#anyway...... nerds only have a thing for each other. clearly. so they should kiss about it

[clawz-loopz]

It takes a nerd to know one. Which is why they should kiss

[canmom]

like. you know. viewing life by way of performance of this or that category is not exactly a new sentiment. authors have been getting into that one since long before i was born. I've read my share of allegorical stories about masks.

but anyway. last night i went to a munch for the first time, which of you're not familiar is bdsm speak for a social gathering. i had a good time, thanks! kink people are, it turns out, mostly a species of nerd, and if there's a type of person i naturally get on with, it's nerdy trans women. sometimes hot women are very excited to talk about bicycles, and i for one am glad for this. anyway, this is just context.

one thing I have often found a little disconcerting when approaching kink related stuff is that everyone seems to have a very keen idea of how they fit into various boxes. there's quite a lot of boxes fitting all kinds of different scenario and fantasy. and me being a perpetual contrarian, i am often left wondering, why is it like this? why is everyone either a dom or a sub, top or bottom, etc etc? how is everyone so damn sure of it?

i witnessed a conversation which, while it did not directly address any such thing, did feel like it proved enlightening. a girl was being teased for claiming to be a top when she clearly wasn't. she was evidently enjoying it, feigning indignation, just as her interlocutor (forgive me, i can't help using words like interlocutor) was feigning annoyance at her antics, a back and forth that naturally led up to a kiss. it felt to me like i was watching a movie, or studying animation: the gestures and body language, tilt of head or lean forwards, the rhythm of the scene, the acting.

and obviously, or so it seems now, it felt like acting because it was. it was a scene that both 'players' were happy to perform for each other and everyone else at the table. i don't mean that it was scripted, but that they got to express the kind of 'character' they wanted. as a newbie onlooker, i played my role too, which was simply laughing at the appropriate moments.

now (this is the ten in the kishōtenketsu), i have in the past written about roleplaying theory - maybe on here, maybe somewhere else? anyway, i tend to look at it through analogy with two related art forms, which are improv comedy and pro wrestling.

improv - and please forgive me if I make any theory errors here, it's been a hot minute - tells you to 'yes, and': to keep the momentum of the scene going by taking what has been contributed to the fiction so far and adding to it, rather than negating a contribution. it further has the concept of an 'offer': you introduce an idea with some potential and hand it off to the other person to iterate on.

wrestling is a kind of athletic improv show, and it has its own forest of complicated jargon, which i know a fair bit about despite not watching wrestling. one of them is to 'sell': when a wrestler performs an attack, the other wrestler's job is to act like they've been hit, by flinching, staggering, etc. then there is the 'gimmick' - the idea of the wrestler's character, which must also be sold with the help of their partner, e.g. by commenting on it, or having some emotional reaction. the aim is to 'get over' by having the audience buy in and respond appropriately (e.g. cheering or booing).

both of these constructs are applicable to roleplaying games - both TTRPGs and informal MMO roleplaying. when you are playing a character, you have a character concept you want to 'get over' to the other characters. as a player in a roleplaying game, you also have the job of helping the other players to convey their character. how do you do this? by reacting to stuff (in character, but also out), and weaving it into the story so that it affects other things. nothing is 'real' in an RPG until it's acknowledged by someone else. in TTRPGs, that someone else tends to be the GM, but it can and should also be the other player characters. very few game texts actually spell this out, with the only exception I can think of being Chuubo's which actually formalises a bit.

how do you go about doing this in practice? that's where the improv principles come in. some RPGs, like Fiasco, have an explicit scene framing mechanic, where a player is given narrative authority to set up an interaction. this is, in improv terms, the offer. but even without such a mechanic explicitly being in the rules, you have the opportunity to create setups and follow through on them by adding something new, fitting the bounds of the scene. you're not aiming for comedy most of the time, but you're still fundamentally playing 'yes, and'.

ok, so. every conversation is kind of the same, right? here is my autistic-ass metaphor: it's a game, you have a role to play, you're trying to get over your 'character' for this interaction, and facilitating other people in getting over theirs. the more you interact with a person, the more you get a sense of the dynamic you tend to play. when you meet someone or indeed start a new conversation you're making offers: here's a thing i could talk with you about, which is to say, a role to play for this interaction. when you say something, you try to leave an opening to respond, or provide a natural branch point to change topic. just as your character in a roleplaying game (or for that matter a novel) gets more substantial and multi-dimensional the more situations you put them in, the more you interact with someone the more complex a role you can play with them. (something something Shannon entropy)

crucially roleplaying doesn't require predictability. there are always multiple ways to take something forwards, depending what specifically you 'yes and' or 'no but' with.

ok, but then, returning to the beginning (it's ketsu time!), all these roles - well, why does D&D have classes, Apocalypse World have playbooks, Fiasco its tables of archetypes? well, they're prompts - simple stories that can help you get past the blank page problem, and inject certain ideas into the story when needed. playing a class in a game doesn't say anything in particular about 'who you are', any more than who you play in a fighting game. if you find you like playing certain characters or classes more than others, you might end up with a 'main', but that's only something you figure out by trying it, and it's not some kind of eternal commitment.

by the same token... well, it pretty much writes itself from here, right?

I've probably just reinvented judith butler but nerdier, but hey, the autism. anyway I'm already doing this plenty - by various word choices, by repeatedly telling you I'm autistic and whathaveyou (i didn't always do that), I'm pretty much setting up some gimmicks right here in this post. and every post on this blog. the people who are really good at posting, and equally socialising, seem to do this kind of effortlessly! but i think the evidence seems to be it can be learned. I can try out different builds. if it doesn't work, well, gg, I'll learn from it for next time - and if it's not fun... well, i don't need to play that class again. that's all this big intimidating sexuality thing actually is.

it was literally that simple! i had all the blocks already i just had to put them together! maddening

everything is roleplaying, except roleplaying, which is improv. it's all so obvious when you put it that way...

[sapphosclosefriend]

- Expect the unexpected | P3 -

Pairing: Nerd! Natasha Romanoff x Popular! Fem! Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Summary: prom is approaching and surprises will occur (P1) (P2)

Word count: 2256

Warnings: bottom! Reader, top! Natasha Romanoff, jealousy from both r and nat, making out, SMUT, fingering (r receiving), clit stimulation (r receiving), slight overstimulation (r receiving), school smex, wanda being kind of a menace.

A/N: this story contains smut so if you're not 18+ DNI. I was finally able to finish this chapter, I don't know why I struggled so much with this (also, I'm apparently only able to write smut at the end of a fic wtf). Anyways, I already have a general outline of chapter 4 in mind but if any of you have some ideas I'd love to hear them! As always, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated!! Enjoy <3

Masterlist

Nat has been tutoring you for the past month and, despite you spending more and more time making out and touching each other instead of actually studying, you can now officially say that you’ve successfully reached the end of the school year with pretty good grades in maths and physics, even higher than what you thought you would be able to achieve. Nat truly is a saviour, she should actually become a teacher of some sort.

With you not being in need of a tutor anymore, your meetings have gone from (not so) purely academic to a mere way to see the other as much as possible, with many hookups, mainly in Nat’s car, where you currently are, going to school with her after spending the night at her house.

People have noticed you and Nat spending more and more time together, talking in the hallways, often sitting next to each other or leaving school together. You are very aware of the rumours of you two being an actual thing and, to be honest, thinking about Nat as your girlfriend actually makes you feel little butterflies in your stomach, flying with more excitement every time you look at her and she gives you her adorable little smile. She’s probably just enjoying your activities together, though, she’s just shy because of the little experience she has.

As you get out of Nat’s car and start walking inside next to her, you notice the subtle glances thrown at the two of you by the other students outside of school, only intensifying as you walk through the hallways headed to class.

To be completely honest, despite being nothing like most of these people, Nat can’t avoid the feeling of pride that comes with knowing that, even if just for a brief period of time and even if not romantically yet, you are hers and she is yours. You feel the same when you remember that you are one of the only people that the tall redhead, who is basically the biggest genius of the school, has ever opened herself to.

With rumours about you two spreading, the number of girls crushing over your smart companion only increased, leaving you a fuming mess anytime some would try to catch Nat’s eye, like in this moment. As you walk through the corridor next to each other, you can clearly notice the two stupid girls from your class smirking at Nat and biting their lips while lowering their gazes with fake shyness, making you feel that rage bursting inside of you, as you see them lightly waving their hands at her. You don’t even notice it when you suddenly reach for Nat’s hand and intertwine your fingers to steadily hold her hand in yours, not seeing how much calmer she gets when you unknowingly give her a source of steadiness in this sea of change. You only spot your hands connecting when it is time for you two to part and for you to leave Nat’s side to get in class. Right before you are able to get in the classroom, still feeling that burning anger deep inside, in a burst of boldness Nat swiftly turns you around and pulls you in to kiss you with so much passion that you can simply forget about everything else, from the girls thirsting over her, to the people in the hallway looking at you two kissing on full display. It is only when the bell rings that you remember where you are and realise that Nat just kissed you, she kissed you in front of the whole school knowing that she could potentially have a great deal of girls right at her feet. It must mean something, right?

Before you can fully part, Nat reaches for your ass and pulls you in for one last kiss, making you smile as you comply while running your hands through her glorious hair. You unfortunately have to leave, but not before leaving a small peck on her lips as a goodbye. Needless to say, you are feeling much better now, your mood has certainly been lifted a bit!

What you don’t see is the prideful glance that Nat throws at the group of porn-addicted guys who have been trying to get in your pants for the past few months, smirking a little when she sees their blown expressions right as she leaves to get to her first class of the day.

You both obviously spend the whole day only thinking about the events of the morning, with you trying to decipher the meaning behind Nat’s actions, and her analyzing any possible connotation behind your apparently positive reaction. School is almost over, but there’s still an important event taking place in a couple of days, the graduates’ prom. People started to ask you to go with them months and months ago, making sure to shoot their shot as soon as possible and secure their date with you, but without any luck. You weren’t even sure you actually wanted to go, so the least thing you could do was go by yourself, without any concern about a date. But that was another you, the you who didn’t know how much of a good person Natasha Romanoff actually is. Yes, you’ve been thinking about asking her to go to prom together for a good couple of days now, but always delaying it.

After spending every lesson relieving what happened in the hallway you make a final decision: you will ask Nat to go to prom as your date right after your last class, before going back home.

Unbeknownst to you, Nat has gone through the same struggles all day and finally decided to do the same with you.

As you hear the final bell ringing, you are finally free to search for Nat, who you almost immediately find heading in your direction. Before you are able to properly greet each other, though, you hear a familiar voice right behind you, calling for you, so, right as you ask Nat to wait for a second, you turn around and find yourself face to face with none other than the famous student body president, Wanda Maximoff, who shamelessly checks you out with a smirk, before complimenting your look. Noticing her gaze not so subtly stuck on your cleavage, and getting more and more impatient to talk to Nat, you try to get her attention and urge her to get to the point.

“So, would you go as my date? You know, in memory of the good old times together..”

You would be lying if you said that the way she lightly bites her lip and looks at you through hooded eyes doesn’t make you feel anything at all, but you’re aware of it just being a physical attraction that the whole school apparently has for her, given her big charm. You actually wouldn’t mind going with her, it’s not like she’s a douchebag, the thing is, even now, with one of the objectively most beautiful people in school asking you to be their date, your mind only goes back to a specific girl who’s still behind you, anxiously waiting for your answer to Wanda.

“I’m sorry Wanda, I’m very honoured but I already have a date..”

As Wanda lets out a surprised “oh”, knowing that you just spent months rejecting any other candidate because you weren’t interested in anyone in particular, what you don’t see is the equally shocked expression on Nat’s face, who, at first, doesn’t even realise you’re basically dragging her through the hallways to get to your special spot, the unused janitor’s closet in the gym.

As soon as you enter the small space and close the door, you push Nat against the wall to desperately attach your lips to hers, needing to feel her right then and there. She pleasantly surprises you when all of a sudden she turns you two around to pin you to the wall and kiss you with more fervour, making your head spin at the feeling of her body pressed against your own after spending the whole day thinking about her. You whine and try to follow her lips when she suddenly pulls back and breaks the kiss to just look at you with a small hint of worry in her eyes. After you ask her if she’s alright, she takes a deep breath and finally asks you the question that’s been plaguing her mind

“You already have a date?”

As your brain is able to function properly once again you realise that the time has finally come

“Not really, but I was planning on asking my date to prom today”

You see so many different emotions go through her expression in one second and, as she settles on what could look like boldness, you can’t help but smile at her next words

“Oh, ok…cause I was gonna ask you to go to prom today..”

“Good, I was gonna ask you to go to prom today as well”

The way you say it so casually makes her brain fully short circuit

“Natasha, would you like to go to prom with me, as my date?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her looking more shocked than right now, with her mouth hanging open and wide eyes, not even the first time you successfully solved a physics exercise without any help. She’s only able to murmur a small “yes”, before you cup her cheeks and softly peck her lips to pull her out of her trance, successfully doing so when she abruptly pulls away with furrowed eyebrows to now exclaim it

“Yes!”

You once again feel those butterflies in your stomach getting more and more excited as Nat starts kissing you and mumbling small yeses from time to time, making you smile at her reaction and wrap your arms around her neck.

You soon sense the mood shifting, as you feel her hands grabbing your hips a bit more roughly, making you moan out loud at the way she then starts kissing down your neck, surely leaving some noticeable marks behind.

“Nat, please, I need you now, please touch me!”

The desperation you feel for her leaves you gasping for air, even more so when she quickly unbuttons your pants to slip her hand inside of them, running her fingers up and down your slit through your underwear only for a couple of seconds, before she pulls them aside to properly touch you. She’s soon teasingly rubbing your clit and kissing the corner of your mouth, relishing in the way you’re already a panting mess without her properly touching you yet

“Has Wanda ever made you feel like this? Has she ever heard you begging her to touch you?”

The jealousy she’s displaying only makes you moan in her ear as your head spins even more

“No, only you Nat”

As you slowly start getting closer to your orgasm, you kiss the sweet spot on her neck, biting harder than intended when she suddenly enters you with two fingers and letting out a shaky whimper as she waits for a couple of seconds for you to adjust to the intrusion. When she feels you going back to kissing her neck she shallowly starts moving her fingers, focusing on trying to bend them to reach the spot that makes you see stars and successfully finding it in seconds, making your knees buckle. As she gradually speeds up her movements, all she hears are you moans in her ear getting louder and more desperate.

You pull her in to kiss her but soon break it to cry out when the palm of her hand repeatedly rubs your clit, getting you closer to your orgasm in no time, and making you reach your peak so suddenly that it takes all your breath away, leaving you gasping for air and shaking in Nat’s arms, who’s luckily been supporting you from sliding down the wall.

When your breathing has calmed down a bit and you’re able to stand on your legs again, she slides her fingers out of you, only to bring them up to your clit and lightly rub it, spreading your slick all over it. Despite still being sensitive from your recent orgasm, you soon find yourself slightly rolling your hips into her hand, silently asking her to keep going and making her even more eager to get you to your second peak, which you reach without realising it, given your brain is still very much in overdrive, blending together the moments prior to your second orgasm.

This time, you have to fully wrap your arms around Nat’s neck to hold yourself up as you sloppily kiss her, until, after you’ve fully recovered from your peak, she takes her hand out of your pants and breaks the kiss to press her fingertips on your lower lip. You grab her wrist and immediately suck her fingers in your mouth to clean them up, even giving her a show of you taking them all the way down your throat before pulling back and running your tongue around her fingertips, making her let out a low groan at your eagerness and the way you hold eye contact in the meantime.

Once you’re happy with the job you’ve done, you guide her hand under your top and bra, making her touch your boob with her still glistening fingers, before leaning to whisper in her ear

“Let’s get away from here, I wanna show you how much more I can beg for you”

.

.

Part 4 coming soon

.

.

@tashakink @simpforflorencepugh1 @natalia-quinzel @pancakefan7529 @fxckmiup @yewlina @annalestern

[kwikquik]

I think there are some really bad takes out there about Jonathan, Jancy, Stancy and inflating Steve so I just have to say all this…

Jonathan is not weak and passive. S1 he is basically a parent that is cooking, making $ for the family, being a primary caregiver to Will and his mom in all ways. He confronts his clearly abusive and dangerous father head on (Lonnie says, “you’ve gotten stronger” and Jonathan checks Lonnie’s trunk for Will, implying just how bad he might be) and later he beats up Steve— proxy for his family’s bullies. He’s basically described as a pacifist (the rabbit story) but tough when he has to be. He single-handedly plans his brother’s funeral and he plans/acts to kill the monster including stealing his dangerous dad’s gun. S2, I mean, first he is strong enough to put Nancy and Steve’s relationship completely above his own feelings (party/car scene) and then, of course, he takes part in seemingly torturing his brother to oust the monster although he is clearly emotionally tortured himself. S3 he confronts all the monsters head on including the one in El’s leg….

Chemistry. The only time I viewed Stancy as maybe having good chemistry is S1 Christmas scene and maybe also on his bed, mostly. Oh and I think he was a really good bf at Barb’s parents dinner. But nearly every other scene S1-S2 is Steve pushing boundaries with Nancy or not listening to her - which despite his sometimes puppy dog look is not cute and endearing to me. He negates her desire to study, directs how she should spend her time, she routinely wants to stop kissing before he does, he shows up at her bedroom window 2x not explicitly invited (after one of which he slut shames her), he and his friends are interested in weekday partying, drinking, sex while she is not but gets pressured into. Even before she knows Barb went missing, she clearly looks a little conflicted about the fact that she slept with Steve after the fact. By the time she’s drinking too much at the S2 party and he is right to suggest that she stop and they go home, she’s been dismissed so much by him that she no longer listens to what he has to say and then blows up about it all. Which, yes, was shitty for Steve. (Also, for those not paying attention, he absolutely did NOT tell Jonathan to take her home. Also I don’t know whether they definitely were broken up by Murray’s - they certainly both called each other bullshit - but Tommy does say they were broken up in the shower scene.) Anyway, and then the S3 end scene is the most blatant difference between N&J and N&S- Nancy never, ever showed even a fraction of that much care and love for Steve.

Re “a creep.” Creep is the bullies’ stereotype of Jonathan that some fans perpetuate, which is really sad. Like, the Duffers really said, here are bullied nerds and loners and downtrodden who deserve to be loved, and yet the fans are out here acting like Tommy & Carol about Jonathan. Did he take secret photos? Yes. Is that the only creepy thing he’s shown to ever have done? Yes. Was his brother/best friend missing and likely presumed dead at the time and his mother seemingly having another nervous breakdown and canon that they are all victims of abuse and bullying? Yes. Is Jonathan portrayed as focused on sexual things at that time? Absolutely not. Based on other Jonathan characterization, were the photos of Nancy likely sexually motivated (also the facts are that he stopped at shirtless Nancy, not ‘them having sex’ which fandom perpetuates), or instead were they super bad idea artsy snapshots of an interesting life that he’s an outsider to? The latter. Steve and friends think it’s sexual because it’s all they think about. Anyway, it was wrong but there’s context. And maybe Nancy would be more distraught about them if she wasn’t so laser focused on the fact that Barb is missing and she knows that, hey, so is this guy’s brother, who is also her brother’s best friend whose family is not as bad as she hears people say. Who else gives us clues about Jonathan? Well, the kids, who portray Jonathan as safe/responsible (contrasted to Steve as a “douchebag”), Joyce- same, and Mrs. Wheeler- same.

Re Communication. Are N and J having communications problems in S4? Yes. But at least Nancy shares with Jonathan. She has no interest (or ability sometimes) to share with Steve. It’s shown that it’s partly because Steve doesn’t listen to her and/or unconsciously disrespects what she has to say. Which continues into S4 when he doesn’t say anything like, ‘hey, I know you said 6 kids sounded like a nightmare but I wanted you to know, you are also in my dream.’ No, as usual, it’s all about him, his opinion, what he wants to do. (Also, facts, Steve has never ‘babysat’ Will or El so don’t count them in the 6…). Anyway, Nancy gets no words in edgewise and never has and stops trying pretty early on. She doesn’t show that she wants to talk to him much, really. Contrast that with Jonathan, who she is already having deep conversations about life with in the darkroom, when she is way way way less close to him than she’s supposed to be with Steve. She and J fight because they have deep conversations about things and, up til now, they’ve resolved and grown from those conflicts.

Intellectual compatibility. I don’t see this brought up very often but Nancy does not suffer fools gladly and Steve, sorry to say, is not shown to be intellectually compatible with her. She enjoys deep convos with J from early on. When she says J will be home reading Vonnegut on Halloween, she wants him to have more teenage fun, yes, but she actually respects that he reads and reads challenging stuff. She’s turned off by Steve’s simplistic college essay. She and J finish each other’s ideas while Steve confuses Germans with Nazis and various other little things like that. Can you really see Nancy excited to have conversations about “boobies!” like Robin tolerates? No. My read on Nancy meeting Robin was that Nancy was annoyed while Robin acted like a blundering idiot and then started liking her when she proved she was, in fact, quite savvy and intelligent which started when Robin found the Creel info at the library from suggesting the alternative news source (this is right after Robin says she isn’t dating Steve— leaving the audience to think it might’ve been that that turned Nancy). Nancy hangs out with the nerdy newspaper kids. Nancy says Dustin is her favorite of Mike’s friends- and it’s pretty clear that Dustin is the smartest of all of them (and bullied for being conventionally different). She says that girls Dustin’s age are too immature to realize it but that he’ll drive them crazy (aka they’ll love him) one day. Yup - just like she matured and realized that an intellectually curious, different guy like Jonathan was what she actually loved.

In S5, if J and N don’t communicate better like they have in the past and if Jonathan reverts to being a listless stoner (which, facts, he wasn’t once the Cali mission actually started), then he’s not really the guy she fell in love with anymore and it wouldn’t work out. But, Steve is shown to just not be her type beyond the surface, as much as she might even want him to be. It would be really disappointing for the Duffers to negate all that.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

it would've been 100% funnier if Edward's approach to getting Bella to appreciate her humanity was less begging her to not be a vampire and more....forcing himself to hang out with her human friends so she has a normal teenage experience lmao

could you imagine Edward Cullen at like...a high school football game?

getting dragged to an amusement park on senior ditch day

at some party and he has to pretend to be drunk to fit in with all the others

Mike, Eric, Tyler and Ben all start insisting on calling him Eddie

he goes on shopping trips with the girls because he's the only one with a running car that also has trunk space for their bags

he starts using his mind reading powers for The Gossip(tm) and Jessica is absolutely obsessed...finally someone with decent intell

God at some party everyone's lowkey high and they start playing truth or dare and Edward's using his powers to choose the least embarrassing option but Bella catches on and Edward Trusts Her so she picks him and he's expecting something tame like...truth what's your favorite color, dare kiss me or something lol but Bella looks him in the eyes and with no mercy dares him to strip tease while rapping an Eminem song. Mike films it. Edward didn't talk to her at all the next day lmao

they all go see a horror movie together and to Bella's absolute delight 1) it turns out to be a vampire movie and 2) Edward falls for every single jump scare

The Guys(tm) invite Edward to some weird bro bonding sleep over and Edward's expecting to be bored out of his mind without Bella but 3 redbulls, 2 video games and one ouija board session later they're all crying about their deepest fears to each other. Edward's telling them he's scared that if Bella marries him it will doom her eternal soul to hell but he can't live without her and they're like 'Eddie dude that's so specific calm down' 'have you considered therapy man??' 'bro you guys are 17'

Edward and Bella get roped into helping out with the senior prank and it goes t e r r i b l y. First time in half a century one of the Cullens have gotten suspended from school lmao

he sneaks Angela's little brothers candy every time they hang out at her house

Jessica begs him to tell her what Rosalie's skincare routine is but the vampire's don't even really have to shower they can just wipe stuff off and be good to go and he knows Nothing about skincare so he panics and tells her something absolutely batshit that nearly ruins her skin and Bella and Esme make him treat Jess to a spa day as an apology and Rose searches up everything on human skincare and buys some stuff for her

GOD can you imagine how helpful it would of been during eclipse to have completely non-objective friends chime in on the love triangle bullshit...Edward can vent about it without mentioning the vampire's and werewolves and they can tell him he's being dumb because she's clearly head over heels for him and is just friends with Jake

He's like 'but what if she stops loving me,,,' and they're like 'dude she's literally wedding planning with your sister and mom right now please shut the fuck up'

one day they plan a beach trip to somewhere other than La Push and it's cloudy enough that Edward should be fine if he keeps a shirt on and from then on the group has a mission: See Edward Shirtless. they go to LENGTHS. switching into his gym class. spilling things on him. begging Bella to take pictures for them. Good Christian Edward(tm) is scandalized but Bella thinks it's hilarious and keeps telling them he had crazy tattoos

Edward trying to fake pop culture knowledge to fit in but it's not working so he actually has to start paying attention to shit from the current decade and now he won't stop ranting to Bella about Harry Potter and he's very invested in Britney Spears' mental health

Edward trying to decode text talk and everyone makes fun of him bc he texts like a grandpa

Edward after one joint is on a full rant about how America should have handled the Spanish Influenza- like he has a detailed list of complaints and ideas- and everyone is like 'Bella I know he's rich but he's such a nerd Are You Sure you love him' skdjjdmd

anyway. let the old man act like a teenager for once. as a treat.

[cobrakaisb]

Being Best Friends with Hawk and Miguel (HC)

this is my first headcannon, so let me know what you guys think and if you want to see more stuff! :) also this is kinda long (sorry) so just a heads up.

Okay so I like to think that Miguel and Hawk have the same gym class

And you are definitely in that gym class, but didn’t really notice them until they joined Cobra Kai. 

probably because of the mohawk ngl

Anyways

For some reason the three of you end up becoming friends through gym class

I feel like the three of you were on the same dodgeball team 

and it’s just the three of you left

and you, like the boss bitch that you are, stand behind the two instructing them on what to do

and they listen 

and you win

and then yall become instant friends. 

Hawk definitely introduced himself first: “I’m Hawk” + confident smile

your most likely laugh at him, until you realize that he’s 100% serious

Miguel laughs with you tbh

The three of you go from gym buddies, to school friends, to hanging out at each other’s house every other day. 

You all get so close so fast

The three of you definitely have designated movie nights at someone’s house every week where each of you pick a movie and you watch them

sometimes you’ll watch old tv shows like iCarly or Jessie, but it’s mostly movies

You bring out Hawk’s nerd side, but that’s a secret you’ll never tell

“I’m so mad that Dobby died” “Dude same, I’m still not over that tbh” - y/n and Hawk 

The boys are total softies for you. 

“Can we listen to One Direction?” “NO!” “Please 🥺?” “yes” - y/n, miguel & hawk

They both secretly love One Direction, but will never admit that to you

Miguel introduced you to 80s rock and you love it

I feel like Hawk really likes MGK so he gets you into that 

if you’re already into this stuff your obsession only grows

Someone always thinks that the youre dating at least one for them

exchanges looks of disgust: “Eww!” “I have a girlfriend” “Sensei it’s not like that” (i’ll let you guess who says what)

Speaking of sensei, let’s get into the karate aspect of your friendship

The boys beg you to join Cobra Kai, but I feel like you decline 

They respect your decision obvi, but demanded that you learn some for self defense purposes

You go to the all-valley and cheer for the both of them

You probably show up looking like that one kid’s mom (jk unless that’s your style)

You cheer the loudest, but only for Hawk and Miguel

partly because they're your besties and partly because you don’t know anyone else 

When Miguel wins you run onto the mats and give him a hug. It doesn’t matter that you aren’t supposed to be there, he’s surrounded by his Cobra Kai, and hasn’t even got the trophy yet. 

Of course you hug Hawk and probably lecture him for getting disqualified because let’s be real that boy has SKILL

anyways

You go out for nachos with the other cobras and immediately hit it off with Aisha 

You also love Bert, like he literally becomes your adopted child 

I feel like you and Demetri also really get along

This makes the boys happy because now you can all hang together and you’re happy because you just gained three new friends :) 

When Miguel is sulking about Sam you go and comfort him

Like just give him a big hug please 🥺

And then Hawk comes over, and makes his stupid joke about getting blocked and counter punching. 

“Oh I’ll counter punch you!” 

Insert you and hawk play fighting until Miguel laughs

When they find out about Robby you find out about Robby because those boys have no sense of personal space 

“We should ask sensei.”

 “No you shouldn’t! He’ll probably make you scrub mats”

You then proceed to meet them at cobra Kai after practice 

And are waiting there for an extra hour on your bike 

When they come out you make some smart ass comment about how you were right 

You watch their performance at valley fest and seriously consider joining karate

The boys are so excited 

Hawk pulls out the fake to celebrate

Sensei Lawrence loves you

“So are you Diaz’s girl?” “Uh no sir” “oh my bad I should’ve known you were with hawk” “we are just friends sensei” 

Johnny doesn’t buy it 

Anyways back to you joining 

Kreese scares you and you find him sus

He’s high key the reason you back out of karate

The boys are sad along with Bert and Aisha, but understand that it’s not for you

When Hawk beats up Demetri at the mall you never find out about it 

Until Moon breaks up with him for it

And he calls you crying and confesses everything 

You’re angry at him but realize that he needs comfort so you push your feelings aside because he’s still your friend

Miguel tells you about him trashing miyagi-do 

That’s where you draw the line and confront the both of them 

“You guys are different and I don’t like it.” 

They both deny any changes, especially Hawk

You start avoiding them and they don’t get it

You don’t show up to moons party or anything because you don’t want to see them so the first day of school fight is a shock to you

You’re disappointed in Miguel for kissing Sam when he was clearly with Tory 

But you don’t want them to fight about it 

You meet Hawks eyes in the hallway and he’s silently telling you to stay out of it 

Because even though you aren’t on great terms right now he still cares about you 

Which is exactly what you do

You saw Miguel fall and cried instantly 

You were by his side with hawk, crying into his shoulder because Miguel wasn’t waking up 

“What if he dies and we weren’t even on good terms. He’s my best friend I can’t lose him without apologizing ” “Don’t talk like that he’ll be fine”

You and Hawk visit him everyday at the hospital 

You’ll tell him about your day and Hawk will sometimes add things in that you forget

“So we had a quiz in math-” “And y/n cried” “problem four was hard okay!?!”

You aren’t there when Miguel wakes up but you and Hawk go see him 

You cry when you see that Miguel’s awake and hug him gently 

You start apologizing and ranting about how much you love him and how worried you were and how you aren’t mad at him anymore 

Miguel reassured you that it’s fine and he understands why you were mad

He also points out how close you and Hawk are, but you quickly shut that down 

You help out at the car wash for Miguel 

When the cobra kais show up you tell them to leave because this was for your friend Miguel, and it didn’t matter who brought him the money

You find out about Hawk beating up Nathaniel from Demetri 

It’s safe to say you and Hawk aren’t as close anymore but still friends 

It’s when you found out about him breaking Demetri’s arm that you cut Hawk off completely 

“I can’t be friends with a bully”

That breaks Hawk, but he pretends like it doesn’t affect him

You and Johnny help Miguel try to walk again 

You’re more there for emotional support 

But Miguel appreciated it 

When Miguel can walk again you’re so happy 

Probably cry tbh

And give him a very big hug and kiss on the cheek 

When Miguel gets back together with Sam, you’re so happy for him even though you aren’t her biggest fan

When Miguel tells you that Johnny is opening up a new dojo you sign up instantly 

Miguel is SHOOK

“I felt so helpless at the school fight, I want to learn”

When Cobra Kai shows up to Eagle Fangs practice at the park Hawk is shocked to see you standing next to Miguel 

He also feels a little jealous that you picked Miguel over him 

When Kreese makes a comment about Miguel being paralyzed you're ready to pounce but Miguel and Johnny hold you back 

You’re at the LaRusso house when Cobra Kai attacks 

Instead of Demetri’s arm almost being broken again it’s you in that position 

Hawk sees and is filled with rage 

Because he still cares about you

He takes out the two boys and apologizes to you

You hug him, happy to have him back

Together you finish the fight 

You Hawk and Miguel go find Sam with Tory

“Traitors. You better watch your back,” “He won’t have to. He’s got friends watching it for him bitch”

Miguel and Hawk are surprised by your new attitude yet can’t help but feel proud 

All in all despite everything the three of you are the best of friends and nothing seems to change that.

[misscarolineshelby]

The Last Semester – Part Eight

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,378

Warning: Fluff, Angst

Previous Parts:  Part One; Part Two; Part Three*; Part Four*; Part Five*; Part Six; Part Seven 

Original Blog: @queenshelby 

***

After you didn’t return to the living area, your flatmate and friend Jeremy came into your room, immediately noticing that you were crying.

‘Jesus Y/N, what’s wrong?’ Jeremy asked concerned, taking you into his arms as he did. Jeremy had been your best friend for 15 years. He moved to London with you when you both finished high school in Dublin and studied science at the same university as you.

It was him who introduced you to Emma two years ago and it was you who introduced him to his boyfriend Thomas eighteen months ago.

Your bond was strong and you trusted him with everything. But, you have never told him about Cillian. All he knew was that you were seeing someone, a man twenty years your senior.

He never questioned you, never asked you for more details than you were willing to reveal on your own, knowing that, at some point, you would be coming around and tell him everything anyway. You always did.

‘He ended it’ you barely mentioned to say as your eyes were filling up with tears again.

‘What, just now? On the phone?’ Jeremy asked surprised and you simply nodded.

‘I am sorry Y/N, but he sounds like a wanker breaking up with you like this. You deserve better’ Jeremy said just before he picked up your shattered phone from the floor.

‘Do you want me to fix it?’ Jeremy asked and you nodded before huffing out a quiet thank you. Jeremy has been working at a mobile repair shop for the past year to help him pay rent and it was the second time he fixed your broken phone screen due to your clumsiness.

‘Alright, get some rest now. I should have this ready for you in an hour or so’ he said with a warm smile before giving you a kiss on the forehead.

He took the phone to his room. It was still on and, luckily for you, only the screen was damaged. The protective case he had given you for your last birthday was clearly worth it.

Before Jeremy turned off the phone, he noticed four text messages from someone by the name of ‘Cillian’ and, whilst he tried hard not to read them, he couldn’t resist skimming over them on the display preview before turning off your phone.

Jeremy had the password to your phone and could have read everything, but he was your friend and he didn’t want to invade your privacy. What he read was already bad enough and it was obvious to him that it was, in fact, Cillian Murphy who you had been involved with over the last ten days.  

***

The following morning, when you got up, your phone was sitting on the bedside table with a small note from Jeremy, cheering you up.

That day, you decided to call your unit co-ordinator, telling him that you were unwell and couldn’t attend class. You weren’t ready to face Cillian and pretend that nothing had happened.

Your absence at university did, however, not go unnoticed and Cillian went as far as to ask Emma about you, asking her where you were.

‘She is not feeling well’ Emma said, surprised by Cillian taking an interest in your absence.

‘Right, thanks’ Cillian responded quickly before getting on with his business. Of course, he knew the real reason you weren’t at university but he was genuinely concerned about your well being as you had not responded to his messages following his call the night before.

The truth was, there was nothing to say, nothing to respond with. You simply wanted to forget about him, but that was going to be much harder than you had expected.

***

On Tuesday night, you went to the movies with Emma, Jeremy and Thomas. Whilst you weren’t in the mood, you had promised them and realised yourself that it was probably a good idea for you to get out and about.

At least so you thought.

‘What did you book Emma?’ Thomas asked as you sat down in your seats with a bag of popcorn each.

‘A Quiet Place 2’ she said somewhat excited and Jeremy’s face turned pale in an instant.

‘Are you alright?’ you asked him concerned as you observed his facial expression.

‘Yes, I am fine, but I am not sure if you will be in a minute’ Jeremy said somewhat concerned, knowing that Cillian was part of the cast of the movie which, obviously, was why Emma, who otherwise hates horror movies, had booked it.

‘Ssssh’ Emma then was quick to say as the movie started and you had no idea why Jeremy was concerned.

But then, less than ten minutes into the movie, your evening had been ruined as you saw Cillian on the big screen which also when you noticed Jeremy looking at you.

‘Are you alright?’ he whispered and it was at this point that you realised that he knew about you and Cillian.

You nodded and took in a deep breath before pushing your back against the seat rather uncomfortably.

You weren’t going to let this ruin your night. In fact, you went as far as to convince your friends to go out with you following the movie.

***

A few drinks quickly turned things around for you and even more so for Emma.

‘She is such a lovable slut’ Jeremy laughed as Emma was quick to hit up one of the bankers at the bar who ended up buying her drinks all night long.

She certainly had a busy sex and love life and kept telling you that you should become a bit more like her when she saw you upset yet again following your recent breakup.

‘Y/N, that’s Dwayne, he is a lawyer’ Emma giggled as she introduced you to her banker’s friend who was wearing a nice dark blue suit with a black tie.

‘Hi Dwayne, I am Y/N’ you said somewhat tipsy and unbothered by Emma’s attempt to hook you up.

‘May I buy you a drink?’ Dwayne then went on to ask.

‘Sure, why not. Let’s go’ you winked and Dwayne walked with you towards the bar.

‘Hi Y/N’ you suddenly heard from behind as you stood there, next to Dwayne, who was getting you a cocktail.

‘Hey’ you huffed without turning around, recognising the voice almost instantly.

‘I see you are feeling better’ Cillian then said, which was when you turned around to face him.

‘For a matter of fact I do, yes’ you said sternly just as Dwayne ran his hand over your shoulder, indicating to you that your drink was ready before handing it to you.

You could see Cillian inhale and swallow harshly as you stood there in front of him while Dwayne introduced himself quickly and politely to Cillian, not recognising him but, rather, in a way to say that you were with him.

‘I think I want to go now’ you then said quickly to Dwayne who looked at you with surprise.

‘Alright, let’s go’ Dwayne said, putting his full drink onto the table next to yours.

‘Bye Cillian’ you then went on to say before reaching for Dwayne’s hand and pulling him along, back to where Emma and the others were standing.

‘Nice to meet you’ Dwayne said, smiling and shrugging his shoulders.

When you returned to the table, Emma had gone and so had her banker friend, while Jeremy and Thomas were on the dancefloor surrounded by eight drunken women.

‘I think I should go’ you then said to Dwayne who looked at you somewhat confused.

‘Can I see you again?’ he asked politely, seemingly unbothered that he just wasted $15 pounds on drinks.

You nodded shyly before writing your number down on a piece of paper for him and, seconds later, Dwayne leaned in and kissed you, right there in front of everyone.

‘See you and thank you’ you said after you quickly pulled away from Dwayne. It was too quick and too soon.

As you walked out, you saw Cillian standing there, looking at you. It was obvious to you that he had seen everything.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​ @vhscillian​ @ysmmsy​ @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  ​

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

[curiousconch]

Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 2)

Part 2: Before I dive right into you

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of their pretend wedding in Las Vegas, Gabe begins to unravel his growing feelings for Alex. But as he attempts to bring his past to light, someone from Alex's previous life casts a shadow on the future.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 2.4k+ (sorry 🙈)

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / alcohol consumption, some swears

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

A little after 1 AM, Las Vegas

Gabe can't help but smirk at the look of mischief in Alex's eyes as they stood by a quiet spot in the middle of Las Vegas. With her in that glittery dress, he somehow can't bring himself to part from her yet.

He knew it wasn't only him who felt that tingling in his fingertips when he brushed her cheeks, her breath smelling strongly of martini. He was very aware that Alex felt the same when she stared back at him, standing at that cramped cheap chapel while an Elvis impersonator stood nearby. The moment she stepped away when he said that it's just all pretend made Gabe's heart ache with regret.

So here they were, standing awkwardly after he shot down her advances again.

But he was sure he didn't want the night to end here.

After calling for a car, he shoved his phone inside the pocket of his slacks and turned to Alex.

"I was serious when I said I wanted a celebratory drink," he glanced apologetically to his side where she stood. "Our hotel bar offers my favorite scotch."

Alex raised her head, smiling. "Knew you had it in you, Gabe."

A car ride and a couple of glasses of Lagavulin later, there they were, lounging on stools at their opulent hotel bar, warm lights and jazz music providing a backdrop on the casual atmosphere.

"And I could not believe the rat thing worked! Who would've known they kept a rat in there as a pet? Like really?" Alex raised her glass to her lips, as Gabe sat on the barstool beside her, cradling his own drink.

"Beginner's luck, I would believe," he chuckled in reply, leaning forward, tie loosened and his coat hanging at the back of his chair.

"I am so offended," Alex gasped as she shoved her hands flat on her chest in mock disbelief. "I'm not only the boring nerd when I was in high school, Gabe. I was that nerd who sang and dance at the drama club!"

Gabe shook his head, his lips pursing. "That makes so much damn sense, Alex." He took another swig of his third shot, fighting for dear life from laughing his heart out. Not wanting to give her that satisfaction, he threw a sarcastic dig at her remark. "That's so believable, seeing you could snatch an Oscar from Meryl Streep herself and the no one wouldn't even bat an eye."

"Ah, law was plan A, sir." she saluted, placing her empty glass on the bar counter. "Acting was a fallback in case it didn't pan out." she giggled.

Gabe grinned as he rolled up his sleeves, beckoning the bartender for another round. "You should have made it your plan A, seeing how you turned out," he teased, bringing up the fun bit they did to retrieve a copy of Lydia Rothswell's marriage certificate. The very same act that almost made Gabe kiss Alex in the middle of The Strip.

"Aww, Gabe, finally found a better lawyer than you? Feeling threatened yet?" Alex leaned in, snickering as their glasses were refilled. "Don't worry, I' ll settle for being a Junior Partner for now," she said as she reclined, before throwing in a playful wink.

"Well someone's head just became bigger," he gave her a smug look.

"Just trying to keep up with all the cockiness in the room," she smiled coyly, watching Gabe's stupefied expression. It was clear then that she scored a slam dunk at the championship of comebacks, laughing at his astonishment.

Gabe finally gave up, joining Alex in her laughter. As their joy receded, he let himself take in the sight of Alex without any inhibitions. What he was beginning to see was the extent of her wit, her ability to keep her cool, and the sharp humor that matched only his.

Under the warm light of the lounge, she brilliantly shone. He couldn't focus at what she was now saying as he danced at the appeal of them becoming more than colleagues. Perhaps he resisted his own feelings long enough that he was past the point of denial. Or simply because he was starting to get drunk.

Though before he can even begin to consider that, he was still sober enough to know that he first needed to tell her the truth.

The truth that sometime long ago, their paths have already crossed. And that he did something very horrible.

Call him cynical, but he wasn't kidding when he admitted he was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. And that meant laying down all his cards on the table. Because for him, Alex was more than the occasional one-night stand. And he can't be certain of how long he could keep himself from his budding feelings, all stakes be damned.

What better time to be honest when there was enough alcohol in his system to prevent all rational thinking? It's now or never, he figured.

"Alex, I -"

"Alessandra? Alessandra Keating?" a deep voice came from behind him, interrupting Gabe. He cocked his head to get a clearer view, as a man with slicked back blonde hair approached from a private booth nearby.

Without hesitation, the tall stranger in the dark suit stepped forward, his striking features Gabe would have easily recognized anywhere. That face was almost in every blockbuster movie in the last five years.

"Julian? What are you doing here?" Alex asked, as abashed as he was. Gabe saw how she clammed up the very second she recognized the man.

"Oh my, it really is you!" the man stopped beside Alex's bar stool, welcoming himself to their company. The way he was looking up and down at her made Gabe's jaw clench so hard, his teeth gritted. But the man's next movement stunned him all the more. In front of him, the man embraced Alex, making Gabe suddenly want to combust. His tumbler could've shattered if he tightened his grip on it a little more.

"Uhm, Julian, hi," Gabe surveyed Alex as she writhed within the man's arms, waiting for any signal from her so he could do something, anything, to make this man go away. But she assured him with one look, shifting a little, making the man who wedged himself between them release her.

"It's been so long! When was the last time I saw you, like, 12, 13 years ago?" the man exclaimed, his annoying smile making Gabe want to slam his fist somewhere. And it wasn't on the bar counter.

Gabe heard Alex scoff, fighting hard to regain her composure. "Yeah, high school," Her icy demeanor took over, one that Gabe only saw in the courtroom. She brushed her dress as she tilted her head to Gabe's direction.

The man turned to Gabe, the surprise evident as he acknowledged Gabe's presence behind him. The two men sized each other up sending an undercurrent of tension between them. Before Gabe could even consider acting out of impulse, Alex cleared her throat to diffuse his temper.

"Julian, this is Gabe. Gabe, this is Julian, my -"

"Ex," Julian interjected, before turning his attention to the lawyer. Apparently, this guy had a habit, Gabe observed. "We were together senior year. Alessandra, my angel, we had the best time together, didn't we? We looked good together, at least after Alex thought to improve her image here. Sadly, we had to break up. Teenage romances, you know?"

The picture couldn't be any clearer; this was the person Alex was speaking about during their dinner back in New York. And hearing the way he talked, no wonder Julian got under her skin. He was a damned manipulative pretentious liar. Gabe could hear the dishonesty between the words, not an ounce of authenticity in sight while the blonde hotshot rambled on.

Alex wasn't showing any sympathy either, her brown eyes staring daggers at him, as he went on about his monologue, emphasizing on how she was his back then. She was clearly infuriated by his attempt to own her, as well as his lack of shame. As Gabe quietly considered her reaction, he deliberated on a strategy to put her out her misery. The moment an idea came to mind, he gave Alex a subtle look asking her to back his play.

Alex nodded, sitting a little straighter. Finding the instant shift in her, Gabe made his move.

"Sweetheart," he slowly raised his voice as he said the endearment, enjoying the contempt from the other guy when he was interrupted. "You never told me Julian Wintour was your ex."

Alex smiled smugly, appearing pleased with the nickname Gabe chose, a clear pun on the whole high school sweetheart trope. "Never crossed my mind, babe. It's such an unimportant detail in my past," she waved her hand dismissively.

"Ah, nonsense," he finished his drink and gestured for the bartender to clean up. "Mr. Wintour's history would have made a good conversation starter." Gabe straightened his vest and stood, collecting his coat. He sauntered towards Alex, circling around the now speechless Julian. He draped his jacket over her shoulders, clearly making a statement before he reached for her hand, wrapping it in his.

"Why? Isn't the shiny nameplate of Senior Partner not good enough?" Alex expertly rode along, locking eyes with her former flame before gazing back at Gabe enticingly. "Forgive him, Julian. My lovely boyfriend here has a bad hobby of underselling himself," she smiled warmly, the irony of her statement eluding her ex. Gabe was about to smirk with her ingenuity, stopping when he felt her arm slowly wrapping around his waist. He barely stifled a groan at the intimacy of her touch.

The other man went beet red at the gesture. For embarrassment or infuriation or both, Gabe didn't fucking care. All he cared about was for Alex to slap this douche's face, metaphorically speaking.

"Anyway, Julian, it's been a pleasure. It's been a long night, and we're about ready to retire at our penthouse suite," steadily, she got up from her seat. The command in her was undeniable, forcing anyone to feel nothing but regret the day they decided Alessandra Keating wasn't good enough for them. Then with a flourish, she turned around as she let Gabe take her away from her past lover's scrutinizing gaze.

Inside the elevator, Gabe caught Alex's exhale of relief, probably thankful that Julian was out of her sight. Gabe still held onto her hand, though Alex didn't seem to notice. As they began their ascent, he waited for her to break the silence, deciding that the questions running in his mind can wait.

"I would have traded my rankings for the look of disbelief in Julian's face," Alex said turning to him, to which Gabe arched his brow.

He smirked devilishly, knowing Alex could take the hint. "I believe I could offer a sight better than that."

She grinned at the innuendo, further lightening up the mood between them. "One day, Gabe, I'll take you up on that," she said, crossing her legs as she leaned on the polished wall behind her. "Though I'm sure you're dying to know... How did I end up dating the Julian Wintour?"

Gabe pondered before answering. "Hmm, actually not the first one that comes to mind, no." He tapped against his temple. "I doubted you would ever bat an eyelash to his direction."

Her eyebrows rose. "Ah, you think so highly of me." She chuckled, shaking her head at his reply. "But yes, he was my ex. And yes, he was the red on my ledger. He was my first love," she admitted. "That ideal, once in a lifetime, true love everyone's talking about? Julian was it, or at least I thought he was." she sighed, glancing at her reflection on the polished metal panel beside her. "But when things started to go downhill for me, he was the first one to walk out," she paused, taking a deep breath. "By cheating on me."

Gabe's body went rigid, clenching his fists so hard until his nails dug unto his palms. What the fucking hell? I know I should have punched that guy's perfect teeth! He decided against airing his vengeful thoughts, staying quiet as he glimpsed at her image on the walls.

"Joey reminded me how Julian made me doubt myself. If I'm really over what he's done to me, if he's still in my head," she continued, rubbing at her nape. Gabe felt her gaze fall on him, which he reciprocated. "But after walking out from him tonight, I am much more certain that I made it out, after all."

Gabe felt her squeeze his hand as she said those words, and his heart somersaulted inside his chest. "So thanks. I needed that little nudge," she said in finality.

He turned to beam at her as he relished the triumph in her words, hoping that it was enough to convey that he was proud of her. And to be part of that discovery about herself, about who she always was in his eyes - someone who was his equal.

When they arrived at her floor, she gently freed her hand from his grasp invoking a sharp exhale from him. She stepped out of the elevator, her gait as undeterred as ever. But then she turned, her soft expression dimmed by the lack of light. "And while we're on the subject of appreciation," she uttered, before dropping one last revelation.

"Thanks for that save you also gave me ten years ago," Alex glanced up at him with half-lidded eyes, her words laced with meaning.

It took him a few moments before he could even comprehend what she was trying to convey. He searched her eyes for some explanation but found none. "What do you mean, Alex?" he said, managing to find his voice.

"I know exactly who you are, Gabriel Ricci."

With that, the doors slowly closed in front of him, her sly smile fading from his sight until he can only see his own reflection. He examined her last sentence, repeating the words over and over in his head. There was only one plausible explanation: she only knew half of the truth. His body sagged against the wall as he shut his eyes, angry at himself.

No Alex, I think you really don't.

Author's Notes: Thank you for your continued reading! As some of you may have already noticed, this part was written purely in Gabe's POV because I wanted to expose his conflicted feelings for Alex. It's probably my own version of revenge, with PB stretching that slow burn as much as they could 🤭 Share your thoughts in the comments, I'd really appreciate it! 💖

Taglist: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @fucking-random1 @sarcastic01lily @spookycolorpeanut @ophrookie @suitfer

@choicesficwriterscreations

It's my first time tagging a couple of folks, so please inform me if I missed including you. Also, want to be added or removed from the tag list? No problem - just let me know 😊.

[anotherloganstan]

The Hurt - DRLAMP

Summary: Janus has become to feel a little more left out of the group, it hurts him so much but perhaps he’s hurting himself more than the others are hurting him after all.

A/N: Thanks to @treeni for commissioning this piece and also to @candied-peach who this is written for as well, enjoy! 

Warnings: angst, self-hatred, pining, hurt/comfort, getting together (with the others already in an established relationship)

Word count: 3k

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

Janus is a lot of things, sarcastic, harsh, a liar, a little mean when he needs to be, but also emotional. But those walls were built up so high they even rival Logan’s own, well, before the somewhat recent development that is. And Janus was hurt. Painfully, deeply so. It hurt to see them together. To see them all together. The way Patton pulls each one of them into a hug only to hesitate when it came to Janus, that hurt. The way Virgil would make each and every one their signature drink only to ‘forget’ Janus’, that hurt. The way Roman would ruffle their hair, place the most delicate kiss onto a forehead – aside from his brother who more often than not got an affectionate slap over the head and a laugh – it still hurt. The way Logan will sit curled up close to another, holding hands while he reads, that hurt. And the way Remus, he closest friend, took off and left him for them, perhaps that hurt the most.

But he could not show that, could he? He was strong, a force to be reckoned with, spiteful, petty, and yet still hurt.

Many nights he spent alone, listening to giggles and laughs, loud conversations between the thin walls, sharp tears stinging his eyes and sniffles muffled by his pillows. It really, really hurt. The deep pain in his chest stabbing, aching, irrational, absurd. He was jealous. So very painfully jealous. Not of any of them in particular, no, he was jealous that he wasn’t a part of whatever they had, this closer, more intimate relationship that clearly, he was not worthy of. They did not want him, they did not need him, he was nothing to them, nothing but someone, something, to use, a convenience, to be there whenever they needed him to be of service and nothing else.

He could not help those painful, poisonous thoughts from plaguing his brain, his thoughts, his dreams. It got him down.

*

It’s a movie night, Janus is certain, the loud singing from the twins and Patton, the boisterous giggling, even the undignified screeches of ‘hey!’ from Virgil and Logan every so often. Janus is missing out but then again, he wasn’t invited. It is late anyway, too late to join them. Maybe he should simply go to bed, he won’t sleep but he’s not doing anything else either, other than wallowing in his own self-pity and depressing thoughts.

He gets up, puts on one of his favourite silk robes and decides that he looks decent enough to be seen and walks downstairs, even just to see what’s going on. Even just, for a moment, to feel like he’s involved.

But it is a bad idea. Seeing Roman sat on the floor between Patton’s legs, the other man playing with his hair in a way that must be soothing as Roman’s eyes are closed blissfully, yet a smile on his lips and giggles still slip past. Beside Patton is Logan, leaning against him but talking lowly with Virgil beside him – probably about something that set them all off laughing in the first place. Remus then beside him, well, half atop of Virgil who simply chooses to ignore him and his maniacal laughter for the most part.

“Shh, be quiet, we don’t want to wake Janus up,” Patton scolded the seemingly endless giggles from the others but unable to stop himself from snickering as Remus unceremoniously falls off the couch and onto the floor between his fit of laughter.

“Don’t worry, I’m already awake,” he says, deadpan and serious, if only to mask the slight hurt of once again not being invited nor included to one of their group hangouts.

“Oh, Janus, we’re sorry!” Patton apologises immediately, hand over his mouth to cover the remnants of his laughter. And Virgil at least has the decency to kick at both of the twins to get their attention, giving them ‘a look’ which they must understand as ‘shut the fuck up immediately’ because they fall almost completely silent.

Great, now he’s ruined their fun.

“It’s alright, Patton, I was awake already, continue, it seems like you were all having a good time,” he says, unable to stop the bitterness from seeping into his voice. God, he is such a bitch.

“Ah, we apologise, Janus, we assumed you were having a ‘self-care’ day as we hadn’t seen you all morning and this afternoon,” Logan explains from his position half on Virgil’s lap and half on the couch leaning against Patton.

“Right,” Janus responds, unsure of what else to say, should they not have assumed? Should they have come to him to ask if he was busy? Maybe that would have been nice, but he knows he would have been intruding much like he is now.

So, he lies. Again. Like he always does.

“Quite right, Logan,” he continues, at least attempting to sound somewhat unfazed and confident and content, “I have just come for a glass of water then I think a bubble bath and face mask is in order. Please do enjoy your movie.”

They do. Or at least Janus assumes they do. He gets his unnecessary glass of water from the kitchen and takes it back to his room, listening as they resume their movie, and the giggles start up almost as soon as he leaves. That only stings a little. He tries to brush off the feeling that maybe they are laughing at him. They would not, he knows, but the voice in his head tells him that anyway. He takes a bath regardless to keep up appearances and not to seem like such the filthy liar he actually is. They all hate his lies anyway.

*

He catches them again a few nights later. Perhaps they are not caught, after all this is all their kitchen, but Janus, again, feels as if he is intruding on something intimate. Date night, he presumes. Virgil on his usual place atop the countertop, in a slightly more formal purple jumper and jeans, sticking his fingers into something sweet whenever Patton, in the adorable pink apron, turns his back to scold at Remus for touching the hot trays. Roman sits at the table, poised and as beautiful as ever, clearly dressed up for the event, adding garnish to what must be their starter course. Logan sits beside him, stirring together some sort of dressing for the salad, listening but not participating to the conversation Roman and Virgil are having from across the kitchen.

“Janus, come in,” Logan says, having clocked him the moment he came to be at the doorway.

Janus flushes, unable to stop himself, the hurt and guilt combining, yet the invitation warms him just a little.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” he responds, almost sheepishly. He feels very underdressed in front of them all, even Logan seems to have made an effort (though he doubts of his own free will).

“You wouldn’t be imposing, we’ve made enough for all six of us,” Logan says, the barest hint of a smile gracing his features and Janus is sure he wants to make Logan smile like that and more in the future.

“I shouldn’t, you all should be able to enjoy your date night without the need to babysit me, I would merely get in the way,” he tries, hoping that his raw emotion is not slithering through his somewhat humorous words.

Logan sighs. And Janus cannot help feeling as though he is the source of this disappointment, this frustration. But he does not say anything.

“What our nerd is trying to say is we want you here,” Roman interrupts, voice as loud as before, bringing the attention of others onto Janus who merely wishes he had not come at this point, “you can’t be imposing if you have an invitation, sorry, you’re not even cool enough to gate crash anyway.”

The good-natured insult makes Janus almost reconsider. Almost. Lost for a moment in thought, barely a smile on his face until it drops suddenly. He shouldn’t let himself feel too comfortable around them, especially on their date night, least he fall victim and break his own heart with false hope.

“I shan’t tonight, boys,” he says after a moment, all eyes on him, and he avoids looking at their faces – hoping to not see a look of disappointment or even more so a look of relief at his departure – “have a lovely night though.”

With that he is gone.

*

It is a few days later that he breaks. All the feelings trapped inside of him, festering inside of his soul and willing to break free. It was the glimpses of kisses, becoming the background for sensual touches and too long hugs, of soft whispers he definitely was not supposed to overhear, to the sounds of shrieked laughter from down the hall and loud conversations he had no part it. Their own little lives he had- has no part in.

*

They are in the living room again, music on low and the bursts of chatter flowing down the corridor and Janus’ curiosity gets the better of him. Sticky notes stuck to all their foreheads and smiles on their faces – that he tries to tell himself they all do not drop when he enters – playing some sort of silly game.

“Janus!” Patton exclaims at the same time Remus shrieks “I’m not a chicken?”

“Sorry for interrupting, I’ll just go.”

“Wait!” Roman raises his voice from between the grumbling amongst Remus and Virgil with Logan as a somewhat bored mediator.

Roman is at his side in an instant, having no issue manhandling Janus to face him, his smile big and infectious, almost making Janus believe he wants him there, but he knows he’s just being polite.

The other goes to say something before his face changes and what comes out instead is, “are you okay?”

And they have not asked that for a while. And Janus is not sure for the real answer. So, he lies. As always.

“I’m fine.”

It came out harsh, clipped, angry.

“You don’t seem it, are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine, leave it at that.”

“Okay,” Roman relents, “I mean, you don’t have to go just because we’re all in here, we do realise that you don’t spend so much time with us anymore, and that’s okay! Just, you don’t have to go because we’re in here too.”

“Yes, Roman, I do. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?”

“Any of it. I just… I can’t be around you all, it’s too much.”

He stops just short of telling Roman that it hurts. It pains him.

“Janus,” Roman begins, voice soft and gentle, not wanting to spook Janus, “you know you can tell me anything and I’m here for you, right?”

And Janus is sure if Roman held out his arms now that he would merely fall into the hug, cry and collapse against the romantic and let everything out.

Instead, he responds, “of course, Roman,” and takes his leave despite everything telling him to stay.

*

Alone, again, once more. You would think he has become used to the silence and the loneliness, sadly not. He lies on his bed, lights out aside from the small lamp on his bedside table, dressed for bed yet not tired, no, merely exhausted. He considers getting up for a glass of water (and telling himself he definitely will not change his mind and reach for the wine once in the kitchen) but then there is a knock at the door. A sharp, pristine, calculated knock.

Had it been anyone else Janus may not have opened the door, not in the mood for a loud, over exertive interaction. But he knows Logan stands on the other side of the door, perhaps alone, perhaps not. Janus does not know which he would prefer in all honestly.

He gets up and unlocks the door all the same, opening it to reveal Logan as he assumed, in his navy sleep shirt and shorts, and Virgil, looking a tad more tired and sheepish than the other, in a black tank top and joggers.

And Janus does not know what persuades him, but he opens the door further and says, “do come in, it’s not at all late.”

Virgil falters for a moment before trailing behind the seemingly oblivious Logan. And, well, Janus could make a joke about how he never anticipated these boys in his bed, but he decides against it.

“Janus, we are sorry for the late interruption but we thought it best to come and talk to you regarding, uh, the other day and we assumed that you would not appreciate being cornered by all of us so myself and Virgil thought it wise to approach you alone, apologies if this is an uncomfortable subject matter for you but we deem it necessary,” Logan explains, eyes on Janus as Virgil seems to be suddenly very interested in the black silk sheets.

Janus all but forces a casual smirk and wills his tone to remain calm as he closes the door and stays standing as far away from the others as possible, “I understand, my outburst the other day was most certainly uncalled for and will never happen again, forgive me.”

“That is not at all what we mean, Janus,” Logan responds after a beat, “and I think you know that deep down.”

Another pause.

“What exactly do you mean then?” Maybe his tone is too harsh, volatile, defensive. He can tell by the way Virgil flinches ever so slightly.

Logan opens his mouth to say something but clearly thinks best of it and closes it again. And Janus has never been more angry with himself than now.

“What Logan is trying to say is, well, you’ve noticed that we’re all kind of, uh, together-ish, well, mostly and we want to say that… we’d like to, I don’t know, extend the invitation to you too, fuck, that sounds really fucking formal,” Virgil finally grits out, voice quiet and rough, clearly nervous as his fingers pick at the sheets and he meets neither of their gazes, “we like you a lot, Janus, and we realised that we’ve kind of been dicks to you without even realising it and, well, that’s shitty of us and we’re sorry but we want you in this fucked up little relationship of ours too, it’s not the same without you.”

Janus, well, he laughs. He can’t help it, a short, sharp laugh escaping him before he can stop himself. He is sure Virgil is overly anxious especially now and he would not be surprised if Logan got up any moment and punched him in the face.

“Sorry, I just- it is kind of funny how I always thought you all never wanted me, you never needed me, I just assumed that, well, you were all doing just fine without me and you made that all very fucking clear,” he says, voice wavering, “I felt so, so excluded and you all just did nothing. I was so fucking alone, I had no one, you left me Virgil, you left us, and- well, fuck, Remus left and then I had no one. So, excuse me for feeling a little pissed off at you all.”

He sighs, runs a hand through his messy bed-head before coming to sit at the bottom of his bed across from the other two.

“I love you all, I do, individually and in some ways different to others but I loved you all and it hurt me so much to see you all go, it broke my fucking heart, and I don’t know if it’s fixable.”

They’re both looking at him now, softly, gently, beautifully.

“But I was jealous, so very jealous.”

He lets himself cry, silently, wiping away the tear trails with his bare hands. That is until each of his hands in captured by either man on his bed with him. Virgil’s hand is soft and warm, comforting, and familiar. Logan’s is cold, his fingers longer and able to touch more of Janus’ own, it makes him feel secure in a new way.

“We’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

*

They talk. All of them. Sometimes together, sometimes just two or three of them. Janus is slowly opened up to their relationship dynamic that is far more complex than he would have imagined. And he realises he does not want to kiss all of them in that way, only wants to hold some of them, touch some of them more intimately. But he wants all of them in their own special ways. He becomes closer to them all over time.

He kisses Patton on the forehead for the first time and the father figure bursts into tears and does not let him out of a hug for at least an hour when the others find them. He’s fond of holding Virgil’s hand, it is almost how they used to be but different, more open and accepting of their emotions, it is nice in a way Janus would never have thought of before. He enjoys kissing Roman, gently on his mouth, or even just catching his cheek, it is soft and the romantic flushes before offering a sweet kiss in return or, heaven forbid, a kiss on his hand. As for Logan he enjoys his presence, leaning up against one another late at night or early in the morning when the others are still in bed or occupied, reading or listening to music, there is a soft, unspoken love and gentleness between them.

Then there is Remus. For a while, the other does not dare come near him alone out of fear. And Janus understands the same feeling. Regret, guilt, abandonment. But when he finally gets Remus alone, gets his arms around the other’s torso and buries his head into the crook of his neck. He never wants to let him go again.

He never wants to let any of them go.

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

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[tooruluv]

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 6 )

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,595

warnings/notes: i apologize for the delayed update! finals kicked my ass. but! here it is!! last part is the last part (which is crazy). hope you all enjoy~

prev | next (final)

“  why do I keep on coming back for more if all that you do is shut me out the door ” - bittersweet, greer

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The friendship blossomed between you and Kei Tsukishima. Cue the montage of getting him to laugh and study dates at his house. Cue the montage of corny music as the two of you subtly messed around instead of focusing on the fundraisers. Cue the montage of you growing closer with a bright filter.

You thought that if you managed to become his friend, his second in command, the colors would start to fade. Because by then, he was a friend. And friendships are marked with a stamp and wax seal. 

You didn’t know that friendships are the easiest to fall in love with. 

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed one morning. 

You were irritated beyond anything, a simmering anger that you tried to suppress as you got ready for the school day. The bright colors in your bathroom only seemed to piss you off even more. 

And, to make you even more angry at everyone and everything, Kei Tsukishima didn’t notice at all.

You were internally raging, and he didn’t say a word. Sure, you weren’t expressing your attitude to him. But as your second, he should know. Put a hand on your shoulder or flick your forehead and tell you to calm down. Anything but the silence you were receiving.

Even Yamaguchi got you an extra juice box, claiming that the “machine gave him two”. No it didn’t.

You glared at the stupid fucking board behind your homeroom teacher, letting your mind wander. Your life was so fucking annoying. 

First, you fall in love with some guy you barely knew. Then you voluntarily spend more time with him and his entire team. And, to top it off, the colors only grew as you grew your friendship with the blonde boy.

You could barely see the grey filter anymore.

When Tsukki just up and left after class instead of waiting, you felt your eye twitch.

“She’s not in a good mood today, you know.” Yamaguchi said, walking beside his best friend. “You should say something to her. She’ll be in a better mood if you do.”

“What would me talking to her do?”

Yamaguchi shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s in love with you, I’m sure whatever you do or say would make her feel better.”

During your blooming friendship with Tsukki, you found yourself at his house a lot.

You liked to quiz each other on random things, study for the next quiz, or do homework. You know. Things that nerds do.

You spent the entire weekend there, hanging out and getting to know the man you were in love with. 

You never spoke about the almost kiss.

“Do you want to play catch with me?” You offered. You were lying on his floor, feet up against his wall and body exhausted from sitting up all day.

“Play catch with you?” He turned around in his desk chair, facing your figure on the ground. “With what?”

“I always have my glove and a ball in my bag. All you need is a glove.” You perked up, twisting your head to see him. “And I know your brother has one.”

“Okay so next question. Why?”

“As a break.”

“I’m not going to play sports when I don’t have to. Why, when all we do is practice anyway?”

“It isn’t practice. It’s a break from our studies. It’s supposed to be fun.”

“Fun.”

“Yes, fun.” You pushed yourself up. “C’mon.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Tsukki, c’mon. Please!”

He ended up playing for hours.

You sat in the grass, throwing the softball up and watching it come back down. Usually, practice would calm you down and stop you from throwing a tantrum for very long.

All in all, it had been a shit day throughout.

You woke up in a mood. You could get over that. But then, your teacher called you out specifically for something you didn’t even do. You got a test back and had a lower grade than you should have received. Your lunch was ass. And, to top it off, your coach yelled at you in front of the entire team. 

You wanted to burn through the grass and sit in the center of the earth.

Not to mention that the one guy, the one person that you wanted to talk to, hadn’t spoken a word to you the entire day.

It was as though he was deliberately ignoring you. Going out of his way to avoid you, even.

You sighed as you stared at the sun.

You put on a fake smile for volleyball practice. Tsukishima noticed. How could he not notice when your eyes didn’t have their usual glow?

He tried to focus on the stupid volleyball club, do the drills and keep up with the team. 

But he kept glancing towards you.

You sighed as you cleaned up the last ball. Hinata and Kageyama were still going at it (Hinata’s frown quickly vanished after you rejected his ask of you to stay). You rolled your shoulders to crack your back. Being angry all day really does put some weight on your shoulders.

You started to leave the gym, carrying your softball bag and your backpack, when a body appeared next to yours. 

Tsukki.

“Come with me.” He said.

“Oh, so you are talking to me?” You bantered. 

“Yes.” He pushed up his glasses. “Come.”

And you did.

You followed him for a while, never asking why or where you were going. The amount of trust you had in this boy was insane.

You ended on a hill. It was out of the city, pretty distant into the suburbs, and you couldn’t hear the sound of cars or anything other than the occasional bird.

It was dark, but you could see clearly.

Tsukki sat down first, leaning onto his arms in the grass. You followed suit, silently sitting beside him.

“I come here when I’m in a shitty mood.” He said after a while. You shoved your bags aside. “It’s calming.”

“I’m sure it’s beautiful during the summer.” You said, gazing where the flowers are wilting. 

“It is.” 

“The flowers are yellow, by the way.” You told him. “Well, they’re dying so it’s more of a mustard or burnt yellow. But they’re yellow nonetheless.”

“Like my hair.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, like your hair.”

A pause. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?” He asked, turning his head towards you. 

“For taking me here. Even though you knew I was frustrated.”

“I knew you were kind of pissed since you walked into school.” Tsukki said. “I just didn’t want to somehow make it worse, so I kept my distance. Yamaguchi scolded me about it earlier. I figured this would get you to smile at least.”

He was closer to you now. Your thighs were touching.

“Well, thank you.” 

He was leaning in. The second time this has happened and you still couldn’t control the rapid heart beats in your chest. He was just going to wipe dirt from your shoulder, or maybe he was going to push your hair back. Maybe, if you were lucky, he was going to hug you.

Your eyes were open when he kissed you.

As his lips touched yours, you tasted mint. You only took a second of surprise to kiss him back, grasping at his neck to keep him close.

His glasses never got in the way.

Tsukki kept his hands to himself; but because of the height difference, it was a bit like he was leaning over you. The wilting flowers surrounded the both of you as you moved together.

You were the one to pull back, catching your breath. He did too, as if composing himself.

“Tsukki?” You bit your lips, still tasting him. 

“Hm?”

“Do you really not see color?”

There was a moment of deafening silence. You could hear buzzing in your ears. His eyes shifted between yours and you couldn’t define the emotion behind them.

“No.” He turned his head back to the hills. “I don’t.”

tag list: @vhskenma​​​​​​​ @elianetsantana​​​​​​​ @mini-eggs-reads​​​​​​​ @ysasian​​​​​ @hhwanggu​​​​​ @i-stole-your-juice-box​​​​​ @definitelynotbianca​​​​​ @denkithunder​​​​ @smuttyanimeslut​​​ @yourlocalbabybird​​​ @theydy-madamonsieur​ @expiredbananamilk​​ @sunandtsukki​ @babyoomi​

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Big Secret

Pairing: Kirishima x reader, but also . . . pining!Bakugou

Warnings: Mentions of/implied sex, but nothing actually graphically happening. Gay/Bi/Poly fun stuffs. Bakugou doesn’t like the color pink. Also language from YoU kNoW wHo

Author’s Note:

*sips tea*

So.

Technically, no one asked for this, but I wanted to write it anyway. Then someone requested a sequel, so I made this prequel first (because I had a clearer idea, nothing against them). It doesn’t matter if you read Little Secret or Big Secret first, so do whatever if you’re new. 

Little Secret did surprisingly well, so I was more than happy to jump back into the mini AU. This takes place about a month before the events of Little Secret. I could not pick whether this is angst or crack, so I made it both. Both is good.

This is my first crack at angst (haha, see what I did there? I’m so smart and funny). If it’s bad, then it’s kind of just practice for me. If it’s good and you decide you like it . . . hooray! I did something right for once.

Anyway, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

-Sugar

⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙

⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙

Bakugou stood in front of your door, scowling as usual.

Ever since you and Kirishima had started dating, it felt like the red-haired hard boy was impossible to be reached, constantly spending all his time with you. Bakugou had expected as much when the two of you had announced to him that you were a couple, but this was starting to get ridiculous. He was starting to feel a little too left out, getting angry at how much he found himself missing your presences as you had once hung out interchangeably in all three of your rooms. But that was before, when you were all just friends.

Just friends.

Bakugou shook his head before rapping impatiently at your door. "Oi, (N/N), have you seen Kirishima?"

"I'm in here."

Katsuki immediately recognized the sound of the redhead's voice on the other side of your door, causing him to frown. Of course. Just as he'd anticipated.

"It's open," you called.

And you were in there too. Gods, he hoped he didn't just catch you two doing something disgusting, like kissing or worse. He was almost to the point of praying that the two of you were at least decently clothed when he opened the door.

What he most certainly didn't expect was the sight before him, immediately smacking him in the face the moment he walked in.

Kirishima had just gotten up from laying belly down on the floor, clad only in a pair of loose black sweatpants, defined muscles clearly out for anyone to see. You were right next to him, sitting in your cute pajamas. Bakugou had tried telling you off for copying him by wearing that black tank top like he did, but you had insisted that it had been as much your idea as it had been his. His gaze wandered to your bare legs, accentuated by a pair of short (F/C) shorts.

The most shocking thing however, was the fact that both your faces were slathered in some sort of mint-green paste, hair tied up and pushed back with fuzzy animal-themed headbands.

"Need something, Bakubro?" Kirishima asked, yanking him out of his thoughts before he could get too far down a rabbit hole that would be painfully embarrassing to climb himself back out of.

"You have my notes. I need them."

It was true, Kirishima had asked to borrow Katsuki's lesson notes, like he always did at the end of the week. Upon finding the boy absent from his room, Bakugou could have easily let himself in and taken them off his desk, right where they always were. But for some reason, he'd been driven to go out and find the redhead. He didn't know why. Maybe it was to torture himself. He never knew why he even still bothered being around you two.

There was a new feeling ever since you'd become official; a sickness churning in the pit of Katsuki's stomach. Oddly, he vaguely recognized it from when that damned Deku would constantly show him up, but this one was always much stronger, somehow even more painful.

Why did he wince every time you went to grab Eijirou's hand? Why did he find himself with the urge to go be sick when he'd first seen Eijirou lean over to give you a peck on the cheek? It had been because it was gross couple stuff, right? Bakugou wasn't here for all that nasty touchy-feely stuff. He'd seen his parents do it, and it disgusted him. And now his best friends were doing it with each other; sometimes right in front of him, sometimes when you thought he couldn't see.

But he saw, and he knew. He'd heard you, late that night after training. Heard the two of you noisily entering Kirishima's room, clicking the lock on the door as you'd stumbled to the opposite wall. He'd listened to everything: the telltale sounds of skin meeting skin and coming together. He'd heard both your sweet, pretty voices, desperately trying to keep quiet as foreign waves of feelings coursed through your bodies on the other side of the wall. The thin wall, where every sound was as plain as if the barrier hadn't been there at all.

He should have stopped himself then. He should have given up all hope, closed down all his feelings. He'd laid awake the whole night, thinking about how his two best friends were now seeing each other in this way. You were third years, and having relationships within the class was to be expected. But his best friends? Together? And now it was just him. The sideliner. The outcast. The third wheel. Alone.

He'd been forced to listen. It hadn't been his choice. It was even less his choice when the two of you had approached him the next day, listening one last torturous time to you as Kirishima sheepishly explained that the two of you had become an item. Bakugou pretended like he didn't already know.

He should have stopped hanging out with you, distancing himself as the two of you grew closer. But this had all happened almost four months ago, and he hadn't been able to force himself away from either of you. He couldn't tell if he resented you both or genuinely enjoyed your company.

What did it matter? It was only his stupid emotions, stupid feelings bleeding through his enforced walls. He had other things to focus on, better things. Like being a hero. Training to be at the top of the class, climbing ever higher to surpass All Might and be the number one hero. That was his goal. That was his purpose. It had nothing to do with his idiot, overly supportive best friends—if he could even call you that anymore.

"Your notes?" Eijirou's voice questioned.

"Yeah," Bakugou said. "Where are they?"

"My desk," Eijirou said. "Like always. My door should be open, you could have just taken them."

Bakugou scowled. "Oh," was all he said.

"Hey, we're having a spa night," you piped up.

"I noticed," Bakugou deadpanned.

"Ooh, you should totally join us, Bakubro!" Kirishima's green-caked face slipped into a grin with ease, flashing his ridiculously cute sharp teeth.

"Yeah!" It was your turn to beam, face lighting up in your smile. "Spa night for three!"

Just the three of you. That sounded wonderful. And also absolutely terrible.

Bakugou scoffed. "You're not going to get me to do your childish nonsense. I need to go study. And then sleep."

"The gren-nerd returns," you said, rolling your eyes. "Come on, Blasty, there is such a thing as too much sleep."

"Yeah," Kirishima agreed. "Besides, it's a Friday night. You have all weekend to do whatever. Have some fun with us and lighten up for a change!"

Katsuki glared at you, hovering inside the door frame. You smirked and began pumping your fists in front of you, maintaining eye contact with him.

"Spa night, spa night, spa night—" Your voice took on a low, stage whispered chant, and soon Kirishima joined in next to you.

"Spa night! Spa night! Spa night—!"

"Fucking dammit," Bakugou finally said, slamming the door shut behind him and stomping over to where you were sitting in the middle of your floor. He hurled himself down into a sitting position, trying to make every possible inch of his body language convey that he didn't want to be here. "You're just a pair of idiots and losers."

"I refuse to be cast down by your simplistic labels and insults," you said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. "Gimme your face. Now."

Bakugou jerked his head back from you, even though you technically hadn't even reached for him yet. "What are you going to do?" he asked suspiciously.

"We must start with the face mask. Eiji, go get him a headband."

"A what?! I am not—"

"Yes, you are," you said firmly. "Unless you want to go take another shower to get it all out of your hairline, because, trust me, it gets everywhere."

Kirishima came back and flopped back down beside you, handing over a fuzzy, pink and white fabric headband with small bear ears stitched onto the side. Bakugou looked from it to the ones you were wearing. You donned a sparkly pink unicorn themed one, decorated with a horn, ears and a fluffy puff of a mane. Kirishima wore one that was very similar to the headband you were now holding, except his was black and white, clearly panda themed.

Katsuki pointed at Eijirou's head. "I want his."

The redhead blinked. "What?"

"Yours is cooler and not pink. I want that one."

You sighed. "Katsuki, it doesn't matter."

"I'm not wearing pink!"

"What's wrong with pink?" Eijirou asked.

"It's too girly!"

"Hey, pink can be a manly color," Kirishima argued. You nodded your head in agreement.

"Then why aren't you wearing it?" Bakugou shot back.

Eijirou blinked. "I, uh—um—"

"See, you don't want to wear it either!"

"That's not—!"

Bakugou lunged towards Kirishima, grabbing at the item keeping his red bangs pushed off his forehead.

"AAH—hey! It's gonna smear—!"

The boys took a moment to scuffle, Eijirou desperately trying to hold back Katsuki's arms as they grabbed at him. You took a moment to look into an invisible camera like you were on The Office, heaving a sigh.

"Alright, that's enough." You pulled Katsuki off your boyfriend by the back of his shirt collar, shoving the pink headband into his hand. "You can either wear the headband, or you can let it get in your hair. Eijirou was here first, so that one's his. Got it?"

Bakugou donned his 'I just bit into a lemon' face, spitting out a "tch" before reluctantly putting it on his head, pulling it up so his forehead was on display.

You noticed the ears were a bit off kilter, leaning a little too far to the left. It set off a tic in your face, making you reach over and straighten it out. You couldn't help but notice how Bakugou froze when your hands and face came nearer to his own, breaths stuttering and slowing to a stop. You sheepishly finished adjusting it, sitting back when you were satisfied.

In all honesty, you'd tried to ignore Bakugou's shift in behavior around you. He was as abrasive and irritable as ever, but there was something in the way you'd noticed him looking at Kirishima. You'd gotten briefly jealous until you realized he often acted the same around you. You told yourself to pay no heed to it, and now certainly wasn't the time to be sorting out and guessing at the feelings of your emotionally closed-off best friend.

"If either one of you takes my picture like this," Bakugou said. "I'm gonna fucking kill the both of you."

"Sure."

You glanced over and made eye contact with Eijirou. One of you had to do just that without him noticing by the end of the night. He was simply too cute not to; the pink matching his ash blond hair just right.

You tore your gaze away from Katsuki. I have a boyfriend right here, who I love very very much, you reminded yourself.

That much was true. Maybe you weren't allowed to order off the menu anymore, but it couldn't hurt to take another glance.

"Alright," you announced. "I'm getting the face mask back out." You got up and walked to your felt storage container of toiletries, grabbing the same green tube and package of face wipes you'd used only minutes prior.

"So why the fuck do you have three of these?" Bakugou asked, referring to his newly acquired pink ears.

"Sleepovers, duh. Also there was a sale and they're really cute and cheap, so there."

Bakugou let out another tch as you sat back down in front of him. You pulled out a wipe and began to work at his face, removing any oils that might have gotten on there throughout the day.

"Relax your face," you ordered, and Bakugou surprisingly complied. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep doing that. You know, the whole frowny thing."

"You sound like my mother, dumbass," he commented, keeping his lips turned down in a frown.

"Well, your mother is right."

"Feh."

You ignored his dismissive noise. "You have really nice skin, you know," you commented, moving back to your seated position and tossing the wipe in the general direction of your trash bin. "Do you have a routine? I found out today that Eijirou doesn't so that's what got us started."

The redhead shrugged behind you, having taken out his phone while you tended to Bakugou.

"Um, I wash it sometimes," Bakugou admitted. "My mom said something about how our sweat helps keep it clear, but she still sends me stuff every now and then."

"Neat." You sighed. "Wish my sweat actually helped my skin. Other than, you know, keeping it cool and whatever."

You took the tube from the floor next to you, popping the cap open and squeezing some onto your fingers.

"What is that stuff?"

"Avocado oatmeal clay mask," you said, glancing at the label. "Purifying."

"Huh."

You leaned forward again on your knees in front of him, beginning to spread the green paste over his cheeks and forehead like you'd done to Kirishima.

"I'm not a baby, you know," he protested. "I can do it myself."

"Oh, come on," you countered. "It's fun having your friends take care of you. Just let me do this."

Bakugou sighed through his nose. He had to admit, there was a teeny tiny part of him that liked how close you were, the way your fingers glided over his cheeks and forehead.

But you had a boyfriend. A very sweet, loving, cheerful boyfriend. He was yours and you were his, and Bakugou was . . . unavailable. He'd stay yours and Kirishima's friend, and he'd just have to accept it.

You finished fixing up his face, going back to your criss-crossed sitting position and wiping your fingers off with a tissue.

"Now what?" Bakugou asked.

"We can wash it off in about ten minutes, we just have to wait for it to dry."

Bakugou sat back, assessing the sensation of the mask on his face. It was cold and sticky, but he had to admit it smelled good. He'd never done anything like this before, and the tiniest part of him actually didn't hate it.

You started talking about a meme you'd seen on Instagram, and you laughed with Kirishima. You both were cute in your face masks and headbands. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but maybe Katsuki would be willing to sit through something like this again if it meant seeing you both like this.

You sat back and seemed to go into thought for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do next. "Eijirou, let me see your nails." He presented them to you, his face questioning. You studied his cuticles, clicking your tongue. "Imma get you some nail oil. We could probably all use some."

You got up again and grabbed the little bottle, twisting off the cap and beginning to brush the liquid onto your boyfriend's nails.

"What does that do, exactly?" he asked, watching you concentrate.

"Strengthens your nails," you explained. "Keeps them hydrated so they won't crack and break off so easily."

"Look at that Bakugou!" Kirishima proudly proclaimed. "I’m gonna have strong, manly nails!"

You giggled, beginning to blow on them so the solution would soak in and dry faster.

"Babe, I just realized something," Kirishima said.

"Yeah?"

"We look like Shrek."

You looked up at him, his face caked in the solid green mask, then turned your gaze to Bakugou. "You know, I wasn't going to say anything, but, yeah, we totally do."

You both started cracking up again, and Eijirou laid down on the floor as he laughed. He had the sweetest laugh, the absolute best. You provided hefty competition, however; your slightly higher voice adding to your own pretty sound.

"No hate on my mans Shrek, though," Kirishima said, sitting back up as his audible joy died down a bit.

"Shrek is love, Shrek is life," you said, nodding your head solemnly.

"I thought I was love. For you." Kirishima's expression changed to puppy eyes, pretending to be more hurt than he was.

"Uh, yes. But I've known Shrek longer than you, so he represents life."

"What the fuck, guys."

You both ignored Bakugou's comment, proceeding to bicker.

"But he doesn't love you like I do," Kirishima argued.

"He's shrekxy."

"I—" Kirishima blinked, shaking his head a little in bewilderment.

"Fite me, it's a scientific fact."

Instead, Kirishima turned his gaze to the blond, who was watching the full affair with barely concealed intrigue. "Bakubro, I'm getting jealous of a fictional 2-D green swamp ogre. I think my girlfriend is going to leave me for him."

"Actually he's 3-D," you corrected.

"See?" Kirishima exaggeratedly gestured at you in mock offense. "She doesn't appreciate me anymore for who I am. I'm going to rebound to you, Katsu."

Bakugou stiffened at the proposal. He knew it was just a joke, but now he couldn't get the thought out of his head of actually being with Kirishima. Allowing his hand to grasp his. Placing a kiss on the boy's cheek. Waking up next to him in the morning. Was that his problem? He wanted what you had with Shitty Hair? Or did he want what Kirishima had with you?

"Like I'd ever date you!" Bakugou finally spat, after maybe a bit too long of a pause. "You're a dumbass idiot, just like your girlfriend. You two are perfect for each other!"

Both you and Kirishima blinked at Katsuki's outburst, turning to make eye contact.

"Thank . . . you?" you said, unsure if you should take it as a compliment.

You were both used to Bakugou being brash and loud, often yelling insults he probably didn't mean. But this was a bit unusual, even for him.

What is going on with you, Katsuki?

You sat back and made a little "pthbb" sound with your lips, taking the cuticle oil and starting to apply it to your own nails.

"So when are you going to go back to rubbing my back?" Eijirou asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Or is that only for Shrek?"

You snorted. "I love you, Eiji. I'd give you a kiss on the cheek to prove it, but you've got some artificial avocado there."

Bakugou's frown shifted a bit. At least the masks were good for one more thing.

"Where?" Eijirou teased, feeling at his face as though it wasn't slathered in a thick layer of green paste.

"Ha ha," you said dryly. "I'll go back to personal masseuse-ing after we wash these off."

"When's that?"

You leaned over and tapped at Bakugou's face, finding his still a little moist. "Five minutes," you wagered.

Eijirou started a conversation about training, lightheartedly arguing with Bakugou over one of his techniques.

You watched the nuances of how the two interacted. They'd been friends for so long, they just sort of flowed together and bounced off each other perfectly. Kirishima was clearly more physical, wrapping an arm around Bakugou's shoulders or touching him on his arm or his back. Bakugou never yelled about this like he would with probably anyone else, instead choosing to silently glower while Eijirou finished his thought.

Finally it was time for the masks to be washed off, the three of you crowding around the sink in your cramped bathroom. Eijirou helped you wipe yours away first with some damp paper towels, delighting in being so close to you and your beautiful face. Bakugou opted to simply wash his own off in the sink, splashing cold water over his cheeks. He watched the little green flakes and chunks swirl down into the drain, some of them catching stubbornly on the porcelain surface.

He straightened and looked at his newly washed face in the mirror. He didn't look or feel any different, sans the fuzzy pink bear ears that still wrapped around his forehead. Bakugou tugged them off, stepping away from the sink so Kirishima could take his own turn in washing.

The blond watched the both of you finish up, Eijirou rubbing gently at his face while you patted toner into yours. There was something so mundane about it, even in your tight closet of a toilet space. He liked the little smile you took on as you gently slapped liquid onto your cheeks, and how Eijirou squeezed his eyes shut and gave little shakes of his head to escape from the rivulets of water streaming over his features.

Kirishima stood back up, taking a look at himself in the mirror much like Bakugou had done moments before. "Wait a minute—I still have acne!" He leaned in and closer examined a small cluster of raised bumps.

"Of course you do, ya goof," you said, snickering and setting down your bottle of toner. "It's just a clay mask. If you want magic, use calamine lotion overnight. That should do the trick."

"Why didn't we do that instead?"

"Because these are more fun. And a lot shorter."

Eijirou shrugged and pulled his own headband off, soft red bangs falling over his eyes. Katsuki took a second to admire it. What would it feel like under his fingertips? He wondered for a brief moment how soft it truly was before he ripped his eyes away again. No. No. NO.

"So are you going to rub my back again?" Eijirou asked, puppy-dog eyes shining at you hopefully.

"Maybe later," you said, sliding your headband over your head and undoing your hair. "Right now it's Katsuki's turn. And mine, if it's not too much trouble."

Kirishima sighed tragically, slumping forward. You grinned and went up behind him, rolling the pads of your thumbs into his shoulder blades. He tilted his head back, sighing and closing his eyes at the feeling.

"Babyyy," he said, drawing out the last syllable. "Don't tease me like that."

You giggled and kissed his shoulder. "I'll get back to you soon enough, just be patient."

Bakugou watched the two of you yet again. He had a strange feeling like this was more complicated for him than it should be. Why couldn't he just pick one of you to hate more than the other and move on? Why couldn't he decide which one of you he would rather be in your situation?

"Yo, Katsu," you said to him, bringing him out of his own head. "Get over here." You had sat yourself back down on the floor in the middle of your room, and Kirishima was stationed behind you.

Bakugou walked over and flopped down in front of you, unsure of what to expect.

"Lay down perpendicular to me," you said, tapping his shoulder.

"What? Why?"

"You'll relax more. Do it."

The blond grumbled a bit more before turning himself and laying down on his stomach. "Happy, dumbass?"

"Indeed." You began to work at his shoulders through the barrier of his shirt. Behind you, your boyfriend did the same, running his large hands over the muscles on your back. "How often do you get this done?" you asked the boy under you.

"What? A massage?" Bakugou was really trying to ignore how good your fingers felt on him, pushing and applying pressure in places he didn't even know he needed.

"Yeah."

"Never," he admitted.

"Wait, what?" Eijirou said from behind you.

"Yeah, how?" you asked, stilling your hands. Bakugou resisted the temptation to squirm under you to get you to resume what you had been doing. "That can't be good what with all the training you do."

"I have those foam rollers," he said. "They work just fine."

"Aw, come on," Kirishima said. Bakugou was glad his face was more or less planted on the floor so he wouldn't have to look up at him. "It feels so much better when you have someone else do it for you."

"Tch."

"Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki," you tsked, going back to your motions on him.

The blond quietly sighed through his nose, allowing himself for a moment to sink into the feeling of your fingers dancing over his muscles. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, it felt really nice. He was surprised at how skilled you were, alternating between your thumbs and your knuckles to provide the most pressure, working out tension as you went along. Your hands, which were so small compared to his and his friend's.

Maybe he was starting to like this a little too much.

You and Eijirou had picked up another conversation about nothing. Bakugou was more than content to zone in and out of it, picking up on your even voices. He listened to the little breathy sighs you'd let escape as the redhead pushed into your back much like you were doing to Katsuki. They were almost too cute, and the more he was left in his own mind, the less comfortable he became.

He began to shuffle under you, a part of him wanting to get up and leave, another willing himself to stay.

"You comfortable, Bakugou?" you asked him. "Want a pillow or something?"

The way you'd said his family name; Bakugou. He was an outsider. He shouldn't be here. He pushed himself up from the floor and out from under your hands.

"Woah," Kirishima said. "Where you going, man?"

"I need to leave." Bakugou rammed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and turned to your door.

"Wait, are you okay?" you asked, moving to get up too. "Did I do something wrong?"

Bakugou ignored you, adjusting his black t-shirt as he flung your door open and shut behind him.

You slumped back into Eijirou in defeat. "What is going on with him?" you lamented, eyes glued to the closed door.

Your boyfriend rested his chin on the top of your head, pondering as you pressed into him. "I have no idea. He's been acting weird for a while . . . . Could it be something going on at home?"

Your eyebrows scrunched a bit in thought. "I don't know about that. Do you think it could be us?"

Kiri shifted himself so he could lean in and look at your face inquisitively. "What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "It's just that . . . you and I are together and he's . . . alone. I mean, we're still friends, but he might feel . . . left out."

"Ohhh." Kirishima sat back again, pulling you further into his chest. "What should we do?"

You sighed, curling up against his bare skin. "I don't know."

...

Bakugou sat, finally alone in his room. What was happening? What was going on? What was wrong with him?

He hated this, these new feelings. The jealousy he felt whenever you and Kirishima were close and he was left to the side. He wanted to join you, feeling your arms wrapped around him and Eijirou's kiss on his cheek.

But he would never be able to.

Surely, you both would hate him if he said anything. You'd think he was just being sad and greedy, maybe even a creep. It would completely destroy your relationship with him, and he'd lose the two best friends he'd ever had.

Katsuki's bed dipped beneath him as he sat down onto it, placing his head in his hands. Infinite loops of yes and no spiraled forever around in his brain, willing him to just do something.

But he couldn't. There was nothing he could do. He'd have to choose either parting ways with you both or just feeling this way . . . forever, keeping it to himself. He was tired of it already. He wanted the feelings to go away. He wanted to stop hurting like this and being so confused. His rational mind told him to just turn and leave. It made sense. He'd be able to focus fully on his ambitions and become the best hero ever. And yet a tiny, stubborn little part of him knew, just knew that he wouldn't be able to go. There was something between the three of you, and even the tsundere-lord Bakugou Katsuki couldn't ignore it.

He laid back on his bed, closing his eyes. In the dark, he listened. But this time there was no sound. His mind wouldn't rest however, racing and screaming and hurting. It would be hard, but Bakugou would have to do it.

This would all just have to be his big secret.

⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙

[Little Secret]

[Disclosed]

Author’s Note:

No happy ending?? Well guess what, this is a three-parter. The epilogue/sequel/part three will be purely Kiribaku(+you) fluff, so get ready for that. I know I am!! Also remember Little Secret exists. CUDDLES!! and TICKLES!! YES!

Thanks for reading,

-Sugar

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​​ @nabo39​​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sokkasangel​​ @xoxopam4​​

[woozisnoots]

light up kicks | lee chan

° pairing: chan x reader ° genre: fluff ° summary: an unexpected ‘visit’ at chan’s first day at work. ° word count: 1153 ° warning: none! ° a/n: thank you to @cha-lan​ and @interludeshadow​ for beta reading !! biggest hugs and kisses to you both <3 and hbd to the one and only lee chan B)

masterlist!

okay, it’s your first day. obviously, they don’t expect you to be perfect. but then again, you’re also just passing out shoes… so leave little room for error or else that would be so, very incredibly embarrassing. like, come on? what can possibly go wrong?

it was wrong for chan to think that friday night would be anything other than busy. as a first-timer handing out shoes (really his first time working at all), chan was not prepared to work one of the hardest shifts on his first day.

kim’s bowling stones is known all throughout town, and better yet - they’re notorious for their mind-blowing, great deals. on fridays, every kid and teen come from far and wide to experience one hour of bowling for unlimited tokens at their arcade.

and not only are every mother and uncle get lured in by such an offer, but also a certain someone chan isn’t expecting to see.

“can i have size six shoes, please?”

spoke too soon. not to jinx it, but- everything might go wrong.

chan mentally smacks the back of his head. duh, of course, you’re gonna be here! he isn’t as much of a bowling fanatic as his coworkers, but as cliche as it sounds - and yes, it makes many people laugh, chan landed this job because of you.

well, maybe not directly. you didn’t know chan at all. the times chan could go out with his friends on the weekend were always spent at the bowling alley out of convenience. none of his other friends knew how to drive, and chan avoided the freeway as much as possible for his “passengers’ safety.” the place was only about three blocks away from his house anyways.

yes, chan knows of you, but he doesn’t know enough about you to think you’d also be there. and the day after, and the day after that. no, each passing day doesn’t help him to get used to you within a few feet away when he was used to being a few meters from where you stood up in the ‘cool kid table’ as people would call it.

tonight is also no exception; it doesn’t make things easier. in this moment, chan could feel the beads of sweat forming on the corners of his hairline and the calluses on his hands from gripping under the counter too hard.

wait fuck, did i ever respond back?

“oh yeah!” chan’s voice suddenly changes, lowering his tone. he ruffles his bangs forward to cover his forehead, mostly in an attempt to distract you from how awkward his stature is, not at all to try and make himself look good now that you’re up close. “i’ll go get that from the back for you.”

now, this may not seem like a big deal  to anyone else, but to chan, it means everything. in every coming-of-age teenage movie, the not-so-popular nerd (whichever breed they may be) ends up with the astonishingly popular main lead—the one everyone knows and loves—so this is chan’s moment!

chan comes back, hands clammy and wet, hoping that none of the residue transferred to the actual shoes. “here ya go!”

okay, maybe the moment is a little more short-lived than chan expected, but this is a good start.

that is until he hears the light tone of your voice come back in hesitation, rather than the thank you he’d been expecting.

“uhh, chan?” this is the first time hearing his name fall from of your mouth, and now he’s embarrassed for two reasons, not knowing which one is worse.

however, the responsible side of his right hemisphere steps up first. “oh shoot, is that not the color you wanted?” chan says, clearly aware that he knows the ins and outs of the small shoe rack corner of the entire facility. “dammit, i should have known. i’ve seen you play a few rounds on the weekends before, and i- i don’t mean to sound at all creepy, but you actually prefer the light up purple shoes over the blue ones.” as soon as the words leave his mouth, chan already knows he’s said way too much. after only a few minutes, your first impression of chan probably resembles that of a creep. “sorry about that! let me just-”

“no, that’s not it all!” you’re quick to say, noticing the distressed, flustered look on his face. “the color is lovely. it’s  just that-” chan prepares for the worst, even though at this point, he already bears the weight of this unfortunate incident. “i think you gave me the kid’s sizes instead.”

yup, everything is definitely going wrong.

“i am so sorry! i’ll go ahead and change those out for you.”

stupid. stupid. stupid.

nothing more as embarrassing than when it happens in front of your crush. that’s not an actual saying, though it sure as hell should be. from the back of the storage room, chan grieves the deepest of sighs and slumps his head on the nearest cabinet.

“here you go, i got you the purple ones to make up for it,” chan shyly nudges the shoes towards you, keeping his head down so his bangs at least hide the tips of eyelashes. out of all the things that could have happened, today just isn’t chan’s day.

“thank you very much,” you say with a smile and a nod to the head. thank goodness you are alone at the booth—who knows what rumours would have started to circulate at school if anyone had seen this unfold.

chan watches as you carefully sort your things and proceed to grab the shoes from the booth. he holds in the heavy sigh at the back of his throat when he sees you turn your head back towards him.

“if giving me a smaller pair of shoes is your way of telling me that you think i’m cute,” chan almost laughs at the statement; not at you, of course. this isn’t exactly the stop-motion, picture-perfect confession episode of iCarly he longed it to be. “i think you’re also pretty handsome.”

chan barely manages to save his hand from slipping off the counter, placing his free hand at the edge to catch his balance after hearing your words. his surroundings are disoriented at this point, alongside his peripherals, which are now starting to blur. shaking his head, chan babbles incoherent sentences to no one in particular, realizing you were no longer there, leaving him to rethink and sort out his thoughts.

scratch that, maybe everything just turned out right?

the job slows down as the night progresses, but you remain there until late. even in the midst of massive crowds of needy children and demanding parents, chan notices the subtle, stolen glances from across the bowling aisle. and again from the skee ball machine. then one last time at the exit, along with a smirk and a wink.

yeah. yeah, i think it did.

[buryyourfavouritestrope]

Goodnight - Soryu Oh

Author Note: So I played some Otome games randomly and one of them was Kissed By The Baddest Bidder. Interesting plots. Soryu was one of my favourites, so was Shuichi. Anyway, enjoy this maybe. A little suggestive at points. Also just straight uploaded not checked yet.

On any other day Soryu would’ve avoided the establishment; he despised the heavy stench of alcohol blended unevenly with a few of Mamaru’s cigarettes. He’d suffer once he returned to the sanctity of his room for the evening, he could already feel the scent clinging to the insides of his nose. Soryu would hold this against his friends for a while; even if neither of them had forced him to come. His body had moved of its own accord the second the young maid had shone a bright smile and asked if he was joining them.

The Ice Dragon had situated himself on the opposite side of the table from her, if it had been a possibility, he would have sat on a bar stool beside the bar. Instead, he suffered sat besides, what could only be called, the useless Detective. Perhaps Soryu had been to harsh in that thought, Kishi may be lazy but he’d helped Inui out of a spot of bother a few times. The Dragon couldn’t help the sparks of Envy that had lodged in his chest once again, albeit for a different reason, as he pondered on Kishi. No-one could blame Soryu, Mamoru held the second thing that Soryu could never have.

After a while the Auction Managers had dispersed, each going their separate ways as they bid farewell for the night. A few a little more than tipsy as they staggered by the many bar patrons. Baba had been the first to leave; a charismatic grin on his face as he promised to do this again before following a rather scantily clad woman out of the bar. Ota and Mamoru had been the next to go, a exasperated Detective wrapping an arm under Ota to support his drunken frame. With those three gone it had left Soryu with a nonchalant Eisuke and a close to tipsy maid. He should have left after Baba; it had been his intention to go but the young maid had started to speak to him and so effortlessly he had found himself lost as they conversed. They hadn’t even noticed when Eisuke had left; and that thought had made the blood in Soryu’s body run cold.

“What about those two?” Came a partially slurred voice, the syllables gently tore the man from his thoughts. His ever-observant gaze falling briefly to the woman. She’d stayed; the second they’d both realised Ichinomiya abandoned them she had chosen to stay and so had he. Soryu convinced himself that his presence was for Eisuke. He was staying to make sure she didn’t embarrass the man or cause any more trouble than she had since the Auction. It hadn’t been because Soryu had noticed the several less than sober men whose eyes lingered on her for a little too long when she went to order herself another drink, nor had it been because her presence beside him soothed his stress-riddled body.

Soryu lifted his gaze from his companion to gaze at the pair situated in a booth by the entrance. A rather thin salaryman with comedically thick rimmed glasses and a sort of awkwardness in his actions that rivalled a nerdy schoolboy sat across from another scantily clad woman. Her fingers danced around the rim of her glass as she watched the man with vague interest. Every so often she would lean further forward allowing the salaryman a clearer view of her cleavage.

“He’s a nerd and she’s an escort” Oh commented idly, he reached for his seventh whisky of the evening, relishing briefly as the liquid seeped down his throat. Normally he would stop at four and switch to a light beer but then again, he would never have been out drinking for this long unless he was making a deal. As he placed the, now, empty glass back on the table he reminded himself that he should’ve left before Eisuke.

“Soryu that’s not how you play the game” She chuckled a little as she finished the rest of her own drink. Her fingers danced around the rim of her own glass as she hugged it against her chest. At some point she had slithered into the seat beside him, and he could smell the lavender that swam through the air around her, offsetting any other smell from the establishment.

He’d frozen. His mind replaying the same word in her voice as though trying to retain how the syllables had rolled from her tongue in that innocent tipsy tone of hers. She’d never called him by his name before. It had always been ‘Mr. Oh’ or ‘Sir’. Never Soryu as much as he had craved it. He’d have told her if it hadn’t been for his pride. If he hadn’t wanted to save himself from being teased by Baba or Ota.

“You’re supposed to say something like. She’s asking him to buy her cat.” She whistled, another sip of her drink and Soryu caught the gaze of the bartender. In a brief flick of his wrist, the Bartender nodded. “But he’s allergic to cats, so she’s offering herself with the cat but he’s just waiting for the other members of his DnD club.” Soryu couldn’t help the soft chuckle that tore through his throat. “Do that again, I like that sound.”

Her drunken words meant nothing currently, yet it didn’t stop the warmth from dusting Soryu’s cheeks. The Ice Dragon caught the way she began to rock sideways, and he was certain that the room was spinning around her; so as the bartender set down a tray of coffee, Soryu placed his arm on the back of their seat, it was a precaution to keep her on the cushioned bench. He inched closer to her – just to make sure she had something to keep her propped up. Not because he wished she would fall towards him. Or so in that moment he could hold her.

“Ok, how about he’s a police officer in disguise, and she’s a widower. They matched on a dating app whilst he was trying to get closer to a drug ring. She guessed the code correctly and he wants to arrest her, and she just wants to get her rocks off. Two crossed wires.” Soryu smirked. Stifling her laughter, she placed hand in front of her mouth. She shifted in her seat, her leg brushing against his, an innocent action that had Soryu’s muscle tensing and his mind malfunctioning. The ever-composed Ice Dragon felt pathetic – she could reduce him to dust with just a smile and they hadn’t even known each other that long, not before the man had fallen for her soothing presence.

“Better…who next….?” She sighed, her head roaming the other patrons. Soryu lifted his coffee to his lips, the liquid lingering on his tastes buds as he revelled in the bitter drink. The second it hit the back of his throat he felt the caffeine kick in, doing its best to rid him of the alcohol coursing through his system. “Him” she practically beamed pointing to the bar.

For a second, he wondered if she meant the bartender, who stood cleaning an already immaculate wine glass, but then his gaze just skimmed a man hunched over his drink. He was younger than the other patrons, his dishevelled brown hair damp from what Soryu assumed was the rain outside. A hefty sigh masked the mumbles that came from the bartender, and for a second Soryu recalled a face in his mind’s eye. Especially when he caught sight of the glasses that sat beside the man’s drink, he paired them with the off brown three piece that adorned the man’s body and it suddenly occurred to him, just who he was looking at.

“That’s Shuichi’s and Eisuke’s love child. See the bartender doesn’t like him, clearly, he has the aura to get on everyone’s nerves just from his presence alone, probably from Eisuke, but arguable from Shuichi too. Then there’s the hair, the poor eyesight, and that sigh.” Soryu announced.

The room fell silent before hysterical laughter rang out. Soryu almost jumped at the sound as it resonated in his ears. She wrapped her arms around her body as she struggled to compose herself or even breathe. A grin spread through Soryu’s features, as they ignored the quizzical looks from the other customers. Even from the love child whose scowl imitated Shuichi so well that the woman’s laughter doubled.

“I bet…” She paused, inhaling deeply, “I bet he’s sad because his dads are fighting so he left after coming all the way to Japan to see them. Maybe he went to Dubai first to look for Shuichi but when he found out that he came to Japan he followed. Poor guy. Don’t worry sir, your dads will stop fighting soon” She shouted the last of her sentence. Soryu hushed her, sending the man an apologetic smile.

“Here. Have some coffee” He uttered. The mug remained untouched, her body lifting from their shared seat. She stumbled towards the bar, hands gripping the wooden surface tight as she ordered another drink. The bartender, whose eyes flew between her and Soryu, nodded before handing her a glass of what Soryu knew would be water. The mafia boss had slipped some money to the bartender when he had delivered his coffee, a silent look passed between the two men in a wordless contract to cut her off.

Soryu had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the pair of legs now stood in front of his coffee. He lifted his gaze carefully, cautious not to linger on any places he shouldn’t. She grinned down at him, rocking on her feet to keep herself steady.

“Look Sor, I’m taller than you now” She giggled. The nickname held an effect on him that he was too ashamed to admit to. The Mafia boss stood his hand hovering in the air before he turned around.

“Get on, it’s time we left” He announced; he bent slightly at the knees whilst he waited. She took a moment to understand what he meant, her body all but jumping onto his back. She hung her arms around his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. Neither of them missed the way her body shivered the second he placed his hands under her thighs, or the way his body seemed to relax further.

To any outside observers they looked like a couple, a boyfriend who had come to collect his drunk girlfriend carrying her back to their room. Especially with the way she grinned, every so often blowing on the shell of his ear. The action would have Soryu jolting slightly, his fingers squeezing her thighs in a false warning. The Ice Dragon Leader wore a softened expression, a small smile gracing his usually frowning features.

“We should tell Mr Ichinomiya and Mr Hishikura to kiss and make up so their son can have his family back. He looked so sad; I wonder what Mr Ichinomiya did.” She mumbled, her voice seemed quieter now and she slurred her words a little less. A soft rumble in Soryu’s chest alerted them both to just how entertaining the idea of waking Eisuke up to tell him his fake son was waiting for him was.

“Maybe not tonight. I don’t think Eisuke will be too impressed” Soryu laughed. The woman fell silent even as she continued to blow on Soryu’s ear or tap her fingers against Soryu’s chest. What he had failed to notice in her silence was her reaction to his laugh. He’d only chuckled earlier, and yet the soft exhale that could barely be called laughter had the maid craving for more. “Ok, I need to put you down now” He added as they stepped inside the Penthouse elevator.

She didn’t move to release him, in fact she tightened her hold on the man, her legs wrapped tighter around his waist as she buried her head into the crook of his neck. He could feel the pout she wore, especially as her lips skimmed the skin on his neck. He moved his head away from her, a small shudder running through his body as he gazed at her through his peripheral.

“The elevator card is in my pocket; I can’t reach with you on my back.” He informed her; she continued to pout, shaking her head a little. A mischievous spark in her eyes startled Soryu as he felt her press further against his back, her fingers running down her chest towards his jacket pocket. His eyes closed struggling to maintain his composure until he felt the soft prick on his check. He peeked through a crack in his eyelid to see the familiar white key card.

“Here you go” She beamed, “Now onwards Sor.”

Mentally he was scolding himself, he should’ve told her – forced her to get off him. Anyone else and he would’ve. He’d done it many times in the past, each with a different drunk woman who would remember little of Soryu’s kindness and forever wind up hating him for his harshness the next morning. He should’ve left when Baba left.

He stood there, in the middle of the penthouse longue, unsure of where to put her. He couldn’t walk up the stairs and dump her on Eisuke. Not with his ill-temper when he gets disturbed. Nor could he leave her on the couch, not with the wandering hands of both Baba and Ota. He couldn’t think, not with her head resting in the crook of his neck, her breath gliding across his skin eliciting goosebumps in its wake. He shook his head as he headed towards his own suite. She’d stay in the spare bed tonight, if Eisuke hadn’t removed it already. Soryu would leave her there and make his way to his condo for the rest of the night. By the time he reached it, he’d have just enough time to shower and go to the Ice Dragon’s headquarter.

This wasn’t her first time in his suite, and much to his dismay he hoped it wouldn’t be the last. She’d cleaned the room many times before, but this was the first time that he willingly brought her to the room. The first time he had placed her on the bed. He was a statue by the bed; watching as she hid her face with her hands. Her clothing hung dishevelled on her body, her skirt rising just high enough to have Soryu’s mind wondering. He’d imagined her many times in his bed, and he wished he could say those thoughts had remained in the dead of night at his condo, but often he found himself fantasizing during his meetings with Eisuke. The Ice Dragon Leader would catch her cleaning in her maid uniform – hardly the most scandalous outfit but enough to have his blood racing and his eyes glossing over.

“Do you need anything? Water?” He frowned at himself. He knew the answer already and with that knowledge he’d bring her some water before he left. In the morning he’d send Inui over with some pain medication and perhaps some breakfast to keep her hangover at bay. With that settled he turned to leave. Just as quickly as he had moved, he felt a significantly smaller hand pull at his. His eyes drifting to the fingers that wrapped around his wrist as he let himself be pulled down.

“Don’t go” She paused; her words sounding panicked. “Not just yet” She continued. The simple sentence attacked what little self-control Soryu had left. It’s when his head hits the pillow that the alarm bells ring. A harsh reminder of just how bad things could turn out. At that point he should’ve stopped, told her she was drunk and left immediately. He should have. Yet he remained there, his body turning to lay on his side. Neither spoke, for a while, at least not with words. Soryu’s usually calm eyes roamed every corner of her face, a silent plea. He drank her in as though this would be the last time, he’d see her. Which should Eisuke find them was a very real possibility.

“Hold on” She whispers, breath warm against his face. She reaches out to him. Two fingers gently running over the skin of his forehead as they push back a stray hair. “There much better” She adds. Her hand remained there, it pulls him closer to her and he doesn’t stop the way his body shuffles closer on the bed. He can feel her rubbing her fingers against the skin of his temple. Soryu can feel her breath on his lips, and that on its own is enough to send his heart racing, he can smell the alcohol and the heavenly scent of Lavender. A scent he would forever associate with her, with this. It’s a smell subtle enough not to irritate him. Her fingers run over his hair, and he can’t help the shiver that escapes him. Nor can he stop his eyes from closing as he revels in the sensation. She eats at his control, and he can feel it slipping. He should be scared by just how easily she made him weak, but he’s not.

“I should go,” He mutters, he doesn’t mean these words anymore, “and you should get some rest before we do anything we’ll regret”. He doesn’t move, any conviction in his body went the second her fingers fell from his hair to the nape of his neck. She doesn’t force him to move, its written in her eyes how she feels, especially when he places his hand on her thigh. His fingers rubbing slow circles into her skin.

It’s innocent. The soft caress of her lips on his. She made the first move, he’s painfully aware of that fact but he kisses back regardless. His mind savouring the way her lips move against his, its everything he imagined it to be. The innocence depleting quickly as his mind races with the countless scenarios he imagined in his early morning showers. Her lips tempt him just as much as he tempts her. His hands pulling her body flush against him. Both ignoring the burning sensation in their lungs demanding them to breathe. His hand resting on her thigh rises higher; high enough to feel the material of her underwear.

Her own hands move to his shoulders desperate to rid him of his jacket. It doesn’t take long for the material to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. His lips travel from hers to skin of her jaw, he leaves wet kisses as he turns his attention to her neck. In turn she moves her attention to the buttons of his shirt. He can feel the air stabbing against his overheating chest and the sensation knocks his brain into gear. He’s quick to hear the alarm bells, quicker to release her neck from his torment.

In an instant they both stop, her hands caught in one of his hands whilst his other remains still on her thigh. He inhales attempting to muster some control as he pulls himself off the bed.

“I’m sorry, I can’t” his words end in a pitiful chuckle; aimed at himself. In a reckless moment he had ruined what little closeness they could have. She wasn’t his to hold, to kiss or to touch. She wasn’t his as much as he wished she was. “I better say goodnight before I change my mind” He utters. He casts one last look at her, face red and dishevelled.

The second the door closed behind him; he fell against it. He hadn’t bothered to grab his jacket, nor had he bothered to rebutton his dishevelled shirt. Soryu lifts his fingers to his lips, he can still feel her lips against his, still feel the lingering warmth on his body. He was changing his mind the second he fished for his phone in his pocket. If Inui didn’t answer he’d go back in, deal with the fallout tomorrow.

“Was it everything you’d hope it’d be?” Eisuke’s voice filled the silence. The tight-lipped syllables turned Soryu’s blood to ice. “I do hope it was worth touching what belongs to me. I can see you enjoyed it and this once I’m willing to overlook it for an old friend.” He added.

[fallenrepublick]

hello i have so many thoughts about sunder and this particular one plagues me; you've rescued him from dathomir, and you've taken it slow, letting him adjust to freedom. you want him so badly and you suspect he wants you too, but it still feels like taking advantage, somehow; you're his only link to the rest of the galaxy and you don't want him to latch onto you just because you're the only one there. so even though your heart is rebelling, you try to encourage him to meet other people, pushing him to talk to others, going so far as to point out beings you think he'd find attractive. and sunder is confused, and hurt, and thinks he's done something wrong to make you push him away like this, and spends hours trying to work up the courage to ask you why you're pushing him away.

(on a separate note why are sunder, riot, and brutus called the dlc zabraks? i haven't figured out what the acronym is lol)- 🌱

So I call them that sometimes because like in video games and stuff there's extra content you can get that's not part of the main game and they just call that Downloadable Content or DLC Packs, so they're essentially the DLC characters, since they're not part of the main/important group

Yeah yeah I'm a nerd I know I know

Anyways so

First of all how dare you why would you do this to me

Second of all

Do you have any idea how torn apart this would make him? Can you process the amount of grief that even this small thing would do to him? Think about it this way:

First and foremost, you've spent practically day in and day out with him, something he clearly needed, and by now, something he's used to. He finds himself more confident in your presence, a knowledge that you would never hurt him, and a care for you that not a thing in the galaxy could ever overshadow. You offer small touches, ones to his arms and his face, that he's learned not to shy away from or be shocked by. If anything, he leans into them, warmly smiling at the familiar feeling of your fingers. And in this time, as he learns to show his affection the way he has wanted for so long, he has slept at your side, aware that he is protected, that resting in comfort is an option to him.

You have told yourself that you "suspect" his feelings to be similar to yours, but really, it might as well be common knowledge. It lays in his eyes, and the touches he returns and has even begun to initiate. He has come so very close to kissing you, and you him, before remembering that such things... are not allowed. Not yet.

And despite all of that, you begin talking about others, pointing out those you see in the cities, declaring their traits attractive, claiming offhand that they would be suitable if ever he were searching for a mate. Your touches come with less and less frequency, you slide away when he offers his own. And he's found that he truly can't sleep with the space beside him cold and lonely. Many mornings, you enter the room to find him on the floor instead, as if trying to conform back to what it once was.

How quickly you turned from him, how eager you are to be rid of the extra weight he's placed on your life. Just as he suspected. He wasn't good enough, his best not sufficient. You had wanted the best nightbrother, and yet you had been given him instead, who could never hope to live up to the expectations, could never hold up in comparison to what others could give you.

And he questions what the next step will be. Will you return him to Dathomir if you can't find a suitable place for him soon enough? Will you send him to to highest bidder? His hearts start to ache, start to pull him to the floor. He could ask. He should ask why. But he can't bring himself to. Not yet.

Though, he never has to find that courage, as he feels familiar hands on his back, rushed, fearful whispers of his name as his face is guided up to look at yours. You've denied what your mind had told you, at least for now, following the instincts of your heart. Not that he'd know that.

"I don't want to go..." he says tightly, breaths shallow and quick, a shake to each one, "Please, please, I know I don't have any right to ask this... But... But I don't want to leave you, please don't make me leave you, I-I promise, I promise I'll be good, I'll do better for you, just... just don't send me away..."

You don't understand his pleas, why he'd suddenly become so fearful. "Sunder..." you say, his pleas breaking your heart with every word. "I'm not... making you leave, I just..."

"Then why..." He pauses, unsure if this is allowed. Yet he must know. "Why do you keep pushing me back... trying to make me want to leave...? Whatever it is, I can fix it, I swear I will-"

The realization hits, a harder impact than anything you've ever felt, knowing what you've done. You can't keep yourself from it anymore, you hold his face steady, watching him sadly, almost frantic as you assure him that he's done nothing, that you're the furthest from upset with him than you could ever be.

He frowns, watching you. "Then... what-"

"I love you." You didn't think before saying it, didn't weigh your choices. He had to know. By now, he must. "It's wrong, I know it's wrong... I wanted you to have... a choice, knowledge that I'm not your only option, and I thought if maybe... maybe you fell for someone else, it wouldn't be so difficult."

It's like his mind stops working. Yes, he had loved you. Perhaps from the moment you'd taken him away. But you. You love him. You love him, and you told him you love him. You don't want to send him away, you don't want to be without him, because you love him.

All at once, he forgets himself, forgets the anxieties, the fear, the hesitation before every action. He hugs you, tightly and suddenly, nearly sending you backwards, and though his voice is soft and grateful, relieved and desperate to never let you go, he mumbles against your skin, trying to convince you further.

"It's not wrong, it's not wrong... It's not wrong, because I do love you..."

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

With more articulation, I'm ready to talk about why the push for Lokius simply bothers me, and this can be said for other m/m or w/w ships that fans push to be canon so hard just because they ship it.

It's the framing. The framing that if Marvel doesn't do it (or whatever the brand is), it's because homophobia, and if other fans don't like it/ship it, it's because homophobia (even if they ship other queer ships and are queer themselves.) And the biggest problem with that is that it overshadows the REAL issue of lack of queer representation on screen in mainstream nerd media, especially from big things under the Disney umbrella (Marvel and Lucasfilm/Star Wars, especially.)

It makes it bad that your ship isn't canon instead of bad that there haven't been any queer romances on screen in the MCU.

And like, as a writer myself, I find myself dissecting the stories of other media all the time. I can watch an MCU movie or series and pretty much assess what direction the story is going in by the narrative points they're hitting. I knew Sylki was basically gonna happen (even if just a kiss) because narratively, that's what the show was doing as soon as they had that "what is love" conversation on Lamentis-1. It didn't mean I liked it. But I knew it was happening.

Similarly, there's no romantic undertones to Loki and Mobius. None. For Marvel to make them a couple, it would mean they'd be doing it simply because the two present as men and it would make stans happy. And while there's something to be said for fan service, it would be annoying to watch them cram two guys together who aren't romantic in the slightest. I'd much rather see Loki meet some guy and have the same type of undertones they were giving to Sylvie and form a real bond to where the kiss feels earned and warranted. Not just put him with the nearest man because "he gay lol."

And how you guys are claiming it's being queer that makes you want this is beyond me. It's not being queer that makes you want this. I don't want queer characters that fuck everyone of whatever gender(s) they're attracted to even when it doesn't make sense for them to. I want real love stories. I mean, yeah, sometimes we can have a slut character, because that's fun, too, but that's not even what y'all think Lokius is. You seem to want them to be in love. But why? Because he's the first friend Loki made that isn't through Thor?

I hate that, too, because I hate this idea that queer people cannot have friends of their same gender without wanting to fuck them. IDK how y'all are, maybe y'all are like that, but I almost never have wanted to fuck any of my friends. The only few exceptions have been when I tried to befriend someone I had a crush on (in which case, usually the friendship can't work, really, because I have a crush on them.) I also think it's okay if you can have casual sex with friends, or if you have a friendship that develops into romance, but Jesus, do you people not have friends that you don't want to fuck? I am bi, maybe more pan (gender kind of doesn't matter to me, I guess) and I'm friends with people of all kinds of gender identities and like... I love them as people, which is why they're my friends, but I DO NOT want to fuck them. Especially my closest friend. I talked about her, before, here, but she's like my sister. The thought of fucking her is gross, to me. Not because she's gross, but because it feels incestuous.

Loki shouldn't want to fuck Mobius just because they developed a friendship. And that's very much how it's written on the series. They almost dislike each other (or Mobius is at least indifferent to Loki) and then they become friends.

That's not to mention the power dynamic that exists, there. And I know some of y'all are subs, but yeah, it's a bit gross to imply a sexual relationship with Loki's captor.

But on to Sylki. It sucks that I feel like most of y'all hate Sylki because Sylvie is a girl, and not just because it's bad in other ways. Like, the reasons Sylki is bad have less to do with "it should have been Mobius" and more to do with it being a lazy 1980s action movie plot that should have never happened. I'm not as creeped out by the selfcest (as many of you wouldn't have been if she was a he, I'm almost positive), but what's bad about it is that they couldn't have a strong female lead character without her being the love interest of the main guy. She didn't need to be, especially because she was a Loki variant, anyway. There was no need for it to have romantic undertones, and there was no need for them to kiss. It was sexist more than it was homophobic (and I can't help feeling like y'all are kind of being biphobic in this case. Maybe I'll talk about that, later, but yeah.) It was sexist bullshit. And there's valid criticism that Sylvie is underdeveloped. She's just angry and something for Loki to project affection onto.

I was also hoping they'd do a "found family" type of thing with Sylvie and Loki and let her be like the sister he never knew he needed, but no, they had to go trope and make her the love interest. It was lazy and bad and basically went "If Loki girl, main Loki want bone!"

Basically, having the main character fall for a character just because of their proximity and gender is bad and I hate it (and it would have been bad with Mobius, too, but yeah.)

Both the Mobius and the Sylvie thing also feel kind of racist, to me, because the show has prominent Black women who aren't even presented as desirable to Loki. And y'all, of course, ship him with anyone but the Women of Color. Y'all can pull true love with Mobius out of your ass, but he couldn't possibly fall for the Black women. lol.

Anyway. Not every show needs ships, and this show shouldn't have had any. I hate it. It's bad.

I guess on the biphobia front, I have heard some takes that it's not biphobic because Loki being queer in the MCU which hasn't shown any queer relationships, and Loki being the first openly queer character means they shouldn't have shown him with a woman presenting character. Which, I guess I get where you're coming from... but I have also been in fandoms for a long time and I see mostly girls saying this shit, which is what leads me to feel like it's simply jealousy. It happens all the time when a long-beloved single male character/celebrity suddenly starts dating a woman. Everyone hates it. And like, we haven't seen Loki be with ANYONE in the MCU, because mostly he's been doing villainy and his dating life hasn't been relevant. If the demigod says he's bi, he can kiss a woman. Especially a woman version of himself. Like I said, I hate it for other reasons, but pretending it's because he should have kissed Mobius is utterly delusional. He probably shouldn't have kissed anyone. Not in this series. There was no reason for any canon romance, especially because the show has a season 2 and we'll have time to see Loki develop earned, deserved romance with someone.

I'd much rather see them create a character just to be his boyfriend than have y'all push Marvel into making Lokius canon, which is a nonsense ship that only happened because Mobius is the only prominent male-presenting character before we meet the other Lokis.

My sincere wish is for people to remember that their ships are just ships and to enjoy them without getting all self-righteous about it. I TOLD y'all that Lokius wasn't gonna be canon like 4 episodes back, and here y'all are acting shocked and like Marvel took something from you. NOBODY expected y'all to ship Lokius. It's not even queerbait.

You can make clear arguments as to why Sambucky was queerbait. It's there in undertones in the actual series.

You cannot watch Loki and tell me you thought it was queerbait, unless you think men can't have conversations or hug goodbye without being romantically involved. Which means, in my opinion, that you need to learn about healthy masculinity.

Again, this is not a defense of Marvel. They DO need to let characters be queer, for real, and not just by saying " A bit of both". Like, let Loki be queer. Let Deadpool be queer. Let these queer characters be queer on screen. Yes.

But please stop making it about your ship. I'd rather see a flashback of Loki dating a guy and see him kiss someone he loved back on Asgard than watch y'all force Lokius. Because my queer rep is not about your crackship. It really isn't. And the fact that y'all keep calling us homophobic for not liking your ship REALLY needs to be addressed.

Like, when will y'all stop? I got on Stucky shippers about this shit in the past. All of us gay as hell, too, we just don't like YOUR ship. A lot of us like other queer ships. A lot of us like queer ships in other fandoms, too, and even have queer OCs. YOUR ship just ain't it. Stop forcing it. Literally, most of the ship wars between MCU fans have been queer ship vs queer ship, not really queer ship vs straight ship. Like, the number one Stucky rival ship was Stony. Not Steggy. People are not homophobic for not wanting your ship.

Sometimes it's because they ship something else.

And sometimes, like me, it's because they want something to make sense narratively and not happen for the sake of it happening. It's always better writing to have a character meetcute a new love interest than to magically turn a platonic friendship into a romantic relationship. Like, even when the characters are straight. Like, when Moesha dated Hakeem. It was just weird, even if he was kind of a great boyfriend. He was just supposed to be her friend, and people didn't really like it because it didn't fit narratively.

And that's why ships for the most part should be left to fanfiction, with the exception of a few where fans are right to call out the writers for not making it canon because it's clearly bait (like what happened to Destiel shippers. To see Lokius shippers compare themselves to THAT was so ridiculous. Destiel shippers had a decade of evidence only to be let down by a criminally unfair ending. Lokius shippers saw two men have a deep conversation once and lost their minds.)

Anyway, I'm not saying don't ship Lokius. I don't even hate it, really. I just think it obviously shouldn't be canon, and fans pretending like they were robbed of it is ridiculous. Literally, Ao3 exists for this reason. I will never see Steve fuck Sam Wilson, so I wrote it into my fanfic. I am not mad that they didn't actually date in the main MCU storyline.

[katsukikitten]

Back at it again since tumblr didnt want me in the tags the first time

Bakugou was irritable today. Not that his irritability was anything new but every little thing set his skill crawling. His forearms littered with threatening pops as he bared his teeth to anyone brave enough to look his way. 

He figured the only way to get his agitation out was to hit something, anything.

 So he headed to one of the two closest gyms from his small apartment to blow off some much needed steam. The local 24 hour gym that was open to the public was a no go, not just because it was always over crowded but also because he got banned after cussing out some damn extras who were snapping pictures of him instead of working out like one should. Leaving his only other option to be the agency's "gym". 

When he first set foot into the sorry excuse of a gym he demanded a better upgrade for it, if they expected to keep him and Kirishima in top shape. Otherwise he would begin to look elsewhere considering other agencies were dying to have the newest upcoming pro hero in their rankings. The agency obliged, delivering his expectations and more in less than a week. Guess being in the top five really did have its perks. 

The ash blonde pulls his shiny new coupe into the parking garage and finds a spot closest to the entrance. He grabs for his water bottle from the passenger seat before exiting the car, locking his black beauty as he made his way inside.  He swipes his fob over the keypad before it beeps while flashing green, allowing him entrance to the back door of the basement. Walking past the long corridor of support labs that had long since closed to get to the gym. The rooms illuminated by the low light of locked computers, secrets and redesigns stowed away behind bullet proof glass. 

Nearing the end of the dimly lit hall he spies harsh light flooding onto the linoleum floor, indicating that someone seemed to be collecting some major overtime. From his experiences at UA he figured each room would be filled to the brim with over eager support, eccentrically yelling at one another over specs and improvements, sharing their love of science at a volume much too high for Bakugou's taste. Shortly after his hero debut he discovered just how wrong he was about the support labs. He had needed a 2am, mid shift, costume adjustment so he came here, expecting the place to be brimming with brilliant minds only to find one person still working. 

So it should be no surprise that at 10:30 at night there was one room that was clearly occupied. Still a rare curiosity takes over the hot head as he peeks into the room while passing, wondering if he will catch a glimpse of you again. 

He found you odd, as you seemed to be nocturnal or better yet maybe you didn't sleep at all. No need for it as your hunger for knowledge seemed to outweigh any basic human need.

Bakugou had only seen you a handful of times, here and there in passing towards the gym at all hours of the day and night. Maybe it was just coincidence that he would find you hunched over something with this gleam in your eye as you destroyed and rebuilt the item over and over again.  

He shakes his head, he doesn't get it. Doesn't get why you dedicate so much time when no one else in your department seemed to give as much of a damn as you did. Or maybe he did get it, maybe it was similar to how he pushes himself so he can be number one, except yours was just for intellectual stimulation. 

After an hour and a half of throwing weights and punches around and becoming heavily drenched in sweat, Bakugou finally calls it a night. Gulping water from his water bottle before wiping at the sheen that collected on his forehead. He sighs out, before catching himself in the mirror. Smirking as he flexes, letting go a few pops. Admiring not only his improved physique but also his new hair style. Sides faded but top long, ash strands looking borderline messy, as if someone had just caught him and a lover kissing heavily in a dark hall during a house party, their fingers desperately pulling at his hair. 

He reaches for the ceiling in a grunting stretch as a yawn forces its way out. He leaves the gym, switching off the lights before making his way back to the parking garage. A furrow of his brow as he notices the light to your lab is still on, maybe you had forgotten to kill the light when you left or maybe you were still tinkering away.  Crimson eyes peer into the room, spying you as you begin to stretch. Your eyes latch onto his as he watches your expression go from concentrated to elated. You jump from your seat, causing Bakugou's brow to furrow more before you're flinging open the door and yanking at his wrist.

"Wow what are the odds?! Well I guess they would be around 4.64% considering you don't normally frequent this gym but I should also factor in your recent ban raising it up to.." 

"Oi, shitty woman, quit the nerd talk!" He yanks his wrist from your small, delicate hands. Totally unsure of what your name is and even if he did know it, he would sooner address you with an insult than your family name. 

"Ah I forget, not everyone loves numbers. But still I am quite lucky tonight." You beam up at him, hair threatening to fall loose from its haphazardly shaped bun, "You're just the man I needed to see, Bakugou." 

He isn't sure why but a faint blush creeps to his cheeks, was it your bright smile that threw him so off guard or was it the way your lips formed around his name?

He sucks his teeth, looking away from you with crossed arms. 

"Well I'm sweaty as fuck, so you really don't need me." He huffs but before he can turn on his heel you're clamping cool black metal to his forearms. You guide him to the door to the testing area of your lab, turning his arms this way and that to make sure your measurements are perfect as you ramble on. 

"No! No! That is the perfect condition for this experiment. I've been working on your winter costume since there are deficiencies with your current one. Since you, and I'm sure you already know, sweat less in the winter there needs to be some sort of counter balance to offset the possibility of little to no stored sweat. Preventive measures could be made sure and you collect sweat from previous activities but 'stale' sweat does not ignite as quickly or as violently as fresh sweat. One could argue that using heavier and denser materials could help aid in more sweat production but this risks overheating should a mission need you inside or a rapid change in environment all together outweight any benefit. So not only are these bracers less obnoxious than your gauntlets, no offense, but they collect 56 to even 62% more of expandable sweat compared to the normal 54% all while reducing the amount needed for ignition. Sure my colleagues could say that's a marginal improvement at best but…" Heat radiates off of him in waves, pulling your eye upwards. You're met with a red hot gaze that seems to rake over your skin. An odd chill runs down your spine as you realize your mistake. 

Nerd talk.  And rambling nerd talk at that. 

All the while Bakugou wonders why your hands are so damn cold and yet they feel good, soothing to his warmed skin. Refreshing even as it reminds him of a passing breeze in the summer or hiding in the shade from the sun.

A bit of heat rushes into your cheeks as you suddenly realize how close you are to THE Ground Zero. Someone who you knew so intimately through paper and yet knew nothing about all at the same time. You knew his measurements, the circumference of his head, his biceps, the number of inches around his thighs. Hell, you had them memorized since the big boss upstairs assigned you his costume and accessories well over a year ago. And yet you couldn't even fathom to name his favorite color or favorite food for that matter.

You swallow thickly, clearing your throat as you move on, dropping his deadly hands as you do.

"Ah, anyway, these bracers are designed to help with not only better sweat collection in both summer and winter but to aid in some stealth missions as they make no sound compared to your heavy gauntlets." You smile at him once more causing his stomach to flip before those small icy hands press harshly into his toned hot back, pushing him into the testing chamber behind diamond glass. 

"I just need you to test them. I need to make sure they can withstand your heat and power." With that you shut him away, quickly trotting to the mic on the other side. Pressing the button to speak as he turns his arms over looking at the smooth black material 

"Now, remember, it takes less sweat. So don't go all out!" At first you worry it falls on deaf ears before he gives a nod your way. Suddenly you are in awe of the power house that stands before you as his expression changes from utter agitation to complete determined focus, all with something as simple as a deep breath out. He focuses on producing enough sweat to ignite, calling on his quirk as if it were an extension of himself. Pooling it onto his skin, permeating the air with the slight smell of burnt sugar before he let's go a small pop. 

But the medium sized explosion he had expected was anything but what was produced.  Suddenly the brace on his arm explodes from the pressure as does the diamond glass in the room. Fear grips Bakugou as shards of glass go flying towards you before you flick your wrist harshly.  

The deadly shards bypass you, glistening shrapnel sinks deeply into the tile floor around you like a piece of jagged art.

And yet you seem unphased, delighted even as a manic smile paints your lips before it sours. Eyes noticing that the bracer barely stood up to the challenge. 

"Fuck…the density still cannot withstand the joules output or force that Bakugou is capable of…" A string of murmurs that remind him all too much of Deku as your fingers curl in the air, calling forth the failed experiment with unseen forces. The blonde long forgotten as you hunch over the workbench, going back to square one. 

Crimson eyes dissect your form and actions as you pull various books and tools towards you with the influence of your quirk, hovering around the work space. 

Suddenly you feel heat radiating behind you when normally you're enveloped in the cool air of the air conditioning, kept extra low in the labs to prevent overheating of parts. You look over your shoulder, suddenly remembering the Pro hero who's beginning to wonder why you're in support with a quirk like that. 

"I know, I know. The last bus and train left hours ago. I'll catch them in the morning." You guess at why he's lingering as you wave him off with your hand. He's caught off guard by your statement before he notices the clock, going to open his mouth to scold before snapping it shut. 

Why should he care if you work through the night? What was he gonna do? Offer you a ride when he didn't even know your name? 

He sucks his teeth biting out as he leaves. 

"Just call me when you're ready to test these again." 

Weeks pass and it's as you never left the lab. Glued to the same spot as he tests the product every other week only for you to grow more and more frustrated with each failure punctuated by shattered bracers. 

And every time he enters the lab room he learns something new about you. He can tell when or if you've left the lab for longer than a few minutes by how tidy the space is or lack thereof. A chaotic circle encompasses you filled with random items that you hope will ignite a spark of inspiration. Anything from books to thin sheets of metal and even to soft fabrics that haphazardly lay atop metal tools. Anything one could possibly imagine was probably there, sitting along-side several empty cups that once held iced coffee. He notices the bags beneath your eyes as they darken with each passing week and he's beginning to wonder if you've ever left as he leaves anywhere between 12 to 3am most nights. 

Tonight is no different as he makes his way to the gym at midnight while you're hunched over his bracers. A part of him wants to tell you to stop being an idiot, to rip you from your little stool and drag you to your bed or wherever the fuck you'll sleep as the other part points out 'why do you fucking care?' So he watches silently, eyes fixated on you until he runs out of glass to look through before he locks himself away in the gym. 

Bakugou puts in his black wireless earbuds before cranking his music up, tossing his phone onto a nearby workbench. He stretches this way and that, reaching for the sky as he looks at his form in the mirror, his hard earned V and bottom two abs wink at his reflection beneath his signature black tank top and his black hoodie. 

His fist connects easily with the heavy black bag suspended by a large chain. The sandbag swings back and forth with a creak with each heavy handed blow. Bakugou loses time with each kick and hit thrown at the bag, each passing song fueling his desire to melt his frustration until his hair is plastered to his forehead. He lets out a steadying breath as his heart roars in his chest,he rears his fist back for a final blow backed by a bit of his quirk. It connects with the well worn leather with such force a weak link in the chain snaps as the fabric obliterates, the 200lb bag flies into the mirror behind it. Shards of reflective glass glitter as they rain onto the matted floor. 

"Fuck." He huffs, stretching and turning to the opposite mirror. Sending a quick snap of his tongue out with the caption "Oops" as the background showcases the decimated gym to Kirishima. He picks up his bag, removing his ear buds to be met with the cool air of the hallway. 

Your light is still on causing him to grind his teeth as his phone reads 2:45am. He's angry enough he chooses to avoid looking into your enclosure as he walks past, fearful his sharp tongue will give him away. He misses you perk up, frantically waving for him to come in before you're at the door, flinging it open to yell out much too loudly in the empty halls. 

"Bakugou!" Your voice is hoarse and cracks from disuse before you clear your throat, lightly jogging to catch up to his large stride, "I've done it!" 

He ignores you, lips pursed in a tight line before your cold hand wraps tightly around his wrist. Pulling him back to the lab with eager steps. He rips away his wrist with a growl and follows you reluctantly, you seem unphased by his harsh actions. 

"I've finally perfected it. I'm sure this time. I was looking at it all wrong. Larger surface area does not always equate to better absorption. Not to mention the pressure for the explosions beneath the bracer is what was causing the failure in the first place. A marginal error that I should have caught earlier. This new design covers less than 15% of your skin but increases…." You ramble but it all falls on deaf ears. 

Bakugou sees that your hair is so loose in its ponytail it might as well be down. The bags beneath your eyes weigh heavy on your pretty features, your skin showing signs of dehydration as it seems to have lost some of its elasticity. Your lab coat is wrinkled and your nametag, that you're wearing for once, is pinned on upside down. He commits your name to memory although he finds it odd that it must be your first name instead of your family name, then again you do hail from overseas. As the two of you walk into your lab he realizes instantly that it has become your main living space. Shards of diamond glass still litter your floor, there is no rhyme or reason to the placement of objects.  Tools, and trash commingle in dangerous piles and stacks around the room. Something knits itself as it floats in the air, wavering a bit when you pause your rambling to yawn.

"Oi nerd!" Bakugou's voice is sharp, authoritative as he grips onto your wrist. Eyes still washing over the room before they land on you. Somehow you're too daft or too tired to pick up on his concern. 

"Yea yea nerd talk. I fucking get it." A half snap from your exhaustion, "Just…" 

You lose his grip before grabbing onto his arm, finding a mesh woven bracer somehow on that disastrous desk. It seems to be made of a soft, elastic fabric as you slip it over his thick forearm after shoving away his sweatshirt sleeve.

"Perfect, your sweat output was pretty close to max earlier. I could smell caramel from the gym. This is going to be so fucking great!" You giggle in delight as the other mesh bracer finishes itself, dropping before you frantically reach for it. He notices your faulty step, your under the breath curse and the long moment your eyes flutter. He almost bites his tongue clean off. 

Again your cool hands find his burning skin as you try to keep your tired brain focused on the task at hand and not how his forearms have grown nearly a half inch since your first encounter. It's difficult not to fall victim to his intoxicating smell as you force yourself to not sway on your feet and collapse into a lovely muscular man. His heat seems to have some sort of affect on you, causing an odd affinity between you both.

"Okay all done! Please give a medium sized blast!" You encourage, shoving him into the testing chamber as he glares down at you. He isn't sure why your chaotic state is bothering him but it does. He rolls his eyes as you slam the door shut. He brings clarity to his mind, focusing on his quirk and how the sweat feels against his skin. How it yearns to be something more, to explode into a whispering flame that may catch something ablaze. 

He gives in, just a little, giving it what it wants, igniting it with a simple thought. An explosion he would have considered large if he were still at UA but since all he's done is grow these past five years, earning him the number 3 rank, it comes to no surprise when the glass shatters yet again. 

Except this time you're too entranced with the smoke clearing, of seeing if your baby you've slaved over has made it through to comprehend the sharp threat. You notice the flying glass a moment too late, flicking your wrist to change the trajectory from what was supposed to be your entire body but your arms are grazed by the razor sharp shards. You grit your teeth, cursing to yourself calling forth a first aid kit. 

But nothing shows up in your peripheral except for a looming presence. One you give your back to in order to find the first aid kit with your gaze, when was the last time you ever had to look at something to summon it? 

Damn it, how could you be experiencing quirk failure from exhaustion right now? Sure it took a lot of brain power for your quirk but it takes weeks of no sleep for a failure plus you had been eating...your eyes glance around the room. You hadn't been eating, or so it says from the lack of any sort of plate or take out aside from your iced coffees with the added protein and carbohydrate shots your body needed to process your quirk with ease. 

Fuck, guess it really was quirk failure. You bite your lip, unable to find that damned kit hoping the hot head wouldn't catch on to your short coming. 

Vermillion eyes watch crimson spots bloom across the white fabric of your coat. He grinds his teeth, searching for the first aid kit only to find it knocked beneath a shelf. He rights himself, stalking your way with a grimace just to stop in his tracks. He watches you slip your oversize jacket off of strong shoulders, toned arms adorned with several thin slices that weep red, but what has really caught his attention was that body con dress. 

Sticking to you like a second skin, but looking somehow comfortable at the same time, he wonders for a moment if you've made it yourself. It's similar to the fabric used to make his shirts, breathable, soft, always smelling a bit sweet like you when they are fresh from the lab. His hand twitches as he can imagine how supple your curves would feel in the delicate yet sturdy material, palm already too familiar with the soft sensation. Red catches his eye once again pulling him from the trance that is your body. He sneers at the cuts as he grabs onto your cold shoulder, shoving you into your chair so he can work on you. You look up a bit shocked with a pinch of anger mixed in and a dash of hurt pride. He takes no notice as he wraps bandages tight around your arms, your eyes locked onto the bracers. The smile on your face cannot be helped as you stare proudly at your work, it was able to withstand so much power and remain not only in tact but unsinged. You grab onto his wrist turning it this way and that, a pen and pad float near by as you take notes. Bakugou cannot hide his astonishment as he watches the invisible hand borrow your neat yet rushed script as it is unable to keep up with your thoughts. You pull the bracers from his arms, fabric begins to tear itself thread by thread before spooling itself, wrapping around wood as if it were a snake. He pulls away, eyes hard as he talks himself out of whatever the stupid "heroic" side of him is saying. He takes a step back and with it taking his warmth. You shiver but you are too busy to notice, teeth chattering ever so slightly but you're too busy studying. He growls to himself. 

Suddenly you're enveloped in a dizzying sweet smell and warmth, it is then you realize that Bakugou had shoved his hoodie over your head. Slinking your arms into the holes to move the hood of the sweatshirt back, quickly realizing the material is not damp as you had once thought. It's warm from his quirks use, material dry as a bone, reminding you of pulling your favorite blanket fresh from the dryer just to wrap yourself in it as rain taps on the window of your apartment. 

Subconsciously you snuggle into it, opening your mouth to state how much work you have to do but instead you have to stifle a yawn. 

Had the cold of the lab always kept you awake, were you starting to actually feel the weight of your work only because you were warm? 

"I think it's time for bed, nerd." 

He places his hot palm on the back of your neck in a power move as he speaks. He enrages you and entices you all at once as your face snaps up to meet his gaze, your own eyes burning holes into him. He smirks down at you, deciding in this moment that he really likes you.  

"I'm taking you home. Get your shit." He squeezes your nape as a warning. He isn't taking no for an answer.

"I'll take the bus and train in the morning, three hours is child's play." Hitting his hand away, trying to return to your work. He scoffs in response. 

"You sure are oblivious for someone so smart. Tomorrow is Saturday." He crosses his exposed arms, unable to hide his smug smirk as realization washes over your stunning features, "That means the bus won't be in the business district til 10am." 

"I think I'll be okay." You say after a moment of silence, "I've waited longer. Or I could walk..." 

"Will you?" He retorts, "Your office says otherwise." 

You follow his gaze, your entire office in disarray, as if a bomb went off. 

You guess in a sense one had gone off. Biting your lip as you mull it over, eyes finding Bakugou's file shuffled across your desk, spying your own hand written cliff notes. 

Stubborn your script reads, you sigh admitting defeat as you wave your hand over the file. It tidies itself, papers folding neatly back into the Manila folder before you snap your fingers. 

Bakugou watches items soar around the room, books fighting and bickering over their order, pens and pencils long forgotten in corners of the room race back to their place on your desk. Papers flutter and fall into the trash or shredder in defeat as plastic cups sink into the plastic bin in the corner. The diamond glass follows suit as your own hands grab onto the bracers, giving them a gentle squeeze before you access an invisible drawer on your desk, hiding away your project before pushing it back. Wood flush against wood as if there were no drawer at all. 

A question burns on the tip of Bakugou's tongue, it dies in his throat for now as a new one is born. 

"That Kirishima's faceplate?" The question comes out in the form of a bite, for some reason the thought of his more likeable friend coming in here as often as Bakugou has set his blood boiling. 

"Ah yes, I just got this assignment from the big boss. Kirishima's new unbreakable breaks his faceplate everytime. Otto had it before me, which was odd. He is more of a reverse engineer. Taking an unknown material and figuring out how it works." Your eyes linger over the empty office across the way, "But he's been out and Kirishima can apparently no longer be on the back burner. Especially now that I've finished with the company's top hero." 

His heart melts just a bit as he watches a smidge of pride form in your dazzling eyes. He scoffs to change the topic.

"Come on, shitty woman." He guides you to the parking garage. 

Once there he acts out of character. At least what you would believe to be out of character as he holds open the door to his car for you, waiting for you to step in. 

"What?! I ain't fucking kidnapping you but I ain't letting you weasel out of this shit either." He growls, waiting impatiently by the door. You step in as he gently shuts the door behind you. He steps in himself, the engine purrs to life as you give him your address. 

"That far out? And you were gonna fucking walk?" He laughs, "Hell no, never again. You'll call me before you do that next time." 

"I don't have your number asshole." You grumble to yourself but he grabs your unlocked phone from your hands, plugging in his number and calling it. 

"There now you do." He locks it and puts it in his cup holder, demanding your attention. No longer can he keep that burning question to himself, "Why are you on support?" 

It puzzles you for a second before you realize he means it as a compliment to your quirk and not an insult to your intellect. 

"Oh that's easy. Being a hero wouldn't benefit me, it's too restrictive. I'm more of a…." You ponder on your words, vigilante was wrong, you wouldn't take justice into your own hands for the sake of others and villain was too strong, "Chaotic neutral. My moral compass is pretty grey and being in this lab benefits my need for knowledge." 

Bakugou glances your way, respectful of your honesty while your eyes become heavy watching the street lights blur, the hum of the engine pulling you deeper into relaxation.  There was something about a car ride that took you back to your childhood days in America.  The outskirts of the city would quickly wind into back roads lined with corn stalks that scrapped the sky. 

The street lights slowly became fewer and farther in between as the black coupe took you further from the heart of the city, soon more stars began to dot the sky.  You see just the tip of his zodiac constellation, it stirs a question within you. 

"So why do you want to be a hero?" You keep your eyes focused on the backdrop that lies beyond the tinted glass, missing Bakugou's knuckles turn stark white. 

He doesn't speak and that's answer enough for you.  

It took him an hour to get to your side of town, an hour. One you had said you would walk, one you mentioned you had walked before. He pulls up the sidewalk by your building, turning to you. 

"We're here…" His announcement turns into a sigh as he sees your slumped form. Head limp but thankfully not leaning on the glass as you're snuggled into his hoodie. You're murmuring how you need to update your measurements in your sleep causing Bakugou to roll his eyes. He pulls away to parallel park. He debates, should he wake you? 

No, who's to say you wouldn't attempt tor eturn to your work? He sighs, pocketing your phone and pulling the lanyard out of your purse that has, what he assumes,your house key on it. 

Katsuki's blood runs ice cold in his veins as realization sucker punches him square in the chest. He had NO fucking idea which apartment was yours. He turns your key over and over but why would that have the number on it? 

"Fuck." He would have to pray your mailbox was both clearly labeled and inside. He shoulders your purse before scooping you into his arms, sure to cradle you like the princess you are. 

He steps through the automatic doors, relief washes over him as a wall of mail boxes greet him. Better yet, they were neatly labeled with names AND apartment numbers.

But it is not long lived as his red eyes rake over the names, the family names, last names. He only knew your first and of course, of fucking course the Gods would laugh at him as panic rises in his throat. You had to have the most common first initial didn't you?  He had spotted it six times already but none of the last names seemed out of the ordinary, if anything they were all ordinary, run of the mill Japanese last names. Nothing foreign about them. 

"Fuck." He murmurs, plan B wouldn't work either, he can't just try out every fucking apartment with your first initial, how weird would that be, some guy shoving keys in random doors with a passed out woman in his arms. 

"Fuck." He cusses again. Was he going to have to take you to his apartment? Fuck, fuck fuck! He couldn't do that, the press slunk around his apartment like vultures, even at this hour.

"Oh you must be the guy that's been keeping her up so late at night." A voice sounds behind him, he turns towards the sound. A smaller young man smiles at him as if he and Bakugou share an inside joke. 

"Quite nice of you to bring her home, and get her mail." He laughs softly reaching for something in the desk, he approaches slowly, "But she must have forgotten to tell you she lost her key a couple of weeks ago. She always asks me to get the mail instead of paying the lost key fee. Don't blame her though." 

The desk clerk, Wantanabe, rambles on as Bakugou's sharp eyes watch closely. Silently thanking the Gods' for their blessing as he watches Watanabe slide the spare key into your mail slot. He commits your last name to memory, but more importantly 5C burns into his retinas. 

"...she hasn't been home in four weeks,  so she has a lot of mail." That snaps Bakugou back to the present, a small stack of mail is presented to him. He stares down at your form unable to keep the scowl off of his face. The dark circles beneath your eyes seem to become darker by the second. 

"Thanks." He growls through gritted teeth, snatching the mail as best he can without disturbing you. He looks for an elevator and when he sees he will have to climb five flights of stairs he wonders if this is the reason you don't come home often. 

Soon enough 5C is staring Bakugou in the face. He is hesitant, even if he does bring you home safely he wonders if you would misread his actions. As the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished. Still his hands move quickly, sliding the key into the door and unlocking your mysteries. The apartment is sizable for the area, clean at least what he can see from the light of the hall flooding in. He flips on a switch with his elbow, he expected harsh light but instead ambient string lights that line the ceiling illuminate the space in a warm light. A three chair island with a marble water fall looks out into the living room, a large sectional couch swallows the space, a TV atop a nice entertainment table while books litter the coffee table and one part of the couch. The apartment feels as if it had been warmed by the sun through the drawn curtains but not overly hot, it feels cozy really.  As if Bakugou could imagine himself spread out on the grey sofa while you're curled against him, half dozing half reading your book. 

The thought jarrs him, he feels too close to you now, feverish almost as he rips your key from the door, shutting it softly before placing the lanyard onto the kitchen island. He spies a hall and passes a full bath, then a freshly vacant guest room to see a final door closed that he assumes is the master. He flips the switch and again light snakes around the ceiling washing the room in this comfort. He can understand the soft yellow lights considering you spend forty plus hours beneath harsh, bleaching white lights. He pulls back the comforter as best he can and lies you down gently. He removes your red bottom heels and praises the Kamisama when he sees you do not have on tights not that he would remove them anyway. You snuggle deeper into his hoodie, smiling as you do, dreaming of whatever little scientist's dream about. Katsuki imagines it's all math, measurements, molecular structures, nerd shit. You begin to murmur in your sleep.

"...gotta update his chart…" 

"Fucking nerd." Bakugou smiles to himself, you look peaceful even as your mind races with reminders. Another snuggle deeper into his hoodie, he goes to reach out to push hair from your face and stops himself. 

"What the fuck am I doing?" He growls aloud, he doesn't know you. Barely figured out your last name and that was by both chance and stupidity on the desk clerk's. He heads for your bedroom door, stopping with his hand gripping the handle. He peers over his shoulder before killing the switch, flooding your room with darkness. 

He shuts the door and with it the odd ache that's growing in his chest.