#anyway on the side while I manage the days and presents etc I am also my little brother's wing woman

[balkanballad]

literally born to be an older sister but also born to be an older sister tm

[wyldblunt]

im obsessed with glyn & canach and i must know more about them

for the ship questions, if you don’t mind answering:

pre-relationship: 1, 2, & 4

general: 1, 3, & 8

omg thank u im so glad u like them... (original ship asks here!)

pre-relationship 1: How did they first meet?

[RUBBING MY HANDS TOGETHER] YAY I LOVE THEIR MEETCUTE

okay so in our canon glyndwr is not involved in any of the southsun stuff at all — that goes to my wife's commander, alan. glyn was getting poked about "consortium issues, karka acting funny, blah blah" and was essentially like "this is so below my pay grade that i will fucking cut your head off if you ever insult me with a brief like this ever again" and that was that. SO he's more or less oblivious to it outside of alan's letters ("ugh this GUY, we finally got him, so hopped up on painkillers he couldn't even see, there's karka goop everywhere," etc) and the occasional wanted poster here and there

(side note this is the setup for alan and canach's insane hostility during heart of thorns. you throw me in jail? okay, Hero of Tyria, i'm out now and i am going to steal your fucking boyfriend about it)

ANYWAY. post-southsun. as a whispers lightbringer glyndwr had managed to stay mostly anonymous for most of his career, but zhaitan's defeat has blown that into fucking smithereens. suddenly he's just as famous as alan and trahearne and it is making him want to turn himself inside out. running errands is now impossible. one day he's essentially fleeing the paparazzi in lion's arch and while trying to lose them finds himself hiding out where canach is imprisoned.

they get to talking through the bars, glyn smokes him out (something he can get away with as a pact commander even with multiple lionguards looking Directly At Them), and before he knows it glyn is coming back regularly, telling canach about what he's seen on his travels lately and sometimes even bringing him books. it gets to the point where sometimes glyndwr spends all day by canach's cell. the rest is history!!

2: What was their first impression of each other?

canach about glyn: "oh, thank fuck, someone to TALK to. and he's eye candy which is a bonus"

glyn about canach: "[with narrowed eyes] this horrid little man is being rude and flippant to me. no one is rude and flippant to me anymore. what is going on" <- intensely intrigued (and then, a bit later when his memory is jogged: "oh, wait, this horrid little man is the one who tried to explode my lover with land mines on a resort island." <-even more intrigued)

4: Who felt romantic feelings first?

i think they both fell for each other pretty steadily, but canach is definitely the one who recognizes his feelings as such first. glyndwr is too self-obsessed and emotionally withered to Get It until way later.

general 1: Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

depends on what's meant by "the relationship," but i have an answer locked and loaded specifically for them being officially entwined so i'm going with that!!

i already have a headcanon that sylvari present weapons as significant romantic gifts, on par with proposing with an engagement ring; this was, coincidentally enough, kicked off by the shield of the moon story!

so, at the end of HoT, when canach offers his shield to glyndwr — already a pretty massive gesture as it is — glyndwr misinterprets it, and they have a frantic little "i'm sorry, do you really want to do this NOW?? RIGHT NOW???" conversation shoehorned into the middle of the terrifying battle for their lives and also the lives of their entire race.

later, when they talk about it more seriously, they end up deciding that yeah, maybe canach actually did mean it that way. so what. what are you going to do about it, idiot. let's just get married. fine. FINE

3: What was their first kiss like?

it depends on if you consider shotgunning to be kissing. if so,

but if not, it was probably something messy and near-accidental in the silverwastes. sandy. not pleasant. not discussed for many many months.

8: Who gets jealous easier?

canach for sure but mostly just bc glyn presents more opportunities for it. i don't imagine they're strictly monogamous (rytlock is certainly popping in and out around here) but like. glyndwr is at constant risk of slipping on a banana peel and accidentally having sex with anyone who is relatively firm/respectful (/charmingly disrespectful?) with him. glyn goes out to buy a carton of milk and through a comedy of errors gets his back blown out four times on the way there and back. glyn somehow managed to fuck ruka the wanderer. it's an affliction

[queenperri]

Super Mario Bros: Princess Placeholders

Characters: Mario, Luigi, Bowser, Peach, Toadette, Original Side and Main Characters

Genre/Themes: Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life w/ Overarching plot, Post-Super Mario Bros Movie

Additional Info: Bisexual Mario, Mix up of Mario Characters from all game series (Paper Mario Etc), Peach is written as a combo between paper Peach and movie Peach.

Summary:

After finally setting up and settling down in the Mushroom Kingdom with his brother Luigi life has been smooth sailing. For the most part anyway, there's still a lot to get used to after his first whirlwind adventure on the superstar continent; like being considered a hero to the masses!

For now Mario is content in his little home with his little brother and a simple life. With Bowser locked away, and a new position as lead plumbers life couldn't be better for the Mario Bros!

At least; that was until all the leaders of the Superstar Continent were called to a last minute meeting. Now Peach has entrusted the Mario Bros and the Toads to keep the kingdom running smoothly while she's away.

Will they manage to keep the kingdom in working order long enough?

Can Mario push past his overwhelming self-doubt?

How many of Peach's dresses can Luigi wear before Toadette just gifts him one?

Push it to the present with Mario and Friends in this slice of life fic!

(Part of an overarching series; updated when I feel like I have a good amount written.)

With squinted eyes he looked at the paper in front of him in the dimly lit room. Her handwriting; elegant in the manner only a princess would be carefully trained to do. Mario rubbed his temples as he pulled the fire flower on his desk ever closer in order to better survey the notes writing. 

Dear Mario,

She always started like that,

Thank you for taking on the kingdom during Toadsworth and I’s extended absence. I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, the meeting between all leaders of the Superstar Continent was swiftly called. 

The toads are usually capable of taking care of the kingdoms affairs without my heed for short periods of time; but considering these gatherings take so long (and since Toadsworth this time is so insistent on joining me) I am trusting you to take heed of the kingdom in my place. Dras T. and Toadette will be there to help and guide you. There shouldn’t be too much excitement as your tasks will be simple and pre-prepped due to my planning ahead. I’ve also arranged rooms for both you and Luigi at the castle. 

You are a very capable person Mario, do not forget that. 

I’ll be sure to bring both you and Luigi souvenirs from my travels. 

Yours truly,

Princess Toadstool Peach

Mario chuckled to himself: his eyes followed the way the princess’s well drawn cursive sign off was intercepted by the much stronger font of the Peach written in that glitter pink pen he had brought her from his occasional trips back home. 

He’d taken to reading the letter every night; it was grounding in a way, it reminded him why he’d been put in charge in the first place. He was capable, and if Peach believed that then he’d simply have to prove her right. 

A week had already gone by without a hitch. Everyday a meeting was held with all the high ranking toads of the kingdom; and usually Dras. T with his ever serious voice; led those without a fuss. 

Then there were rounds about the kingdom that usually culminated in Mario and Luigi doing the odd plumbing and mechanic job when needed. 

And after all that; all that was left to do was to simply log any changes that occurred in the kingdom that day in that big ol’ book in the first floor library. 

Simple; easy work, Luigi had likened it to being “glorified custodians”

Mario was just glad Peach trusted them enough to even do this in the first place. Letting them stay in the castle was a nice gesture; even if the distance between him and his brother's rooms was a little disconcerting. 

Okay maybe not just a little…

There was a reason Mario was up so late after all; and it wasn’t cause of the dimensional time zone differences (he’d long since gotten over that)

The real problem? It was quiet.

Horribly; horribly quiet!

See, Peach had set the brothers up with separate rooms. It wasn’t a big deal really; it was good actually, it saved Mario from Luigi’s terrible snoring! 

Yet at the same time, well, it meant Mario was forced to face the one thing he hated more than anything else. Quiet. 

It was an adjustment when they moved to the Mushroom kingdom. No longer was Mario’s ears met with the sound of New York city nightlife; no more whooping of police sirens echoing through the streets. No more clanking of garbage trucks hitting the manhole lids with a furious thunk. No more of that constant mechanical low drone that seemed to come from no place in particular or that wonderful noise of cars driving by; as the lights faded out and past the cracks of the blinds of the apartment. 

Mario had never noticed the noise before; not until it was taken away and replaced with quiet. 

Luigi’s snoring had turned from that of annoyance to comfort in a matter of days; and all because the Mushroom Kingdom was not nearly as alive in the night as New York was. The mushroom kingdom slept soundly in natural silence. That was not something Mario was very fond of.

In silence came thoughts; and in those thoughts came that sickening feeling that something was terribly terribly wrong. The worry that maybe his life had really been a dream; that he’d wake up in that shared apartment in Brooklyn with his family; back at square one with nothing to prove. 

Mario shook his head rapidly; no, this was real, and Mario was capable; maybe not at getting any proper amount of sleep, but he was plenty good at everything else! 

Just another week or two of playing glorified custodian: just another week or two of having to constantly fix Bowser's tiny, tiny piano; another week or two of a silent castle and then he could go back to a snoring brother and a delightfully small house that they had tucked away in the corner of the Mushroom Kingdom. Just another week or two and Peach comes back and everything goes back to normal. 

-

“How'd you manage to do that!?” Luigi wore an exasperated look. Mario merely reached his hand out to his brother, looking not nearly as surprised as he should be. You’d think after all these years dealing with artifacts the Toads would be a little less clumsy.

“Lemme see that Lu.” 

A staff; clearly ceremonial, bent in a 90 degree angle. It was a pretty thing to; dazzled to the nines in large jewels. The orb on top though, it certainly was… gaudy. 

“I’m uh right to assume this isn’t what it’s supposed to look like yeah?” 

The two toads in front of them looked down sheepishly,

“It was an accident really!”

“Do ya think she’ll notice?”

Fiddling with the staff in his hand; Mario surveyed the damage, “That her staff’s been turned into a venerated boomerang, eh probably.” The good thing was that the staff itself was made of some kind of lightweight metal; “We can take this back to our house and reshape it using some of our tools, easy fix overall.” 

“Oh yeah, easy easy fix” Luigi gave the toads a thumbs up.

Mario watched as the toads breathed a visible sigh of relief, 

“Oh thank the stars…”

“That would’ve the 3rd staff this month.”

Seriously, what did the Toads do with these things???

As the toads walked off to their respective tasks Mario and Luigi were left alone in the castle's foyer. Mario sunk himself into one of those cushy benches that lined the grand hall and slumped down.

“Tired bro?” The seat shifted slightly as Luigi’s body weight joined the cushion. 

“That obvious?”

“Considering the fact you've gone about the whole day with your eyes half closed I’d say yes. That’s a safety hazard ya know?”

Mario chuckled, “How can bein’ a little sleepy be a safety hazard?”

“You’d be surprised bro; you need to get better sleep. What, are those nightmares bothering you again? Need another pair of eyes to watch out for ya while ya sleep;” Luigi poked at Mario’s side, moving his hand away quick enough to avoid his brother swatting it, “You haven't been midnight snacking again have you? You know how weird those dreams can get.”

“Lu, quit that, you're starting to sound like Ma.”

“Whaat am I not allowed to worry for my big bro?” 

Mario slumped down even further; taking in the comfort of the velvet cushion, “Mm you're only allowed to worry if I do something crazy.”

“Like wearing a racoon suit and flying over a pit of boiling lava?”

“Tanooki, Luigi, it's called a- ugh nevamind.” 

Mario felt his brother's arm go around his shoulders, “okay okay, seriously though, what’s bothering you?”

Bothering him? Mm, the quiet was one thing but that was only because the quiet gave way to other thoughts. Such a simple question, but so loaded at the same time. Mario let out a deep sigh, “Well, I guess that-”

“Master Mario, Master Luigi.”

Both the brothers sat up straight at that; Luigi nearly flew off the cushioned bench all together. 

“Where did you even come from?’ Mario wheezed out; at this rate he’d never get used to that booming voice especially mixed with how Dras T. always seemed to come in at the most unconventional times. 

“My… apologies. I’ve come to inform you that another meeting between the High Council of Toads needs a mediator.”

“Wait a minute, didn’t you already have a meeting earlier today?”

“Yeah, Lu’s right. We already did that today, why have anotha one?”

Dras T looked off to the side; that ever dramatic expression littered his features. He seemed to be addressing some imaginary force, 

“Problems have arisen in our fair kingdom, and it is up to us to face them head on. We cannot lay down on these issues another hour.”

“That would be inspirational if it wasn't so ominous…” Luigi muttered. 

“Meet me in the grand hall in an hour,”

Mario rubbed at his eyes, “Didn’t you just say we couldn't wait anoth- and he’s disappeared.”

The bros stared blankly at the empty space in front of them for a moment before turning back to each other.

“Whatdysay we get somethin’ to eat before this whole meeting fiasco eh?” 

Luigi tapped his fingers together excitedly; “Oh yeah! I sure hope Toad’s cooked up something tasty!

-

The sizzle and the impressive panwork Toad exhibited always impressed Mario, the way how with a flick of the wrist he’d so seamlessly flipped in several layers of deliciousness was nothing but astounding. If it weren’t for his own mothers cooking Mario may even call him the best chef he ever knew; of course only counting when the dishes didn't include mushrooms (ironic in and of itself).

Luigi pointed excitedly at the diced tomatoes that sat on the counter next to Toads cooking setup “Oh, and a little bit of that too!” 

“Weegi ya sure that you finish that whole omelet before the meeting?”

“Aw come on Mario, have a lil faith in your little bro, ha cha cha, he’s my best eater, annnd a flippage” Toad flipped the omelet and it land perfectly folded back in the pan before he smoothly slid the food onto Luigi’s eager plate while dooting out what can only be assumed to be a super rad guitar solo. 

“Now what do you want in your omelet Mari-bro,”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Marisnow, Marigo, Mario the man; Mario the concept, Mari-”

“Cheddar cheese, tomatoes, spinach, and go really light on the onions.” Mario deadpanned. 

“Ahh yeah yea, going right with the classic, doing the Mario as I like to say.”

“You’ve never said that before now.”

“It’s gonna catch on, trust me.” 

Mario chuckled and rolled his eyes while holding out his plate for his Courtesy of Toad (™) omelet. He sat back as he listened to Luigi and Toads idle chatter. Luigi had always been a foodie, he was a mama’s boy after all. He’d always be right under Ma’s feet whenever she was cooking. Mario was just glad that Lu had someone to talk to in the mushroom kingdom that was just as passionate about delicious dishes as he was. Luigi just had a certain nuance for food that Mario could never match; so to see his brother and his (self proclaimed) best friend get along well was comforting. Comfort… speaking of comfort, was it just him or were these luncheon chairs the softest thing in the world. And when did everything get so dark and quiet?

Mario opened his eyes to his brother and Toad, staring at him with a mixture of amusement and worry. 

“Taking a quick power nap there Mario?”

“Meh, more or less,” he didn’t even notice he’d already been given his food, luckily his hand had been steady enough for it to not go rolling off the plate. 

Eating their late lunch meals the bros watched as Toad had begun preparation for his next set of meals; explaining them away. Mario wasn’t really paying attention, only tuning in when the conversation began talking of a special banquet.

Luigi spoke in between bites “Oh- oh so all these recipes you're trying out are for the princess’s return?” 

“Uh no, no it's for the special visitor coming. You don’t know?”

Mario raised a brow as he swallowed the last bit of his food, “I uh don’t, think we were clued in on that.” Mario had a feeling he now knew what that last minute council meeting was called for. 

“The princess didn’t leave any notes on that did she?” Luigi asked nervously, “I read the instructions plenty of times, gosh how did I miss that?”

“Ay Lu don’t worry about it too much from the sounds of it this was a last minute addition.”

Toad snapped his fingers and pointed finger guns at Mario “And in that you'd be right, I just found out about it myself. It’s weird though, what kind of prince schedules a meeting knowing a princess won’t be there?” 

“A what?”

“So you two are really really out of the loop then.”

Luigi fumbled into a standing position as he grabbed Mario’s arm, “Come on Bro, let's-a get to this meeting and figure out what’s goin’ on!” 

Mario nodded as he also got up to go, “Thanks for the late lunch Toad, we’ll talk later.”

“Of course, and fill a guy in on the juicy deets on this prince character when you get the chance, yeah?”

Down the halls of the grandiose castle they went; headed towards the grand hall.

NEXT TIME ON SUPER MARIO BROS: SUPER STAR STEADY

Will Mario make it through this meeting without falling asleep?

Who will tell Luigi that he has a few crumbs on his mustache? 

Will ‘doing the Mario’ ever really catch on?

And who is this mysterious prince character? 

Find out in the next chapter of Mario & Luigi: Princess Placeholders

Here | Part 2 | ...

[cabeswaterdrowned]

andrew nico and blue classic

Hi sorry I got to the asks for this so late this one took a long time, I actually realized I had the opportunity to post it on your birthday but I didn’t quite manage but anyway consider this a belated birthday present if my rambling tangents qualify as such to you <33

Blue Sargent

three facts about them from my personal headcanons: 1) her favorite musical is Wicked and she identified with Elphaba 2) I think she has some sensory issues which is why she’s so particular about certain textures of clothing, food etc. and I definitely like to read her as neurodivergent 3) I hc her as non-white in Maura’s side I especially like picturing her as desi which you could say is projection and you’d be right, but generally I think of her as a brown girl.

a reason they suck: her judgmental streak is real, and she’s very proud and yes these things together can influence her towards being a bit of a hypocrite.

a reason they are great: Idk how to pick just one thing I am infamously Not normal about this girl she remains my favorite ya book girl to this day.. But I really love how passionate Blue is and also how kind of self-possessed she is about her own feelings, she’s very in tune with her own individuality and what she desires out of life: seeing the world, exploring, finding ways to help make the world better, having her own path that she determines not a set destiny, wanting lasting meaningful relationships and friendships that are maybe more intense than is technically healthy etc. she searches for something more and doesn’t entirely know how to get there/what that path is but she’s intent on carving out that path for herself and finding that knowledge, and then the area she’s least in tune with herself about is like, romance and particularly the way to feel about Gansey in the first few books which I really like as a dichotomy ((and it’s part of why Bluesey reads like a lesbian narrative cough)), that passionate nature is also what allows her to be extremely loving and brave and creative and I generally love that about her. Also this is an unpopular opinion but the way she thinks and her personality does feel like a very real teenage girl, I think Maggie did a good job writing her voice in that department and that wasn’t ever a problem with how she wrote Blue the problem with how she wrote her was, as I say later, the fact that Maggie wasn’t interested in the follow-through of her arc/how Blue’s personality which was very fleshed out, would change/develop outside of happening to develop certain relationships. Oh I also love how curious she is I love character who constantly want to know what is up with everything which will continue to be a theme in the other asks … I’ll quit while I’m ahead here I love her but also really am due for a reread which is why this is coming out so incoherently.

a reason I relate to them: I relate a lot to her mindset of loving whimsical things but striving to be practical in my pursuit of whimsy, I also just relate to a lot of her personality (besides how brave/risk-taking she can be which is not me at all lmao) and thought processes she’s one of the chars I most identify with in fiction generally… and a lot of it can be tied to the fact we’re both 4w5’s tbh. I also was raised mainly by multiple maternal figures I strive to emulate and grew up not thinking well of male authority figures <3

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character: for otp it’s Bluesey obviously my parents who raised me… I really really love Blue x Noah too but it’s more elite tier. Imfor ot3 there are actually 3 options which I find really appealing I think Gansey/Blue/Noah Blue/Gansey/Henry and Blue/Gansey/Adam all have excellent ot3 potential but I’m going to go with the latter because it’s the messiest option and I like to have fun. Three incredibly fucked up bisexuals who were obsessed w each other in thematically fascinating ways.

five things that never happened to that character that I believe should have happened: 1. I loved the parts of Bllb that focused on Blue learning about her powers with Gwenllian and that dynamic as a vehicle for her becoming in tune with being a mirror/witch should have continued as a storyline in TRK the way Adam and Ronan’s abilities continued to be relevant to the story, the conclusion to the arc could’ve still been Blue learning about the Artemis-tree situation but i wanted more reflection from her on what these powers are going to mean for her going forward and not just “oh yeah I guess it makes sense I’m part tree” 2. Her arc towards becoming less judgmental shouldn’t have just been “I guess I need to not be so mean to rich white boys” I wish she had actually gotten to grapple with her mindsets about class and gender more, and obviously I adore her dynamics with the boys and the 300 Fox way ladies but I wanted her . 3) I love Maura but I kind of wish Blue had been allowed to be mad at her about disappearing at the end of TDT for longer after she had come back (her moments of anger before Maura gets back are incredible I love her interactions with Calla when they both are missing her too), especially since Bllb is when Persephone and Jesse die and the anticipation of Gansey’s loss are really building and getting to Blue so I think it would be really natural for her to double down on transferring those emotions to her mother who is safe for her to be mad at. 4) I do kind of like that Artemis himself wasn’t that relevant to Blue when he showed up lol, but I still think Blue should have gotten to actually know him and deal with some of her feelings about being abandoned by him that were definitely There in earlier books. She could get to let out her feelings and get to know him a little and then still feel unimpressed by him / that he’s not a real guardian figure to her the way Maura Calla and Jimmi are and Persephone was. That would work for me <3 5) Generally TRK failed to resolve what Blue was going to do with her future aside from the Bluesey/Sarchengsey of it all (both of which I love but come on) I haven’t read Greywaren yet but I am glad there was some lip service to that and it made decent sense for her char. (Also should be said that my last reread of the first two books was in 2019 so while I like to think of myself as a Blue expert still my memory of some things might not be that sharp.)

five people that character never fell in love with and why

1)Adam —- I actually do like Blue/Adam it’s

the type of pairing where hindsight made me appreciate it more and find it more interesting as it exists in the story. Blue not falling for Adam had multiple factors so it’s hard to pinpoint just one, part of it was definitely that for Blue liking Adam better than Gansey went hand in hand with the idea of her as someone who wasn’t bound to a specific fate, and that wasn’t fair to him (Adam also had reasons to fixate on Blue that weren’t fair to her but this isn’t about his side of things, even though that also added to creating a distance within their relationship which is part of why), so part of it is based on the circumstances around their relationship, also I don’t think necessarily that they’re incompatible romantically personality wise but they definitely both honed in on certain similarities between them and assumed that would mean perfect compatibility when that wasn’t the case. In a different storyline maybe they could’ve gotten there, within the timeline and structure of the story not really.

2)Noah —- Literally Noah said it himself it’s because he’s not alive… yet at the same time from what we know of Noah pre-death he didn’t sound like someone Blue would like much at all, so that makes the whole “I’d ask you out if I was alive.” “I’d say yes.” thing even more tragic, although Blue very much does mean it for the Noah that is right now if He could live.

3)Ronan — this is just on here because I needed more people lol I actually wasn’t sure who to put after Adam. But Blue could never be attracted to Ronan because she likes a particular flavor of fruity pathetic boys like she likes fruity nerdy and pathetic not fruity Ronan is fruity but isn’t the right kind of pathetic for her at all he’s too harsh and fiery, and similar to Blue herself but not in a way that attracts her at all.

4)Kavinsky — She hated him and would never interact with him willingly there’s really not much depth I can add here. Also the way he spoke to her in their one scene in tdt was disgusting the fact for a long time there were parts of the fandom that cared way more about him and the dream pack than Blue and the 300 fox way women Grrr

5)Helen — This is my crack pairing that I felt passionately about in the year 2013 she didn’t fall in love with Helen simply because she didn’t get the chance to. But I think she could’ve if they met like 5 years post series and Blue hadn’t met Gansey yet so.

Andrew Minyard

three facts about them from my personal headcanons: 1. He’s a fan of horror media specifically slasher films (also old movies in general but that’s canon from some of the things he’s referenced in dialogue) 2. Only half a headcanon/generally this is very based on the texts but I do think Nora is right about him being bipolar (something she says in the E.C. But it was a while ago so she used out dated terminology) and based on meta I’ve read from people more well-versed in the subject than myself and far more than Nora, I agree that he’s Bipolar II and has C-PTSD, and is also probably on the autism spectrum. 3. He says his favorite color is black but it is actually blue (like Neil’s eyes lol)

a reason they suck: I mean if I met him in real life I would definitely be bothered by how inflexible his judgements of the world and other people are and by his inclination for violence, but narratively I’m more than fine with all those things tbh.

a reason they are great: am going to refrain from writing an essay here and just mention a few qualities I really like about him: extreme loyalty and protectiveness towards his ‘people’, incredibly intelligent and perceptive in how he reads people and situations, always driven to seek knowledge as a means of controlling circumstances for those he cares about and himself but also just because he’s a nosy bitch, and then I have a hard time explaining some other things especially since you haven’t finished the series but I just think the way he works as a character is fascinating I’m obsessed with his brain. Thinking about him a lot also makes me miserable sometimes in a good way. I also think he’s one of the funniest characters ever. I’ll stop talking now he really contains multitudes to Me.

a reason I relate to them: honestly abandonment issues and emotional repression..Also like the way he always want to know everyone’s business but doesn’t actually like to talk to people (non-medicated) is a mood.

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character: Andreil and Kandrew I honestly can’t choose because Andreil is THEE ship and Kandrew is My ship obsession and I consider those two separate categories in a sense, my approach with Pynch and Adansey is similar tbh. And for ot3 Kandreil <33 very non-controversial.

five things that never happened to that character that I believe should have happened: 1) getting on proper meds suited to his actual diagnosis would be nice 2) I want him and Nicky to figure out new approaches in their relationship and generally work to have a better one 3) I think it would be cool if like Neil he later switched his major to something he actually was interested, especially like the idea of him as a film major or a psych major

five people that character never fell in love with and why

1)Roland — So this is a dynamic/character where I have one reaction based on information from the books + extra content (which is basically @ Roland get a job stay away from him!) , and Andrew’s pov of the dynamic is a bit different from mine so I’m focusing on this question from Andrew’s pov. I think Andrew liked Roland because he’s charming and easy to like and treated him like a peer not a kid (which is part of the problem) but it was a shallow kind of liking which was why Andrew saw Roland as a “safe” outlet to explore his sexuality, because there was no risk of him getting too attached which was safer to him emotionally and meant that when Roland tried to overstep his boundaries Andrew didn’t have an emotional weakness for it and could shut it down, and not a massive amount of trust existed but more trust than potentially he would have with other people. Also I kind of think that part of why he was drawn to (/vulnerable to) Roland specifically had something to do with Roland as someone so tied to Nicky, and while Nicky and Aaron were in getting closer and Andrew was placing himself in the protector-not-family role and also everything that happened with the court/meds Andrew would feel flattered / get a type of validation from being able to attract Roland and be chosen over Nicky in a sense, and get a kind of satisfaction successfully keeping it a secret. Honestly I think Roland is for Andrew what Wren is for Spencer in a way (which makes Nicky the Melissa technically), so that kind of itself explains why Andrew doesn’t love him.

2)Matt — I think that Andrew Does find Matt attractive (and is annoyed about it) esp in moments where Matt loses his cool more ex. when he’s picking a fight, is really protective etc. but he would never develop deeper feelings both because of the way they interact based on the structure of the team, the role Andrew played pre series in Matt going to rehab (I don’t remember if this is explained in book 1 or 2 so idk if you read about that yet) etc. and aside from all that Matt just has too conventional a view on morality and is just too close to normal for Andrew to ever be interested enough. However in different storylines pre and during the series or if they met when they were younger I could see them having a fling even if canon-wise it would be out of the question for both.

3)Jeremy — Other than the obvious that they haven’t had nearly enough contact, Andrew would just never be into someone that bubbly and nice they’d never be compatible, and unlike Matt I don’t even think Andrew sees or would under any circumstances see any sort of edge to Jeremy that could make him a bit compelling. And I think it’s vice versa too they don’t dislike each other (Jeremy doesn’t seem to dislike anyone) but they’re not for each other at all. There’s one place where this pairing could happen at all and it’s in the sex dreams yk Kevin has had about it Lolz.

4)Jean — again the thing about contact and then I think across the board in canon and any version of post canon timeline for Kevin and Neil centric reasons Andrew would always hate him. I’m unsure how I think they’d interact if they met outside the parameters of the series, in a Raven Andrew Au I do think Andrew and Jean would have been close while Andrew and Kevin would decidedly Not be close, I don’t really think Andrew would ever view Jean romantically in those circumstances though.

5)Seth — like with Kavinsky this is low hanging fruit Andrew hated him and would never interact with him willingly.

Nico Di Angelo

three facts about them from my personal headcanons: 1. Rick is incorrect about Nico and Reyna not spending time together post boo he’s just insane for that. Nico is constantly spending time at Camp Jupiter to hang out with his sister and his pseudo sister and his brother in law who he likes to scare half to death for fun imo 2. I think he’d really enjoy things like MBTI and astrology he likes sorting and categorizing things and being a nerd see: Mythomagic 3. In addition to his Aquarius sun he’s a Scorpio moon, not decided on his rising yet

a reason they suck: I was completely drawing a blank because I can’t think of anything I dislike about him but then I remembered the tsats excerpts so I guess just being cringe in those is his biggest crime to date. Like I could say the holding grudges thing but honestly I’m a Taurus I get it

a reason they are great: He’s so smart and knowledgable and resourceful and resilient and I love that he’s so powerful while constantly underestimated, he’s also just. He has a complicated moral compass which makes him interesting and I really like that, but fundamentally he’s very loving.

a reason I relate to them: tbh you can copy paste what I said for Andrew p much + additionally when rereading last year I did connect with the way his grief is constantly present in his character post end of ttc, a lot actually :/.

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character: I resent this a little but Jason/Nico is definitely the most appealing one to me based on canon content. And for ot3 I Was having fun last year with reimagining part of hoo as a Leo-Jason-Nico love triangle, and Valdangelo has so much untapped potential so definitely the three of them.

five things that never happened to that character that I believe should have happened: 1) for the fact that chb is prejudiced against him to be acknowledged and not dismissed, I’m okay with there being some grey area in terms of him isolating himself because of trauma and that also being a factor, but not him being blamed for the alienation he experiences which is territory canon gets into at times 2) his final scene with Percy in BOO should have been more impactful and less of a joke and we should have gotten a sense of how they’ll mend their friendship 3) what I said before about Reyna and Hazel being largely involved with him getting to feel at home at camp and him clearly visiting them a lot 4) I want it acknowledged that Hades and the Furies and maybe Persephone must have tutored him because he dropped out of school in 5th grade I want to get insight on that experience. Which I fully believe happened but not 100% sure Rick does so counting it 5) I really like the Dionysus therapy thing but Chiron should be made to feel ashamed for his passivity and letting Nico be homeless in pjo

five people that character never fell in love with and why

1)Leo — Rick was simply too much of a coward to let them interact and have the arc of figuring out how compatible they would be.

2)Jason — I think Nico would be resistant to the idea of letting himself *go there* emotionally with another “hero” archetype in the timeline of canon bcs of the Percy thing. I do believe he had some latent attraction to Jason (him comparing Will’s and Jason’s looks in BOO is… telling lmao) and ofc definitely cared for him but it would have taken a while for love-level feelings to develop, though i definitely think they could have since Nico is the opposite of Andrew in that sense that he likes nice heroic boys only lol, and they definitely have points of connection so plenty of potential there. In the timeline of canon there’s way more evidence of Jason having strong romantic feelings/actually being smitten re: Nico which like I said I think was ultimately a good thing that made the dynamic a stand out compared to the status quo of both chars other dynamics, and also just a lot more palatable to me personally since my relationship with Jason as a char is … complicated lol, and I definitely would have Strongly resented a dynamic where the reverse was true in introduction.

3)Frank — he’s dating Hazel and age probably other things too .

4)Apollo — Okay so he definitely had a crush on him in TTC I don’t want that to be true but it is… BOO restated it too in a way…anyway though he would never fall in love with Apollo he hates his actual cocky personality (he’s fond of Lester/Apollo too but it’s the way you’d be fond of a really smelly and badly behaved dog tbh).

5)Octavian — because Octavian’s a little bitch Nico doesn’t have a lot of standards (bcs of the abandonment issues) but he does have Some standards.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

So I (finally!) bought a pair of really good noise cancelling headphones, and it has changed my life! It's the fanciest thing I've bought in years, so to recoup some of the cost, I’ve researched & written a little essay based on my experiences with extreme noise sensitivity.

Hypersensitivity to sound is something I’ve dealt with all of my life, but I only recently found out it's medically known a Hyperacusis. (Please note this is a separate condition from Misophonia.) If you consistently struggle to cope with noise, the info below could be helpful! I’m including a link to my ko-fi, and I will be answering questions in the notes.

(skip to the bottom to read fun facts about my tax return and/or street organs vendettas!)

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional, this is based solely on my experiences as a patient, and on what I have read and been told by professionals. Please notify me if you have corrections or concerns about accuracy!

BACKGROUND: Sensitivity to sound is a common type of sensory issue. While anyone can experience such issues (most people, for example, might be bothered by loud music in a crowded restaurant), some people are more sensitive than others, to the point it becomes a quality-of-life aka a medical issue.

If you consistently struggle with environmental stimuli that other people aren’t bothered by (background noises, bright lights, certain textures and tastes, etc), to the point it causes daily discomfort or limits the environments you can be in, I recommend reading about Sensory Processing Disorder.

SPD and sound sensitivity are both super common in autistic folks (like me!), but allistic (non-autistic) people can experience them too. Weep, ye prisoners of mortal coil, for none are safe, nothing sacred, not in this thy most accursed tomb of human flesh!

Anyway.

SOUND SENSITIVITY or HYPERACUSIS: Noise issues are particularly difficult to navigate in a world that is increasingly...noisy. The relatively new phenomenon of constant overhead music in restaurants, grocery stores, shopping malls etc—all of this means that public spaces are increasingly inaccessible to people with auditory issues.*

As a kid, nothing quite triggered sensory overload/meltdowns for me like the constant exposure to noise I couldn’t control—the background chatter of other kids in the lunchroom, the constant noise in public spaces, being trapped in the car with the radio on.... I had so many fights with my siblings about the car radio, and who got to choose the music.**

But it’s not just loud sounds that are the problem. As an adult who lives alone and works from home***, I’m lucky enough to be able to avoid loud environments most of the time. This does wonders for my general levels of anxiety and discomfort. But even in a mostly controlled environment, I still experience problems. Because part of sound sensitivity is that even normal or quiet sounds can feel loud and intrusive. Here are some “normal” sounds that can cause me discomfort (ranging from annoyance to outright pain, depending on the day):

refrigerator/AC/ceiling lights humming

dishwasher/washing machine noises

ceiling fan making that damn ceiling fan noise

faint sounds of traffic

riding in a car

other people having a normal conversation in the background

someone talking to me in a perfectly normal inside voice

Unfortunately, even in a “controlled” environment, many triggering noises can’t be controlled. And many parts of life can’t be lived in a controlled environment. This presents...some incredibly freaking annoying problems. Luckily there are solutions!

Sorta.

There are sorta some solutions.

They are imperfect, but they help.

TREATMENT: And now I have something rather shame-faced to admit. In all the years of managing my symptoms, it never once occurred to me to see a hearing specialist for my issues with sound. I wasn’t even aware that treatment options exist, because none of my other doctors mentioned it. Instead, I’ve spent years finding my own coping mechanisms and tools, with help from therapists and psychiatrists, but without ever consulting an audiologist/ENT. It was only while researching this post that I found out that was even an option, holy shit.

So it turns out I am going to be making an appointment with my local ENT practice. shit.

Apparently treatment options include sound/acoustic therapy, systematic desensitization/exposure therapy, cognitive behavior therapy, sound machines, and other options that I had no idea even existed, goddammit.

MANAGEMENT: In the meantime, here are my current coping mechanisms. I’ve relied rather heavily on hearing protection, which is very useful when used in moderation. Unfortunately, it can cause its own problems: it’s important not to overuse hearing protection, because in the long-term this can increase your sensitivity. So again: a useful tool, but be careful not to overdo it.

With that in mind, here are some of the coping strategies I’ve used over the last decade to manage my symptoms. This is not a perfect system and you should contact your local ENT clinic for better, long-term solutions, but in the meantime here are some tips I use to just get myself through the damn day:

Regularly spending time in a quiet controlled environment, to allow my nervous system to decompress.

Wearing earplugs, (I use two different grade, depending on the level of noise prevention I need), and always carrying an extra pair in case I need them unexpectedly. I bought a 50 pack for $7 and put spares in all my bags and jacket pockets.

(I mostly use Mack’s Ultra Soft, but there are so many types and materials and brands, including foam, silicone, wax, custom moldable etc. Even if you have trouble wearing things in your ears, you might be able to find something comfortable.)

Similarly: hearing protection earmuffs, the kind used in gun ranges and on construction sites. I bought mine online for $10. they look like normal wireless headphones, so I've never gotten comments when wearing mine in public (other than “cool heaphones” bc i added skull glitter stickers).

Sometimes I wear the earmuffs on top of earplugs, when life is just too damn LOUD.

Listening to music w/ earbuds or headphones is a great way to balance out background noises, especially if you can find soothing playlists that help you concentrate. Also useful to put in just one earbud when you need to pay attention in class/at work.

Pro tip: if your hair is long enough you can wear wireless earbuds without anyone knowing.

White noise, rain noises, ocean noises etc can be helpful! Some people like whale songs although personally this activates my primal fear response

Active noise cancelling headphones: the reason I wrote this post to begin with—I finally bought a pair! As in, a really good pair! As in, a depressingly expensive pair with noise cancelling technology that actually WORKS, holy shit. I probably need to wear them a little less at home (bc overprotection causes problems in the longterm) but they have absolutely transformed my ability to go out in public and i never ever want to take these suckers off again please take a power screwdriver and nail these to my head, bury me in the sweet sweet shroud of silence. holy canoli and cream puffs I want to marry form a civil partnership with these headphones. Plus they have a bunch of features, like being able to control the level of noise cancellation, so I can hold a conversation or be aware of some ambient noise for safety reasons.

Oh, and also they play music I guess?

Sorry sorry I promise this post wasn’t supposed to be me shilling for Big Electronics. I’m just excited, I’m an excited flabby little ball of expired flubber. ANC headphones aren’t a perfect solution, and I still sometimes wear earplugs underneath, and I will always be uncomfortable some of the time, but for me it’s been a big step.

Unfortunately the cost of good quality ANC technology means this isn’t an option for everyone, and the (much cheaper) gunshot protection earmuffs I mentioned earlier still provide an impressive amount of protection and bang-for-your buck (maybe even an equal amount of protection, if you can find ones that fit well). But if noise consistently prevents you from enjoying public space and life in general, and you’ve already tried earmuffs & earplugs and find they don’t offer enough comfort/convenience/protection, and if you’re in a position to save up for a one time non-necessity purchase of $150+, noise cancelling headphones are an option to be aware of. (Please always check the return policy so you can try before you buy. I ended up buying and returning 2 pairs before finding what worked best for me. And please look for a retailer that offers an extended warranty. You want those motherforkers to last).

There are cheaper options available, including some under $50. The ones I tried didn't work as well as my hearing protection earmuffs, but some people report good experiences, so that is something to consider. it's always good to know your options! Passive noise canceling is another affordable alternative.

Medication: A final tool in my toolbox, which for me personally has helped as much as every other method combined. Like, a lot, it’s helped a lot. It turns out some anti-anxiety medications can also help sensory issues. There’s not much research on this, and I only discovered it firsthand when a medication my doctor prescribed for anxiety ended up significantly helping my sensory issues. I no longer need medication for anxiety, but my psychiatrist still prescribes that same medication off-label for my sensory stuff. Ask your psychiatrist to research your options (they will probably have to do some digging to find relevant research, but you deserve to know all your options, even the obscure ones). Fyi, the medication I use is in the benzodiazepines class, but there are other options for those concerned about dependency or side effects.

(I'm also told anti-anxiety supplements may be helpful, though I haven't tried this yet. If you're on prescription meds, always talk to your doctor about contraindications before taking anything over-the-counter.)

So there you have it, my main coping strategies for sound sensitivity! They are not a replacement for medical treatment (except that last one which is in fact...medical treatment), but I find them helpful and I hope some of you will too! I’ve struggled for a long time, and I’m very pleased to have reached the point where I can just do things in public. Eating out in loud restaurants? I can do that now, and even enjoy it, holy shit! I can comfortably travel in cars for hours at a time, and walk around shopping malls and grocery stores with overhead music, and, and —and just exist. It is so so freeing, to feel like maybe, after everything, you are actually allowed to just exist in a world that wasn’t really designed for you.

Again, be careful not to overuse hearing protection—the goal is to allow you to be less uncomfortable and to function better, but if you find you are becoming more sensitive to noise, it is time to dial it back a notch. Or maybe consider listening to music (at a reasonable volume) to block out background noise instead.

*(This also includes people with hearing loss and related issues, btw. While that’s not my area of knowledge, I would welcome it if any of my HoH followers want to share their experiences.)

**A sign of sensory issues that parents often miss is when a child complains about music being too loud—but has no problem listening to their own music at high volume. This is because music that is already familiar to the listener (and that the listener enjoys) is much easier for the brain to process, since it knows what pattern of sounds to expect. Loud music that they get to control can be soothing for people with sound issues, especially when it blocks out background noise and sensations. This is why repetitively playing the same songs can be a helpful form of stimming.

***(working on this blog, actually. since it’s my only source of income, my 2020 income tax return literally lists my occupation as ‘Tumblr Blogger.’ Oddly, my parent didn’t feel this achievement was worth including in the holiday family newsletter.)

bonus fun fact: Charles Babbage aka “father of the computer” may have been autistic and hypersensitive to sound. He definitely had a huge problem with public noise pollution, and spent his later year waging a war on street musicians (and organ grinders in particular).

(bc like, yeah. screw organ grinders.)

Sometimes when I’m out in public and the overhead music is particularly unbearable, I’ll take a moment to look up to the sky and scream out: “HE TRIED TO WARN US! THE FATHER OF COMPUTERS TRIED TO WARN US!!! we should have listened, sweet heaven we should have listened!”

except i don’t scream it, i say it very quietly under my breath

(i have issues with noise)

so yeah that is my short essay. and here is the ko-fi goal

k ciao i gotta go pick out glitter stickers for my headphones

[sunball]

WHAT IS GOING ON IN YOUR PERSON'S LIFE RIGHT NOW + A MESSAGE FROM THEM

𖦹 this reading includes what is going on in your person’s life right now, what they (or their higher self) want to say to you at this moment and songs they'd like to give you. this reading is more about your future spouse or your future partner, someone who you may not be in contact with but you're curious about what they're doing.

𖦹 so there will be two paragraphs for each pile (what your person is doing and what they want to say to you). you can choose more than one pile. ex: pile 1 for what your person is doing and pile 2 for the message.

𖦹 how does this work? close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you.

𖦹 take what resonates.

THE PILES

PILE 01

now playing:

now playing:

pile 01's songs

THEIR LIFE

hello pile 01, welcome to your reading. I'm getting a lot of fire energy here, especially leo. I'm hearing Leo in 1st and 10th house, aries in 8th house, aries mars, mars in 10th house and also Venus in 2nd and 3rd house. I'm also getting gemini and capricorn. capricorn mars, aquarius venus. If these aren't your placements then they're most likely your person's placements. or perhaps, those are their transits. I feel a lot of confident energy from your person, I think they are at a good place right now. Your person has been betrayed and heartbroken quite recently but I feel like they're not trying to let that get to them. they're keeping their head high, focusing on their goals and working really hard. the pain motivated them to work hard, maybe as a way to get revenge? In their head, they may think that if they work hard, they can show off their success to the person that broke them like "hey, look at me now!". for some others, it's possible that they're working really hard because the work distracts them from the pain and the situation. they're acting like the pain isn't affecting them, I'm seeing them just laughing and hanging out with a group of people (their friends?) acting like theyre not dealing with any problems. your person is definitely at a period of time where work is only on their mind, they're hungry for success. success is the only thing your person is heading towards, it's the only direction they see. love isn't on your person's mind at all so I doubt that you've crossed their mind. but little do they know, the direction that they're heading towards will also lead them to you. your person may have travelled somewhere recently or maybe they're thinking of travelling somewhere else. there is change on the horizon for your person, maybe they will be promoted soon or moving countries, going to university, etc. they are so ambitious. I'm seeing piles of paper on desks, papers stuck on walls with dates and notes on them and also quotes. motivational quotes perhaps. your person is also working out, they could be getting up quite early. 6 am? I'm getting mad mars in 6th house vibes from your person. they're feeling burnt out, they have so much on their plate but they're not stopping anytime soon because they like it and also because they have no choice. they're also taking many responsibilities, I'm hearing house chores, work and looking after their parents or siblings. your person could be a student, a business person or they could work in an office. they're organizing their workspace and keeping track of their schedule, getting ready for the next chapter of their life. laziness is not in your person's vocabulary!

THEIR MESSAGE

you know, I am so busy right now. I'm too exhausted to even think about love, to think about you. I don't think about it anymore unlike before. I know at times you feel like we're nowhere close and you doubt my existence because of how distant I feel and I'm sorry. It is partially true, we're nowhere close to eachother and we're both individual human beings. let's live in the present and experience things and meet new people without having to think about eachother. I don't feel right about thinking of the future and just hoping for something to happen, hoping to just end up with someone like you. It doesn't feel right. I need to do something, I need to take action. that's exactly what I'm doing now. It gives me a sense of stability knowing that I'm taking action and there's a high possibility of my dreams coming true. I've promised myself that I won't stop working until I've achieved everything. I can't do all of this by myself, I need your help too. I'm asking you a favour, do your part. I'm doing mine. work hard and don't slack off. I'm sorry again for sounding cold, I'm not like this on a daily basis. I'm just really tired. I need to get my point across. don't slack off. please. I'll keep saying that. oh, that reminds me. at times I will definitely sound like a teacher or a boss, it's just a habit I got from work. It's not my intention to make you feel stupid, I know you're smart. I wanted you to know that because I don't want you to think I'm generally a cold person. I'm not. when tarot readers or psychics or astrologers or whoever says that I'm cold, they only mean when I'm at work or when I'm busy or serious. I would never be like that to someone I love, especially you. truthfully speaking, you don't know much about me at all especially if you think I'm a cold person. that thought you have of me stops now. I'm guessing that you're curious about me now. I like to look neat and clean, I don't like bright colours, they look unprofessional. I hang out with my friends sometimes and we just have lunch at a café or a local restaurant. I'm on my computer a lot so my back always hurts but I'm doing exercises to help me with it. I have too many cookbooks that I don't use because I don’t have much time, I end up freestyling my food and cooking up some eggs. I need to get better at managing time. I don't like people that don't practice what they preach, it irritates me. now for my appearance. this, in no way is useful information that will help us in any way but I suppose I'll just tell you. I have a sharp nose, it's pointy and a little wide. I don't have any piercings. I don't have bangs. as for my eyes, they're brown and deep-set. my lips? they're just lips. you'll love them anyway so it doesn't matter. my hair? neat and brown. you'll love it too. that's enough. you can stop trying to get to know me now, leave that for when we meet. you can know me more yourself when the time comes, I like the process of getting to know someone and the effort someone puts into getting to know me. until then, keep working hard.

PILE 02

now playing:

pile 02's songs

THEIR LIFE

I’m getting cancer energy from the pile, also pisces and gemini and libra. I’m hearing cancer/pisces/ libra venus, venus in 5th/7th/12th house, pisces moon, mercury in 7th house, cancer in 2nd house, gemini rising. if these aren’t your placements then they’re most likely your person’s, if not then these may be their transits. right now I feel like your person is trying something new, especially a hobby. I’m getting ‘painting’ for some of you. for others, your person has started something new like a project or they moved to a new house, something like that. there’s this feeling of ‘newness’ in your person’s life right now. they have so much passion for whatever this ‘newness’ is. they’re excited for this change, they can’t wait to move to the next stage. I’m feeling a positive energy coming from your person. their creativity is flowing through their blood, they feel inspired and joyous. some of you may not like to hear this but your person may have gotten in a relationship with someone or they want to get into a relationship with someone. they have a crush. I feel like there’s still an important choice to be made and your person has waited such a long time for the next stage, the relationship stage. I feel like their crush or their partner isn’t showing them that much attention, it feels quite one sided (your person giving more), they’re doing so much for their crush/partner but I feel like your person isn’t seeing it right, they’re just so blinded. like a little kid when they have a crush. If you don’t like what you’re hearing, don’t worry, they’re your person for a reason. anyways for others of you, I’m seeing your person listening to music while they’re doing their new hobby. painting is coming really strong, I’m seeing an easel. If it’s not a hobby then your person is feeling in love, whether it be a person or something else. their head is in the clouds, they’re listening to love songs, feeling so inspired by everything around them. love and venus themes is really important in your person’s life right now. If you’ve been listening to love songs recently or if you just feel all lovey-dovey, it’s most likely because of your person, you’re connected to your person. or if you feel inspired out of nowhere, it’s probably because of your person too. I just felt like I had to let you know that. sooner or later though, your person will realise that the relationship is one sided and they will give up on it. this will hit your person really hard, it will be a hard lesson for them. perhaps even the last lesson because I feel like your person has always done too much for people that don’t deserve their love. your person has experienced a lot and learnt many lessons except for this, when they learn this though, they will have learnt all the lessons. they can tick this off their box. I’m getting such wise Pisces vibes from them. for lots of you, your person is already in the 'realisation' stage and there's about to be a change in their life.

THEIR MESSAGE

It’s been challenging these days, maybe even these past few weeks and maybe even months too. It’s fine though, I can get through it. you don’t have to worry about me. I have a gut feeling that something is going to happen soon, disappointments? I’m not surprised, I’ve been so stuck in my own head. I don’t know why I keep giving people more. so stupid of me. maybe it’s not my fault? maybe it’s their fault for giving less, who knows. I don’t know how to stop. why do I do this? I keep getting disappointed over and over again, I’m starting to not have hope anymore. despite this, I still think love is beautiful. with the right person. love is not only limited to romantic love though, which is what I’ve learnt recently. I’ve been so fixated on romantic relationships that I’ve forgotten about the beautiful things around me. surprisingly, there’s love everywhere. do you know what I love? I love the stars, I love flat white coffee, I love the smell of fresh grass, I love nature and the sun, I love dogs (especially small dogs) and I love experiences. experiences that shape me into a better person, painful or not, I love those. not to sound masochistic – but I love pain. I learn from pain. love has always been painful for me but I’m still giving people my all, wrong people to be precise. Is that why I keep falling for people that don’t care about me? because I love getting hurt? now that I’ve thought of it, it sounds terrible. I need to fix that. I feel embarrassed now that you know this, please don’t shake your head. I will fix it. I want this cycle to end. don’t be worried about me. you should continue living your life, there’s yet so much you can experience. places to go, new people to meet, new activities to do. so much. I’d love to experience so many things with you. do you like road trips? I’d love to go on a picnic date too, does stargazing sound good? we could travel around the world, that’s on my bucket list. so many ideas but there’s still so much distance and time between us. I feel excited thinking about it, I want to do so much right now and experience so many things. by the time we meet, I might already have a long white beard because I’ll be so wise *laughs*. who knows, white hair does look awesome. I think it might suit me actually. on a serious note, I want you to know that you should not be afraid to try new things. don't be afraid of change. regret is scarier than change, staying in the same place and not growing is scarier than change. you may lose something good but what if you gain something even better? I’ll be there for you every step of the way, I’m always there for you even though I’m not there with you physically. do you feel me? I’m so proud of you. If you see an opportunity, take it or you’ll regret it later. don’t be afraid of saying no or saying yes, you deserve to be heard, assert your dominance *laughs*. I love you, take care of yourself. you can do it. [:

PILE 03

now playing:

pile 03's songs

THEIR LIFE

I'm getting mutable and fixed energy here, especially scorpio, virgo, leo, sagittarius. maybe scorpio rising and sagittarius rising with pluto in 1st house. I'm hearing saturn in 8th house, saturn in 22°, scorpio sun or moon aspecting saturn, pluto and sun or moon sitting in the same house. if these aren't your placements then they're most likely your person's. these could be their transits too. your person is going through a transformation, something had recently happened in their life that has caused this transformation. I'm thinking it's death, a death of a loved one like a family member, a friend or a pet. someone close to them. If it's not a death of a loved one then it's a death of a cycle, a death of a job, a relationship, something like that. something that came to an end. it's affecting your person badly and they feel so much guilt. they're missing and mourning over whatever this is. they're pessimistic, they feel like the whole world is against them and that their would turned upside down. they have no hope anymore, they're not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm seeing that image of Yuu Otasaka from the anime Charlotte. I think your person is exactly like that right now. depressed. I see tissues, dark rooms and hoodies and blankets. also gaming for a number of you (interesting how the picture you chose is a picture of keys). they're going through it right now and they need support. your person is not communicating with many people or interacting with anyone at all, they're pushing people away. looking at the picture of the pile you chose, I realised it says "wish you were here". now this could mean that they wish that the person they lost were still with them or they wish that someone could come and support them or comfort them, or for a few amount of you, this could be meaning you. they wish you were there with them. however, I don't think love is a thought that comes in their mind in this period of time. it's more like, they're screaming into a void wishing someone could hear them, not directly meaning you. for others of you, I'm getting a different situation. your person may have gotten fired or they tried something but it didn't work out and they had so much hope for it. they badly wanted it to work out and now your person is feeling disappointed in themselves, like someone just ripped away something really valuable to them. your person doesn't know that the reason this, whatever this is, didn't work out is because it wasn't meant to. It's not part of their divine plan. It honestly saved your person from future problems but they don't know that. It's a blessing in disguise. I'm strongly feeling it's something related to their job or maybe love, 'right place, wrong time' is what I'm hearing. your person is blaming themselves for it all, thinking it was because of time, lack of planning or they didn't try hard enough. It isn't true, they should be easy on themselves.

THEIR MESSAGE

I don't know what to say. I don't feel like saying much. why do you want to know anyway? do you care? am I interesting? I'm not all that special, you know. here I go again, making sh*t sad. I'll try and make this light-hearted as possible because you shouldn't see this side of me, not so soon. not like this. *silence* I'll start off by saying that you can't control whatever life throws at you. but you can control your reactions and how you deal with it. I'm not doing very well, not dealing with it the way I usually do. It hit me hard and I don't like being sad like this and not doing anything, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to talk to anyone, not finding joy in the things I love doing. I hate this f*cking feeling and the way I'm dealing with it. I heard that you should let yourself feel everything once in a while. I'm f*cking feeling everything alright. why did I not let myself feel before? now it's all consuming me. all of my problems and emotions, this darkness inside of me, erupting. I regret this. I regret acting like I was fine before, finding distractions. now I know that being distracted doesn't necessarily mean that it's gone, the problem is still there. don't do what I did. let yourself feel. or it will all build up and eat you alive. you don't want that. I don't want that. I don't want you to be sad, god no. definitely not like this. but if being sad will help you then that's certainly fine by me, just don't act like you're fine. that will hurt me much more. just do what I say. showing emotions is not a sign of weakness. look at me, I'm so f*cked up because of not thinking that. this feeling will go away, right? right. If you need to let it all out, do it. I can feel your sadness, the nights you cried, I felt them. those tears of yours, I want to wipe them away but I'm not there. it sucks. I need you here. I need a good f*cking hug right now. I want you to be happy but I don't know how. I'd do anything to see that smile of yours. that precious smile that I have yet to see. I know it's precious. listen to me. I need you. I need you to stay strong. you're so strong and much more emotionally intelligent than I am. I am so in awe. your strength gives me energy, you give me energy. you're the light of my life. I hope our kids will be as beautiful and as amazing as you. I'm glad I was given the chance to talk to you like this. I love you, sunshine.

[persephoneflouwers]

Hello, I hope you have a good day

Tw: smoking, cancer

So there's a discourse on twitter going about how louis's smoking habit is dangerous and how it can have very damaging side effects uk with having history of cancer in his family. It bugs me how as fans they can't maintain a boundary.. But i am an anxious mess thinking about it.. I've always been regarding this topic. But now it has exceeded.. How do you manage thoughts like this as a doctor? When you constantly come across cases related to smoking and with the whole situation with lou. Like do you have any tips.?

Feel free to not answer this. 😥

Hello 🌸

Oh, this is a very good question. I’m sorry you’re feeling so overwhelmed right now. I think when you know how diseases work, you see things differently. It’s a bit easier to discriminate the cases: how many cigarettes per day? How long have you been smocking? How old are you? Is this an hereditarian case or were there other preventable factors? We are trained to come to diagnosis. You have to know the clinical history, the clinical presentation, side effects or literally anything in order to come to a conclusion. It comes across arrogant to find a diagnosis based on one thing such as smocking. Smocking is bad, of course it is. What else is new? It’s not just about cancer either. Smoke is the risk factor in every other issues (voice, breathing, stamina etc). But I know how hard it can be to quit too.

Fans have to know their boundaries here. I think fandom anxiety comes from the uncertainty around this topic (does he takes blood tests periodically for example? Is he getting checked every once in a while? Does he have a family medicine doctor who is there for him? We don’t know). The fact is, we don’t know much except for what we see or we are told every once in a while. I think no one has ever had THE talk with Louis about it, but that’s very normal for a young healthy man. The thing with smocking is that has been always so socially accepted it makes it harder to see the struggles of your health because of it. I’ve seen surgeons smocking in front of my two eyes! And I was like “how dare you? You literally operate these things inside people’s bodies!” but you know how humans are. You feel invincible and by the time you realise you are not, the cardiologist has already prescribed anti-hypertension and beta-blockers drugs.

My suggestion is to not take this burden on you. It’s not your job, not your responsibility as a fan (or as a doctor, by the way). Also stay away from twitter if you can. It’s very easy to be overwhelmed by the discourse over there. When something good happens you are surrounded by so much excitement, but it happens with controversial things too. The fact is when we go online and read stuff from other blogs or accounts, we don’t always match the energy. That’s absolutely normal, because we are individuals living our real life in different ways and in different moments. When discourses like this start, we are left with so many questions and worries coming from all the sides and that’s what you want to avoid. Stay away from any thing can make you feel uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter how little it is. Filter tags, block, say you’re not interested. Do whatever it takes to preserve your experience of the fandom. Today, this discourse feels like an unnecessary concern. Try not to stress on this thinking how being their health counsellor is not your role.

Anyway, this is a reminder to not smoke ffs. Here’s a thread I wrote a couple of years ago for the No Tobacco Day WHO campaign on the Louies science account, in case you’d want to spread some knowledge about the bad effects of smocking. :)

[yn-x-animeboy]

Jungkook x y/n (as a famous artist) Pt. 1

request: mine, my brain made me write this

pairing: reader x Jungkook

genre: fluff, romance, for entertainment purposes

BTS x Fem Reader

sinopsis: You are a popular artist in America, pretty famous, loved and well-known by the general public (actually you were one of the top 10 artists in the world but you are pretty humble and naïve to realize your popularity), one day during one of your fan meets you talk about how much you love BTS, and not only how you wish to meet them and work with them but how Jungkook is one of your celebrity crushes. During the meet you fangirled with other ARMYs in the crowd; video clips of you fangirling and talking about BTS at your meet where posted and reposted all over social media. This obviously broke the internet because you were not only a famous singer but you also were always accepted and loved by ARMY and this made a lot of people happy. Suddenly it felt like everyone wanted you to meet the seven handsome and talented idols and collaborate, but you could only wish, you believed they didn't even know who you were...or so you thought.

Pt. 1- Introduction. Your fan meet

Basically every couple of months you like to organize small get-togethers with your supporters as a way to have a closer contact with them, to get to know them, as a fanservice and to just thank them in a way. Lately you have been noticing one specific group of fan pages dedicated to you who have been really interactive and supportive on twitter; 

promoting your latest music video and the recent EPISODE of: y/n’s camera roll uploaded to your oficial platforms (your team uploaded a weekly video=episode to your channel; almost like Run BTS. Each episode had a different theme and your fans loved it)  this group of fan pages is constantly on your main page, so you decided to contact them and fly them out for a day in L.A. for one of your infamous meets so you could meet them.

You don't normally film your fan meetings, they are normally just a one on one gatherings between you and your fans,  but your team thought it could be a good idea to record today’s meet and upload parts of it for your weekly EPISODE, these were greatly appreciated by your international fans and other fans who wanted to see a little more into your personal life.

You were currently hanging out with the small group of fans you invited over. A group of around 10 boys and girls were currently sitting on the fluffy carpeted floor and some were sitting on plush chairs randomly spread in front of you. (a/n i imagine this setting like the Zach Sang Show, for the Ariana Grande interview episodes) 

You were sitting in front of them on a small white couch for two. Once everyone was comfortably settled in, you introduced yourself and invited the others to do so as well, one by one telling you their name, username, pronouns, age, and fun facts about them. You smiled wide, happy to be able to meet such amazing people and also making mental notes to remember their names and facts. 

After the personal introductions your camera crew was set up and ready to start, you told your fans sitting in front of you about how today's meet was going to be recorded and asked for their consent to upload said video; and then proceed to open for the camera; 

“Hello everyone welcome to another episode of…. f** I don't even know what we call these videos, jajajaja” 

Your fans sitting in front of you stated the name of the youtube series in a heartbeat;

“Wait what?... jajajajaja omg guys thank you, I'm so sorry, yeah you heard them, welcome back to y/n’s camera roll, I can’t believe I forgot that, anyway today’s episode is a little different……” you proceed to explain what the episode was about and thanking the future viewers for tuning in and watching the video. “Waw what a long introduction, so, before we actually go on and have the meet while you guys at home enjoy, I want to introduce you to the lovely group of people who I have invited here today….” Again proceed to introduce your fans to the camera by name, trying to not miss anyone and not butcher any name in the process.

After the introduction is done you porcede to carry out the fan meet like you normally do, you normally have scheduled sections of activities during your meets to make them fun; For today’s meet you all played games and did a couple challenges with your fans; then you recorded a couple of tik toks and instagram stories your fans asked you to be in, and casually all hung out. After a while of comfortable chatting and laughter, you wanted to hype up the mood. You turned down the lights, turned on some color  LED lights and had a dance party with everyone invited, dancing and going all out to popular music.

After being all drained from the heavy physical activities, you ordered a variety of food for your fans, like pizza and pasta, sushi, tacos, snacks, etc. and had a muckbang/eating section for the episode as well.

You were having so much fun, you looked around while eating and just by looking at their excited and happy faces you couldn help but feel complete and thankful for all of your fans.

After filling up on food, you carried out the Q&A section of the meet, allowing fans to ask you personal questions and conversing on various topics. The camera director gave you instructions to proceed with the questions, you nodded and thanked him and the staff for their hard work, turning on your heel and sitting back in your spot you tuned to the main camera: “Hi, quick update, sorry I haven't been so interactive with the camera in this episode for everyone watching at home, but I have been having so much fun and I am not used to having a camera crew for my normal fan meets, I’m sorry. Anyway now we will move on, I am going to answer some questions and hopefully this is entertaining enough  for the EPISODE hahaha” the crew and fans present chucked as you finished the small interruption.

And the questions began. A girl sitting in the back, raised her hand and spoke; “yeah um, I’m sorry I wanted to  see if I could start the questions, idk if the others are okay with that”. The rest of the group nodded sweetly at her, others replied with short “yeah’s”. She then proceeded nervously “thankyou g-guys, um I’m sorry before my question, is there anything we cannot ask you or..?

You sweetly smiled at her shyness and consideration, you tried your best to make her comfortable, “You are so cute, hahaha, thankyou for being considerate, but I really can’t think of anything that I am not allowed to answer or talk about, let me ask my manager...do I Sam?” you shifted your upper body to the side where the crew was standing, your manager Sam shook his head, you don't really have any tea to be spilled anyway so he is pretty confident and comfortable allowing you to be 100% in control. 

“Okay if Sam says it’s cool, it's okay  jajaja. You can ask me anything”

The girl then proceeded to ask her question, and waited for you to answer.

Time went by, and it was pretty cool to see what your fans were interested in learning about you, after some time the group continued asking you questions like “who is your biggest inspiration? favorite song?, favorite thing about being on tour? what would you do if you weren't a singer? etc.

One of the boys in the group spoke; “Hi, y/n, can I ask you another question?” you nodded and signaled him to proceed; 

“I saw that you liked an instagram post about BTS a while back uploaded by a fan account and I also saw that you actually follow their personal twitter account. ALSO in your behind the scenes video for your music video shoot you can be seen in the background dancing the Boy with luv choreo. So I wanted to ask if you were an ARMY and if you know them personally? and like should we be expecting a collaboration soon?”

You chucked at his talking speed, curious questions and great detective skills.

 Before you answered you mentally told yourself to hold back and not go all cRAzY fAnGirL on them, you inhaled and answered:

“OMG hahaha I love you so much, what an amazing question, Okay so first off no I don’t know them personally and sadly no plans of collaboration are on sight. Oh wow I have never been asked if I liked BTS before, I’m excited hahaha. Yeah I am an ARMY, I love them so much I am one of their biggest fans, and they are also one of my biggest inspirations when it comes to work ethic and professionalism, listening to them or watching them gives me motivation to keep doing what I love, which is this. 

anyway I am rambling I should stop; you guys can say y/n stop whenever I start rambling okay? hahaha''

The group in front of you laughed and added some extra comments on your response.

After a couple comments back and forth you realized something… and asked out loud, 

“Wait so, how many of you guys here are actually ARMYs?”, 

all of the sudden the 10 fans sitting in front of you raised their hands. 

“So you guys are telling me literally everyone of you is a fellow ARMY and didn't tell me until now?” everyone chuckled and looked around surprises at the coincidence 

You were already feeling shy after talking so much about yourself before so you redirected the activity, “Guys should we actually talk about BTS for a bit? hahaha” you asked your fans

This made a girl raise her hand and ask: “Can I ask you a BTS question then? Okay so, who is your favorite member?

You loved the new conversation topic. You answered truthfully: “Well first off, I don't have a favorite member. I really mean it when I say this. I love them all equally and I love them all as a group. I don’t prefer one over the other or like one better.  I really do support them equally. I mean there is nothing wrong with having a bias, as long as you also respect the other members, hope that all made sense lol” Everyone seemed moved by your support towards them and nodded.

“Y/n so you don’t have a favorite, but do you have a crush on any of them?, like if you could date one of them right now, which one do you pick?” A fan asked.

You looked at her and really thought about how to answer said question in the best way possible; “okay...well...Like I said just to be clear I don't have favorites amongst the group members, but I do have a type…. I consider one of them to be my celebrity crush” you answered, starting out slow and finishing by blurting out the last part.

Your fans in front of you went crazy, they leaned over their seats wanting to feel closer to you and not miss anything you were saying as you took a breath to continue speaking.

“So in that case, if I had to pick someone that I would date in real life...i would say…. Jungkook'' The room was filled with surprised remarks, small comments and squeals.

“Omg guys chill hahaha, breathe, it's just a crush I don’t know him and it's not going to happen. It's just that I find him really attractive and he is my type.”

The fans kept raising their hands to ask you various questions about BTS,

the camera director and manager signaled you to get your attention after you finished answering other questions and told you you only had time for one more question before the fan meet was over.

“Okay guys so apparently we have time for one more question, so make it a good one, it can be about anything, shoot” you said as you leaned over to reach for your water bottle, swung the bottle and pointed to someone on the corner of your eye who seemed to have one last question, as you drank some water they asked: “I have a last BTS question if you don’t mind y/n” 

Still gulping water you moved your hand indicating them that is was okay and to go on,

“okay, um I just thought about this, do you have like a specific fantasy or make up scenario about BTS that you could only dream could come true; like I wish i could walk into a café shop and suddenly meet V, realizing we were reading the same book and covering for hours”

That was such a deep and personal question, you had never once thought anyone would be interested in what your fantasies where; you thought it might be boring for your fans if you went on and on about  stupid make believe scenarios that live in your head rent free. But seeing everyones approving faces over the question and the intrigued eyes they were shooting at you, you spoke: “I love that question, and your scenario is so cute, you should write a tumblr post about it, (a/n wink wink) well yeah I obviously have created fake scenarios in my head about BTS, past crushes, fake arguments even hahaha, there are so many BTS fake scenarios in my head…. hmm oh I know which one, okay so this fantasy of mine is about how I would meet them irl and work with them, I will make it quick”

You kinda chuckled at yourself, playing with the cap on your water bottle, you felt as if you were about to say something really cringy and embarrassing. You took a deep breath and started the narration of the sinopsis of your personal fanfic created by you. 

“Okay so, my literal fantasy is to one day meet them at a talk show, you know how hosts like will surprise their guests with something/someone they like?, I believe Ellen has done it multiple times where she surprised a guest with their idol or celebrity crush, you know?” The group nodded, invested in your fake scenario “Well i would be invited to like the Jimmy Fallon Show, where he would just randomly surprise me with BTS. Then I would be given the opportunity to introduce myself and tell them how much I love and support them. I would also be able to show them my Korean speaking skills, I learned Korean and Spanish back in school and I have never been able to actually use either them, lol, anyway...well after that we would all become really good friends, and we would collaborate and put out one or multiple songs for you guys. I mean that's basically it, I wish I could meet them, and become their friend and write songs with them, even produce songs with Suga or RM if I could'' you sighed as you ended your mini narration.

You continued; “But well, that's just a fake scenario I repeat, it's not real and it's not gonna happen, EVER. For now I will keep supporting and loving them with you and the rest of ARMY. I really doubt they even know who I am, anyway” you closed the conversation at that. Your fans seemed like they wanted to say something but your camera director called you over before anyone could say something else. You excuse yourself and walk over to the cameras and lights set up where the staff is.

*your fans were really confused, and this you didn't know, but your fans knew for a fact that BTS knew very well who you were. The fans even knew which member has continuously admitted to having a platonic crush on you for years now, ever since you first blew up, back when you were 16 and he was 17. Your fans knew how you are one of BTS’s favorite artists, and this was no secret, you could literally look all this information up... 

They didn’t understand how you could have no idea how famous you actually are* They talked amongst themselves about this while you talked to your team.

Your manager and camera director indicated you to do an outro for the video’s footage and other instructions. You nodded your head and smiled, you took a step back and bowed your head towards the staff behind the cameras and thanked them for their work.

You then walked towards the group of fans and told them you had to do an outro for the camera if that was okay with them; you then sat with them on the floor while side hugging the two fans next to you, you directed yourself to the camera:  “Okay guys so sadly today’s meet is now over, I am really sad I wish we could hang out for longer, thank you so much for coming and making today so fun and special” you then turned to the camera “And for my other amazing supporters who are going to watch this on youtube, today was just a little scoop into my life like the other y/n’s camera roll EPISODES, in case you are interested in other videos like this one you can visit head to the channel where this video was uploaded and watch more! hopefully you guys had fun with us! I adore you all, thank you! Please Spread love always, y/n out” you waved as the camera director said “CUT” and the crew cut the cameras.

Your manager then stood up and directed everyone to get ready to leave, also thanking them for always supporting you and taking care of you, you smiled at your amazing manager and looked back at your fans while they picked up their stuff, smiling sadly.

You said your goodbye to everyone one-by-one as they headed out.

After lots of farewell hugs, kisses, selfies, and gifts, you went home with a smile on your face for the amazing time you had.

You went to bed, turned your phone on silent mode and looked at your ceiling,  reliving that fake scenario you talked about a few hours ago, oh how you wished it could become real (a/n hehe wink wink). Finally dozing off and resting for the work-packed day you had tomorrow unaware that your social media was currently going crazy and how they yearned for your new weekly EPISODE to come out.

Part 2- Jungkook’s POV --------> here

thank you so much, please interact with me to let me know if you like this :) Xx

[asterekmess]

Heyo! So I’ve been in the sterek fandom for quite some time now and I’ve been wondering about how you would describe stiles’ personality?

I’ve never actually sat down and watched a full episode of teen wolf (and honestly I’m not sure if I ever will considering everything I’ve heard about how they treat derek and his history but idk who knows I’m very curious in a lot of the plot lines and character development), and a lot of the stuff I know about the show I’ve scraped from fics, gifs, and meta posts

For me personally, Stiles’ personality and characterization is so fluid and nuanced that sometimes I have trouble pinning him down (tho derek doesn’t have trouble with that *wink wink*) So I would love to hear your thoughts! Sorry for the long ask, this grew legs and an ugly mug shdhdhhdjdcj anyhow have a great day :D

Well, everybody's got different perspectives and opinions on Stiles' personality, honestly. Even when you try to stick to 'canon' things, there's a lot of room for interpretation on the why when he does things, or what it says about him as a person, etc etc etc.

Personally, I see canon Stiles as kind of an asshole. I mean, I love him, and he does some incredible things, and he's clearly got an intense love for those close to him. But I do make him kinder in fics, or I at least make him regret being a dick.

In canon, we're given a Stiles who cracks 'dead baby' jokes (he's talking about human sacrifice, so the conversation was already plenty morbid. This wasn't out of the blue.) Who begs for Scott to let Jackson die (though it's made clear that this wasn't serious, and he later works to save Jackson's hide like ten times over), and who will mercilessly poke and prod at people's insecurities or painful pasts, especially when worked up. Isaac's previous abuse isn't a no-go topic. Derek having 'dated' (read: been assaulted at worst and at best, been lied to) serial killers isn't something he's going to tread lightly around. He doesn't try to soften things to save someone's feelings most of the time.

He's presented as someone who is incredibly impulsive, with his emotions, words, and actions. It's kind of implied this is because of his ADHD, but that doesn't explain how often the impulsively cruel or harsh things he says aren't retracted or apologized for, or just generally regretted. Yes, ADHD people are impulsive, and yes sometimes our mouths get away from us and we can end up saying some Fucked Up shit to people because we literally couldn't control the words coming out. But that doesn't mean we're cruel or evil or mean. We still feel bad for doing those things, and those of us who are decent people, try to fix or repair what we've messed up. I am...not a fan of how often ADHD is used as an excuse to make a character a dickhead because "he has no filter." No filter means we struggle to control our thoughts and what we say, it doesn't make us heartless.

So, when I'm writing him, I fix it. Even if he still Does something fucked up, I have him care that he did it. I have him realize what he did or said wasn't okay and respond to that knowledge in some way. Which to some people, means I'm just ignoring what a fucker he is, but imo it feels like a horrible fuckup on the creator's parts, so I'm just correcting the mistake. He's no less Stiles just bc I taught him to say sorry.

Anyway. I'm trying NOT to ramble here.

To answer your question, as best I can; Stiles is sarcastic. Stiles is passionate to a fault. His emotions are BIG, whatever they are. Good, Bad, or even apathy. Whatever feelings he has are just intense. He is very much a no gods, no kings, no masters, kind of man. There isn't really an 'authority' to him, except maybe his dad sometimes. He puts family, and those he considers family, First. But that doesn't mean he isn't selfless. Because he is. Incredibly so. Uncomfortably so.

He walks into gasoline for his friends. He puts himself in the position of losing the only parent he has left, for his classmates. He cares enough about strangers to insist a drunk girl he's spoken to for five minutes max stay hydrated and give her a bottle of water. He literally handed over his mind on a platter to a fox demon for someone he barely fucking knew, to keep her safe.

Loyal. Humorous. A fighter. Family-oriented. Clever. Passionate. Strong, physically, mentally, and emotionally. And a very good liar, in my opinion.

He doesn't lie very well in the show, not to people's faces. He'll stumble around a "I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him" or "are you asking me to tell you what I would have told you if I were going to tell you it?" but at the same time, he can repress and hide away his feelings and his pain in a way not even Derek manages.

He asked Caitlin questions about her girlfriend, and worked to solve the human sacrifices, literal minutes after finding out he'd just lost his oldest friend. He drove Lydia to the warehouse to save Jackson after having the shit beat out of him by a man who'd been learning to cause pain since he was a CHILD. And he never gives away how incredibly broken he is for more than a couple seconds. and it's a little frightening, because he convinces people in this show who are lie detectors that he's okay, when he's a fucking mess. Even Derek shows his pain.

You're right that he's nuanced, and part of that is because when you see him in meta or in fic, what you're seeing is a dozen versions of him sort of compressed into a flat image. Because he changes throughout the show, and while some of his core personality stays the same, a lot of stuff changes. So one fic might harp on his insensitivity, and callousness toward Isaac or how easily he says "just let them die" when talking about Derek or someone else. And then another will dive into how fucking far he's willing to go, travelling all the way to mexico and facing down a hunter clan a dozen times more powerful than the argents with no one but a banshee at his side, just to get Derek back. Or how he saw Malia hurting and sat with her on a couch and held her hand. One is a much earlier version of Stiles, from the start of the show, the other from his midpoint. Near the end, you're able to say that he was so torn about leaving Derek while he was dying, he had to be Begged to go save Scott. That he manipulated an ENTIRE FBI investigation in order to save and protect Derek. (im focusing on derek bc sterek, but also bc his relationship with Derek is the Biggest Arc he has in the show, and the most solid)

You're going to read about different versions of him, and I totally get how that's confusing.

We all sort of bleed ourselves into him and either bring certain canon characteristics to the forefront, or straight up add our own so he's more relatable to us.

So while I can't really help you pin down any specific Stiles, just know that there's not really a 'true' Stiles that anyone can confirm or deny. It's all just perception, so however you see him, go with it. Strengthen it. Explore it. I'm sure you'll find people who see what you do.

[streetlight11]

Deep Scar

Summary: He used to be the popular kid in high school where everyone has a crush on him. He always gets Valentine's Day gifts be it presents, chocolates, homemade brownies, etc. He somehow brought his name to college where there were people who still finds him attractive. What happens when he bumps into a girl who treated him a lot different compared to others? Will he find out the truth behind her behaviour?

Theme: college au, childhood schoolmates but with a bad past

Genre: a little angsty, fluff ending though

Warnings: mild swearing (literally just one word), slight mention of harassment but nothing too crazy

WC: 4.6k

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hey hey :) I've had this in my google drive for quite sometime so my writing might not be so good here but bear with me. P.S the words in italics are his flashback, and hannie might sound like a jerk at one point but this doesn't portray him in real life because irl he's an absolute sweetheart :') Anyways, enjoy reading!

Coming to campus every morning only to find gifts and plenty of love letters in his locker has been becoming a daily routine for Jisung. Although he has never actually reciprocated any of them, he must admit that he did love the amount of attention that’s been drawn to him since back in high school.

He was the popular kid in school where he was known for his intelligence, charming personality and of course, his good looks.

Back in high school, girls would often slot in their confession letters in his locker almost everyday. Every Valentine’s Day, his table would be filled with chocolates and homemade brownies specially for him.

But all of those gifts would eventually be passed to his close friends for them to finish it for him.

Even now when he’s already in college, words spread around the campus of his status back in Saebom High, making everyone in Hankuk College know about him. Despite this new set of attention that was being directed towards him, he managed to make friends with a few people that he trusts.

Some of them were his classmates in college, some were his friends from music class, and some were his good friends back in high school. 

That day was no different as he walked down the hall to go to his designated locker, only to find a pink paper that had been folded into a cute little heart.

“Another love letter? Dude, at this point you should really date one of them so that this whole shenanigan would stop.” Chan said with a soft chuckled as Minho and Jeongin nodded in agreement with the elder boy. Jisung rolled his eyes as he unfolded the paper and read the confession, that was pretty much the same as the other notes he received.

All of which, never got reciprocated simply because Jisung believes he hasn’t found anyone that peaked his interest yet.

After about 5 minutes, he slammed his locker shut as the four boys began to walk down the hall, not missing the constant shy giggles and whispers from every direction. Jisung simply walked with his charming smile plastered on his face, making some girls feel their heart flutter in their chest.

Just when they had made a left turn, a figure smaller than them came crashing straight into Jisung’s shoulder, causing both individuals to stumble back a step from the impact.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass.” The girl who was rubbing her shoulder said as she locked eyes with him firmly. Jisung was slightly baffled as no other girl would even dare to look at him straight in the eye.

“Excuse me?” He said, his voice clearly confused but the girl simply rolled her eyes at him, slightly annoyed.

“You heard me. I don’t have to say it twice.” 

“Do you even know who I am?” He asked, slowly starting to feel anger boiling through his veins.

“Do you think I care?” She taunts.

“Other girls would be scrambling away by now.”

“Oh, how exciting. Next time, wear side goggles so you can watch where you’re going.” Was all she said before she shoves past him to continue her journey down the hall to go to her class.

Everyone in that hallway was surprised with their little interaction. Some of them even snickered at her for behaving that way in front of him. As far as he knows, all the girls in school never dared to speak to him in person, nor would they even look at him straight in the eyes for they would either run away in embarrassment, or their face would turn flushed red.

Jisung tried not to think much of it as he continued his walk to his class.

During lunch, the boys had gathered at their usual table. However, Hyunjin and Seungmin were running slightly late this time. They were just a few bites into their meal when Hyunjin’s voice caught everyone at their table’s attention.

“Hey guys! Is it okay if our new friend joins us? She just transferred here so me and Seungmin offered her to have lunch with us.”

At the mention of a female, Jisung whips his head around, only to lock eyes with the same girl he bumped into just a few hours prior.

“You again? Try not to miss your mouth this time when you eat.” She said as her gaze locked on Jisung, leaving him speechless.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchanged glances at each other in confusion but decided to just carry on with lunch as they ended up sitting with her. If she weren’t too direct, Jisung could almost agree that she was acting quite the opposite towards Hyunjin and Seungmin. Maybe with the others as well. She seemed genuinely friendly and almost effortlessly bright with them. 

If he was being honest, it almost upsets him that she treated him like an outcast as compared to the rest of his close friends. Days slowly but surely became weeks as she started to grow visibly close to Hyunjin and Seungmin probably because they were her classmates.

It was a Friday evening and they all decided to go to a pool bar where they had pool tables for people to play and also have light drinks if they wanted to.

They rented out two tables for themselves as they divided into two teams.

“Y/N! Join our team!” Hyunjin called as Y/N giggled, only for her to catch Jisung staring at her from one of the high stools beside the bar.

“I’ll join if he does.” 

She said as she nodded her head towards Jisung, only for the others to immediately drag him to Hyunjin’s pool table. The game soon started as Hyunjin served first. She seems to surprise them everytime she serves because all her shots were smooth and almost effortless. It was as if she’s done this multiple times.

“Wow, how are you so good at this?” Seungmin asked as she smiled at him, only to answer his question.

“I guess I’m pretty good at aiming.”

The boy giggled as they watched Hyunjin score a ball. All the while, Jisung was silently watching her by the side. 

Not in a creepy way but more like in a confused way. After they finished their one hour at the pool bar, they left to get dinner but she decided to call it a day for her and that she needed to go home to feed her starving kitty.

The boys bid her goodbye as she left, only for Changbin to question his friend.

“Jisung ah, you cannot tell me you’re not the slightest bit intrigued by her…”

With that, Jisung frowned as his mind came swirling back to all the times they’ve hung out with her and gotten to know her better. From all the mean comments tossed at each other like they were flat bread, to the time where she seemed genuinely concerned when Jisung nearly got run over by a speeding truck.

“No… No I’m not.”

Only he knows that it was a total lie but he wasn’t going to admit it to his friends. 

His ego was too high for him to easily admit that after all these years of girls trying so hard to win his attention, all he needed was Y/N to come into the picture and that was all it took for him to finally fall for someone.

Nobody needed to know his true feelings for her. He didn’t think it would be much of a big deal so he opted to keep his feelings to himself. It was another week into April, when Chan decided to invite them over to his apartment to hang out and chill on a chilly Saturday. Chan of course included Y/N in the list, hence the reason why she was currently standing outside his apartment door.

She was wearing a brown fitted crop top, her favourite denim ripped skinny jeans, a bomber jacket and her white converse.

She was greeted by Chan as he opened the door wider for her to enter.

She made it inside only to find Felix and Minho challenging each other in a game of Mario Kart Race. Hyunjin, Seungmin and Changbin were busy playing Call Of Duty on their phones. Jisung, Jeongin and Chan were in the kitchen, cooking up some hot kimchi stew.

Y/N took off her jacket as she went to snuggle in between Changbin and Hyunjin, watching them play an intense game of COD.

She was just laying her head on Changbin’s shoulder when he jerked forward, making her body shake as he turned to Hyunjin and high fived him after winning first place. Just then, he noticed the sad pout on her face at the loss of warmth, making him giggle as he sat back down to let her rest her head on his shoulder again before he whispered.

“Sorry baby.” She giggled as she pinched his abs, making him squeak. He laughed as he corrected himself.

“I’m just kidding.”

She smiled as she nuzzled into his shoulder while they were all occupied with doing their own things. A few minutes later, the 3 boys from the kitchen came back to the living room with the pot of kimchi stew and a rice bowl. 

However, Y/N didn’t miss the subtle frown on Jisung’s face when he saw her leaning her head against Changbin’s shoulder.

The 9 of them began eating diligently as they fit in almost any possible topic they could think off. After they finished their meal, she offered to wash the dishes since they were all busy. Chan told her not to trouble herself but she insisted on helping him.

She was scrubbing the second last bowl when she heard Jeongin’s voice calling from the living room.

“Noona! Come join us after you’re done washing the dishes okay? We’re gonna play truth or drink!”

“Okay Jeonginie.” She sang in a sing-song tune as she could hear some of them chuckle in the back.

As promised, she joined them after she was done with the last bowl, only to sit in between Minho and Seungmin. They went in a circle starting from Chan. It was in a circle until it reached her, only for Changbin to eagerly raise his hand.

“Oh! Oh! I have a good one!” Changbin said as his inner corner of the lips curved up into a cute smile, making her giggle.

“If you could go back to your past, what is the one thing that you would choose not to do?” His question was good. It was theoretical but good.

Suddenly, her eyes just instantly found Jisung’s soft brown ones as she told them her answer.

“The one thing I would choose not to do? Probably allowing myself to think that whatever people said to me was true.”

The guys started to frown as they asked if something bad happened to her back then but she simply shrugged them off and told them to continue the game. It went on until it was Jisung’s turn, only for Y/N to speak up.

“I have something I wanna ask him.”

This came as a surprise for the others but they let her do the honours anyway.

“Do you remember the girl who confessed to you back in high school?” She said. His eyebrows began to link together as he frowned at her sudden question.

“Huh?”

“The one where you rejected her confession by humiliating her in front of the whole school?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Think harder.” She said.

Suddenly, memories start to flood in his mind like a flash flood.

“H-Hi. I made these for you. I hope you like cupcakes. I k-know a lot of other girls do this for you too, b-but… I-I just thought maybe I should give you something too. I- umm, I like y-you Han Jisung.” The girl confessed as she held out the box filled with her homemade cupcakes that she took time to bake for him the night before.

She bit the inside of her cheeks nervously as she diligently avoided his gaze. Just when she saw his arms reaching out to her thinking he was going to take the box from her, he forcefully smashed the box down making it slip out of her hands.

The students around them began to laugh as Jisung lifted a brow at her.

“Did you really think I’d accept your confession? Look at you. Who would date a girl who ties their hair in pigtails, have her tummy sticking out of her uniform shirt and constantly push the bridge of your spectacles up every 5 minutes? Have you seen yourself in a mirror? Nobody will ever fall for you.”

With that being said, he kicked the metal box away to reveal the fallen cupcakes as he went ahead and stepped on them like it was an insect.

The whole school laughed at her as she ran to the girls bathroom and locked herself in there as she cried her heart out. She was only 13 so it was slightly depressing for her to go through this terrible rejection.

Not only did he reject her in cold blood, he also humiliated her in front of everybody in the process. However, what made her even more upset is the fact that he didn’t seem to feel the slightest bit of remorse for saying those things to her.

That memory was as clear as day as he winced at the thought of how immature he was back then. Nevertheless, he didn’t forget the question he got from Y/N as he went ahead to answer her.

“Yeah… Yeah I remember…”

“Do you remember what you said to her?” Her voice softened as she kept her eyes on him while the rest of them had their eyes trained back and forth between Jisung and her.

“I said… I said she should look at herself in the mirror and that no one will ever fall for her.” 

The boys were shocked by how harsh he was to that said girl. Y/N could only smile sadly to him as she slowly continued. 

“Do you feel bad saying those things to her now?” 

Without much thought, he replied something that broke her heart.

“Why should I?” With that, she tried to hold back her tears as she looked at him dead in the eye before saying these next few words.

“Looks like you’re still that same cocky bastard huh?”

She soon got up from her seat on the floor, only to grab her things to leave when Jisung stood up to grab her wrist, stopping her from taking any more steps further.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, now genuinely confused as to what was going on.

“You’re really dense for someone as arrogant as you.” A scoff left her lips as her eyes bore into his, hoping he understood what she meant. After what felt like forever, Jisung finally realized as it was as though his life just flashed before his eyes.

“Wait… that was you?!” His voice was loud as it was laced with confusion and slight disappointment.

“And what happens if I say yes? Are you gonna ask me if I’ve looked into the mirror and realize that no one will ever fall for me?”

Her words stinged like venoms as he winced yet again but this time, at how hurt she seemed. She didn’t realise this but her tears were no longer held back as a few droplets rolled down her cheeks.

“Your words hurted me back then. So I tried to ignore it and move on. But when you said your answer just now, I realized that maybe you really are just an arrogant jerk.”

She finally pulled her arm out of his grasp as she left without sparing a glance to the others. Jisung has never felt so utterly remorseful, today was the first time. He mentally scolded himself for saying those words back when he was young and immature.

He has never felt so fucked up before, this was definitely the first.

A few days went by, Y/N hasn’t talked to either of the boys, not even Hyunjin and Seungmin. Every time Jisung tried to reach out to her, she would always successfully avoid him. It has been almost 2 weeks since they last talked to her as the boys agreed to go release their stress by going to the downtown club.

They had booked a booth for all 8 of them as they sat in there with some girls coming back and forth to try and get laid with either one of them.

Just then, Jisung’s eyes seemed to scan the room only to see a familiar figure dancing freely on the dance floor. He frowned as he rubbed his eyes to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on him.

He double confirmed that it was in fact Y/N, as he got up and left the booth ignoring the boy’s calls.

Right when he was about to reach the dance floor, he saw her deliberately get dragged through the sweaty, intoxicated humans and towards the back door. He followed them close behind as he saw her struggling to free herself from the man’s hold.

The minute she was out the back, the man pushed her against the brick wall as he attacked her neck forcefully.

“Stop!” She begged.

The man ignored as he started to caress her waist and moved up.

“Stop it!” She tried again as tears started to roll down her cheeks desperately.

The minute she managed to put a distance between herself and the man, the metal back door swung open harshly only for her to lock eyes with Jisung as he rushed down the steps, only to land a solid punch to the man’s jaw.

The man fell to the ground drunkenly as he struggled to stand back up.

“What the fuck man? Get your own girl!” The man said as he grabbed Y/N’s wrist and was about to pull her when Jisung roughly shoved him off again.

The man threw a few drunk punches to Jisung and soon they were both in a fist fight. The two males were starting to have blood clots and bruises all over their bodies and faces when Hyunjin and Changbin came to stop the fight.

“Jisung! Jisung! That’s enough!” Hyunjin yelled as they both grabbed Jisung by his arms and pulled him back.

“Don’t ever touch her again.” Jisung growled as the man stumbled back into the club.

Y/N frowned as she visibly hugged herself, only to see Hyunjin and Changbin give Jisung a subtle nod before they both went back inside, giving privacy to Jisung and Y/N. Once they were alone in the dark alley, that’s when she spoke up.

“Why did you come? Afraid someone might fall for me?”

“You clearly weren't comfortable with him.”

“So what? Why do you care? It’s not like he would fall in love with me. Who am I for someone to even like me? Right?”

Jisung frowned as he called out her name softly but she was quick to intercept.

“I didn’t go to Hankuk to get back at you for what you did to me. Never in a million years did I think I’d even see you again. But now that you’re standing here in front of me, that very day comes back to haunt me again. Because of your words, I have been so afraid of falling for someone, even just a tiny crush. That’s what you did to me Han Jisung and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”

With that being said, she turned in her heels and left. Jisung stood there like an idiot as he cursed himself for letting her walk away yet again. 

If this happened back in high school, he would probably laugh at her. But now that he was actually starting to like her, he has never felt so upset and disappointed. This was probably even worse than a break up.

She refused to speak to him for days after as she avoided everyone in the friend group.

It was a gloomy Friday night as she was laying on her couch sideways, watching a sappy romantic movie to drown her sadness. She was wearing a loose sweater that made it look like a dress on her. Her calf high socks and a pair of shorts she always wore to sleep.

She had just thought about what she could get for supper when there was a knock on her door.

“Who the hell comes at a time like this?” She thought to herself as she went over to her door and opened it without checking the peephole first. She almost stumbled as she locked eyes with the same pair of brown orbs that she’s been trying so hard to avoid for the past few weeks.

“Jisung? What are you doing here?” She asked, genuinely shocked at how he knew her address.

“Y/N, can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Please just hear me out. I don’t need you to say anything, I just need you to listen.”

She fell silent for a moment before she opened the door wider for him to enter. Once inside, he followed her to her living room, only for them to sit 3 feet apart. She urged him with a slight nod as he took a deep breath and soon began.

“Look. I know whatever I did to you back then was horrible. It was my ego talking. I didn’t know any better. We were so young… How could I possibly feel bad at the time when all I thought was to reject you?”

Just then, she cut him in by saying something that made him rethink his choices.

“You’re telling me that everything you said to me meant nothing to you just because it wasn’t you who received it?”

“I… I wasn’t thinking. I was young-”

“Bullshit. Even a 5 year old kid knows what’s nice and what’s hurtful to say to others. Don’t pull the young card on me.”

“Y/N please-”

“Get out. If you’re still gonna be the same arrogant, highly egoistic jerk then get out. You’ve said things that left a deep scar in my life and here you are saying it doesn’t mean anything? Get out.”

“Y/N-”

“I said get out!” She finally screamed as her chest was heaving, her tears streaming down her face in anger but she didn’t care. She got up as she dragged him to the door, while he tried to fight back. The minute he was out, she slammed the door behind her only to lock it as she found herself sliding down the door, only to sit on the wooden floor.

Her cries were soft, but they were filled with so much pain. On the other side of the door, Jisung could hear her cries as he too kneeled on the ground with his hands against the door.

He could hear her loud and clear as he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He couldn’t bear to say a word to her as he remained quiet.

The next morning, Y/N woke up suddenly wanting to get herself breakfast to clear her memory from last night. She got out of bed, took a warm shower, got changed into her sweatpants, a big hoodie and a cap. She unlocked her door and had just taken a step outside when she jumped at the slight of Jisung seated on the ground beside her apartment door.

Since he was a light sleeper, the sound of her door opening, woke him up as he quickly got on both feet.

Before she could re-enter her apartment, he pressed his palms against the door to prevent her from closing it as he spoke up softly.

“Y/N, please, please let me explain.” He begged as she wasn’t sure why but she decided to let him in. Once he was inside, they didn’t even bother to go anywhere further into her apartment as he stood by the door and began to explain himself.

“Y/N, please listen to me. I know what I did was bad. At the time, I didn’t realise how humiliating it was for you. But now that I’m an adult, I realized that my actions were extremely horrible and I would never, ever do that to anyone now.” He paused before he continued on.

“I know that whatever I said and did back then, I can’t take any of it back. And I don’t blame you for not forgetting or forgiving me for it. I admit that I deserve this from you. All I ask is for you to give me another chance to start over. But I understand if you want nothing to do with me.” He said with a tiny hope laced in his voice although he wasn’t so confident that she would forgive him this time.

She knew he felt guilty for whatever he did back then so it wasn’t wrong for her to give him a second chance right?

“How would I know you’re not just acting this way to set me up for humiliation again?” She asked.

“Would I say all those things and bring my ego down just to prove that I felt like utter shit after everything you told me, only to humiliate you even further?”

“Nobody knows what your ego is capable of.”

“If my words won’t convince you, would my actions do?”

“What if you do it, only to leave and tell on me to everyone else?”

“I can’t seem to get your trust now, can I?”

“Try being in my shoe and you’ll know.”

“Y/N please… I know I left a deep scar on you emotionally and mentally back then, but please… I beg you, please just… let me start over. I need you to trust me just this once.”

“Fine. But if you abuse my trust, I’m never speaking to you again.” 

“Believe me, you have no idea how fucked up I felt that night at Chan’s.”

Right after he finished his sentence, he didn’t waste anymore time as he reached up to cup her face in both hands and soon kissed her. She instantly melted against his body as he pulled her closer by the waist. His kisses were so gentle, as if he was afraid he would break her again.

His touch was soft as he slid his hands under her shirt only to draw random patterns onto her waist.

Just then, he pulled away from her lips but it was so addicting he couldn’t help but peck her lips one last time before he spoke up.

“I’m really, really sorry Y/N for everything back then. I couldn’t help but feel like complete shit after that night when I found out that was you. You don’t have to forgive me, I totally understand.”

Y/N just smiled as she gently tangled her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck before she spoke up.

“Would I have let you kiss me if I was still mad?”

He remained quiet as she then continued.

“Besides, I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourself so please, don’t take advantage of this.” She warned gently.

Jisung kissed her for slightly longer before he pulled away and whispered against her lips.

“I promise.”

With that, she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest while he snaked his arms around her smaller figure. 

Ever since then, Jisung did everything he could to redeem himself for what he did to her back in high school. She slowly began to fall for him as she gave him a solid second chance and she could see how genuine he was now whenever he did something nice for her. Even if he didn’t say it out loud, she knew that he really tried his best to win her heart. And it worked.

~~~

[nanabbi]

Look. I love Hizashi as much the next person. But his Hero Hairdo? No. Just a plain no from me. I like the memes and yeah, it’s pretty characteristic, but what the heck was he thinking???

It’s A Matter of Spite. Thank you, @onemaebee for checking this over!

“Excuse me…?”

Hizashi couldn’t help but wonder if the battery of his hearing aids was running low again.

“Objectively.”

The Hero Public Safety Commission representative --or the stickler for short, as Hizashi had mentally dubbed him in his inability to gather enough investment to memorize his name-- who had summoned him here to supposedly speak about his Hero career, gestured vaguely in Hizashi’s direction.

Well… More precisely, he gestured at all of him.

“Objectively speaking, you are pretty,” the stickler added and sat straighter up his chair. Someone should have colored Hizashi surprised at this point, because he wasn’t expecting the dude to be able to sit any more like he had a cane up his--

“You have nice features,” he continued, clearly missing Hizashi’s distaste with how this conversation was going “And despite your--” his eyes very pointedly scanned over Hizashi’s leather jacket and its extra spiky shoulder-pads “--packaging, you have managed to attract certain demographics.”

Sure he had, and not thanks to your organization, bro.

Newbie Pro Hero with loud personality. Self-sacrificial and badass to a tee. Endearing human flaws. Excellent fashion sense and taste in music --thank you very much-- and all of that at barely twenty one.

Of course Present Mic was appealing to certain demographics.

“You are interested in media entertainment, aren’t you?” The stickler continued to speak when Hizashi failed to find a proper way to respond.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have a comeback, it was more that… HPSC did kind of have the power to defame him if he ended up running his mouth as he felt it right now. Having his fashion sense insulted by a man wearing a terrible plaid tie was one thing, but having them chip strongly on his career because he insulted their bureaucracy? Better be cautious with that.

“Radio,” Hizashi replied and hoped that he didn’t sound as annoyed as he felt.

“I am interested in radio, specifically. I have a voice quirk, as you might be aware?”

If the stickler noticed the sarcastic tone, he didn’t show it. Instead he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh as if Hizashi was being unreasonable.

“Yes, I know. But why? That’s kind of a waste, isn’t it?”

“Because that’s what I like!” The water glass he had been offered vibrated threateningly. Hizashi didn’t raise his voice much but catching the right frequency would be enough to shatter it. He took a deep breath and composed himself. “What exactly am I here for?”

“What do you think you’re here for?” The stickler asked, not seeming particularly bothered by the small ‘outburst.’

Hizashi glared. It wasn’t that he didn’t have many reserves of patience to offer, but this particular occasion didn’t feel worthy of his restrain.

“You want a poster boy,” he stated. If they stopped beating around the bush, maybe he could get this over with already.

Bad-tie-man had the audacity to smile and give Hizashi a patronizing nod of approval.

“Precisely, Mic. Appearances are the beginning and end to preserve good relations between Heroes and regular citizens. You have the looks already, and your persona is appropriate for handling crowds. If you decided to work with us and became a little more camera-friendly, we could put you on the top ten –if not top three- popularity chart when it comes to Heroes. You could help us keep common folk happy.”

“Camera friendly.”

There was no much hiding the pure un-amusement and borderline disgust Hizashi’s tone held at this point as he repeated these words.

The stickler’s plastic smile fell slightly, being replaced with a more professional strictness.

“You have a style. We respect that and wouldn’t dream of changing it completely. You are remembered by it after all, but we would have to implement some edits to show off your features more. Your fashion choices are so loud that I doubt people even notice what’s underneath it.”

Yeah. That was kind of the whole point, actually.

Hizashi loved the persona he had created. Present Mic was a great escape for him. He loved to entertain while being him. He loved to save people and be as over the top as he felt like, without worrying about how that looked, since it was part of the act. As an over-the-top Hero, acting the part didn’t raise many questions. He loved forgetting Hizashi’s problems when he strolled around like a peacock in Present Mic’s shiny leather clothes too.

He also loved how rarely he was recognized when he wasn’t Present Mic.

Hizashi needed some time of his own, to be as silent and still as he felt like, with no expectations to be anything more than a lazy pile. Kayama and Tensei didn’t mind him when he was like that. Aizawa… Well. Who knows what Aizawa was thinking about Present Mic, these days. Or even Hizashi for the matter.

The sleazy voice, coming up after translating his silence as an invitation to continue, was welcome this time.

That was a line of thinking he would rather avoid for the time being. It only ended to long alcohol-filled nights and Hizashi couldn’t afford that again. Present Mic was supposed to be on patrol tonight and he already had to ask Kanaya to cover for him twice this week.

“I’ve noticed you’re growing your hair.”

Taken aback by the observation, Hizashi’s fingers reflexively came to brush the hair, styled to heavily fall on one side and kept there with many layers of hair-spray. Hizashi had yet to decide how to style with the additional length so for now he had settled on the emo-punk look. It went well with Present Mic and nobody expected appearance-consistency so early in a Hero’s career (plus he hated people touching his hair and having it gelled discouraged them from it). The audience knew they would get Present Mic 2.0, 3.0 etc. It happened with most heroes.

“Yes?” He asked, sounding much more tired than he did a few moments ago, still feeling the remnants of pain that came whenever he thought of Aizawa these days. “What about it?”

“It is what drew our attention actually,” the stickler almost sung with a grin that made Hizashi fidget uncomfortably in his seat. “Made us take a closer look. Notice your potential.”

“Glad to know that through my work as a hero, it was my hair getting fancier that made you notice my potential,” Hizashi replied without even bothering to fake politeness. This felt like it was supposed to be a compliment but to Hizashi it sounded very much like an insult towards his abilities. “Cool priorities, there.”

This time, the stickler didn’t give him an eye-roll, but Hizashi felt the spirit of it passing over him anyway.

“I wouldn’t have called you if we didn’t already know of your skill.”

“But you did call me, because ‘I am pretty,’” the last words rolled off Hizashi’s lips laced with three doses of sarcasm and two of venom.

“It’s a package deal,” the stickler’s reply was drowned at the end by the sound of Hizashi’s chair scrapping against the floor as the blond stood.

“And a deal you won’t be getting,” the sleazy sweetness in his own voice, was overstated enough to make sure it was seen as fake. “Thank you for the interest. I think I am doing fine with my current agency.”

Hizashi expected to be interrupted before reaching the door. HPSC should start hiring less predictable people, with less predictable approaches (though it might be a good thing, no unpleasant surprises).

“Mic. Even if you don’t work with us, keep my words in mind. Image is important and you could use it.”

“Certainly,” Hizashi sang without even sparing the man a glance.

The door closed soundlessly behind him.

The bang came a week later.

Hizashi made damn sure that the fight in which he debuted his extra-gelled, pointy, cockatiel-stage-one hair was captured on camera and broadcasted on skyscrapers. It wasn’t even the final touch to the message he wanted to send to the Commission. It would take a few more months or maybe even years, but boy, could he not wait for their commentary on the upcoming moustache.

💛💛💛

[trulivin]

Not What Everyone Thinks

A/N: Yay I got another one done! LOL. Anyways, to the nonny who requested, I hope you enjoy. I hope I did a decent job at portraying Rafe. He’s more down to earth in this one so I don’t know if I like it too much. We’ll see. I rewatched OBX and like I’m telling you he is ten times fucked up than he is in here. Pardon my language, but hopefully you all will forgive me if he isn’t really like how he is in the show. Anyways, enjoy, send feedback, like, comment, etc.

Rafe Cameron x Reader, Outer Banks

Warnings: implied sexual innuendos? uhhh language. That’s it.

*gif isn’t mine*

Upon the request of Sarah Cameron, Y/N was enlisted to help decorate her mansion for her birthday party. She tried roping the rest of the Pogues into it, and Kie was originally going to help but was needed elsewhere at the time, and the boys opted out. Even John B. 

“Sorry sweetheart,” he had said with a peck on the cheek. “Whatever,” Sarah rolled her eyes and turned back to Y/N. “Fineeeee,” Y/N sighed, earning a hug. 

So, when the day finally arrived Y/N found herself walking up to the oh-so-familiar house she had spent many days with Sarah in. 

Y/N was essentially a Kook by blood, but, much like Kie, she chose to hang out with the Pogues, much to her mother’s disappointment. Sarah Cameron, however, had been her best friend growing up and remained a very good friend even when Y/N started hanging out with John B’s crew. 

For Y/N, she stayed out of the whole Kook versus Pogue thing. It was never something she, quite frankly, wanted to be involved in and she was thankful neither sides made her pick. It was absolutely ridiculous that the boys were constantly getting into fights. And, it was especially annoying when Rafe Cameron always decided to mess with JJ, John B, or Pope all the time. 

Y/N never understood why he did it. She had known him her whole life becoming friends even, because of Sarah, and then she saw what drugs did to him. It was quite depressing to watch, so Y/N didn’t and went to hang out with the Pogues instead.

Luckily, though, that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed on Tanneyhill anymore. Especially now that Sarah had to decorate the entire mansion. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Sarah said, opening the door for her. “I know,” Y/N laughed. Sarah playfully rolled her eyes and shoved her friend a bit before the two started their job. 

Y/N and Sarah were in the middle of stringing lights when she heard two approaching voices arguing down the hall. “Tonight is your sister’s birthday! Do not screw this up, Rafe! I’m sick of your inability to get anything done around here. You are almost twenty years old, it’s time to get it together son,” Ward chastised. 

“I told you, I’d get it!” Rafe argued back. “When?” Ward asked, extremely annoyed. “If I recall you were supposed to get the new parts ordered last week!”

“I know, but I swear I--” Rafe started but was cut off. 

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I have to help get everything in order tonight. Just get it done,” Ward spat, before crossing the living room. Sarah and Y/N exchanged nervous glances before Sarah’s mouth turned up into a grin. “Sorry you had to hear that,” Sarah giggled quietly before stepping down the ladder. “It’s fine,” the other girl smiled back.

“I have to go grab more lights, you good?” she asked. “Yep all good here,” Y/N said standing up on her toes a bit. 

As Y/N was focusing on trying not to fall off the ladder, she heard Sarah say, “Shouldn’t have taken that money to buy that stupid bike.” “Piss off Sarah,” Rafe snarled as Sarah laughed all the way down the hall. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe snapped at Y/N. “Putting up lights. What does it look like genius?” Y/N bit back, making a face, but not turning to face the pissed-off Kook. “I don’t recall Pogues being allowed in the house,” he hissed. 

Y/N turned to face him. Rafe was glaring at her. Instead of cowering away from him, like most people do, she glared right back. “If you do recall Rafe, I was once a Kook. I practically lived here my entire childhood,” Y/N hissed. 

“Yeah well that was until you and my sister ran off with the island trash,” Rafe spat. Y/N just glared at Sarah’s brother. Truth be told, a long time ago, the two actually liked each other when they were friends. They were only two years apart in age, and yeah, Y/N was his little sister’s friend, but she was one he never minded. At least until she ran off with the Pogues. 

“Why do you have to act like this?” Y/N asked, catching Rafe off guard. “What?” Rafe replied. 

“Why do you act like such a dick? We were friends once you know,” she said. 

“I’m not a dick,” Rafe scoffed, his anger subsiding a bit. Y/N snorted, “Yeah, you are. And you’re a big baby too, oh my god.” 

“Oh shut the hell up, Y/N,” Rafe grunted, slumping in the lounge chair. Y/N giggled hopping down from the ladder and moving to the balcony that overlooked the room. Her new position also happened to be nearly right in front of the moody boy. 

Rafe glanced up from messing with his shirt as Y/N placed the ladder a few feet from him. He found his eyes wandering up her legs and to the skin that showed when she reached up to hang the lights across the railing. “You’re staring,” Y/N sing-songed, not looking away from what she was doing.

Rafe felt his face heat up. He was still of the male species after all. It didn’t matter how out of it he was or how angry he was: he still had eyes. 

Y/N let out another laugh, and glanced back down at him. Rafe was no longer staring at her but was extremely occupied messing with his sleeves. She watched his ring-clad fingers bunch the material up his toned, tanned arms, and found herself staring this time. 

His vineyard-vines button up fit perfectly across his broad shoulders and muscular arms. It was also fitted so perfectly that you could almost see the outline of his abs through the material. Y/N felt as though the room got quite hot even with the air conditioning on. 

Ever since she met Sarah, she always thought her older brother was attractive. There was something about him that caught Y/N’s eye. The best part was that she knew the real Rafe too. The one who wasn’t on drugs and acting like an idiot. Maybe that’s what always made her so intrigued by him. 

But, alas, he still acted out which stopped her from hanging around him. Yet, that still didn’t mean he wasn’t extremely hot for a Kook.

“Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, I am trying to focus here,” Y/N mumbled before she could even think. Rafe instantly froze and locked eyes with the girl on the ladder. He noticed how one arm was holding on to the railing while the other hung by her side. Her shirt was also still noticeably bunched up, and Y/N’s eyes were also partially blown. 

“Now who’s the one staring?” Rafe smirked, a hint of his old self in his voice. Y/N snapped out of her daze, rolling her eyes. “Hush,” she said, turning back to the last string of lights. 

Y/N finally finished and hopped down, Rafe following her every movement. “Listen,” Y/N started, standing in front of him, “You were a decent person before the drugs. This isn’t the way to get your dad’s attention.”

“You don’t know shit,” he snapped, his anger flaring again as he looked up at her. 

“Oh stop yelling at me, I don’t care what you think. I just know you weren’t like this,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Rafe, you and I used to be friends.”

“Yeah, until you ran off with those damn Pogues!” Rafe shouted.

“God! Enough with the whole Kooks versus Pogues shit! What does it matter? My parents are Kooks! I’m a Kook! So what? It’s the person, Rafe, not their social status. Sarah gets it! But that’s not even the problem! You’re the problem,” Y/N snapped. 

“Do you really want to associate yourself with a bunch of lunatics who put guns to peoples’ heads when they feel like it?”

“Rafe, Topper was drowning John B! What the hell was JJ supposed to do? Let his best friend die? Tell me this! If it were the other way around, would you have pulled the gun?” Y/N groaned. 

Rafe didn’t answer this time, but just stared up at her. He really only thought about her question for a second before studying her face. Her pupils were still slightly dilated yet he could see her sincerity as well.  

“Exactly,” she huffed. “Look, I’ve known you for so long,” she said softly, “You aren’t the bad guy. Drugs mess people up, Rafe. And it sure as hell won’t get your father’s attention the way you want it.”

Rafe was shocked to hear what she was saying, but he pulled his gaze away from her hard one. “I--I really don’t know what else to do though,” Rafe finally spoke, refusing to look at her. Y/N closed her eyes for a second taking a breath. “You can start by being present for your sister’s birthday party tonight. And not shitfaced and present, or on crack and present. Sober,” Y/N suggested, firmly. 

“Wow, you two on speaking terms again?” Sarah’s voice cut in as she strutted in the room. Y/N turned her attention to her friend and rolled her eyes, her normal relaxed look slipping back on her face. “If you count arguing,” she laughed as she took the lights from Sarah. 

“Oh of course,” Sarah shot back with a wink. Rafe watched Y/N as she and his sister laughed and joked with each other. To say he missed the easy-going conversations with Y/N was an understatement. He always found it was so simple to talk to her. She would never judge and would always somehow say the right thing. 

But, unfortunately, as he began working with his father more, Rafe found himself trying to impress Ward in any way he could to make his father proud. In the midst of all of that, Rafe managed to push her away and go down an even darker path. 

“Well, I will see you tonight, birthday girl,” Y/N said snapping Rafe out of his thoughts. “Thank you for helping me set up,” Sarah smiled. “Oh and tell your mother she does not need to bring me any gifts tonight!”

“No promises,” Y/N said, giving her friend a hug. “You know how she is at parties.” 

“I know,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “The whole island is going to be here tonight I swear. Leave it to Rose to throw a huge party. It’s like Midsummers came early.”

“It’s your seventeenth birthday. It’s a big deal. Just enjoy the attention,” Y/N giggled as she headed for the exit. “Bye Rafe!” she called down the hall. Rafe put a lazy hand up as he heard the door slam shut. He was still lost in thought over everything Y/N had just told him. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting those parts dad wants?” Sarah asked her brother with her hand on her hip. “Mind your damn business Sarah,” Rafe snapped. 

Sarah glared at her brother before rolling her eyes. “Whatever,” she responded, turning on her heel, leaving Rafe all alone. 

At 6:30, Y/N stood in front of her mirror with a horrified expression. “Why do I have to wear this mom?” she groaned. Her mother had decided it would be a good idea to wear a light pink dress with a neckline for a prude. “This is a party, not a church service!” Y/N complained.

“The dress is gorgeous sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/M/N replied. Y/N studied herself in the mirror for a moment. 

“I’m not wearing this,” Y/N concluded. 

“Yes, you are, Y/N,” her mom said strictly. “You’ve been running around with those street rats for too long. A bunch of your father’s business partners and their families will be attending Sarah’s party tonight. You need to look your best.” 

“But mom,” Y/N whined, “It’s still a seventeen year old’s birthday party. Not some business thing!” 

“Y/N, you are going to wear that and that’s final. You can wear whatever you want when Sarah throws her own party for a bunch of idiotic teenagers,” her mother said before walking out of her room. 

At least this stupid thing goes above my knees, Y/N thought to herself before following after her mother. 

“You ready?” Y/N’s dad asked as the two girls walked into the kitchen. Y/N’s father turned to his daughter and stifled a laugh. “Wow, sweetheart.” Y/N groaned and buried her face in her hands. “MOM!” she groaned. “No, let’s go.” 

When they arrived at Tanneyhill, Y/N slunk through the crowd hoping no one would notice her. She had a feeling her mother might pull something like this so she stashed other clothes in Sarah’s room. 

Y/N caught a glimpse of JJ’s blond hair and ducked behind a person. She wouldn’t hear the end of it if he saw her in a dress like this. The man she was hiding behind turned around giving her a questioning look. “Oh hi Mr. Daniels,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, straightening herself out and ducking behind another person. Fortunately for her, she made it out of the crowded room and to the steps leading upstairs. 

Just as she began her ascent a voice rang out from behind her, “Oh my god. What the hell are you wearing?” JJ cackled. Y/N closed her eyes and turned around slowly. “Har har guys,” she glared at all of her friends crowded around the steps. Both Sarah and Kie had nice casual dresses on while the boys wore what they would typically wear. Except JJ was in an actual t-shirt rather than one his tank tops. 

“Oh shut up I know I look like Peppa Pig. Blame it on my mother,” Y/N said sourly. “I’m going to change.”

“Hahahahahaha!” they all cackled. Sarah finally calmed down, pretending to wipe her eyes from her tears of laughter. “Let her go change,” she said, “c’mon.” Y/N shot her a grateful smile before they shuffled away. 

Just as Y/N was about to get into Sarah’s room, however, she heard a door close down the hall, and looked up to see Rafe approaching her with a shit-eating grin. He was still wearing what he had on that afternoon. 

“Just shut up, don’t say anything,” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. Rafe burst out laughing and Y/N’s face flushed. He was the last person she wanted to see while she was still wearing this damn dress. If she wasn’t so irritated right now, she would have even been happy to hear Rafe laughing so care-free. 

“Why are you wearing that? Holy shit!” he continued to laugh. “You look like Little Bo Peep just with your knees showing!” 

“Go awayyyyyy,” Y/N whined, banging her head on the door. Rafe put his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine,” he grinned walking past her. “But if I’m going to this party, you have to show back up too,” he called before disappearing down the steps.

Y/N stood there in mild shock. Rafe wasn’t angry or wasted. He was just Rafe. 

Shaking herself out of her little daze, Y/N hurried into Sarah’s room and found her ripped jeans and black tank top. “Thank the lord,” she muttered to herself before stripping. 

Downstairs, Rafe gulped nervously trying to shake that urge for cocaine. It was his safety net that took his mind off the disappointment in his father’s eyes. He had almost done it though. Almost. Right before he came downstairs actually. But something told him not to. Well, someone really. Y/N’s words echoed in his mind from earlier. He noticed when she mentioned the word ‘drug’ she almost had that same look of disappointment in her eyes. And god, she was the last person he wanted to disappoint, for some reason. 

So, he didn’t do it. 

But, he still made a beeline for the adult drink table. Y/N would still drink if she could. Not shitfaced, but still, he thought to himself. Luckily, Rafe had managed to get through, sober, the whole awkward “you’re here” conversation with his dad too, so his drink was well-deserved. 

Rafe stood there allowing his eyes to wander all over the room. He saw Topper was trying to talk to Sarah again about her dating choices. “Idiot,” he muttered into his glass. 

Kelce was flirting with one of Sarah’s friends, a lot of the men, including his father, were huddled in the corner talking about some business thing while the women were gossiping about something, the Pogues were looking wildly out of place and little uncomfortable, keeping to themselves since Sarah was busy talking with Topper, and the rest of the people were breaking off into little groups talking amongst themselves.

This is stupid why am I even here, Rafe thought before his gaze caught Y/N’s figure. She had obviously changed into something more her style. 

Rafe’s eyes followed her beautiful hair that fell over her shoulders and down her back, across the skin revealed by deep cut in the back of her top. He let his eyes linger on her butt for a moment longer, before trailing them down her toned, jean-clad legs and to the floor. 

She was far hotter than he remembered. When did she grow up? 

Sighing, Rafe brought his eyes back up to her face and frowned when he saw a scowl on hers. He liked her much better when she was laughing like this afternoon. She appeared arguing with her mom who was gesturing up and down to her outfit. 

“That neckline is cut way too low, Y/N!” her mother hissed. “So what?” Y/N flung her hands in the air, annoyed. 

“That’s too inappropriate!” 

“I don’t care! It’s a birthday party! Plus! I can actually breathe right now! That neckline was too high!” 

“It was perfect!” 

“No!”

“Y/N!”

“I’m not having this conversation at my friend’s birthday party,” Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes and pushing her way past her mom. She slipped through the crowd and disappeared out the back into the night.

Rafe watched as her mother went right back to her group of ladies and began complaining about her daughter. Ah, yes, he was very familiar with that one. His father had pulled that on him so many times. 

He sighed before pushing off his spot on the wall and grabbing one of the extra bottles of wine from under the table and followed Y/N through the door she just went out. 

Y/N sat at the end of the dock furiously picking some of the wood that was splintering. “I just wanted to enjoy my friend’s birthday party but NO! Always have to be the perfect little daughter you want me to be,” she mumbled to herself. “Just so I don’t mess up the stupid little reputation on this damn island.” Y/N groaned, allowing her anger to get the best of her.

“Well guess what?” she finally shouted, “I’m going to get off this damn island one day so I don’t have to put up with this bullshit anymore! How about that?” Y/N felt better yelling into the darkness. 

“If you leave then can I come too?” a familiar voice said in the darkness. Y/N whirled around in bewilderment and found Rafe standing a little ways off with a hand in a pocket and the other gripping a bottle of alcohol. Y/N’s face softened as he sat down beside her, handing her the bottle of wine. 

“You looked like you needed this,” he said. 

“Thanks,” she responded before putting the bottle to her lips. She sighed as the wine seemed to warm her body up and already started washing her irritation away. Y/N also became hyper-aware of how close Rafe was sitting next to her. Their arms were slightly pressed against one another. 

“It’s ironic you know,” Rafe started, “You lecture me about getting my father’s attention, but here you are pouting about your mother.” He let out a laugh. “Yes, yes it’s all very funny. She just expects me to be this perfect little Kook daughter and wear pretty colors and go shopping or some shit,” Y/N ranted. 

Rafe listened patiently until she finally let out a huff. 

“Well, you know, in your mother’s defense, you still looked good in that dress,” Rafe spoke after a moment still looking out at the star-covered marsh. Y/N snorted, passing him the bottle. “Oh please. I looked like Peppa Pig.”

“Yes, you did,” Rafe laughed a bit. “But still a pretty Peppa.”

Y/N felt her face go warm again at his compliment. They hadn’t spoken like this in years. Y/N remembered how kind Rafe could really be. She was devastated when he did a 180 and lashed out at everyone he cared about. Yet, could she really blame him? She saw how hard he worked to impress Ward, but his father still dubbed him incompetent. And yes, Rafe did some stupid stuff, but don’t all teenage boys?

“Thanks,” she smiled as he handed her back the bottle. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the small lapping of water and passing the bottle back and forth. 

“I’m surprised you aren’t scolding me for drinking,” Rafe sighed after a bit. “I never said you couldn’t drink when you got to the party. Just not before,” Y/N specified. “Oh right,” Rafe said. 

“I’m glad you came,” Y/N said quietly, turning to look at him. Rafe felt her gaze on him and turned to face her too. “Why?” he asked. Y/N shrugged a bit and looked down at her hands. “I don’t know really. I guess it was just nice talking to you today,” she said.

“We argued more than talked, you know,” Rafe grinned as she looked back up at him rolling her eyes playfully. “Well of course,” she smirked. “Who would we be if we didn’t argue all the time. Remember when we argued that whole ride up to the mainland with your dad and Sarah?”

“How can I not?” Rafe laughed. “You were so mad you turned bright red.”

Y/N burst out in a fit of giggles, and Rafe couldn’t help but find himself smiling harder at the gorgeous sound. 

Eventually, their laughs died down and they both stared out into the night sky. “This is what I was talking about earlier, you know,” Y/N said, breaking the silence again. “What?” Rafe was puzzled. 

“When I said that you weren’t the bad guy,” she mumbled. 

“You’re the opposite actually,” Y/N said more firmly, looking back up at him. He watched her, thoughtfully, as she continued, “I mean look how much fun we’re having. Yes, we’re drinking, but we aren’t completely wasted, and you aren’t high right now. You’re you again.”

“I can’t shake it though,” he replied quietly. “I know it’s hard, but there are ways to fix it,” Y/N said. 

Rafe didn’t say anything as he looked into her dark eyes. Through the darkness, he saw a flash of pain dance through her eyes. He hadn’t realized their faces had gotten extremely closer. “Rafe,” she practically whispered. He felt her breath fan over his lips. “You don’t have to do drugs to get Ward’s attention. You’re better than that.” 

Y/N finished speaking as their noses brushed up against one another. She heard her friends’ voices in her head, the voice that told her Rafe couldn’t just up and quit, but she didn’t care. His arm behind her locked her in and his skin burned on her back. She knew she shouldn’t, but she did anyway. 

With a slight tilt of her head, her lips met his in the night. Y/N’s body turned more towards him as he returned the kiss immediately. It was a slow burn that started in her chest and spread throughout her body as his soft lips melted with hers. 

Y/N felt Rafe gently tug at her bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from her. He instantly gripped her hips and pulled her on top of him allowing his tongue to explore her mouth. 

Inside, Sarah was wandering around looking for her friend. “Have you seen Y/N?” Sarah asked John B after looking around for her for the past ten minutes. “Nope,” John B shrugged and went back to trying to throw shrimp in JJ’s mouth. “Boys,” she rolled her eyes and went to the back door. 

Sarah stepped outside and squinted down the dock. It was fairly dark, but the moon granted her some light. A weird looking silhouette broke the moonlight a bit and Sarah called, “Y/N?” The dark blob split into two figures and Sarah heard a faint, “shit!” 

“Well that’s new,” she laughed when she realized the voice belonged to her brother. “Ok never mind!” Sarah called before ducking back inside. 

“Shit,” Y/N cursed, slipping the straps of her tank top and bra back up. 

“Oops,” Rafe laughed from beside her. 

“We should probably go back inside,” Y/N giggled a bit before standing up. “Or we could, y’know,” Rafe smirked, sitting up on his knees and pushing up her shirt a bit planting wet kisses on her stomach. Y/N resisted the urge to moan and tugged him up. 

“I can’t ditch your sister’s party as much as I really...really, want too…” she half moaned looking up at Rafe as he bit his lip and raked his eyes shamelessly all over her body. 

His mouth quirked up and then he burst out laughing, “Wow. How the tables have turned.” “Shut up,” she said, shoving him out of the way playfully. 

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” he shot back at her with a grin. Rafe caught up and slung an arm around Y/N as they started walking back towards the house. “Rafe,” Y/N said with a serious tone, stopping before they started up the lawn. He looked down at her nervously, afraid this moment would be ruined and it somehow would be his fault. 

Y/N took a deep breath and faced him. “I can only do this if you can promise me you’ll stop.” 

He knew what she meant. He felt the itch rise again, but easily pushed it away as he looked into her nervous eyes. He didn’t know what to do. Rafe knew he wanted her. God he wanted her so bad, but he didn’t know if it would be enough. “I-I don’t know,” he finally said. 

Y/N’s face fell slightly, but he quickly caught himself, “I don’t know if it’ll be that easy. Believe me, for you, I want to so bad. But the reality of it…” his words died in his mouth. This was the most sober Y/N had seen him yet. 

“Of course. I know how hard it would be and I’m not blaming you for that,” she said with a small smile returning to her face. “Please help me,” Rafe finally broke, bending down and wrapping his arms around her. 

Y/N stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tall frame as the wave of emotion passed over him. “Shhhh. I promise you I will,” Y/N whispered in his ear. “I want to make this right,” he said softly. 

“You will, Rafe. You will.”

__________________________________________________

Wow so proud of myself that I actually finished this tonight. Hope everyone liked it! 

[gallickingun]

stardust in our bones {constellations on our skin} || i.m.

SUMMARY: Izuku Midoriya is a mausoleum of pain, his masterpieces hung in the form of scars and freckled skin. Sometimes he is overwhelmed by the very public display of his failures, unable to be dismissed even from far away. But you are always there to remind him that even if he is a little damaged, he will always be beautiful in your eyes. And maybe he can come to learn that his scars are but reminders that even if you break, you are not broken. 

This is essentially a few different scenes/scenarios all rolled into one fic about Izuku’s freckles and scars. I hope you love it!

PAIRING: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: mentions of blood, language, smut, dom/sub scenes, scars, mild violence mention, breeding kink, daddy kink, etc. WORD COUNT: 28.4k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* TAG LIST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ is in the replies of this post! message me to be added/removed!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the labor of love that i have produced for my other half @freckledoriya ♡ i hope that this meets your expectations, as it is probably one of the only midoriya fics i will ever write lol. katsuki baby i am so sorry also big shoutout to @k-atsukidayo for making this beautiful header image for me and always reminding me that i’m not as garbage as i think i am ♡

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

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Some call him disfigured or discolored.

They focus much too heavily on the outer turmoil taking its toll on his skin instead of the implications of what is happening within his body – the struggle in seeing himself this way and coming to terms with all that he has lost, marked on his body forever in the form of scars.

Marred flesh, crooked knuckles, gnarled bones.

He relives his trauma every time he looks in a mirror, another cut turned to pinkened scar, another use of his quirk marking his body permanently with a plethora of the color red. He wonders for a moment if he will ever feel whole again, or if he will always see himself as this patchwork thing that the universe toys with by ripping apart just to sew it back together again.

Izuku Midoriya is a mausoleum of pain.

And yet, despite all his physical fallacies, you still find him beautiful.

You watched on in horror as his body took on the tolls of being a hero throughout his time at Yuuei. You were but a young, quirkless teenager, begging for a hero who reminded you of what hope used to taste like. Now, after All Might’s demise, your tongue turns sour and anything that might have resembled hope burns to ash in your mouth.

Then Izuku Midoriya became a Pro Hero at the very agency you’ve been working at and you felt that familiar warmth of hope starting to take root in your chest, driving out that darkness that settled once the world lost All Might.

Deku is kind, much kinder than the average man. Or hero, for that matter.

He stops by your desk at least once a week, with either coffee or something sweet, in addition to his paperwork. He’ll chat with you, leaning over your counter with those sparkling emerald eyes, and you start to realize you can get lost in him. He is a gentle reprieve from your otherwise mundane day.

And in the beginning, you saw sun-kissed skin littered with a dark sprinkling of freckles, like little constellations burned into him by the sun. His cheeks are like the expanse of the night sky and you wonder to yourself when he leans in close if you might could find some stars you recognize.

As you grow closer, minutes turned into hours turned into lunch outings, you realize that you truly misjudged how deep his scars run.

They are not just on the surface, but rather cutting deep into his soul until he is marked at the very essence, clouded eyes ever present when he recounts a tale that brought forth yet another scar. You want to reach out and brush his cheeks, but you must restrain yourself because he is a Pro Hero and you are but an office manager, quirkless and insignificant to him.

You busy yourself with memorizing the patterns on his face and neck. You allow your mind to wander from time to time, trailing your gaze down to his exposed collarbones or torso, depending on how rough a mission might leave his suit. When it’s torn at the thighs, you can’t help but to see the smattering of pale freckles against his otherwise tanned skin.

Izuku is kind, you remind yourself as he approaches you with paperwork tucked into his side. There is no other explanation for his long, drawn out talks at your desk, or the flowers currently adorning your countertop.

“Hey, sorry,” he unfurls the bundled package of papers and lays them flat on your desk, “this week has been insane, lots’a villains on the loose. Which I guess just means more paperwork for everyone, huh?”

You chuckle at him, thumbing through the first few sheets to make sure he’s got it all in order. There really is no doubt in your mind that it’s all laid out exactly how it should, that’s just how Deku is, but you want him stationary at your desk for a little while longer, so you check it anyway.

“And more bruises for you heroes,” you smile, tilting your head upward so you can catch the glint in his eyes. “How are you today?”

Midoriya begins to rattle off a long string of muttered words while you check the paperwork. You don’t mind that you can’t necessarily understand everything he’s saying, just to hear the sound of his voice is enough to satiate you for the rest of the day. You smile and nod when you think you should, the smell of the flowers on your desk more intoxicating now that he’s here.

“-I, well, you see, I guess that since I saved their shop, they said I could have unlimited meals, and I, uh, I was wondering if you’d like to go?”

You bite your lip, reigning yourself in because of course he just wants to go out for lunch. There’s nothing more to it. You have been to lunch with him several times, extended breaks thanks to both his hero status and your extra hours you work here and there.

“Sure,” you answer, “we can go over the new manual, I have a few-”

“No.”

You cock your head, brow furrowing, “B-But -I”

Deku shakes his head, green curls bobbing against his forehead, his undercut even more obvious now, “N-No, I mean, I want to go, but like, I want you to go with me.”

“I would be-”

“Without the paperwork.”

“Oh.”

The two of you share a look for longer than necessary and now the flowers’ perfume grows stronger, almost sickeningly sweet as your stomach flips. You rack your brain for the words to say, but each syllable dies on your tongue, sparking against a taste bud. You want to pinch yourself to ground your mind into this version of reality where Deku wants to go on a date with you is the current situation, but you can’t move, frozen in place by his expectant stare.

It must take you too long to respond because Izuku launches into another muttering rant, apologizing profusely as he blushes from head to toe. Your lips tug into a smile at the sight of his freckles against his reddened skin, and that little break from your psychotic prison allows you to reach forward and grasp him by the hand.

Deku’s jaw snaps shut, eyes widened as he looks down at you, gaze piercing through you as if he had slung a spear through your soul. He’s got a hold on you, he has since the day you first met, but now you know that he’s had you hook, line, and sinker and there was no way you could ever come up for air.

Not that you’d want to.

“I’d love to,” you tell him, voice soft.

His smile matches your own and he squeezes your fingers, the scars on his hands rigid against his otherwise smooth skin, “It’s a date.”

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As time passed, the bruised ribs and shattered bones multiple. The Pro Hero, Deku, is well-known for his gnarled hand, knuckles swollen, and scars carved into his body like veins in a slab of marble. He finds you after each mission, wrapped in gauze and taped back together, and you are the one left to mend the untouchable pieces of him once the surgeons have done all that they can for the surface wounds.

“You should be more careful,” you warn him, hands reaching for his face to palm over his cheeks in worry.

Midoriya laughs, but it is cut short by a wince as he grabs for his rib cage. You lurch forward to steady his frame, but it is of no use, his palm already outstretched to keep you at bay. The frown on your face only deepens at his motions, your brow furrowing together to wrinkle the skin of your forehead.

“I’m fine,” he reassures you once he can stand up right to his full height again, “thank you, for coming and picking me up.”

The pads of your hands find his face again, thumbs pressed into his cheeks, fingerprints grazing over the speckled skin. It’s as if you’re counting them to make sure that none of them have been wiped away from the last time you saw him; like you could keep track of them like inventory if you tried hard enough. The furrow in your brow tells him that he hasn’t done a good enough job at reassuring you, so he steps closer, a knee between your thighs, “I promise I’m okay. They patched me up! All better now.”

All better now.

The words seem shallow, like they can’t possibly touch all of the broken pieces between the two of you. Every time he bares his soul on the battlefield, he comes away changed, a different person than you last saw. He won’t show the world, but at least he will show you.

“Yeah?” Your voice is cutting, patience wearing thin, jaw quivering under the sheer force of the bite of your teeth, “And what about the next time, when they can’t fix you?”

Deku does not have an answer for you then, the question weighing between the two of you like the world caught between your shoulders. At least the answer he can think up is not one that he wants you to hear, let alone one you might take in stride.

Instead of trying to babble on about the efficiencies of agency surgeons and statistics and whatnot, he takes you by the wrists, circling his fingers around your pounding pulse. A gentle laugh bubbles in his chest and it makes you forget about the pain he has to be in for but a mere moment as he looks you in the eyes.

“I’m a hero,” Izuku answers, voice grating against his throat as his eyes bore into you like he’s telling you some enormous secret you must keep to yourself, “and the hero always wins. No matter what.”

As much as your bleeding, apologetic heart wants to believe him, to lap up every word that he’s spewing to you like syrup, your mind can’t quite agree. You’ve spent too many late nights lying awake, wondering when you’ll get the call that he has fallen prey to a villain’s decaying touch, or when he will have been captured and tortured to the brink of insanity, a shell of the man he used to be all that’s left when they find him. Every horror story has played out on the back of your eyelids when you fall asleep, and yet you know there will never be anything you can do to put him back in the little box you first found him in, to protect him and keep him safe.

You push all of those thoughts away, knowing that they will only dampen your spirit for now, and you’d much rather focus on his darling freckled face while you take your afternoon walk. He insists, despite his injuries, that he won’t miss an afternoon walk with you. And it appears that he’s healing even as more time passes, the lingering effects of Recovery Girl’s quirk in combination with quirk-laced drugs mending his body after he’s left the operating room.

Taking in the sight before you – this beautiful, Adonis-like man, with golden cheeks and an innocent sheen in his glittering green irises – you’re overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him, so you charge forward and do just that. Your hands find his neck, searching for the hairline lightning strike scars that litter his body from past injuries and fights.

Unbeknownst to him, you keep your eyes open so you can watch as his translucent lids flutter, orbs moving beneath the skin as he’s unsure of what part of you in his imagination to settle on. This way you’re able to see as the apples of his cheeks slowly start to burn deeper shades of red to match his ears and neck.

As you pull away, falling back onto your heels, you drink him in as the light glimmers down on his skin, making him look almost golden in the afternoon sunshine. There is a string connected to your heart that tugs whenever you see the man standing before you, and now is no exception.

“C’mon,” you slot your knuckles between his, tenderly brushing your thumb over the large expanse of scar tissue on the back of his palm, “let’s go.”

Izuku pulls you closer and it’s like another piece of him has fallen into place, your body slotting just right against his side, like you were made for each other. One to match the other, a balance to end all imbalances.

A complete set.

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The knock on your door makes you jump, shuddering beneath your fleece blanket.

You rub your eyes and stand to your feet, leaving the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It’s late, so you imagine it’s most likely just a package delivery.

You’re beyond surprised to see a bleeding Izuku Midoriya slumped forward, using his forearm to hold himself steady in your doorway. You gasp, your blanket dropping away from your shoulders to pool at your feet, launching yourself forward to catch him before he can topple to the ground.

“Izuku,” you gasp, tucking yourself beneath him so he can use you for support.

He laughs, but it turns into a wheezing string of coughs. You help him hobble through the threshold towards the kitchen, sitting him down close to the sink so you can clean him up. Tilting his head back, you look into his eyes and pray that they dilate. When his pupils shrink, you let loose a breath held captive in your lungs.

It’s hard not to think about the reality that this will add another scar to his tally. His whole body seems like a counter, really, with strikes and slashes marring his skin, turning it pink and keeping track of every battle.

Midoriya reaches up to cradle your face in his palm, fingertips brushing over the smooth skin of your cheeks, directly contrasted with his own rough complexion, “I needed to see you.”

“No,” you shake your head and squat down in front of him, tears stinging the backs of your eyes as you try to take in every part of him that’s bleeding, “you need to see a doctor!”

Before you can protest him any further, Izuku leans forward to crush your mouth beneath his own. He whimpers in pain as he kisses you, but it doesn’t stop him. In fact, it almost stirs him forward, spurring him to cup your face with his hands as tears track down to cut through the crimson lines on his cheeks.

Izuku Midoriya is nothing short of an enigma. Here he is, bruised and bleeding, but he wrought his way to find you despite all of the pain. You wish you could burden some of it on his behalf, taking up the mantle of his own personal Atlas, meant to shoulder the weight of his existence so he can catch a quick breath.

His forehead touches yours as he pulls away, a sobbing gasp parting his mouth, “I’ll be fine. I just need you.”

You brush his hair away from his eyes, forcing him to look at you with the tender turn of your wrist. His right eye is bruised and swelling itself shut, blood caked from his brow to his jaw, pouring steadily from the wound he’s got split open on his head.

The only thought running through your mind, creating a path of worn ground against your cerebrum, is that this will be but another one to add to the collection; another piece of art to hang in his mausoleum. Judging by the amount of blood caked in his hair and brow, and the depth of the wound, it will surely leave a tattered scar of flesh behind.

An errant thought crosses your mind then – will he have such painful memories of this specific wound? Or will he recall this one to be the scar that brought him back to you?

You can’t help it when your lower lip trembles. You can never be surprised at the story of this scar’s origin – it will be engrained in your mind forever. Despite your adoration for the hero, you share in his pain, your own body wincing as a new trickle of crimson stains his temple. You tense your jaw, the muscles in your neck quivering under the strain of your ministrations. Even if he remembers this night fondly, you know that every time you glance at the healed section of his body, you’ll remember his tears, his debilitating pain.

“I’m calling Toshinori,” you grit your teeth, steeling your will, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“I let him know I was coming.” Izuku inhales in short bursts; it’s all his chest can handle before splintering pain streaks through his lungs like lightning. He winces as he shifts, one hand drifting to your hip. He dips his thumb beneath the fabric of your top, a shirt he recognizes as his own based on the size of it as it fully engulfs your figure. His logo is on the center, bright green text in stark contrast to the dark grey fabric.

A wave of pride swells within him, starting at the base of his back and building upward like effervescent champagne bubbles floating to the surface. He opens his mouth to set them free in the form of smothering kisses, his lips traveling to every available expanse of your skin he can find.

Deku is a force of nature, a whirlwind you cannot reckon with, so instead you succumb to him.

You allow him to swallow you whole for the first time, diving deeper into the eye of his storm until he is swirling around you and suffocating you. But you do not care. If this is how you have to go, with his tongue holding you hostage, hands like anchors on your hips, dragging you deeper until all you know is the darkness, then you are fine with that.

You’d gladly drown as long as he was the one holding you down.

But Izuku Midoriya is not the dark. He is anything but.

So, instead of burning your breath with his own oxygen, he fills you to the brim with light. He is a sunbeam incarnate, pushing through every crack in your bones to cement them with his kindness. His fingers, while biting into your hips, send a singing sensation up into your skin until you can’t help but smile into his kiss. They are rough with tattered flesh, scars of the past and present plaguing his body like a parasite, eating away at his skin until no longer has anything left to give.

Deku doesn’t wince when you sink down on top of him, settling your body against his thighs. Instead he wraps his arms around you to give you some kind of solace, palms searching your shoulders for the perfect place to rest. His fingers are warm beneath your shirt as his fingers seek out the curve of your spine.

The pure thickness of his body is not lost on you, not now. ­Your hands travel over his shoulders, his muscles rippling beneath the pads of your fingers. You shiver when he holds you closer, your chest flush with his, the tactile pleasure from his rough skin making your toes curl.

His shoulders are riddled with tiny, slicing scars, a light pink color in contrast to his standard tanned skin. You look for scar after scar, appreciating the damaged parts of him just as much as the smooth ones. You moan when both of his hands squeeze your waist, the pure size of him a gentle reminder as his palms engulf your ribs, his knuckles counting the bones as he runs his hands up and down.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmurs as he disconnects his mouth from yours, tears settled in his irises, making them glassy, “the villain I-I fought, th-they had a canceling quirk, and they almost got me.”

You know that got me is the safer, calmer equivalent of killed me. His kindness oozes like honey into every facet of him, filling the cracks like veins of marble. Your heart squeezes within your chest at the reality that he could have been lost to you, and suddenly the wounds on his body matter a little less.

No, now it is all about having him here, dense and hot beneath your body. Your fingertips tremble at the thought of him being a ghost of the past, something you once had a hold of, but now is nothing but a memory. You feel hot tears drip over your lashes, clumping up at the base of your eyelids as they flow freely. You sniffle, your hands finding the back of his head to cradle tenderly.

Izuku’s voice is soft, his cheeks gleaming red as he admits his next words, “You were all I could think about.”

Your voice breaks with a sob and you hold him tight around the neck, surging forward to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Izuku wraps his arms around your whole body, holding you snugly as he tilts his head for a better angle. You relish in the warmth he provides, his solid presence giving you comfort as you try to drink him in, pushing aside all the thoughts of potentially never having him like this again.

It’s not even about the way your stomach turns as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, or how hot your body grows as he engulfs you like a flame. No, it is something beautiful and pristine, something that curls around your spine and bolsters it, holding you upright with confidence. Izuku has given you something you haven’t had in so long that you almost can’t put a name to it.

Peace.

There is an undeniable calm that washes over you whenever he is around, whether it be by distance or severe closeness. He suffocates you in his light no matter how far away he is; purely by knowing that he is alive, your heart quiets in your chest. You feel safer as you walk down the streets, the very notion that he will always be there, watching from wherever he may be, builds your bones stronger so you can walk with confidence.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you gasp, coming up for air. You don’t go far, your nose nudging over his cheek as you pant quickly, your chest heaving. “I-I can’t do this without you.”

“Hey,” Deku’s voice is calm, his palms reaching up the back of your shoulders to cover you entirely in his heat. All you want is to coat yourself in him from top to bottom, let him claim you however he needs to, so you never have to let this go. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You open your eyes as he nudges his nose over the bow of your lips, kissing your chin tenderly. Your pupils dilate as you take in the smattering of dark freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheeks, painting his skin erratically so that you know he must be a work of art, a gift from the gods down to mankind. He is too perfect to be anything else.

Your forehead drops as you let out a shaky breath, steadying yourself with your grip on his shoulders. “I-I know, I just…”

Izuku repositions his hands so they’re beneath your top, the warm pads of his fingertips leaving a blazing trail of fire behind as he maps out the curves of your body. You watch as his ripped costume falls in tattered shreds on his shoulders, giving way to the pretty expanse of skin usually hidden beneath it.

The sight of his flayed skin, coated in scars and painted with beauty marks, makes your spine rattle within your frame. Your fingers drift to the bared parts of his body on instinct, a primal need settling in the pit of your stomach, and you trace over the white, lightning-like scars. Your thumb brushes over his collarbone, as if you could sweep away his freckles to leave behind unmarked skin.

Your mind wanders, thoughts branching out to wonder if there even is a patch of his skin that is pure, unmarred by any form of markings.

Izuku must follow your train of thought, because he peels his hands away from your body to tug his costume at the waist, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the floor before he pulls his shirt over his head, or what remains of it. The tattered fabric is in a bloody, dirty heap on the floor, but you barely have the wherewithal to notice when he is bared in front of you.

A gasp parts your mouth when you take in his nude torso. He is a plethora of contours and shadows, sinew holding his muscles together in a taut fashion. Your hands are hovering in front of his chest, darkened nipples piqued under the cool air blowing from the vent above. You have to force yourself to swallow, pent-up tension making your throat bob.

“See?” Izuku’s voice is hoarse, as if he’s holding himself back from tears, “I’m right here.”

Your eyes try to find a part of him that isn’t doused in speckles, the darkened patches of skin making him look even tanner. He has them sprinkled all over his body, clumps of them gathering together like tiny nebulas. Your gaze slowly drags down from his collarbones to his abdomen, the freckled dots like destinations on a treasure map, leading you to one central location.

When you make eye contact with the trail of dark hair that starts at his navel, thin and then growing thicker, you feel your stomach turn over. You lick your drying lips, a heat beginning to build up in your core. You would clench your thighs together, but the way you’re straddling him currently makes that impossible. Instead, you roll your hips forward so you can scoot further up his lap.

It’s like you don’t believe what you see in front of you – that he’s truly here, open and bare in front of you, vulnerable in every sense of the word. The wound on his head has stopped bleeding, but that doesn’t mean that he’s okay.

“Touch me.”

You tilt your head, confused by his forward command. Your cheeks burn bright with a blush and he chuckles at the sight of you so flustered. Midoriya takes you by the hands, guiding your touch to his chest first.

The tips of your fingers blaze when they find a ragged scar that stretches across the entirety of his pectoral, “I have so many of these ugly things.”

“How many?” you find yourself asking, the filter hard to find when he has you about ready to come undone like this. You feel yourself go lightheaded, hazy at the feel of his rough skin, his heart beating irregularly beneath your touch.

His voice is heavy when he answers, “I lost count.”

Your eyes snap upward to find the usual playful green color of his irises has faded to a pale jade shade, “Izu, hey-”

Deku swallows an emotional lump in his throat, eyelids fluttering at the pain of it before he inhales a full breath. His chest brushes up against yours and you have to withhold the whine that desperately wants to slip from your lips.

“I don’t understand why people are so fascinated with them,” his tone is teetering on the wrong side of angry, lips curled in a downward snarl. He glances south at the rest of his body, pale scars in stark contrast to the rest of his tanned body. “They’re just reminders of my failure.”

You are forceful when you pull his jaw upward, yanking him to face you before you kiss him harshly. Your intense kiss makes him gasp, his hips rolling up into you despite the pain he’s in. Your palms are bruising on his cheeks, but you don’t care because at least he’s kissing you. Deku’s fingertips finally make their way to your hips where he seeks purchase against your ribcage. His digits are tantalizing as he roams the expanse of your midsection.

“You’re my hero,” your voice is breathless and broken when you release him for oxygen. “Don’t you ever call yourself a failure again.”

Izuku’s throat bobs as he basks in your ferocity – eyes ablaze and fingertips harsh as you hold him in place. He finds himself nodding without really knowing what you’ve said, but he supposes that’s just the effect you have on him. You have taken root in his soul, the galaxy in your eyes blacking out everything else in his mind, allowing him not even a moment to let self-doubt creep in and steal away his faith.

After all, in his eyes, you are his whole world, shattered stars and all.

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“You picked dinner, so I get to pick the movie,” you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, your palms splayed against his chest as you press kisses into his shoulder blades.

You’re obsessed with his back, like some little secret you don’t get to see very often. Tonight the two of you were doing yoga before you ate dinner, so he’s currently clad in only a pair of compression pants that reach his mid-calf, leaving his entire upper body for you to appreciate with your gaze and explorative touches.

You nose over the curve of his spine, kisses open-mouthed as he washes the dishes in the sink. You hear his breath hitch and you wonder if now is a good time to start experimenting with how far you can go. Your eyes roam to the base of his spine, the two small dimples at the start of the swell of his ass making your mouth salivate. You relinquish one hand from his chest to dip your thumb into the cavity his muscles have created, brushing against a cluster of freckles.

It has been some time since you’ve seen him with his shirt off, and many times since then, but you’ve never been able to discover what’s below his belt. Your mind wanders as you suppress the itch in the base of your fingerprints, like the very code of you is designed to strip him down to nothing. You want to know how far his freckles truly go.

In your mind, you believe that he is sprinkled with stardust, paler patches of freckles sporadically placed along his body. He is a canvas, fresh and ready for the constellations to burn into his flesh. You want to swirl your hands over the galaxies imprinted upon him by the gods themselves; as if he were made of marble, ready to carve and curate however they may please.

You take a leap of faith when you dip your fingertips beneath the tight waistband of his joggers. The aborted stutter of his hips combined with the sharp intake of breath from his throat tells you all you need to know.

From here you can see clusters of freckles on the globes of his ass, concentrated mostly near the top, where sunlight can penetrate when he’s not in his hero suit. You have to catch yourself before you drip drool onto his curved backside.

The hand on his chest roams until you find his pebbled nipple, the crevices of your palm washing over the flesh until you hear a muted moan shake his throat. You lean forward, forehead tucked between the cartilage of his shoulder blades so you can feel the heat radiating from him even closer now.

“Can I-”

“Please.”

You’ve never heard him beg before, at least not like this.

It has been some time since your first date, since the first kiss, since the first confession. Your hands start to sweat at the thought of touching his salacious side, pricking with anticipation as you slowly make your way around his hip towards the bulge in his pants. Your tongue stills within your throat as you brush your thumb against the thick tufts of dark green hair at the base of his stomach beneath his navel.

His body is like a roadmap leading you to one desolate place, his skin singing with heat as you grow closer. You can almost make out a whine that he’s clamped his teeth down on to suppress, but that does nothing to deter you from finding a dozen other ways to elicit an infinite number of those same prurient sounds from his lungs.

When the outside of your palm brushes against the throbbing thickness held tight within his spandex, you feel your whole-body tense. Izuku gulps audibly and you have to hold in something that is a mix of a gasp and a giggle.

You reach your free hand down from his chest to pull at the band of his pants, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric. You can hear the bob of it against his stomach and you let out a heated breath that spills down over his spine. He shivers and you think that maybe you have him just as captivated as he usually has you.

The thought is thrilling. It bolsters your confidence and allows you the audacity to lean forward and slowly trail your fingers along the base of his cock, tickling him in the most tentative way possible. He grits his teeth and you can feel his buttocks clench in front of you as he tries his hardest not to buck forward and ruin your moment.

You kiss the smattering of freckles near the top of his right shoulder, lavishing the area with your tongue as you trail your thumb up the base of his cock until you reach the tip. You can feel the bead of pre-come beneath the print of your finger and you collect it with the ridges of your digit before dragging it downward to coat him before you begin to pump your hand.

He is thick in your hand, unforgivingly hard as his cock pulses within your grasp. You can tell that it’s taking all of his restraint not to throw his head back and release obscene sounds from his throat, like his desire is caged within his chest, begging to be let out with each erratic heartbeat.

Your tongue licks over his shoulders and you know that he must be imagining what your mouth would feel like wrapped around his cock based on the mewling whimpers that leave his tongue. You can hear him panting, but you want to see him, desperate and whining, so you tug on his waistline with your free palm.

It takes him a moment, his eyes glistening with bliss and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, but you manage to get him turned so he’s facing you. Your eyes drag slowly down the entire expanse of his torso, catching on his pert nipples, bright and pink as they shrink beneath the stinging touch of your fingertips. You catch onto the constellations of freckles drifting along his torso – if you look hard enough, you swear that they move. Your eyes cross when you look too closely, so instead you allow your attention to drop lower.

Izuku’s mouth is wide open as your eyes fall to the vee of his hips, the paler freckles placed there making you smile. You lower yourself to your knees, semi-uncomfortable thanks to the tile of the kitchen, but you don’t care. Right now, your focus is singled in on one thing and one thing alone.

You lick your lips and the closeness of your tongue to his cock makes Izuku blush in expectancy. There is a little line of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth if you blink your eyes free of lust. You pump him another time in your hand, collecting the new wash of pre from his tip to lubricate his cock. As you do so, your eyes drift to the base of him where his green pubic hair collects in a dark tuft. You can’t decide which part of him to focus on because it’s all too much.

Somehow, he has a scar that runs from the innermost part of his thigh upward, just beneath his balls. You wince at the thought of what had to have caused that, and how much it hurt. You allow one hand to drift over the scar as your eyes come into contact with the patch of freckles hidden beneath the trail of dark, coarse hair that is usually hidden by his clothing.

As you pump your hand down to the base of him, you use your thumb to brush some of the hair away, curious as to how dark the freckles are there. Izuku is completely maddened by your touch, fallen under the enchantment of your hands. He doesn’t even mind that you’ve taken a break from dragging your soft hand around his dick, his mind already blitzed from the short burst of ministrations you have already administered.

You hum as you kiss along the taut skin of his lower abdomen, dragging your lips and tongue towards the thick trail of hair that leads you to his cock. It’s almost like the freckled areas taste different, although you’ve probably made all of that up in your mind. And yet, you don’t mind that it’s more of a fantasy instead of a reality, relishing in the sweetness, nonetheless.

“Fuck,” you hear from above you, one of his hands hung in midair, unsure of whether to grab you or the counter. The other palm grips into his hair and the scalp, tugging to keep himself grounded so he does not float away at the gentle caress of your tongue against his skin.

The bow of your lips purses as you kiss upward to the head of his cock, bright red and teeming with pre-come. The silvery, pearlescent bud of arousal makes your mouth water and you find that you can’t help yourself as you encircle your lips around the tip of him.

Izuku is immediately broken from whatever resilience he was able to gather, his hips bucking forward as he slams both hands into the counter. Little broken bits of marble fall into your hair but you don’t care, instead indulging yourself in watching his reaction to your movements. Midoriya’s pupils are blown wide, completely taken over his usually wide irises. The green bleeds black, lust like a cloud misting in his line of sight.

As his upper body tenses, you’re able to see every contour of muscle, every cord of sinew, and you can’t help it when drool dribbles down your chin onto the tile floor. You moan against the head of his cock, taking another inch of him in as you slide forward to get more comfortable. The sound of his nails creaking against the countertop makes your cunt flutter from within the cotton of your panties, clenching around nothing as you imagine the thickness of him in your mouth against your glutinous walls, squeezing him for all the come he can produce.

You trail one hand around the curling scars on his thigh, thumbprint finding the ridges of the expansive scar, the raised skin making your heart ache for a moment before you refocus on his dick. Your eyes almost cross as you try to focus on the freckles now hidden once more by the thick green hair at the bottom of his belly.

As you retreat backward, your line of sight continues down the length of his cock to realize that he has a littering of freckles of varying shapes, sizes, and colors, scattered all along the entire shaft of his dick, and even a few on the tip. You can’t help it when you smile, licking at them as if they could be removed if you lapped at the skin harshly enough.

It is the small things such as this that make your time with Izuku Midoriya so enjoyable. You are learning something about him every day, something even more interesting and exciting than the last.

Before you can slip your lips further down his length, his hand reaches up to clean the debris from your hair, a broken apology parting his lips momentarily. You look up at him, the tenderness in his touch making your heart go soft.

“H-Holy,” his hips buck forward when you blink up at him, the base of his throat bobbing as he curses, “shit.”

As you pull away from his cock, Izuku’s chest shudders as he tries to regulate his breathing. He shifts his feet on the tile beneath you trying to keep himself from pushing up onto the balls of his toes so he can keep some semblance of control as you pleasure him.

Izuku turns away from you and you whine, your tongue licking the underside of his cockhead before you ask, “Why won’t you look at me?”

He can barely force the words out of his throat as he gazes down at you briefly, the sounds coming forth berated and bedraggled, as if he’d dragged barbed wire across the syllables, “I can’t, damn it. I-I’m gonna-”

You take advantage of the line of sight he has on you, opening your mouth wide and taking him in one fell sucking motion.

Midoriya chokes on his own drool, a little silvery string of it falling in midair until it creates a droplet on the crown of your head. He can’t even find the focus to apologize, his knuckles white as he grips the countertop to keep himself sane.

The word he squeaks out next makes you smile, your teeth grazing his dick: “-come.”

You take it as a challenge, gripping his thighs with your nails, digging crescent moons into his pretty tan skin, adding the shapes to his star-like freckled skin, creating a whole galaxy with a simple bruising touch. Izuku can’t help it as his hips stutter forward, the tip of his cock bucking into the back of your mouth to make you gag.

He’s not sure how you do it, with his cock jammed all the way into the back of your throat, but somehow you have the wherewithal to cup his balls in one hand as the other uses his leg like an anchor to stay hovering on your toes. You never cease to amaze him, even now as you’re on your knees and worshipping his cock like your life might depend on it.

“Touch me,” you whimper as you come up for air, “if you won’t look at me, touch me, please.”

Izuku licks his lips and barely has it in him to pull his hand from the counter, but somehow, he manages it. His hand threads through your locks, fingertips buzzing with a mixture of adrenaline and desire. The lust has his whole being singing with anticipation as you bring him to the precipice of arousal. He knows that he won’t last much longer, especially not with you drooling around his cock and bobbing your head in perfect rhythm. And now that he can feel you beneath his fingers, he’s not sure if he’ll even be able to speak coherently when this is all over with.

His hands are exploratory in your hair, dipping in and out of your tresses like waves, finding your scalp to scratch lightly, eliciting a husky moan from your throat. The vibrations of your sounds make his cock pulse, twitching against your tongue as you suck him deeper. Izuku isn’t sure how there is anymore of your throat for him to fuck, but when you hollow out your cheeks, he slides further in, and the pleasure starts to coil around the base of his spine as he’s worked towards his high.

“Baby, I-I’m close,” Izuku manages to blurt when he’s coherent enough, your tongue sweeping down the vein on the underside of his dick. He gasps for breath, his head hanging forward, so his dark curls sweep over his lashes to hide his pretty orbs from you. He grunts, as he ruts up into you, “Real close, hell.”

You take it as a challenge, stiffening your posture so you can force your head up and down, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto your pants, but you don’t care. The way his hands grip into your scalp and the quivering of his thighs as he holds off his own release are but a war cry for you, begging your body to go further, to force that release from within his body.

“Come for me, Izu,” you whimper against his cock, the words muffled by the thick skin of him. You try your best to pout, looking innocent with eyes blown wide, “Please, I wanna taste you. So bad.”

His jaw falls slack, and you know that he’s close, his tip is practically rock hard against your teeth. You hollow out your cheeks and moan as you slowly suck him as hard as you can manage with your jaw starting to ache from the stretch of him. Your pussy clamps around nothing, begging for his girth within your walls.

A few heaving breaths stretch his chest, the muscles of his pectorals rippling in strain as he tries to hold himself back, to respectfully come undone instead of sputtering out like a teenager. You nod with his cock still in your mouth, your tongue padding over the sensitive underside. A wuthering whimper breaks within his throat and you feel his thighs clench one final time before he’s coming apart between your cheeks.

You try to breathe through your nose, his cock buried all the way in your mouth so his come hits in spurts against the back of your throat. You use your hands dug into the plush flesh of his ass to steady yourself, his body uncaring to the pain as long as he’s bucking up into your mouth. His hand in your hair goes tight before falling slack, gentle fingertips wafting through your tresses aimlessly.

You tilt your head back as he begins to soften within your lips, trying to keep his come from dribbling out the corners of your mouth. You catch most of it, the slightly sweet taste of it helping it to go down smoother. You suck him one more time, trying to pull the rest of the arousal from his slit, and a high-pitched whine breaks through the calm of the air like shattering glass.

“S-Sorry,” he moans as his eyes screw shut, one of his palms latching onto the countertop again.

A content laugh turns your lips upward and you kiss the head of his cock before he helps you rise back to your feet. Before you’re upright again, he bolsters forward to kiss you square on the lips. His tongue delves between your teeth, mapping out the curves of your gums as he tastes his spend in each crevice of your mouth.

The moan that reverberates from his chest makes your toes curl, your hands curling to fists against his chest as he presses further into you, trying to be flush with your entire body. You can barely breath as he suffocates you lovingly, bringing stars into your vision as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your hands spread out over the plane of his chest, the tips of your fingers searching for his scars, the placement of them burnt into your mind like a map.

Deku pulls away with a panting string of apologies mixed with appreciation, his irises overtaking his pupils now that he’s come down from his high. His hands search your face and then your arms, taking in every inch of you as he kisses all over your face.

You giggle, wrapping your fingers around his neck to play with the sharp hair at the nape of his neck, the undercut style making his locks dense and coarse up to his ears where the straight line runs.

“What movie do you want to watch?” you ask breathlessly, scrunching your nose as he kisses the tip of it.

Izuku is winded when he nudges his nose against yours, a laugh on the tip of his tongue, “I don’t fucking care.”

You roll your lips together, pushing yourself up on your toes to kiss his mouth chastely, “We might have to do that more often if I’m going to get whatever I want each time.”

The thought of you going down on him makes his heart stutter within the cage of his ribs, stars spread out and blinding against the backs of his lids. He can already imagine the sight of you on your knees, your lips around him as you moan and writhe while he holds your hair tight within his fist…

“Earth to Izuku?” you pat his cheek playfully. “You with us?”

His voice is stuttered as he answers you, a blissful glassiness still coating his irises, “Y-Yeah, I’m right here. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

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“C’mon, Princess, you can take it, I know you can,” he murmurs into midair, voice stern but breathy, sending a shiver down your spine.

You lick at the head of his cock, engorged and bright red, beads of pre-come bubbling out of his slit, awaiting you to catch them with your tongue. You lap over the taut, pinkened skin, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of him – a fine combination of salty and sweet. You can’t help the draw of your attention to the tanned splotches covering him like stardust, mapping out what would seem to be a different set of constellations every time you look too long.

Izuku’s hand is woven into your hair carefully, so he does not pinch your scalp, but he can still hold onto the makeshift ponytail he’s created with his fingers bunched around your tresses. You whimper, eyes torn from his freckled skin, as he guides your mouth closer to his cock, the head of him brushing against your closed lips.

His voice is thick with restraint, his throat bobbing at the sight of your pretty, jeweled irises looking between him and his cock, wondering how you’re going to take the thick of him between your plush little lips. Your eyes are almost crossed as you try to count his freckles, as if you could pay that close of attention when he’s got you on your knees.

“Gonna be a good girl for me, Angel?” Deku is patronizingly kind as he brushes his knuckles over the curve of your jaw. Your eyes zero in on the scarred stripes along his palm and forearm, your fingertips reaching up to slowly drag across the pale lines that tell a story you’ve heard a dozen times. Izuku makes an audible noise of consideration at your marveling, “You were just beggin’ me for my cock, and now you won’t even open your mouth for me?”

He sounds like he’s pouting, lower lip jutted out just enough for it to look convincing. You swallow your inhibitions, throat bobbing when he brushes his cock along the hollows of your cheeks, the head of him smearing what remains of his pre onto your skin. He chuckles as you gasp, your jaw hung open just enough for him to rut up into your mouth.

You gag around him, lurching forward as tears coat your lashes. You whimper, looking up to him like he might save you from what’s to come. But no, you asked for this. You begged him to let you taste his cock, to have him spill his fullest load onto your tongue and force you to swallow.

“Such a pretty girl,” his words turn to a moan as you take him to the base, forcing yourself to breathe evenly so you won’t gag around him again. His hand in your hair tightens and you take a deep breath, the short, stubbled pubic hairs surrounding his cock doing little to hide the freckles on his smooth skin.

You’re not sure why you love them so much – the freckles.

They are such a distraction that you don’t notice Izuku yanking you by the ponytail until you come off his cock with a loud pop. You whine, keening forward to try and lick at his tip, “I-Izu-please.”

“Uh uh,” he cinches his hand around your hair even tighter, tugging your skin backward until it burns. A smirk lilts his lips, “What’s my name, baby girl?”

Your eyes go wide, pupils swallowing your irises whole. Deku almost misses the color, if it not for the fucked out look that takes their place, telling him exactly what he’s done to you. He bites down on his lower lip, half-hooded lids considering you, “You’re already a mess for me, aren’t you baby? I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Your cock,” you whine, squinting your eyes so you don’t have to feel his authoritative penetrating your very being. Your thighs tense, pussy clamping down around nothing but thin air, wet with arousal and begging to be full of him. Before Izuku can tell you to correct yourself with a simple syllable, you repeat yourself, “Your cock, Daddy.”

A satisfied expression smooths his features, the red of his cheeks doing little to hide the smattering of freckles to match those littered across his cock and thighs. You brush your nose against his navel, kissing the gentle swell of muscle beneath it. Izuku licks his lips, hips rolling forward so his cock brushes over the length of your throat.

“That’s’a good girl.” Deku purses his lips as you kiss down his shaft, your tongue lapping over every inch of him. Your eyes are level with his pubic bone, searching for the tanned droplets of sunshine incarnate on his skin, hidden beneath dark tufts of jade hair curled around the base of his cock.

Before you take him between your lips, you lick a stripe from the underside of his shaft up to his navel. You can’t help yourself as the dark smattering of freckles call out to you, a reminder that even though he is tainted by the war of the world, you still have these small victories to come back to. You worship his taut skin with your lips and tongue, the muscle parting your mouth to lick at his body.

Izuku’s fingers weave into the hair at the base of your head, eyes watching you closely as you pay special attention to the various patches of densely packed freckles. You nose over his hipbone, breathing slowly, the wash of warmth prickling his skin and forcing him up on his toes as he reacts to it.

There is a large part of him that wants you to stop. Not because he’s selfish enough to force you to pay attention to the throbbing heat between his legs, but rather because your praise is something that makes him feel even more unworthy. He is self-conscious of his body, both the discolored spots that he’s never able to be rid of in tandem with the ragged rips in his flesh that you seem to love so much. He has never understood your fascination with his body, but you are relentless with your affections.

It comes in many forms. At times it is the way you run your fingertips over his shoulders when you’re laying together, and other times it is your mouth finding his knuckles when you think he’s asleep. You are unashamed to lavish his body with unending passion, and even the smallest of deformities that he believes are his secret, you manage to find.

You loll your tongue out to let the collected spit pool over his length, sucking at the head when you get to it. Deku rubs his thumb against your neck, fingertips searching your hair for purchase. He’s taken aback when you hollow out your cheeks, sucking him deep into the heat of your mouth. His eyes go wide, but he’s thankful you can’t see with the way his head is thrown back.

“Fuck, baby,” his hand twitches against your scalp, “fuck, this mouth.”

He starts rolling his hips forward, pumping himself in and out of your mouth like he might your pussy. You feel drool seeping out of the corners of your lips but you don’t dare break away, because that would bring forth a punishment, and your cunt is already sopping wet with the anticipation of his cock buried deep within you. Deku grunts, his chest vibrating with the sound, and he holds you still with the hand against your head.

You reach up to find his free palm, lacing your fingers together at the knuckle, using him as some sort of an anchor to reality as the subservient headspace begins to take over. It washes through you like a balm, a warm sensation that feels like home.  Your eyelids fall over your irises, hiding your expression from him, but he can tell the way you feel by your ministrations against his hand and on his cock. You are desperate for him, one hand clutching his thigh until your nails dig in and leave tiny crescent moon prints behind.

You like to think of his freckles as stars, your marks making him more like the night sky with each grip. You moan as you hold yourself at the base of him, tongue lapping around his length from within your mouth. Your thumb finds a familiar scar on the back of his hand, knuckles marred from battle and bravery.

It’s times like these that you want to cry for him, for what his body has endured. It’s the reason you want to worship every inch of him, to give him what he deserves because god knows the world will never give him back what he’s due. So here you sit, perched in front of him like a little dove, eyes blown to hell and your metaphorical wings spread wide as you take him for all he’s worth.

Izuku can’t take it any longer – the tenderness of your touch mixed with the obedient look in your eyes. It’s all too much, making his head spin at your sincerity.

“C’mere,” he whispers, tugging you by the throat, gently but firmly.

And you follow him, like you would follow him anywhere.

You step forward dumbly, blindly going wherever he tells you. He guides you to the bed, turning you over so your face is pressed into the coolness of the sheets, your bright red cheeks thankful for the change in temperature. You angle your ass upward perfect, round globes ripe for his hands to lay into.

“Such a sloppy little pussy, baby,” he murmurs against the skin of your lower back as he kisses down your spine. His middle finger runs up and down the length of your slit, collecting the silvery strands against his digit, “All this just for me?”

“All for you, Daddy, all for you, promise,” you’re whimpering out, cunt desperately clenched as you try to trap his finger in your heat. “Please, I want you so bad, need your cock, Daddy.”

Izuku pushes his finger into your core, curling it up towards that special spot that it seems only he can find. His finger is thick, knuckle curved in just the right way that it drags along your walls salaciously, eliciting a loud, careening moan from your mouth. You muffle your sounds into the mattress, but Midoriya is having none of that.

He yanks you by the throat, fingers digging deep into your skin until you’re sure that you’ll have bruises, “Nah uh, little one. I want to hear you scream for me.”

Midoriya pumps his finger into you mercilessly, your arousal coating him down to the palm, making your thighs slick. You whimper, your lewd sounds echoing off the walls. You can feel the tip of his cock against your ass, throbbing with heat, and there’s nothing you can do to stop yourself from imagining it in place of his fingers.

“I know you can be louder, slut,” Deku pinches your neck tighter in his grip, “I want the neighbors to know my name when we’re through.”

You try to protest but it’s cut short when his finger rams into you, two knuckles deep, a sharp cry splitting your throat wide open. The sound morphs into a whimper, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes.

Deku leans forward to kiss between your shoulder blades, his voice hoarse with want when he speaks, “That’s my girl. Do it again.”

He relinquishes your throat to start slapping your ass, his eyes unable to fall away from your pretty skin marked red from his ministrations. You grit your teeth together so you can better withstand the pain, giving yourself something else to focus on besides his unrelenting spankings.

“Daddy, harder,” you whine, your ass stinging but not so much that you can’t follow through on your plea.

A dark chuckle reverberates throughout the room, Midoriya’s smirk from earlier returning. If you could see his eyes, you’d notice the way his pupils have completely overtaken his emerald orbs, giving way to the parts of him that want to make you hurt only so he can be the one to soothe you all better.

He indulges you, palm stretched wider so he can land harder smacks to your cheeks. Now he’s got two fingers in you, filling your cunt with his knuckles, the scars against them giving you friction that makes you see stars. He pumps you in time with his spankings, slow but merciless. Deku is careful not to go too far, no matter how difficult that might be with the lust that clouds his vision, painting his sight bright red.

“Good girl,” he rewards you by stopping, grabbing your plush ass in his fingertips, digging blunt nails into your skin so it stings even harsher.

You rut your hips back against his hand at the sudden jolt of pain, tears dripping from your eyelids to the mattress, staining the sheets a darker shade. You whimper, your mind unable to focus on any one stimulation – your ass, your cunt, or your throat.

“You think you’re ready for my cock?” he asks, although you know it to be rhetorical.

You’re nodding your head anyway, desperately begging inaudibly for him to stuff you full, your cunt suffocating around his cock as he pounds into you. Deku slowly drags his hand from your pussy, words dripping just like your core, “What was that, Princess? I couldn’t hear you.”

Now you’re foaming at the mouth to force syllables from between your teeth, blubbering around tears. You sniffle, frustrated with your own headspace and timid with the thought of punishment for not answering quick enough, “Y-Yes, Daddy. I-I’m ready.”

“Hey,” he runs his hand, searing from the spankings, up the length of your spine, fingertips mapping out each vertebra, “you still with me, baby?”

You turn to look over your shoulder when he brushes his thumb over the little blooming bruises on your neck, evidence of his fingers claiming you for his own, “Yeah, I-I’m right here.”

A smile tugs on his lips, his fingers finally pulled from your sopping heat to coat his cock in your slick. You whimper at the loss of contact, cunt fluttering around nothing as you beg for him to fill you up again, any way he chooses.

And he obliges you, bottoming out within the first stroke.

You can’t help it when a fresh set of saltine droplets track down your cheeks, your head thrown back in pleasure as he holds himself steady, his pelvis flush with your ass. It still burns, the stinging of skin-on-skin doing little to quell the ache from his spankings. You lick your lips to try and soothe yourself in some way, your throat already crackling from use.

Licking your lips, you gently move back against him, encouraging him, “Daddy, I want you to fuck me. Please, won’t you fuck me?”

Deku sounds like he’s trying to hold back some sort of salacious sound, a strangled noise caught in his throat like barbed wire. You look back at him, chin pressed against your collarbone. It’s the sight of you that does him in, that wants to claim you for every ounce of what you’ve got to give. He wants to mark your body until there is no color remaining but bright purple and blue and red, bruises and scrapes alike adorning your pretty body, letting the whole world know exactly who you belong to.

The thought of sinking his teeth into every available spot of skin that he can find makes his fingers curl tighter around the supple skin of your thighs until you’re crying out for him. You writhe beneath him as opens his eyes, baring even your soul with his stare. His body squirms as he withstands the desire to launch himself at you, feral and promising with his teeth finding your pristine body and marring it for his own selfish cause.

At least then your bodies would match in their markings.

You’d be his own little galaxy; he muses as his hands massage into your thighs to keep himself busy, so he doesn’t follow through on the yearnings rolling around in his mind. He can see you stood next to him, your body littered in affections – hickeys that are blown out all around your body, little nebulas and planets with their swirling colors of purple and blue; long lines of bright pink scratch marks that streak forward like shooting stars curling around your muscles; pierced tooth marks that scatter across your body like stars.

Even though he’s the Number One Pro Hero, Izuku has never felt so whole until he’s balls deep in your pussy, the tip of him tucked up against your cervix so much so that you swear you feel him in your spine. He takes one palm to gently brush over your stomach, the bulge of his cock making his pride swell almost as much as your belly. You are his whole world, whether or not you are just as bruised and battered as he is. He will bear the burden of the scars if it means he can have you like this forever.

“Take me so well, Princess,” he murmurs into the skin of your shoulders, leaning forward so his chest is pressed flush with your back.

He is hot, but not unbearably so. Almost in a way that reminds you he is still there, an anchor for your soul to latch onto in the darkness of the room, holding you firmly to tether you to this version of reality. You grasp the sheets in your hands, desperate to feel him but unable to from this position, so you settle for the thread count instead.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel you,” you beg him again, whimpers bubbling up into your chest like champagne bubbles. The effervescent feeling is almost too much, too overwhelming, as it rushes to your head quickly. You have to close your eyes, so you do not get dizzy. You see stars as your lids come down over your pupils and the sight of them reminds you of Izuku’s body. So much so that you want to look up at him again, begging him with your words, “Want to touch you.”

Deku obliges you, slowly pumping his tremoring cock in and out of your heat, coating himself in your slick before twisting your body around so you can peer up at him through half-lidded eyes, “Look at this slutty, sloppy pussy. Such a pathetic little mess for me, aren’t’cha?”

“Yes, Daddy, all for you.” You nod, blinking repeatedly to try and keep your eyesight clear so you can make out his beautiful travesty of a body. Despite the absolute adoration held in your pretty orbs, Deku notices that it is not his face you seek out when you first are turned to look at him, instead your eyes drift to the bared parts of his body that he hates most.

It would seem that each time you find him this way, with your hands mapping out his torso underneath your touch, you find a new part of him, a new marking that you don’t remember being there before. Your breath shudders from your lungs and it feels like thunder erupts in your chest when you breathe, “Please, Daddy.”

You are pouting as you start to run your touch up his arms, starting at his wrists where his palms are pinning your hips into the bed. You swirl your thumbnail around the familiar scars of his hands, those old marks from his time at Yuuei, pushing himself to be the best young hero-in-training there ever was. You recall watching the Sports Festival in his first year, the fight with Todoroki Shouto like a burnt ember settled in the back of your mind. You see the fire and the ice, the shuddering arena shaking with the imminent power of the teenager prodigies.

A hum buzzes in your throat as your fingerprints map out the way to his elbows, finding lengthy scars that make you shudder. Your tongue lolls out against your lips as you wish you could patch his body up with your kiss. You know that he does not marvel at the sight of himself in the same way that you might; you put him up on this pedestal, scars and all, and yet he only sees them as a weakness.

The rough patch of tarnished skin on his right bicep has begun to lose its rigidity as time passes. It was one of his first scars and has been worn down with time. Your hand still finds it, though, even as your eyes are screwed shut and he is angled away from you. It’s like you have a map of his body burned into the back of your eyelids, memorized from all of the times that you’ve fallen apart beneath him or comforted him with your touch.

He is patronizing when he speaks next, eyes blown to hell at the sight of you so far gone for him when he hasn’t even brought you to your first orgasm. He can feel you spasming around him, cunt flexing to try and coax him closer to the edge. He is nowhere near the precipice, holding himself off for your sake, wanton to see you come undone around his cock.

Your pupils try their hardest to focus, begging to be drawn to his bedraggled skin, the stark contrast between tan skin and pale scars heightened even further in your blissed-out state. Your palm flattens against the marking on his bicep, the flayed spot even more expansive than your hand in its entirety. You gasp as he ruts up into you painfully quick, your fingers digging into the rugged flesh, nails biting against the ridges.

When he stills within you, it gives you a moment to slacken your hold and trace the corners of the scar, pretending that he is a patchwork quilt, an antique that you’ll never be able to get enough of. You take a breath and use your free hand to find his chest, a lightning-bolt shaped scar that runs from his collarbone down until it fizzles out into a small scratch near where his taut pectorals meet.

Midoriya trails his thumb downward to your clit, brushing the rough pad of his finger against your sensitive bud. You mewl into the mattress, face turning sideways into the pillow as you no longer are able to hold yourself upright. You beg him to fuck you harder, faster, with something more that you know he has not given you yet.

“What do you want, baby girl? Tell Daddy exactly what you want me to do to this pathetic, slutty little pussy.”

You gasp out words, but he cannot make sense of them as they’re lost in the fabric of the sheets. He slams into you once before dragging his cock outward, slowly skimming the tip between your folds, “Louder. Or else I’m spanking you again.”

He thinks for a moment, tilting his head to consider you as he looks down his nose at you, “And I’m flipping you back over.”

“N-No, please, wanna-” You are begging for breath, your inflamed lungs burning with the lack of oxygen, and you can’t make syllables coherent enough for him to understand. You whimper, squeezing your eyes closed as the brunt of his hand comes down hard over your ass repeatedly until you’re screaming.

Izuku is holding you by the ass, both hands dug deep into the plush skin, “Did I fucking stutter?”

You are able to behold one last gaze of his ethereal body, skin marked like the night sky, before he has you with your face dug into the pillow, his cock and hips jackhammering into you from behind. He does not give you but a moment to breath, the fabric of the pillow stuffing your throat as you try to inhale through your mouth. You cough and it causes your cunt to squeeze around his dick. Deku stutters forward, a choking sound echoing in the back of his throat.

“Holy hell,” he mutters, leaning forward to drape himself across your back, reaching around with his hands to pinch at your nipples. “So fuckin’ tight, little one. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You whimper out something that sounds like a response, so he takes the lead and starts rutting into you again, the obscene sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing off of the walls. You can’t help the drool that spills from your tongue, wetting the sheets and sticking to your chin. You’re practically in tears as he abuses your pussy with his cock, it only growing as you feel the buildup of his power starting to swell from within him.

The air turns electric, but not nearly hot enough for you to know that he’s turned his quirk on. You force a glance over your shoulder, mewling out something that sounds like a pleading cry for him to turn you back so you can gaze up at him again.

“But I like taking you like this, Princess,” Izuku runs his thumbs over your ass, using the cusp of his power to strike small lightning bolts of seafoam color against the skin of your backside. You jolt at the pain, bucking your hips back into him and he moans, “There you go, baby.”

You whine, curling your toes against his hips from your position. He chuckles at the sign of desperation, sweat glistening down your back from exertion. His hips slam forward again, and you’re sure he’s bruised your cervix this time with how deep he has buried himself into you. There are ridges of scar tissue around his hip bones that you can feel even as he fucks into you from behind, the raised skin making your ass burn from where he has slapped you with the strength of his quirk.

“Daddy, I wanna,” you are panting like a puppy into the sheets, your pussy dripping onto the mattress beneath you. You huff out a breath and squeal when he splits your pussy open again with a particularly rough thrust forward, “Daddy!”

Deku pinches your backside with both hands, the biting touch of pain making your eyes water until tears are coating your lashes and staining the pillowcase, “What, huh? What more do you want, Princess?”

You know that Izuku is a sucker for your needs. If you whine hard enough, he’ll give you anything you want. So, with that in mind, you pout to give your demeanor an even more innocent aspect, “I-I wanna kiss you, p-please.”

As expected, he stills his hips from where he is bruising your ass with his scars and bones alike. You wonder for a moment if the imprint of his marred skin will leave an impression on you if you could carry around a little piece of him always.

However, this time when he yanks himself from you, a squelching sound echoes throughout the room in tandem with your mewling whine at the loss of heat, and he does not reenter you immediately. You are about to stutter out something akin to a protest, but you feel his fingertips dip into your sides and instead you let loose a yelp.

Deku takes you by the hips, easily yanking you upward and flipping you around so your back is flush with the mattress, the sweat on your spine making the sheets stick to you. Your eyes are wide, hands gripping into his marred biceps like claws sinking into his skin.

“What?” he is smirking as he nudges his nose against yours, the heat of his cock pressed into your folds but not penetrating just yet. “I like this angle better.”

He nips at your skin before pulling himself back, his hand groping your breast with purpose. He is tweaking your nipple under his touch while his other hand runs his cock against your slick heat, teasing you mercilessly. He watches the lips of your pussy tense when he gets close, wavering at the anticipation of his cock dredging into you with force.

“Plus,” Deku tilts his head, palm reaching up from your chest to grab your face between his fingers, “you never answered me.”

His thumb finds your clit again, dick teasing you by resting between your thighs, throbbing and dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his pre. His fingers are intense as they squeeze your cheeks together, lips ballooned out pertly. Deku chuckles at the sight of you, red in the face and begging him for more with the subtlety of your eyes.

Something twinges within him as he can’t keep your focus on his eyes, but rather on his body. He should feel pride swell in his chest at your adoration of his finely tuned body from years of hard work, but he knows that you are focused on the scars of his body and it gives him a sour taste in his mouth.

The thoughts in his mind flee from your pert chest and smooth stomach and instead he wonders what it is about his skin that you find so enticing. You run your fingertips over each ridged scar, finding the different colors of worn skin beneath the pads of your hands, showing them immense affection with just a gentle touch. His whole body shudders at the feel of you appreciating him with massaging motions and tracing, but he wants to ask you the questions he’s been begging silently for months, years even.

You are trying to form words, but the only thing coming from your mouth is spittle, drool seeping through the cracks of your lips until it coats your chin, cool beneath the air conditioning. Slowly your eyes roll forward so you can look into his darkened pupils, the middle of his irises resembling the darkest beauty marks that he has littered throughout his body. You smile at the sight of his intense irises seeking you out.

Midoriya laughs as the heel of his hand sops it up, smearing it back against your lips before cleaning his palm on the bed sheets. He leans forward, his cock sheathed fully within you as he grows closer to your face. Your palm reaches out to cup his jaw, the tips of your fingers finding the familiar pale lines of his skin to trace like it were a nervous tick.

“C’mon, now,” he kisses your nose, an innocent gesture in stark contrast to the intense motions he’s administering to your clit. “Tell Daddy.”

Your mouth splits wide open with the three words, a confession you know that he’s heard you utter before, but it does not come any less lascivious from your lips the more you beg, “One for All.”

He does not respond immediately, pupils dilated as he glances down at you. Your body squirms beneath his lack of movement, begging for some sort of friction on any part of you. The skin of your ass tingles as he presses you down firmer into the mattress, and you want to cry out but all you can blubber is those three words, again and again, as you plead for him to use his quirk on you.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you swear to him, nodding your head enthusiastically, “I want it so bad, Daddy, please, I want you to-”

Your begging is cut short by a sizzling in the air, the familiar popping of his quirk activating making your skin pebble with goosebumps. Your mouth runs dry at the sight of his skin lighting up with those familiar red lines, power coursing through his veins and making his hair stand on end.

Reaching up, you run your fingers through it, nails scraping at his scalp so you can feel the heat of his energy sparking against your fingertips. You arch your back upward to try and catch some of the wayward sparks, the salacious stinging of your skin only furthering the copious amount of slick between your thighs.

Deku tilts his head up to look you in the eyes, pupils shrunken down so his sea green irises can shine bright, glowing in the darkness of your bedroom. The entire room is aglow with his power, the very strength and resilience that has allowed him to build up so much intensity a conduit for your pleasure. His cock pulses against your thighs and you find yourself clenching around him, your body begging for him to stay close, too frightened at what might happen if he were to pull away.

“This what you wanted?”

His voice is deeper now, a rumbling timbre in his chest that makes your toes curl. You are panting at the expectancy of it all, sweat trickling down your temples and spine from the sudden change in temperature. The heat rises the longer he uses his quirk, so much so that you wonder if you could burn from it. The thought excites you, lights up your eyes until you cannot hold it in anymore.

You lean forward to kiss him on the mouth, slotting your lips between his. Pops of electricity stem from his entire body, sparking in midair before fizzling out with a gentle wash of ash. Deku licks at the seam of your lips, pressing his tongue between your teeth to map out every bump of your gums.

“Please,” you whimper against his tongue, “fuck me, hero.”

You have no more than spoken the words when his cock slips into your heat, coated with your arousal as quickly as he can rut forward. He grits his teeth to keep his composure, body trying to crumble between the use of his quirk and the feel of your tight cunt. You can’t help but notice the way he stretches you out even more so now than before, and you know that it’s in part to the fact that his girth has widened even further after he’s summoned his dormant power.

Deku reaches forward to press his glowing palm to your chest, rolling the bud of your breast between his fingertips as he starts to fuck into you. Your body is racked with effort, practically a ragdoll beneath him, all weak joints and jellied bones. And yet he is as powerful as ever between his mouth and his hands and his dick, every part of him built for your utmost undoing.

Lines of electricity fly from his body, bright green lightning strikes making the air pop all around you. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth when the first one stings your skin, lighting up the room in a flash of intense voltage. Izuku pauses, his hips stilling, “Baby?”

“Again,” you are panting, eyes half-closed as you revel in the pleasure from the shockwave. “Please.”

Deku has to focus on the electric side-effect of his quirk, closing his eyes so he can control the power radiating from his body. He starts to roll his hips into you slowly, once he feels settled with the coursing energy brought on by One for All.

You peel your lids back so you can watch as energy rushes through his frame, lighting up his body in such a way that reminds you of the pure power that he keeps hidden from the world most of the day. The light coursing just beneath his skin only serves to further draw out the beauty of his marred skin. His freckles are stars painted against the bright red and green patterns of electricity surging around his body like lightning bolts. You reach up to brush your thumbs against the apples of his cheeks, sucking in a breath at the sheer heat he’s radiating.

The reality that you have the very universe under your touch does not go unnoticed by you. You marvel at the constellations splayed out before you on his skin, giving you a small drop of the milky way right here in your home. It is overwhelming, the thought of it all dizzying as the heat thuds against the back of your eyes. And despite the boulder that sits on your shoulders at the burden of having to hold up his universe, you feel a jolt of exhilaration with the responsibility settling in your belly. You will be the one who he can crumble into when he’s tired of shining out for everyone else.

After all, a star can only be born after a nebula collapses.

Deku’s arms are strong around you as he holds you in place, cock sliding deep into your heated core, collecting your slick and his pre for easier lubrication, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft making you shiver as it drags against your walls. His biceps flex with the use of his quirk and the effort of holding you in midair to keep you snapped up into him and your hands are drawn to his bulging muscles all over again.

There is no doubt that he could keep you safe from any harm – one flick of his fingers, and a villain is rendered to a helpless annoyance.

The notion makes you shiver, reaching your hands up towards his shoulders, caressing his arms to feel the protruding cords of muscle rippling under the stress of his quirk. Your fingerprints find scars, puckered pink and marring his pretty tan skin. Other people might think that these markings make him weak, proving that he is fallible, mortal. But you think that every line on his body is a visible reminder that he has given so much to those who might not ever give it back. He has been beaten, bruised, and broken, and yet here he still stands, tall and proud in the face of danger.

Izuku knows that look in your eyes – wonder, awe, respect.

It swells his pride even further, his chest taut as he puffs himself up at the sight of you with adoration like stars in your irises. His thrusts are more intense now, guiding you closer to the cusp of pleasure, begging your body with the pulse of his cock to come undone.

“I-Izu, please.” You’re pushing your face into the pillow now, the burning hot pool building up steam in your belly becoming too much. He doesn’t even care that you’ve slipped up, not when he’s got you wrapped around him like a coil, working you from the inside out to drag the licentious sounds from your throat.

“Please what, Princess?” His hand sparks electricity around your chest, your nipple now pert with the fizzle of electricity as it creeps beneath your skin and into your veins. “Look at me, c’mon.”

He smacks the side of your breast, watching as the round flesh ripples under his ministrations. He breathes heavy, his chest inflating rapidly as his hips drill mercilessly into you. You clamp around him, quietly pleading with him to stay buried to the hilt so you.

When you don’t respond by turning your head, Midoriya grabs you by the cheeks, dominantly forcing your vision back to him. He’s almost regretful when you whimper, a shining trail of drool spilling from your mouth to pool into the pillowcase. The damp spot draws his attention and his cock twitches within your pussy, brushing up into your cervix and making you cry out, throat so hoarse that your voice cracks.

Izuku blinks hard, pulling his eyes away from the dark circle on the pillow to focus on your face, slipping his thumb into your mouth to press down on the center of your tongue. He smirks, his free hand holding you by the ass now, digging blunt nails into your flesh to create a conduit for his electricity to flow straight to your backside.

You whimper around his digit, the sound muffled by his finger, “G-Gonna come, Daddy.”

“Are you now?” he asks proudly, tilting his head to consider you. “Did I say you could come?”

You’re shaking your head as he grabs your ass harder, bringing tears to your eyes at the immense pressure combined with the raw feeling from his spankings earlier. As if to challenge you, Deku starts jutting forward, driving your hips deeper into the mattress until you feel like you might fall through.

The use of his quirk makes him so much stronger, his corded body trying to restrain from using its full power on you, despite calling all of it forward. He grits his teeth down so hard that you think you hear his jaw creaking, but you hardly have time to notice before you’re having to ward off your own pleasure. Using every ounce of One for All, Izuku bruises your cervix with the engorged head of his cock, the quirk enlarging every part of him.

You beg him with blurred words and hazy vision, whining and keening, until he’s leaning down close to your face, his hand now moved from your mouth to your throat, wet fingers wrapped around your neck.

“Good girl,” he murmurs with his nose against your cheek, lips dancing along your jawline to place feather light kisses, much in contrast to the otherwise bludgeoning intensity of the rest of his ministrations. “Such a pretty little thing.”

Your eyes find his face as he leans back to look down at you, the freckles dusted over his cheeks stark beneath his bright red streaks symbolizing the use of his quirk. You reach upward to tuck your palm against his cheek, cupping the skin burning hot with the coursing energy of his power. Your thumb brushes over the roundest part of his face and his eyes shudder closed at the feeling.

He kisses your wrist, bottoming out into your cunt with a harsh thrust forward. Deku turns his gaze to you, electric irises finding your soul through way of your pupils, “You gonna come when I tell you?”

“Yes, yes,” you’re practically foaming at the mouth, little spit bubbles at the corners of your lips at the thought of coming around his cock, your arousal mixed with his seed as he fills your core with his come. “Please, Daddy, I wanna come for you.”

Izuku nods, kissing your wrist again before falling back on his thick legs to grab you by the thighs, lifting you up off the mattress. It is just a display of his strength, his biceps bulging with effort, but it does what he intends for it to do when he feels your dripping arousal slipping from your slit down to drip onto the mattress.

“Fuck, look at your sloppy little pussy, Princess,” Deku moans at the sight of your silvery slick pouring out of you. He runs his thumb against the curve of your backside to catch what he can, running it over your clit before sucking his digit between his teeth.

Using his damp fingertip, Izuku begins to work at your clit, his other hand still pinning your thighs up in midair. He licks his lips at the sight of you on the cusp of pleasure, your body begging to come undone with the way your pussy clamps around his cock.

“C’mon, baby,” he coaxes you with a kind voice, electric pops crackling in the air like fireworks. “Come for me.”

You quit holding back, letting your body rush with a mix of adrenaline and pleasure. Every part of you is on fire, from his touch mixed with the searing heat of his body and the green lightning that strikes your body to leave tiny pink pucker marks. The sight of you marked up by his teeth and tongue and quirk bring him to his own heightened arousal, unable to hold back when he feels you gush with come from within the confine of your walls.

The glowing iridescent light making the room fluorescent fades into the dark with every spurt of his come into your cunt until he is no longer using One for All.

“Good girl,” he kisses your cheek, “now let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

You’re not sure what flips the switch within you – whether it’s the tight look of his uniform showing off the peaked buds of his nipples and the engorged head of his cock, or if it’s the blush on his freckled cheeks, making him look so much younger than the twenty plus years old he is now.

Whatever it is, it makes your mouth water and your fingertips buzz.

“Bedroom. Now.”

“B-But, the pad tha-”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Izuku’s thighs spasm at the authoritative tone of your voice and suddenly he feels about two inches tall despite towering over you no matter the situation. He tucks his head downward as he walks past you, down the hall towards the bedroom the two of you now share. Usually he is the one speaking those words as he stands over the top of you, his hand stinging red from spanking your ass as he orders you around, but the way they sound from your tone of voice makes his entire body quake.

The soft click of the door as it slips shut makes goosebumps rise on his skin, the stubbled hair on the back of his neck standing as upright as possible. There is a grunt from your mouth and a shuffling of your feet on the carpet as you kick off your shoes.

“B-Baby, I-”

Somehow you have shoved your foot into the crook of his knee, toppling him over onto the bed so he’s face first into the mattress, his ass perked upward as he tries to balance himself so he does not fall over. The globes of his backside are stretched tight within the spandex of his uniform, and you know the beautiful expanses of freckled skin that lay beneath the material.

Izuku looks over his shoulder, attempting to protest or ask you what is wrong, but you don’t want to hear it, so you lean forward and press your palm against his cheek, “You don’t speak unless spoken to, do you understand?”

He’s whimpering under your harsh touch, but the way his pupils dilate tells you that he’s enjoying it at least enough to test it out. You shove yourself backward, centered between his ass cheeks as your knees dig into the edge of the mattress. The tips of your fingernails run over the plush flesh of his backside, digging in to make him gasp and writhe beneath you.

Your heart hammers in your chest at seeing the up and coming Pro Hero wriggling like a frightened animal under your ministrations, and you’ve barely laid a hand on him yet. You run your knuckle up his spine, “Take your top off.”

The way he balances his head on the mattress and grapples with his shirt in an attempt to take it off is almost comical, so you crack a smile, thankful that he can’t see you. You lick your lips and drag your hand back down his back to rest at the base of his spine as he scrambles to take the shirt off, but he’s too flustered and it ends up bunched up around his neck and shoulders.

Finally, he gets so frustrated that he rips the fabric in half, shreds of thread falling against his skin and the sheets. You feel heat flood to your core, your spine white hot within your body, the tingles of heat spreading from the center of you outward until your fingertips and toes are blazing with fire.

You hum in appreciation at the sight of his rippling shoulders and trap muscles, his body shifting to dip back into the mattress, balancing all of his weight on his forearms as he leans forward. Your touch drifts from his shoulders to his obliques, the bumps of muscle corded beneath your digits. You watch as his body ripples with a shiver, every one of his muscles tensing as your fingers pad over his freckles, finding patches of darker skin to administer affection to.

It must be the pure anticipation that has his frame tense and quivering, the smallest of muscles twitching as you work your hands around his body. You settle your palms at his hips, flattening your hand against the expanse of skin at the center of his torso, “Baby, relax.”

You lean forward and kiss the dense smattering of freckles between his shoulder blades, “Now be a good little hero and take off your pants.”

The way you say it sends another wave of pleasure straight to his cock, the already throbbing organ about ready to bust from arousal and you haven’t even disrobed him yet.

Your feet pad against the carpet as you find your way to the edge of the bed, stripping out of your outerwear until you’re left in only a dark lace set, the filigree bringing out the beauty of your skin. Izuku goes dumb at the sight, turning his head just enough to get an eyeful of your chest area. His eyes about bug out of his head, wide and blown with lust as his tongue lolls over his lips, dripping a silvery string of drool onto the bed sheets.

“C’mon, Deku,” you force the word to come out in a patronizing tone, “strip for me.”

He swallows, his throat bobbing, but somehow manages to push through the aroused haze clouding his judgment to wriggle himself out of his tight-fitting hero suit. The bright green fabric is left in a pool on the floor, tattered clothes just the start of your destruction.

The head of his cock is bright red and there is a part of you that falters, wanting to beg him to take control and absolutely demolish your pussy with his harsh, controlling movements and his filthy mouth. It lasts but a moment, and yet he can still see it. There is a shift in his eyes, the way he considers you, and he leans forward to say something, but you’re grabbing him by the face, cheeks between your fingers, before he can speak.

“Roll over.”

Izuku does as told with little hesitation, flopping his shoulders around so his ass is once again in the air, primes and ready for your palm to lavish with spankings. Your breath shudders from your lungs and you lock your thighs in place by tensing them, centering yourself between his knees. The balls of his heels come into contact with your hips as he sways slightly, his mind dizzy from the promise of pleasure.

“How many?” you ask, your voice low and sultry, surprising even you with the depth of it.

A choking noise can be heard, but it’s muffled by the pillow. You chuckle, patting his ass prospectively, feeling the flesh ripple beneath your complacent prodding. Dipping forward, your chest falls flush with his back as you press feathery kisses over his midsection, finding the freckles like little gold pieces, adding each one to your treasure chest as you kiss it.

Izuku manages to spit out a number, something reasonable, and so you add a few more on top of it in your mind, smirking even though he cannot see you. You run the pads of your fingers down from the tops of his shoulders to the globes of his ass, the perky, round muscles making your stomach flip. You can’t wait to see the way his bruised ass mixed with the dark brown freckles of his skin – how beautiful the colors will be, how it might actually look more like a galaxy with shades of purple and blue as an accent to the brunette freckles dotting his skin like the night sky currently.

You reach your hands back and start to lay into him, counting the spankings in your head without keeping track of them aloud. You stop after you’re satisfied with his whimpering cries, his face buried deeper into the pillow with each endearing smack.

An errant thought crosses your mind and you can’t help but to dwell on it. If Izuku is already blubbering, how much farther can you take this before he’s crying into the pillow? The idea that you can bring one of the strongest men in the world to tears sets off a string of dynamite in your heart, the fuse triggering something akin to pride in your chest. You feel your whole body swell at the thought and you know that you must make it a reality tonight.

“How many was that?” you ask patronizingly, digging your nails into his ass to hear him squeak.

Your hands are already raw, burning at the feel of slapping his muscled backside repeatedly. Still, you knead your hands into him to elicit a pained whine. He writhes under you, his hands curling around the sheets until they’re beginning to rip under his tight grip.

“I-I dunno,” he blurts, a curt sob breaking his words. “I’m sorry!”

You chuckle and it comes out much darker than you originally intended. You release his ass, the thick of it jiggling as you let go. The pads of your fingers are gentle as you wash your touch over him, appreciating the way the redness of his freshly spanked cheeks brings out the deep color of his freckles, the splotches even more prevalent now that his body has been momentarily abused.

“Oh, you’re gonna be sorry, baby,” you kiss each of his ass cheeks, flicking your tongue out to tease the heated skin, “you better start counting.”

Just as you punctuate your sentence with a sigh, your hands begin to strike him repeatedly. You struggle to keep count, desperately wanting to listen to his moans and whimpers as he gasps, mewling with both pain and pleasure as you lay into his backside. Midoriya is already misty-eyed, the feel of your domineering touch just enough to bring him to a subservient headspace, his spirit wallowing in the pain that your hands are doling out.

You barely have time to stop before he’s blurting out the number that matches the one you’ve counted. You smirk, leaning forward so your nipples scrape against his skin, “Good job, baby.”

The heels of your palms are what is stinging the most, so you can only imagine how his ass feels. You have a momentary relapse in thought, wondering if maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, if maybe you’re going to push him to an edge he can’t come back from.

Although, when too much silence has passed and he is turning to gaze up at you over his shoulder, every inhibition you have flies directly out of the room through the crack in the door. His eyes are blitzed, lust making his pupils swallow the color of his irises, forehead crinkled in desperation as he attempts to form words to beg you back to him.

You rub at the pert skin, brushing your thumbs over the smattering of freckles on the roundest parts of his ass. Deku is whimpering beneath you, calf muscles fully flexed as he rocks back and forth in anticipation of your next slap.

“Such a good little hero,” you murmur, massaging your hands into his glute muscles. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

Izuku whines, toes curling up beside your hips. He huffs but you can’t see his face to notice how fucked-out his eyes have become. You dig your fingernails into the flesh of his ass, and he preens, eyes bulging out of their sockets at the sudden stinging sensation.

You answer him with a resounding smack on his backside, making sure that your fingertips are curved just right, along with your palm, to make it sound much worse than it truly is, praying that you can manipulate his mind into believing that you’ve marked him for longer than a few moments.

The way the freckles on his skin trail from the top of his body to the bottom is nothing short of enticing. It brings about a certain innocence to him, something hidden that only you are allowed to know of. Your eyes can’t stop trying to put together a map of his body, begging to know just where the freckles begin and end. He is littered with them, his body darkening from time spent in the sun.

“P-Please,” his whole body is convulsing in pleasure. You can see his cock throbbing between his thighs and the mattress, his balls weighty with the impending excitement of his release. The bedsheet have a damp spot near the tip of his cock, most likely from his pre dripping at the sudden shakes of his body from your spankings, “I-I want more, Princess. Please!”

You smirk, hand hot from repeated spankings, “What’s your number?”

Deku pants, digging his nose into the mattress as if that might save him from having to answer. His hands are clamped around the sheets, nails threatening to rip into the thread count mercilessly, “I-I dunno, I don’t know!”

Your hand comes down over his ass repeatedly, unrelenting in your ministrations as you mark his backside bright red. You know that there will be little busted blood vessels to mix along with his freckled skin, purple lightning strikes that serve as a reminder to the way you broke down his resolve and conquered his body.

“P-Princess,” he whines, voice cracking in the midst of his sentence as he tries to beg for repentance, “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

You curve your fingernails into his skin, uncaring to the way his body fully tenses, dips and curves of muscle and sinew on full display as he lays completely bare against the mattress. You want to strew yourself across him to feel the ripples of his muscles as he tenses under your touch, to know the reactions of his body as they are happening firsthand. A chill tremors down your spine at the thought of him, all dense and thick beneath you, and how you have complete and utter control over him. You hold his pleasure in your hands, he’s entrusted himself to you in this very vulnerable situation, and the reality of it almost brings tears to your eyes.

Instead you focus your energy into snarling around your teeth, sneering his name like slander, “C’mon, Deku, be a good little bitch and tell me what you think you can handle.”

He is verbally silent, the only thing you can make out from his face smushed into the sheets is mewling whimpers to match the way his body quivers. You teasingly stroke your thumbnail over the blushed skin of his backside, bouncing your touch from freckle-to-freckle as you scrape your nails into him.

Another couple of seconds pass by before you snatch your hand from his ass so you can slap him again when he spurts out an answer, “Th-Thirty!”

“Fifty it is,” you chuff, digging your fingertips into his buttocks in a massaging motion, preparing him for the next round of spankings. He pants, rutting his hips forward into the mattress for some sort of friction against his throbbing erection, balls weighty with his release as they slap between his legs.

You tap his hip, letting him know that you want him to readjust himself. Izuku bends at the waist, seething as the bruised skin of his bottom stretches with the motion. You resituate yourself between his knees, ass directly in front of your face. A gentle kiss is pressed to either of his cheeks, eyelashes daintily brushing over his throbbing flesh, and he jolts his hips back into you until your teeth graze his skin.

“Eager little thing,” you tut your tongue, grabbing him harshly by the hips.

You selfishly want to mark him up, to remind the world that he belongs to you no matter how much of himself he gives away every other moment of his life. When the sun goes down, when the bright sky bleeds into the night, he comes home to you and the both of you fall asleep under the stars, wrapped in one another’s arms.

Izuku’s tongue lolls out of his mouth, sweat dripping down his spine as you press up into him, “Such a slut for me, huh, honey?”

The next time he backs into you, you pinch his ass between your fingers on one side and on the other cheek you bite down hard into his skin. Midoriya bucks forward at the sudden jolt of pain, only worsening the scratches left behind by your canines. He grinds his face into the mattress, pressing the mix of his tears and sweat into the sheets, begging for a cool release from the heat of his body as he searches for it in the mattress. You swear that he sobs into the pillow, begging you for something, but you can’t quite make out all of the syllables.

You line up behind him, your lower abdomen flush with his round, freckled bottom, “You ready, baby?”

“Princess, please,” his voice is hoarse now, all jagged around the edges as he begs you for more, “I-I want you to be rough with me, please? I wan’ you to mark me up.”

On command, your fingernails dig into the flesh at the curves of his shoulders, raking down the length of his back in one elongated swoop. He cries out, throwing his head back so his green curls brush the piques of his shoulders, and he grinds his hips back into you. You can’t help the low growl that claws at your throat as you trail your index finger down over the ghostly sight that your nails have left behind. He seethes through his teeth at the burning sensation lighting his back on fire, but he still does not complain.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you handled, okay?” Your hands find purchase on the curves of his obliques, fingernails burrowing into the taut skin of his abdomen, crescent moon patterns left in the wake of you. “I’m gonna make sure all the other heroes know who you belong to.”

Your name bubbles from his lips, a prayer he’s pushing to the heavens, blessing the stars with his babbling. In the midst of one of his mutterings, you begin your next round of pert spanks to his ass. You give him little reprieve, counting in your head as you go along.

He’s a blubbering mess, all mismatched syllables and grunts and moans tearing his throat apart until he’s crying for you to mark him as yours, to claim him in a way that leaves no question as to who he belongs to. The echoes of please, please, please bounce off every wall, a cacophony of sound making the hair on your neck stand erect.

When you finish, your hands are stinging profusely, but you make sure to soothe your palms over his bottom, the flesh bright red and angry. His freckles look even darker now that his skin has been accented with the beginnings of purple bruises and crimson handprints left behind. You coo, leaning forward to kiss the center of his back, pressing your body into him so you’re flush with every inch of him that you can find, “What do you say, pretty boy?”

When Midoriya turns to look at you over his shoulder, his eyes blissed-out so his pupils swallow his viridescent irises whole, he gargles the words, “thank you,” in a cracked whisper. You nod, trailing a row over kisses down the dip of his spine, nudging your nose over his muscled body, silently telling him to relax.

“You want more?” you ask him quietly, your hands digging into any surface of him that you can find to try and release some of the tension built up from the time spent together. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Please, Princess, please,” he’s blubbering out the words, thick and heavy with the emotion pent-up in his throat, “I just wan’ be good for you, whatever you want.”

You tilt your head, brows furrowing in playful contemplation, “Whatever I want, huh?”

He’s nodding ferociously, his chin knocking into his chest with his enthusiastic actions. You know part of it is to make up for the lack of words that he can’t force through his teeth, so you merely chuckle and give him one final spank to his backside, “Roll over then.”

The speed with which he fumbles into rolling over onto his back is comical. You watch as a flurry of limbs wind together only to come apart again when he’s on his back. Izuku is wincing, the glassiness in his eyes reminiscent of tears and he’s trying his hardest to come across like he’s not in pain, although you see the way that he favors putting more of his weight on his shoulders instead of his ass so he’s bent at an odd angle.

“Whatever you want,” he is gasping the words out, puffs of exaggerated but necessary breath forcing his cheeks to inflate. “I’m yours.”

The words make your whole body puff up, heat starting in your core and creating steam that rises from your esophagus to your brain. It becomes muddled and you’re hazy now, drunk off of the power that he has given you with those five words. You reach forward and slide your thumb against his piqued nipple, licking your lips as you think of what you’re going to do to him not that you have him to use however you please.

“All mine?” you ask, your voice grating against the front of your throat harshly. You hum, “What do you want me to do to you then, baby?”

He’s breathing heavily through his nose now, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath, “I w-want you to use me, please, Princess, want you to use my pathetic cock to make yourself feel good.”

You reach forward and guide his scarred hand towards your cunt, “Touch me.”

Izuku is eager to please, so he’s fumbling forward until his thumb finds your clit, ministrations errant and disastrous. It’s adorable, really, the enthusiasm with which he seeks you out only doing further service to your ego. You feel your head grow dizzier as your core turns with tumultuous heat. You know that you do not want to drag this out too far as you already can feel the twitch of an impending crest of pleasure building from within you.

His thick finger slides up into your heated core and it takes all of your self-restraint to keep your moans between your teeth, holding the sounds captive like they might tell all of your secrets if you let them loose. You bite your lip, sucking the skin into the bite of your teeth, tilting your head back so you can close your eyes and enjoy the pleasure as it comes.

“Maybe if you touch me just right, I’ll let you feel my pussy on your cock, huh?” You have to face him, have to see his reaction, “How does that sound?”

Midoriya is bobbing his head, agreeing to whatever words you’re speaking, he can’t quite make out any one syllable with the way his brain is drowning with the sight of you straddling him. He’s not sure what it is about you, but he absolutely adores the idea of you holding your own against him, wrapping your body around him and denying him of whatever control he normally possesses.

And maybe that is what gets you wet too, because you know that he could fling you off of him with a simple flick of his wrist, and yet here he is, letting you demolish every last shred of his self-respect.

You can’t help it, with the way he’s already beginning to drool and the sight of his eyes drinking in your semi-naked body, you have to feel the soft heat of his mouth around your fingers. It is too quick, the way you jolt forward and press the pads of your digits against his soft mouth. He moans, realizing just what you’re trying to do because he’s done it countless times himself, and opens his mouth wide.

Your fingers slip inside the seeping heat of his tongue and cheeks, the muscle lapping at your digits until they’re soaked and knuckle deep. You lean down so you are but inches from his face, the squelching sounds that your pussy and his mouth make together doing little to still the erection pressed against your ass from behind and the absolute waterfall between your thighs.

Every muscle in your body is screaming at you to sink down on top of his twitching cock and let him have his way with you, to rock yourself along his length until you’re both finding that beautiful high together. But you know that if you wait, if you drag this out and force him to bend to your will, then it will bring you both to your knees.

“So pretty with my fingers in your mouth, Izu,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He attempts feebly to kiss you, turning his head, but your fingers catch on the corners of his lips and stretch the pink skin until it is pale. Your eyes flicker toward the bow of his mouth where a thin, white scar resides. You remember seeing this one when you first kissed him, and the memory of it makes you nostalgic, the years you’ve spent together built up much like his scars.

You lick a warm stripe up the column of his neck, feeling the muscles and veins throb underneath your ministrations. The heat of your breath combined with the slick of your spit makes Deku’s hips jut upward, his balls slapping loudly against your ass as he ruts into you painfully.

“Did I say you could move?” You are leant back now, your fingers still in his mouth but otherwise you are parted from him. Deku’s face pales, eyes widening in fear as he shakes his head, apologies tumbling in tandem with his spit from his lips, drool seeping down his chin until it is shiny.

The heel of your palm comes underneath his chin, so you have your hand wrapped around the lower part of his mouth, controlling his head with the simple turn of your wrist. You tilt his head upward so he can no longer see you, and pick up your hips to reposition yourself so you are hovering above him, just enough so you can start to tease the head of his cock against your slick slit.

He’s whimpering, “Please, Princess. I wanna touch you so bad, please, I wanna make you feel good.”

You let him beg for you, pumping your hand up and down his cock while you brush the angry red head over the gathering silver slick at your entrance.  You chuckle as his hips shuffle in the slightest, his discomfort obvious as he is practically vibrating with the desire to take over.

“What is it, baby? Eager?” You sink yourself down far enough to take the head of his cock within your walls, clamping down hard enough to make him whine. “I can’t wait to fuck myself on this pathetic little cock, Izu. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll have to call in sick tomorrow.”

Another round of blathering drivel is boasted into the air, his words muffled by your fingers, but he still forces them out, nonetheless. His tongue continues to curl around your knuckles and lavish the pads of your digits, sucking on them in between heaving breaths. You let a small moan shake your throat, rolling your hips forward to take another bit of his dick but not all of it, not yet. The enjoyment you’re getting from his stuttering whimpers and moans only heightening your senses and arousal.

“Princess, please, I-I think I’m gonna-” An aborted rut of his hips dies when you rake your nails down the entirety of his chest. Your fingers catch on the rigid edges of some of his scars, but otherwise you turn lines of his tanned flesh red from your scratching.

Izuku whimpers, his body arching upward as he tries to take it all in stride. In doing so, he sheathes his cock completely within you, the base of his shaft now flush with your lips. You cry out at the sudden stretch, throwing your head back in pleasure as a wave of white-hot arousal makes your thighs glossy with a new wash of slick.

When you come to, you lean forward to place a palm on either side of his head, holding yourself up so you are loitering over him like a shadow, praying that you are as every bit as menacing as you’re attempting to be. You grit your teeth and roll your hips several times, unbending to even his hands on your body, relentlessly fucking his cock until he’s screaming for you to stop.

“C’mon, little hero, I thought you’d be better than this,” you take his earlobe between your teeth and tug, “I thought you’d have more will power. You’ll never be number one if you can’t even last this long beneath me.”

Izuku shakes his head, “I-I can, I can do it, I-I promise. Please, just let-”

“I don’t think you understand,” your voice is low, menacing as you nudge your nose against the bridge of his face, nuzzling the freckled skin. The intimate act is far more tender than your tone, and it gives Izuku chills that you can display such dual sides of yourself simultaneously. “I’m not letting you do anything.”

His eyes go wide as he realizes that there is nothing that he can do to change your mind, at least not in this setting. Deku’s hands still on your hips, his thumbs rubbing circular motions into your skin in a way that seems to be grounding him as much as it is stimulating you. You press a chaste kiss to his mouth before beginning to snap your hips upward and then back down onto his cock, clamping your walls around him when you feel the head of him press into that spongy spot hidden all the way in the back of your core.

You kiss all over his neck, finding clumps of freckles and stranded singular ones, lavishing the same amount of affection over each of them. Your mouth finds scars, both tiny, hairline fractures in the marble of his skin, as well as large, patchy ones that mar large splotches of his skin.

Even in these moments when you are the one doling out commands, you still find ways to appreciate his body. Your touch roams along the dips and contours of his torso, the rough ridges of your fingerprints searching for the matching ragged lines on his skin. You sigh into his throat and he slips a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, begging for you to come undone around his cock, praying that you’ll let him please you.

One of your hands wraps around his throat until you hear him choke, and then you speed up the pace of your hips until he’s begging through wheezes for you to relent. You lean back and he hikes up his legs so you can rest against his thighs, your body on full display in front of him. His eyes do not know where to land and neither do yours as you map out the various textures and colors of his skin – from the pale lightning strikes of his scars to the darker scattered splotches of freckles.

Izuku Midoriya is a vessel for the travesties of the world.

But you will spend the rest of your life trying to make up for its mistakes.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

One day it slips.

You don’t think much of it, because in the heat of the moment, with him buried at the hilt and you crying for release, the words don’t stick out very starkly against the other filth spewing from either of your mouths.

“Gonna stuff that pretty pussy full of my come, baby,” he bites your earlobe as he ruts into you mercilessly, “You’re gonna be so round and full of me.”

At the time, you thought he meant that you would be full of his cock and come, but after he starts to show particular attention to your stomach during sex, you wonder if there’s something else going on.

When he has you beneath him the next time, you drag his palm to your belly and look him in the eyes, “I want you.”

His freckles burn beneath his blush, much starker against his tanned skin thanks to the flush of warmth. Izuku tilts his head, the dark curls framing his forehead bobbing with the motion, “You have me, baby.”

You shake your head and whine at the lack of contact once he’s stilled. You bite your lip and push the heel of his palm into the gentle swell of your belly beneath your navel. He swallows, gulping so hard that his throat bobs. You lick your lips and take a short breath as he shifts above you, his knees digging into the mattress on either side of your body.

“I want you to come in me,” you murmur, tugging him downward with the gentle grip of your hand on his neck. You kiss him square on the mouth and his fingers reach to find your folds, middle and index finger parting you so they can slip inside to curl against your heat. You whine, the sound amplified as his tongue searches your teeth, “P-Please, Izu.”

Midoriya’s fingers thrust forward in you so intensely that he can feel his fingertips bulging your belly with the palm that’s pressed against your navel. His eyes widen at the sensation and it only spurs him into kissing you more fervently, teeth and tongue clashing as he tries to overwhelm every sense you possess.

You protest as he pulls his fingers from you, your eyes screwed shut as you whine. He tuts his tongue against his teeth, nudging his nose along the curve of your jaw as he places biting kisses along the bone, “Hush. Do you really think I won’t give you what you need?”

The authoritative tone in his voice brings you to silence, eyelids fluttering open so you can look him in the eyes as he leans back to balance himself on his thick thighs. Your touch is pulled from him as he goes further away, your fingers aching in midair for something to ground yourself with. Otherwise you just feel like you’re going to float away, your mind hazy with the effervescent bubbles of euphoria that travel up from your throat.

Before you have another moment to keen at the loss of his heat, he’s piercing your pussy with the head of his cock, butterflying your lips wide open so he can rut up into you with ease. The combination of his bubbling pre-come and your already slick arousal dripping from your cunt make the slam of his hips easier to take, easier to beg for.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” Izuku coos in your ear, dropping his head to your shoulder to suck on the skin of your collarbone.

The jut of his cockhead into your core makes it difficult to think, let alone form fully coherent sentences. Izuku seems to relish in this, though, because he does not slow the drag of his cock or the flow of his words. He continues to goad you into begging for his release, for what you truly want, and it’s maddening. Your eyes cross beneath your lids at the overstimulation of it all until you’re blurting out the first thing on your mind.

“I wan’ you to breed me, Daddy!”

Izuku falters for a moment at the brashness of your words, but you barely have time to feel bashful before he’s rolling his hips again, growling near your ear with a ferocity you’ve never felt from him before.

“That’s my good girl,” he mutters while trailing his lips down to your breast. He lavishes your nipple with the rough pad of his tongue, lapping over the skin carefully so you’re begging him for more. “How am I supposed to breed you, honey? Tell me.”

The patronizing tone of his voice tells you that he knows exactly what you want, but he would rather hear the request coming in the form of panting words and wanton moans from your lips. You sniffle, your eyes watering at the bruising pace he’s setting. His hands drift down the tops of your thighs, thumbs brushing against the innermost part where your skin is the most sensitive. Your cunt clamps down around him, fluttering at the ghostly feel of his tantalizing touch.

“P-Please,” you whimper, unable to think of something to say to fill the void. You bite your lip as his mouth works at your chest, tonguing your nipple before biting at the mound of skin to drive a yelp from your lips. “I want you to c-come in me, Daddy! I want you to stuff me full o-of your come, please!”

He pouts around your nipple, leaving the small space he’s just sucked a hickey into in favor of your pert bud, “I already come in you, baby girl, what do you really want me to do?”

You bite your lip and fist the sheets at your sides when you feel frustration and embarrassment wash over you. Izuku nudges his nose along the swell of your chest before leaning up to kiss your chin, hovering like a menacing shadow. His smile does little to quell the bubbling intensity in your belly.

“You can do it, sweetheart,” he’s gentler now, breaking his more dominating side so he can reassure you, “I know you can. Just tell me what you want.”

The shining in his irises makes your knees weak but bolsters your spine to force you into uttering the next words, no matter how uncomfortable they might sit in your belly. You take a breath and look up into his eyes, “I want you to put a baby in me, Izu.”

“Good girl,” he manages to muster out the words with restraining the growl that aches at the back of his throat.

His hips cant forward, fingertips now just under your knees. Your breath comes in shaking pants, your chest shuddering under your confession. Izuku kisses your cheek and then your nose, positioning his hands while he has you distracted. His mouth ascends down upon your own as his fingers dip into the supple skin and muscle of your thighs, bruising the underside with the ghost of his fingerprints as he pushes your knees back until they’re almost touching your chest or the mattress.

You gulp in pain as his cock stretches you out in a whole new way with your body flayed out like this. You look like a butterfly, your wings spread so he can smother you with his movements. Deku licks at the seam of your lips and you gasp, your mouth parting so he can delve his tongue inside. Your whole body shakes at the intensity of his thrusts, your irises swallowed whole by your pupils as they dilate at the feel of your cunt trying and failing to clamp around his cock to keep him still so you can adjust.

“Say it again,” Deku encourages you, his voice breathless as he ruts you into the mattress.

Your shoulders and the curve of your ass are pressed so deep into the cushion that you swear you might fall through to the floor. You curl your toes and try to angle your hips forward to no avail. He has you fully enraptured in the way he wants, his body practically controlling the movements you’re allowed to make with how he’s pressed and holding onto every part of you.

“I-I want you to put a baby in me, Izuku,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

A pert slap lands on the outside of your thigh and you whimper at the thought you’ve done something wrong. Your eyes water and you look up at him, emerald irises glowering down at you with a mix of primal need and control.

His voice is nothing short of a growl when he commands, “Who am I?”

Your eyes go wide, forehead creasing at the realization of your slip up. You can’t form the words fast enough, scrambling within your subservient brain to find the right phrase. You bite your lip as his hips still upon your silence, practically begging him with your body to keep going.

The echo of another smacking of his palm against your leg resounds in the room, sending a shudder down your spine. A new wave of arousal coats his cock from where he’s buried within you. He smirks, “Such a sloppy pussy, baby girl. You’re so filthy, getting off on me smacking you around.”

He leans close into you, removing one hand from your thigh to frame your face, his thumb dug into the soft flesh beneath your chin so he can force you to look into his eyes. “Now, I’ll say it again, who am I?”

You gulp, your lower lip trembling at the sight of him, and your voice cracks when you speak, “D-Daddy, I-I’m sorry.”

Izuku kisses your bottom lip before showing the same affection to the top. His gentle ministrations are rather contrasting to the way your hips sting with the memory of his spankings. You blink slowly, taking him in from this close angle.

He’s so pretty, you know this even though your mind is hazy with subservient want. His freckles and scars stand out so pertly against his skin, showing you a roadmap to someplace you know you’ll get to someday. You reach up to frame his face with one hand, thumb brushing over the speckled spots along the bridge of his nose and cheek, marveling at the sight of his beauty.

Deku turns his face to kiss your wrist, “What’re you thinking?”

“You’re pretty,” you blurt, voice almost childish in the way you say it with such wonder.

The phrase stills his nose against your palm, his breath hot as it rolls down your wrist and forearm. You feel your pulse beat harshly within your veins at the change in temperature, emotion swelling in your throat until your neck bobs as you try to swallow it.

It’s not the stereotypical compliment that he might receive, however that does not change its weight. Izuku takes a short breath before he begins to kiss down the length of your arm, nuzzling your elbow once he’s pressed there. He looks up into your eyes and the absolute adoration that is settled into your irises, bejeweling them until he is wondering if they might actually be gems, gives him the effervescent sensation all over again.

Pretty.

The word plays on loop in his mind, until he has dissected all six letters of it down to their very essence. The combination of your tone and expression as you admit what’s truly on your mind causes his heart to tear into his rib cage with the speed at which it beats. He breathes in short, heaving gasps, the warmth of his breath spilling over your chest, nipples pebbling beneath him.

If you were to try and pin down his appearance, you might say it were bashful. You have seen several sides to Izuku, but the bright red tinge on his cheeks, creeping up his neck until his ears are burnt with the color, makes him seem much younger, much more innocent. It’s hardly innocent, the way that he’s bludgeoning your cunt with his cock, but you take this moment to remove yourself from that fact entirely, instead focusing on the wobble of his chin and the mist in his eyes.

In addition to the shyness, you also see doubt, conflict.

You push your fingers into the hair behind his ear, beckoning him closer so you can appreciate him closer. Your opposite hand presses against his cheek, the scar that runs along his jaw ragged under your touch. Midoriya’s lips part, the tip of his tongue hidden just behind his teeth.

“Pretty,” he echoes the word, unintentionally, you believe, by the way his face screws up once he realizes he’s said it aloud. Midoriya reels back from you, sitting back on his thighs, the tip of his cock twitching from within your core.

Your face goes bright red at the admission, your hand falling away from his face in shame. You gulp, readying yourself for another smack to your leg in admonishment at your confession. You wince, hiding yourself as best you can with him looking down at you in such an intimidating way by turning your face into the pillow, closing your eyes.

The wait feels like forever, as if he’s going to edge you with anticipation until you’ve gone blue in the face from holding your own breath. He surprises you with a gentle laugh parting his lips, screwing his eyes shut.

You take a chance and open your eyes, blinking slowly so you aren’t shocked at the expression on his face if it contrasts the giggle that sets off another round of arousal between your thighs. You lick your lips and bare your soul when you ask, “Y-You’re laughing?”

“You’re so cute, baby,” Izuku kisses your nose, his grip resetting to your thigh.

The bruising hold he has on you reminds you that even though he might come across as twinkling eyes and a mop of curls, he is the strongest hero alive, and he could crush you like a bug if he truly desired.

He tilts his head, “I think you’re pretty too.”

“Y-You’re not mad?”

Izuku furrows his brow and leans back so he can study your face in its entirety, “No, Princess, I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?”

“I-I just ruined the mood by calling you pretty,” you have the urge to ask him to put his fingers in your mouth just to get you to be quiet. Anything to staunch the flow of these ­superfluous words that won’t stop tumbling from your lips.

His thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw until his fingertip is pressuring your lip to stay open so he can study your teeth and gums, “Nah, you didn’t ruin the mood. Answer me this – who do you belong to?”

Instantly your thighs try to clamp together, knees wobbling at the statement and the firmness in his tone when he says it. You swallow, eyes blown wide, your tongue suddenly becoming very heavy in your own mouth. You want to whine, to cant forward and take as much of him as you can but he has you held still with a palm in the center of your chest, pinning you to the mattress as he waits for his answer.

Your hand covers his own, fingers slipping between his palm and knuckles so you can anchor yourself to him, even in this moment. Your middle and index fingers swipe back and forth over the back of his hand, finding the familiar triangular scars and tracing over them with purpose. They ground you, somehow, when your mind starts to flutter off into this subservient space and you can’t feel anything from your knees down.

“Y-You,” you manage to stutter, thighs wobbling with the stress of pinning him between your knees. Your eyelids prick with tears from the embarrassment you felt earlier, and Izuku tuts his tongue against his teeth, “Why’re you crying, pretty girl?”

You shake your head and he kneels forward to kiss you on the lips, chastely, “Or should I give you something to cry about?”

Before you can answer, he simultaneously lands a harsh slap to the inside of your thigh with one hand while pinning your neck to the pillow with the other, applying enough pressure that you wheeze. Izuku smirks down at you, watching as tears well up in your eyes and cause them to look like glassy marbles. He trails his fingertip along the inside of your thigh, your entire body quivering with the anticipation of when he will strike next.

His cock twitches within you and the movement makes your muscles jolt. Your hand smacks against his thigh as you dig your fingertips into the dense sinew. You breathe in heavily, your chest expanding, “Daddy, please.”

Izuku begins to rock back and forth slowly, dragging his cock salaciously along your inner walls, the veins and curves of his cock making your cunt flutter around his girth. You whine at the slow pace, your palms studying his skin as a distraction to keep your dirty mouth satiated. You want to beg him to go faster, to give you more friction, something, but you know better than to ask him for anything in this moment.

“If I’m Daddy,” he muses in your ear, his breath a hot wave of desire as it rolls down your neck to splay out at your shoulder, “then it’s only fair that we give you a name too, right, Princess?”

The suggestion he’s making sends a shiver down your spine and you clamp down on his cock as he slips all the way into you, the base of him flush with your lips. You grapple onto him for fear that he might pull out of you again, but you want him to be fully sheathed in you when he snarls out his next words.

In digging your nails into his skin, you find a new scar on his shoulder that you hadn’t noticed before. It is thin, just slight enough that it slipped from your radar. It is a single ridge of skin running from the back of his shoulder to his collarbone, streaking his skin with a pink color in contrast to his normally tan color. Your middle and index fingers focus on it, mapping out each bump like your life depends on it.

As his body tilts forward, your eyes catch along a patch of intense freckles at the tops of his shoulders, where the sun shines most concentrated. Your exhale, eyelids fluttering as you feel his weight press down into you the closer he comes. The palm of your hand travels to this smattering of freckles, digging into his muscles in a massaging way as you force your touch downward. Izuku’s breath hitches as you circle the pad of your middle finger tenderly over the flesh, eyelids snapping open so he can look down at you in something akin to shock.

He melts into your touch when your ankle digs into the dimples at the base of his back, yet another scar providing friction against your skin. You whimper as his hips buck forward on instinct alone, the pressure of your body pulling him forward.

Midoriya nudges his nose sweetly along the column of your throat, open-mouthed kisses placed against your main vein that leads him to your heart. He breathes slowly over your chest, nipping at the skin closest to your nipple, but far enough away that he won’t hurt you if he bites down too hard.

“Mm,” he hums as he dips his head further, curling his spine so he can kiss the top of your belly, above your navel. His palm pushes into the supple skin, thumb drifting over where your uterus sits beneath your skin, “I can’t wait to fuck you ‘till you’re full of me, Princess. Isn’t that what you want?”

You’re begging him silently with ferocious nods, dipping the pads of your fingers into his shoulder blades to pull him closer once more so he can rut into you with his strong hips. You feel the head of his cock brush against you from the inside, and that along with the added pressure of his palm pushing into you, makes you keen loudly, a whine rippling through your lungs.

At that sound, Izuku loses any and all control he might have had on his body before, one of his hands now holding your thigh up so he can dominate you from above, your ass not even flat against the mattress anymore. It’s a good reprieve from the suffocating heat beneath your back, but the only thing you can truly focus on is the way that his hips drive into you in midair, his knees bolstering him forward to fuck into you relentlessly.

“You’ll be so fuckin’ pretty with my come dripping out of this sloppy pussy,” Izuku’s voice is slurred with pleasure, his eyes closed as he ruts into you from above. You whine, your chin ducked into your chest at this angle, but it doesn’t matter that it’s slightly uncomfortable; the only thing you can pay attention to is the way he fills you up, stretching your pussy with his thick cock.

Pulling almost all the way out only to slam into you again makes your cunt clench when he’s fully sheathed to try and keep him captive. He’s too strong, though, and he pulls away easily, the added tension only providing the both of you with further pleasure. You both whine, Izuku’s head dropping so you can no longer see his eyes, forehead covered completely by dark curls caked with sweat and sticking to his skin.

Deku licks his lips and you watch as he tilts his head to gaze down at you, the primal need to see you full giving his eyes a deeper color, a green so dark it’s almost black. The sight of him so overcome with arousal makes your stomach turn, a fresh wave of heat coating your inner walls and slipping down his cock in the form of silvery slick.

He pants, his jaw hung open, “You want me to fill you up? Come in you over and over until you can’t take it anymore, until your pretty belly is bulging with my come?”

You don’t have the chance to respond when he bottoms out within you, stretching you out even further as his cock spasms with desire. It’s like he’s growing within you even more so now that he’s imagining your tummy swollen from his come. Your jaw hangs open even as you throw your head back, your hands flying to the comforter to snag what you can beneath your fingernails.

Izuku does not waste the sight of your neck, bare and open, practically begging for him to claim as his canvas. With his next stroke he is careening forward to latch his tongue and teeth onto the sensitive skin, your jugular pulsing beneath his mouth. Your hand flies upward to tug at the wild curls near the back of his scalp, your thighs held in place by his hips as he continues into you at a steady pace.

“I can’t wait to put a baby in you, Princess,” Izuku is panting in your ear now, the lewd sounds of his hips bucking into yours the only other sound you can make out. Your shoulders shudder underneath his weight but he is holding you like an anchor, so you know that you are safe in his embrace. You turn your head, so your cheek is pressing into his, leeching the heat from his skin until your own flesh is burning.

“Fuck,” Deku laps at your throat aimlessly, as if he can’t quite get where he wants, but he doesn’t know what else to do, “Gonna fill you up every time I get the chance, breed you until you’re begging for me to stop. Pump that pretty pussy full of my come until you can’t walk straight.”

Your cunt spasms around his cock and he knows that means you’re close to coming. He’s pushed off his own release in favor of coming in tandem with you, so he starts to pump into you faster, drifting a hand down to your clit to try and stimulate you closer to the precipice of pleasure. You’re whining, nails dragging against his biceps unforgivingly, “Daddy, c’mon, I want you to come in me. Please, won’t you come in me? Fuck me full of your come, please!”

The entirety of your mouth is sandpaper dry with your insistent begging. You lick your lips at the feel of his cock spasming within your core, the tip of him brushing against your cervix in a bruising manner. “I-I wanna make you a Daddy for real, please, won’t you put a baby in me?”

A feral growl parts his lips at your request, and your body clenches from head to toe at the sound. You can’t breathe, your entire being is suffocated by the essence of him – body, mind, soul. He is everything and it covers you like a hot blanket, searing into your skin until you’re branded for him.

“You want this load?” he asks breathlessly. “Want me to breed you up good?”

He is barely able to look at you when you whimper out your response. Goosebumps cover the expanse of his body as he thinks about what you’d look like, swollen with the imminent promise of his baby growing in you. Something digs into him at the base of his spine, something that makes him ache with the need to see you waddling around, unable to see your ankles as you rest your palm on the top of your tummy. Izuku squeezes his eyes shut so he can listen to your wanton desperation, sweat making the two of you stick together at every juncture.

Deku grunts one last time before all his resolve floods from his body, “Here you go, Princess, don’t waste it.”

The angle he has your body in, folded up like a pretzel, would usually make it hard for you to waste any of it, but the sheer amount of come being pumped into you makes you nervous. You feel the familiar seeping of his seed from your cunt and you reach down to try and sop it up, but Izuku beats you to it. He uses his thumb to collect the milky fluid, rubbing it over your clit to use as lubricant as his dick continues to pump the rest of his load into your abused hole.

“Good girl,” he whispers absentmindedly as he fucks you through his aftershocks, the pad of his thumb driving you crazy as you squirm beneath him. Izuku can tell by the sheer force with which you’re clamped down on him that you’re chasing your own high, your eyes squinted closed so you can focus on orgasming until you’ve coated his cock with your arousal.

Izuku fights through the bliss that’s clouding his mind to lean down and kiss over your face, “C’mon, Princess, come for me.”

When your eyes split open, the first thing you notice is the scar that cuts from his hairline down over his eyebrow, separating the tail of his brow from the base. You reach up to brush your fingertip over it, your heels dug into the curve of his ass to bring yourself closer to him, if that were at all possible. Your mouth hangs open as your thumb maps out the scar, ragged flesh the very opposite of the remaining smooth plane of his body.

“I love you,” you whisper, silent silver tears leaking from your eyes as the combination of all of your senses being stimulated pushes you over the crest, drowning you in the waves of pleasure he creates by rocking into you.

It has taken years for Izuku to understand that you paying attention to the jagged parts of his body does not mean that you would not love him if he were any less broken.

Your vision passes over each inch of his body, taking inventory of the markings on his body – freckles, blemishes, scars – as if they might have changed since the last time you looked. Your hands roam over his shoulders, finding the pale scars and dipping your fingertips against them to feel the ridges against the rough pad of your digits.

Midoriya melds his mouth against yours, lost in the taste of you as his cock spasms within your tight heat. Your entire bodies are coated in a mixture of tears and sweat and slick, but you don’t care as he lowers himself down on top of you until you’re flush with one another from shoulder to ankle.

His tongue is mapping the curvatures of your teeth when he responds in kind, “I love you, too.”

He slows once he realizes you’ve both been milked of whatever else you might have left to give. Your body is gently placed back down on the bed, hot sweat sticking to the cooled sheets. Izuku kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, lavishing each inch with the utmost affection, it could make you cry.

Your hands work through his hair, curls falling silkily between your knuckles. You lean forward and kiss the spot on his forehead where his brows are furrowed. At the feel of your affections, his expression softens and the creases on his skin soften into nothing but fine lines. Izuku smiles up at you, nuzzling your cheek, “You did so good, baby, you’re always such a good girl for me.”

“Mhm, you make it easy,” you croon into the shell of his ear as he tilts himself forward, still buried in you even as his cock goes soft. You tilt your head, curling a finger around a lock of his hair, “W-Were you serious?”

Izuku catches a glint of the diamond on your left hand, a proud grin bringing out his dimples, “You’ll know in, what, four weeks?”

The whole thing is too exciting, and you know that even though you’re still on contraceptives, it could happen. He doesn’t move to correct himself, instead waiting on your answer.

“F-Four weeks,” you nod, your tongue sitting heavy and dry in between your teeth.

Midoriya catches your hesitation, “We won’t change anything, except how many times a day I bury my cock into that pretty little pussy of yours. We’ll see if I can beat out the statistics on your medication.”

You know he’s talking about the one-in-whatever chance that your birth control doesn’t work, but the way he says it drags shivers up your spine. You curl both hands into his hair and swallow the thick emotion pent up in your throat, “You meant what you said?”

“Four weeks,” he echoes as if it should be an answer. Izuku knows better than to have a permanent conversation with you when your eyes are still glassy like this, your mind still submerged in that headspace he puts you in when the two of you fuck this way, rough and merciless. All he can do now is remember to talk to you about this once you’re both calm and rational.

Your eyes fill with a fresh set of tears and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to the base of your throat, “I’m gonna fill you up with so much come, baby. We might have to get you a plug.”

You tighten every orifice of your body, fingers dug deeper into the muscle of his shoulders. Your thumb catches on the curve of one of his particularly deep scars, slicing into him like veins on a marble slab. In your heightened state, it’s easy to feel like you’re floating in midair and might never come down, but the tactile reminder of his body beneath your fingertips gives you that anchor that you need to keep yourself from drifting too far.

Methodically, you drift the pads of your digits back and forth, a melody playing in your head that you play out against his body. The rigidity of his form, strong and barring as he loiters over you, only adds to the calm that you feel wash over your frame, settling into your bones like stardust. You feel lightheaded, but in a giddy way, the warmth of Midoriya’s body just as soothing as the patterns you’re marking into his body.

Two tears drip over the edges of your eyes and you look up at him, bringing a thumb up to brush his hair out of his eyes, “I-I wanna make you a Daddy. For real.”

You think back to the day you first met – how he stole your heart with one simple look. He has always been it for you, that you now realize. From the first syllable to now, he has reigned you in, held you beneath his thumb in such a captivating way that you don’t ever want to escape.

You want to give back to him what the world never could – a little hero of his own.

It’s a blank slate, a place to start anew. Something that the burdens of Izuku’s past can never bury under layers of scar tissue and regret. The giddiness that makes your heartbeat in a frenzy only gives you more confidence to reach forward and wrap yourself around him like an animal begging for comfort. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, “You deserve this, Izu, you deserve to be happy.”

“Hey,” he calls down to you, upturning your face with the gentle pressure of his thumb underneath your chin, “I am happy, here with you.”

Your face grows hot at his confession, and you wonder if you misconstrued your words. You swallow, rolling your hips upward to reconnect your bodies at the waist, trying to convey that you can give him so much more, that you’re offering up your body to be a martyr. Your eyes water as you link your hands around his neck, thumbing at the crest of his undercut.

“Please,” you whisper, voice broken but beautiful as your single syllable speaks volumes even in the quiet of your shared bedroom.

There is a growl that erupts in his throat and he lunges forward, sucking and licking at your neck. You whimper, falling slack in his touch as you try to keep yourself anchored to him with biting, blunt fingernails. Your jaw hangs open just enough that he can see the pink of your tongue if he leans far enough back.

As Deku reclaims your mouth in his own, the primal thing burning deep in his belly spurring his cock to go for round two, he can’t help but think to himself that he’s going to make you a momma, no matter how hard he has to try, or how long it takes.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

“Why are you so enamored by them?”

You still your hand over his bare chest, your index finger tracing the ridge of one of his biggest scars – a rippling cut straight through his pectoral, the tip of it disappearing in the curve of his muscles as they meet in the middle.

When you don’t answer, Izuku swallows the lump in his throat and sits up a little straighter, leaning his shoulders back against the headboard. He looks down his nose at you, shallow breaths making his chest inflate quickly, “I guess I just don’t understand what could be so fascinating about them. Why do you like to touch them all the time?”

You turn so you are strewn across his abdomen, your chin rested in the seam of his pectorals as you look up at him, “I guess they make me feel things.”

“F-Feel things?” Izuku’s face scrunches up in confusion, the wrinkles of his nose making you smile.

Tenderly, you brush your thumb over the creases of his forehead until he relaxes, and then you start mapping out the scarred lines on his face and taking inventory of his freckled cheeks. You sigh, chewing on your lower lip, “It depends on what’s going on, but when I look at you, I feel any plethora of things – sadness, joy, horniness…”

“My scars make you horny?”

You let out a laugh and drop your forehead down and bury it in his chest to hide the blush on your cheeks. Your palm falls from his face to his collarbone, gripping his shoulder as best you can. Midoriya joins you in laughter, tucking his nose into the crown of your head so he can plant kisses into your hair. He is always so soft and kind with you, especially in these moments after you’ve been conjoined by the hips for hours on end, your heart beating in time with his as you lay pressed flush against one another. There are moments when you are a cage of limbs and you do not know where he ends and you begin, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Seeing you all roughed up just does something to me, I dunno!” You tilt your head back so you can look him in the eye, “I like knowing that you can handle yourself, and each scar has a story and we’ve been together for years and I still don’t think I’ve heard them all.”

It looks like there is something on his mind, with the way his face tenses up as soon as you stop laughing together. You rub your ankle against his calf and force him to look you in the eyes with a gentle nudging of your knuckle against his jawline, “Hey, what’re you thinking?”

Izuku is not normally speechless or lacking in things to say. In fact, more often than not, you have to gently place your hand on his shoulder to remind him that everyone can hear his loud mutterings, or that sometimes there are more appropriate times to speak your mind. This time, his tongue lolls around within his cheeks as he tries to come up with the right thing to say.  The pattering of your heart grows faster the longer he is silenced, your pulse thudding like thunder in your ears as you anticipate what could possibly be plaguing his mind at a time like this.

Your thumb brushes against a scar near his ear and he circles his fingers around your wrist, “Would you still love me if I didn’t have them? If my skin was perfect, like Kacchan or Todoroki?”

“First of all, Todoroki has a big ass scar on his face, so jot that down,” you tease, pushing yourself up to kiss him square on the lips. You pull away from him but not entirely, still brushing your nose along the bridge of his cheeks, “And Bakugou has a stupid quirk that gives him great skin, so he’s an awful example.”

Midoriya rolls his eyes and shoves your hand away from his face, sitting up even further so you fall away from him, curling yourself into the sheets. His countenance looks overly contemplative, and it’s beginning to worry you. You sit up in the bed, grabbing his shirt off the nightstand to cover yourself with, tossing it over your head with ease. The fabric pools at your waist but it smells intoxicating, just like him, his warmth from earlier in the night somehow still sticking to the fabric to provide you comfort.

“You know what I mean,” he grits his teeth, unable to look at you as he poses the question, “I-I just…I wonder if you love them more than you love me, sometimes, is all.”

It does not take long for you to redirect his attention back to you, turning his face with a rough yank of your wrist. You look him in the eyes, and he is but a broken little boy in this moment, begging for you to piece him back together.

The thought that he is nothing more than patchwork put back together by the scars on his body makes you feel hollow inside. How can a man who has given up so much feel like so small in a moment of pure reflection? Does he not see all the good he brings to the world, and yet how little it ever dares to give back to him?

“Izuku Midoriya,” your voice is stern, and you watch as he bolsters his spine as if he were talking to a Pro Hero, “I would love you if your whole body was covered in scars or if you had perfect skin. Why would you say something like that?”

Before he can give you some long-winded answer, you throw a leg across his lap so you’re straddling him and he has nowhere to run to, nowhere to divert his attention. Your palms are on his face, cupping his cheeks and making sure to look him dead in the eyes as you give him a dose of the truth. Still, you fear your words may not be enough to satiate his wounded pride, his blistered ego.

“When I look at you, I see how much the universe has stolen from you, how much of your body the world has taken, and how everyone else just takes you for granted.” Your voice grows heavier with each word, the threat of tears sitting in your eyelids, making your face warm. “I see a man who, time and time again, gives everything up to save the world, and all it does in return is take.”

You intake a short breath, trying to calm yourself because this is his moment to ache until his heart feels like it might burst out of his chest. Now it is your job to soothe his burning soul with the salve of your reassurance, mending his inner turmoil with a metaphoric touch that you pray can seep into the cracks of his resolve until he’s full once more.

Brushing his hair away from his face, you lean in closer so you can speak softly, “You once called them ugly. I think that every single scar is a reminder of something that happened in the past. I love to hear your stories of how you got them, each heroic act displayed on your body like a little lightning bolt of truth.”

A sigh parts your lips and you drop your gaze to his chest, finding the familiar ridges of flayed skin easily. You lick your lip and trace your thumb over a few of them, relishing in the quiet moments before you have to speak again.

“I don’t love your scars, I love you.” You press your palms flat to his chest so you can cover the expanse of his pectorals beneath your hands, the heel of your palm against the swell of his chest, “I would ask you for all of your stories even if I never touched a single scar, even if I never saw one. I’d ask you because I want to know you.”

Your hands travel north towards his neck, delicately roaming over the thin skin of his throat before winding into the hair at the back of his head, “I’m so fascinated by them because I want you to know that I don’t think any less of you for them, that I don’t believe you to be weak just because you’re marked by your experiences. If anything, I think it’s beautiful, that you’ve been given this burden like Atlas, to carry around the weight of each on one your shoulders.

“But even though it’s beautiful, that does not mean that it’s right,” your voice turns cold, hard and jagged as you speak through your teeth, “How much more can you be expected to give? Does the universe not see what it’s done to you? What it’s asking of you to continue doing? I just can’t imag-oh.”

His mouth is on yours in an instant, his hands traveling up your spine beneath your shirt, palming at the skin of your shoulders. Izuku nips your lower lip and you are melting in his touch like always, “I love you.”

You tilt your head, gasping as he starts down the column of your neck, biting kisses in a warm, wet line as he descends. You echo out the sentiment in return, barely able to make out syllables with the salacious way his lips and tongue are working at your skin. Your hands twist in his hair and he pulls you flush with him so he can nudge the collar of the shirt aside to show your collarbones the same attention as your neck.

“Oh!” you pipe up, your voice hardly more than a squeak, “And I love your freckles too. They’re so cute and I love how they’re literally everywhere, even your dic-”

“Less talking,” Izuku takes you by surprise, tackling you back into the mattress, “more kissing.”

And you happily oblige.

Besides, you have the rest of your life to tell him how much you love his freckles.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

a/n: all right. that’s it. never writing deku fic EVER again. phew. kacchan, please don’t be mad, honey, it was for a friend, i swear!!!!!

also it’s almost 4 am when i’m posting this so if the last section doesn’t make sense i’m sORRY!!!

taglist: 

@tui-lah @viviankennedy @bnha-homeroom @frogsmarch @anxietys-a-bitch @succulent-momma @albuquerquemalu @ali-on-reverie @iamthe-leaf @kamehamethot @hoe-biscus @ux-l3ee @lovelustdollsworld @bigbootyconnections @alexandria-selina @eianthedumbass @sanguinekeigo @desia2 @loveydoveythot @shoutosplaything @thatloserweeb @kittysocks20 @jayetheanimefreek101 @toastedpopsicles @riotfuckery @spidrskarma @panbaigel @unsafetypin @peltho @mes-bisous @ee-blue @mildlyman @moondust-and-starlight @ihaileysenpai @hijackedreese @vampiregirl70 @gwizzpanda @powderedjellidoughnut @salemthewitch​ @unknown-girlie​ @mea-100​ @crystal-is-in-the-digiworld​ @phantomjeans​ @lozmarton​ @bananayogurtbitch​ @wwhndsome​ @violeteyedkeith​ @pumapurman​ @stfucanunot​

[thetrashsean]

“Why wasn’t Life is Strange 2 as popular as the first game?”

A lot of people like myself have wondered what exactly made Life is Strange 2 go so relatively unnoticed compared its predecessor, Life is Strange 1. And when you think about it, you may come up with the few obvious generic answers, such as the lack of Max and Chloe and just the original cast in general. However, I think there was a lot more at play here that prevented Life is Strange 2 from reaching the amount of success/popularity the first game had. So I want to take the time and break down what exactly happened to Life is Strange 2 and the things that hurt the game’s ability to really connect with the audience of LiS1.

Disclaimer: We do NOT know how well Life is Strange 2 was for Dontnod and if it was a success or not. No sales numbers have been given out to the public so there’s no way of knowing for sure how well the game did. What we do know is that LiS2 did not receive the same amount of attention/popularity as the first game. That can’t be denied, it simply didn’t. However, based on the fact that Dontnod have recently announced they are working on six new games at the moment and are now expanding their studio, even if LiS2 was a “flop” it doesn’t seem to have had much of an effect on them (most likely due to the success of Vampyr). Dontnod is going to be fine either way. Another thing I want to mention is that this is not a anti-LiS2 post and that I am a fan of the game. I’d consider myself a pretty big fan actually. I have my problems with the game of course and don’t agree with a lot of the writing decisions but I enjoyed the game very much overall. But for the sake of this post I will try to be as unbiased as possible, giving out only what I’ve observed when it comes to reactions from the fandom on different websites and forums. So with that all being said, let’s dive in to this.

Here I will be listing the many different reasons as to why Life is Strange 2 failed to reach the same amount of popularity as LiS1 or even BtS managed to achieve. This list isn’t in any particular order but some reasons are bigger/more important than others.

For some background, there was a lot of hype going into Life is Strange 2. The teaser trailer for it with the cop car trended at #2 on YouTube, a huge feat for the series. It generated immense amount of views and comments in a short period in time, completely surpassing Before the Storm’s announcement trailer in just a few weeks. So what exactly happened to all that hype? Where did everybody go? Well, let’s break everything down.

1. The lack of Max and Chloe: Yes I said that this list wouldn’t be in any particular order in terms of importance but I think it’s obvious this one is one of, if not the biggest reason as to why LiS2 failed to match LiS1’s popularity. When the protagonists Sean and Daniel were first revealed, the reception was pretty divisive. Specifically, a very vocal part of the community were baffled and disappointed at the lack of Max and Chloe present within the trailer and subsequently the game itself. This instantly turned off a lot of people from the game, as they couldn’t connect with the new characters or simply didn’t want to. At that point in the franchise Max and Chloe as well as the original cast from the first game had been the face of the series for almost three years. It’s understandable why it was hard for people to just…move on. To this day people are still asking for Max and Chloe to return. The Life is Strange subreddit is still dominated with Max and Chloe fanart. Whenever the social media accounts for Life is Strange post anything Max and Chloe related it gets way more attention compared to a post about Sean and Daniel. Whenever a post online goes viral about Life is Strange you can bet it’s most likely about Max and Chloe. Hell the only reason why episode 5 of Life is Strange 2 trended on Tumblr was because of the fucking picture of Max and Chloe. On the releas day of episode 5 of LiS2 the top post on the subreddit was the Max and Chloe picture. It was almost as if that one photo of them completely overshadowed the entire episode. Point is, Life is Strange 2 lost a lot of momentum the moment it was revealed Max and Chloe would not be present. Case closed, let’s move on.

2. The release schedule: Words cannot describe how frustrating the release schedule was for LiS2 when it came to it’s episodes. For those reading this who didn’t follow LiS2 until the game was finished, each episode took around 3-4 months to be released. This was because Dontnod bit off a bit more than they could chew with the road trip story in having to create new locations and character models from scratch. The reason why this wasn’t a problem for LiS1 was because Max was for the most part always in the same locations around the same characters (I’m pretty sure you roam around Chloe’s house like 4 times throughout the season), which made development a lot easier since the devs could just reuse a lot of the assets. Unfortunately, this wasn’t possible for LiS2 due to the nature of it’s story. The wait times between each episode made a lot of people leave the fandom due to loosing interest or simply forgetting about the game altogether. This also impacted youtubers/streamers as many of them either stopped coming back to play the new episodes or they’d not be as connected as they were in the previous episode due to the amount of time that had passed. One of the reasons why LiS1 gained so much popularity was because of youtubers/streamers and how they would bring in their audience and would pretty much make them fans of the series. With quite a handful of youtubers/streamers quitting LiS2, the game was not able to draw in as much of an audience as previous games did. This is how detreminetal the release schedule was for LiS2.

3. The marketing (or lack thereof): Square Enix really fucked up on this aspect. Due to the ridiculous wait times you would think Square Enix would try and advertise the game heavily when a new episode was about to be released, right? Well they didn’t. Not at all actually. Throughout the games release schedule from September 2018 up to December 2019, I had not seen a single ad for the game. Nothing on YouTube, nothing on reddit or any other websites, it was like Square Enix had completely forgotten about the game’s existence. Now don’t get me wrong, SE did do a few things with LiS2 like starting up the community series on their YouTube channel and also the dev updates that came after episode 1 (that stopped after episode 2 for some reason) but these went relatively unnoticed to people outside of the fandom and did pretty much nothing. I believe SE was trying to wait until the game was fully complete with all of it’s episodes released before actually marketing the game (and they DID start advertising the game after episode 5 came out) but that’s just WAAAY too long to go without any type of advertisement. I understand marketing teams have budgets and what not, but you’re telling me there was no way for SE to market each episode in anyway as they were about to be released? Seems a bit ridiculous, don’t you think?

4. The road trip story: I completely understand why Dontnod wanted to branch out and do something different with the story of Life is Strange 2 and I respect them for stepping out of their comfort zones. However, it can’t be denied that the road trip story where characters are cycled in and out as Sean and Daniel make their way to Mexico was a very…questionable decision. Seeing as how LiS1 was loved for it’s world filled with a reoccurring cast of characters that developed as the story went on, it’s really easy to understand why LiS2 was so off-putting for a lot of fans. It was off-putting for me, even. It just…wasn’t fun having to leave these truly interesting characters behind because the plot demanded it. This left a lot of characters feeling underdeveloped to many people and by the time you meet new characters you already know they’re most likely gonna be gone soon anyways, so it made it even harder to connect with them. Couple this with the fact that LiS2 lacked any type of mystery unlike LiS1, speculation and discussion fizzled out a few weeks after each episode was released. LiS1 kept people speculating and wondering about what would happen next, while LiS2 left a lot of people struggling to care.

5. Politics: Yeeeeaaaaah I think I had to put this somewhere on the list. While many of the people who tease and mock how LiS2 handled its political topics were most likely not fans of the series anyway (the type of people who called LiS1 “Life is Tumblr” and hate Chloe), I do think it’s important to realize that some people just don’t want politics in their games, period. I’ve seen people online come out and say that while they agreed with what the writers were saying when it came to the political topics, it overall still came off very forced and one-sided to them, lacking any type of nuance or subtlety. I could write an entire essay discussing if the politics in LiS2 were handled well and whatnot but this is not that post so I’ll just leave it at that.

6: Lack of a prominent female cast/wlw: This is a bit more tricky to talk about (for the record the person writing this is a black gay guy) but I will try and write about this the best way I can. For many women, specifically queer women, Life is Strange was a series they could expect representation from. Max, Chloe, Rachel, and Steph are all popular characters amongst the fandom and even other wlw ships such as Marshfield, Chasefield, Chaseprice, etc are popular. So when LiS2 was revealed to be about two (hispanic) males, the queer women within the community were understandably upset. It felt like DN were simply throwing away the community that for the most part made up the entire fandom. At the time I simply found the situation ridiculous and overblown as many people were dismissing Sean and Daniel as “generic straight males” (even though it turned out Sean was bisexual in the end) before really getting to know them. However, looking back I totally get why people were upset. A lot of the fanart/fanfiction that was made for the LiS series was mostly created by queer women, so when the franchise pretty much stopped giving them representation, they left in search of other media (like She-Ra, which honestly has better wlw rep anyway). LiS2 is also mostly male dominated in terms of its cast, and features no queer women as well, which is really disappointing in my opinion.

7. Price: This one is pretty simple. When Life is Strange 2 was first released the full season costed $40. This was a pretty big jump in comparison to LiS1’s $20 price tag (original price was $25 however) and BtS’s $16. Obviously people would be more skeptical about buying a sequel that is pretty much double the price of its predecessor and has completely new characters. With the pretty mixed reception from gaming communities I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of people saw the price and decided to either watch a playthrough or simply not check out the game at all. With the first episode now free the base price has been lowered to around $30-32 I believe so yeah.

8. Daniel Diaz: Some people just don’t like kids, and I wouldn’t be surprised if people grew easily frustrated with Daniel early on and once he got more irrational and bratty as the story progressed they just stopped playing altogether. Even if you do like kids, or at least don’t mind them like myself, Daniel can still be quite a pain.

9. Not having control of the powers: This one is honestly really disappointing and I know it was to a lot of other people as well. In LiS1 Max had the ability to rewind time and do certain scenarios and conversations over and that basically acted as the more interesting gameplay segments. In LiS2 Sean doesn’t have the power, his brother Daniel does. This leads to the gameplay feeling much more boring and mundane. There are also no interesting puzzles this time around, most likely because Dontnod didn’t know how to implement them without the rewind power so they just…didn’t even attempt to add any. The power itself, telekinesis, is also much less interesting compared to rewinding time, according to a lot of people.

SO YEAH that’s basically it for me. I know this probably came off a bit rambly/incoherent but I tried my best to be as clear as I possibly could. I don’t doubt there are other reasons at play as to why LiS2 failed to meet LiS1’s success (such as liscensed music not being quite as good as LiS1) but I think I hit the main points I believe were key reasons. And the thing is, there isn’t just one main reason why LiS2 didn’t do as well as LiS1. It’s overall very unfortunate so many things went wrong with it that ended up making people lose interest in it. I think the lack of Max and Chloe hurt the game the most right off the bat, but the other reasons just led it to do even worse. Oh well.

I hope any of the people who read this enjoyed it (it was a BITCH to write). I’ve been wanting to get my thoughts down about this for SO long but just never had the motivation/time but I finally did it!

Again, thanks for reading! If you have any disagreements or just thoughts in general don’t be afraid to reply or dm me about it and I’ll be sure to reply! Now back to reblogging Marco posts….

[taeescript]

IV. Script of the Angel (m)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse

𝔴/𝔠 >> 9.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned. sexual content present. 

𝔞/𝔫 >> another long chapter. sorry! the oc is as opposite to me as day is to night, but i have always enjoyed writing characters who are different. i feel like i’m being challenged to expand my own writing skills. as always, enjoy (: feedback and comments always appreciated. (i am curious: do you prefer long or short chapters?) 

previous part || masterlist || next part 

The taxi arrives much earlier than any of you anticipate. Jungkook is halfway through telling you about the unfortunate event of being kicked out of his rented room when the annoyed-looking driver quickly shoves you both inside. He asks you where you are headed. You lean forward and give him the address of your house. The driver mutters how the drive is less than five minutes away, but he accepts the job nevertheless. “How about you, Sir?” the driver asks Jungkook. Jungkook is at a loss of words until you intercede. “Same place,” you say. Jungkook gives you a confused look. “You said you don’t have any place to stay tonight so I’m extending an offer. Also, sort of like a thank you for finding and staying with me through this storm.” Your words come out much shyer than you had anticipated. He gives you a slight smile. “Are you sure it’s wise for you to invite a stranger to your house?” You blush. “You’re not really a stranger.” “Ah, I’m not? Well I’m a suspect to a murder case.” “No, you’re not! Jimin was only talking to you as a witness.” “A witness? He seemed a little too hostile for that.” As the conversation had carried on, you didn’t notice how close he became until you turned to come face to face with him. The small smile he always has continues to linger on his lips. You pull back and turn to hide the flush on your face that you know for sure is present. Once the heat seems to have left, you glance at him again. He is still regarding you with curiosity. Extending a hand towards him you say, “$10 per night. I’ll be your landlady and you’re renting a room from me.” He laughs and you can’t help but stare with wonder at how white and straight his teeth are.

...

The Body is a miraculous item of study. Inside, we have these little chemical messengers that act on receptors to tell us: wake! At the same time, they tell us: sleep! Just what are these chemical messengers that run around us like tiny men in a sleep-wake factory? First, when we are getting ready to sleep, Melatonin is produced in the pineal gland to send us a message telling us that it is time to enter slumber. Their levels increase as the level of darkness increases. Once our body is asleep, a surge of multiple hormones play a role. You have growth hormone from the pituitary gland telling (a child in particular) to grow and repair tissue; you have antidiuretic hormone (ADH) increasing so we don’t have to get up and pee in the middle of the night; you have oxytocin that may peak at about five hours of sleep influencing the content of our dreams. You wait nervously outside the bathroom door. You had both returned to your house and you had changed into a comfortable pair of sweats and a sleeveless top. Your hair was tied in a bun on your head; your scalp itching to remind you that it had been a while since you washed your hair. However, you had more pressing matters at hand. You had told Jungkook that he was allowed to use the shower first but after drinking one too many cups of water – your throat was so dry – you now desperately needed to use the washroom. The water is still running and you can slightly feel the heat escaping the warm room through the small crack of the door. It was ajar and the smell of your shampoo wafted out to meet your nose. It made you wonder if your shampoo had always been so sweet and inviting. As you are the only resident of the house, there had never been a need for multiple bathrooms and thus your only solution is to patiently wait outside until your guest is finished.  After what felt like five minutes but in actuality five seconds, you take a small peek into the bathroom. The glass shower door has been fogged up and you can only see a very hazy silhouette of its current occupant. If you were to dash in and release everything in your bladder at a fast enough speed, perhaps Jungkook would never notice that you would be in there. Just as long as you moved fast enough. You wanted to weigh the pros and cons of this decision but your bladder would not let your mind concentrate. Before you could control your body, you rush into the bathroom. Everything but the feeling of pleasure from the release of the buildup of pressure in your pelvis is forgotten. You close your eyes and let out a satisfied sigh. When you are finished, you deftly stand and flush the toilet. You momentarily lean over the toilet, reveling in the new weightlessness of your body, when the realization of the scenario you are in hits you. You had just walked into a man showering in your house. Not only that, you had used the toilet while he was washing up (naked) less than a feet away. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now, Jungkook would definitely see you in here. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now, Jungkook would think you are a peeping tom. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now – It is too late, however. You hear his voice from behind you, “Well, this is a surprise.” You turn as slowly as you can. Jungkook stands with the white towel around his waist. He does not look much different than when you had seen him drenched by the rain, but this time you are able to smell the masculine scent of body wash off of him. The first time in the rain, you had been unable to help yourself and glance at his defined abdominal muscles through his soaked shirt, but this time you choose not to peel your eyes away from the sight. The gulp you takes makes its way slowly down your throat. “I needed to use the toilet really badly,” you somehow managed to squeak. He tucks the end of the towel into the side all the while looking at you with a teasing smirk. You do not need to look in the mirror behind you to know the shade your face has turned. “I’ll be going now,” you murmur and turn to leave the room. “Without washing your hands?” he teases you. As if he now is not regarding you as a full out pervert, he probably thought you as unclean as well. You can’t remember what you say in response to that as you shuffle to the sink. The water is warm when it runs out of the faucet. Your mind is unfocused on the task in front of you as you can only think of ways to escape or talk your way out of this situation. “How are you supposed to wash any the germs away if you scrub like that?” You feel his voice vibrate along your back. You immediately tense up when his arms wrap from behind around you. His hands gently take your slimmer hands into his own and together they move through the lathering actions. He pumps the hand soap and his lips become dangerously close to your cheek when he reaches in front. “Clean between each finger and the side of your palm. People often forget to wash the area around the thumb and most of their less dominant hand,” he continues to lecture you. “Just be still,” the plea to your body and mind only being silently voiced out in desperation. There is no extra cloth to wipe your hands dry and so he uses the towel around his waist instead. Each action he does only made you become ever more anxious and self-conscious. When he seemed satisfied with you, he lets you walk away. You will your legs to maintain its strength as you take the steps needed to exit the small steamy room. You are stopped again when he says, “Are you always so innocent?” There is a part of you that wants to turn to look at him, but another part warns you that if you do, a larger temptation will face you. He strolls to stand before you. His eyes slowly make their way from your toes to the top of your forehead; then his gaze holds you steadily in place. You swallow again under his scrutiny. Taking a step towards you, he slides a finger under the strap of you tank top. The simple action makes you shiver. “Tell me, how long have you been living alone?” Your mind tells you not to answer him. What are you doing anyways? Just an hour ago you were thinking about Baekhyun and now you are being consumed by Jungkook. “How long has it been since you’ve been… touched?” his question comes out barely above a whisper – that is how close he is to you now. “I shouldn’t – ” you words are suffocated by his kiss. His lips mold until they wrap around yours. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you fall into him with such speed that it scares you. You feel both dread and thrill in your stomach. He tastes warm, that is the only thing your mind is capable of detecting. Other than that, your brain can not function and you feel yourself shiver in his embrace. You wonder if he has his eyes closed as well or if he was looking at you. Perhaps if you opened your eyes you would have an answer to your question yet you felt afraid of doing so. He pulls you waist closer to him and the dew on his chest seeps through your thin top. His skin is warm, but the now-cold water causes your nipples to become erect. He can feel them straining through the top, but rather than having his hand rise up to meet it, he slides his hand deeper into your pants. Your body tenses up at the invasion. “Relax,” the single word slurs as they are passed between your lips. The suggestion comes in the form of a command and your body strangely listens. With his hand, he forcefully grips the left cheek of your behind and roughly presses you lower body into his. The simultaneous sensation of pleasure and pain runs through your body. His other free hand brushes the nape of you neck. Your hands act of their own accord, and you find them running through his hair, all the while as he tugs on your lips; all the while that you become wrapped in his embrace. Your fingers become brushed with water, and you draw a wet finger down the middle of his back. It is his moan you hear this time, and the thrill rushes through your body again. For the next few moments, the two of you are captivated with exploring each other’s body. You think that he is about to lift your shirt off when instead his hand slips through the barrier created by your underwear. You freeze again. His lips leave yours and trace a pathway until he stands behind you, and your back is pressed tightly against his torso. All the while, his hand makes a crawling rotation until they rest on you lower abdominal. You place a shaking hand on top of this. You don’t even notice that your fingers have become icy cold. “Trust me,” he whispers into your ear. His voice is so low that you mind barely registers what he has said. You heart rises in speed in proportion to his hand that moves out from beneath yours and continually slides downward.

...

You wake with a beating heart. Your eyes fly open, and they are greeted with the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars you had placed on your ceiling. It had been a dream. Your breathing fights to become regular again, but the more you think about what you had awoken from, the more it loses in its battle. You know it is all a dream, but why was it then that you still feel the pressure on you lower abdominal? With a crack, your mind finally reels out of its stupor and a new burn in your stomach causes you to flush again. The act of sex is not foreign to you. You had given that away to Baekhyun the night you realized you were truly in love with him – the night he had proposed to you. But that had happened a long time ago and since his disappearance, you had never given yourself to another man. The thought had never even passed through you. So why was it that you had these thoughts now? Towards a man that you had only just met? Also, how was it that he could make you do something like this? Your hand slides out from your underwear and the band’s near soundless snap practically hands you its embarrassing reality on a gold platter. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had touched yourself. The concept was always too taboo and awkward for you to embrace. You were also not a person that became aroused by sexual thoughts, yet a simple dream had made you lose control of your body. You wiped your hands on the bedsheets, and turn onto your side in bed so you would no longer feel the pressure of gravity on your already tense body. Jeon Jungkook. You only invited him at the spur of the moment. You had both returned home and wordlessly showered and got into bed. You had offered to make a simple meal but he had kindly rejected telling you that he was too tired. He had also jokingly told you not to worry about breakfast tomorrow as it was the least he could do in return for letting him sleep at your place. Continuing on, you told him that he was allowed to use your bedroom so he would be more comfortable but he had patted your small sofa instead. He always carried a pillow with him and told you he could fall asleep anywhere as long as he had it with him. You squeeze your eyes shut. Why? What was this? Who is this man that has barged into your safe house?

More importantly, what is he doing to you? You curl into a tighter ball and press your thighs closer together.

...

The scent of sweet in combination to savory fills your nose and sends a chill through your body. Your eyes remain closed, still infused with slumber but you bring the blanket closer to you. A small breeze sends another intoxicating spiral towards your nose. It smells like pancakes. Perhaps with a thick layer of maple syrup and a cube of butter. There is also something that reminds you of salt – bacon. Sizzling, warm, crunchy bacon. The distinct aroma of coffee is blended in there as well. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you open your eyes. You yelp. Jungkook nearly tips the coffee cup onto your drawer when the sound suddenly occurs. He looks down and sees your wide eyes staring up at him. He meets them but you quickly shift your pupils. You look… nervous. Seeing the unexpected visitor makes you remember the events of last night. Your palms start to sweat and you only draw the covers closer to your chest while sitting up. The corner of the sheet dips past your shoulder and he catches the flash of smooth skin. “Sorry to wake you,” he scratches his jaw embarrassedly, “I saw you were asleep and I promised breakfast. I thought I’d try to quietly slip in and leave it by your bedside.” You eye the said meal on your drawer and note that your nose had not lied to you. “It’s okay,” you try to say. However, your voice is groggy with sleep and so you clear it once. “It’s okay,” you say clearer this time, “But you really didn’t have to.” “It’s nothing. I’m an early riser anyways.” He makes a motion to leave. “Wait,” you call after him. He turns back to look at you. His gaze is piercing and the strange flush that never failed to make an appearance returns. “I’ll join you outside,” you tell him. Smiling, he nods. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

...

When you had left, Jimin had sat down at his desk feeling extremely dejected. He was supposed to protect you and make sure you never shed another tear. That was his promise to his best friend. Yet here he is, as the cause of your pain once again.

“Sir, the files you had requested.” Yoongi knocks on his door. As the youngest detective on the team, he is often coerced into doing the grunt work. But his tenacious and hard-working attitude gave him rise on Jimin’s list of people he respected. Jimin tilts his head to peer above the top of his cluttered desk. New files had been opened along with the scatter of older yellowing papers. His whiteboard is nearing a grey colour at the amount of times he has written things down and then erased them. Yoongi listens and is about to leave his senior alone but stops at the door. “Sir, if I may, will you allow me to make a comment?” the younger asks solemnly. Jimin turns to regard him. His eyesight blurs and he has to hold onto the corner of the desk to steady himself. Quickly masquerading the moment of weakness, he coughs and stands straight again. “You haven’t left the station in three days. You sleep at the desk and your back is in so much pain you shuffle to get coffee. It smells of Chinese take-out and stale pizza in here with another strange concoction of coffee and sweat.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at him. Yoongi clears his throat but does not waver in telling Jimin his mind. “Go home, Sir. You need some rest. The case will still be here when you return. It’ll also be of benefit when you return with refreshed eyes and mind.” Yoongi stands still all the while looking forward. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Jimin walking towards him. His mouth starts to become dry knowing the harsh words he will hear from the his senior for speaking out of place.

Jimin tiredly places a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi rotates his head in surprise. Sighing, he says, “You’re right. My body is on the verge of breaking down.” He sniffs once. “And I do smell like shit.” 

Yoongi chuckles, both out of nervousness and relief. 

“I’m leaving the team in your hands then,” Jimin grabs his jacket from the coat hanger. 

“Me?” Yoongi says astonished, “What about Lieutenant Namjoon?” 

The laugh draws more strength from Jimin’s lungs than he anticipates. “I haven’t seen that guy for the past three days in the station, and both you and I know I’ve been living here. You’re young, but I like your attitude. The others like you too.” 

Yoongi cannot help but smile at the praise. He salutes as Jimin walks out the door. “I’ll do my absolute best!”

“I expect nothing less,” Jimin calls out and waves.

...

He had fully intended to walk home, but there are so many thoughts in his head he needed fresh air to wash out the stale one in his lungs and to clear out his mind. 

Sitting at the park just a block away from the station, he takes a small bite of the cookie he picked up from the station’s café. It is sickening sweet and he wonders how he had lived on these cookies when he used to pull all-nighters for previous cases. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” a voice interrupts his quiet. 

Jimin looks up and sees Namjoon smiling at him. Namjoon’s hair is swept back and he is sporting a white polo shirt along with khaki pants. His police jacket is slung over his arm and hides his badge within. At a quick glance, Namjoon looks like any normal civilian enjoying the autumn afternoon. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jimin lazily greets his friend. 

Namjoon takes a seat beside Jimin. In one hand, he holds a brown paper back and this is what he extends towards Jimin. 

Taking a peek inside, Jimin notes a container that has some type of potato salad along with another stacked container with mixed rice. 

“Youngji told me to pass this to you,” Namjoon answers his unasked question, “We thought you could do without any more of the crappy station café food – full of MSG and sugar.” 

The smiling face of Namjoon’s soon-to-be wife enters Jimin’s vision at the mention of her name. The two had recently moved in together and there were days when Jimin felt envious when hearing about Namjoon brag about his fiancée’s skills in the kitchen. 

“Thanks,” Jimin says. 

“I’m not slacking on the job by the way,” Namjoon says.

“You’re not? I don’t recall seeing you in the office for the past couple of days.” 

“I got called into a meeting with the board of directors. They wanted an update on this Angel Killer.” 

“Angel Killer, huh? Quite original.” 

“Not my call on what we name the perps.” 

A lull in the conversation comes to as Jimin caves into the meal set before him. 

“Not a spinach and green bean casserole, I see,” Jimin jokes. 

Namjoon laughs. Starting from a few weeks before, Youngji had gone into a fascination in preparing green foods. The entire floor soon came to understand that Namjoon would be eating the same casserole for his next few meals. 

“I convinced her out of it,” Namjoon says with a grin, “Told her that she already spoils me with all her other cooking.” 

Jimin chuckles along with Namjoon. He digs his fork into the meal before him. The taste of food that did not come from a can is such a welcome sensation to his body he can’t help but sigh.

“Youngji’s a fantastic cook.” 

“One of the best.” 

“Well, here’s to you forever gaining weight.”

Namjoon comically nods and rubs his belly. 

“Well, Y/N’s a pretty good cook too. The pasta looked delicious the other day.”

At the mention of your name, Jimin falls quiet. 

“You know, I understand you better than you think. That look you have, Jimin. I can see that the case isn’t the only reason you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy and inside the station. We all saw Y/N leaving the station the other day.” 

“I guess that also means you all saw how upset I made her.” 

Namjoon takes an inhale followed by a slow exhale. “Stop me if I’m prying too much, but what happened?” 

Jimin takes an even deeper sigh. “She found out that I’m still looking into Baekhyun’s cases after all these years.” 

“Ah,” was Namjoon’s simple response. 

“I mean, I’m not doing anything wrong, am I? The reason I’ve never given up on finding the truth is to find some closure for myself. For her… For the both of us.” 

Jimin means the words he says, but when he hears them from his own mouth, it feels strange. 

“Well… what if closure for you doesn’t have the same definition for her?” 

Namjoon’s comment make Jimin tilt his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

Namjoon stretches out his legs in front of him. The park has quieted down as most of its visitors have returned to work after their lunch break. Only a couple of people still remain, but they are scattered so far around the park that none of their faces could be made out. 

“Closure for Park Jimin means to discover the truth. Closure for Y/N might be simply to accept that her fiancé’s gone. She was in so much pain when he disappeared and it took her forever to even leave the house. Her first steps out were because of you. The reason she has the strength to move on today is because you’ve constantly been by her side. Maybe the reason she’s been able to accept that Baekhyun’s no longer with her is because she sees that you’ve accepted it as well.” 

“She saw the files that indicate that perhaps Baekhyun was murdered.” 

Namjoon’s next sentence becomes lodged in his throat. He closes his mouth then opens it again but only to have it return to its previous state. At last when he finally finds what he wants, he says, “That complicates things, doesn’t it?” 

Jimin closes the food container and returns it back into the bag. In the time they had been talking, he found that he had lost his appetite. His two thumbs press against the sides of his temple and gently massage it in circles. 

Everybody knows how much Jimin cares for you; some even think that the extent of it is due to Jimin’s secret crush on you. But Namjoon knows the reason why. He can’t help but look at his colleague and friend with sadness. An ancient promise that causes anguish to those in its pact. 

Placing a warm hand on Jimin’s back, Namjoon leaves it there for comfort. “Is that what you believe? That Baekhyun is gone because he was murdered?” 

Jimin shakes his head. As if the thoughts in his brain could not get any more complicated, the simple question makes things worse. “I don’t know, Namjoon. I have absolutely no idea. I’ve been working this case for years now, but everything always comes up to a dead end. A part of me wants to believe that Baekhyun simply decided to walk out of his old life to start a new one and he’s alive somewhere out there. Yet another part, the detective part, can’t ignore the knowledge that maybe something bad did happen to him that night. That’s why he never returned.” 

“Did you uncover anything new?” 

“No. Not for that case.” 

Namjoon doesn’t say a word. He can sense something else in Jimin’s tone. He is unable to tell if Jimin says what is on his mind as the conversation is redirected. 

“What did the directors say about Sara Michel’s case? I’m assuming that’s why you went to meet with them.” 

This time it is Namjoon’s turn to furrow his brows. Namjoon had never truly wanted to become Lieutenant. Jimin knew that Namjoon had been offered the position because he first had turned down the offer. Namjoon never expressed any bitterness about it; no, instead he had said he had been thankful. Namjoon had always said how he wanted to become Lieutenant before asking Youngji’s hand in marriage. When they spoke, the only frustration Namjoon ever expressed was the unexpected amount of responsibilities that came with this new position.  

“They want to know if we have any new leads. As they say, if we don’t have anything by 24 hours, the case is as good as gone. If there really isn’t anything then they want us to wrap it up. File it as another unsolved case and focus on the new big project: the whole deal we’ve been working over at with the Narcotics Team.” 

“The drug related gang suicides, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“We can send a couple of guys over.”

“That’s the thing though. The Board doesn’t want a few guys. They want the entire team on board. Agent Hoseok’s barely keeping above the waves with this one. HR is breathing down his neck as apparently, some well-known powerful figure’s gone missing because of this.” 

“Guilty?” 

“Likely, but since he’s clearly an influential guy, the Missing Person’s unit might be dragged into it as well. His lawyers have also been stalking out at the station in case anything does come up. It’s going to set the whole station into turmoil.” 

Politics. Jimin hated it all. If someone was guilty, he believed that they should see the justice they deserved. 

“So what should I say to them?” 

“Huh?” 

“The Board. You’re the one who’s worked the Sara Michel case the most. What should I tell them about our progress so far?” 

Jimin bit the inside of his cheek. Progress… Did he have that? Perhaps, but at the end: speculations. That is what they are. He couldn’t take the chance. “Tell them we may have something. Try and deter them from trashing this case. Be ambiguous.” 

Namjoon waits to see if Jimin would further elaborate but the other doesn’t speak again. 

“Alright,” Namjoon says, “But you will keep me updated on whatever you find, right?” 

Jimin nods. 

Namjoon knows that the conversation is over so he stands. Stretching, he rolls his neck once and then follows it similarly with his shoulders. “I’m going to head back to the station. Go home. Get some rest.” 

“None of you want me at the station, huh? I stink it up too much?” 

This earns him a grin from Namjoon. “You’re the brightest mind we have on the team, Jimin. But right now it’s shutting down right in front of my eyes. Recharge it and return when you’re ready.” 

Jimin nods again and lifts a head to say goodbye. Then, he is left to his own thoughts once again.

...

She runs. Fast.

He looks down at the three words. They are the only things that fill his laptop screen after he hits enter. Writer’s block: something he didn’t quite enjoy. That was why he liked to move around so much when he writes. That, plus the fact that he can see his subject clearly. 

The girl is thin and wiry but the definition of hard deltoid muscles are outlined by the afternoon sun. He enjoys a challenge and she might be one. 

Dane observes her like the hunter might to his prey. He notes down everything - from the pathway she takes to the speed of her jogging. Everything is important. 

What a contrast she would serve compared to pretty Ms. Michel. Now, where should he display her this time?

Everything must be chosen so that it meets perfection. She is a prancing antelope that dances unknowingly for the lion. Man is an animal after all. We all belong in the Wilderness.

His eyes look up from his script and watches as the girl stretches once she reaches the bench. She is bent over to catch her breath and she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. A small device is wrapped around her arm and she touches it to presumably change the song. Her black and blue leggings contrast with her lighter skin. Once she has rested enough, she jogs a couple of times in place before going forward and then turning the corner out of his sight. 

So pretty and elegant. He wants to wrap his arms around her, and feel her pulse between his fingers. He wants to make her into his next angel. 

Dane is patient. He is willing to wait until the right opportunity. He will see to it. Unwritten.

This is the third time at the park, but each day that he has arrived, she is also there. He did not need to be a rocket scientist to know that this must be her daily route. Soon, he will be able to continue on his story.

...

Jimin could not understand why, but after that day with Namjoon at the park, he found himself returning to it quite often. He would make excuses to grab a coffee, but would then find himself wandering back to the bench. He enjoyed the quietness the small area offered. It allowed him to gather his thoughts in peace before returning to the hectic environment of the station. 

After allocating time spent of sitting silently under the warmth of the sun, Jimin finally stands. The park is much quieter now as the remaining people have also left. He gathers the brown bag with leftovers from the local bistro and starts stretching his legs. From the corner of his eye, he notices that somebody is running. 

There is not enough time for him to get out of her way and she crashes into him the moment she turns the corner. The impact is not great and she merely stumbles back in shock. 

“I’m so sorry,” he bows in apology. 

She is out of breath but she shakes her head and bows as well. “No, it’s my fault! I’m sorry I didn’t see you!” 

He waves it away and they share another awkward laugh before the girl in the black and blue leggings smiles and continues on her route. 

Bending to pick up the brown bag he has dropped on impact, somebody else captures his attention. That person is someone he cannot seem to forget and even this slightest sight of him causes Jimin to scowl. 

He is able to recognize that jacket from anywhere – that grey jacket this man wore the day he walked into the police station. He is currently sitting on a bench nearly halfway across the park. Jimin shouldn’t have been able make out any facial features at his distance, but he swears that the man’s eye follow a runner down the path.  

The other man seems engrossed with something on his laptop. His eyes never seem to leave the screen and Jimin is unable to tell whether Jungkook is typing or whether he is watching some type of video. Regardless of what he is doing, Jimin has already decided that it is not good. 

About to walk up to him, Jimin suddenly stops in the midst. It is not because somebody else has bumped into him or that he is caught up in another thought. 

No. 

It is because he recognizes the second figure that appears from behind the first.

...

The previous writer’s block disappears as fast as it had appeared. His fingers are now flying across the keyboard as he continues to write the perfect plan. In fact, he is so captivated by the growing paragraphs that he does not notice when another figure appears from behind. 

“What are you doing?” your voice startles him. 

He whirls around and snaps his notebook shut. You stand behind with a slightly surprised expression on your face. He is able to tell because your large eyes are wider than usual, and your mouth makes a small “o”. 

Time had flown by so quickly that he had forgotten he was supposed to meet you at 1:00pm. Quickly checking his watch, he sees that the time is 12:50pm. 

“You’re here early,” he notes. Scooting over, he then pats the seat next to him. You timidly follow his instructions and sit down beside him. The scarf you wear loosens as the wind blows and you fix it once. 

“I was just in the area. Do you like croissants? I bypassed a popular bistro on the way here and bought us some.” You hand him the small box. “I know croissants are unexpected from a place like that, but I can promise you – they’re really good!”

Jungkook peeks in the box. Packaged in rows, there is a set of treats in chocolate, strawberry cream cheese and plain. 

“Sets of three,” Jungkook mumbles. 

You look up at him. “Sorry?” 

He gives you a small laugh, yet minute as it is, it still makes your heart tumble. “A set of three. I like working in sets of three,” he tells you. Jungkook opts for the original.

You wait until he takes a bite before a smile breaks across you face. “Good, huh?” 

He nods, crumbs falling onto his laptop. He brushes them away before they can dirty it further.

“What did you want to meet me for?” he asks you. 

From the strangely shaped bag you had brought with you, you take out a wooden stand and a large piece of rolled paper. He watches as you set up you easel and clips the paper to the side. It is blank. 

“I come here often to paint,” you explain as you take out another small bag that is filled with sketching tools, “I think it’s so beautiful here.” You don’t add that you had chosen this place because when Baekhyun first disappeared, this was the closest you could be to Jimin without actually bothering him at the station. 

“So you called me here to watch you paint?” 

“Sketch, actually. Today I’m here to sketch but in a couple of days I should be able to paint.” 

Jungkook leans back in his seat. He sees that a new light has taken over your eyes as you take everything from the park into memory. Your pencil twirls in your fingers. Another small gust of wind blows the scarf away from your neck. 

Over their time together, they had become so used to being in each other’s presence that you no longer shy away from him. There were moments when you would be reminded of the first night he stayed at your house, but believe you are not one to dwell in the past so you quickly forget it. At this moment, he is drawing the collar of your jacket up and fixing your scarf so that it would no longer loosen. 

While he is helping you, you continue to talk, “You know, ever since I saw you, a feeling has been itching at me. I kept thinking that before bumping into you at the station, I had seen you before! Now I know. You were the guy who thought I was a street artist!”

Jungkook’s fingers falter as he sets them back on his lap. He does not move. What was it you had just said?

“I was at the square near my studio that evening. It was particularly nice. I remember a small ensemble playing classical music too. You had been the one to knock over my canvas.” 

No. It was not him. 

“Wait. It wasn’t you. It was the lady you were with!” When you remember, you gasps. 

Jungkook turns when he hears you. There was not supposed to be a single person that could have remembered him with Sara that night. That was never part of the plan. When he turns his focus on you, there is a look of shock and realization. A fire begins to burn in his stomach. 

You hold your hand to your mouth. You can see that Jungkook is staring at you and the guilt eats away inside. You should have seen it coming. He was a handsome, intelligent and skilled man. He had showed up out of nowhere. He was also a stranger to the city. The two of you had met outside the station. Of course he could not be here simply because of work. 

He must have been here with his girlfriend. 

And they had bumped into you that night on their date. 

“Y/N, what is it?” Jungkook asks gently. 

You sets the pencil down on the easel. “That woman you were with… That’s your girlfriend, wasn’t it? Oh my god… if she were to know that you’re staying with me right now. She would probably think that I’m some girl who is trying to steal her boyfriend.” 

Your face only reddens more when Jungkook’s laughter echoes around the park. It lasts for quite a while and you do not know whether you are feeling humiliated or angry at him laughing at you. 

He catches his breath and smiles widely at you. “That wasn’t my girlfriend. She was someone I was meeting for the night.” 

“For a date?”

“No. For work.” 

You do not know why, but you breathe a sigh of relief. “Well, I also remember you liking my painting. Do you remember?” 

He gives you another smile. “Sorry, Y/N. I don’t.” 

Disappointment makes your chest ache. Never good at hiding your emotions, it makes him smile again when he sees the obvious frown. He places a hand over yours. “I’d still love a painting though, if that’s what you’re offering this time.” It is infectious, that is what his smile is. You take you hand away from beneath his and regard the quiet scenic park again. “Do you like this place? Should I paint something for you here?” 

He nods. “I’ll like anything you paint for me, Y/N.” 

You blush at the way he says it so matter-of-factly. Looking up, you scan the surroundings once again before a large shadow rushes towards you and grabs your wrist. 

You are hauled up to your feet roughly.

...

Seeing you so casually walking up to that man made him mad. But it wasn’t that which made him practically race across the park. No, it was the combination of him fixing your scarf, laughing with you and then taking your hand. He cannot allow such a thing to happen. 

“Jimin!” you yelp, the pain cutting through your wrist. It burns and you feel as if somebody had dug a knife into your skin to split your bones. 

Jimin has momentarily forgotten your disorder as he is blinded my rage. How dare Jungkook be sitting beside you like the two of you are friends? This man may be involved in a murder case. He may as well be the only suspect. 

“What are you doing here with him?” Jimin demands. 

You can barely get the words out – that is how tight Jimin is gripping your wrist and hurting you. 

Jungkook is still seated, but upon seeing your face turning bright red and perspiration beading your forehead, he stands. “Detective Park, I believe you are hurting Y/N.” 

His words are a cold splash of water on Jimin. He quickly releases you and you whimper while holding your wrist. He reaches towards you, but you draw back, closer to Jungkook. 

“I’m so sorry,” his apology is gushes, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” 

You rub your wrist. You know it is not broken, but the pain lingers still. You gingerly rotate it before shaking your head. “I’m fine. You took me by surprise though.” 

Seeing the discomfort in your eyes, Jimin instantly feels guilty. The first time he sees you after the fight and he manages to hurt you again. “What are you doing here?” he asks again. He wants to add “with him” but he did not think it was appropriate. 

“I was meeting Jungkook. I wanted to do some sketches for a painting.”

He hated your causal use of the name. He hated it with such a passion. 

“Detective Park, it’s been a while,” Jungkook extends a hand. 

Jimin clenches his jaw but grabs it and shakes it forcefully. “Mr. Jeon,” he says through his teeth. 

You can detect the hostility between the two men. You knew Jimin didn’t like Jungkook but you couldn’t see his reason why. Jungkook had only ever been nice to you. Really, Jungkook was one of the nicest people you know. 

“Why did you need to meet him to do sketches? I didn’t even know the two of you knew each other,” Jimin begins interrogating. 

You falter. You had been so caught up in the previous few days you had forgotten to tell him your new housemate. Truth be told, the whole situation is so unusual for the two of you because you would talk to each other nearly every day. 

“I’m temporarily living with her,” Jungkook says, unable to resist the temptation. He has already calculated and anticipated the change that would occur over Jimin’s face once he says those words. He knows that it would affect you more, but there is a type of satisfaction in seeing the rage that spreads over Jimin’s face.

It takes everything in his already weak power to hold his emotions in. Heat is already flowing to his face in which he could not control, but he could still stop the explosion of curses from leaving his mouth. 

Your mouth is opened ajar once again. All the worse scenarios are running through your head. 

Jungkook sheepishly rubs his neck. “Oh, this is awkward. I thought you had told him, Y/N. You two seemed so close.” 

Oh yes. It is absolutely delightful in seeing the impact of his words on Detective Park Jimin. 

“I – ” you start, “I didn’t get the chance to yet. Um, well… Jimin…. Jungkook is staying at my place for now. He has no other – ”

“We need to talk,” Jimin interrupts you. 

You open your mouth and close it again. “Okay,” you say timidly. You start to walk towards him. 

“Grab your things with you,” Jimin says sternly. 

You want to refute his words but there is a sort of silent anger you recognize. You send Jungkook an apologetic look before packing away your easel and paper. Jimin waits for you and you quickly whisper, “I’m sorry,” before going away. 

The two walk away like a father leading his disobedient daughter. Jungkook can only watch with amusement at the new turn of events.

...

“You’re living with him? You’re living with him? You’re living with him?!” You hear Jimin repeat the series of questions again. Your finger lightly taps your thigh and you note to yourself: the sixth time. That was the sixth time he asked the same question.

Jimin had thought for a long time on their walk to the station of what he could say. Countless words had been flying through his mind however he just couldn’t seem to find the correct ones to string together. That had led him to only repeat the one fact he is being faced with: You are living with Jungkook. 

You sigh. “Yes, Jimin, I’m living with him.” 

“How could you decide to do that without talking to me about it?” he explodes at last, “You barely know this guy and you invite him into your house? He’s a criminal. He’s a murderer.”

This makes you frown. Your eyebrows crease together and even your pretty face cannot hide the ugliness of your anger. “Park Jimin,” you start sternly with his name, “I don’t think it’s fair for you to make that assumption. I don’t even think you should be making that assumption.” 

“Still, the two of you are living together!”

You sigh again.

Jimin stops in the middle his pacing for a second to collect his thoughts. “Fine. But what makes you think you know him enough to decide whether or not my assumption is fair?” 

“Well, what makes you think you have enough power over me to stop who I’m living with?”

“I have a responsibility for you, Y/N! I don’t want you to get hurt. Jeon Jungkook is dangerous!”

“There you go again! Making another assumption! Why are you even saying this?”

“You know exactly why. It’s because – ”

“If you say that it’s because of your gut feeling I’m going to walk away right now.” 

He pauses. “I just know, alright? I have evidence against him.” 

“Show it to me, then.” 

Presently, the two of you are arguing inside Jimin’s office. The blinds have been drawn, but the glass door is definitely not enough to hide the increasing voices. Jimin rummages through the multitude of papers and files on his desk. His thoughts are once again jumbled. He is unable to think straight at the moment and it makes him forget where he has put the files in the first place. 

“You don’t have it, do you?” you accuse, “You just hate him. I don’t know what your reason is, but that’s mean. Jungkook is a good person. He takes care of me.” 

Your tone is filled with exasperation. You did not enjoy when things did not go your way. Neither did he. That is the reason why the two of you tend to avoid conflicts by not being involved in each other’s personal matters. This time, however, Jimin needs his stance to be known. 

“You’ve known this guy for what, two weeks? What do you mean ‘he takes care of you’? He barely even knows anything about you.” 

You do not bother to correct Jimin that it has in fact been less than that. “He’s taken care of me more than you have alright?” you stab him with the words. Your face flushes the moment they leave your mouth.

Jimin’s next words are so calm, they border on hostility. “More than I have, you say? Please, enlighten me.” 

“He… He supports me. He’s there for me when I need him. He’s… He’s…” With each stutter, you can feel yourself losing this fight. Pride and rage cloud your judgment, and nonetheless, you throw out your last attack, “He doesn’t try to convince me that my fiancée was murdered.” 

His eyes become hard. 

There are tears wavering in you eyes and you tell yourself not to blink such that they would not fall. “You tell me to try and move on after Baekhyun’s disappearance.  You tell me that it’s for my own good; all this pain and guilt and frustration at losing him… You’re just as guilty, Jimin. You’ve never put Baekhyun behind you and now you’re saying something as ludicrous as him being murdered. I won’t accept it.” 

He hates seeing you cry. He hates it so much. He hates it enough to contemplate easing up on your decision to live with this stranger.

No. 

Walking away from you, he digs through his jacket pocket and produces an extra set of keys. He had learned to carry this around with him since knowing you. He never knew when you needed to come by and borrow his house keys. 

“Take this,” he places the keys into you palm and curls your fingers around them, “When you’re done with this tantrum… or whatever this is, come home. I understand that Jeon Jungkook needs a place to live, so rent out your place to him. But I cannot have you staying alone with him. You are to live with me while he is an occupant there.” 

You scoff at him, incredulously. You grip the keys in your hand before slamming them soundly on his desk. 

“I am not a child,” you solemnly say, “You cannot control me like this. I am a free to make my own decisions, and I will do what I want.”

With that, you spin on your heels to exit the office. Your pulse is racing as you turn to face him again. You avoid looking directly at him but stare above past his forehead. You are afraid that if you see his expression, you would falter. 

“I respect your decision to not like Jungkook. But if that’s the case, and as Jungkook is living with me, you are free to never come by my place. We will not welcome a guest who only has the intent of unsound accusation.” 

You end the argument with that and stomps out the door.

...

Jungkook is waiting for you outside the station as you leave. You are so blinded by your emotions you nearly miss him until he grabs your wrist and causes you to yelp. 

Immediately, he retracts his hand. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 

You still want to yell at somebody, but Jimin’s injustice towards Jungkook stops you from screaming. You rub you wrist that is still sore from being grabbed previously. Adjusting the strap of your canvas on your back, you continue to walk forward.

“He’s so unfair,” you whisper.

Jungkook catches it. 

“Nobody ever asked him to look out for me. I would have been fine,” you say. 

“He cares for you,” Jungkook says gently. 

You do not want to hear the words. Still, it is not like you can ignore them once they’re heard. 

“He is worried. I am a stranger, and a man. Unfortunately, society has a stigma around single strange men who sneak up to a female to offer his phone while it is pouring rain in the middle of the night.” He tries to make a joke with you. Thankfully, it works as you lightly laugh. 

“Well, still. Jimin is being stubborn. He has prejudices against you; ones that have no basis.” 

“Let me guess. He thinks I’m dangerous. He thinks I might hurt you. With my involvement in his case, he might even think that I’m a suspect.” 

You do not want to answer. 

Jungkook stops you from walking. Your strides have been short but only increasing in speed. He is no longer sure if you even know where they are walking. With one hand still on your shoulder, he says with a soft voice, “He has every right to think so, Y/N. We have only started to get to know each other We both have secrets that we have yet to reveal to each other. Perhaps I am dangerous. Perhaps I may have the intent to hurt you.”

You look into his eyes which steadily hold you own. “But you won’t, right?” 

He smiles at you. “Of course not.” 

“Then that’s all that matters,” you say with resolution, “That’s what a relationship is built on. The slow accumulation of trust towards the other party. I don’t care if you have secrets, Jungkook. If you ever do want to share them, I will listen. But at the end, you don’t have to. I want to know you as you.”

He nods. Now with the rollercoaster of emotions within you coming to an end, you are able to see that the weather is beautiful that day. There is the soft melodious chirping of birds from all around you, and the streets are not busy as people have yet to be off work. A warm patch of heat is on your back as the sun greets you between the clouds.

Jungkook is quiet beside you for a while, until he says out of the blue, “Jimin really loves you.”

You whirl to regard him. “Jimin doesn’t love me. He is only tasked to look after me.”

His eyes soften when he looks at you again. He doesn’t follow up with anything, only turning his head back forward.

The speed of your heart’s beating rises slightly at his comment. You do not understand the purpose of him saying that. You do not understand what led to him to say such a thing.

“Jungkook,” you call out.

“Mhmm?”

“I still want to paint a picture for you. But I don’t think I can right now.”

“What do you mean?”

You had stopped walking beside him. He notices that and stops as well. When he finally turns to look at why you had stopped, he is greeted with the image of you standing with your wrist in the air. He sighs in concern and takes your wrist gently.

“Alright, let’s get you home,” he says kindly.

...

next part 

[lazaefair]

Sequence of events the way I perceived/remember them. I’m doing my best to be as honest as possible and to minimize self-defensiveness, but I’m only human. Trying anyway:

I join All & More.

Within the first few days, I either bring up something about fandom racism, or challenge something someone said that I felt played into cultural biases regarding Marwan/Joe and the conversation turns to fandom racism. I don’t remember which happened first.

Either way, over the next weeks, between other conversations I get into several arguments/discussions about fandom racism with a few different people, including goldheartedsky. One person blocks me, which is how I learn about Discord blocking, and I block them back.

Goldheartedsky in particular keeps making remarks that show a clear bias against Joe/Marwan on the same spectrum as the biases that other Top Joe Stans have demonstrated in the previous months. She’s by no means the only one, as there is a mix of Top Joe Stans, neutral (I thought at the time) parties, and then me and Ven. But goldheartedsky and I get into it a few times with varying degrees of civility. She demonstrates that she relies heavily on strawman fallacies, red herrings, disingenuous mischaracterizations, and outright lying as tactics.

At some point I realize that she has blocked me (I can’t tag her or add reactions to her posts) so I block her back, as everything she had been posting had been upsetting me anyway.

After that, I started blocking people who got to roughly the same threshold as she did - attempting to preserve my fandom experience and give my stress levels a break.

By the time the conversation in question happens, I’ve blocked a handful of people, and basically just ignore the “blocked messages” bars that replace their posts and act like they’re not there. This is what happens during The Conversation - there is at least one blocked person, maybe more, but I don’t know because they are blocked and all Discord shows you is “3 blocked messages” or however many messages have been replaced.

I also unfortunately was lackadaisical about tagging the people I was actually responding to, which would have muddied the flow of the conversation for anyone else who didn’t have the exact same people blocked that I did.

I never clicked on the “blocked messages” bars, the channel has since been deleted, and I haven’t looked at the screenshots being spread around, so I still have no idea what any of the blocked people said in that conversation.

As for the substance of the conversation - this isn’t an excuse for myself, but I was talking about the ethics of the presented issue the way I usually talk in ethics discussions, like a puzzle to be solved. I realize now that I should have...not done that. To the people I was actually talking to, I am genuinely sorry for the pain I caused by not being empathetic enough to the human/emotional side of the issue.

Some hours after the conversation peters out, a person I hadn’t blocked - but who was in the same loose friend group as the people I had blocked - comes into the channel and says that what I had said wasn’t appropriate.

I reach out to Ven to get a second opinion about it. She agrees, which is when I realize I fucked up.

While I am talking to Ven, one of the not-blocked people whom I’d actually been responding to in the conversation - who is Jewish - comes back in and basically clarifies what I’d intended to say on my behalf. (I did not ask them to do this, and I am grateful to them for doing it.)

Edit: I am aware that this person has just publicly disavowed their defense of me. I’m leaving in what I originally wrote, since I’m laying out the sequence of events and their post was part of the reason why I handled the situation the way I did at the time.

Ven advises me, and I agree, to leave it there, because this person has kindly already said what I would have said - and also because I reckoned that nothing I could have said would have actually satisfied the person who called me out, as they’d demonstrated consistent hostility toward me in all our interactions prior to this.

So I leave it there, the channel moves on, and I figure that’s that.

Fandom racism conversations continue, with multiple arguments happening in which the contingent of Top Joe Stans, including goldheartedsky, continue to deliberately use rude, insulting language and various fallacies in response to my and others’ requests to reconsider contributing to racist tropes about Marwan/Joe. In an argument about the content gap between types of stories and art produced between Joe and Nicky, one of them says outright that there is no content gap, citing the survey done by tog-resources in July.

I’d already been considering conducting a full survey of Joe/Nicky fic, but this spurs me on to actually do it. Ven and I start surveying, and publish our results in late February.

I won’t rehash that entire round of discourse here, but this is when the screenshots from A&M first appear and various people receive anons accusing me of being a TERF and antisemitic, etc. One of the anons contains enough circumstantial information for me to figure out that goldheartedsky is behind it, or at least part of it. This is my first indication that goldheartedsky was one of the blocked people in that conversation.

I decide to stay silent about the accusations because that seems like the high road to take, and because it feels like addressing them at all would lend credence to them.

The people throwing accusations around had either blocked me, or I had blocked them, so any words that I said about them wouldn’t have been taken in good faith anyway, especially after it got to bakedapplesauce.

Bakedapplesauce, who blocked me after receiving one of the longer anons, never contacted me to get my side of the story.

A while later, a third party contacts me to try to bring me and goldheartedsky together in a conversation to clear the air. I didn’t initiate this, but agreed to do it only if the third party acts as a go-between, 1) partly because I had just started a new job and was busy IRL so I didn’t think I could manage a conversation in real-time, but primarily 2) because then if screenshots of the conversation ever appeared in public, there could be no question as to who had done it. Goldheartedsky refuses this precaution, so I call it off.

So, that’s my side of the story. I don’t have screenshots because screenshots can be altered and taken out of context, and also because I just don’t do that shit. I regret that it’s gotten to this point, but since the February round of discourse, it always felt like there was no way for me to address the accusations without coming off as defensive or dismissive.

Also, until this round of discourse in June, no one had approached me about it in sincere concern. I’m only writing this post at all because this shit has now been splattered onto other people, including Jewish people who have to watch their generational pain be used as a shield and a derailing tactic to deflect from challenges to malicious, conscious racism. These anons only crop up when fandom tries to address racism, and only using hostile “gotcha” phrasing that makes clear they’re not actually concerned about antisemitism, they’re just trying to deflect. Well, they can try.

That being said, I do acknowledge and recognize that in that particular conversation, I was thoughtlessly callous about something that is gravely painful, and I should have known better. As I’ve said many times before, no one gets to declare by fiat that they’re “not a racist” because that’s not how cultural conditioning or implicit bias works, and it’s the same for antisemitism. I’m sincerely sorry for that and have been trying/will continue to try to do better.