#and was initially so much more hostile but has come to accept her place in the world and made peace with other pokemon

[perenlop]

i remember when people were saying mewtwos inclusion in the genesect movie felt random and pandering to the gen 1 crowd that was uncommitted bc this wasnt even movie 1 mewtwo, and i dont think anyone says that now but wow i think they were wayyyy off the mark there lol. mewtwos the perfect choice for them that couldve existed at the time and she made for perfectly good xy teasing too

[redgoldsparks]

October Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Pageboy by Elliot Page

This has been on my to-read list ever since it came out, and I finally picked it up. This book is an honest, sometimes painfully honest, accounting of Elliot Page's life up until his decision to come out as trans. He grew up in Canada, the child of divorced parents, with a hostile step-mother, an emotionally manipulative father, and overworked mother who initially did not accept his queerness. He started acting in elementary school and found it a freeing creative outlet, even when he hated the overly-girly clothing the roles often forced him into. Like many people who start in the film industry very young, he was taken advantage of sexually by adults who should have kept him safe. These experiences are written about less graphically than the blistering gender dysphoria and numbing disassociation that followed Elliot from his teens into his twenties. He threw himself into movie projects and love affairs, running away from a secret that nearly ate him alive. I'm so grateful that was eventually able to come out, because it really sounds like staying in the closet might have killed him. This book is not written chronologically; chapters center on themes, projects, or relationships. I understand that choice while also wishing that more of then teen chapters had been placed earlier in the book- sometimes the way the book kept slipping backwards in time felt a time bit repetitive. But it also felt honest to the experience of someone who kept backsliding in his ability to be honest with himself, until hitting the rock bottom of mental health, when there was no other choice but to be true.

Woe: A Housecat's Story of Despair by Lucy Knisley

Given the square format, I thought this was going to be a picture book but when it arrived from the library it was a full color 200 page collection of all the instagram comics author Lucy Knisley ever drew about her much loved fluffy orange cat, Linney. These comics are deeply relatable for any cat owner. I'd read pretty much all of them online before but I enjoyed seeing them all again in this collection.

The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold read by Lloyd James

Cazaril was once the son of a noble family, entrusted with defending a strategically important castle during one of Chalion's many wars. Then the castle was sold to the enemy, and Caz was not ransomed, but instead forced to serve as a galley slave on an enemy ship. Finally free, he walked across two countries to reach a town where he worked in his youth, and enters the stronghold wearing clothes he took off a corpse. All he wants is a lowly position, maybe in the kitchen or the stables, where he can earn a bit of bread and sleep warm at night. Instead, he is given the position of tutor to the Royesse Iselle, half-sister of the current king of Chalion. He begins the work of teaching her multiple languages, history, geography, politics, and how to tell when a man is lying to her. All of these skills and more are needed when she and her brother, the heir to Chalion's thrown, are called to court. Cazaril is required to travel with them, even though he knows that the man who betrayed him serves there as the king's high chancellor. And worse yet, he discovers that the whole royal family is under a generations-long curse. This was my second read of this book, the first one being back in 2008 so I remembered almost nothing. It's a clever and well constructed fantasy, with the twists and turns I expect and love from a Lois McMaster Bujold novel. This time around, the age gap romance (between a 20 year old and a 35 year old) made me raise my eyebrows. It fits thematically into the story but also, why.

The Ribbon Skirt by Cameron Mukwa

This is a gentle queer comic for younger readers. Ten year old Anang decides they want to make a ribbon skirt to wear to an upcoming powwow. A ribbon skirt is a piece of celebratory clothing typically worn by Anishinaabe women, and Anang isn't entirely sure what their friends or community will think about them wearing one. But the spirit world encourages Anang. The lakes, the crows, turtles, waves, and trees participate in helping Anang gather all of the supplies they need, despite some light resistance from other characters in the story. Short and sweet, this is lovely introduction to two-spirit and nonbinary identities for a kid who hasn't heard of them yet, and an affirming story for a young person who already inhabits a gender-nonconforming space!

Tokyo These Days vol 2 by Taiyo Matsumoto

Shiozawa continues to attempt to build a collection of artists for a new manga magazine. He visits old friends, writers whose talent he's loved for years. Some of them have retired from the business. Some are busier than ever. Some love the direction their work has gone since Shiozawa last saw them; others believe their work has become soulless and commercial. I love how the authors are portrayed as unique, flawed humans with human histories. They have families, disabilities, insecurities, dreams. We meet Chosaku's ex-wife and daughter on a weekend visit. Hayashi continues to struggle with her main artist, Aoki, who struggles with insomnia and flees back to his hometown. Creating manga is depicted as half a calling, half an affliction.

Death At Morning House by Maureen Johnson, read by Katherine Littrell 

This is more of a 3.5 or 3.75 but rounded up because it was queer and out of my extreme affection for Maureen Johnson's murder mysteries. This one introduces a new character, Marlowe, who gets into a spot of trouble with some accidental arson while on a date with the girl of her dreams, and then runs away to an absurd summer job on one of the thousand islands on the St Lawrence River. Marlowe joins a group of five other teens who already all know each other to serve as a tour guide for Morning House, the mansion of a rich doctor and eugenicist who summered with his seven children on the island in the 1920s- that is, until two of them died there. And the island has seen another death, more recently. Marlowe didn't show up to solve crimes, but if she wants to make it home at the end of the summer, she'll have to. Similar in tone to the Truly Devious series, this book was a very easy and fun listen. I wish the eugenics thread had either been cut, or better developed, but Marlowe is a delightful character to follow and if this book gets a sequel I will definitely listen to it.

If You’ll Have Me by Eunnie 

This is an extremely sweet and delightfully illustrated sapphic romance, which only partly hinges on a misunderstanding as the main conflict. Momo is a shy college freshman, a rule follower, a hard worker who didn't date or party at all in high school. She runs into PG, seemingly mid-hookup with a friend of a friend who claimed to be too sick to come to class. After that first encounter, Momo seems to see PG everywhere, and each time with a different girl. Clearly, PG is a player and also in a completely different league than Momo. Except, when a cautious new friendship begins to develop between them, PG seems unfailing chivalrous and polite. Which is the real PG? And how much trouble will Momo get into if she lets her feelings become something more? I really enjoyed the bright color palette and confident line art.

Tokyo These Days vol 3 by Taiyo Matsumoto

I appreciated so deeply how this series represented artists wrestling with their creative practices. Some draw steadily for years, with a similar quality level of work. Others struggle with writers block, family tragedies, self esteem, rough deadlines, with falling out of love with their stories, or their editors, or the time commitment of being a full time author. This series also shows how a patient and support editor can absolutely made an artists career- or how the lack of one can destroy it. This is such a human slice-of-life story, and I liked its open but hopeful ending.

Gay the Pray Away written and read by Natalie Naudus 

Seventeen year old Valerie wishes she could pick up any book at the library without fear, wishes she could pick her own clothes, wishes she was allowed to hang out unsupervised with friends, watch movies, or just spend time on the internet. But her family is part of a very extreme Christian community which home schools their children, limits the media they are allowed to access, controls their movement, wardrobes, and social lives. Valerie is expected to join family Bible studies daily, volunteer at the Church, and marry a boy in the community shortly after her eighteenth birthday. She isn't excited about any of this- in fact, she spends much of her time daydreaming or bored nearly to tears- but what else can she do? Then she finds a queer book with a fairly nondescript cover at the library. And a new girl- a girl with short hair, a girl who wears jeans- joins the Church. Valerie is captivated. The new girl represents a window into freedom and Valerie wants as much of that freedom as she can hold. I have some critiques about how this book ended, but I'm also very aware that I am not part of its target audience. Hopefully this book will find its way into the hands of teens who need it.

Gender Studies by Ajuan Mance

A slim but insightful collection of memoir comics on the intersecting identities of being Black, queer, gender nonconforming, and a nerd. These stories are thought provoking, funny, and delightful well drawn.

Clever Girl: Jurassic Park by Hannah McGregor

McGregor turns the film Jurassic Park over in their hands, like a piece of amber, to examine it from all sides and finds a story packed with possibilities of liberatory, queer, and feminist readings. From thoughts on the monstrous feminine, reproductive control, missing mothers, and found family, this text weaves together a rich tapestry of threads. I completely understand now why this film (which I half-watched once at a distracting party, but now want to revisit) has becomes such an enduring classic. The ending note advocates for the building of networks of mutual aid and care during and after apocalypse, something I need more and more desperately in this damaged world.

House of Women by Sophie Goldstein 

Four women arrive on a jungle planet via spaceship with a mission to create a school and educate/ tame the indigenous species of beings there. Like most colonizers, they think they are doing something good by bringing the light of civilization into the supposed darkness of the wilderness. Like most colonizers, they completely fail to understand the people they have come in contact with the project ends in devastating violence. The art in this book is extremely elegant, with powerful black and white design and pattern work illustrating a believable alien world. If you've ever read The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell, this is story has some similarities in tone and theme but much shorter and more condensed, as necessitated by the comics format. It's not a hopeful or kind story, but I thought it was executed extremely well.

Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H. read by Ashraf Shirazi 

Lamya H weaves together memoir with stories from the Quran, introspection on prophets, myths, histories, and alternate readings, into a compelling whole. As a gender-nonconforming baby queer, Lamya struggled under the oppressive roles and limited options available to them in the Arab speaking country to which their parents moved for work in their childhood. But a lightning strike of realization in a Quran study class- that Maryam could also be read as a depressed lesbian- fed Lamya's imagination with new possibility. Lamya moved to the United States for college and grad school, navigating new friendships with other liberal Muslims and new prejudices against brown bodies, especially bodies wearing hijab. One compelling chapter outlines the nightmare of bureaucratic hoops that need to be jumped through to renew student and work visas; the author compares choosing to stay in the US to staying in an abusive relationship. But Lamya fell for New York City, and for the family, chosen, queer, and blood, that they collected over the years. I really appreciated this book for offering a perspective I'd never read before, and for its fierce insistence that one can absolutely be both Muslim and queer.

Vivian’s Ghost by Hal Schrieve

Holy shit, this comic. I fell head-first into this 350 page scratchy black and white comic and read it all in one wild evening. The story follows a set of very messy trans people, several literally haunted by a violent ghost from their pasts. Collin, Vivian, and Andrew orbited each other as awkward, horny trans teenagers, trying to define the edges of their own identities through sex, alcohol, long tumblr posts, and Rocky Horror shows, mostly without supportive parents. Vivian died at 17. At 26, Collin in a cam boy and weed delivery guy in NYC during the early days of the pandemic; Andrew has de-transitioned, married a man, is trying to get pregnant and has sold quotes to an anti-trans journalist writing opinion pieces about the dangers of minors transitioning. Multiple times while reading this I found myself thinking "a cis person could never have written this;" its so deeply steeped in trans longings, fears, desires, neuroses, rage, yearnings, and hope. It's not an easy or safe story; it doesn't have a fully happy ending. But I consumed it and it consumed me in return. If you are struggling to find this book available in print, it is possible to read the whole story on the author's instagram page.

Breathe: Journeys to Healthy Binding by Maia Kobabe and Sarah Peitzmeier read by Sarah Peitzmeier, Kieran Todd, Blair Baker, Alejandro Antonio Ruiz, Livvie Lin and Kiebpoli Calnek

I finally sat down to listen to the audiobook, which was narrated primarily by my co-author Sarah Peitzmeier along with her research partner Kieran Todd, and the wonderful cast of Blair Baker, Alejandro Antonio Ruiz, Livvie Lin and Kiebpoli Calnek. It was such a pleasure to hear these characters' voices come to life, and see how the workbook and stretching exercise pages were handled! Obviously I am very proud of the print edition which contains my illustrations; but I am so happy that the audiobook exists as well, for anyone who prefers audio (or likes to take in audio and print side by side).

Kochab by Sarah Webb

One day when out skiing, Sonya's scarf is stolen by a flying snow spirit. She chases it deep into the forest and breaks a ski after a reckless jump. Lost without supplies in the dead of winter, Sonya follows the faint trail of light and finds an impossible palace inhabited by one sleeping fire spirit, Kyra. Kyra's home was once bright, full of life and community. Now it is derelict and crumbling, under attack by the forces of ice. This is a slim story, fairy tale-like. I wanted a little more from the plot, given the book's length; but the pages are stunning. Everything from the character movement, background designs, color choices, to dynamic panel layouts impressed me. I know I'll be looking through this book again in the future when I need some visual inspiration.

Buckle Up by Lawrence Lindell

Lonnie's parents are recently divorced, and he's still getting used to splitting time between two different houses- one with his mom and older sister, one with his dad. He's still getting used to being picked up by alternating parents from school, and he's trying to hide these facts from his friends. This short, tender story uses the framing device of these car rides to show Lonnie facing some weighty conversations with his parents. The majority of the book takes place in the car and I really loved seeing how Lonnie learned to speak up for himself, to work through problems, and verbalize his emotions. Highly recommend for elementary school readers, especially ones experiencing big feelings.

How It All Ends by Emma Hunsinger 

Tara was "accelerated" from seventh grade straight into high school at the advice of some of her teachers, but in the first few weeks of school she feels deeply unready. The school is so big, the schedule confusing, the hallways packed, and her end-of-day English class is full of some of the rowdiest, rudest boys she's ever met. Tara would much rather stay at home playing pretend with her baby brother or go back to middle school and take the eighth grade trip to Six Flags that she had to miss. Even with her older sister, already in tenth grade, willing to lend a hand by drawing her school maps, showing her the dating reality TV show everyone is talking about, and taking her to hangouts in the park, Tara is struggling. But there's this girl. A smart, funny, interesting girl, who partners up with Tara for English assignments and laughs at her jokes. Meeting this girl might just be the one thing that makes high school worth it. I had such a fun time with this comic- it's full of whimsical daydream sequences that really show Tara's internal world. I highly recommend this, especially to anyone who felt (or feels) unready to leave childhood and enter teenagerdom.

[aroacemisha]

Listen I'm trying to be supportive of RL Belos here, but if I was Evelyn and he tried to kill me I wouldn't be ten feet near that guy and I sure as hell wouldn't allow my children near him even if he was my BIL.

Did he try to kill her while she was pregnant? Did Caleb have to stop him? Did he ever apologise/make up for it? Because even though he's better in this au he still majorly annoys me like he does in canon and I cannot find it within myself to pity him much at all.

(Was gonna say this at the end, but I think it's kinda silly to follow an AU where a character you find annoying is one of the main characters and is thus heavily focused on. It's also a little rude to come and tell someone how much you dislike a character they really enjoy, it's better to keep that on your own blog. But I digress)

Anyways, I'd like to clarify some things here/give a more detailed timeline of the dynamic.

Evelyn has met Philip before. During her initial visits to the Human Realm, she (~18 years old) pretended to be human, and she befriended Caleb (17-18 years old) - and she was on friendly terms with Philip (13-14 years old) as well, although they weren't close. The relationship went on that way for a couple years, and over that time she started to visit more frequently (originally she started at once every few weeks).

When she finally revealed she was a witch, it was only to Caleb, and both were unaware that Philip was spying on them. Upon seeing her perform real magic, Philip didn't hate her at first, he was just scared. He didn't report either of them, and didn't tell either of them that he knew Evelyn's secret, but was becoming worried that she was dangerous to Caleb.

At one point Evelyn (~22) and Caleb (21-22) were found out and Caleb was about to go on trial, but Evelyn rescued him and they ran away to the Demon Realm. Philip (~18) later followed and found them a few months later, being convinced during his search that Caleb is in danger.

He tried to attack Evelyn in that initial encounter, and she was startled for a bit, before realizing that she can handle him if she just uses magic, since he's human and doesn't have magic of his own. That was also the only time he tried to attack her in that way.

After being calmed down by Caleb and, after a very long conversation, begrudgingly agreeing to give the Demon Realm a chance (for Caleb's sake), Philip remained hostile to Evelyn for a while, but that hostility was mostly bratty child behavior, feral cat behavior (growling, etc) and passive-aggressive prayers. She found some of it funny and once wondered if her beast keeping magic would work on him.

He'd get into some arguments with her, but wouldn't try to physically fight her, in part because he knew she'd just trap him in abomination slime, vines and/or stone if he tried. Caleb's presence was an additional mitigating/soothing factor.

She also figured that if Caleb could change his beliefs after coming from the same place, Philip likely could too, and if he isn't trying to murder or attack anyone, why not give him a chance.

She knew he was only hostile due to being indoctrinated as a child to believe that witches were evil, and only attacked her due to being convinced she was a danger to Caleb, so if that belief was to be dismantled, he would probably become friendly. And it did happen, and he gradually came to accept witchkind as a whole. Realizing his own queerness also contributed to his old beliefs falling apart.

The birth of Caleb and Evelyn's child also helped soften him. By the time the child started to say their first words and learned to call him uncle, it was really pulling on his heartstrings. At that point he was already on generally friendly terms with Evelyn and was allowed to hold the kid sometimes. He was already showing hints of his protective parental traits back then with how he treated the kid, although he would only become a parent himself many decades later.

And yeah, Philip apologized for everything at multiple points during his deradicalization. As for what he did to make up for it, given Evelyn's playful personality, she probably asked him to do something silly to entertain her as an apology. He'd also help her and Caleb fix stuff that broke in their house, and he was showing early signs of his interest in engineering, as he really liked fixing mechanical things.

They ultimately ended up becoming besties, and their personalities meshed well. They only drifted apart and eventually lost touch after Caleb's death, mainly through Philip drifting away, since he blamed himself for the accident in the mines and was particularly ashamed to be around the child.

Also the reason he continued trying to build the portal door even after he accepted the Isles wasn't because he wanted to go back (he felt safer and more accepted among witches), but because he wanted to spread the truth to other humans, and hoped he could change their minds too and end witch hunting, so no witch or human is harmed by them again (this later fed into his developing belief that the realms should be united). So he wanted to fix the systemic problem as well, although his expectations for how it would go and whether it would even work were too idealized.

[astrobei]

i would like a more detailed breakdown of your mike robin friendship analysis 🤲 💗

hi ella i have been putting this ask off because i have so many thoughts on them and i was trying to gather them into something somewhat coherent and then i realized that will never happen so! here are my thoughts on mike and robin friendship that literally no one except ella asked for but i will be providing anyway:

(i want to preface this by saying that by no means do i think this is a prediction! s5 is super plot heavy and i doubt there will be too much time to develop new relationships from scratch but in my dream world this is mike and robin’s dynamic and why i think they should be best friends forever.)

1. mike, by nature, is a little standoffish and a bit hostile to new people (max, even el, despite the monologue cough cough). that’s just how he is! even though he’s very silly and cringefail etc etc he’s still super protective of his friends and guarded and that’s definitely heightened as shit gets more intense in later seasons. it takes a while for his real personality to come out around new people! this is where i point out that robin has exactly the sort of personality that mike would find initially very abrasive bc she is loud and she rambles and she makes bad jokes and she says shit like “dingus” aka is exactly the sort of person dustin considers “cool” (see again: max) 100% certain that mike would not be robin’s biggest fan at first but it’s more of a startled and apprehensive response than genuine distaste

2. fundamentally, i think robin and mike are very similar people! which is kind of complicated because i feel like robin is in this weird place where she’s enough of a main character to have a clear-cut personality and it’s easy to say what would be ooc for her, but she also isn’t enough of a main character like will or el or max to know too much about her inner monologue etc etc. BUT! pushing aside their obvious identity issues for a hot second— mike and robin are both insanely loyal, analytical (s2 mike and s3 robin please come home), funny and nerdy and talkative, and they have a hard time opening up about their real feelings except for that one special person (steve and will). it’s clear that what both of them really want, under all the humor and the front, is to be loved and accepted, and they both find this in that one special person.

3. look. i love love love the robin/will mentorship hc it is so near and dear to me and i need this to happen in s5 because i need will to talk to another gay person like i need air, BUT. this is where i point out that will has grown up with his own form of a support system and mike has never in his life known that. yes his life has not been easy even without all the upside down shit and im not disregarding that !! but when you’re looking at will’s relationships with the people around him, he’s super close to his mom and his brother and he’s always been able to talk to them and go to them for anything. jonathan accepted him with open arms and we all know that joyce “i don’t know what that THING is but it’s not my son” byers is not going to bat an eye at will’s sexuality after everything. mike, on the other hand, needs a mentor figure because he’s never known this kind of support. the inclusion that he felt with the party isn’t as strong anymore, and his friend group is dissipating and he’s not close with any of the older teens, not even his sister, and and and and—

4. ok. expanding on the nancy thing because i got off track a bit! i love the wheeler siblings. i really do. i would give anything to see them be the apocalyptic sibling duo of the century in s5 but if i’m being really honest, nancy and mike are just. not close. even after everything they’ve been through together, we never see them have storylines together and other than that one line about nancy’s vecna vision showing her mike, they just. never really feel like they’re close to me. mike has never gotten the kind of support and closeness from nancy that will gets from jonathan, or lucas gets from erica, or dustin gets from steve (since he’s an only child) and while both of them have their own shit going on, i just don’t think mike sees nancy as someone he can go to. she got in early decision to college, she runs the school newspaper, she’s always been ambitious and driven and decisive on her future which are exactly the things mike is struggling with— fitting in, finding his place, etc etc. nancy had that whole thing in s1 and 2 with murray about who people expect her to be (dating steve) vs who she wants to be (dating jonathan) and then she got past that hurdle and mike is. well. he’s not quite there yet. but the bottom line is that for mike and what he’s dealing with rn, i think robin is a lot more relatable and approachable than nancy is, because she’s also navigating complex identity (and sexuality) issues, she doesn’t have all her shit sorted out (at least from mike’s pov bc nancy is only 18 and doesn’t know everything etc etc) but. i just think that out of the older teens, if mike needed to talk to someone, then robin would be able to relate to him more and be infinitely more approachable. also maybe this is just me projecting but i think that mike would rly gravitate towards robin’s style and stuff, especially from her pseudo-alt era from s3 with the rings and the eyeliner and the bracelets and stuff!! i loved her look in s4 too but idk something abt s3 robin is so <3 to me. yeah. definitely projecting.

5. maybe this is a bit of an unpopular opinion but the robin is a lesbian yoda trope is not my most favorite. like, i really don’t think that just because she’s older and she’s the only one to actually come out on screen and have a queer storyline that she knows anything and everything there is to know about queer dynamics! she’s a 17/18 year old lesbian in the 80s in the middle of indiana and just thinking about her talk with steve in the car makes me so sad because she’s aware that asking out the wrong girl could be catastrophic for her :( i think she’s also uncertain about a lot of things pertaining to her sexuality and i think there’s a difference between robin as a mentor figure being like, “hey, it’s totally okay to be gay and not have everything figured out, but know you’re not a mistake and you’re not alone because i’m like you” vs “here are 100 terms for queer people and the names of every sexuality under the sun because i know Everything,” and genuinely and honestly, i think mike just needs someone to tell him that first thing: that he’s only fourteen (almost 15 at the end of s4) and he literally does not need to know everything about himself or his feelings or who he is but just that he isn’t alone and it’s important that he doesn’t try to suppress that part of himself for the sake of appearances. idk my thoughts on this are very personal and i could make a whole other post (or write another 37k words on this) but! i just think that if robin got to know mike a little more she would see a lot of herself in him

um. that’s all off the top of my head but this already became one million times longer than i was expecting and i’m certain i have more thoughts on these two so i might make a second post later! thanks for enabling me i hope this is somewhat coherent (?) Maybe.

[dekusheroacademia]

Why Izuocha works and how it fits the BNHA main theme - An analysis

As said before, I will stop posting Izuocha, I have seen one too many homophobic insult and one too many hateful anti bkdk posts. I wrote this draft before my decision, and the idea of finishing it makes me nauseous. Still, it is almost complete, so here you are, my last Izuocha post.

It will have manga spoilers

WHY IZUOCHA WORKS - THE MAIN THEMES OF BNHA

I wrote this thinking of old shounen I watched, from Dragon Ball to Slam Dunk, Saint Seiya, Naruto and many others. In some cases, we have canon ships, or romances, in some others we don't. In most cases, some female characters are usually relegated to the category of romantic interest and there they end up kind of trapped - mainly in the sense that most of the interactions they have with the protagonist are about that specific romance.

In my opinion, Uraraka almost falls into the trope, before jumping out of it. A change of mind from Hori? Or maybe he wanted to write her like this since the beginning, given that he loves avoiding tropes.

Friendship and OFA

The main theme of BNHA, or one of the main ones, is friendship. For Deku, in particular, friendship comes as something precious and scarce. Uraraka falls right in the center of this theme. While Izuku has old friends (Bakugou) and new friends (Iida, Todoroki etc.), Uraraka remains the first person who positively accepts his friendship.

Even Iida and Todoroki are initially hostile to Deku, given that they work in a very competitive environment. Uraraka, instead, is the first one who gives a hand without expecting nothing in exchange and without distrust.

More importantly, she is also placed front and central in one of the main weakness that Deku has: his relationship with his new power, AFO. All Might sees Deku as a hero, once Deku saves Bakugou, but he is the only one. Bakugou himself, after being saved, doesn't really care for Deku's heroic ability. Iida distrusts him, the teachers seem harsh- Uraraka is the first person after All Might who truly believes Deku can be a hero.

And by first (well, second) person I mean in the whole world. Deku saves her at the entrance exam and she believes in him so much that she tries to convince the teacher to let them in the school.

This reciprocal support and friendship can be seen numerous times, for example during the tournament when Uraraka is the one who lifts Deku's spirit at the cavalrly battle, but also is represented by the parallel between Uraraka's speech and Deku's entrance to the school.

Where Bakugou was Deku´s first save on the path to be a hero, Uraraka is literally the gate to the path to becoming a hero, the UA school.

This is not just Uraraka helping a friend, but it is also her making sure that Deku knows she still see him as a hero and that he is still considered a hero. Similar to what she obtained (for him) when she fought for his admission. Horikoshi does love his parallelisms!

Admiration - Inspiration - Imitation

Another main theme in BNHA is the theme of admiration and ispiration. Uraraka is the character who gets the most development out of the ship. Canon crush, in this case, is one of the ways Horikoshi fits another puzzle into his big collection of "admiration" that BNHA revolves around. Starting from the tournament, we have Uraraka admiring Deku's spirit. Of course she wants to be a hero, but we see the difference in seriousness between Deku and her (especially during their first test with AM). So it is at the tournament where we see that Uraraka admires Deku's spirit because he is "always looking ahead to the next challenge".

Deku inspires Uraraka.

This is a central theme in BNHA. It can be found in many other relationships. We see it, of course, with Deku and AM, we see it with Deku admiring Bakugou and Bakugou being inspired by Deku into being a better hero, with Todoroki inspiring Momo by letting her know how much he trusts her, in Bakugou inspiring Kirishima and his unbreakable, etc.

And of course, as said before, the big inspiration being All Might for Deku, Todoroki and Bakugou, all three the only non villain characters to have an "origin" chapter around them WATCHING All Might and the way All Might inspired them. That is why those three are the mains characters who can also inspire others.

In BNHA, we have almost a net that goes from character to character, to inspire everyone. Starting with All Might, and Deku, but also Bakugou and Todoroki, the whole class and more ends up being touched by AM's (and Deku's) idea of being a hero. Here is a little representation of it. For example: Bakugou inspiring Kirishima, and Mina and Kirishima inspiring each others. Deku inspiring Ojiro and Todoroki, Todoroki inspiring Momo etc.

Uraraka is also one of the few relationships where the inspiration is reciprocal. In my opinion it only happens for Uraraka-Deku, Kirishima-Mina, Bakugou-Deku, Mirio-Deku, Tetsutetsu-Kirishima, Jirou-Kaminari.

In the case of Uraraka and Deku, Uraraka can inspire confidence in Deku, and Deku inspires motivation in Uraraka. Of course, the fact that Uraraka's new meaning for the name "Deku" is someone who can do things is the literal explicit representation of her influence over Deku.

Now, these relationships of inspirations all lead to different journeys. For Todoroki it is a journey of self acceptance and acceptance of his family, for Bakugou it is a matter of becoming a better person and a better hero... etc.

In general, these journeys often pass through the theme of imitation.

The biggest one being Deku so blinded by his love for AM that his imitation leads him to... not realize he can use OFA with his legs. Imitation is also pretty common among most characters too. We have Mina who "copies" (affectionately) Kirishima's unbreakable in a new move of hers, we have Deku using Bakugou's anger (copying it) against the villains and then copying his moves, we have Todoroki using a version of Endeavor's move, Deku using his legs like Iida etc.

The obvious one, in the case of Uraraka, is the way she adapts her costume. As for some of the other cases, this imitation is not just practical but comes from her character's evolution.

She initially wants to see people smile, be able to see them happy and she knows heroes can do that. Having a good job could also help her parents and bring a smile to their faces. She starts a bit hesitant, but being inspired by Deku she decides to copy his determination (I believe the reason she wants to be stronger after the tournament is also that). She sees how he saves people, she also herself fails to save people, going through the same hero journey Deku went through (ex. Deku failed to save Bakugou at Kamino).

Hiding her feelings, putting them aside, is just part of this journey. Because in BNHA affection, love, care, often revolves around inspiration/admiration/imitation, we have Uraraka being fit in here with her crush just like a puzzle piece. I'll come back to it in the last part, about Toga, but for now I want to add that the similar path is actually interesting because Deku and Uraraka are then apart for a big chunk of the manga.

And yet they both reach the same conclusion, going from taking hero work seriously, to wanting to save, to move before she can think, Uraraka also arrives at her need to save villains, at being able to see villains as people. This is something that only her and Deku share.

2. Toga

Toga is not there to take Uraraka away from the crush or to be a random villain, and she is definitely not a way to show Uraraka that her crush is unhealthy - the opposite.

Uraraka is not controlled by her feelings. She was able to put them aside, for now, because they were distracting her. And this is part of her wanting to be at least a little bit like Deku, able to focus on the job because the job is important, it is saving lives. I think it is also important to remember that Uraraka doesn't put away her feelings randomly, but she does so during saving-training to get her license.

Toga instead is absolutely controlled by her feelings. She obsesses about them, about her crush for Deku and Uraraka, so much that he hinders her job. She cares little for it, she sneaks out and changes into Uraraka to be able to see Deku, then se uses Deku's blood just to be able to trick Uraraka

Toga wants to be like her crush, in everything, it is possessing them and being them. Uraraka's desire to be more like Deku is still her having her own personality. She is insipired by Deku, she wants to be like him, but when it comes to it... she wants to save people because of her own understanding and experiences, she wants to save villains because of what she is and what happened to her.

Other parallel qualities are the way Toga's crush comes from intuition, one look and she decides Deku is her love (simply because of how he looked similar to someone else), one look and she sees that Uraraka is like her, so she loves her too. Instead, Uraraka's crush comes with time, she actually needs someone external (Aoyama and Mina) to aknoweldge it before she realizes, it also comes from understanding, from understanding Deku's spirit and his motivations... so much that this understanding leads both her and Deku through parallel roads: the need to save heroes.

And when the time comes to confess, Toga is quick to discard her feeling at the first flaws (well, flaws for her). Uraraka instead doesn't let go. Deku's biggest flaw (also said by Bakugou) is that he is selfless, to a fault, so much that he thinks he can do everything if he only pushes through. When encountering this flaw (when Deku leaves the school), Uraraka is the one who is shown by Hori both reading his letter and deciding to find a way to get Deku back. And she follows him, with the class, until he is back and safe.

As said, her love is not as flimsy as Toga`s feelings. But she is also not a copy of Deku, she has understanding of her feelings, of what Toga might be feeling herself, because of her journey, and maybe that is how she could save Toga.

To conclude, I just wanted to show that Uraraka's crush is not just another "shounen crush/romance". It is there because it is Uraraka's piece in the whole mix up of admiration/imitation theme of BNHA. It fits both in the story, and within the rest of the characters. Even if she has less screen time, she is still an important part of the narrative, not only that, but her love/crush is an important part of it.

[saltwukong]

Another break from current happenings to gush about a ship:

Literally nothing you can come up with will have the power and softness of Sun Wukong's debut, okay? Nothing. You cannot hope to match the romance, the dignity, in how Sun Wukong literally strutted into Blake Belladonna's life and made it better.

This dude gets off a boat he boarded illegally in an unfamiliar place, and pretty much the first things he sees are: a) cops and b) pretty girls. He blitzes it out past both of those and he has that flashbang wink at the ready. There's four girls there that are all standing right next to each other and pretty much equally beautiful, but he chooses Blake. Why? Because he knows the second he sees her that she's a faunus. He's got a tail he can't hide, it attracts attention, and he sees this faunus trying to keep her secret--and he lets her know it's safe.

(And then Blake gets her heart put on hold, and Weiss is like "We have to observe him!" and she's just standing there dizzy thinking "same").

He keeps going, leads the police past her and only jumps out of their reach once RWBY's chase is stalled by them smacking into Penny. And we don't see him again until that night (after Weiss mutates into someone's racist mom) and Blake has fled her dorm damn near in tears. We only hear his voice and he only says one line but it's enough.

"I knew you would look better without the bow."

He knew from the start she was a faunus hiding her race, and when he sees her all alone, emotional and compromised, the first thing he does is assure her that she looks good the way she naturally does--as herself. Not wearing something to make her look more white human.

The next time we see these two, this dude who doesn't even know her has stuck by her for almost two days so she won't have to be alone in a city that's hostile to people like her. He doesn't press her for details, doesn't try to make her talk, doesn't complain. He just waits for her to talk when she's ready, and when she does talk, he listens.

He doesn't ingratiate himself to her exclusively, either. The first question he asks is if she's told her friends any of this, friends he has laid eyes on exactly once--asking if she feels safe enough amongst her peers to be open about her history. She doesn't, so he stays. Even though he was initially ill about the White Fang, he accepts her as someone with ties to the organization and assists her when she wants to clear their name.

He keeps her fed, he watches her back, and he stays behind when she charges in, only getting involved once it's clear she needs help. They barely know each other but they quickly become a team, Sun working support for a girl who's headstrong and passionate but full of doubts. It just works.

[themetalvirus]

Hypothetically speaking (since with how deeply he's ingrained the whole "my dad can do no wrong" mentality, him leaving it is going to be damn near impossible), what would a redeemed Egghog Sonic look like? How drastically would his behavior and identity change, given he'd basically have to start from scratch with how viciously Eggman stunted him emotionally and mentally?

oh man oh man oh man when i first got this question it sparked so much inspiration i had to go downstairs and pace around for an hour

i usually am not a fan of AUs branching off of other AUs but... this was almost a thing! when i first started thinking about egghogs, i wasn't sure whether sonic would be doomed from the start or if he could somehow be strongarmed into changing. some of this comes from that era of the story where i was still figuring out how it would end... i just think it's interesting thinking about him being "redeemed". because he wouldn't start fighting for the side of good, he'd spend the rest of his life just trying to make sense of what happened to him.

one of the endings i came up with initially was him coming out of his triple-hyper form exhausted and injured. the intensity of his transformation collapsed eggman's lair around him. his brothers hustle over to help him and patch him up (despite him just trying to overwrite the universe). despite everything he's still family and they love him dearly. amy tries to walk over and help, but sonic growls at her animalistically, pupils pinning and ears flat on his head. it is a very clear nonverbal Don't Fucking Touch Me.

but she's the one with the first aid kit. so she has to kind of toss it over to the boys, and sonic seems incredibly apprehensive about accepting any help from amy, direct or indirect. he's wary of the supplies, but in his condition, he has no choice but to let his brothers patch him up with the enemy's gauze. they end up hauling him over to tails' place, and he is NOT happy about it. he says to amy directly that as soon as he gets the chance he is going to find her and kill her. shadow is like ok edgelord lets get you to the cot

i don't think sonic would start from scratch. he can't. he's been affected too deeply by his experiences. the process of him even accepting that eggman hurt him takes an agonizingly long time, and it's made worse by amy overstepping and trying to play therapist. she tells him over and over, your dad hurt you, you are traumatized, you've been abused, and he isn't in a place to hear that. it feels like accusations. it feels like she's telling him that he's wrong, his whole self, it's all wrong. it makes his anger flare up violently.

he thinks that he must have done something to deserve what eggman did, and even then, he can't accept that what eggman did was hurting him at all, let alone intended to hurt.

the bitterness of seeing his brothers thriving and happy without him feels even worse now that he's with them, experiencing what's been making them so happy. but he comes around, he starts participating in silly games and movie night and starts to sit down at dinner instead of hiding away to eat, and it's all to spend time with his bros.

they have to reintroduce him to other people slowly, like letting two cats sniff each other through a door and share meals on different sides of a grate. eating adjacent to amy or tails or knuckles or the chaotix, sitting safely between silver and shadow. playing split screen mario kart and letting tails watch. training together like old times, except they have to take turns with other members of the resistance. it breaks down sonic's tough shell little by little.

once sonic starts being (very cautiously) neutral instead of actively hostile, people start feeling more comfortable doing nice things for him. sending him memes, getting him surprise clown-related trinkets they know he'd love, maybe even getting him some new funky clothes because they thought of him. he doesn't know how to feel about this, doesn't know how to accept gestures like this, but shadow and silver have been through the same learning curve and help him through it. the strange feeling of belonging starts to grow stronger.

he starts to get more comfortable. he wasn't getting new hurts, but something was still making him ache.

i don't know what would do this, what would finally crack through that thick wall of self-protection and brainwashing, but there's a very sudden and abrupt realization that eggman hurt him. eggman was making him hurt. the thought of him made him upset. i imagine he would just cry. he would feel the weakest he's ever felt in his whole life, the most broken, the most small. maybe it's finally experiencing safety that makes him realize just how unsafe he was.

i truly don't think he'd be all gung-ho about being good. he'd just... i don't know. waste away in his room and feel Bad for a bunch of years. self-isolate to hell and back to avoid pain and thus cause his extroverted heart even more pain. then, i dunno, he'd run around and try to keep himself entertained, meet new people. but he wouldn't work to fix his mistakes like shadow and silver would; i don't think he'd ever take full responsibility for his actions. but he'd avoid being a fucked up little evil guy as to not hurt more people. and he would try his best not to think about his little "evil phase", put it out of mind. he's sonic. he suppresses, and he keeps barreling forward.

i think the best anyone could hope for is him just running around and seeing the world and going to carnivals and jumping out of planes and eating a bunch of food. not doing good, not saving people. just thrill seeking and self fulfillment without the violence or industrial expansion. he'd never fully emotionally mature, but he'd at least be happy and mostly harmless.

too bad that's not how he actually turns out.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers w/ an afab s/o that was sexually assaulted/raped and they encounter her rapist/abuser ty ly man <3

The Slashers with a S/O who had been Sexually Assaulted:

Thomas Hewitt 

Thomas just holds you as you tell him about your assault, listening intently.

It hurt him to know that somebody hurt you like that but all he wanted to do was comfort you.

Lots of cuddles and sweet tea for the two of you that evening.

He couldn’t help but ask himself how somebody could ever hurt you. You were just so lovely, he couldn’t understand how somebody could mistreat you.

Apparently even a deserted town in the middle of Texas wasn’t far enough, because you completely froze when you saw the familiar face among the newest group of victims.

You instantly told Tommy because he instantly sensed that something was wrong.

Thomas is angry that your abuser is even here.

You were supposed to be safe here, he wanted to keep you safe.

Whether this person was your abuser or not, he wouldn’t be leaving the Hewitt residence, but Thomas doesn’t feel bad about it at all in this case.

They hurt you and now he’s going to hurt them. Still, he makes it quick but not before reminding them why they should have never touched you, no matter how long ago it was.

Once he’s finished with his ‘work’ for the day, he cleans up and heads straight to the bedroom where you are already waiting.

He pulls you into an embrace that makes you feel safe, silently promising that he’s never going to let anyone hurt you again. They’re never going to touch you again.

Michael Myers

Affection with Michael can be a tricky thing, even trickier when he is the one attempting to initiate it.

But when you tell him about your assault for the first time, you could see his mind working overtime.

Too many thoughts bounced around his head. The anger he felt that somebody hurt you, his protectiveness over you, he surprising amount of empathy for you, and the undeniable need to...comfort you.

He doesn’t speak but you didn’t expect him too. He just wraps his strong arms around you and holds you against his chest. He hopes you understand what he’s trying to tell you.

You’re not going to encounter your abuser again. Michael has already gotten all information he needs and is slipping out that night to hunt them down.

He just can’t leave this be.

Anyone who thinks they can hurt you, lay a finger on you, or even look at you funny, needs to be taught a lesson.

Plus, Michael never wants you to have to see that person again. The part of him that feels the need to protect you is just too strong.

Jason Voorhees

Jason’s glad that you trust him enough to share this with him but he’s also heartbroken for you. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could ever hurt you.

If you cry, he’ll wipe your tears. If you need him to hold you, he already is.

He’s heart aches for you and he just wants to comfort you, he wants to make you feel better.

He wants to be there for you, to be good for you.

He vows to protect you. Well, he already vowed to do that but his protective over you does increase a little.

At least your safe now. Nobody’s going to hurt you here and Jason will always be looking out for you, protecting you and loving you. You have nothing to worry about anymore.

Until a new group rolled into the camp and you instantly recognised one of their faces.

Jason noticed your change in demeanour and instantly worried.

Then you told him that one of those people were your abuser...and he was even more determined to dispose of every last one of them.

He’d take you back to the cabin where you would be warm and safe. You were always his first priority. 

And that night he would do what it is that he does.

Getting rid of the group staying at the abandoned camp, disposing of their bodies.

He’d return to the cabin, placing down his machete and removing his mask, before pulling you into a hug.

Their gone now and can’t ever hurt you again, it’s okay now. Jason would do anything to protect you, just wanting to love you and make sure you’re safe.

Will happily spend the rest of the night cuddling with you, for as long as you want, just after he’s cleaned himself up.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is absolutely heart broken for you when you first tell him about your assault, which in this case is like an ex-partner.

You’ve been so good to him since you came to the house, how could anyone ever hurt you. How dare anyone hurt you?!

Don’t you worry, Y/n. You’re here now, with Brahms, you’re safe and he won’t let anything bad happen to you.

Plenty of cuddles are called for for the rest of the day.

The way you both encounter your abuser again is probably when they show up to the house with the intention of seeing you, and Brahms is not against killing them at this point.

They had the audacity to come into his home, and to see you again? 

He just wants to protect you and he can’t help the anger he felt, knowing what they had done to you.

And the chances are that he will kill them if you don’t find another way to handle the situation. It’s not like he can call the police or just politely ask them to leave.

For your sake, Brahms will try to stay calm. But if your abuser isn’t leaving, even after meeting Brahms, he will have to take care of the situation.

Bo Sinclair

When you tell Bo about your assault, he isn’t too sure how to react. He hadn’t been expecting that.

He’d sigh, carefully guiding you onto his lap so that he could better hold you, gently apologising for your experience even though he had nothing to do with it.

He often struggled with keeping his anger at bay and regulating his emotions but he knew that he needed too right now. 

He could be angry about this another time, just not in front of you.

Right now, he would just hold you and comfort you, letting you talk about it if that’s what you want to do.

If you encounter your abuser again when they are passing through Ambrose. Well, they won’t be passing through.

Anyone who passes through the town adds to the wax figure collection anyway, so this person is just unlucky that Bo already has a personal vendetta against him.

And he makes sure to let them know that this is what happens when they hurt somebody that he cares about.

Of course, your abuser will not be added to the wax collection, he doesn’t want you having to see their face ever again. Bo will have Lester dispose of their body.

But if you encounter your abuser when you and Bo are going into another town to pick up supplies, Bo knows he can’t deal with it the way that he wants too.

That doesn’t stop him from being forwardly intimidating and threatening towards them.

Holds you close and away from them, getting you away from them as fast as he can but not before clearly threatening them if they ever even so much as looked at you again.

Bo keeps you close for the rest of the trip, reluctantly apologising for possibly making you uncomfortable even if you hadn’t expressed that to him.

He won’t mention it again unless you do, just asking you if you’re alright. Even offers to take you home, you can pick up supplies another day.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent is quick to pull you into an embrace when you open up about your assault for the first time.

Just wants to comfort you right now.

All he wants is to be there for you and make you feel better. But he knows that he can’t change anything and he probably can’t just make you feel better but he wants to at least make you happy with him.

He’s there if you ever need to talk, always ready to provide cuddles and love.

You and Bo usually meet the groups that Lester brings into town, being the only two who can gain their trust and make them comfortable. 

You didn’t tell Bo why you couldn’t help him with this group, but you told Vincent as soon as you got back to the house.

Vincent just took the time to comfort you and calm you down, letting Bo deal with the group. There wasn’t much he could do right now anyway.

And you were more important than them. 

But when the time comes that he has to help Bo deal with the group, he won’t feel bad about that happens to the person that hurt you.

Of course, your abuser will not be added to the wax figure collection, he doesn’t want you having to see their face ever again. Vincent will have Lester dispose of their body.

Lester Sinclair

Lester just wants to comfort you in this moment. Letting you tell him about your assault as he hold you, dragging the blanket off of the back of the couch and wrapping it around your shoulders.

He just wants to be there for you in that moment. 

He wants you to know that he’s there for you and you can rely on him whenever you might need him.

You’re living with him now, just outside Ambrose, what are the chases of you running into them again? You’re safe, he promises you’re never going to see them again.

The two of you encounter your abuser when he’s driving nearby the town. Lester just thought it was a random passer-by, until you pulled him aside and told him other wise.

He can’t deny his anger and will straight up ask you if you want him to ‘get rid of the problem’.

He also feels bad because he promised you wouldn’t have to see them again but here they were.

But, despite his anger, if you didn’t want him to kill them, he will accept it. Either way, they’re going to die. One of the twins will just do it...

He’s very hostile on the drive into Ambrose though, pretty much threatening them before kicking them out of the truck once they were near the town.

But if you give him the go ahead? He’s on it.

The brothers already kill innocent people. Why wouldn’t they be even more dedicated to killing somebody who deserved it?

Lester won’t even consider sending your abuser to his brothers. Definitely will not be added to the wax museum. Into the pit of roadkill they go!

Bubba Sawyer

Even more cuddles than usual.

Don’t worry, he’ll protect you. You’re here with him now, you’re safe, and he’ll look after you! Nothing is going to hurt you now!

Of course he’s generally mad that somebody ever hurt you. But anger doesn’t even surface in him because he’s more concerned about your well being.

If you’re abuser never comes around, he simply doesn’t care. It’s more important to show you lots and lots of love.

But apparently it’s a very small world and eventually one of the groups of victims included your abuser, and you instantly told Bubba.

He would just keep you away from them, letting you stay in the bedroom, leaving you with a sweet kiss, silently promising to take care of everything and to keep you safe.

The family will go about their business as usual, Bubba dealing with you abuser personally and making sure that they never hurt anyone else ever again.

He doesn’t even kill them in anger (though of course he is angry) he kills them as a duty to you.

As soon as everything is dealt with and quietened down, Bubba makes an effort to clean himself up before hurrying back to the bedroom.

He’ll tell you what happened if you ask but gives you a tight hug first.

Everything is going to be okay now, Y/n, they can never hurt you again!

Billy Lenz

Billy’s heart aches when you tell him about your assault.

But you opening up to him about something so difficult might encourage him to open up about his own abuse and assault he experienced when he was younger.

It’s a very emotional moment for both of you.

Lot’s of comfort required in both directions.

Billy never leaves the house with you so if you run into your abuser then and tell him after you’ve returned to the house, he is so worried.

Are you okay? Did that touch you? Do you just need some love and support right now? 

But if your abuser comes to the house with the intention of seeing you or hurting you again, Billy can not let that happen.

He will kill them and deal with the clean up all on his own. 

He has to protect you, Y/n!

Asa Emory (The collector)

When you tell him about your assault, Asa listens carefully, takes in every word and just lets you get it off of your chest.

He doesn’t react much, never really allowing himself to get over emotional. Even though he is furious with this person.

He’ll hold you and comfort you, stroking your hair, kissing your forehead, whispering words of love and assurance.

But you’re not going to encounter this person. Tell him who it was. A name, a description, a place or time, give him all the information you know and he will deal with this.

One night, instead of going to the hotel, he targets the person who did this to you.

And he won’t make it quick either, they don’t deserve a quick death. But he’s also not going to add them to his collection, they aren’t worth that.

Afterwards, he comes homes. Already clean and acting like he was coming home from work rather than committing a murder.

In an uncharacteristically affectionate act, Asa pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head. 

He won’t tell you want he did unless you ask but the gesture alone tells you that he has done something. It’s reassurance, a promise that they can never hurt you again.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Jesse will hold you as you tell him about your assault, just listening to whatever information you want to share with him. And he won’t push you on the details.

There is no way you’re encountering this person again. Not a chance.

As soon as you’ve told him about this, he plans on tacking them down. And when Chromeskull set his mind to something, there is no way his target is escaping him.

You already know that he’s going to want to kill who did this to you, you had to know that when you told him. You know who Jesse is, what he does, and you know that he hates the thought of anyone hurting you.

Give him a name and he’s on it. You don’t even know their name? He’ll find out anyway. Not task is too difficult for this man, not when it’s so important to him.

He’ll go out on one of his ‘business trips’ and return to you as quickly as possible.

As soon as he returns home, he’s sweeping you up in his arms. And you just know what he’s done. If you ask, he’ll be honest, he’s not hiding this from you.

But don’t worry, now that he’s here, nobody is ever going to hurt you again.

Otis Driftwood

Otis is furious when you tell him about your assault, even if it was well before you met the family. How dare somebody even lay a finger on you?

But he pushes that anger down to focus on comforting you. This isn’t about him and he knows that.

He’s noticeably gentler with you for the rest of the day. His way of showing you that he cares about you.

It’s not something that he thinks at the time, more of a realisation he has a few days later. But he realises that it’s even more of a miracle that you’re with him. You know he’s not a good person, you know about everything he’s done, but you still trust him enough to never hurt you. Even after what you’ve already experienced...you really are special to him.

Otis will actively seek out whoever did this to you to kill them. And, obviously, drag it out a little. He wants them to hurt.

If you want to be a part of that, he’s happy to do that.

He’ll find them, bring them back to the house, and let you get your revenge. Or just let you watch him work if that’s what you’d prefer.

Understands if you don’t want to take part in that but you have to understand that you can’t stop him from doing what he has to do.

That person can not be out there, having gotten away with hurting you. He just can’t allow it.

The same thing goes for if you both just accidently encounter them. Otis is going to kill them and you can join in or he can send you off with Baby to distract you. It’s up to you and he’s not going to hide it from you.

Afterwards, Otis gets a little emotional. More so than you’d expect.

He’ll find you and pull you into a tight embrace. He’s never going to hurt you, he promises you that. You can trust him, please know that. He is going to protect you.

Baby Firefly

As you tell her as much as you want to tell her about your assault, she’ll lay with you and stroke your hair comfortingly, wiping any tears that roll down your cheeks.

She seems genuinely sympathetic and listens intently to everything you say.

She is very soft with you in that moment. Her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, eyes sincere rather than playful. She truly cares deeply about you.

And that day is all about you and making sure you are alright.

But the next day, she still wants to kill the son of a bitch that hurt you and is honest and unashamed of that.

Wanna go kill them together?!

You do? Great! She’s already dragging you out of the door.

You don’t? No worries, she’ll handle it. Wink.

And she’s going to enjoy it.

If you don’t want to hear the details, she doesn’t really understand why you wouldn’t but she respects it and won’t tell you anything other than “they can’t hurt you again” and you know exactly what that means.

On the other hand, if you want all the details, she is happy to give them to you. Warning, it gets pretty graphic. But she’s proud of what she did, she won’t ever feel bad for hurting that person.

Baby wants to make you feel better after this whole awful thing though,

So you can either have a quiet night in the house together or she can take you out on the town to cause some trouble. The choice is completely yours.

Yautja (Predator)

When you first tell your mate about the assault you experienced, he doesn’t go straight to anger, knowing that probably wouldn’t help.

Of course he is angry though, he furious that anyone ever dared hurt you.

But right now, you needed his support and he wanted to provide that.

He wants you to feel safe around him. He wanted you to know that he would do anything to protect you.

Will provide a lot of cuddles.

Any Yautja would see it as their duty to kill your abuser. Not only because they hurt you (though that plays a huge part of it for your mate) but because they simply don’t deserve to love.

They’re not worthy, they’re weak, and they will be dealt with appropriately.

If you’d like to stay for that, you’re welcome too.

But he completely understands if you don’t want to see that stuff.

It’s also very unlikely that you’re going to be able to talk them out of killing them.

To be honest, it’s unlikely that the two of you encountered them anyway. Your mate probably snuck out at some point and dealt with it without your knowledge. You didn’t need to know the grisly details.

All you had to know was that you were safe now, he would keep you safe.

[sorryimanon]

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Tags: 18+, dirty talk, explicit scenes, mutual masturbation, penetration, bakugou being a switch, reader is a dom, lots of back and forth between characters, slow burn

A/N: this was supposed to be divided into two parts but surprise, surprise! i got lazy :) i had so much writing this. this might be my favorite fic ive written so far! this is a loooong one. enjoy! 

P.S this is the unedited ver. I will posting the final on my AO3 account (sorryimanon)

-

Katsuki disliked her. No, he absolutely loathed her. Ever since she stepped foot into the classroom, it was destined for there to be a hostile barrier between the two of them. Granted, all she did was sweetly greet him like the rest of her fellow classmates, but Katsuki completely saw through her fading facade and ignored the kind gesture with a threatening showcase of his quirk.

"Being nice won't get you anywhere, baka," he snarled, glaring intensely at her all the while everyone watched the whole scene unfold.

He treated her like a foolish peasant after that initial encounter, disregarding her in any way shape or form as disgust shone through his eyes.

Y/N persevered the oncoming school years despite the blonde breathing down her neck consistently everyday. Katsuki's aggressive nature towards her subsided once graduation commenced, alluding to the blossoming maturity each student should have endured before branching off into hero work.

Not long after the celebratory succession, y/n bounced to several agencies that offered the same beneficial agreements for her. None caught her attention. Until one day she received a recommendation from Endeavor himself to work full time at his agency. Of course she accepted it and immediately wrote her sloppy signature down on the contract. Unbeknownst to her excitement, a separate copy of the contract was sent to another uprising hero around her age group.

So when she strutted in that morning of orientation, she never expected to see the very infamous Katsuki Bakugou slouched on one of the many chairs in the meeting room. Her throat tightened as she took a seat next to him, his height still freakishly tall even when they were just sitting. Staring straight forward to prevent from any means of eye contact with him, he lowered his head at her eye level and crooked a half smile.

"I'm gonna make you regret for even considering joining here, extra." A fleck of his spit hit the side of her face. Learning from her past encounters with Katsuki, y/n held her tongue in hopes for him to feel satisfied enough to leave her alone.

Thankfully their office hours were inconsistent to where they didn't intervene with each other, neither of them awkwardly meeting in the lobby or an elevator. However, sometimes y/n and Bakugou would desire the same craving for a caffeinated beverage and find themselves standing shoulder to shoulder by the coffee machine.

Bakugou likes his coffee black, she mentally jotted down as she intently watched his usual routine of preparing the beverage.

Like the asshole he is, Bakugou would purposely tip the mug and let a few trickles of the hot liquid burn her hand. He's done this every single time before he leaves y/n alone in the break room. Deep down, he relishes in the strained expression on her face when he inflicts the pain upon her. Thoughts danced across his head. Some involving him blasting y/n into the stratosphere to her kissing the tips of his boots for mercy. Either way, her being so submissive and, dare he say, a pussy to stand her ground sufficed him enough for the time being. But sometimes it pissed him off.

The constant harassment by the angry blonde went unnoticed by their other colleagues, including Endeavor, leaving y/n to prepare every morning to face the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou. His verbal abuse never wavered, occasionally whispering under his breath "weakling" or "stupid girl" whenever the pair were in the same room together. One time he sent her on a wild goose chase to find a missing case file that miraculously disappeared from her desk while she was copying something in the other room. Hours later, she soon discovers the said file tucked behind Katsuki's arm, snatching it from his grip and not once reprimanding him for wasting her time. Y/N eventually got used to it. Adapting to the annual insults of her work ethics and anything he could muster up from his sleeve. Both finally accepted their twisted dynamic, and became accustomed to the work lifestyle.

Months later, the dynamic soon changed when Endeavor announced an emergency meeting with everyone in the building. Apparently a new wave of villains have been reigning terror over the city, causing major damages and fatalities in a matter of weeks. Rumors started to circulate that the new generation of heroes don't have the capabilities to apprehend this group of evil doers. In the meeting, Endeavor made it clear for everyone to be partnered up before he dismisses them to patrol for the night, suggesting that pairing up with someone who is complimentary to your quirk is efficient for when dealing with these kinds of villains.

That's why y/n didn't voice her complaint when she inevitably got matched with Bakugou. His quirk alone was powerful already. With both of their quirks combined, there's no telling how the mission will go, but she surprisingly feels safe knowing he'll be sticking by her side throughout the rest of the night. It'll be a quick mission, then they'll return back to their previous mundane duties in the office. Back to Katsuki's mental and verbal torment.

"Could you move any slower?" Katsuki barked as both he and y/n were taking a quick stroll through the public park, scoping out for any signs of danger.

She was a step behind him, careful not to bump his shoulder or invade his space. She mumbled out a quick apology and fastened her pace, catching up to the man in gear. Tonight he wore his alternative hero costume, the design made specifically for when the temperature reaches an undesirable degree. The collar touched below the tip of his chin, his chiseled chest covered with the thick black material, and his arms protected from the cold with the addition of sleeves.  

"Fucking weakling..." she heard him mumble once they circled the perimeter again.

Bakugou insisted for them to scout out as many places as possible in hopes for an encounter. He desperately needs any excuse for some action, to use his quirk out of anger. Previously, they patrolled the empty plaza of Tatoone shopping center. Other heroes were there as well, but still no signs of any villains lurking in the dark. For the third time, they met up at the center of the park after making another round, both already tired of the tedious task.

"Just our fucking luck. Still no signs of those stupid villains. I guess we should patrol the outskirts of-."

A bright luminescent beam struck the middle of Bakugou's chest cavity, ricocheting him backwards to slam against the trunk of a large tree, knocking him unconscious instantly. Startled, y/n's eyes frantically searched for the perpetrator, only to meet a pair of glowing green orbs staring right back. She shifted her stance in preparation for their next attack, blocking Bakugou's lifeless body from the villains view. Another beam shot from the darkness, only this time y/n counter balanced the blow by rolling to side, the blast missing her by a couple of feet. Y/N quickly raised to her feet and ran head first towards the dark figure. Without preamble, the figure shot multiple beams at the hero, each one emitting from the void of their chest.

Y/N dodged the bright suffocating strips of light, her feet shuffling and heart racing due to the adrenaline rush. However, she miscalculated her next move which allowed the figure to strike her left shoulder when she was distracted for a split second. Pain shot throughout her shoulder blade. Eyes drawn to a close, her hand shot up to cradle the injury. The intense sensation started to spread from the upper half of her body to below. Everything suddenly became numb, including her sensors. She couldn't feel the tips of her digits nor move any part of her face. The muscles in her legs soon stopped contracting, resulting in her knees giving out. She felt the hard, coarse ground beneath her as the darkness began to swallow up her line of vision. The last thing she saw was a scuffed up Bakugou laying face flat on the drenched grass.

- Y/N stirred awake, lifting one of her half lidded eyes expecting to see the villain looming over her tired body. But all she saw was the popcorn ceiling sheltering her, an overhead fan turned on and the curtains tightly shut. She slowly inclined her body upright and peeled the covers from her clammy figure. Still in the process of waking up, she made her way to the attached bathroom by the bed and located the sink. She splashed the cold water on her face, letting the droplets drench the clothes she was currently wearing. Turning off the facet, she craned her head to view the damage on her shoulder in the mirror. But how come she couldn't recognize herself?

Tuffs of blonde spiked out from her head. Her eyes weren't the same color either. Red crimson irises replaced the ones she had before. The injury from last night on her shoulder wasn't there no more, but she took sight at how broad they became. And she wasn't wearing her typical pajama top and bottoms. This morning she was clad in a black tank top and a pair of soft sweat pants.

No, this can't be true. This has to be some sick nightmare. Jolting backwards on her heel, she let out a terrible shriek. After screaming for a good minute, she calmed down and rested her hands on the bathroom counter, transfixed on the reflection in front of her.

"I-I somehow transformed into Bakugou!" The deep timbre voice of bakugou replaced her own. She tugged on the unkept hair and knitted her eyes shut. "This is only a dream. I'm dreaming right? I can't possibly be in Bakugou's body."

A loud ringing noise alerted y/n to open her eyes again. It was coming from her bedroom. Correction, his bedroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror one more time before retrieving the phone that was stuffed in a green duffel bag. Her eyes widened. She recognized her phone number on the screen. Knowing the circumstances, she pressed answered and awaited for the receiver on the other end to speak.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

-

"So, we somehow switched bodies because of being struck by that villains quirk the other night. How long did they say this will last then?" Y/N questioned Bakugou the following morning once they agreed to meet up somewhere in private. Right now they were sitting across from each other on a stone bench by the lake, the morning sun peaking through the tall skyscrapers behind them.

Bakugou shrugged his shoulders, technically hers, and said, "Endeavor informed me it'll probably linger for a good week. He also wanted us to not be on duty till we recuperate from this, saying that the side effects will drain our bodies." He couldn't muster up the courage to stare at her, because all he would see is the reflection of himself. "Unfortunately the villain fled the scene before the others arrived to retrieve us. They're still out there causing havoc."

"This is freaking weird."

"Fucking."

Y/N tilted her head in confusion. Across from her, Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.

"If you're gonna be me for a whole week then you might as well not sugar coat my vocabulary-dumbass."

Right, she now has to devote her time and effort into mirroring Bakugou's explosive personality. But that also means he too has to put on a show in order to persuade everyone he was her.

"Oh, okay..." she started but tensed up when realizing Bakugou was gazing expectantly at her. "D-Dumbass?"

Katsuki groaned as he rolled his eyes at her failed attempt of portraying him.

"This is going to be a long ass week."

- Bakugou grunted in disgust as he scavenged through y/n's closet for something to wear. Every piece of clothing so far hasn't met his criteria of approval to put on his body. There was an unnecessary amount of yoga pants and the most ugliest oversized graphic tees he's ever laid his eyes upon stored in her drawer. Growing up in a household of highly praised designers, the influence shifted his taste in fashion over the years. So, he made the rational decision to make a quick trip to the mall and purchase a few outfits for himself. Considering he's going to be in this body for a whole week, maybe even more, he might as well present himself looking ten times better than she ever has.

He tittered around the mall window shopping, entering store after store leaving with a handful of clothes in plastic and paper bags. So far he bought some outfits that edged a little on the fancy side, but paid no mind to his bank account. Bakugou guesstimated y/n's size during the venture, not wanting to pry or see what's underneath these restricting fabrics. He was about to leave when a frilly-pink themed store caught his attention.

It's a lingerie store, Bakugou thought as he neared closer to the entrance.

Posters inside the displays showcased attractive half naked women clad in nothing but the delicate material. Not to mention they were all posing seductively. An involuntary image of y/n flashed across his eyes, her imitating the same lustrous pose as well as wearing the sheer lingerie like the women behind the glass. Steams of heat practically blowed out from his ears, along with the embarrassing shade of pink panting his cheeks. He clamped a hand on his mouth, eyes widen in disbelief.

The fuck did I just imagine? There's no way in hell that just happened!

He must've been loitering there for awhile because a young girl, possibly his age, was standing in the threshold of the store wearing a pastel pink apron, giving him a welcoming smile.

She spoke, "Looking to shop for something, ma'am?"

Remembering back to y/n's distasteful clothing, he noted that she also lacked having any 'pretty' undergarments. It wasn't that he intentionally raided through her underwear, he just so happen to have stumbled upon the almost empty drawer by accident. In retrospect, he's doing her a favor. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Yes actually. Can you show me your most expensive set?" - "To your left! That dudes been camping by that spot since the match. He'll snipe you in the open!" Kirishima informed y/n as they both sat criss cross on the cushioned couch.

They've been playing the same game for hours. Y/N prayed for at least one water break or grab something quick to eat since they haven't moved an inch from their spots. Kirishima promised after this match he'll order some takeout for the both of them, but he said the same thing 8 matches ago. All she could do for now was pretend to be immersed in the game, getting a couple of impressive kills here and there, subsequently ranking her to a bronze level. Her digits were beginning to cramp up due to the repetitive moments of smashing down on the labeled buttons on the wireless controller. The screen across from them suddenly went dark and flashed the scoreboard from the recent match. Another successful victory.

"BOOYAAA!!!!" Kirishima clapped his hands and did a celebratory dance. "Ah, good game Bakugou."

Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.

"Kirishima, it's Y/N," she reluctantly reminded him.

Kirishima's whole demeanor went south. He chucked out a dry laugh and nervously started rubbing the back of his neck.

"R-Right sorry. Couldn't help myself. I mean, I am looking at Bakugou. Same face, voice, hair, and scary eyes."

After being battered by the villains quirk, Kirishima and Sun Eater were the ones to retrieve them before law enforcement shortly arrived once the perpetrator fled the scene. They were all under one strict oath to not mention this to the public, or else everyone’s image will tarnished and skew the potential of our future rankings.

"I know. I'm still trying to process this whole thing. I've been avoiding all the mirrors in the apartment since I came back." Y/N stood up from the couch and sauntered over to her designated bedroom for the week. She reached for the door handle but stiffened when a pair of hardened hands rested on her broad shoulders.

"Aye, don't worry so much. I bet you Bakugou is thinking the same thing. This week will be over before you know it," he absentmindedly began massaging the area between your shoulder blades and neck.

Does he always treat Bakugou like this despite that nasty little Pomeranian being a complete asshole to everyone?

"Kirishima?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Bakugou like around you?"

The red head hummed to himself at the random question, thinking of a perfect answer to her curiosity.

"The same how he was in high school except more tamer I guess. But I enjoy his presence none the less."

Then why does he seem to unleash his untamed feelings towards me specifically?

Y/N sighed, obviously not satisfied with that answer.

"Out of everybody, he seems to despise me more and more like it's a game," she said without realizing.

"You know how he is Y/N. He's very abrasive and blunt when it comes to other people's emotions, but deep down I know he only acts like that because he wants to present a strong image in front of everyone," he started. "He's scared of others looking down on him, I know that for sure. But I always looked up to Bakugou from the day I personally got to know him. So, I guess he just stayed by my side because of my admiration for him."

Bakugou is always putting up a front then.

"Interesting...well I'm gonna go to bed now. Thanks for keeping me company," y/n said once again reaching for the knob and opening the door, ignoring the red heads pleas for her not go to sleep on an empty stomach. -

The next day Bakugou found himself inside y/n's bathroom, feet firmly planted on the tiled floor not daring to move an inch. Even though he wasn't in his own body that didn't stop him from paying a visit to the gym this morning. He went extra hard on every machine, not caring about the wandering eyes men gave him while he dead lifted weights. Drenched in nothing but his own glistening sweat, Bakugou entered y/n's small apartment as he dragged his tired feet to the bedroom he was now familiarized with.

Something foul wafted into his nostrils, almost making him teary eyed to the stench. He tried to recall the last time he took a shower. Vaguely he remembers washing his body the morning before he got attack by the powerful quirk. It's been several days since then. This was one thing he didn't want to endure during his experience of switching bodies. He's been neglecting his own hygiene to avoid seeing y/n's exposed body parts. Changing out from her clothes with closed eyes was difficult enough, but taking a fucking shower?! Such a shitty predicament. But he can't smell like this for the remainder of being stuck in this body. He'll die of suffocation.

Ah fuck, that must mean she has to take a shower as well. Or worse, she already has and saw everything.

His eye twitched, lips trembling in fear at what he's about to witness.

Fuck it, I can't go out smelling like shit!

With shaky fingers he began stripping, eyes trained on anything but y/n's figure, the faint sound of the water streaming white noise to him. Her gym clothes piled on the floor, Katsuki slipped into the shower, head titled slightly to view only the shower head. He messed around with the chrome handle, indecisive on what temperature he wanted. Settled onto cold to awaken his sluggish state, he positioned himself under the shower head, goosebumps prickling his skin due to the sudden drop of temperature. Water droplets streamed down and canaled to his lower regions, the sensation relaxing his anxiousness just a smidge. He surveyed the options y/n had laid out for hair care products and grabbed the nearest one. Rubbing the body wash into the palms of his hands, he caught himself, arm mid raised getting ready to wash each crevice of his body.

Shit shit shit shit

The hand in front of him began shaking.

She won't know. It's not like I'm touching her sexually, I'm just keeping her clean for fucks sake!

As gentle as he could, Bakugou washed away the soapy residue, fingers cautiously ghosting over anything perking out. A moment too soon, he accidentally skimmed over her chest a little too fast, the tips of his fingers touching something that was hard and protruding. His breathing hitched.

I just felt her fucking nipple!

But fuck, it strangely felt quite pleasant. Pleasurable even if he had to admit.

He continued on with his previous ministrations, cupping her boobs like a madman and swiping one thumb over the taunt surface to test the waters. A fierce, tingling sensation surged shivers down his spine. An unsolicited low moan spurred out from the blonde.

"Hah!"

What the hell?! Why am I still touching her tits? And why am I enjoying it?

Finishing up his routine quickly, Bakugou snatched a towel from the cabinet and rubbed away all the sinful thoughts desperately from his head, a constant fight between his morals and neediness. Nobody will never know what he committed in the confines of her own apartment. And it'll fucking stay like that till on his death bed.

I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting

For the rest of the remaining day, Bakugou planned on meeting up with Kirishima to hangout. He wanted to coerce the red head into talking about anything other than y/n. His mind needs the relief. He needs this spell to be over with.

He can't stand trying to fit into women's jeans any longer - Kirishima woke up that morning to a chorus of shrieks. Girlish shrieks, might he add. He thought maybe the neighbors were selfishly doing not-so-holy-things at the peak of dawn. But him and Katsuki were resided on the highest level of the penthouse, them being the only residents on the empty floor. It clicked once he heard his name through the thin walls.

"Ah! Y/N I'm coming!" He leaped from his bed and reached y/n's, technically Bakugou's, room in a matter of seconds.

Y/N's body twitched to the sound of the door being slammed open, the impact rattling the very few wall decorations in the blondes space. Standing in the threshold was the friendly red head, huffing and puffing air out of his chest like he just got done running a marathon.

"K-Kiri! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up!" Her words afterwards became a jumbled mess, realizing the predicament she pushed herself into.

"Hey, hey, calm down! Tell me what's wrong. It sounded like you were in pain. Did you hurt yourself anywhere?" The red had to remind himself this was indeed another person inside Bakugou's body, because Bakugou would never apologize repeatedly for the sake of apologizing in his entire life.

Y/N was looking quite pallid now, sheepishly tugging on the black covers of the bed, trying to find the easiest way on how to lay this out to her new roommate.

"Well...I just...I woke up to - ah crap."

Instead of explaining her situation, she pulled back the blanket to show kiri the thing protruding between her uncommonly, muscular legs. Kirishima's eyes widen instantaneously, eating up the pitched tent inside her basketball shorts. Oddly enough, this wasn't his first rodeo upon seeing the blonde with a boner. They were dudes. And dudes living together were bound to witness each other's 'flesh swords', he'd like to put it.

"Oh, morning wood? That's pretty normal. Nothing to fret y/n!" He dismissed her with the wave of his hand. "Bakugou gets them all the time! In fact, I remember he'd get them after sparring sessions back in our U.A days-."

"Okayyyyy, Never mind that! I know I have a boner. Just exactly how do I get rid of it?!"

"You mean, you don't know? Haven't you been taught this in Sex Ed class?" Kiri was actually curious as to why she doesn't know nor remember. He surly does. Learning about the human body by the infamous sultry teacher, Midnight, engraved so much information into his tiny-teenage brain.

"That was considered an extra curricular class. I took a CPR class instead."

"Right well, from what she taught us and from my own personal experience, you gotta rub one out."

Y/N's whole face contorted into a confused mess of disgust.

"Rub a what now?" She asked, although she had a feeling what the euphemism meant.

Kiri's face blotched red, the tint flushing to his chest as well. The man was evidently embarrassed about having this conversation with someone who wasn't Bakugou.

"I essentially mean you gotta masturbate. Ya know, in order to calm down your boner," he paused seeing how distraught y/n became. "It won't hurt I promise you! Don't worry, it feels really good! Like, eating ice cream good! Ah no that's not a good analogy!"

"This is so fucking horrifying..." Y/N poked at the thing, rightfully known as his dick, and kept starring as if it might miraculously subside to its original size.

Kiri coughed, grabbing her attention away from Bakugou's dick.

"He has lotion stashed in his drawer," he started, but malfunctioned seconds later. He revealed something private to someone that bakugou condemned as a 'weakling'. "That is if you need it for lubricant. It's kind of tough to jerk off dry..." his sentence fell off midway.

Y/N mumbled out an "Ok", and retrieved said lotion from the lower bunk of his drawers. She felt a pair of eyes on her. Kiri was still standing awkwardly by the doorway, unsure wether or not if that's his cue to leave.

"Um, thanks Kiri. You can leave now," she plopped back onto Bakugou's king sized bed.

This man sleeps alone. He doesn't need a ginormous bed all to himself.

"R-Right! Well, enjoy jerking off- ah no I meant - I didn't word that correctly! Ah geez, see ya later!" He sprinted out the door like his life depended on it.

Locking the door behind her, y/n forced herself into the attached bathroom, the lotion burning the palms of her hand each second. Once she settled down on the lid of the toilet, she shimmied out from his loose basketball shorts, letting them pool at her ankles.

If there's one thing she learned that morning, it was that being a man had its weird benefits. - "Slow down Bakugou! Let me at least catch up before you black out!" Kirishima was on his third shot while Bakugou just downed his sixth one for the night.

The blonde growled under his breath and tugged the red head by his collar to his mouth.

"Fucking idiot, don't call me that. It's y/n when we're out in public," he loosens his grip and snatches kiri's shot and tips his head back to drain it all down his throat, the burning sensation long gone.

"Ugh, my brain can't keep up with this whole switching body shit. It's been so hard back at the apartment." He internally cringes from the recollection of y/n popping her first boner this morning.

"What do you mean? Has that dumbass been giving you a hard time? If she has, I'll give her a piece of my mind."

"Not at all! She's been a saint while living with me. Which by the way, how come you can't just live at the penthouse while y/n stays at her place?

While Kirishima was talking, Bakugou ordered another round of shots. The bartender shoved a whole bottle of Fireball towards the man, saving him in the future to not ask anymore. The young server gave Bakugou a sly wink and returned back to serving other customers down the line. Cheeks flushed red, Bakugou thinks the man behind the bar was being too nice for his liking. He poured two more shots while keeping an eye on the average looking employee. If kirishima kept babbling, he might as well funnel the entire bottle in one sitting.

"I'm just following endeavors orders. We're not supposed to gain attention from those stupid reporters that camp outside our penthouse," he takes another swing of the warm liquid. "I'd rather fucking be quirkless than mistaken for having any rumored relations with her."

"Can I ask a genuine question? How come you hate y/n so much?"

"I don't hate her, I dislike her. There's a difference."

"I don't know man. Sometimes I mistaken your dislike with love."

"EXCUSE ME? IM NOT IN LOVE OF THAT BITCH?!"

"C'mon dude, I'm sensing a lot of denial from you. Also, shouldn't you be acting like her right now? She's very soft spoken if I'm not mistaken,"

"I'm not in denial idiot. I hate how soft she speaks. I hate how sickeningly kind she is even though nobody deserves it. I hate how she wastes her talented quirk and doesn't see the potential. She's a lost cause Kiri. She won't last for much longer in this field if she keeps this up."

"Wow, for someone who dislikes her as such, you surly sound like you care about heeeerrrrrr," kirshima drawled out in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up and finish your shot, shitty hair."

When the blonde was driving back to her apartment later that night, he slammed his fists against the steering wheel when an afterthought came to him.

His whole reasoning as to why he went out in the first place, and he can't seem to restrict himself from talking about the girl he's trapped in.

Even in this goddamn body I can't seem to steer clear from y/n talk! - Izuku had to do a double take when he entered the small coffee shop. Something about seeing the pensive blonde sitting patiently in a booth by the corner really made him feel like he was sucked into another dimension. Today y/n was wearing a white v-neck with a wool green cardigan and tight black jeans.

Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.

Upon hearing the ding coming from the door, Y/N raised her head from her phone and waved Izuku over to her table. The poor man seemed like he was going combust right there. It's been awhile since he's spoken to his old classmate.

The green haired hero slid into the booth across from her and immediately started speaking Deku language.

"H-Hey Kacchan! Boy it's been awhile hasn't it? I was a little stunned seeing your message this morning asking to hangout. I'm sorry that I couldn't meet up sooner. I had an early patrol shift from 9 to 5. You might know how that feels, right?! Oh gosh I'm sounding like an adult. Can you believe we're adults-."

"Midor- I mean Deku, I called you up to ask about if you have any leads on the villain with the body switching quirk?" She cut him off.

"Oh yeah, that villain has been spotted a few times since the last attack. Of course most of my team hasn't been able to reprimand them. A few close calls though. But I heard two people from your sector got hit by the quirk! Are they doing okay?"

I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.

"That's not true. They got hurt, but no one was attacked by their quirk. I just need to know if you have any information on the quirk in particular and what to do in order to reverse it."

Underneath the table, Izuku fumbled inside his pockets in search for his mini notebook. He still obtained the habit of jotting down everything, literally everything, in hopes the information will provide any source of aide. Izuku became all jittery and excited at the thought of sharing anything with Kacchan!

The small, crinkled notebook was slid across the table, hitting the tips of y/n's knuckles.

"Page 124, the first indent I wrote. It's mainly about my own conspiracy on what the villains quirk is. That was before their first debut of course. But now since we know it's a type of body switching quirk, I tried to pin point on what exactly lifts the quirks effect on the victim," Izuku explained casually while y/n skimmed through the notes and passages. "I did a little detective work on my own and contacted the people who were attacked by the villain. From what I gathered, let's just say- it's a bit taboo ."

This piqued her interest.

"What do you mean by, taboo?"

The man began to wave his hands around fervently in attempt to steer the blonde away from prying more. But y/n swatted Izuku's hand and continued reading the sloppy inscriptions.

Her eyes popped out from her sockets.

"I have to what?!" A few civilians stared in their direction, obviously gravitated to the familiar gruff voice.

"Calm down Kacchan! Why are you so angry for?"

Y/N rubbed her temple all the while wanting to slowly die than endure anymore of this.

"Nothing. Just- Ugh...Is it alright if I borrow this?"

"Y-Yeah! Kacchan can borrow anything from me as long as he returns it!" There was that gleam again in his eyes.

"Thanks Izuku, I owe you one!" She squeezed the greenettes freckled hand before leaving the booth and the shop all together.

Still in the cafe, Izuku sat frozen as if someone walked in with gun. Internally though, he was screaming. -

Y/N: Please call me. It's urgent

It was a Friday night when Bakugou received the cryptic message from her. He was in the middle of  watching his true crime show when the annoying ding from his phone went off. For once, he just wanted to relax his mind and go on auto pilot without stressing his already strained body. It's the whole principle of Friday's. To fuck off and ignore everyone. What's so fucking important for her to text him out of the blue then?

Another acute ding.

Bakugou peeked over his shoulder to see who disrupted him this time.

Y/N: Bakugou, we need to talk. This isn't something to ignore.

He rolled his eyes and retrained his focus on the tv screen.

Ding Ding Ding

"FOR FUCK SAKE!" He released an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat, scratching his voice box even more. His fingers typed away aggressively, not bothering to read her previous messages.

BK: Leave me the fuck alone. You're to only text me if it involves with the reverse of this stupid quirk 🖕🏼

Three dots appeared immediately after he sent that. Bakugou started losing his patience while waiting for her response. He hated wasting precious time, especially if there was a second party involved. Her message finally delivered. Bakugou's eyes grew larger in size as he read the text.

Y/N: that's why I'm texting you idiot 🙄 I met up with Midoriya today and he may have given me the solution to our problem.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he typed out his last text message to her.

BK: fine. come over then. we can talk about it when you get here.

This time he didn't wait for her to respond back and began cleaning her apartment. - Feeling nervous was an understatement. Y/N felt like she was driving herself to her own execution. Bakugou being the one to carry out the death sentence. She didn't doubt the blonde would be elated at the idea of her being put under a torture device.

Okay, maybe he wasn't too malice to actually do it, but he probably entertained the thought.

Thankfully Bakugou's penthouse wasn't far from her own apartment, saving her much needed gas in case he goes ballistic on her.

The door flew open when she arrived shortly after one knock, revealing a very sluggish looking Y/N shooting daggers at her. Well, at least her body wasn't dressed in bruises or burn marks. That's a win. Bakugou paired herself with a cute crop top and silky pajama shorts. He's got taste she'll give him that.

Her apartment remained exactly the same as she left it when they both were ordered to switch residency's.  Only a few traces of Bakugou were found. Mainly in the kitchen, where all his fancy cooking equipment and utensils were laid out. Unlike him, she ate out almost every night due to the red head being incompetent in the kitchen. He almost burnt down the complex last night. He relied upon his friend to do most of the cooking in their household.

The blonde briskly brushed passed her to sit on the couch, slinging his feet on the coffee table to make himself comfortable. Too comfortable, she noted.

"Well, spill it. What did the damn nerd tell you that could help us with this shit?" He inquired without preamble.

Like a hero, she was here on a mission. A mission that needs to be completed as soon as possible, even if the mission itself was ludicrous. She reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve the mini book, and flipped soundlessly to the page Izuku marked for her.

"On here it says that the quirk can last up to a week, maybe even more, depending on the victim(s). The effected will experience dry eyes, nausea, insomnia, painful migraines, and uncontrollable shaking due to being inside another persons body. They must let the quirk take its course then," she read out loud, ignoring Bakugou's groans of annoyance. "But, for rare cases, there have been reports of one's libido being greatly impacted. The victim will be in constant, insurmountable pain unless they relief themselves, then the two bodies will return back to normal."

To her surprise, Bakugou didn't show an ounce of indignation after hearing this piece of information. He seemed almost indifferent.

And there's no denying the truth. Both of their hormones have been off the rails. Ever since the incident in the shower, Bakugou has caught himself numerous times touching Y/N's boobs. Coping a sly feel as he cooked, cleaned, and even while he scrolled through his social media.  Sometimes her ass as well to see if it felt good in his hands. Y/N was no saint either. Sporting boners every hour for no particular reason. All the blood rushing to her lower region became unbearable when she didn't take care of it. Kirishima kept reassuring her that it's natural for a man to get them a lot. But how much was too much?

He threw his hands up in the air and scoffs. "That's it? I just gotta jack off and then we're free from this curse?"

This is the part she dreaded the most. An uncomfortable heat flash roused up her face, a deep shade of red inching across her cheeks and nose.

"No. That's not what it means. We basically have to...ya know...," she paused mid sentence, too bashful to finish, desperately wanting Bakugou to put two and two together.

She shrunk in her position as the blonde narrowed his eyes at her.

"We have to fuck each other?" He profoundly acclaimed.

"Don't put it like that! But yeah, technically, we have to...help relief each other in order to switch back."

"If you wanted to jump my bones so bad you could've just asked." He leans back against the couch, arm draped lazily over the shoulder of the furniture, along with a playful smirk tugging up on the corners of his mouth. Y/N's blood ran cold when she felt the tiniest twitch down below. Her borrowed reproductive organ is betraying her!

"Do you want to be in constant pain till this all wears off? Or do you want to get this over with and never talk to each other again?" Y/N shuffled more towards the abrasive man, a strong tidal wave of anger rising within her.

"It won't matter because you always wound up in my presence anyway. Like a fucking pest that won't leave me alone." Without realizing it, Bakugou got up from his spot on the couch and marched over to Y/N, who at the moment looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel.

Another thing he hated about switching bodies was the fact that everyone towered over him, despite him being on his tippy toes. The woman in front of him acclimated his height, giving her the upperhand if they were to battle it out right now. If anything he could kick her shins at best.

"Whatever...I'm leaving," was all she said before storming off to the front door, grabbing her things along with her as she grew farther from him.

Katsuki's legs were moving on their own. His hand reached out and grabbed Y/N's forearm, halting her movements altogether. She's clearly enraged, thrashing her body back and forth to loosen his grip on her. He eventually grew tired of her stubborness and secured his grip on both of her arms, trapping her between the door and his body, producing a loud 'thump!'. Although he was in her body, he still carried his strength. In a matter of seconds, both Y/N and Bakugou were chest to chest now, their centers tapping aganist each other.  She averted her gaze to the floor, as if their shoes were more interesting than this whole shitshow of a dilema. Bakugou squeezed her shoudlers, a little too much for her liking, to gain her attention again.

"I didn't say no, did I?" he asked hotly, his warm breath hitting her collarbones. An ice cold shiver ran down her spine, causing her breathing to hitch. Bakugou noticed her sudden stiffness and began rubbing gentle circles into the tender flesh of her skin. "Hoho, someone's excited aren't they?"

Confused, Y/N furrowed her brows and backed up further into the wooden door. But her question was soon to be answered as she followed Bakugou's hungry gaze to the prominent bludge taunting from her pants. Betrayed once again by her unstable horniness!

"Guess I'm not the only one," she accuses once spotting the definite wet stain around Bakugou's crotch. He smirked at that.

"Take care of it then," his voice oozed of seduction and want, rewarding him another twitch in your tight pants. The libido was taking full effect now, any animosity they had before was thrown out the window. Past arguments also long forgotten. Their main priority at the moment was to experience the sweet relief of coming undone.

Y/N darted her hand down to the spot Bakugou needed attention from, and cupped his crotch with her abnormally large hand. Bakugou lets out a shaky exhale as her fingers danced around the sensitive area. One of her fingers moved instinctively, feeling how drenched he was in his panties, and rubbed the underside to get a better feel of the sex.

"You're so wet Bakugou," Y/N mused softly. She leaned forward, searching into Bakugou's eyes for any signs of him wanting this to end. But the pool of his irises were blown out, no tint of your original color in them anymore. "Do you want more?"

He nodded quickly, his hair bobbing up and down. Y/N chuckled and removed her hand from its previous position to the hem of Bakugou's shorts, teasingly toying the waistband. She slipped smoothly into his shorts, tickling him in the process, and toyed with the corners of his panties before moving them aside so she could have access to the thing she's been craving to touch. Wetness lathered up her fingers with just one swipe, causing Bakugou to purse his lips and shut his eyes tightly.

"Is Bakugou embarrassed? Are you mad that I have the upper hand now? After all those years of verbally tormenting me, you can't handle my simple touch?" She whispered dangerously close into his ear. During this, she couldn't tell if he was pissed or turned on. Maybe a mixture of both, but she took pride in his strained expression.

"W-Watch your goddamn mouth. Or do I need to shut you up myself, eh?" By shutting her up, he meant mirroring her exact ministrations. The petite hand of Bakugou's latched onto the zipper of her jeans, and impressively dragged it down in one swipe without getting anything caught. He reached into the tight restraints of her boxer briefs and pulled out the hardened dick. He clicked his tongue. "Not to sound like a narcissist, but you gotta admit, my dick looks pretty."

"Just shut up and jerk me off you asshole. I'm starting to see stars," She wasn't lying to speed up the process. Her body felt like it was on fire, including her dick. If Bakugou keeps stalling for the sake of punishing her, then he's going to be seeing white for days on end.

Bakugou tentatively began pumping her, his grip not too tight nor loose on the flesh. Y/N sighed in relief as he swiped his thumb over the slit, covering his fingers in her precum. Seeing that he's giving into her needs, she returned the favor by inserting her index finger inside, not allowing him to adjust once she massaged the velvety walls.

Bakugou arched into Y/N's body, panting harshly against her chest. "H-Hah fuck, slow down. Shit!"

"Take it like a champ, Mr.Dynamight."

"F-Fuck you."

Oh no. Probably shouldn't have patronized him, because Bakugou sped up his languid motions to pure vigorous jerking of the hand. A wave of pleasure shot up through her body, jolting backwards due to the intense sensation. Of course he's a pro at this. What isn't he good at?

Bakugou rested his head onto the crevice of your shoulder since he could only reach so far, and ghosted his lips on the skin, carefully restricting himself to not engage in kissing the area. While doing so, he cupped the underside of your balls, rolling them around in his small hands. They looked so big when being manhandled in her grasp. Y/N stifled her moans as he kept messing with them, all the while stroking her simultaneously. She felt him smile. The cheeky fucker! Two could play it at this game.

Y/N used one of her thumbs that weren't preoccupied inside Bakugou to massage the only place she knew that could make him cum in seconds.  Two fingers inside, one thumb attentively on the clitorous. It was enough to make Bakugou bite down on her shoulder, trying to prevent any moans from escaping his mouth.

"Moan for me Bakugou. I know you want to," she tried to persuade him with more strokes to the clit, occasionally pinching it with her unoccupied fingers. She can feel he was close. So was she. But she needed to coerce him into helping her to finish too. They need to be a team. "Say something Bakugou. Don't you want to cum? If you don't speak your mind I'm going to stop." She couldn't believe the words that were spewing from her mouth. Y/N has never dirty talked before. Nor has she gotten this far with anyone without freezing up. Definitely the libido effect.

Bakugou detached his teeth from her shoulder and stared deeply into her eyes. Pleading.

"Go faster. Please." The want and neediness in his voice said it all.

He indeed felt vulnerable and exposed right then and there when confessing his desire, but he couldn't care less. Her fingers inside him were heavenly. A mantra of ,"yesyesyesyesyesyes", left his throat as her ministrations didn't falter.

"Fuck! Keep going. Just like that- shit - just like that... yesssss." His moans were beautiful. Not because they sounded like hers, but the way how he vocalizes his pleasure made sense in the world. Every whimper or moan puts her closer to the edge.

"Are you- are you about to?" He asked quietly, as though he was afraid you might stop at any rate.

"Yes! So close, just keep stroking," it was difficult to form sentences after that, the build up tension in your stomach tightening like a ticking time bomb, making your pleads indecipherable.

But Bakugou didn't want to hear that. He wanted to her to say those three words of encouragement.

Make. Me. Cum

And then, as if his thoughts were broadcasted live, she snaked her hands into the locks of his hair and pulled him close to where the tips of their noses touched briskly.

In a small voice she whimpers out, "Make me cum, Katsuki."

Listening to her instructions, his grip tightened around the base of her shaft and began teasing the slit, never once averting his glare from her own. Y/N's legs turned into jello. It became harder and harder to stand any longer. She needed to release. She quickened her pace and brutally scissored his pussy, the erotic sounds of their wetness reverberating in the tiny apartment.

"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."

Baby

Next thing she knew a strip of white shot out from below, dirtying the hands of Bakugou's. Her body began to spasm. Katsuki didn't loosen his grip, the stimulation becoming unbearable at this point.

The coil within him loosened, the evidence of his climax coating her fingers, allowing his orgasum to reach its full potential.

The pair blacked out for a split second, but recuperated once the light hit their corneas again.

"Shit." "Fuck." "..." "..."

Silence. Then the realization hit.

"I'm staring at you and not me! It worked! Hallelujah!" Y/N exclaimed, feeling herself to make sure it wasn't a hallucination.

"Gross. You got cum all over my expensive shirt," he said, wiping away the white substance with his sleeve.

Both of them went into the kitchen to clean the after math. Bakugou would grunt occasionally in disgust, sponging away the grime. Y/N throughly washed her hands and towel dried them, thoughts stiffly empty and vexed. She broke the awkward tension.

"Well, I guess we should call Endeavor and inform him that we switched back."

He hummed in agreement.

"And we should probably exchange our things tomorrow or tonight, but preferably soon since we're going to be on duty again."

Another grunt.

"Don't worry about me mentioning this to anyone. We can just keep whatever happened minutes ago between us-

Bakugou cut her off entirely by smashing his lips against hers. Shell shocked by his action, Y/N kept her eyes wide open whilst Bakugou's were knitted shut. She laid her hands on his chest and shoved him away harshly, putting their distance at arms reach.

"Bakugou, what the hell? All of sudden you want to kiss me?" Y/N's face fell, contorting into a mixture of sadness and confusion. "You only kiss people you like. Not hate."

Bakugou moved towards Y/N slowly, a hint of a smile forming as he neared closer.

"And that's exactly why I did it, idiot," he proclaimed confidently, cupping the side of her face. The touch was so tender and gentle she forgot that it was Bakugou at first.

"You're toying with me, aren't you? The libido is probably still lingering. If you really liked me, then tell me the exact moment you did."

Without hesitation he said, "The first day of school. When you walked in."

Y/N slapped the hand from her face, her skin flushing red by his blunt confession.

"Stop lying. You were mean to me the first day of school. And every day after that. I don't think calling people a "weakling" or "stupid" constitutes as liking someone."

All he did was chuckle and continued scooting closer, eventually towering above her. She squirmed underneath him. She secretly missed having his height.

"You're absolutely stupid if you think I really meant any of that crap. I may have gone overboard on the whole berating thing, but that was just my way of pushing my feelings away, in hopes you'd improve better and not take shit from people like me."  

"Ya know, it's kind of hard to detect that when you were practically spitting on my face."

He leaned down and pecked a chaste kiss on the crown of her forehead.

"You can call me all the names you want later. Kick my ass if ya want, but for now let me make it up to you," he whispers before planting his mouth to hers again, only this time she didn't protest.

Heat swirled within her as she watched Katsuki's eyes flutter close, enriched in the moment to open them, and gripped the base of her neck to apply more pressure into the kiss. The man guided her as he moved his plushed lips ontop of hers, consuming the pretty noises she made. And my, were they absoultey rich coming from her.

I want to hear more, the selfish thought banged repeatedly inside his lust filled mind.

Y/N nervosuly closed her eyes shut when Katsuki's wet tongue prodded the entrance of her tight, lipped mouth. Letting him take full control, Katsuki managed to enter the strong muscle into her wet mouth and explored the canvernous place with such eagerness, such tenacity. Like he's been dying to do this for as long as his skillful mind can remember. Y/N found herself moaning as Katsuki grabbed her waist and forcefully collieded their bodies together, her soft breasts pressed up against his hard chest. Her perky tits put him in a trance, remincseing back to the day when first touched them, the guiltiness eating him up from the inside-out. Katsuki slithered one of his hands to the taunt boob and gave it a firm squeeze, causing Y/N to squeak out in embarrasement. They still feel fucking amazing in his hands.

"You're so fucking cute," he drew back from her, already out of breath. Everything was hitting him like a tsunami. He can finally admit to himself that he's been wanting this since they became co-workers. Hell, since the fucking beginning. Younger Katsuki would deem him as a horny loser who lost at his own game, but he wasn't a damn kid anymore.

"K-Katsuki...bedroom?" her hands found their way back into his crisp locks, futher egging him to comply. The small action made him moan.

"Fuck yes," Katsuki growled out and in a haste hooked his arms underneath the back of Y/N's thighs, hoisting her in the air to lead them into the bedroom they're both familair with.

Journeying to her bedroom became a difficult task. If only she'd stop giving his neck, the most sensitve spot out of his entire body, kitten kisses then he'd be plowing her back by now. He grew weaker by the second as the shy, acute kisses trandsitioned into full on sucking and biting. Not that he was complaining.

Katsuki threw her down onto the bed, unable to contain his smile when she hiccuped a chorus of giggles. God, even her giggles are fucking contagious. Strong arms scooped her up momentarily, bringing her to the center of the bed. Grazing her aching spot was Katsuki's growing buldge. Y/N circled her arms around his tiny waist squeezing him closely as Katsuki rolled his hips downwards to meet hers. She seized Katsuki's bicep, whimpering, and rythmically pushed her groin towards his, the tin material of her shorts scraping the surface of his jeans deliciously. His head dragged down to her collarbones, panting softly, wetting the skin from the condesation of his breath.

"I want you so fucking bad, please," he managed to choke out in between the continous grinding.

Gaining a newfound confidence, Y/N mimiced the way how Bakugou unzipped her when they were still in opposite bodies and peeled back his briefs till his inflamed member popped out, smacking his lower belly. He cursed under his breath noticing the immense amount of pre-cum leaking from the head. As much as she wanted to lick it all up, there were other things to tend to. She shimmied out from her skimpy shorts and crop top, not wasting any time for lingering touches. But Y/N caught a menacing glare in his eyes. His attention was focused on something else. Looking down, she saw that she was sporting a sheer laced bra with matching panties. She definitely doesn't remember having these in her personal closet.

"You bought me lingerie?" Y/N tried to sound unfazed at the thought of Katsuki willingly purchasing these pretty undergarments for her. That must mean he's seen her boobs!

"Yeah? So what if I did. Your sense of fashion is nonexistent. I pitied you that much to where I bought you shit with my own money."

His face was stern, scarily resembling the times he'd be bashing someone's head on the concrete during a bloody battle. But his eyes told a different story. She couldn't quite pin point the time or place when she witnessed the same gleaming spark in those vermilion orbs, but she felt safe and wanted all in one.

So she began teasing the straps of her bra, head still in disbelief that the blonde underneath her bought it, and let the material slip off her shoulder seductively. Bakugou's breathing quickened as he watched y/n toy with the next strap. He stopped her midway.

"No," his fingers were ironically cold.

"No?" She questioned him, awkwardly frozen still on his lap. His evident boner pushing up against her sex, making her wet even more.

Numbly, Bakugou pulled up both of the straps to her bra and chuckled lightly to himself.

"I wanna fuck you with this on. It's been on my mind since I bought it," he admitted out loud.

Y/N held back a moan, his words carrying so much weight to them all the while directing it straight to her drenched pussy.

Without saying a word, y/n left acute kisses on Bakugou's neck, trailing it down further and further till she reached the leaking head of his member. He became antsy as she wrapped her petite hand around the base, fingers tracing the topography of his veins. Y/N saw the desperate look on his face and took all of him in her mouth, holding in the breath of oxygen she took before doing so. Bakugou hissed, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip nearly ripping the skin apart. This feels way better and more appropriate. He prefers her wet mouth over her fingers any day of the week.

Y/N sucked in her cheeks, allowing herself to take more of his member. The tip of his head eventually hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag and choke due to the sudden pressure.

"F-Fuck. Holy shit, keep going," Katsuki begged, tears swelling in his ducts already.

The saliva from her open mouth created a natural lubricant, making it easy for her to bob her head up and down. Bakugou's ears picked up the erotic wet squelching sounds coming from her as she kept up the brutal pace, the noise alone making him want to come undone. The sight of y/n slobbering on his dick is now engraved in his head. He let out a wanton moan when she played with his balls, recalling the memory of him performing the same ministration on himself with her beautiful hands.

He can feel the familiar sensation spreading down below, his throat constricting as the stimulation of her sucking and licking becoming too much. Before she could continue, Bakugou reached over and lifted her head by her hair.

"I can't hold it in any longer. I need to be inside you now," his voice was strained to point where it came out as a whisper.

Pushing her back gently, Bakugou latched his mouth onto hers as he spread her legs wide apart. Revealing a canal of her wetness dripping from her panties to the inner thighs. Bakugou licked his lips hungrily. Mentally slapping himself for not tasting her before she gave him head. He'll make sure to explore that endeavor later.

Lips still locked, Bakugou tugged the bottom half of her laced panties aside, strings of her glistening wetness shimmering, and positioned himself at her aching entrance. The tip of his cock teased her folds, coating it even more. He agonizingly went in slow circles, occasionally slapping her clit with it. Y/N's arms were above her head, clutching the linen sheets in anticipation. Katsuki smirked against her lips at her wrecked expression.

"Bakugou please...," y/n pleaded with her full chest. She wants to know how it feels to be wrapped around him. To be one with him. "Don't hold back. Just fuck me."

Bakugou's eyes grew darker after the demand, pure lust taking control over his body now. He sheathed into her quickly without taking his eyes off of her face. A quiet whimper left her throat when he fully bottomed out. He checked for any signs of y/n looking displeased or uncomfortable, but he got his answer when he felt her legs wrap around his torso, pulling him in as close as possible. Bakugou basks in at the sight of y/n sucking him completely, her legs fully bent back in an awkward position. He decides to pull his cock halfway out. y/n whimpers due to loss of friction but gets rewarded seconds later when Katsuki rams his cock inside again, pushing all his weight onto her.

"Oh, fuck, Katsuki!," she whines, instinctively clutching her walls around him.

"You're so tight for me huh baby? Can't help but to clamp around this dick," Katsuki sneered while pumping tentative thrusts into her.

His hands clasped both of her thighs now, pulling her towards him, urging her to move in a harmonious dance with him. Finding somewhat of a rhythm, y/n fucked Katsuki back by rolling her hips, a synapse of heat exchanging between them. Sweat starts dripping down from the crown of his forehead onto the peaks of her breasts. Lost in thought, he tipped his head forward and lapped up the remains of his salty musk, tongue expertly twirling around the taunt nipple. Y/N mewled, hands searching - reaching - for anything to ground herself, settling on interlocking her fingers with Katsuki's nitroglycerin drenched hands. She titled her head and took a whiff.

Caramel and soap

A popping sound went off in her ears. Katsuki released her swollen tit only to look up with hooded eyes, his infamous smirk on full display.

"Open your mouth," was all he said before raising one of his fingers that she was so embarrassingly fixated on moments ago. When she didn't obey Katsuki grabbed her by the jaw and shoved not one, not two, but three fingers in her mouth. Like with his cock, she couldn't handle the intensified pressure in the back of her throat, gagging instantaneously.

"Atta girl. Just take my fingers like a good bitch. Oh? You like it when I degrade you huh? Don't lie, you tightened instantly when I said that." Katsukis pace sped up rapidly, pumping into her cunt like a madman, fingers still lodge down her throat. Each thrust left her shuddering for more, his hips meeting hers to create a loud song, the noise drowning out her muffled screams.

It became hard to see now, a tunnel vision of just a crimson glow. Soon she feels herself becoming light. Katsuki grew impatient and flipped y/n on her stomach, a tiny oof rocked out from her, and inserted his member back into her stretched out cunt.

Y/N yelps as Katsuki's cock hits the sweet spot - fresh tears flooding down her flushed face, babbling nonsense into her pillow.

She caves, sobbing, "yes, yes, ohgod. you feel so good. you're so fucking good -ah katsuki!"

Looming over her trembling body, the blonde slows his harsh thrusts to a savagely slow grind. He lowly chuckles watching her writhe and wiggle her body in desperation.

"You think you can just come that easy? Beg for me to let you come!"

Smack!

A harsh sting rattled her lower back, causing her to bite down harshly on her lip to avoid showing any pain.

"Such an asshole..." y/n huffed out, oblivious to the way how Katsuki was preparing for her next punishment.

Smack! Smack!

"Not good. Ask nicely for me to fuck this pretty pussy into the mattress."

More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.

"P-Please Katsuki..." she begins, frustration growing exponentially with every word. "Fuck me. I need your cock. I always needed your cock Katsuki. Make me scream out your name when I come!"

She didn't even have time to process what she said before Katsuki enclosed his hand around her throat, forcefully dragging her writhing body to his chest, cranking her head in a 90 degree angle. Cock still warming up her insides.

"That's my girl," he said before kissing her lips again, devouring the sweet noises she made.

Her neighbors were in for a long night. - Both of their bodies the next morning faced more damage than any crusade of a patrol. Bruises painted the outskirts of y/n's body, trailing from her thighs to the divots of her breasts. Katsuki paid no mind to it, seeing how he can make a bloody lip a trailblazer look.

Even though no one wanted speak much about the issue at hand - last night was a pivotal moment for their relationship.

Because y/n wouldn't be making a fresh batch of coffee for the Katsuki Bakugou in her kitchen right now.

Because Bakugou wouldn't be lounging by her washing machine, waiting for the timer to go off so he can put her bed sheets in the dryer.

They found themselves sitting comfortably in silence - the soft whipping of car horns outside her cracked window - Katsuki blowing on his coffee before taking a sip. It all seemed unreal to her. In any other circumstance they'd be at each other's necks by now, screaming nuisances in the air. She considers this whole ordeal a ruse. But it isn't. Thank god it isn't. Because Katsuki never looked calmer or relaxed in his entire life till now. And she wasn't going to bat an eye away from this ground breaking phenomenon.

Intently watching him drink from across the table, she ponders if Katsuki liked her from the get go, and maybe just disguised his feelings with disgust towards her later on. The question will go unanswered, possibly until he confides and tells the story himself, but for now she was content not knowing the what if.

"How did you know I like black coffee?" Katsuki asks, quirking up an eyebrow at her.

Y/N takes a long drag from her mug, indulging in the sweet taste of the caramel creamer.

She smiles and says, "I don't know. Just took a wild guess."

-

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XXII

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XIX - - - - Part XX - - - - Part XXI

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice,” Palpatine said warmly, smoothly guiding Padme to a seat and pouring her a cup of tea.

“Of course, Chancellor Palpatine,” she replied cordially, gracefully settling down with a billowing of fabric. “Anything for a fellow former Ruler of Naboo. How might I be of service?”

Palpatine’s smile faded into a concerned grimace.

“I’ve just come from a...disturbing meeting with the Jedi and wanted to see if you perhaps wanted to discuss things. I know you’ve been considered...close with both Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker.”

“I consider them both good friends of mine,” Padme confirmed, stomach churning even as she remained outwardly calm. “Though I’m not privy to the contents of your meeting. Is there something you wish to relay to the Senate at large?”

Palpatine sighed, abandoning his seat in favor of strolling to the window. Padme remained seated in place, refusing to turn her gaze to follow his motion, instead sipping her over brewed tea and allowing the Chancellor to address the back of her head, as he apparently wanted her to address the back of his.

“I received an...upsetting call from Anakin yesterday, regarding Master Kenobi. At the time I’m afraid I had no idea what he was referring to, only learning after the fact...well.”

Padme’s blood boiled at the cheap conversational fishing, still remembering how broken-up Anakin had been about the Chancellor’s inherently disturbing ‘betrayal.’ Not as much as he was about the prospect of losing Kenobi so tragically but...

Padme took another sip of tea. “Master Kenobi’s had a number of burdens placed on his shoulders over the course of the war,” she finally said, tone utterly devoid of color.

“Of course, yes, of course,” the Chancellor agreed absently.

Padme itched to scream at him, demanding to know if Kenobi was even alive, if Anakin had done something rash since running out that morning, but she was far to practiced to need to even bite her tongue. The back of her neck prickled with the weight of the Chancellor’s gaze. Padme gently set down the Felucian porcelain cup, and began slowly pouring herself more tea from the pot.

Palpatine abandoned his position by the window, slowly walking back to the ornate armchair across the table. Padme resisted the urge to crow with victory.

He looked at her with soulfully distraught eyes. “I must ask- have Obi-Wan Kenobi or Anakin Skywalker contacted you today?”

Padme felt a wave of relief overtake her. Not dead then, thank the force.

“I spoke with Knight Skywalker briefly this morning,” she said out-loud, allowing her brow to wrinkle with confusion. “He was concerned about Master Kenobi’s wellbeing, but quite vague. I’ve been in meetings all day since.”

“Neither of them have contacted you since this morning?” The Chancellor pressed, staring at her intensely. Padme felt a flicker of irritation. 

“I haven’t spoken to Master Kenobi in over a month,” she replied stiffly. “Chancellor, what exactly is this about?”

Palpatine sighed.

“I’m afraid Master Kenobi suffered from...a break in mental health three days ago, and this morning demonstrated...an increased severity in symptoms.”

Senator Amidala’s hands tightened involuntary in her lap. “Is he...alright?” she asked carefully, thoughts flickering with images worse then the nightmare her husband had walked in on.

The Chancellor smiled sympathetically. “Physically, he’s fine. It’s the danger he presents to others that the Jedi are concerned about.”

Padme drew back in shock as the Chancellor clearly expected her to do. “I beg your pardon?”

“I know, I know I could hardly believe it myself. But he gravely injured Knight Skywalker in his initial fit; Anakin was so shaken that he stepped down from command this morning! And now the two are missing!”

She gasped, bringing a hand daintily to her mouth, primarily to cover up any perceived disagreement with Palpatine’s narrative.

That’s not why he stepped down...he could but lying but I think he’s failed to speak with Anakin despite his attempts...and I have a hard time believing Anakin’s missing for any reason other then his own volition.

“Missing!” she repeated inanely. “And they think Master Kenobi might be the one behind it? With...ill intent?”

“It’s the Jedi’s working theory,” Palpatine equivocated. He took a sip of cold tea, staring out the window in a lengthy pause. Padme followed suit, picking up her cup and staring out blankly as the silence continued, not turning her head when the Chancellor finally deigned to speak once more. 

“As you can imagine...” he said hesitantly. “This could have severe political repercussions for the War and the Republic.”

“Indeed,” she agreed. “Extreme care will need to be taken in breaking the news to the Senate and public.”

“Then you do believe the Senate must be informed?” Palpatine asked earnestly.

Padme paused, taking a long drink of the now nearly intolerably tepid brew. 

“I imagine they’re absence from the war would be noted one way or another,” she replied slowly. “Considering they are the ‘posterboys,’ in a manner of speaking, of the Jedi part in the war effort.”

“Yes, of course. I just hate to think how this might shake the public’s image of the Jedi, especially considering how unfairly the media’s been treating them as this terrible war’s dragged on...”

Padme made a noncommittal hum of agreement in response, sensing they were now reaching the part of the conversation where the Chancellor would ask her to do something seemingly innocuous. 

“I wondered if you, as a known ally of the Jedi, would be so kind as to help me draft a statement of address? Help soften the language, so to speak.”

Padme smiled innocently. “Anything I can do to help. Of course, I would need access to the full report the Jedi wrote, to make certain I’m not misrepresenting matters.”

“Naturally,” Palpatine, to her surprise, agreed, picking up a datapad from the nearby stack. “Everything they gave me is on here.”

Padme set down the drink with a hint of finality and gingerly accepted the pad. “I’ll look it over at once, unless there’s anything else you wanted to discuss...?”

“No dear, that’s all. Please take all the time you need. I know the news might be...disturbing.”

They stood as one, Chancellor Palpatine politely escorting her to the exit and nodding to the Jedi Knight standing guard outside. The door shut gently behind her and his grandfatherly smile dropped into cool calculation, striding back to the window to survey the end of day traffic passing below.

She was more fearful of the thought of him coming to harm then harming others...practically relieved when I told her that he had vanished...expecting something more tragic it seems. Perhaps Kenobi truly was closer to breaking then I had estimated...how pathetic. When I think of all the ways he’s ruined my plans by not dying...of course he chooses the most melodramatic way out possible. I’d thank him for shaking my apprentice so severely if he hadn’t inexplicably managed to pin the blame on me. 

Kenobi was clearly in some form of death throes this morning, yet the report made no mention of such a fact...I suppose half-dead and half-mad is a touch more vulnerable then their pride allows them to admit...or perhaps it’s simply so I take the security ‘threat’ more seriously...

Amidala was more hostile then usual...what could the man have possibly said to affect them both? The war? Something more personal? If Skywalker hadn’t cut me off...I’ll need to play this delicately, can’t have him losing faith now...naturally even in utter self-defeat, Kenobi manages to remain thorn in my side. Still, he’s practically handed me all I need to cripple the last shred of faith the public has in the order. The squid seemed certain he hadn’t fallen, at least not yet, but the fear of him doing so is...fascinating. Perhaps Skywalker will be forced to kill him, well ahead of schedule.

I don’t usually typically enjoy surprises but...

Part XXIII

[kiki-shortsnout]

May I request frostiron Mpreg as a prompt? Thank you! 💜

Hey everyone! A few of you have asked if I'm still doing prompts. The answer is yes, but it does take me a while to write them, I do have a day job and restrictions on my time, plus I'm also working on my IronStrange Bigbang, so please be assured I will get to them all eventually, it will just take time! ❤️

Warnings for below: This is Alpha/Omega and contains Mpreg, just so everyone is aware! Also as it's me.....it's also much longer than I initially thought........

***

‘Sleepy,’ Tony groaned, flopping onto the couch and shoving his head in Loki’s lap. Weakly, he lifted his arms, attempting to bat Loki’s book away and have his full attention.

‘Tired, little Omega?’ Loki teased, his voice low as he closed his book and placed it down on the armrest. If anyone else had called him that, Tony would’ve torn a strip out of their hide, unleashing a verbal smackdown so powerful that it made even the toughest Alphas quake. As it was Loki, Tony accepted the words for what they were, a form of sarcastic affection.

Fingers tangled in his hair, and Tony all but purred at the attention, stretching his limbs out and melting into the couch beneath him, feeling safe in Loki’s hold.

Whatever this was between them, it was good. Loki had respected his boundaries ever since Tony had created the foundations of this…relationship. The Alpha had returned to Earth after his trial on Asgard, remorseful over his actions regarding the Battle of New York, but not quite able to apologize properly for it. The Avengers and SHIELD regarded him with hostility, despite knowing he had been held captive to a brainwashing scepter, waiting for the inevitable betrayal, but Tony had seen something different.

He had recognized something of himself in Loki. Tony knew how close he’d skirted the line of becoming a villain, how his choices in life could’ve been very different. He’d been drawn away from crossing that line many times by Pepper and Rhodey, but Loki didn’t have friends, struggled under different obligations, with only his mother believing he could be more.

Tony understood that all too well, a father that always saw reason to fault you, who always saw the worst in you, and a mother who believed in you.

Loki was one of the few Alphas who respected Tony for who he was, who seemed to enjoy the challenges and verbal sparring they had. He didn’t know if that was because of his Jotun heritage, or how Alphas were brought up on Asgard, but Tony had a sneaky feeling that secondary genders didn’t matter to someone who was neither Asgardian nor a Frost Giant, someone who was a bit of both, but not really either.

Just like Tony who had been raised to suppress his Omega characteristics, to overlap them with Alpha traits and now he was a paradox that didn’t fit into either category.

Like this now though, with Loki stroking through his hair, gazing down at him with fondness, Tony inhibited the sweet Omega form, happy to be close to an Alpha, breathing in his scent, the cold bite of snow that reminded Tony of cozy nights with his mother. They weren’t together, even if Tony had allowed Loki to share his heat a few months ago, one of the rare Alphas Tony had trusted to see him vulnerable in such a way.

‘Your scent…it’s different than usual,’ Loki said, his tone cautious.

This was one of the things Tony adored about Loki, his unwillingness to push him for more, understanding that he was terrified at the prospect of being bonded to an Alpha. He hadn’t morphed into an overbearing monster or become territorial after Tony’s heat, he still checked in and made sure he was comfortable.

Loki was the one Alpha he could see himself becoming bonded to, which made whatever they were doing bittersweet as Loki had also expressed concerns about not wanting to be ‘beholden to an Omega’s whims’ as he’d put it. It was beyond ironic, the one Alpha Tony trusted, the one he would consider for a mate held the same ideals about mating as he did.

Tony wasn’t going to dwell on it, he had a good, no strings attached thing here and he wasn’t going to ruin it.

‘Hmm? I haven’t been feeling well. Pepper says it’s stress, as if I haven’t been stressed every day of my life,’ Tony scoffed, lifting his head for more attention.

‘Do you…would you,’ Loki amended, ‘like my assistance with anything? I know I’m not always understanding of what it is you do but-’

‘Thanks, Lokes, but I’m alright honestly. It’s just board members giving me a rough time that’s all, things will ease off soon,’ Tony told him, opening his eyes and looking up into concerned ones. Loki couldn’t help his Alpha instincts, wanting to care and protect those he cared about, heightened by the fact they had shared a heat and a rut together.

Tony lifted his hand, cradling the side of Loki’s face, both in reassurance and so Loki could bend his head down and breathe in his scent from the gland in his wrist, grounding him. Lips dropped a delicate kiss over the gland, and as green eyes opened, Tony felt a lurch in the pit in his stomach and an irrational rage towards his past self.

Why did I put those boundaries in?

***

Tony ground his forehead into the cool desk, chafing the skin, his blinding headache doing nothing to drown out the words of the doctor ringing in his ears.

What was he going to do?

‘Boss, I think you need to take a break, this can’t be good for you, or the-’

‘Don’t, just don’t,’ Tony snapped, feeling his shoulders hunch, his teeth baring in a snarl. His arms came up to cover his head, protecting him from everything and anything. He needed Pepper, or Rhodey, he needed someone to tell him this was going to be okay, to go through his options.

‘Boss, Loki is requesting a visit,’ FRIDAY told him, making his stress levels skyrocket, his heartbeat increasing to match.

‘Tell him I’m busy.’ Tony jerked his head up, looking around the room. Loki wouldn’t teleport in here, that had been one of Tony’s very first rules, no invading his workshop unless invited. Pepper and Rhodey ignored it, but Loki abided by the rule, as did most of the Avengers.

‘I did. However, he has expressed concern regarding the changes in your behavior, the length of time between your last visit, and I really think-’

‘Alright!’ Tony held a hand up to stop her in her tirade, scrubbing his hands through his hair, thinking quickly. He couldn’t do this, he wanted space to think, to plan. It had been days since he’d gotten the news of his condition, and he’d come straight here, needing to work.

‘Let him in,’ Tony said, ‘and I’m sorry, for my shitty attitude, I’m just-’

‘Understandable Boss. No matter what your decision is, I will support you in any way I am able.’

‘I know, honey, thank you,’ Tony breathed out, trying not to cry, knowing Loki would be able to smell it.

‘Are you well, Anthony? It has been longer than normal since the last time I have seen you and I know the idiots you call teammates share my concern,’ Loki asked, stepping forward with narrowed eyes, trying to scent the air without being obvious about it.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Loki, just been distracted with something,’ Tony told him, gesturing with his hand at the schematics in the holographic display behind him.

‘You’re distressed,’ Loki informed him.

‘Damn Alpha nose,’ Tony hissed, turning in his chair to look back at his holograms.

‘It has nothing to do with your scent,’ Loki told him, turning his chair back the other way and bending down so they were eye level. ‘What is wrong, darling?’ he asked, reaching up to stroke his thumb over Tony’s eyebrow, trailing down to circle around his eye. ‘You are close to weeping.’

‘I can’t fix the suit,’ Tony answered. It wasn’t a lie, not really.

Loki’s gaze flickered up, taking in Tony’s designs. ‘Is there a weakness in the stomach plating? You’re focusing much of your calculations on that area,’ he asked.

‘It’s the most vulnerable area,’ Tony answered, subconsciously resting his hands over his stomach and then quickly moving them down to his thighs, gripping his jeans.

‘Anthony, your armor is impenetrable, I would know,’ Loki tried to change the tone of their conversation, making a lighthearted jab about their fight months ago.

Tony looked up at the schematics, knowing that no matter the tinkering, the redesigning of the suit, nothing he did would protect the life growing inside him. It was too dangerous, the number of times he got flung across the battlefield, the energy beams, the alien technology, the stress on his body.

He couldn’t be Iron Man anymore. Not like this.

‘Anthony, you need to breathe, listen to me,’ Loki’s voice faded in and out. Nails suddenly tightened on his knees giving him a focus point, his lungs suddenly remembering how to inhale air. ‘That’s it, one breath in, hold it, now release,’ Loki instructed, his scent wrapping around him, forming a protective bubble amidst all the panic, holding him steady.

If I can’t be Iron Man, if I can’t be an Avenger, then what am I? What use am I?

‘Anthony…Tony, darling, you need to breathe. You are safe, I will protect you from everything,’ Loki swore, his gaze turning brittle as he watched him, his lips drawing back from his teeth as he readied himself for battle.

‘I can’t do this,’ Tony blurted, feeling his shoulders beginning to shake.

‘Anthony, you are the strongest Ome…the strongest person I know. There is nothing you cannot do. Know that I will stand beside you, fighting your demons alongside you, you are not alone.’

Beside you. Not for you. Even now with his instincts going haywire, Loki’s scent curdling in the air, becoming so sour with his rage, he was still respecting Tony’s wishes.

Tony flung his arms around Loki’s neck, clutching him close, burrowing his head into his unbroken bonding gland, even as his nose wrinkled against the foul odor, the aroma thick on his tongue, choking him. Loki held him close, rubbing his jaw the best he could over his head, scenting him in a rare act of claiming, warning others away that Tony usually would’ve balked at.

Instead, he tried to get closer, sending Loki to his ass on the floor as he scrambled onto his lap, his hands fisting into Loki’s tunic top, wanting the warmth and reassurance of the Alpha. Loki allowed him to take whatever comfort he wanted, drawing his legs up so his knees bracketed Tony’s body, his arms in a loose hug around his back.

He felt himself blinking back tears, the agony in his heart ingrained in the very tissues of his muscle, aching with every beat. Had Loki ever wanted more from him? He’d never asked, taking Loki’s word for it months ago that he too didn’t want to be tied down. They’d never spoken about anything changing, and Tony wasn’t certain Loki even wanted him in a long term sense, if he would eventually go home and find a royal Omega.

The thoughts made him shake in Loki’s hold, and even the deep crooning rumbling in the Alpha’s chest couldn’t calm him, the frantic thoughts of his mind more powerful than biological instincts.

‘Listen to me, I do not say this as an Alpha to an Omega. I know the boundaries you have set, will abide by them always, but I hope as one friend to another you will speak to me about what is ailing you,’ Loki encouraged.

‘I can’t,’ Tony whimpered.

He needed to sort this out alone.

***

He’d always scoffed at all of the insipid dramas Pepper had made him watch, the misunderstandings unfolding between two characters, arguments and heartbreak that could have easily been resolved with a mature conversation, sometimes even a word.

I’m pregnant.

They weren’t even difficult words to say, but Tony was suffocating under the weight of them, what they meant to him, to Loki, their future, his future.

Tony stood at the edge of the room, on the fringes of things where he was most comfortable. The charity event was in full swing around him, people in their finest clothes dancing, swirls of colorful silk and chiffon, the dark suits of the men a gorgeous contrast. The atmosphere was bubbly, light and frothy like the champagne they drunk, and Tony was the dark cloud, sucking up the positive emotions and radiating a toxic miasma in return.

Pepper suspected something was wrong too. Betas didn’t have the sense of smell Alphas had, but she knew him better than anyone, knew he was hiding something, and he knew he didn’t have long before she backed him into a corner.

He didn’t want to deal with the issue at hand, had started ignoring it, convincing himself that it would go away if he didn’t think about it. Even as he started being sick, the constant exhaustion now plaguing him, he turned a blind eye to it all, cutting himself off from everyone. The Avengers hadn’t noticed, used to Tony becoming obsessed with projects and cutting them off for weeks at a time.

Loki had though, Tony could feel his gaze boring into his back at the shared common room in the tower, the questions burning on his tongue when Tony refused to suit up as Iron Man. Even as Steve and Tony argued about his cowardice, Fury’s threats to take him from the team, he hadn’t said or done anything, leaving Tony to fight his own battles unless he was called for.

No matter how desperately Tony had wanted the Alpha…his Alpha beside him, he couldn’t say anything. Looking down at the untouched champagne glass in his hand, he gave a self-deprecating laugh. He couldn’t come to terms with the idea of becoming a parent, but understanding he’d been thinking of Loki of his Alpha for some time had been a simple realization.

Looking up through all the crowds of people here for the charity event he was supposed to be hosting, Tony found Loki easily. The Alpha was staring at him, hurt lurking in his gaze before he was quickly able to mask it, offering Tony a well-rehearsed smile, one he himself wore at events like this. Loki’s gaze went down to the still full glass in Tony’s grip, lifting his own and tapping the side of it, asking if he wanted something else.

Shaking his head, he turned away from Loki, forcing himself into conversation with one of the sponsors, nodding in greeting as Thor walked past with Bruce, both talking happily with a crowd of fans following.

He felt like an imposter, knowing he was meant to be part of a team. This…condition would change all that, he wouldn’t be taken seriously, forced into a desk position, watching on the sidelines. That wasn’t him, he wanted to protect the Earth.

I am Iron Man.

Smashing glass caught his attention, an ominous hush settling over everyone at the party, guests drawing away from Loki, revealing him to be the culprit of the damage. His fingers were still poised from where he’d been holding a glass, his eyes huge as he stared down at a woman.

A very pregnant, Omega woman.

Shit.

Tony thrust his glass into someone’s hand, trying to escape while there were people forming a barrier between them, fear clawing its way over his body, seizing him in its clutches as he tried to escape. Others turned to help him as they caught scent of his terror, some thinking a villain had shown up as he started to barge pass, trying to make a run for it.

He smacked into Loki’s chest, the lingering magic shimmering in the air revealing he’d teleported himself straight in his path.

‘I think not, Stark,’ Loki hissed, teleporting them both.

***

Despite the rage oozing from Loki’s body, he still made sure Tony had regained his footing after teleporting before he thrust him away, trying to put space between them both, magic crackling in his palms and snaking down his arms.

Tony staggered over to his bed, taking a moment to appreciate Loki the fact had teleported them somewhere he viewed safe. His bedroom was a sanctuary that few had access to, the one place he could nest without judgement, where he had his heats without fear for his safety, knowing that only FRIDAY could override the security locks on his door.

He wrapped his blanket around his knees, subconsciously guarding the life growing inside him as he hugged a pillow to his stomach. Hidden within it was a prototype gauntlet, and he knew Loki knew that, saw the way his gaze went to it even as Tony slid his hand into it, ready to fight.

‘Did you not think I would find out?’ Loki growled, holding his ground, trying not to threaten a pregnant Omega, but ensnared by the potent mix of rage and hurt. ‘Did you think you could conceal it from me forever, ashamed of me and my heritage? Or did you think I planned this for you somehow, trapping you as mine, the one thing you did not wish for!’

‘That isn’t it, Loki,’ Tony protested.

‘Then what, Stark? Tell me before my patience wears thin!’ Loki demanded.

The second use of his surname stung. He’d grown used to the way Loki said Anthony with reverence, the loving way he used darling sparingly, muttering it against his skin when he’d been exhausted from his heat, or when it was used when he sought affection from the Alpha.

‘I didn’t know how,’ Tony pleaded.

‘How to say you were carrying my child… or how to say you wish you weren’t?’

‘That isn’t it Loki! I’m scared damn it!’ Tony shouted, flinging the pillow to the floor, his gauntlet powering up as he pointed it at Loki. He was reacting to the Alpha’s rage, refusing to ever be powerless to an Alpha ever again. Never would he succumb to an Alphas manipulation that he was worthless because of his secondary gender like his father had taught him. Never would he be vulnerable to an Alphas pride, watching as someone he considered family tore his literal heart from his chest, leaving him for dead.

‘This isn’t about you! It was never about you!’ Tony shouted, standing up on the bed, refusing to have the lower ground. ‘I’m going to lose everything! Iron Man, the Avengers! I don’t know how to raise a child! I don’t want my life to change!’ Tony growled, every bit as terrifying as an Alpha.

That was partly the truth. Tony had a soft spot for children, always had done, but that hadn’t meant he wanted one of his own. These writhing, conflicted emotions he had were proof of it. This wasn’t what pregnancy was meant to be like, it was meant to be gender reveal parties and crying over baby booties, ecstatic would be parents falling into each other’s arms as they sobbed.

Not a twisted, broken Omega who didn’t know how to be a parent.

‘Loki…if I can’t even be happy I’m pregnant how am I going to be a parent? I’ll destroy them, just like my father destroyed me,’ Tony croaked, his hand falling to his side, his bare hand going to his stomach, finally acknowledging the life inside him.

‘Anthony, you’re in shock, I think you’re allowed to feel whatever you want to. Children are a wonderful-’

‘You don’t even want me! Why would you want this?’ Tony spat, lifting his gauntlet up again, aiming it at Loki’s chest.

‘Anthony, of course I want you. I have wanted nothing else but you since I began living here on Midgard. You honestly think I care for the Avengers, for dancing the steps SHIELD set out for me? I came to repair the damage with my brother, but I stayed because you were here. A gorgeous, spitfire Omega who stands strong against any Alpha, who ignores his instincts and decides what he wants out of life.’

Loki took a daring step forward, the anger gone from his posture, his hands held out in front of his chest, his posture meek, unthreatening.

‘An Omega I would have bonded long ago had I not seen how deep the scars life had left upon his soul, how terrified he was of commitment. Anthony Stark, I would have you stand beside me for the rest of your days, longer if you would accept me.’

‘Don’t,’ Tony choked out, his voice thick with tears, his legs struggling to hold him up.

Loki continued walking, lifting his head back, baring his neck in a vulnerable gesture, showing Tony he was in control.

‘I moved slowly because I did not want to scare you. No matter how much I yearned for you, how much I coveted you as a mate, I restrained my intentions because I wanted you, Anthony. I care not about your gender, either of them, I want you, because of you.’

‘What if I hurt them? What if they end up hating me? What if I can’t do it?’ Every ugly thought he had, every insecurity came flying out and he hated himself for it. Who was he thinking about? Himself? Or the child inside him?

‘Anthony, you are not alone in this. Even if you do not wish for me to be your bonded Alpha that will not stop me supporting you, or our child.’

Tony whined, a high pitched noise of distress and Loki was before him in an instant, embracing and scenting him to calm him.

‘This,’ Loki reached out, his hand huge on Tony’s abdomen. ‘This means more to me than I can express in words, that I found an Omega I could love, that he would bless me with such a gift. Do not think I do not want you, nor or child.’

‘I do want you,’ Tony told him. ‘I haven’t been able to tell you, I thought you-’

‘Hush, Anthony. You know the truth now. Now all that needs to be said is where we go from here.’

‘Iron Man, the team-’

‘Will all be waiting for you after the child is born,’ Loki promised. ‘I will guard Midgard for you in your stead, I swear it.’

‘What about-’

‘The fact that you already worry about such a thing reassures me that you will be a wonderful parent. You have taken great pains to reassure me over the past months that I am more than the sum of my parts, and now I speak the same wise words to you. You are not your father, Anthony, and I am not mine,’ he whispered, bending down to swipe away the furious tears building.

Tony surged forwards, kissing Loki, their tears mingling on their lips, sealing them together. Loki attempted to laugh as he pulled away, kissing Tony’s cheekbone.

‘I love you, Anthony. May I please have the honor of courting you?’

‘I love you too, Loki and only if that involves lots of presents,’ Tony tried to joke, his tears still falling.

‘Of course, only the best for my demanding Omega. We shall speak of our…unexpected gift at another time, but for now I believe it is best we rest. You’ve had me worried for weeks and unable to sleep,’ Loki told him, encouraging him back down towards the bed, scooping the blankets around Tony in a haphazard nest, not hiding his impulses now he knew of his feelings.

‘You really think I can do this, that we can do this?’ Tony asked as he settled down against Loki’s side, all the exhaustion he’d been struggling with making itself known.

‘I do not believe it will be free of challenges, but I am not lying to you when I say there are few beings in this universe I could love, fewer still that I would entrust to bear my child,’ Loki whispered down to him, hand splaying over his stomach. ‘Sleep, darling, we will talk more in the morning.’

Shoving aside any rampant thoughts in his mind, for positive reasons this time, Tony allowed his fingers to lace through Loki’s on his stomach, turning his gaze inwards, wondering who was inside there.

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

If I had to pick a favourite Don Rosa story, it would without a doubt be A Letter From Home. As someone who is incredibly close to my family, and my siblings in particular, it hits so hard. I love Scrooge and Matilda’s reconciliation. I love their initial hostility, and them coming around to realize they were both wrong about one another and accepting that, so they can move on.

When I first read it, it was what really sold me on Don Rosa as a writer - I already adored his artstyle by then. I read it as it was fist published in its full Swedish translation, as a three-parter while my brother was subscribed to the Donald Duck magazine (he never read them, but I sure did!). I was mesmerized by the knowledge that Scrooge had a family, as I had never been introduced to Life and Times at that point (I was only about 10). 

Now, having read and reread Life and Times a thousand times, Letter hits harder every time I reread it as well. It’s such a beautiful story, and it has such raw emotion.

I also love Matilda as a character in this story. She never really had much time to shine next to Hortense. Hortense was always the fierce sister, and Matilda the more restrained and sensitive. Seeing her be as emotionally vulnerable, but also toughened by age and matching Scrooge’s snarky bitterness is both a sad and intrigued evolution. She bites back, and isn’t afraid to put Scrooge in his place. It is an honest shame we’ll probably never see her portrayed thusly in future comics.

All in all, I too agree that Letter is the ideal conclusion to Life and Times as most of us Duckfans do. Along with The Prisoner of White Agony Creek, I’d say it’s Rosa’s greatest story and dare I admit I like it a little bit more than Prisoner, even. I still remember seeing Scrooge cry in Letter as a child, knowing he’d always been the tough guy, never backing down and never opening up to let himself be truly vulnerable. It stuck with me, and does to this day. 

I thank Don Rosa (and ofc Carl Barks) for making Scrooge McDuck one of my favourite characters of all time. I also thank him for writing some of my favourite stories, stories I believe everyone should pick up at least once.

If you know nothing of Scrooge McDuck, and think he’s some capitalist’s wet dream, read Life and Times. That’s all I can say. And when you have, read a Letter From Home. It will leave you in tears, and you’ll never regret it! 

Hell, even if you do know him - read it anyway!

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 18

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: angst Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

A/N: so sorry I’ve been slow with updating Tumblr - my blog was shadowbanned (basically Tumblr hid my blog in searches, notifications, tags, etc.) and it just got fixed so I’m working to update here!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“You’re back,” Dr. G smiled as you plopped down in the seat across from her. 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and instead forced a tight smile. “I’m back,” you confirmed with a dramatic nod for emphasis. You didn’t know why you were feeling so hostile. You had shown up here willingly this time. 

Bucky didn’t even know you were seeing your therapist again. But it wasn’t exactly like he was around to find out. He had left for his mission yesterday in the very early morning and you were now on constant edge. You didn’t know what he would encounter. You knew none of it was at your clearance level seeing as you had no government clearance level to begin with but still… You didn’t like that anything that went wrong would come back to you in the depths of your sleep. Even if Bucky had shared everything step-by-step, any mishap was another blow. Even if everything went right, you feared you were bound to see something. 

“Would you like to share anything?” Your therapist asked, disrupting your spiraling thoughts. It was like she knew and, well, maybe she did. You really did kind of suck at hiding your emotions. You could practically feel your face darkening with worry. 

“Bucky and I learned something about us recently,” you said a bit nervously but Dr. G nodded in encouragement. You tried to steady your breathing and continued, “Our soulmate bond has been disrupted. It happened when he was part of Hydra — I mean, not like part of. That makes it sound like he joined willingly which he absolutely did not—,”

Your therapist said your name sharply, cutting off your words. “I know what you meant,” she said.

You nodded briefly, recomposing yourself, and began again, “While under Hydra, he was brainwashed and in that process, they thought they had rid him of his soulmate. But, turns out, all they were doing was tampering with the transmission lines. This means any sort of trauma or… or really emotional occurrences in Bucky’s life gets passed along to me, intercepting any, well, normal dreams. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Nothing?”

You glanced away. “Well, I’ve asked him to retire to maybe… minimize the damage.”

Dr. G nodded as she scribbled something on her notepad. She let out an interesting hum. “How did Bucky respond to that?”

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. You weren’t really upset with him, more angered by the situation. “It took him a second to come around to the idea and, sure, eventually he did but then he was given another mission. A mission he couldn’t turn down.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

Another feeling of annoyance flashed across you at the cliche therapist speak but you could also recognize the question for its worth. Someone was actually asking you how you felt about the new, and last, mission. Lord knows Bucky hadn’t.

You bit your lip, feeling tears already threatening to run down your cheeks. “It made me feel bad, to put it simply. I just felt horrible and scared. I know that with time it’ll go away and maybe we’ll find some peace but I’m just really hurt it has to be this way.”

More notes were scribbled. “How did Bucky react to hearing that?” Dr. G asked without looking up. You shifted awkwardly in your seat, fiddling with your fingers out of habit. Your therapist glanced up once her writing has finished. Her brows raised as you struggled to find an answer.

“He doesn’t really know.”

Your therapist placed her pen on her notepad and leaned forward in her chair, eyeing you a bit upsettingly. “Do you remember what I told you during your last session?”

Talking. Talking, talking, talking. Just let it out. How could you forget? That’s exactly what you had done and while it made some kind of progress, you were still stuck at this godforsaken dead end for the time being. 

You picked at the chair cushion. “He didn’t ask,” you sighed. “Besides, what good was it going to do? I couldn’t have stopped the mission.”

Dr. G shrugged. “No, I doubt you could’ve, but that’s not the point. The point is you’re hurting and your soulmate needs to know this, especially when it involves him. You can’t beat around the bush or try to sidestep this kind of stuff. Be gentle, yes, but little progress can be made if everything is bottled in.”

“Well, doc, I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’m sure he knows very well how I feel about all of this,” you snapped back. “Think I made myself super clear during our first conversation about retirement.”

“Fine,” she shrugged. “Assume he did. Assume Bucky knew everything that was going through your mind. Did it open any conversation?”

Your shoulders slumped. You looked away. 

Dr. G continued, “My point exactly. Of course, you don’t want to hurt him but you can’t hurt yourself in the process. How many people actually knew about the nightmares to begin with?”

“None,” you mumbled. And it was, sadly, the truth. Your coworker was the first to know. You hadn’t even had the guts to tell your parents. 

“I’m sure I make it sound easier than it really is but there are some benefits to it over time,” your therapist said after a moment. 

You let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re kind of annoying, you know that?”

Your therapist laughed. “You’ve been wanting to bite back for a while, haven’t you?” You didn’t answer. She shrugged. “Already testing out those communication skills I see.”

You let yourself roll your eyes this time.

***

It was nearing midnight when your cell phone rang. You jumped, suddenly disturbed by the ringtone as you laid on your couch watching some sitcom reruns. You frowned in confusion as you stretched to reach your phone on the coffee table. You weren’t expecting any calls.

You turned the screen around and were greeted by one name: Bucky. You just about yelped when it registered he was calling you -- and from his mission, amazingly. You sat up quickly and answered.

“Hi, Buck,” you greeted, hopefully sounding a bit more cheerful than you felt. Your therapy session from the morning still had you a bit shaken. 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky responded, his voice a bit hoarse. He sounded exhausted and...defeated. 

You sink into the couch. “Is everything going okay?” You guessed it wasn’t too weird he was reaching out while away but something was off in his voice. You thought you had already mentally prepared for the worst.

“For the most part,” he mumbled. “I have to tell you, sweetheart, it wasn’t smooth sailing. We… We all had to do some things we aren’t proud of.”

You shut your eyes, trying to reel in your panicked brain before you said something you’d regret. This couldn’t all fall on Bucky, it wasn’t fair. He had a job, one final job, and you were going to have to accept that. 

Regaining your voice, you said, “What… What things, Bucky?”

He fell silent on the other end. All you could hear was some soft breathing and others talking in the background. The rest of the team you could guess. You said his name into the receiver again.

“Just know I didn’t like what I had to do and I can’t wait to put this life behind me.”

If that was all you were getting from him, you’d have to accept it. “Okay,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “I-I understand.” You didn’t really but you knew after tonight you definitely would.

Bucky took another pause. “You deserve so much better than this.”

“Bucky-,”

“You really do, sweetheart.”

“Bucky, please, listen,” you sighed. “While this isn’t ideal and I was very upset you just jumped on this assignment without speaking to me, I know it won’t be like this forever, right? 

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about the assignment before leaving,” Bucky responded. “I-I knew I couldn’t do anything about it but that’s still not fair to you. You deserve to be heard.”

“It’s okay, honey,” you said, fighting back some tears getting ready to start again. “You’re almost done, you’re almost back home.”

Bucky hummed. “I am,” he confirmed. “And when I get back I’m going to make up for all of this, I promise.”

You let out a weak laugh through the tears. “You can make it up to me by getting home safely.”

Bucky was about to say something else but was then cut off by someone yelling at him in the background. He gave a curt response before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, doll, but I have to go. We have some debriefing to do.”

“Of course,” you said, waving a hand in the air like he could see you. “I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“See you soon, sweetheart,” he said. “Love you.”

The line cut before you had the chance to say the words back. You held your phone out in front of you, staring at your lit homescreen, shocked and overwhelmed. He loved you. And he had said it.

***

You were dreading getting ready to go to sleep but, at the same time, your body was practically begging for it. You were finally getting back into the swing of working and now with therapy sessions on top, you couldn’t believe how exhausting life was. As if you had forgotten at some point. 

But with that craved moment of relaxation, an unnerving threat lurked. 

You practically moved with caution when it came to your nighttime routine now. You washed your face carefully and precisely. You scrubbed every tooth again and again for a good minute. Even combing out your hair seemed to be tedious. 

It was all sad attempts at procrastination and you knew it but what could you do? It wasn’t like you were jumping into bed happily no matter how much your body screamed. 

When there was no more to do in your routine, you had to accept it. You had to finally lay down in your bed, let your head hit the pillow, curl up under the duvet, and welcome whatever kind of sleep was going to greet you. 

Almost immediately, you were hit with everything.

As always, you’re seeing it in glimpses from Bucky’s eyes, from his mind. In this instance, he appears to be located in some kind of warehouse. It almost reminded you of where you had been taken to but abandoned.

At first, Bucky seems pretty calm and collected. He’s assessing his surroundings and mapping out a plan. He says something to the person next to them. You can’t see them and possibly you don’t want to. 

They agree with whatever Bucky has suggested but before their plan can commence, they’re both attacked. Guns blazing, doors busting, a whole goddamn ambush. You’re panicking, you feel Bucky panicking. But it doesn’t last long for him. No, within seconds he’s in destruction mode, stomping towards the pop-up army - you don’t even know what they’re part of - dodging bullets and taking them down one by one. 

Some others are helping out it seems but you’re only allowed to be consumed with Bucky’s take on the situation. Despite how much you don’t want to be, especially when he… You see the glint of his metal arm rush past. They’re dying. Being killed. These soldiers or whatever are dropping left and right around him. You feel Bucky’s pulsing anger. He has no plans of slowing down. You feel the tension in his arm as he strangles another and another and another. At one point, he even throws some across the room.

They’re finished. No more men pour in. The rest of the team has stopped. They’re all looking at Bucky, wide-eyed and nervous. You feel his fury turn to shame. You didn’t know the mission’s expectations but you could guess they didn’t exactly involve this much death. No one says anything as they move on. 

The images fade but the feelings don’t. You suddenly want to cry in your sleep feeling Bucky’s distraught and embarrassment. 

Unable to deal with it anymore, you force yourself awake, everything vanishing as your eyes open. You look around your dark room. The clock beside your bed reads just past three a.m. 

You curl back into your blanket and face the wall. You stare at it for the rest of the night, heart pounding and hands shaking.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Wade Walker

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(As much as I love the vaccine scene in the movie, I tried my best to make a different “meeting” scenario)

- You and Crybaby meet at school. You’re not exactly a square or a drape, you mainly just keep to yourself which means that you both stand out yet are invisible at the same time.

- That’s the reason Crybaby never really noticed you before: he was more occupied with his gang; and occasionally fighting with the squares, to pay anyone else any mind.

- The thing about Crybaby is that he attaches himself to girls very quickly. He falls hard and fast for a multitude of reasons, all of which one can gather from his past. There’s this hole in his soul that he just keeps failing to fill …but then he sees you.

- You see, there’s this area of the school that only the drapes really go in. It’s the corridor that’s away from everything, where they put all the classrooms for the delinquents and those who don’t do their work.

- But your school doesn’t have separate teachers for every single class so when you need to talk to one of your teachers, you’re forced to go down that hall to do so. So go down there you did, and boy did people stare.

- As you’re walking; and feeling the gazes of people who aren’t too keen on you being there, you can’t help but take notice of the difference in a certain boys stare. While the others are borderline hostile, his is …beckoning, it’s like he’s calling you towards him. But that can’t be true, right?

- You quickly avert your eyes, gulp, and make your way into your teachers second classroom, trying your best to pay him and his gang no mind.

- Well, from then on, Wade Walker has his eyes set on you. You’ll find him watching you, staring from across parking lots, hallways, and lunchrooms. You would have assumed he was looking at something else had his gaze not been so intense and focused. You wondered if he was waiting for you to do something, or if he was giving you a warning; a promise that he was coming towards you soon.

- He finally does so after school one day. Like so many other days, you’d locked eyes as you walked down the front steps of the school. You’d contemplated just going up to him and finally saying hi, but you were brought out of the lure of his eyes by his gang sneering at everyone from beside him.

- That was when he decided to make his move; when he was sure that you liked him but just didn’t have the nerve to let him know yourself. He thought it was sweet; you were cute in a way that most drapes weren’t.

- As I mentioned before: people didn’t pay much attention to you so as you were going to begin your journey home, you got bumped into and subsequently ignored as your things went rocketing towards the ground.

- As you were knelt down, gathering your books, two scuffed up boots came into view and soon enough, Crybaby Walker had leant down and was handing you one in all his ever intense glory.

- You straightened up and took it from him, thanking him and shyly introducing yourself. By that point, the rest of his gang had made their way over and Wade told you his name before introducing the rest of them.

- He asked if you wanted to hang out with them, you told him that you had to get home before your parents worried, causing his gang to “ooo” at you. He didn’t pay them any mind and followed you as you slowly walked, offering you a ride home.

- Figuring that this was your chance, you gave him a smile and accepted, bringing a smile to his face as well. He slung an arm around your shoulder and nodded back at his hot rod, leading you along with him as he walked.

- You ended up in the back of the car, squished between Wanda and both Hatchet-face and Milton; Hatchet being on Milton's lap. Every now and again, you’d lock eyes with Crybaby in the mirror as he made conversation and a small smile would make its way to your face.

- He’d been telling you about the performance he was going to give that night just as he pulled up in front of your house. Right before your mother called you in, you’d leaned down to look through the window, telling him that you’d like to hear him sing sometime before thanking him for the ride and running inside.

- Boy, you should have seen how flustered you had him.

- The two of you have your first date later that day. You said you wanted to see him sing, didn’t you? Well, he rode his way right up to your house and knocked on your door, asking your mother if you were home.

- You peeked out from behind her and smiled at him before he explained that he wanted to take you out. With a little urging, you convinced her to let you go and soon enough you were hopping on his bike and gathering with the drapes to see him perform.

- The two of you share your first kiss that same night. He’d just finished performing and the two of you were stood a little ways from the party by his brand new bike. He’d led you over there and as you were talking and walking, he’d turned for a moment and pressed his lips to yours.

- He paused to see your reaction and when you didn’t react negatively, he gave you a little smirk and kissed you longer. After that, he may or may not have taken you to “makeout point”.

- And thus, you became the king’s queen.

- Crybaby can’t keep his hands off of you; he’s extremely affectionate and touchy with you no matter where you are.

- He’ll usually have one arm around Peppers shoulder and another around your waist/shoulder.

- Him pinching your cheeks, usually after you do or say something that he thinks is cute. Other times, he’ll just do it after you catch him watching you with this fond look on his face.

- Cheek kisses.

- Hard kisses.

- Making out and French kisses. Never done it before? That’s obviously not a problem.

- Being dipped into kisses.

- Him laying his head in your lap or resting his chin on your shoulder; depending on where you are and your stance on getting hair grease on your clothes.

- He usually won’t initiate cuddling himself but he’ll certainly let you snuggle into him and then slowly cuddle back himself. He sort of just doesn’t know how to express that he just wants to hold you so he lets you do it when you want it. 

- Orphans have special needs. No matter how much he’ll try to not admit it or how much he doesn’t think that he is, Crybaby is definitely touch starved. He just really needs your affection sometimes so please just be nice to this borderline traumatized boy. 

- He calls you a lot of pet names so I’ll just list a few: baby, sugar, little thing, queenie, kitten, honey, and angel, amongst others.

- Compliments. He thinks you’re the greatest and nothing can change his mind.

- Being sung to. Sometimes, he’ll just break out into song; usually love songs and usually with him bringing you into a little dance with him whenever you sort of give a giggle in response.

- Winking, teasing, and flirting. He’s damn good at making you flustered but you can make him just as flustered, just through different means.

- It’s surprisingly easy for you to turn him on; you do it without even meaning to, but at the same time, he still just thinks you’re the sweetest.

- Air kisses; you all know what I’m talking about. Some of the time he does it affectionately, other times he’ll do it sarcastically; all depends on the situation.

- Getting close to his sister and family; you’re always invited to come visit. Ramona probably embarrasses him by talking about what cute grandchildren the two of you would make. 

- His friends teasing the two of you. 

- Leaning against his car with him and his gang.

- Bridal carrying and getting thrown over his shoulder. He likes the little squeals and giggles that you make when he does it unexpectedly.

- Puppy dog eyes. Wade can convince you to do just about anything and it’s adorably frustrating.

- Having him occasionally check in and make sure you’re okay with things. You can always let him know that you don’t like something and he’ll stop it and/or bring you someplace else.

- Having to put up with Lenora. She’s constantly trying to cause problems between the two of you though her plots rarely ever manage to actually do anything.

- He always tries his best to impress you. His singing, his bike, his personality, his stories, whatever he thinks will interest you, he’ll use.

- I’m not gonna lie, he probably gets your name tattooed on him in one of those stereotypical red hearts.

- Wearing his jacket and/or getting your own shiny leather number.

- He loves being able to show you off and let everyone know that you’re together. He’s very proud of you so expect him to make your relationship obvious to everyone.

- Going to turkey point. Everyone there loves you, even if they don’t outwardly act like it all the time.

- Oftentimes, he’ll just show up at your house or wherever you are unannounced, just to see if you’re not busy and would like to come do something with him. He just likes seeing you, alright?

- Motorcycle rides. The two of you make quite an entrance when you’re arriving at places.

- Laying out under the stars together, though you’re probably more occupied with each other than looking at them.

- Drive-in movies.

- Sneaking out to see him, especially if your parents don't approve of him. 

- Washing his car and bike with him. The two of you usually end up having water fight; he’ll occasionally grab you and squeeze you against him before giving you a kiss while you both sit there slightly soaked. 

- Standing up for him. He’s all smiles whenever he listens to you tell someone off for talking bad about him.

- It doesn’t matter what it is, any punishment that you may have to receive, he’ll try and take it for you; even if why you’re being punished has nothing to do with him. He just can’t stand the thought of you having to suffer.

- He’s surprisingly well mannered and chivalrous for a drape. It may not be entirely authentic but he can certainly leave a good impression when he has to, like when he’s meeting your parents for instance.

- Even though he’s sort of a delinquent, Crybaby is still really sweet; and handsome, which is why your mother probably just can’t help but like him. He’s rough around the edges and wears ridiculous clothes but he’s nice. Your dad on the other hand....

- Since there’s always at least one girl trying to make it with him, he always reassures you that he doesn’t want anyone but you; and that’s the honest truth. Whenever he shoo’s someone off, he’ll turn to you and make sure you didn’t take their flirting too personal.

- Crybaby gets extremely jealous; especially when it comes to certain people like ex boyfriends or people who are obviously interested in you. He’ll always demand that you leave with him immediately; it’s the way he makes sure that you’ve chosen him and are sticking to your decision.

- He’s incredibly protective of you so expect him to jump to your defense and possibly; most likely, fight people over/for you.

- The two of you don’t really fight all too often; mainly because you understand him enough to know that it usually isn’t you that he’s actually upset with. When you do fight, he’ll usually have a bit of an outburst before calming down and trying his best to explain what’s got him so worked up.

- It’s easy to forgive him; especially when his sister tells you how he’s been moping around all day. He’ll approach you a bit hesitantly and ask if you can talk before telling you that he’s sorry and; usually, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek or forehead.

- Wade certainly isn’t scared of telling you he loves you; especially through song, so you’ll always know that he does.

- Even though it’s no secret that he adores you, he always gets sorta shy after he absentmindedly says things like “when we get married” or “when I have kids”.

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Ok ok ok so theres a soulmate prompts and it's the most important thing your soulmate says to you is written on you and like i think it would be a great prompt for either Kyoutani or Ushijima and it be something along the lines of I love you something that people hear everyday but would mean so much more than just "I love you" coming from them

Okay, ngl, I was struggling a bit with this one. Motivation really said nope. But! Then, something happened today, and this ended up a little longer than I wanted it to. But! It is so good. So here, my lovely little anon, have my heart and soul

Thank you for sending in a request to the event my dear

----

The idea of having a soulmate was sweet in and of itself; actually having a soulmate was a different story of whether you could actually find them. Because in a world so big and full of people, the chance of finding them was getting so rare that it was more surprising to see a pair of soulmates than it was to see a regular couple who had chosen to be together.

It didn’t help that you only had a phrase on your wrist to go by. “That sentence will be the most important thing your soulmate will say to you,” your 6th grade teacher mused with stars in her eyes, “and your soulmate is someone who you will feel the most connected to, things will feel right, like everything has fallen into place.” At the time, you were infatuated with soulmates (maybe because they held the love that you lacked), but you’d grown to realise how small of a chance you had to find your soulmate.

I love you.

Of course you couldn’t have something normal, something easy to recognise. Now you had to second guess every single time someone told you they loved you, whether you’d felt some sort of special connection or whether it was just a friendly remark. Life was ever confusing.

You settled on the idea you had no hope to find your soulmate, that you’d have to create your own special connection with someone - that made you content - because special connections can be made with time and care.

That was why you’d loved you’d met Kyoutani Kentarou - maybe it was a bad thing that you two fueled each other’s flames but who was to stop you? No one, that would be the first problem. You’d met at a volleyball camp for young kids, your brother wanted to go so your mom made you go with him; it was like you locked eyes and were instantly drawn to each other.

As much as neither of you liked to admit it, no one could make you happier than the other. He was the spark in your step, the flame in your heart, the roar you needed to fight back. You were his calm, an ocean in a world surrounded by destruction, the bite he needed to pull back. That wasn’t to say you weren’t just as chaotic - if not more - than he was. Sure, he'd be the one to start fights, but you preferred to finish them. To push buttons beyond relief.

Neither of you had exceptional social skills, but who needs social skills when you already found the person who compliments you so well.

He may not have been the reason you played volleyball initially, but he was the reason you stayed. And, like Kyoutani, if you’re going to put your energy into something, you put 100% of your effort into it. The same way you’d put 100% into your relationship with him.

Kyoutani started your adventures together and you tagged along. When he joined Aoba Johsai, you were hot on his tail. He joined the boys VBC team, and you joined the girls. It meant you spent a little less time together, but when you were together you had so much to talk about.

So maybe things started to go wrong when you started getting closer to your team and he was at an impasse. More temperamental and on edge than ever before. And that shitty captain of his didn’t help much either, but you helped where you could - even when it didn’t seem to go anywhere.

And when he was kicked out of his club, you followed suit once again, quitting yours until he got a chance to join again. Even when you were suffering, it couldn’t have equated to what he was feeling, so you dealt with it.

“Why did you do it?” He asked, glaring off into the distance after school. You didn't know why you were waiting around, but he said he had something to do, so you joined him.

“What?” You quirked a brow up at him.

“Quit your club.” He elaborated and you shrugged.

“Where you go, I go, no matter what, Kenta.” You looked away before you could see the emotions on his face shift from his typical glare to something more. Something light and filled with adoration and confusion all at one. His hand unconsciously went to his shoulder, where the words of his soulmate lay. You weren’t even paying attention. He could have sworn his heart fluttered in that moment.

Of course, he’d always liked you in some way, that was why he let you stick around - and maybe there was a deeper connection he couldn’t explain. But there was an issue: he didn’t want things to change. Maybe he was being selfish, who cares. Not him. Definitely not him.

Things only got worse when he started to notice things about you, things he’d seen before but hadn’t really paid attention to. Like the way you swayed your head in deep concentration, or how your eyes would light up when talking about something you were passionate about. How you’d bite your lip nervously as he argued with people. Even that you’d reach out and grab his shirt just before he swung to punch. You’d stand more behind him when the volleyball came around him, like you were on edge around them, eyes constantly flickering between them and him for any signs of hostility. You didn’t seem to trust them (with the exception of Iwaizumi because he trusted Iwaizumi).

Every little thing you did drove him crazy. So what if he’d fallen for you? You didn’t need to know because things didn’t need to change.

Watching you play volleyball was like a different kind of rush - you were a Libero - every movement was calm and calculated as you dove across the court. He can only imagine how it must have felt for you. And the fact you insisted on wearing a skirt on the court drove him insane.

You must have noticed, because you brought it up. “You doing okay, Ken?” You tilt your head to the side, trying to work out the wonders in his mind. For the ninth time today, he avoids your eyes. You’re starting to feel offended, have you done something wrong? You couldn’t think of anything you’d done wrong, but maybe you just weren’t thinking hard enough.

“‘M fine.” He sighed; you looked up at him with wide doe eyes and he thought his heart might melt. Then you did the worst thing you could have done; you reached out and squeezed his hand. He tried to pull away, but you wouldn’t let him - in the end, he ended up falling over, you ended up falling with him. On top of him.

Was this heaven or hell? He’d find out later. Of course he knew you were his soulmate, but you didn’t know. You couldn’t know. He wouldn’t let you know. Because things were fine how they were. And what if he wasn’t good enough? What if he hurt you somehow? You were happy right now, weren’t you? So maybe everything would be fi-

You slapped his cheek harshly, glaring down at him. “Kyoutani Kentarou-” oh no, so you were mad “- if you don’t tell me what’s happening right now, I swear to God.” He cringed away. By trying not to hurt you, he’d hurt you - who could have predicted this would happen?

What would the consequences be if he told you how he felt? Maybe you’d be happy, or maybe you’d be mad. He’d be putting everything on the line right now. But the way you looked at him - almost darkly, some sadness, but most of all confusion and anger. It made his heart stung.

Before he could think more, his mouth worked faster than his mind, “I love you!” He almost yelled it out, he was staring directly in your eyes; he got to watch your emotions shift. It was like you went through the five stages of grief: denial (in the form of confusion), anger (your brows furrowed together and knuckles turned white), bargaining (your eyes pleaded with him to change his mind, or the words he used, or anything), depression (you pulled in on yourself, he could feel all your muscles tense), and then there was a pause, your face went blank, you were searching his eyes for something - anything - and you seemed to find it. Acceptance: you wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

You could never be sure whether he was actually your soulmate, but something about that look in his eyes told you he meant it. No if’s, and’s or but’s. His heart was yours, and yours his. Wherever he went, you followed.

The only time you didn’t follow him was when you walked down the aisle.

----

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[woman-loving]

Lesbian Unintelligibility in Pre-1989 Poland

Selection from ""No one talked about it": The Paradoxes of Lesbian Identity in pre-1989 Poland, by Magdalena Staroszczyk, in Queers in State Socialism: Cruising 1970s Poland, eds. Tomasz Basiuk and Jędrzej Burszta, 2021

The question of lesbian visibility is pertinent today because of the limited number of lesbian-oriented activist events and cultural representations. But it presents a major methodological problem when looking at the past. That problem lies in an almost complete lack of historical sources, something partly mended with oral history interviews, but also in an epistemological dilemma. How can we talk about lesbians when they did not exist as a recognizable category? What did their (supposed) non-existence mean? And should we even call those who (supposedly) did not exist “lesbians”?

To illustrate this problem, let me begin with excerpts from an interview I conducted for the CRUSEV project [a study of queer cultures in the 1970s]. My interlocutor is a lesbian woman born in the 1950s, who lived in Cracow most of her life:

“To this very day I have a problem with my brothers, as I cannot talk to them about this. They just won’t do it, I would like to talk, but. . . . They have this problem, they lace up their mouths when any reference is made to this topic, because they were raised in that reality [when] no one talked about it. It was a taboo. It still is. ... I was so weak, unable to take initiative, lacking a concept of my own life—all this testifies to the oppression of homosexual persons, who do not know how to live, have no support from [others], no information or knowledge learned at school, or from a psychologist. What did I do? I searched in encyclopaedias for the single entry, “homosexuality.” What did I learn? That I was a pervert. What did it do to me? It only hurt me, no? Q: Was the word lesbian in use? Only as a slur. Even my mother used it as an offensive word. When she finally figured out my orientation, she said the word a few times. With hatred. Hissing the word at me.”

The woman offers shocking testimony of intense and persistent hostility towards a family member—sister, daughter—who happens to be a lesbian. The brothers and the mother are so profoundly unable to accept her sexuality that they cannot speak about it at all, least of all rationally. The taboo has remained firmly in place for decades. How was it maintained? And, perhaps more importantly, how do we access the emotional reality that it caused? The quotes all highlight the theme of language, silence, and something unspeakable. Tabooization implies a gap in representation, and the appropriate word cannot be spoken but merely hissed out with hatred.

Popular discourse and academic literature alike address this problem under the rubric of “lesbian invisibility” (Mizielińska 2001). I put forward a different conceptual frame, proposing to address the question of lesbian identity in pre-1989 Poland not in terms of visibility versus invisibility, but instead in terms of cultural intelligibility versus unintelligibility. The former concepts, which have a rich history in discussions of pre-emancipatory lesbian experience, presume an already existing identity that is self-evident to the person in question. They assume the existence of a person who thinks of herself as a lesbian. One then proceeds to ask whether or not this lesbian was visible as such to others, that is, whether others viewed her as the lesbian she knew she was. Another assumption behind this framing is that the woman in question wished to be visible although this desired visibility had been denied her. These are some of the essentializing assumptions inscribed in the concept of (in)visibility. Their limitation is that they only allow us to ask whether or not the lesbian is seen for who she feels she is and wishes to be seen by others.

By contrast, (un)intelligibility looks first to the social construction of identity, especially to the constitutive role of language. To think in those terms is to ask under what conditions same-sex desire between women is culturally legible as constitutive of an identity. So, instead of asking if people saw lesbians for who they really were, we will try to understand the specific epistemic conditions which made some women socially recognizable to others, and also to themselves, as “lesbians.” This use of the concept “intelligibility” is analogous to its use by Judith Butler in Gender Trouble, as she explains why gender conformity is key to successful personhood[...].

For Butler, cultural intelligibility is thus an aspect of the social norm, as it corresponds to “a normative ideal.” It is one of the conditions of coherence and continuity requisite for successful personhood. In a similar vein, to say that lesbians in the People’s Republic of Poland were not culturally intelligible is of course not to claim that there were no women engaged in same-sex romantic and erotic relationships—such a conclusion would be absurd, as well as untrue. It is, rather, to suggest that “lesbian” was not a category of personhood available or, for that matter, desirable to many nonheteronormative women. The word was not in common use and it did not signify to them the sort of person they felt they were. Nor was another word readily available, as interlocutors’ frequent periphrases strongly suggest, for example, “I cannot talk to them about this. ... They ... lace up their mouths when any reference is made to this topic” (my emphases).

Interviews conducted with women for the CRUSEV project are filled with pain due to rejection. So are the interviews conducted by Anna Laszuk, whose Dziewczyny, wyjdźcie z szafy (Come Out of the Closet, Girls! 2006 ) was a pioneering collection of herstories which gave voice to non-heteronormative Polish women of different ages, including those who remember the pre-1989 era. Lesbian unintelligibility is arguably a major theme in the collection. The pain caused by the sense of not belonging expressed by many illustrates that being unintelligible can be harmful. At the same time, unintelligibility had some practical advantages. The main among them was relative safety in a profoundly heteronormative society. As long as things went unnamed, a women-loving woman was not in danger of stigmatization or social ostracism.

Basia, born in 1939 and thus the oldest among Laszuk’s interviewees, offers a reassuring narrative in which unintelligibility has a positive valence:

“I cannot say a bad word about my parents. They knew but they did not comment. . . . My parents never asked me personal questions, never exerted any kind of pressure on me to get married. They were people of great culture, very understanding, and they quite simply loved me. They would meet my various girlfriends, but these were never referred to as anything but “friends” (przyjaciółki). Girls had it much easier than boys because intimacy between girls was generally accepted. Nobody was surprised that I showed up with a woman, invited her home, held her hand, or that we went on trips together.” (Laszuk 2006, 27)

The gap between visceral knowing and the impossibility of naming is especially striking in this passage. The parents “knew” and Basia knew that they knew, but they did not comment, ask questions, or make demands, and Basia clearly appreciates their silence as a favour. To her, it was a form of politeness, discreetness, perhaps even protectiveness. The silence was, in fact, a form of affectionate communication: “they quite simply loved me.”

Another of Laszuk’s interviewees is Nina, born around 1945 and 60 years old at the time of the interview. With a certain nostalgia, Nina recalls the days when certain things were left unnamed, suggesting that there is erotic potential in the unintelligibility of women’s desire. Laszuk summarizes her views:

“Nina claims that those times certainly carried a certain charm: erotic relationships between women, veiled with understatement and secrecy, had a lot of beauty to them. Clandestine looks were exchanged above the heads of people who remained unaware of their meaning, as women understood each other with half a gesture, between words. Nowadays, everything has a name, everything is direct.” (Laszuk 2006, 33)

A similar equation between secrecy and eroticism is drawn by the much younger Izabela Filipiak, trailblazing author of Polish feminist fiction in the 1990s and the very first woman in Poland to publicly come out as lesbian, in an interview for the Polish edition of Cosmopolitan in 1998. Six years later, Filipiak suggested a link between things remaining unnamed and erotic pleasure, and admitted to a certain nostalgia for this pre-emancipatory formula of lesbian (non)identity. Her avowed motivation was not the fear of stigmatization but a desire for erotic intensity:

“When love becomes passion in which I lose myself, I stop calculating, stop comparing, no longer anchor it in social relations, or some norm. I simply immerse myself in passion. My feelings condition and justify everything that happens from that point on. I do not reflect upon myself nor dwell on stigma because my feeling is so pure that it burns through and clears away everything that might attach to me as a woman who loves women.” (Kulpa and Warkocki 2004)

Filipiak acknowledges the contemporary, “postmodern” (her word) lesbian identity which requires activism and entails enumerating various kinds of discrimination. But paradoxically—considering that she is the first public lesbian in Poland—she speaks with much more enthusiasm about the “modernist lesbians” described by Baudelaire:

“They chose the path of passion. Secrecy and passion. Of course, their passion becomes a form of consent to remain secret, to stay invisible to others, but this is not unambivalent. I once talked to such an “oldtimer” who lived her entire life in just that way and she protested very strongly when I made a remark about hiding. Because, she says, she did not hide anything, she drove all around the city with her beloved and, of course, everyone knew. Yes, everyone knew, but nobody remembers it now, there is no trace of all that.” (Kulpa and Warkocki 2004)

Cultural unintelligibility causes the gap between “everyone knew” and “nobody remembers” but it is also the source of excitement and pleasure. For Filipiak’s “old-timer” and her predecessors, Baudelaire’s modernist lesbians, the evasion, or rejection, of identity and the maintaining of secrecy is the path of passion. Crucially, these disavowals of identity mobilize a discourse of freedom rather than hiding, entrapment, or staying in the closet. The lack of a name is interpreted as an unmooring from language and a liberation from its norms.

Needless to say, cultural unintelligibility may also lead to profound torment and self-hatred. In the concept of nationhood generated by nationalists and by the Catholic Church in Poland, lesbians (seen stereotypically) are double outsiders whose exclusion from language is vital.[1] A repentant homosexual woman named Katarzyna offers her testimony in a Catholic self-help manual addressing those who wish to be cured of homosexuality. (It is irrelevant for my purpose whether the testimony is authentic; my interest is in the discursive construction of lesbian identity as literally impossible and nonexistent.) Katarzyna speaks about her search for love, her profound sense of guilt and her disgust with herself. The word “lesbian” is never used; her homosexuality is framed as confusion and as straying from her true desire for God. The origin of the pain is the woman’s unintelligibility to herself:

“Only I knew how much despair there was in my life on account of being different. First, there was the sense of being torn apart when I realized how different my desires were from the appearance of my body. Despite the storm of homosexual desire, I was still a woman. Then, the question: What to do with myself? How to live?” (Huk 1996, 121)

A woman cannot love other women—the subject knows this. We can speculate that her knowledge is due to her Catholic upbringing; she has internalized the teaching that homosexuality is a sin, and thus untrue and not real. The logic of the confession is overdetermined: the only way for her to become intelligible to herself is to abandon same-sex desire and turn to God, and through him to men. Church language thus frames homosexuality as chaos: it is a disordered space where no appropriate language can obtain. Within this frame, unintelligibility is anything but erotic. It is rather an instrument of shaming and, once internalized, a symptom of shame.

For many, the experience of unintelligibility is moored in intense heteronormativity, without regard to Church teachings or the language of national belonging. Struggling with the choice between social intelligibility available to straights and leading an authentic life outside the realm of intelligibility, one CRUSEV interlocutor, aged 67, describes her youth in 1960s and 1970s:

“I always knew I was a lesbian ... and if I am one, then I will be one. Yes, in that sense. And not to live the life of a married woman, mother and so on. This life wasn’t my life at all. However, as I said, it was fine in an external sense. So calm and well-ordered: a husband, nice children, everything, everything. But it was external, and my life was not my life at all, it wasn’t me.”

She thus underscores her internal sense of dissonance, a felt incompatibility with the social role she was playing. The role model of a wife and mother was available to her, but a lesbian role model was not.

The discomfort felt at the unavailability of a role model may have had different consequences. Another CRUSEV interviewee, aged 62, describes her impulse to change her life so as to authentically experience her feelings for another woman, in contrast to that woman’s ex:

“She visited me a few times, and it was enough that I wrote something, anything ... [and] she would get on the train and travel across the country. There were no telephones then, during martial law. Regardless of anything, she would be there. And at one point I realized that I ... damn, I loved her. ... She broke up with her previous girlfriend very violently—this may interest you—because it turned out that the girl was so terribly afraid of being exposed and of some unimaginable consequences that she simply ran away.”

The fear of exposure, critically addressed by the interlocutor, was nonetheless something she, too, experienced. She goes on to speak of “hiding a secret” and “stifling” her emotions.

A concern with leading an inauthentic life resurfaces in the account of the afore-quoted woman, aged 67:

“I couldn’t reveal my secret to anyone. The only person who knew was my friend in Cracow. I led such a double life, I mean. ... It is difficult to say if this was a life, because it was as if I had my inner spirituality and my inner world, entirely secret, but outside I behaved like all the other girls, so I went out with some boys. ... It was always deeply suppressed by me and I was always fighting with myself. I mean, I fell in love [with women] and did everything to fall out of love [laughter]. On and on again.”

Her anxiety translates into self-pathologizing behaviour:

“In 1971 I received my high school diploma and I was already . . . in a relationship of some years with my high school girlfriend. . . . But because we both thought we were abnormal, perverted or something, somehow we wanted to be cured, and so she was going to college to Cracow, and I to Poznań. We engaged in geographic therapy, so to speak.”

The desire to “be cured” from homosexuality recurs in a number of interviews. Sometimes it has a factual dimension, as interlocutors describe having undergone psychotherapy and even reparative therapy—of course, to no avail.

Others decide to have a relationship with a woman after years spent in relationships with men. Referring to her female partner of 25 years, who had previously been married to a man, one of my interlocutors suggests that her partner had been disavowing her homosexual desires for many years before the two women’s relationship began: “the truth is that H. had struggled with it for more than 20 years and she was probably not sure what was going on.” Despite this presumed initial confusion, the women’s relationship had already lasted for more than 25 years at the time I conducted the interview.

Recognizing one’s homosexual desires did not necessarily have to be difficult or shocking. It was not for this woman, aged 66 at the time of the interview:

“It was obvious to me. I didn’t, no, no, I didn’t suppress it, I knew that [I was going], “Oh, such a nice girl, I like this one, with this one I want to be close, with that one I want to talk longer, with that one I want to spend time, with that one I want, for example, to embrace her neck or grab her hand”.”

Rather, what came as a shock was the unavailability of any social role or language corresponding to this felt desire that came as a shock. The woman continues:

“It turned out that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, that I couldn’t tell anyone. I realized this when I grew up and watched my surroundings, family, friends, society. I saw that this topic was not there! If it’s not there, how can I get it out of myself? I wasn’t so brave.”

The tabooization of homosexuality—its unintelligibility—is a recurring thread in these accounts; what varies is the extent to which it marred the subjects’ self-perception.