun to care about anything else.

Once you made it back to your room successfully, you got to work right away.

Giddy over the fact that he had shown you off and high on the endorphins him claiming you in front of all your friends and fellow colleagues brought you had made you extremely hungry. Keeping up with all of Bakugou's newfound love that he was expressing had zapped your energy far more than you were willing to admit.

"Oi, you're shit at cooking." Bakugou said after a minute of watching you wreck everything in the kitchen.

"Don't yell at me!! I already know I suck at it!!" You whined childishly, throwing up the spatula in frustration.

Bakugou chuckled, plucking the wretched thing from your fingers and took over. You had managed to make soup earlier and not burn down the place in the process so he wasn't sure why stirring the pot was now such a big deal.

But he shook his head as he caught the glint of mischief in your eye. He knew that look. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Fuck, he was screwed. He never should've told you how long he had pined after you. But it was no use, he was too weak for you.

You balked at the soft expression on his face. He had never looked at you like that before.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were blurting out how him declaring that in front of all of your friends had made you so happy and at the downward curve of displeasure on Bakugou's face, you elaborated that you had someone who didn't make you feel very loved in the past.

You weren't sure why you were telling him this. It wasn't like it was exactly easy to say all of this out loud but after years of knowing him, you knew he was the last person who would judge you for feeling the way you were feeling.

So you spilled it all.

You squeaked in surprise as he caught you off guard once you finished, crushing you to his chest. Your hands lifted up and automatically looped around his neck, stumbling a bit as he backed you up against the counter.

"Katsuki?!" You exclaimed in astonishment at the sudden display of affection from the normally so standoffish guy.

"I will never be ashamed of you. You're stuck with me for fucking forever and I'll kill you if you say any other shit." Bakugou muttered into the crook of your neck.

You were moved at his expression of the feelings he had for you and clutched onto the back of his shirt, hugging him tight.

He stayed there, in the same position, pinning you to the counter of the kitchen in the hotel room you had come to share and embraced you until you peeled away.

Bakugou's eyes softened when you looked away from him and sniffled. It could be classified as very unladylike, the way you wiped your nose with the back of your hand, but he didn't give a damn.

You were his.

After all these years of pining after you, thinking that he would never be enough to have you, thinking that he would never amount to someone who deserved you, you were finally his.

His heart was going to explode but if he let that happen, he would have to deal with Shitty Hair, Dunce Face, Raccoon-Eyes and Flat Face for the rest of his fucking life and like hell he would put up with those irritating extras.

Even if they did kind of manage to bring you two together.

The table for two at dinner, your messed up reservation that left you without a place to crash and that dress Ponytail Girl had bought for you, it all added up. They had been planning this for years since they knew of the feelings you both held for each other.

All you needed was a push.

Whatever. There was no way he was going to give them credit for this. They would probably use it as blackmail at some point and he was not going to tolerate that.

He quickly finished up the home cooked meal, flipping open the cap to the soy sauce you bought and drizzled it on top, adding a few drops of sesame oil to complete it and shoved a plate in your direction to bring into the bedroom while he quickly did the dishes.

The midnight moon's light spilled into the room as you danced around Bakugou, carrying two plates full of warm food to the bed after you were done goofing around and pretending to drop them. Sheer silk curtains hanging from the canopy of the bed swished in your wake as you breezed by to open the french doors, setting the plates down on his nightstand before gliding across the balcony that you had missed upon your initial exploration of the room.

This place was so big, you wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of secret passageway in the closet that led to the other rooms.

The night air was pleasant and a welcome change of temperature as it soothed your chilly skin.

You smiled to yourself as Bakugou came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply. His heat encompassed you as he hugged you from behind and lightly kissed the spot just below your ear.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation and gasped when he pinched your side in retaliation.

"Katsuki~"

His given name still felt foreign on your tongue but you'd be damned if you didn't get used to it with the flustered reaction he never failed to give you.

"Don't fucking start with me, dumbass." He smirked, growling lowly. "I don't have a fucking problem with putting you in your place."

You cocked your head to the side, playing dumb, pretending you didn't know what that insinuation meant. "Oh?"

Bakugou groaned as the mood suddenly vanished. "Piss off."

Bakugou cracked a smile though when your easy laughter rang out. Yeah, it wasn't fair that he was left in a now uncomfortable situation but it was worth it to endure if he could hear that sound again.

Fuck, you were so precious.

The late night room service dished out by yours truly was served on the bed while you giggled underneath the covers, hiding from him and shrieking when he found you.

It was warm and fuzzy, the atmosphere easy and relaxed as you cuddled up to him and ate the food he made for you specifically so that it wouldn't make your stomach hurt.

Initially, he had declared that eating on the bed was going to be fucking dirty and messy if you spilled anything, which he was almost 100% sure you would, but gave into you when you transfixed your wide eyes on him, pleading for this one thing.

The two of you didn't look at each other while you ate, you didn't need to. The stolen glances between bites of food were enough as you shared idly and informal conversation to get to know each other better now that your feelings had been aired and returned by the other.

The quiet confession that rang out from you both was almost tear-jerking as he confessed he never thought he would get a chance to be with someone like you and you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, telling him that he deserved the world and more, and if one day you could give it to him, you would.

The heater had yet to be fixed but that didn't bother him anymore as he used the opportunity to gather you in his arms and hug you tight.

Yeah, you two needed to make up for lost time but for now, he was more than content to just let it be. Tangled with you, under the moon and the stars as he kissed you, he swore that he would never stop fighting for you, to protect you always and cherish you with all that he fucking had.

Because Bakugou Katsuki, the man who didn't need anything or anyone to go up against the toughest villains to date, fell to pieces when it came to you.

Bonus:

"I still can't believe you told me that so late. I could've gotten him a gift!!" You complained to Kirishima on the second day when he was hungover and groaning, throwing pillows at you to get you out of his room.

You managed to dodge every last one.

"I mean, I don't get it." You tapped a finger to your chin coyly as you smoothly sidestepped and twirled around two more he launched in your direction. He was going to run out of ammo at this point. "Why tell me so late? And if you guys already knew, then I'm surprised you didn't get anything for him or throw a party or something."

Sero groaned painfully in the corner, his head felt like it was going to split in two and he was quite certain it would if you didn't stop talking soon. "Y/N, it's so early."

"It's noon." You deadpanned, only for Sero to slap a pillow over his face and promptly fall back asleep.

"Y/N!!" Mina called out as she bustled back into the bedroom with a tray of tea. "Where did that boyfriend of yours run off to?"

You blushed as she said it so bluntly and coughed to hide it. "He's trying to get the heater thing sorted out."

Last night, you had been shivering so much that he had taken to warming you up other ways just to get your teeth to stop chattering. And let's just say it was a little harder to walk today because of it.

This morning when you woke up, he had been yelling into the phone that they needed to bring more blankets up right fucking now or else he would explode off their arms since they couldn't do the most fucking simple of tasks and you swiped the phone from him, rapidly and profusely apologizing for his brash language on behalf of the angry pomeranian simmering beside you.

You threw in that you would be grateful if they could spare more but if others needed it more than you told them you two would be fine and could make do before thanking them for their time and hanging up.

And since Bakugou insisted that the heater needed to be fixed today or else you were going to get sick, he allocated you to Kirishima's room, one of the only ones not having any problems while he demanded some answers from the hotel staff and got someone to fucking fix the shitty thing.

So now, here you were. And you had a score to settle with Kirishima anyways, so you weren't bothered.

Mina had already told you everything. Everyone had been in on it.

You weren't shocked by Kaminari and Shinsou and most of the others' involvement in this little scheme but you were surprised to hear it had been Iida's idea to make both of you sit at the same table with no other company.

You'd have to thank them all later.

An hour and several more pillows thrown later, you and Mina had managed to drag down the two sleepy boys just in time to greet your old teachers alongside the rest of your peers as they stepped through the door.

"Aizawa-sensei!!" You cheered, launching yourself forward so that he'd have to catch you.

He did so without much difficulty, his tired eyes brightening up a little bit as you hugged him tight. Out of all his students, he had the closest bond with you.

"Hey, kid." He greeted tiredly, tugging along his sleeping bag and you lifted an eyebrow when you realized that while Midnight and Mic rolled in their luggage, he only brought his trademark yellow sleeping bag. All Might was parking the car and would be come inside within the next few minutes.

"Where's the rest of your things?" You asked just as Yaoyorozu and Iida greeted Midnight and Mic was tackled in a hug by Jirou.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before yawning. "You really think I'm going to do anything else besides sleep this weekend, kid? Nah."

You frowned at him. "You can't just sleep the whole day away."

"Uh uh," He tutted, wagging a finger in your face for a second before yawning again. "Not day. Days."

You pouted at the correction and he rolled his eyes, resting a hand on top of your head to let you know that he was just kidding and you smiled brightly.

"Here, at least let me help bring it upstairs." You bargained, taking it off his hands.

A smug voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Hey, Y/N, why you walking funny?" Kaminari said with a shit-eating grin and it took every fiber of self-control not to freak out.

"Uh, I'm not?"

But your high pitch due to your embarrassment and mortification at being called out won over and Shinsou sniggered in the background.

"Classy." He teased, crossing his arms over his chest. "Didn't peg you for the type to do it on the first date."

"Oh hush, show some respect!!" Yaoyorozu chastised but your dignity was long gone.

Your face broke out in relief though when the elevator in the lobby dinged and a disgruntled Bakugou stepped out, his vermilion eyes widening a fraction when you sped over to him.

"Whoa— What the, why the hell are your eyes red?!" He rushed out, gripping your shoulders and pulling your close to make sure he saw that right. His eyes narrowed angrily when you sniffled. "Tell me who the fuck made you cry."

"Oh shit." Kaminari and Shinsou swore under their breath as your enraged, extremely protective boyfriend stormed over to them with a deadly aura rolling off him in tsunami sized waves.

Midnight held up her hand, stopping him dead in his tracks at the authority his former teacher held. "Hold on please, just a second."

Everyone waited with bated breath to see what she would do. Would she defend you? Tell off Kaminari who had embarrassed you? Or would she let the hothead hell bent on vengeance regain your honor?

She didn't do any of those things.

Instead, Midnight smirked and held out her hand with the palm upturned to Aizawa with a sly smile. "Pay up. I called it."

Your mouth dropped, along with everyone else's as Aizawa forked over 10,000 yen. Even Koda, Sato and Tokoyami looked shocked, which was so rare, it scared you.

Todoroki was the only one who looked confused but Midoriya was right there to explain what was happening and why the sum of money so significant as you shrieked, shrill and high, thoroughly put off.

"What?!" Your embarrassment long forgotten, thankfully, by everyone else as this new revelation hit them like a truck. "You bet on us?!"

"Just you." Aizawa yawned nonchalantly, blinking his eyes wearily. "C'mon L/N, I thought you would turn him down."

"What?!" You screeched as Bakugou narrowed his eyes at his former homeroom teacher, taking that as a challenge.

Aizawa rolled his eyes as Bakugou got all up in his face, demanding to know just what he meant as Mic threw his head back and announced for all to hear.

"Y/NNNNNNN'S GOT A BOYYYYFRIENDDDD!!!!!!"

Clapping your hands over your ears as every single glass thing within the vicinity shattered, you grinned as the tremors passed by within a few seconds. One perk of having time as a teacher who used his quirk so often on accident, all of you learned how to mitigate the most damage he dealt to your surroundings and deflect it.

Jirou shook her head at you in amusement as Bakugou, who was the closest to Mic aside from Kaminari who had taken up refuge from behind Midnight, flatly stated that he could no longer hear.

To which, Mic screamed even louder.

"I CALLED IT FROM DAY ONEEEEEE!!!!"

"That's enough, Mic." Aizawa said, rubbing his temples to ease the headache that had just come on and offered up a slightly reassuring smile to Tsuyu who hopped over to check on him.

Mic pouted dramatically. "But Shouta—"

"Stop it, you're embarrassing them." He sighed, reining in the energetic blond. "And you embarrassing them is embarrassing me."

Midnight cooed. "Awww, he's happy for them."

"Shut up, Nemuri."

You giggled as the three of them began to bicker amongst themselves, who called it first, who saw the chemistry you two had, who was the first one to realize that it was more than just a school crush, all of it.

After beating up Kaminari and Shinsou behind their backs, Bakugou made his way over to you, wiping his hands on his pants and he smiled at you cockily.

"Heater's fixed."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

He hummed. "Mmhm, so wanna get out of here?"

You laughed lightly, being careful not to draw too much attention to yourselves as you slipped away when Mic let out a particularly piercing shriek that he should've gotten the money because he paired the two of you for a project when you were in his English class.

Classic Mic.

"What about breakfast?" You asked as you two took the emergency stairs, at least, just for the first couple of floors until you were clear. You weren't sure your legs would survive the 80 flights just to reach your room.

Bakugou smirked and his mouth ghosted the shell of your ear. "Don't need that shit, I got something better."

Something told you that you weren't going to be leaving the bed for the rest of this trip.

Oh well.

You supposed this was one way to exercise.

[junicai]

Relationship with WAYV

➣ KUN ☾ karia

if it wasn’t for dotae potentially coming to kill him, he would steal aria into wayv

he’s the cool dad? 

they can’t spend a lot of time together because none of their schedules match up, but aria takes every third or so weekend out to come have dinner in the wayv dorms

she’s surprisingly close to the china line, and its a combination of ten dragging her to his dorm for an entire month and them just kinda adopting her when they realized she was a foreigner as well 

yuta can fight them, she’s one of them now

he doesn’t like to baby her a lot, and she really appreciates the break from being the “maknae” so to speak 

however does that stop him from giving her the forehead kithes? no

aria sad? forehead kith

aria mad? forehead kith

aria smad? forehead kith + kuddles (kun cuddles)

he has sent her a passive agressive text when he found out that she wasn’t eating enough again and had almost passed out

but he finished it with a heart so its ok

if she isn’t smiling at all times, someone will die

aria feels like she can trust him with a lot; that no matter what she tells him, he’ll never out her or make fun of her

kun actually took a two-week online course to learn how to make traditional japanese dishes when aria mentioned missing her parents

he originally was going to learn how to make irish dishes, but he changed his mind after seeing what they were

“im not giving my kids boiled cabbage and mashed potatoes what kind of post world war-”

wants to give her a chinese name but hasn’t yet because he hasn’t found the one that fits her right and he wants it to be perfect 

aria teaches him japanese phrases in exchange for him teaching her a little bit of mandarin

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria saw kun’s back as she entered the practice room, the man standing with three other members in the centre of the floor before the choreographer came in to start their practice. coming up behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, peeking her head around from where she was. “hi!” she smiled brightly.

“hi,” ten chuckled, showing her the camera that had just filmed all of that. 

➣ TEN ☾ tenaria

Whipped(TM)

so so gone for her its upsetting actually

yangyang and aria share the position of his baby 

except aria willingly accepts the title while yangyang would rather fling himself from a rooftop

ten’s instagram is half his cats, half miyazu aria

he posts her dancing practice on his story a lot, with a variety of captions ranging from “thats my baby  ♡( ◡‿◡ )” to “yah that’s not right...(눈_눈)”

such an enabler for her bad ideas 

aria wants to go shopping at 4am? ten agrees, now they’re sitting by han river eating ice cream

pls he’s gonna get her in so much trouble one day

when they walk together, ten likes to take her hand and put it in his pocket 

its under the pretense of not wanting her to get lost 

he just wants to hold her hand

yes he has lost her in a shopping mall, and NO it wasn’t his fault

ten always complains that they never have schedules together and he misses his baby 

“we have superm-” “I NEVER SEE YOUUUU (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ”

if they’re in the same room ten is either watching her out of the corner of his eye, or is actually wrapped around her like a boa constrictor 

hugs n kithes all around

only he is allowed make fun of her mistakes in dancing 

anyone else gets deaded. he will fight for her honor how dare you insult his baby 

sm give these ttwo a dancing duo video pls 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

the first and only time aria and ten had a duet was during their last concert on superm’s first world tour. during the second half of ten’s solo performance, aria emerged from the left side of the stage, coming to join him in the centre stage. no one had ever seen aria as serious as she was then, both herself and ten becoming completely different people in the moment. midway through, aria spun with her back to ten and leaped backwards into the air - eyes closed - completely trusting ten to be where she needed him to be to catch her. 

➣ WINWIN ☾ winria

a love hate relationship at its finest

they don’t actually hate each other it’s just really funny to pretend that they do (especially because yuta complains that 2 of his favourite people aren’t getting along)

winwin is so savage towards aria but it’s ok she claps back twice as hard

at first, before czennies had seen enough of their dynamic they thought that they actually did hate each other

but that’s not true they just don’t know how to express, affection, without brutally insulting the other with a loving tone

they are, surprisingly, the most stable pairing in 127 - they have a dynamic and rarely stray from that, which is a good comfort for the fans

despite what they might say to each other, they don’t mean any of it - and winwin has been seen several times raising his eyebrows with a questioning look at aria to make sure she wasn’t taking any of his playful jabs to heart

oh god the flexibility

the entirety of nct is terrified of them

the day sm gives them a circus act is the day that kun and taeyong have a heart attack

quietly supportive of each other - catch aria “playing” with a water bottle and not getting up to get it when it conveniently rolls across the floor and into winwin’s leg

he makes sure to save some new chinese sweets whenever the wayv members get packages from their familes, and sneak it into aria’s room before the managers can catch her breaking her diet

not really physically affectionate with each other, which played into czennies idea that they didn’t like each other but aria cleared it up in a vlive

“winwinnie and I, well. we don’t hug a lot because i know he doesn’t like it as much as i might, so i try to show him i care with other things :)”

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

winwin and aria going in to each other on knowing brothers, to the point where the mc’s had their eyes popping out of their head and waved about to stop the segment before aria could start attacking winwin’s cooking methods-

nothing is off limits when it comes to them

➣ LUCAS ☾ arihei

besties 

please they’re so cute together - tol child next to tini child she barely comes up to his chest :(

bear hugs

he just swamps her in his arms, and when he doesn’t feel like being bent over he picks her up 

complains that she’s too heavy but then immediately after will throw her around like a softball 

someone tell this man to be careful with her she’s not a barbie doll 

singular braincell energy

don’t get it wrong, they’re both super smart 

so it’s just - being smort together, but then nearly dying because neither of them remembered that you couldn’t eat raw cookie dough when there are eggs in it

she adores how he’s so confident in the things that he does - like convincing the entire nct fandom that he was fluent in english? king behaviour

so aria looks up to him (literally) but also because she wants to have that confidence some day 

lucas says they’re not close and then aria pouts and he takes it all back

nczennies made a 14 minute compilation titled “lucas melting like a popsicle in australia for aria” 

and literally what the title tells you, this man goes :(( when he sees her 

lucas was actually the person to convince her to go ahead with the [redacted] proposal - and reminded her that it was too good an opportunity to pass up just because she felt like she was outgrowing the boys

he’s so proud of her

and she’s so proud of him 

they’re so proud of each other and it makes nczennies want to cry because they never are seen together 

sm stop separating the platonic soulmates first markhyuck and now arihei smh

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

during a photoshoot, aria was standing off to the side of the boys, dressed in white suit to contrast the boys’ black ones. the photographer was calling out to her to get her to move closer, but she couldn’t hear him from so far away, and so lucas (who was on the end) just walked over to her, gripped her by the biceps and lifted her vertically and to the left a little bit. 

“luc-LUCAS?”

“you had to move :)”

➣ XIAOJUN ☾ arijun

honestly these two aren’t super close, just because their schedules never matched up until the NCT 2020 promotions

even when aria was dragged to the wayv dorms, xiaojun kept his distance from her because he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable 

even so, when they were filming Make A Wish together, they seemed comfortable enough around each other

there was a mutual agreement to not try fill the silence with awkward small talk, so they sat in silence when left alone together

they’re both shy :( someone needs to get them to talk to each other :(

even so, aria was all supportive smiles and thumbs-up when she saw him getting nervous before their first public stage as the unit 

he was a little intimidated of her at first, but also really curious about how she was holding her own against the other members

not only physically, but her vibes are tiny let the man be concerned ok

his first impression of aria was just: small quiet? she was sitting apart from the other boys in the practice room, and he almost wanted to go over and ask her if she was ok; before she was approached by donghyuck and her face broke into a bright smile 

aria’s first impression of xiaojun was: eyebrows he was really handsome? at first, she thought he was in the wrong room, seeing as the SM modeling auditions were happening in the next room down

any arijun shippers are starved of content im so sorry guys 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

currently still up for debate between the fandom :(

➣ HENDERY ☾ aridery

ah these two 

you might as well sign a waiver if you decide to do anything with them, because they can and will get you killed 

kun can testify

ten’s the enabler but hendery is the do-er

super giggly around each other, for no reason at all

hendery could pick up and throw a basketball and suddenly aria’s on the floor in literal stitches 

have a secret code 

no seriously

they don’t text in words, they just send various reaction memes and a colourful variety of emojis to convey emotions and scenarios 

it’s become quite a beautiful language actually 

got some nice proverbs in there

they’re like, cousins but the ones you only see at family reunions but get so hype to see them

that energy 

asides from the chaotic, murderous vibes they possess as a duo

hendery knows what it’s like to miss home, to miss your parents, etc etc

and so he tries to make aria feel as home as possible - especially with wayv, because they’re all foreigners who know how she feels 

whenever he gets packages from his parents who have sent things over, he always makes sure to keep some of the small treats/sweets back for aria

1. because he knows she’ll appreciate the thought and she gives good hugs

2. because he knows she’s on a diet constantly and never allowed eat these things when she’s in the dorms with managers around 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

filming the Resonance “Wish” event, aria was put in a skimpy minimalistic mock-suit to differentiate from the others’ clothes. unfortunately, that left aria with a little too much shoulder and chest on display than she would like, and she was noticeably uncomfortable with her clothes, constantly pulling it up and even going so far as to just hold it with her hands. 

hendery saw this, and knew he was finished filming his segment for the time being, so he pulled off his own jacket and tossed it over to aria, who caught it with a grateful smile. “thank you,” she mouthed to him, tugging the dark blue material over her shoulders.

➣ YANGYANG ☾ ariyang

aria. has 9 days of age on this boy and will never let him forget it

“respect your elders you brat” “9. DAYS.”

european pals 

they feel so cultured when they get asked about europe, and then are kindly reminded by hendery that A. Germany started 2 world wars, and B. Ireland was just a British colony until 100 years ago. 

they both hit him for that

aria teaching him curse words in irish and yangyang teaching her curse words in german? more likely than you’d think 

they met before yangyang’s debut was announced, in a practice room that had let them accidentally overlap their practice times 

instead of working it out between them, they actually just started to alternate their songs - and the other gave them some good, constructive criticism 

most of the time

when they found out they were going to be in 90s Love together, they were so happy 

it was going to be their first official schedule together

all the behind-the-scenes videos are just aria and yangyang being children and then ten coming over and cooing at them 

they love ten, but they will trash talk the man behind his back 

yangyang confessed to her that he sometimes feels nervous when speaking korean, like he’s going to make a big mistake

so she tries her best to teach and correct him where she can, and make him as comfortable as possible 

if you look at any of the 90s Love promotions - aria is always beside yangyang

he bit her ear once

she doesn’t know why and he won’t tell her

but now when she makes fun of him, he threatens to do it again 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

aria skating onto the rink during filming, and yangyang following her because she promised to teach him how to skate backwards.

“ok just, think like you’re leading with your heels. press your knees in, and push outwards, with you-no no that’s forwards. go backwards yangyang.”

“no no no thats a WALL YANGYANG STOP-” 

[klbwriting]

Walls - Chapter 4

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz/female!Reader

Summary: Kaz finds out about something Rollins is planning and tries to stop it

Taglist: @itsemy01 @sagewrites111 @aysegust @moondustmarauder @marinettepotterandplagg @bi-disaster101 @thedelusionreaderbitch @maybe-potato @malfoy-wife15 @fornarniaandforthefandom @rika90 @spawn0fsatan​ @aelnpruz​ @carlalyz​ @a-disappointing-teen-author​

           Being 12 in the Dregs was the perfect time to learn.  Kaz was young enough that Per Haskell and the older members thought he was still green, too young to really know how to listen and learn, so they let him sit in on meetings, let him carry messages around town, and let him organize and clean offices alone.  He used all of this time to absorb all the information he could about everyone.  Who was paying who and how much, who wasn’t sleeping with their wife that night, or who had just bought a boy from a slaver, everything he could learn to use at a later time.  So when Haskell sent him to the Emerald Palace was a note for Pekka Rollins Kaz took it gladly, desperately wanting to learn some secrets.  However, when he read the message, his heart jumped to his throat.  

I’ll have some Dregs waiting for Mellar and that girl by the Crow Club after 10 bells, they’ll rough her up good, give her a lesson for you.  Make sure Mellar knows and stays by the backdoor so she can’t get into the club.  You owe me. – Haskell

           He knew that the ‘her’ being referred to had to be Y/N.  She was the only person that Mellar was in charge of overseeing.  He wasn’t sure what lesson Rollins wanted to teach her this time or why but he knew he had to stop it.  He delivered the message as promised but instead of returning to the Slat he looked around, figuring the way that Mellar would probably take her to get to the club.  He waited on a street that wasn’t normally crowded, bordering the back of some taverns and the canal.  He stood, biding his time, his knife already in his hand.  

           It was dark and the street in front of the Emerald Palace was filling up just as Mellar walked out, Y/N following behind him.  He glanced around, not a care in the world, he was Pekka Rollins’s enforcer, no one would touch him.  Y/N was the daughter of the most powerful slum lord in the Barrel, she was safe outside of her home.  At least, that’s what Mellar thought as he started down the side street near the canal, wanting to get this business over and done with.  Y/N had been lippy with him all day and he couldn’t wait to see her get what was coming to her, harden her up some.  He past in front of Kaz without noticing.  Y/N stopped.  She would find Kaz no matter where he was, she looked at him and he sent her a smirk before he jumped out of the shadows and onto Mellar’s back.  He put his arm around to the man’s front and started stabbing, not caring where he hit or if he got cut in the process.  Mellar let out a cry and fell to the ground, struggling to get away.  

           “They heard him…one of the barkers is coming, give me the knife,” she said, snatching it away from him. Kaz looked at her as she started stabbing herself.  “Hide!” Kaz dove into an alcove between the taverns, holding his breath as a barker ran past him and to Y/N.  

           “Just wait until your father…” he started.  She growled and held up the knife.  

           “What in the hell are you doing stupid girl?” came Rollins’s voice.  Kaz could see him walking up to her.  He looked between Mellar’s dead body and her, shaking his head.  “Well, guess there’s a little bit of fight in you isn’t there?”  He reached out, grabbing her by the hair to drag her back to his club, but she slashed the knife out, cutting his arm pretty bad.  He growled and she instantly cowered back, knife falling to the cobbles. He had her hair still, so he bent down and picked up the knife.  Kaz almost revealed himself then, wanting to save her, but he knew he couldn’t.  They were outnumbered by 3 fully grown men, the odds were against them and he wasn’t foolish enough to try to play hero.  

           “Maybe you should get a taste of what Mellar felt,” Rollins said, stabbing the knife into her shoulder, pushing it in up to the hilt before pulling it out again.  Y/N was panicking, her breath coming in short pants. “Here, a night in the canal should do you good.”  He pushed her back and Kaz watched with horror as she fell back into the water, starting to sink.  Rollins told the others to clean up Mellar’s mess before heading back.  While they were distracted Kaz slid out and dove into the water.  It took him a few seconds to find her floating just under the surface.  He didn’t want to do this, it was too much like Jordie, but he couldn’t let her die in there.  With all the will he could muster he slid one arm under her arms and swam towards the nearest set of stairs.  He pulled her up, taking his shirt off and tearing off his sleeve.  He wrapped it around her wound, tying it as tight as he could hoping that would be enough until he could get her somewhere a little safer.  

           Once the barkers had finished with Mellar’s body Kaz picked Y/N up, trying to be gentle while also ignoring the bile in his throat.  He swallowed down the sick and climbed the stairs, keeping to alleys and side streets that were less crowded until he found the old burned out pleasure house near the Slat.  There was a door that only swung open enough for a child or maybe small adult could fit through.  Kaz set Y/N’s unconscious body against the wall and slid inside before pulling her in after him.  He carried her to an old bed on the wall and laid her down.  She was still breathing so he left to find something to use as a better bandage.  He found an old cotton dress, something worn by one of the girls probably, and tore off a piece.  He set about dressing her wound properly and once that was done and he knew he wouldn’t need to touch her again he vomited in a corner, his body shaking as he came to terms with what had happened.  He had been able to keep the images and feelings at bay while he helped her, his need to save her had overridden his sickness.  That was something to keep in mind for later, this could be overcome, but only when a stronger feeling came around.  

           “Kaz?” he heard her whisper.  He moved over to the bed and sat down on it.  She was awake, face still lacking color due to blood loss.

           “You’re alive, we’re in that Dove’s Nest pleasure house that burnt down,” he said.  She nodded slowly, eyes starting to focus.  

           “He stabbed me, threw me in the canal,” she said.  

           “And yet somehow you don’t have gangrene,” Kaz said, trying to take her mind off of the betrayal she had suffered.  She laughed a little, but he knew his ploy hadn’t worked.  Her life was a betrayal, from her father’s abuse, to those around her laughing at his actions, to the saints and gods that did nothing to save her.  Kaz was the only person who hadn’t betrayed her, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he did.  He would have to if he wanted to destroy Rollins’s life, he just hoped she would understand.  “Where is your mother?  Why isn’t she helping you?”

           “My mother died having me,” she said.  “I think that’s when my father decided I was a demon incarnate, come to bring him shame and suffering.”  She tried to move her arm but just whimpered.  Kaz tried to help her sit up but she waved him away.  “Don’t force yourself, I don’t want to make you feel more uncomfortable than you already do.”  Was he that transparent to her?  

           “Is that why he does this to you?” he asked, motioning to her shoulder.  She nodded.  

           “He thinks it will harden me, make me more like him if I suffer enough I will want to make others suffer.  It just does the opposite, I never want anyone to feel like I do ever again,” she said. So noble, Kaz wished he could be more like that sometimes.  Imagine being able to take all the bad around you and try to make it good.  She was trying to rise out of the swamp she was born while Kaz was nesting deep in it, building a nice summer home for him to spend his days.

           “Get some rest,” he said softly, wanting this conversation to be over.  This was too draining for him.  She didn’t fight him, just laid her head down and closed her eyes. He could hear her breathing even out so he snuck out, finding food and water for when she woke up.  He set himself up next to the bed and leaned his head back on the drooping mattress, watching her sleep.  His eyes closed and he dreamed about killing Mellar again, only this time he finished the job, and in the dream she kissed him and he didn’t feel sick, he felt like flying.  

           In the morning she woke up after him, seeing just a note left nearby telling her to eat and drink and then get home.  She smiled softly and ate the crackers he had left.  She looked around the room and smiled a little.  This could be a nice place to stay.  As she walked back to the Emerald Palace she started planning how she could make that old brothel a little home for her.  However, that dream ended the moment Rollins told her to come to his office.  

           “Its time you start taking responsibility around here, I’ve coddled you too long,” he said.  “Seeing that killer instinct last night made me realize, you’re almost grown now, time for you to be a lieutenant in my gang, time for your first real job.”

           “And what job is that?” she asked.  He smiled.

           “You are going to rob the Black Tips safe house past West Stave, take your new guard with you, gather some lions and get it done by tomorrow night,” Rollins said, motioning for a young man a of couple years older than her to follow.  She glanced at him and he smiled at her, it was kind and she almost fell for it.  Her father knew she was starting to get feelings for someone, she was at that age that things like that happened, so he was pushing someone from his crew for her to fall for.  And since Kaz was unreachable, someone she couldn’t ever actually be with, maybe she would let it happen.  She would keep Kaz in her heart, locked away in that place only soulmates get to stay. Maybe someday she could take him out and let those feelings really grow, but not now, not until the Dime Lions were dead and Kaz was sitting on their ashes.

[dontwakeme-causeimdreaming]

SPOILERS: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

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So I know when Suzanne Collins announced she was releasing a prequel to the Hunger Games, there was a lot of backlash that the main character was President Snow. I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed TBOSAS and have a lot of thoughts about it. (Bear with me this will be really long)

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1. My first thought: Tigris? Like ~the~ Tigris from Mockingjay? They seem so close what happened between them to make Tigris willing to betray her family to Squad 451... obviously she was fired as a stylist for being too altered, but is there more?

2. I find it interesting that some of the improvements to The Hunger Games were Snow’s idea, like the betting and the providing the tributes food to make a better show

3. It’s absolutely horrible to see that the tributes were treated so inhumanely (Kept in the Monkey House at the zoo, starved, and given a veterinarian rather than doctor) but it’s also haunting to see the desensitization that eventually came along when it became more like a sport than senseless revenge in the Capitol. At least the Capitol children saw the problem in the 10th Games compared to the 74th

4. Reaper apologizing for having to kill the other tributes (188) is such a stark contrast to how Cato and Clove relish in killing when Katniss is in the 74th Games, which shows how well President Snow (or perhaps Dr. Gaul) did his/her job in turning the districts’s enemy into the other districts before the Capitol

5. It’s also interesting how Snow’s tribute (FROM DISTRICT 12) won the games because Snow bent the rules and relied on cleverness much in the way Katniss (obviously also from District 12) won her games

6. I LOVE that Lucy Gray wrote the Hanging Tree it must’ve been so haunting for Snow to hear when the propo of Katniss singing aired

7. The similarities between Lucy Gray and Katniss!!!

-Both have a younger relative they take care of

-Only females victors from 12

-Won by using cunning intelligence (Lucy Gray with the poison, Katniss with the berries)

-Singing the Meadow Song and the Hanging Tree

-Swimming in the lake

-Both consider running off the escape from 12 and survive in the woods

8. Snow defies the capitol (handkerchief in the snake tank) just like Katniss (the nightlock berries) to help win the games

9. “Some people call them swamp potatoes, but I like katniss better. Has a nice ring to it” (436) oh Lucy Gray! I know Katniss is a plant but it’s so fun seeing the name casually mentioned in the prequel not as a heroine but just as an ordinary name. Little does Snow know, a girl named after that plant is going to be his downfall

10. “What if this was his life: rising whenever, catching his food for the day, and hanging out with Lucy Gray by the lake? Who needed wealth and success and power when they had love?” (438) contrasted with “He [Corionlanus] imagined a group of people in wild animal furs scraping out existence in a cave somewhere. He supposed such a thing could happen, but that life would be a big step down from even the districts. Barely human” (395)

-It’s no wonder Coriolanus wants to marry a woman he detests (516) if loving Lucy Gray made him consider living in conditions he called “barely human”

11. I love Snow’s disdain for the mockingjays obviously because Katniss becomes ~the Mockingjay~, but I also love how Snow hates them because they represent a failure to the capitol, an “unauthorized co-opting [of] Capitol technology” (439), showing that the Capitol is not as necessary as they would believe (which Katniss as the Mockingjay emphasizes in the future when she dismantled the Capitol)

-“Coriolanus felt sure he’d just spotted his first mockingjay, and he disliked the thing on sight” (352)

-“He [Coriolanus] didn’t mind the jabberjays so much — they seemed rather interesting from a military standpoint— but something about the mockingjays repelled him” (417)

12. Do you think Sejanus knew that Snow betrayed him when he mouths Coryo? (470) For his sake, I hope he didn’t so that he could die feeling as though he still had a best friend rather than add more sorrow to his death

13. “Was the goal of survival further survival and nothing more?” (495) —> “but at least he would ensure survival for survival’s sake” (516)

-This reminds me of Gale’s rants in the woods when he and Katniss are hunting, how they’re surviving but not living, and that it’s a cause for rebellion and uprising

-It’s interesting to see Snow’s mindset change, from when he considered survival as the only virtue in his life when he and Lucy Gray were about to run off compared to when he decides he is capable of becoming the president and ensuring survival

-When Snow decides to ensure survival, it seems more as though ensuring the survival of the oppression to maintain his power rather than save humanity, as he claims. He, too, had scorned the idea of surviving to survive earlier (495), so why should he want the people in the districts to survive just to survive? Certainly not for humanity

14. Even the person who created The Hunger Games — Dean Highbottom — thinks they’re awful (515)

15. “Snow had been the ruination of them both” (516) 

-Even though Snow doesn’t know what happened to Lucy Gray that day in the woods, I would assume she died because in the Hunger Games novel, “Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In seventy-four years, we have had only two. Only one is still alive” (THG, 19). Obviously the victor still alive is Haymitch.

-Although, perhaps she starved because music became outlawed with the arrival of the new mayor.

-I find it interesting that District 12 even knew there was more than one victor seeing as Dr. Gaul destroyed all evidence of the 10th Games.

16. Snow hates the idea of women selling their bodies in exchange for things  they need to survive, as he sees it as losing all dignity, (like when he feels disgust at the line in Lucy Gray’s song from her interview on page 175), but then he makes the victors sell themselves once he’s president

17. It’s interesting to see the effect that Dr. Gaul has on Snow, because obviously her teaching is what made Coriolanus’s mindset change

-He calls her a lunatic (114) and agrees with Tigris when she calls Dr. Gaul sadistic (125) and felt horrified at the way Marcus’s body was displayed once caught (206), but he still says that he’ll continue the Hunger Games when he’s the president (516)

-He felt guilty murdering Bobbin (248), but in his reign as the president he was responsible for hundreds of deaths (which he never denied but did not seem to feel guilty for either in Mockingjay)

18. President Snow is known to poison his enemies to maintain his control, so I liked seeing him poison his first victim — Dean Highbottom — with rat poison (517). 

[kotsuvi]

WHAT THE HQ BOYS ARE LIKE DURING THANKSGIVING/FRIENDSGIVING

a/n: okay this is kinda a take on canadian/american thanksgiving—yanno with all the pumpkin pie and the turkeys and the fall colours? i just thought it would be kind of cute.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking for some

KARASUNO

daichi: told-no, COMMANDED asahi and suga to wear fall colours. like seriously wore the brown khakis with the orange sweater and little socks with turkeys on them. it’s at his house, so he insisted that suga and asahi arrive early and sit at the table together, just to make the other guests feel bad about not being dressed up. yells at the guests to stop touching his family’s ornaments and paintings. gets kita to help babysit.

suga: was actually going to dress up anyway, so he took it as the perfect chance to wear his turkey knit sweater. it has tiny little turkeys all over it like it’s so fuckin cute. lowwwwkeyyyy makes daichi blush when he sees him but like we’re not gonna talk about it. brings a delicious fruit salad that’s eaten almost singlehandedly by lev and hinata.

asahi: panics because he doesn’t have a lot of nice things to wear. like FREAKS OUT in front of his closet, close to tears. legit settles on a tan shirt, brown pants and black boots with a slight heel. definitely gets teased by tendou about keeping the beard. “keeping it intact,” he replies. brings cabbage rolls. also brings brownies, and has to fight the urge to eat them all on the way over.

nishinoya: arrives slightly late, but worth the wait. busts through the door screaming about how hungry he is. doesn’t take of his shoes in the house so he trails mud EVERYWHERE. also sneaks in a couple bottles of cider. he’s been thinking about this feast for days, and he just can’t wait. talks with his mouth full of food. probably spits mashed potatos on akaashi at some point. gets drunk off of his secret cider and asks iwa if he likes being second best to oikawa.

tanaka: arrives shortly after noya, despite saeko speeding to get there. you can literally hear him talking from ten houses away. argues with bokuto over stupid things; ends up nearly starting a food fight. eats with his fingers, literally no utensils, and doesn’t use a napkin. secretly grossing everyone out. thinks that he can win a turkey eating contest, but daichi shuts him down before he can get started. is DEDICATED to the kareoke. even sings a song for kiyoko.

hinata: so incredibly excited to eat. this kid could not SLEEP he was so excited. gets cursed with sitting next to ushiwaka and tendou, who bully him about his hair being thanksgiving colours year-round. budges everyone in line for the food. of course daichi then makes him go last. yells at kageyama for getting the best part of the turkey: the skin. atsumu tells him that ginger beer is a new type of “delicious juice” and he drinks it all, nearly throwing up afterwards. lowkey got flustered when tanaka was singing britney spears.

kageyama: tells everyone that he doesn’t want to go, but is actually extremely excited as well. for some reason he snoops through daichi’s house while everyone is eating? he just wants to take a look around, and then suddenly he’s in daichi’s parents’ bathroom, inspecting shampoo labels. literally doesn’t eat sitting still either. he just stands behind his chair? oikawa starts a rumour that he can’t sit because he has hemorrhoids, and kags responds by throwing his drink in oiks’ face. that really starts a riot. really he just wants to be standing so he can run to the kitchen and get more food in an emergency.

tsukishima: brings his headphones just in case he’s stuck next to bokuto or someone really loud and obnoxious. of course he is. bokuto AND tanaka. everyone tries to coax him into kareoke after the meal, and he declines, but really wants to prove to kuroo that he is the most angelic singer there. “accidentally” tips his drink into bokuto’s lap, but the guy is so busy yelling at tanaka that he doesn’t even notice, so tsukki tips another. goes on his phone at the table. tells tadashi to get all his meals for him because he doesn’t want to stand in line.

tadashi: goes through one (1) mental breakdown when he’s seated beside aone instead of tsukki. pours WAAAAAAY too much gravy on his meal because he’s just so nervous. like literally SWAMPS his turkey and vegetables. his mom forced him to bring a green bean casserole. he doesn’t even like casserole. sits across from oikawa and this mans won’t stop asking for photos of him and iwa, so tadashi is tasked with that for the night. offers to help daichi with the dishes afterwards. gets awarded with an extra slice of pumpkin pie.

saeko: handed her cider to noya beforehand because she just knew that daichi would check her at the door. she gets drunk halfway through anyway. challenges iwa to an arm wrestling competition. winner gets the losers pumpkin pie with EXTRA whipped cream. the sexual tension skyrockets. she wins but accidentally shoves iwa’s fist into akaashi’s cranberry sauce. gets scolded by daichi MULTIPLE times. too drunk to care.

kiyoko: also came over early. made butternut squash that is to die for. helps set up even though she knows that it’s just going to become a mess. keeps track of the points for kareoke. may or may not have given tanaka extra points for singing “i’m a slave 4 u” by britney spears.

yachi: of COURSE this girl has to sit between aone and ushiwaka. of course it works like that. and chicky is terrified. spills her drink on the nice tablecloth and pleads for kiyoko and daichi to spare her life. thinks that the kareoke is too loud. nearly craps her pants when bokuto jumps up on the table. brings glazed donuts for dessert.

coach ukai: daichi invited him just to be polite but then he??? ended up??? coming??? literally shocked everyone into the sixth dimension. says he isnt going to stay for long, but mans is there the WHOLE night. busts out with some MR. WORLDWIDE;)))!!

AOBAJOHSAI

oikawa: his one mission was to be best dressed, and judging by the appalled look on daichi’s face when he first entered, he succeeded. this mans wont shut up either, and even tho everyone yells at him, they’re actually invested in his stories. he tells a whole bunch from middle school and his earliest volleyball memories, and everyone??? likes it??? they’re intrigued the whole time. goshiki and lev listen extra hard. mans wants pictures as well. he needs to show his fans that he does actually have friends. of course he gets the photos before kags dumps the drink on his head, and then he goes feral. teases iwa about the second best comment, but apologizes to him after, assuring that iwa is an amazing ace.

iwa: only went there for oiks. the mans had plans with his family, but he knew that it meant a lot to oikawa, so he showed up. literally goes into a FIT of rage when he loses the armwrestling match, then further infuriated with noya’s comment. chases the kid around the table. nearly knocks out his teeth by tripping into a cabinet. leaves early after throwing a temper tantrum, then receives a formal apology from both oikawa and daichi later on.

matsukawa: i just know this mans smokes at family functions, so what’s stopping him from getting high at friendsgiving? of course he only smokes a lil, just enough to get a good buzz, because he wants to still be respectful. offers to refill drinks when he gets his own. helps pack up the leftovers. tries desperately to catch iwa as he chases noya around, but doesn’t succeed. he can’t really feel his fingers or his face, so he doesn’t smile or laugh like... the whole night.

hanamaki: maybe sneaks out to join mattsun. maybe. no, definitely. and he’s not used to it, so you BET this man is trippin. he tries his best to hide it, but of course suga can tell. he confuses cranberry sauce with champagne, so he literally drinks the damn sauce from a wine glass the whole night. oikawa certainly has pictures for the next morning to prove it too. 

kyoutani: doesnt get invited to a ton of things, but he decided to go to this. brings a pumpkin, which is nice, but daichi is like wtf am i meant to do with this??? but it’s a nice gesture. tries to engage in the conversation between the twins, but only gets frustrated when he can’t hear. threatens to flip the table once. cant find the bathroom and ends up taking a piss in the yard.

NEKOMA

kuroo: the one with the kareoke machine. absolutely did not tell daichi he was bringing it, but then pulls it inside. “get a load of this bad boy!!!” “kuroo what the hell is this???” i just know that everyone wants to sit beside this man at the table. he’s cracking jokes and people are straining to hear. it’s a match between him and oiks: who’s telling the better story? also won’t leave. like it’s 2am and he’s still there, swaying alongside bokuto and coach, singing early 2000’s nelly furtado.

kenma: KUROO AND HINATA CONVINCED HIM TO DYE THE TIPS OF HIS HAIR ORANGE. he HATES it. buttttt he’s keeping it even though people tell him he’s a hinata wannabe. “but why would i want to be like shoyo?” “hey kenma that’s not very nice!!” definitely plays games at the table. doesn’t even try to hide it. gets gravy on his switch and uses lev’s shirt as a napkin.

lev: this man has enough food on his plate to feed a small village. like deadass, he doesn’t slow his eating for a BREATH. he didn’t eat the whole day just so he could be extra hungry. like 3/4 of the spread is on his plate. also like cant fit his legs under the table, so he has to eat with his chair super far away. of course this man is going to be dropping food on the floor. literally has a hole in his chin because the gravy keeps dripping out whenever he speaks.

yaku: brings champagne because it’s “an exciting night”. lowkey freaks people out with how quickly he can down a bottle. has a small amount of chicken and turkey, LARGE amount of potatos, but then as many slices of pie as he can. like legit the pieces stack up on his plate. he scolds lev for making a mess, but literally litters crumbs all over the table.

FUKURODANI

bokuto: thinks that lev and him are participating in an eating contest, even tho lev has no idea what’s going on. of course this man brought his own liquor. he knows it’s time to party. legit as soon as he’s finished eating he’s busting open the bottle. towards the end of the night he’s actually dancing on the table, narrowly missing the forks and knives. daichi, suga and kita try their very best to control him, but he’s in his element. legit was throwing it back to kuroo singing “uptown girl”.

akaashi: also brought champagne but drinks it in a fancy glass. legit with the pinky up like royalty. comes in the cutest little fall knit sweater. does NOT participate in kareoke but hums along to the songs he knows. quietly makes bets with kenma on who is going to win, and he gets a couple of victories off of goshiki. also offers to do the dishes, but unlike tadashi, he doesn’t get another slice of pie because yaku ate it all. also brings daichi a card signed by him and bokuto. he’s very thankful. (sweet bb)

SHIRITORIZAWA

ushiwaka: there is no way this man isn’t excited. tbh he didn’t even think he’d get invited, and he actually ALMOST smiled when daichi offered. mans shows up in a turtleneck. TURTLENECK. legit wearing a rolex. why does he have drip? he’s got drip. for a big dude he doesn’t eat very much. threatens atsumu with his life if he ever DARES to shake salt in his champagne again. cracks a plate from gripping it too hard while waiting in line for the dessert. he’s excited, okay?

tendou: wears something weird. like a headbands with a candelabra on it or a giant turkey broach. brings a whole jug of orange juice for himself, and you bet that he finishes it within the first fifteen minutes. honestly, he probably dips his cabbage roll into the drink. also starts a conga line around the table while goshiki is singing. semi dares him to taste some of daichi’s dish soap, and of course he does it.

goshiki: NEVER HAS ANYONE EVER SEEN THIS MAN SO EXCITED. practically bouncing off the walls. eats way too fast. slips in the kitchen trying to get to the sink because he started choking on a green bean. becomes mesmerized by saeko and insists that he’s going to become the world’s best kareoke singer. picks every song about love. okay sam smith. tries to get suna to participate but receives a look that could kill. gets scared after that, but it motivates him to sing even better.

semi: practically skips the meal and goes straight for dessert. gets a harsh scolding from daichi but he doesn’t care. “accidentally” brings up the fact that ushiwaka cuts his food weirdly because he’s left handed. the whole table goes silent. semi passes away.

INARIZAKI

atsumu: literally just went to cause trouble. was he even invited? nobody knows. osamu was, but him? well. gets drunk within the first hour. tricks hinata into trying a bunch of kita’s disgusting ginger beers. constantly kicks samu under the table. throws a shoe across the room when daichi doesn’t let him have another drink. he’s loud. VERY loud. swears far too much and violently compliments daichi on the food. “this food is so fuckin good like hella delicious, i fuckin love thanksgiving! this is the shit!!”, “atsumu your brother made all the food”, “what”

osamu: just there for the food. literally made 3/4 of the dishes, including the turkey. makes fun of daichi for being the host and literally not making any of the food. “that’s embarrassing”, but really he offered to do it waaaaay before. constantly tells atsumu he has food in his teeth. over-salts suna’s turkey just because he feels like it. he’s the dude that encourages makki to drink the cranberry sauce. offers to help vacuum the floor clean of noya’s mess, but daichi is SO done with atsumu that samu just leaves early, dragging his brother with him.

suna: catches tendou drinking the dish soap. he’s not surprised. doesn’t say anything, just nods and walks away. legit doesn’t say anything to anyone tho. like mans shows up, eats and dips. has a one two conversation with ukai about court shoes, and then he’s gone. texts daichi later and thanks him, which is extremely shocking but daichi thinks it’s really nice.

kita: hates gatherings. i know this man just despises the loud and rowdy behaviour. puts mad dog in a headlock when the dude tries to fight kageyama over the turkey skin. eats and leaves zero mess. dabs at the corners of his mouth with napkin. washes his hands before and after everything. i just KNOW he’s polite too, but really gives it to semi when he mentions ushiwaka’s left handed eating. other:

OTHERS

aone: dresses cute. gets complimented by hinata and cant stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. like lev, he eats enough to feed a small town but makes sure everyone else goes before him at dessert time. tells yachi that he loves the donuts.

terushima: definitely wasn’t invited but heard through the grapevine. shows up with one plate of cookies and a violent growling stomach. immediately takes to the kareoke, even before dinner is over. randomly bursts into song halfway through his second plate of green bean casserole. thinks that singing louder = singing better.

sakusa: clearly doesn’t want to be there. brings his own food and his own drink, but doesn’t hesitate to down a bottle of noya’s cider. complains about how close hinata is sitting is sitting to him, and then pulls out a ruler for emphasis. “whoa! where did that come from??” “get away from me.”

[unsettlingconclusions]

Conversation over pizza

Pairing: Ayna Seth x F!MC (Kennedy) Genre: Fluff Rating: T Word Count: 3k+ Notes: I got inspired by @samanthadalton and @iamsimpforpoppy talking about pizza and food one day. I know this might not be a pairing of your particular interest, but I tagged you to show my appreciation for the inspiration (if you’d like me to remove it, please just let me know!). Story is not reviewed because if I stop to review I’d never post anything. Enjoy.

“So, I decided what we can do as your introduction to fine cuisine. Pizza!”

The sound of Ayna’s excitement came all the way from the kitchen to find Kennedy comfortably nestled against the cushions in Ayna’s couch. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and for once Ayna wasn’t swamped in deadlines or planning for classes, so they had been spending the past few hours curled up cuddling and watching cheesy romcoms. It was the perfect setting for peace and relaxation, and Kennedy would have voted to glue herself to the couch and to her girlfriend had it not been for the sound of grumbling stomachs. They were only human, afterall, and humans do need to eat.

“Pizza? Ayna, thank you for believing in me, but there’s no way I can get making pizza from scratch right.” Kennedy moved to the kitchen counter, voice a little less enthusiastic than her girlfriend’s.

But Ayna wasn’t to be deterred. “This one you can,” she replied, showcasing a package of frosted premade pizza dough. “Making it from scratch can be a challenge, I’ll admit. That’s why we’re gonna skip the make your own dough step.”

“But then it won’t be ‘fine cuisine’. It will just be like making a sandwich.”

“Ok, one, don’t talk like you even make sandwiches. And two, try to have some faith in me. Let’s make our own fresh tomato sauce. It makes a world of difference.”

It was a few weeks back when Ayna promised to teach Kennedy how to cook, starting with something easy, of course. This deal was brought by after a nice surprise romantic dinner Ayna had prepared for them in celebration of going public and finally being free to properly date.

“I thought you didn’t cook.”

“Usually I don’t, but I can make an exception if I feel the circumstances are special enough.”

“No, I mean, you said sometimes coffee is all you have.”

Ayna chuckles lightheartedly. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t cook, it means I unfortunately don’t have much time for it.”

“So, does that mean I’m special?” Kennedy can't help the fluttering of her heart and the wide grin from reaching her face at the thought of Ayna dedicating so much to their date.

“You’re the most special of circumstances," resting her hands on Kennedy's shoulders, Ayna gently coaxes the younger woman towards the dinner table. "Now come, before the food gets cold. I hope you enjoy it.”

Kennedy was surprised by how rich and flavorful it all tasted, and as the thick and sweet aroma filling the air lured her into a deep sense of comfort, she was amazed to keep discovering all these layers to her girlfriend.

She learned that cooking was soothing for Ayna, as it reminded the woman of her daadi, who used to say there could be no warmth of heart with an empty stomach. Kennedy was wooed through and through that night, and if cooking was an activity Ayna enjoyed, she wanted to be able to enjoy it with her. But the truth was she couldn't cook if her life dependend on it, so by the end of the night she made Ayna agree to teach her something someday.

"Why pizza? I thought we were going for something Indian."

"You're the one who said you wanted to start easy. Let's hold on the spices for now."

"Fine, I'll trust you. Teach me like I'm one of your French girls." Kennedy grinned, doing as close to a Kate Winslet impersonation as she managed.

"Preferably not naked, though," Ayna teased as she approached Kennedy with an apron, motioning for Kennedy to pass her head through it. "Tomato sauce sometimes gets a little explosive and I don't want you to get burned", she continued as she circled around Kennedy to fasten the straps behind her back.

As expected, Ayna was no less of a teacher in the kitchen than she was in the classroom. She calmly explained everything they were doing and why, from why they needed to boil water to peel off and seed the tomatoes, to how to properly cut them and remove their stem and core to make the process easier.

“We’ll just cook them for little while so the skin comes off easier.”

Once the tomatoes had been set in the boiling water, they moved onto all the other steps. "No respectable sauce lacks onion," Ayna explained, "but chopping them can be tricky. If you get too uncomfortable, tell me and I can do it by myself."

"No way, I'm having the full experience." Kennedy replied, although her eyes did make her almost regret her choice.

When the tomatoes cooked to the right point and they shocked them in iced water, Kennedy was almost amazed by how easily the skin came off.

“Nice trick,” she remarked, as she quickly took care of her task.

“Yeah it is. And it works with potatoes too.”

“You mean I don’t have to spend an hour peeling potatoes?”

“You mean you have peeled potatoes before?” Ayna raised her eyebrows in genuine curiosity.

“Mom tried taking cooking classes once and got me into it too. It didn’t go very well,” Kennedy grinned sheepishly.

“And how is it going now?”

“A lot better. It turns out I just had the wrong teacher,” this time Kennedy offered Ayna a wink and a huge smile, being then rewarded with a peck on the lips.

“Here, let’s sievel the seeds and dice them.”

When it came to dicing the tomatoes, Kennedy felt like she finally could use a more hands-on approach to compensate the fact she was losing some precious cuddling time, so she made sure Ayna would notice she was doing it the wrong way.

“You’re cutting them too big.”

"Oh no, silly me. Can you come over here and show me how to do it? I might do it better if you guide my hand,” Kennedy stated, feigning as much innocence as she could.

"You’re just baiting me."

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

Ayna came closer from behind and wrapped her arms around Kennedy, resting her hands atop the younger woman’s, guiding her movements gently. Kennedy took advantage of the moment as she could, leaning back and sinking further into Ayna’s embrace. She would definitely sign up for more cooking sessions if it involved this kind of teaching.

After many demonstrations more than it was actually necessary, Ayna rested her hands on Kennedy’s waist and moved her head to the side so her lips could softly brush against Kennedy’s ear, “Do you think you can get it right now?” She whispered.

“Y-yeah, I think,” Kennedy stuttered, tilting her head to the side to expose more of her neck.

Ayna nuzzled her nose into Kennedy’s neck for a few seconds before saying  “Good, let’s finish this.”

“Buzzkill.”

“Try hungry.”

With the ingredients now all set to go, they moved the chopped onions to a pot and let them fry for a little while. As Kennedy stirs the pot to keep the onions from burning, the sound of them sizzling mixed with its heavenly smell set such a mood of domesticity, Kennedy felt a weird sense of nostalgia for something she never really had.

“Hey, thank you for teaching me. This feels nice.”

“Of course,” Ayna smiled broadly, brushing a loose lock of Kennedy’s hair behind her ear fondly, because the truth was there was little Kennedy could ask of her that she wouldn’t give. “Here comes the tomatoes.”

A few minutes of simmering later and the sauce was ready and good to go, its bright red color contrasting with the paleness of the dough.

With Ayna’s guidance, Kennedy assembled the pizza with their homemade sauce, lots of cheese (the true secret was to use good cheese, Ayna had said) and fresh basil leaves for extra flavor, and they set it to the oven. All they had to do now was wait.

“Have you thought about what you’re gonna do now?” Ayna asked as she setted up the oven timer.

“Hmm, wait for it to bake so we can eat?”  

“I mean about Vancross. You came to help your mom with the Summit, didn’t you? To make allies?” She clarified, moving to help Kennedy out of her apron and taking her own off as well.

“Not just that. I came to study really.”

Once both were free of their aprons, Ayna started going about the kitchen, storing back everything they haven’t used. “Didn’t you tell me once you weren’t sure if going into politics was really what you wanted?”

“You remember that?” Kennedy asked surprised, the memory kind of distant. It was the first time they talked outside of the classroom.

“I remember everything about you.”

“Sappy.” It really was and Kennedy wouldn’t not remark on it, but on the inside she was very much melting. Ayna only smiled in return and raised her eyebrows, challenging Kennedy to not deviate from the subject. "But you're right. I came mostly because she wanted me to."

"Well, you seemed to thrive here, so I’m just curious as to how you feel about continuing your studies."

"I haven’t thought about it yet." Kennedy replied honestly, now sitting on a high stool by the kitchen counter, eyes fixed on Ayna, watching her move around.

"I think it suits you."

"You see me as a politician?"

"Not just in the sense you’re thinking. There’s a lot to this world that doesn’t involve you actually being a candidate and running for office." With a bottle of wine in each hand, Ayna showed both to Kennedy at the same time. "Red or white?"

"Hmm, white." To Kennedy's answer, Ayna just nodded and went for a corckscrew to open it.

"You know, I’ve been listening for so long how I should follow in my mom's footsteps that I guess I never really contemplated anything else."

"You do have a knack for making people feel at ease, and I’ve seen you do great at solving issues and leaving everyone involved satisfied. And you did great at avoiding conflict too." Ayna said as she approached with two glasses of wine, offering one to Kennedy. "Watching your debate was nice, it felt like you were in your element."

Kennedy took the offered glass and spent  a few seconds twirling the wine around it before sipping. "Yeah, I thought I’d be going through a minefield with that assignment, but working with Blaine was surprisingly easy and not that conflituous,” she said, reaching for and pulling Ayna closer to her, scooting backwards and giving Ayna more space to settle in the space between her legs.

“Hmpf, I’d rather not think of how exactly you avoided conflict with him.” Ayna retorted, gulping down a very big sip of her own glass of wine.

"What? You don’t like picturing me charming Blaine off?"

"Uh, no?" Ayna moved away swiftly, her demeanor challenging, as if saying “did you really just ask me that?”

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Is that why you love pushing my buttons?” Ayna asked narrowing her eyes.

“I mean, it can get pretty intense sometimes. Jealous you is hot,” Kennedy replied teasingly.

“So you really do just do it to get a rise out of me.” Annoyed, Ayna took a step back and started to fully distance herself from Kennedy’s reach.

“Hey, I’m sorry, ok?” Kennedy hurried to apologize, realizing she missed the mark on this one. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she added, drawing Ayna back to her. To her relief, Ayna offered no resistance, and Kennedy took advantage of it wrapping her into her arms, guiding Ayna’s head to rest on her shoulder. “It was dumb of me, I’m sorry.”

“No, I am sorry. I’m not usually jealous like this, I just— oof,” Ayna shaked her head, sighing dramatically before settling back into the comfort of her girlfriend’s arms, “I’m not used to this feeling.”

“If it makes you feel better, I promise when we were working on that debate, we were really just working on the debate.”

“Really?” Ayna lifted her head up to look at Kennedy, her own eyes holding such a look of childlike hope Kennedy just found it damn adorable.

“Yes, I swear. By then, I was already completely charmed off by a certain TA. Getting you out of my head was no easy task.”

Ayna flashed a bright smile, cheeks flushing slightly as she lowered her gaze, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“See? You can’t smile like that and expect me to not think about that all day.” Kennedy exclaimed, gently lifting Ayna’s head back again  and leaning in for a kiss.

It was supposed to be a quick reaffirming kiss only, but Kennedy decided she had spent far too long of today already not kissing her girlfriend, so she jumped off the stool to be able do it properly. She placed one hand on Ayna’s lower back and the other at the back of her head, entangling her fingers into Ayna’s locks and bringing their bodies as close as possible.

“We’re digressing,” Ayna grinned through the kiss.

“I like this subject better.” Kennedy replied quickly, just as quickly diving in for another kiss, only to be met with a smirking and uncooperative Ayna. “Nice try, but I’m not about to let our pizza burn. And I know where this will lead us."

“Would that be so bad?”

“It would if we end up setting the apartment on fire.”

Kennedy was ready to retort, or whine, to be more specific, when the oven timer set off.  “Saved by the bell.”

To follow on the theme of having the full experience, Kennedy was the one to take the pizza out, with Ayna hovering around her fearful she would burn herself.

“Relax, I got this. Go sit by the table and let me pamper you for a little bit.”

Ayna complied, albeit reluctantly, and Kennedy did the best she could cutting and serving the pizza (it shouldn’t be that difficult, right?). The looks and smell of it were incredibly promising of a good meal. The bright yellow mixed with the few golden spots of over baked cheese coupled with the contrast given by the green leaves against the red sauce certainly provided a sight for hungry eyes, and the heavenly smell of any fresh off the oven pizza certainly didn’t hurt either.

“Whoa, this turned out to be really good,” Kennedy exclaimed in between bites, munching excitedly and occasionaly closing her eyes to further appreciate it, letting out satisfied little grunts. She would never have guessed pre made frozen dough could actually turn into a perfect crunchy crust.

With a hint of amusement at Kennedy's eagerness over pizza, Ayna teased, “You sound surprised."

“Well, yeah, it had me involved."

“Hey, don’t ditch your sous chef.” Ayna said, feigning indignation. Kennedy bends over in Ayna's direction, placing a quick chaste kiss on her cheek. "You're a really great cook. Thank you for this."

The rest of the dinner went by much in the same manner. Kennedy was reveling in the fact her audience wouldn't berate her for not being the image of the prim and proper lady, and at some point she may even have indulged in foregoing the silverware and going straight for the kill with her hands. Truth be told, Ayna was delighted by the sight, and vowed to always make sure Kennedy could be whoever she wanted to be with her.

Once they were belly filled and satisfied, they moved back to the living room, glasses of wine in hand, a recently new opened bottle resting on the coffee table. The reality of it was that none wished for their night to end just yet, and they talked about as many meaningless and trivial subjects as they could think of, conversation flowing freely. But by the time their second bottle was nearly done with, Kennedy noticed Ayna was getting more and more quiet, almost as if lost in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She inquired softly, nudging Ayna lightly, trying to prompt the woman to share what had her suddenly silent.

"I was just thinking about what we were talking earlier."

"We talked about many things," Kennedy replied, leaving both their glasses on the coffee table and moving back to the couch. She sprawled herself on the lenght of it, resting her head on Ayna's lap. "What has gotten you so pensive?"

"You", Ayna stated matter of factly, adjusting herself so Kennedy could fit in better. She brought both her hands to Kennedy's hair, caressing it tenderly, before continuing. “And your mom. You don’t have to antagonize her to follow your own path but you don’t need to follow in her footsteps either."

Kennedy remained silent. She didn't know exactly what to answer to that, for one, and she was sure Ayna would have more to say. She limited herself to closing her eyes, enjoying the soothing feeling of Ayna's hands on her hair.

Taking Kennedy's silence as encouragement (or at least not discouragement), Ayna added, "Sure, you’ll always face some level of scrutiny and expectations, even when she steps down from office, but you can still make choices of your own. I’m sure your mom would be supportive and proud of you.”

“You sure about that? I doubt it sometimes.”

“She may come off as distant and nonchalant, but I think it’s just because she’s really busy. She really cares about you.”

“Yeah, I know this whole mess brought us closer, but sometimes I wonder why we drifted apart in the first place. I miss her.”

"You don’t have to miss her, she’s right there. And you don’t have to hinder your future because you decided to stick yourself with the rebel role. There’s nothing wrong with changing your mind."

“I love you so much, you know that?" Kennedy inquired, a glint of admiration in her eyes as she sits herself back up to place a kiss on Ayna's lips. She then moved to take one of Ayna's hand on hers, squeezing tightly. "You say the greatest things. And you’re right. I thought at some point about leaving just so I could go against her, but truth is I kind of enjoyed this year here”.

As Kennedy was about to drop Ayna's hand, the older woman just incresead her own hold, not letting Kennedy go. “Whatever you choose, I’m sure you’re gonna do great. You’re hard working and focused, you could make anything work. And I’ll be rooting for you every step of the way.”

“Even if it means I leave Vancross?” Kennedy tilted her head to the side, an expression of incredulity and maybe disbelief on her face.

“Why not? I want you to be happy. If you realize that’s what you want, go for it. I like believing we're strong enough to survive us not being so close together all the time.”

“I like believing that too.”

“In any case, I don't think I wish Vancross to be my endgame anymore.”

“No? But you love teaching?”

“I do. But Vancross is not the only educational institution in the world. I could finish my thesis here and leave, or I could leave and finish it somewhere else. Assuming I can have a nice recommendation from here that is.”

Kennedy's expression softened considerably after that, now holding as many emotions as the number of beats per minute her racing heart is doing. It was hope, delight, caring, love. "What are you really saying?"

"I'm saying I'll go wherever you will if you'll have me."

Goddamn. With that sentence Ayna managed to increase Kennedy’s heart rate by tenfold and the younger woman loved it. She realized she hasn’t been this excited and hopeful for the future in the longest while, and she was eager to show Ayna just how much. Smiling widely she wasted no time in straddling the TA’s lap, moving her hips against Ayna’s, just to make sure her point would come across perfectly. When she felt Ayna bringing her hands against her back, letting out a low, quiet moan, Kennedy leaned in.

"Can we go back to digressing now? There’s no more pizza left to burn."

[virgil-writes]

ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him. (Heisenberg x OC)

on AO3: chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven (ao3 only) | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen (ao3 only, smut)

chapter 12 - cabin fever

SFW, around 5K words.

chapter 13 - liebchen (ao3 only, smut)

The sheets underneath him were worn but comfortable, ancient-looking in design but well taken care of. The bed frame is barely there, mattress a well-placed lattice away from being on the floor. He can’t remember the last time he’s been on a bed, the last time he’d laid his body down at all, for any reason. His back complains every other second, not because of the comfort of the bedding, but because it had gone without for so long. A wonderfully comfortable blanket covers him up to the hips, the soft mattress almost makes him feel like he is floating. Fuck, he really missed having a proper bed now.

He inspects himself carefully, still not fully convinced this is not a fever-induced hallucination. His hand is where it should be, and so is his leg, and every other part of his body that he recalled having before. There are half a dozen new scars that he can count, all healed over perfectly like they’d opened years ago instead of hours, forming a map of stories he would rather not tell. He is shirtless but is wearing pants now, his trench coat and hat nowhere to be found. He pushes the blanket aside to find the damn woolen slippers waiting for him on a woven rug. It doesn’t take him long to realize where he is, but nothing resembles her, no personal belongings on the nightstand, no desk or mirror or even a dresser. It looked as if the room was rarely visited, kept clean but empty, and he wondered if sleep was a foreign concept to her, too.

Hesitant, tentative movements take him down the ladder and into the living room, and he expects to find her hard at work at something or another, humming a tune while she cooks, petting the goat and telling it asinine, cutesy things in a soft voice. But the house is silent and she is nowhere to be found, the dog sits in front of the closed front door and watches his every move. It is not aggressive but watchful, like it had been given the task of keeping an eye on the ailing man and alerting his owner in case anything was amiss.

“I’m fine, fleabag.” He laughs at the dog and gets a huff in response, an acknowledgment, and the shepherd moves from its post at the door to give him passage if he so desires. Heisenberg gives it a well deserved pat on the head as it passes by, tail wagging hesitantly as it tried to make friends with him. He is glad to be alone - if anyone ever used this against him, he would deny it.

A plate awaits him at the dinner table, and despite his intentions of running out of there before she could see him again, breakfast is an offer he cannot bring himself to refuse. Bread and jam, a robust omelet served with sprinkles of cheese and herbs. He can almost see the aroma the coffee has left behind, and finds the pot on the side of the wood stove, cup and saucer set for him nearby.

He eats slowly and in silence, chews thoroughly before swallowing, as if he fears some abrupt movement would rip reality apart and throw him back into the pit of suffering he found himself in the night before. There is no blood, no pain; no sign of the madness he had come so close to drowning in. He is safe and comfortable, there is good food in his belly and a warm hearth to keep the cold at bay. His problems are far and cannot catch him, and maybe if he keeps stalling to finish breakfast he can stay in this bliss forever. The world is quiet outside, and so are his thoughts, for once in his life.

A shirt and sweater are neatly folded and arranged as to call attention on the couch, no doubt to replace his blood-stained, ragged trench coat. He feels naked without it, he muses as he pulls the moss-colored shirt over his head, and it feels awkward not to wear the hat and the glasses. It would be unpleasant if she were to catch him now, free of his usual regalia; he felt that she would see right through him, stare deep into his eyes and find out all he had worked so hard to hide.

He did not feel like Karl Heisenberg, Lord of the Village, powerful mutant capable of unspeakable acts of violence. He was… Karl, middle-aged immortal man who enjoyed tinkering, was a big fan of meat an potatoes and didn’t know what to do when he had time to waste in his hands. Karl, of German origin but Romanian by birth, come from a long line of miners and steel workers. People of few words and fewer luxuries, hardy of constitution and blunt to a fault. He had been content to be those things and nothing more, to carry on what the Heisenbergs had done for centuries, until life dumped him on his head and led him to where he is today.

But not today, because maybe just today he can forget, and let his gracious host distract him with her mystery and the delicate curves of her buttocks. Perhaps tomorrow he would go back to treating her like a tool he would use and discard, but today she would be none the wiser, and neither would he. The fresh air of the mountain and distance from the cramped confines of the factory would do him good, he decided, help reinvigorate his spirit and refresh his ideas, spark some inspiration. And if not, well, the food was excellent and she was easy on the eyes.

A pair of boots that didn’t belong to him were by the door, just the right size to fit him. He had walked all the way up barefoot, he remembers, but he would very much like to know how she seemed to have everything that he needed readily available. Was she clairvoyant alongside being a healer? Did she bleed money that she could buy information on him from the Duke and the apparel to go with it? He opened the door to find her outside, looking like the cat that ate the canary, a couple meters away from the gate that separated her plot of land from the heart of the forest. She had just emerged from amongst the trees, heavy coat over her shoulders and leather boots to keep the ice off her feet. Her hands were free, no basket for foraging or firewood in her arms. No sign of a knife or any other kind of weapon, but judging by the look on her face, he could swear she had just committed murder. Her eyes told him she would not speak of it.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” he began, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, at least trying to fish an explanation out of her. Instead she pretended to forget the suspicious circumstances and focused on him instead, her face lighting up at the sight of him up and about, like she didn’t expect to see him anytime soon. Had it been that bad?

“Good morning, my lord. Are you well?” Shame and madness aside, he thought, things were going swimmingly. “I hope the accommodations were to your liking.” Once again with the pleasantries, with the caring for what he thought of her hospitality. Did she get a kick out of being so kind? That was the most foolish thing he had ever heard. He tried to come up with a witty response that would catch her off guard, but the night had been long and there was too much tiredness swamping his mind, and all he got was honesty:

“Quite. Hadn’t slept in a bed in decades.” As if to validate his words, he stretched and grunted in approval, pains he did not even realize he’d had gone like magic.

“Well, it remains at your disposal,” was her response as she chuckled, wiping her hands on the embroidered apron before gesturing an invitation. There was dirt on her palms. “It may not be much, but it’ll give you a good night’s rest.” She motioned for him to follow, something he would grow accustomed to.

“You know,” he began, following her into the shed, accepting the shallow basket she handed him. “I bet it’d be even better if you were there with me.” She hummed in approval, a smile as devious as his on her face. The damn woman would always catch him off guard; Heisenberg was not used to being flirted with, words thrown about only half-seriously, only to make the villagers blush and Alcina mad. He had never followed up on any of it, because it was always meant to annoy, and the fact that she not only took him seriously but fired back pulled the rug right from under him. And boy did he like it.

They laughed but spoke no more of it, tension like static in the air, both fully aware the joke had more than a few nuggets of truth to it. A dozen different scenarios ran through his mind, on ways he could take her, mark her, ruin her. Inside the shed, behind the stables, propped on the porch railing. Standing, face pressed against the floor, legs tightly wrapped around his waist. She smirked as she passed by him, smirked like she could tell every image that went through his mind. Smirked like she knew he would not do any of it, that his flirting was just a front and he had never found the courage to take the plunge, not even once. Her wink was the cherry on the cake, the challenge that made his cheeks flush at just the right moment so that she wouldn’t see it.

The morning was spent tending to the animals and the garden, and she instructed him on how to feed the chickens and keep the tiny goat happy. Its name was Prince and it demanded to be treated like royalty, lest the puny humans faced his wrath and for now adorable headbutts. The thing followed him around the whole time, demanded his attention when he collected the eggs from the coop, when he let the horse out of the stable to let it stretch its legs. Only when the weather took a turn for the worse did it scurry off to hide in the pens with its mom, settling down on a nice and dry bundle of hay.

He was put in charge of firewood while she tended the garden. The innuendos were kept to a minimum, but the static never left, and he felt her eyes heavy on him as he brought the axe down, muscles flexing and veins showing on his forearms with the effort. Maybe he ought to do more housework around her, and she’d come around and do his bidding without hesitation.

When the wind blew away his hat, Heisenberg realized there would be no going back to the factory unless he hurried. The storm had been mounting for days now, but he had never been one to pay much attention to the tells of weather; he rarely left his hideout, and with the factory being mostly underground, he would be trapped inside for a few days at best. He had perhaps half an hour for a journey that would take him one or two under such bad weather, and he would have to be lucky for the bridge to hold if it got too bad. She wasted little time paying attention to his inner turmoil, and went about securing the animals instead, making sure they had food, water and a warm place to spend the night. Snow was falling fast by the time she was done, and she ushered him in when he’d stood there too long, snow coming up to his shins already. They brushed off as much as they could on the porch before heading inside, water dripping down their shoulders. There was a long pause as they both watched the storm come down through the living room window, a knowing silence that the day would be long, and the night longer, and neither would be leaving that cabin for at least the next day.

“Well, it seems the bed is yours for the night again, my lord,” were her words as she bolted the door, a hint of joy in her voice. He imagined it was a lonely existence, secluded in the mountains and feared by all, not part of any community and especially not theirs. She always seemed so happy to see him, to see another human whose first instinct wasn’t to attack her. He would pity her if he cared, if his existence wasn’t equally as lonesome, if he hadn’t fashioned it to be exactly what he wished. He’d never needed anyone yapping about everything and nothing in his ears, interrupting his work and diverting his attention from what really mattered. Alcina was insane to have taken in the girls, really; children sounded like an exhausting chore that never ended. He never understood why she always looked so content in spite of it all. His mother always told him one day he would understand, he would want to keep someone close, and then he would want someone else just like them to cherish and love, to teach and share the good and bad moments. He would turn a hundred soon and never quite felt like it; maybe in another hundred years?

His only answer was a lopsided smile, tired and sad, and he tried to brace for the barrage of questions and comments that were certain to come. She was trapped inside her living space with the stranger who emerged from the guts of the forest, come from a village rife with death, where he was sovereign save for Mother dearest. He was the favorite son and the most powerful, gifted with strength and wits and influence and power. Those he could not talk down he could easily buy out, and those he could not buy out he could easily destroy. He was a fabled recluse and rumors ran rampant of the work he’d conduct in his factory, of treasures he kept deep underground. It would be a long day, the first in forever that he would spend so close to another breathing, talking human, and he did not know what to expect aside from a lot of chit-chat and a mounting headache. Surely she would like to know all about him, now that he couldn’t run away from her. Surely she would pry into his motives, pepper in questions about his siblings and the village. A thousand smug answers he conjured in his mind, each snappier than the other, every retort a question thrown back at her. It was only fair, of course; she had thrown much at him, bits and pieces of improbabilities that he couldn’t put together, and if she intended on digging deep, he would do the same.

To his surprise, all she did was leave her boots behind next to him and proceed to ignore him, going about her daily life like he was of no consequence. He found himself stunned, rooted in front of the door with a puzzled expression on his face. She looked at him as if to say well, this is it, make yourself at home and enjoy the day, and once again the domesticity of it all broke him more than words could ever have. He felt weird as he reached for the papers he had brought with him the night before, tucked next to the myriad of books on her shelf. They remained silent when he took a seat at the table and pushed open the schematics to get a better look at them, the potted plant centerpiece serving as a paper weight so he could work properly.

First, she dusted the shelves, reorganized her herb cabinet and found a place for his hat. The curtains were drawn and she took a peek outside, checking on the pens and the stable to make sure the animals would have a comfortable enough day. Then she bound off to a corner of the living room, producing a basket with threads and fabric, yarn and needles that she brought over to the couch. She sat cross-legged, close to the fire, and only spared him a brief glance before tending to her needlework. He felt weird as he reached for the papers he had brought with him the night before, tucked next to the myriad of books on her shelf. They remained silent when he took a seat at the table and pushed open the schematics to get a better look at them, the potted plant centerpiece serving as a paper weight so he could work properly. The first few minutes were nerve-racking, his paranoia telling him he would look away and find her peering curiously over his shoulder, trying to steal away his secrets to use against him as leverage. He read the same words again and again only to realize he hadn’t understood them, eyes turning to her every minute to make sure she still hadn’t moved. She caught him eventually, eyebrow raised in his direction as she tried to make sense of the situation, mouth turning into an “oh” as she jumped off the couch and stood on the tips of her toes to reach the very top of the bookshelf. A minute later and she had brought him a candle and holder, a half-empty box of matches in her other hand. She stood at the other end of the table and pushed it in his direction, still not curious regarding his work, but figuring that, even in daylight, the cabin was dark and he likely was not used to doing things by candlelight. It took him a moment to process and bring the light closer, shocked as he was to see that she intended to leave him to his own devices but cared about his comfort.

The hours were a blur then, when he convinced himself she would not surprise him, and his suspicions were correct; a change of environment had done wonders for his creativity, solutions jumping at him paper after paper, a multitude of new projects and ideas for him to try once he was back at the factory. He can’t remember the last time he had been so productive, the last time he had folded everything in and told himself he was done for the day, because he had done more than enough. She had brought him tea and bread at some point and he had eaten absentmindedly, crumbs and drops of jam staining the papers, but he could not bring himself to care. After tea she had brought him coffee, and then a jug of water, and while he felt a bit like a caged animal being fed periodically, it did wonders to keep his work flowing.

Night had already fallen when he finally took a break, got up to stretch his legs and look around to see just what she had been doing this whole time. Her crafts basket was back in its place, a sock taking shape on the needles. A book abandoned where she was sitting instead, the little witch nowhere near it. Instead she was busy preparing dinner, swaying her hips to a tune but quiet as a mouse, like she was going out of her way to give him peace and quiet. He appreciated it, try as he might to deny it, how she cared without meddling, made herself present but not intruding.

Maybe he should hire her to be his assistant, help him organize the half-done office he had begun building on the upper floors of the factory. She certainly would be great at helping him keep his affairs in order - and by that he meant she would keep him fed, mostly, the one thing he kept forgetting to do and that always set him back. He could provide her with something better than this, surely, her very own quarters with modern wonders such as electricity and proper plumbing, a bathroom of her own, maybe even a fridge. Had she ever seen a fridge before? He imagined she would decorate the place with all manner of silly things that would only serve to gather dust, knickknacks and wreaths and woven things, and that it would smell of flowers and fresh-baked bread. Her responsibilities would include housekeeping and Heisenkeeping - organizing his papers so he wouldn’t lose them, keeping track of all of the family meetings he had to attend, dealing with the Duke for supplies so he wouldn’t have to. He’d reward her handsomely, give her days off, be a good employer unlike his parents had been. Not a bad plan, if he did say so himself.

He had only forgotten to factor in that she was, still, a powerful, self-described blood witch. He had been entertaining himself with the thoughts of having her around as he watched her prepare dinner; she’d gone hunting in the morning, he realized, two hares hanging upside down from an iron ring. She took one down to place it at the cutting board, its insides clean but pelt still intact. He had no doubt she would be skilled at skinning it; when one lives as long as she has with no contact with the outside world, such skills are necessary for survival. What he did not expect was the way she’d go about it: a firm hand grabbed a handful of fur, gave it a gentle twist and pulled, effortlessly, the entire thing coming off in her hand, no cuts and no tears, neck and head and all. He could see the knife from where he was sitting, placed blade down into the ceramic jug.

Heisenberg bent forward to see better when she did it the second time around, and it was as unexplainable and horrifying as the first. Gross but humane, like she simply coaxed the skin to slide right off the flesh. If the thing had been alive, he imagined it would have been quite painful, a whole human suit in her hand and living flesh left behind. The thought almost makes him gag, a disgusted sound escaping his lips and making her realize she’s not alone. She slowly turns to face him with a sheepish smile, like a child caught red-handed. “Pretend you didn’t see that?” She offers, but he shakes his head no. Not in a million years he would forget the sheer brutality of it. He waits but she doesn’t explain it, goes back to making dinner like nothing had happened.

“Could you do that to something… Bigger, darling?” He approaches her slowly, like a predator carefully stalking its prey, though he feels far from a position of power at the moment. She nods her head yes. “Like, say, a good ole’ human?” He whispers in her ear, a shiver running down her spine at the sudden intrusion and hot breath against her skin, flirting his go-to attempt at getting back the reigns of any situation.

“Want me to test it on you, my lord?” She quips in the same whisper tone, and he is wise enough to back off for now.

“Think I’ll pass.” Before he can run back to his seat, she hands him the smaller, bone-bladed knife and pushes a bowl of potatoes towards him, the sudden motion startling him and eliciting a chuckle out of her. Looks like he’ll have to earn his keep. For a while they work shoulder to shoulder in peaceful silence, save for his grunts of frustration at not being able to peel a potato successfully. It’s been a long time. “You ought to show me what you can do one of these days. I’m awful curious.” She considers it for a second, head moving left and right, knife following the movement.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” and she doesn’t mean metal bending and knife juggling, he knows. He can’t think of a reason why she would want to see him, truly see him, monstrous appearance and all, but if that’s the price to pay, he’ll gladly do it. It would be good for his ego, too, that priceless look on her face as he shifts into the stuff of nightmares.

There are no more gruesome sneak peeks for the night and soon the stew is ready, he helps set the table and she finds a bottle of wine she’d stashed away for a rainy day. She explains over dinner that he was quite feverish when he arrived, and it’s a wonder he made it through the night. He truly was sturdy, no ifs or buts about it, she said in appreciation. There were cuts and bruises all over him, all shapes and sizes, like he’d fallen through glass. Did he have an accident at the factory? There was genuine concern in her voice, though they both knew that she knew better.

His curiosity gets the better of him and he experiments with a few questions, each answer leaving him further in the dark. How old was she? Somewhere around a hundred and thirty. She remembers being old enough to read around 1902, when she saw the date on a newspaper she fished out of the gutter, but beyond that time was either a blur or she’d been too young to remember. Where did she come from? Not a clue, but she’s been around: she’s seen Italian castles, been to centuries old British pubs. She’s seen the Brandenburg Gate and visited Chateau de Versailles. She’s bathed in the beautiful waters of the Greek coast, made a pilgrimage to the volcanic beaches of Iceland. She’s never made it past the ocean to the Americas or down to the warmer climates of Africa, but time has never been an issue, and she figures she’ll get to it eventually. He asks her why all the wandering, is someone after her? Her breath hitches and her eyes lower, shoulders slump, a deep breath before the replies. Something like that, and he understands maybe it’s best if he doesn’t push.

They returned to the topic of his feverish display once dinner was over, with her cautioning that he had been lucky this time around, lucky that she was home, lucky that he even made it across the bridge and found his way home. Home, her use of the word is deliberate and strokes something warm and fuzzy within him. Disgusting. There was the matter of the shard, he took a sit on the couch as she reached into a drawer to pull out a bundle of clean cloth, and he feigns confusion when she unwraps it to reveal a piece of metal shaped similar to an arrowhead. He recognized it, the shavings of a project he had worked on… Maybe a year ago? It’d been sticking out through his ribs when he arrived, she said, and it looked anything but recent; infection had taken around it, skin red and swollen. She could see that it was agonizingly painful - had he not noticed it at all?

“Ah, so that’s what it was.” He blurted without really meaning to, a humorless chuckle that left her confused. “I’d been feeling this weird poke in my ribs for the longest time - thought I’d broken something.” He shrugs and she nods, clearly aware of their peculiar situations, perhaps now beginning to comprehend just how many layers of fucked up he was made of. “You’re a miracle worker, doll.” His fingers instinctively trace over the spot where the shard had been, nothing there but a scar that had healed remarkably well. “How can I ever repay you?”

Money, gems, jewelry? She didn’t strike him as the materialistic kind. No, she was all about the meaningful gestures, the showing of kindness. There were a few ways he could think of showing his appreciation - slamming her body against the wall to press a hard kiss on her lips, a nice, firm tug on her hair as he nibbled on her neck. Or maybe something softer if she was so inclined, more romantic even, like a well-placed, resounding slap on her ass cheek. “I’ll be sure to think of something, my lord.” Was the answer she gave, though he was sure she meant something else entirely judging by the way she let her coat slide off to reveal her bare shoulders as she set about getting ready for bed. Her hands gathered more and more of her skirt until it’d reached the middle of her thighs, delicate lace adorning the band of her stockings, tiny suspenders disappearing from sight but serving to peak his curiosity. She undid the hooks that kept it in place, fingers threatening to roll the garment down agonizingly slow. Instead she turned to look at her enraptured audience, the pose propping her ass up and so close to his hands. He had thought it had all been an act, carefully orchestrated to put him on edge, but the gasp of surprise she let out told him otherwise. “I am so sorry, my lord.” She quickly let go of it all and stood up straight, a flush running across her face. “I am not used to having visitors.”

“You needn’t stop on account of little ole’ me, darling.” He is quick to say, rich laughter that filled the room with mischief. Heisenberg sprawls further onto the couch, legs parting like an invitation. Best seat in the house, in the whole village even. “I did enjoy it.”

When it was time to say goodnight, he kept his composure and even helped her move one of the pillows and blanket down the ladder. If his mother were alive she would chastise him for not being a gentleman, for not refusing vehemently to let her sleep on an uncomfortable couch instead of her own bed. But the day was over and so were the pleasantries, and he would have to take the time to cleanse her off his mind, ease himself back into his usual mindset. She was impossibly alluring, impossibly annoying, impossibly loving. There was no figuring her out and it seemed there would be no delving deeper in. Playtime was over and it was back to work tomorrow as soon as she storm had passed. He needed to shed away her kindness before it managed to ooze under his skin, but she had no intention of making it any easier on him.

“Here you go,” Heisenberg had no time to stand on ceremony, shoved the pillow in her direction and flashed her a smile to keep up appearances, mind wandering somewhere else, somewhere where he did not care about her. It was better this way. “Good night, sweetheart.”

Even though he tried, he never truly reached that fabled place where she was of no importance. Not that he would ever acknowledge it.

[darkblueboxs]

Shades of Sunset

Twenty years in the life of Andrew Minyard

Read here or on AO3 (check ao3 for content warnings)

*

Andrew is five years old, and he thinks orange is the most beautiful colour in the world.

It’s the colour of his favourite popsicle flavour, or what he’s sure would be his favourite popsicle flavour if Mrs Dunnard ever bought them popsicles. Instead, she buys the same tasteless frozen meals over and over again, oven fries or chicken nuggets or potato smileys. Andrew lets the smileys turn to mush as he fights the other foster kids for elbow room at the kitchen table, but he doesn’t smile back at the wobbly potato faces. He clears his plate all the same, because the kids who don’t get smacked.

He presses his face up against the glass in the freezer aisle and imagines the taste of sunset on his tongue.

Andrew is seven years old, and the upstairs neighbours have a ginger tabby cat. It winds around his ankles when he’s hiding in the backyard, a bright beacon amongst the dirt and scrub of the cracked earth, and Andrew can’t help but reach for it like a moth drawn in by candlelight. For a single, fragile moment, Andrew’s trembling fingers meet something warm and soft, softer than Andrew can ever remember feeling. Then the cat twists around and sinks its claws into Andrew’s arm.

Andrew clutches his forearm to his chest, watching as beads of red well up and glisten before dribbling down towards his fingertips. It’s a new kind of pain, stinging, sharper than the bruises he has grown accustomed to, but he doesn’t cry. Crying never made it stop. The next time the tabby comes near him, Andrew throws rocks until it bolts for cover with a hiss. He watches as it scrambles over the peeling fenceposts and out of sight, wishing he could follow it into the wilderness.

 Andrew is twelve years old, and when Cass sees him staring at the creamy-yellow wallpaper of what will soon be his own bedroom, she asks what his favourite colour is. Andrew tries to remember the last time someone asked, the last time someone cared, and for once his perfect memory draws an absolute blank.

“Orange,” he whispers, and Cass lights up. Together, they coat the walls with marigold paint, and when Andrew spills it down his front, Cass just laughs. His room is so bright that it almost glows, painting Cass in warm, saturated hues as they sit side-by-side, puzzling through Andrew’s homework until the rattle of keys in the front door alerts them to the rest of the household’s return. The sunbeam colours of day paint his world into a hazy mirage of safety, and for that Andrew suffers the blood-orange nights that follow. Soon, however, the light and dark bleed into each other like watercolour paints, and Andrew decides that if he cannot have one without the other, then it is safest to want nothing at all.

 Andrew is fourteen years old, and he is sick to death of orange. The juvie uniform is offensively orange, as though trying to burn the observer’s eyes out, as stark a warning as possible: approach with caution. Andrew pulls the starchy, cheap cotton over his head, and it feels as though he has worn nothing else all his life. He lets himself tumble into the faceless sea of uniform faces, not caring where the tides will take him.

 Andrew is eighteen years old, and he wishes he could be surprised when Dan pushes the fox fur-orange windbreaker into his arms, but under the ebb and flow of drug-induced mania there is truly no feeling at all. Of course the universe would continue to taunt him with too-bright uniforms that cling to him like wet sand, scratching at his lungs as he breathes around a sewn-up smile. Minyard, it says in white lettering, as though the neat stitching can tie him into this ludicrous new life with the power of a name that barely feels like his own. If their coach thinks that putting them all in one horrendous colour will magic them into a team, he has another thing coming. Uniform does not mean unity, and Andrew stands in the goal and watches distant sunburnt figures grapple and tumble across the court, stick loose in his hand. When the ball shoots past him, he doesn’t even flinch.

They can tell him what it means to wear these colours and stand on this court until the cows come home; Andrew doesn’t care. Nothing gets under his skin anymore.

 Andrew is nineteen years old, sitting in the plastic stadium seats and watching as their newest recruit races across the court. He’s a blur of orange and white, quicker than a fox and twice as sly, and Andrew doesn’t trust him an inch. He may have grown accustomed to passing his days engulfed in the campus colours that scream school pride from every street corner, but Neil makes the colour new all over again. Off the court, he hides himself in washed-out blues and greys, shrinking into his oversized hoodies as though hoping to be swallowed by them. On the court, however, there is no hiding, nor any inclination to. Neil stands on the court like he was born to rule it, throwing himself into the game with the kind of whole-hearted determination Andrew believed only Kevin was brain-dead enough to be capable of. Off the court, Neil treats the Foxes’ luminescent oranges like he would a target painted on his back. Here, he wears them like a shield.

He suits them.

Andrew doesn’t know what to make of their newest recruit, not yet. But he will.

 Andrew is twenty years old, and something has gotten under his skin. The pipe dream in the shape of a man stares at him across the Easthaven hospital waiting room through unmasked, ice-blue eyes. Back at the dorms, Andrew takes him up on the roof, peels back the plaster to see the fresh tattoo bruising his cheek. Not if it means losing you¸ he says, and Andrew resists the urge to throw him off the roof then and there. His hair is a single drop of colour against the grey sky above, deep auburn like campfire embers. Andrew didn’t think Neil could have been any more of a danger until he returned from the nest beaten within an inch of his life, the new colours streaking through his hair like a warning, threat, threat, threat.

Andrew looks at Neil, and puts a name to the burn of sensation flickering in his gut.

Andrew hates Neil, hates how softly he looks at him, hates the molten want that Neil pulls effortlessly through his veins. Above all, he hates the deep orange tint that now flits in and out of his periphery like the wings of a monarch butterfly as Neil buries himself into Andrew’s chest and fills his lungs with smoke. In the dead of night, Andrew imagines how soft Neil’s tousled curls would feel between his fingers, and wants, wants, wants for something he cannot let himself have. He remembers the sting of claws raking across his forearms all too well, knows where the path of wanting will take him if he isn’t careful.

Andrew hates orange, and hates Neil for making him feel anything about it at all. But he knows how to protect himself, knows how to keep himself back from the cliff-edge of feeling that nearly killed him once already. He won’t fall again.

 Andrew is twenty years old, and Neil’s lips taste like sunset.

 Andrew is twenty years old, and Andrew is falling. He laps the stadium once, twice, the dispersing rioters and flashing police cars blurring into a black jumble of sound and movement, but it doesn’t matter, none of it matters, because he can’t find Neil, and he had forgotten, forgotten how it felt to fall, to fear, was this fear, was this-

He almost misses the racquet lying battered and forgotten amidst empty soda cans and discarded ticket stubs. He picks it up as though he’s never seen one before, and even though the team colours have been scuffed and dirtied in the fight, it’s still the unmistakable Fox orange peeling between his fingers, white strings torn and unravelling. He picks up Neil’s bag, thumbs through his phone, and parts of him unravel too.

Andrew finds his way back to the team bus, takes one look at Kevin’s expression – broken, wild, and filled with a grief that couldn’t be explained by anything other than-

Andrew sees red.

 Andrew is twenty years old, and for the last twelve hours his world has been nothing but shades of grey shot through by occasional bursts of uncontrollable wildfire-red. Dragging Wymack along behind him like a ball and chain, he sees the men standing outside the motel room, and the final thread of his control pulls and snaps as he shoulders his way inside, not caring if he breaks a wrist in his desperation, and then-

White plaster. Blue eyes. Auburn curls.

Safe.

 Andrew is twenty-three years old, and his vision is swamped in sparkling bursts of confetti, a glittering shower of oranges and whites that tumble from the rafters like autumn leaves. The crowd is on their feet and screaming enough to shake the court’s foundations as the final score to end the season glows overhead. Neil collapses at the sound of the buzzer, striped orange bandana holding his auburn curls back from his face. They glow like embers in the stadium lights, which backlight his head like a halo. He turns to Andrew and smiles.

Andrew decides that orange isn’t so bad after all.

 Andrew is twenty-five years old, against all odds. His team’s uniform is green. Their team, as soon as Neil’s transfer paperwork goes through. Andrew won’t miss orange, much, but he will miss seeing Neil in it.

Or perhaps not. A blur of colour glides past his periphery, and Andrew pushes himself up in bed to watch as Neil pulls a jumper Andrew has never seen before over his head. He catches Andrew looking, and his lips quirk upwards.

“You like it?”

“No.” It’s something chunky and hand-knitted, perhaps a gift from one of the Foxes, and it hangs so long on Neil that the hems of his boxers barely peak past the bottom. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Neil glances down at his bare legs, then back up, smirking. “I don’t know, am I?” He rolls back onto the bed, which strikes Andrew as counterproductive to getting dressed, but he has no interest in complaining when Neil climbs into his lap, thighs pressing into him on either side. Andrew runs a hand along Neil’s leg against the grain of his hair, slow, pensive. His fingers soon collide with soft amber wool. Neil tilts his head teasingly to one side. “I thought orange was your favourite colour.”

Andrew tangles his fingers in the collar and uses it to tug Neil in against him. “I hate it,” he murmurs into Neil’s ear, and follows it with a brief press of his lips to the one point below Neil’s earlobe that always makes him shudder.

“Like you hate me?”

“Yes,” Andrew says.

When Neil’s lips meet his, they taste like sunset.

Andrew is twenty-five years old, and he thinks orange is the most beautiful colour in the world.

*

Thanks for reading!

[foryourinformationmd]

Advice from a Professional Doctor, Asher Nitin.

Ignore all the portrayals of life in medical school by your pre-med lecturers. If they begin a med school narrative with, “My nephew is a doctor and he told me…,” instantly disregard it. His nephew did not tell him that. He told him much more. Those are merely the parts he wants to remember. If it isn’t a recently-graduated doctor telling you what life in med school is like, it isn’t going to be anything like what they will tell you. So what is it like instead? Grey’s anatomy? House, M.D.?

Neither. Med school is more like Scrubs and The Knick than it is like Grey’s Anatomy and House, M.D. Unlike Grey’s Anatomy, you and your fellow medical students will not be that good looking. You will not sleep with each other as much. You will not cry over your patients (you’ll have a hard time remembering their full name). And you will not monkey around with barely-tested experimental procedures. Ever. If you do, it’ll probably be the last thing you do because good-bye medical school. Unlike House, all medicine will be diagnostic. Your professors will only appear to be brilliant (it’s really just decades of specialized knowledge and experience; with their subject and with your type). Diagnosis will be algorithmic, and even that algorithm won’t be your own. But you will still get a kick out of it. Like Scrubs and The Knick, your medical school will be your life. You will eat, sleep and dream medicine. Your entire social circle will consist of your colleagues. Your family will be the one stable point in your life. You’ll date your colleagues.

Speaking of dating, your sexy does not go up when you become a doctor. I mean this practically. Theoretically, I’m told doctors are hot. I can see why. They undeniably have inherent value: social standing, (the promise of) money, proof of intelligence (actually, no) and actual power over life (more than you know). But practically speaking (especially if you’re male) your dating life will not get better as a medical student. That is because the demands of medical school will swamp you. You will come home tired. Your pool of prospective partners will mostly consist of your medical colleagues. So while your newfound status as a doctor might have value in non-medical circles, it will mean nothing because you will almost never frequent those circles. But within the circle you’re in, your status as a medical student means nothing, because so what? Everyone is one too. “But Asher!” you say, frantically gesturing at me to pause, “I’ll be smart and date outside of medical school.” No, dummy. You’ll be a dummy if you do that because…

The more friends you have outside of med school the harder it is to excel. Med school is about an ethos. You’re not just part of a course. You’re part of a community. This is now your primary identity. All your self worth are now belong with us, bi*ch. There is this neurological phenomenon seen in people trying to study. When you’re focused on something, if you break off and engage with something unrelated, your brain takes up to twenty minutes to fully refocus on the original task once you return to it. In life as well, broadly speaking, I’ve observed a similar phenomenon. I’ve known three students in med school whose circle of friends mostly lay outside of med school. One hung out with mostly dancers and choreographers. One was a socialite. One hung out with the sons of politicians. They all were (and still are as of now) the worst doctors I have ever seen. This is because they constantly take breaks from the ethos of medical life. They miss out on the rhythm of life in the world of medicine. So you should know that…

You will leave most of your old friends behind, and you won’t even mind. Of all the various professions, I’m told, physicians tend to default the most on school reunions. That is partly because they don’t have the time, but also because they don’t care. It isn’t that we become arrogant or unsocial. It is that the act of medical education deeply changes you. It makes you more functionally intelligent. It makes you less prone to fake drama. It makes you calmer in crisis. All these after-effects will permanently drive a wedge between you and many of the people you used to know. This is a surprising side-effect no one anticipates; least of all your elders. And that is an amusing paradox. They anticipate your becoming a doctor because they know medical school is elevation. They don’t realize the side effect of this elevation is you will now talk down to them.

Your most important subject in pre-med is physics. Look, pre-med isn’t really about information continuity. The organisms you will dissect in pre-med will be phylogenetically disconnected from med school. You dissect a plant stem, a plant root, an earthworm, a cockroach, a frog, and then… a human being? See? You won’t be seamlessly connecting domains of knowledge. Pre-med isn’t even about building a conceptual base. Many things you learn in pre-med biology will be repeated in so much greater detail in med school that your prior knowledge will only partially help. Pre-med is about picking up mental skills you will need. Let’s talk about those.

You need to learn to form a train of thought fast. The great thing about learning to solve problems in physics is that you learn to solve problems in general. You learn to quickly identify variables and constants. Sometimes there will be constants in the problem that would normally be variables in real life. You learn to work with those too. Physics allows you to become mentally agile with concepts. If you get fluid mechanics, you can handle the physiology of hypovolemic shock. If you get lever mechanisms (in different orders), you can handle applied anatomy in orthopedics. If you get optics, you can handle a lot of neurology and ophthalmology. In my experience, the students who have the hardest time in med school are the ones who didn’t learn to think on their feet within a fixed framework of time.

You hate memorizing? Actually, you don’t. It’s all about the context. Literally none of us salivated at the prospect of memorizing taxonomies. We hated it and struggled over it and were glad when we were done with it. That was because it was something we knew we would never use. In med school, you will do a lot of memorizing. But you will enjoy it (or at least you can, if you choose; I’m a huge nerd). Many doctors will tell you how easily drug classifications embed themselves in their brains. This is despite the fact that the latter are more complex than zoology taxonomy charts or botanical floral formulas. The difference is that your knowledge of drug classification will impact what you will say to your aunt when she confronts you over her persistent back pain over Christmas dinner (poor posture, it’s always poor posture; she sits like a potato). So you will memorize a lot. It won’t be anything like memorizing was before. Rest easy. You will find it easy to like it.

Your persona does not matter. Caring for people and being compassionate and wanting to cure disease are the least important things in medicine. You need to be able to meaningfully link vast amounts of information to come to a correct diagnosis as per established algorithms. You need to perform surgical procedures within a reasonable amount of time with a decent degree of success. All else is secondary. When most of your non-doctor relatives tell you that a doctor’s personality matters, they’re doing something called argument from ignorance. You see, the world of medicine is so big and so complex that most of it is technically incomprehensible to the general public. So they latch on to the few aspects of a doctor’s life they are mentally capable of understanding (and commenting upon; remember their first reaction to meeting someone with an education superior to theirs is to give them tips). So they will talk about a doctor’s personality because it is the only part they can presume to have some expertise on. Even that they do not. Don’t ever do stupid things like falling in love with your patients or building deep and personal relationships with your patients. You will never last in medicine. This is not because the emotional trauma of losing them will wreck you. This is because you will go bankrupt fighting lawsuits accusing you of patient preference. You will feel the pressure in the things non-doctors will say behind a good doctors back. “He’s so boring at parties, he can only talk work stuff.” If that is your destiny, so be it. Own it. They find you boring? So what? You were not put on this earth to entertain the illiterate at parties. You were sent here to be a lifesaver; not to have a personality that appeals to the lowest common denominator.

I’m telling you it does not matter. The practice of medicine is life on the edge of reality. All personalities are welcome because medical school is a personality in itself.

The materialists among us are taught the value of wisdom and the ascetics among us learn to knot a Double-Windsor.

The atheists among us will pray frantically and the religious among us will find no time for church on Sunday.

The loudmouthed learn to whisper in the NICU and the soft-spoken learn to yell, “Stat!” in the ER.

The type-A personalities among us learn to break the news of a patient’s passing to his relatives and the type-B personalities among us learn to argue medico-legal cases.

The clumsy among us learn to suture wounds and the nimble learn to administer CPR.

Materialists. Ascetics. Atheists. Theists. Loudmouthed. Soft-spoken. Type-A. Type-B. Clumsy. Nimble.

In medical school, we all meet in the middle.

PS: Photo not mine. Credits to the rightfully owner.