#but I am unable of fixing my sleep schedule without trying to stay awake all night and all day

[spicyicymeloncat]

A

[linorachas]

for the weekend. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff & smut  ⁍ word count — 4.8k words ⁍ details — established relationship, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing, oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, d/s undertones, mention of the word “cockslut”, chan worship, you’re both really in love ⁍ a/n — hello! i’m a new writing blog for skz. :D this is my first work here, so i’d love to hear your thoughts. i accept criticism, but please be nice i am trying my best ㅠㅠ part 2 is here! thank you to everyone who let me know that they wanted a part 2! ♥️ ⁍ summary — After a long week of hard work, you finally spend a weekend with Chan.

Friday - 2:03 am

 Your footsteps are light and quick as you rush down the hall, duffel bag bumping against your back as it bounces from your movements. 

You were sweaty, sticky, and overall about to pass out, but there was a wide grin on your face once you stopped in front of a very familiar studio door.

You had just finished helping create a choreography for an idol group, a whole day of repeating dance moves and drawing positions on papers. 

Your out was supposed to be at 7, but you had done overtime with the intent to clear your schedule tomorrow. You would have to do overtime on Monday again, but that didn’t matter right now.

All that matters was the boy behind this door who was working just as hard as you are.

Inside, Chan was hunched over his desk, headphones in, hand cramping as he furiously jots down some notes. 

He wasn’t required to stay in, no, he could’ve left hours ago and be asleep right now. But going home without you always bothered him, so he had decided to stay until his girlfriend was finished. 

He knew you felt the same, though. You once told him that you would just be tossing and turning in bed if you went home without him. When the tables are turned and he was the one doing the overtime, you would doze on a chair beside him while he worked, or spend some time at the studio yourself.

Chan had checked the time just a few minutes ago, and he knew that you were already on your way here. Unfortunately, he had made the mistake of starting on a new project while waiting, so it would bother him if he left this unfinished while he rested at home. 

So now he was cramming, rushing to finish at least a draft. 

 You, on the other side of the door, didn’t bother with knocking, and just pushed the door open slowly. 

 Your eyes immediately find your boyfriend’s busy form; Chan’s hair was covered by a reversed snapback, basketball short clad legs tucked Indian style on top of his chair. 

 You feel a tug on your heartstrings as you watch Chan work hard for the sake of a free day tomorrow, a free day for you two.

 You smile at the way Chan taps the pen on the desk to an unfamiliar beat or taps it to the snapback on his head, before going back to writing again. 

 Chan also does these annoyed puffs of breath every few seconds, something you found to be very endearing ever since the first day you met. 

 When Chan groans in frustration, you finally walk inside and shut the door behind you, dropping your duffel bag on the floor.

 Chan freezes and stops writing when he feels arms wrapping around his neck, but the feeling is immediately gone when his brain registers that it’s his baby. 

 You press small close mouthed kisses on Chan’s cheek before you nuzzle your head against the crook between Chan’s neck and shoulder, and a smile blooms on Chan’s face.

 “Sorry,” Chan mutters, yanking his earphones down when you stop kissing him and pull away. You don’t answer. Instead, you remove Chan’s snapback from his head and card your fingers through his hair gently. 

 Chan sighs contentedly, eyes slipping shut as he leans his head back on the chair, following the flow of your fingers. He opens his eyes again when you lean down and press a kiss to his lips, 

 his nose, 

 and then his forehead. 

 You grin at him, and despite being in an unflattering upside down angle, Chan thinks you look absolutely gorgeous like this.

 Barefaced, happy, and in love.

 “It’s okay, Channie,” you finally say, after seconds of just gazing at each other lovingly passes. “I know you’re doing it for our vacation, anyway.”

 Chan lets out a small laugh as you fix the cap back on his head. “It’s just two days, baby.” 

 “Two days of sleeping, eating, and maybe some sex? I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a heavenly vacation to me.” You babble unashamedly, hands sliding down Chan’s torso to massage his pecs— making him squirm and laugh— before you slide them up again to massage his shoulder joints. 

 Chan sighs as he lets the feeling of your fingers relieving the aches wash over him, but then he catches sight of the mess of papers on his desk, and a frustrated frown replaces his smile.

 “Will you wait for me?” Chan asks hopefully. Though deep inside, he kind of already knew the answer.

 Still, his heart starts to beat too fast and his stomach fills with too many butterflies when you wrap your arms around his neck again, pressing your cheek against Chan’s own as you mutter, “of course. You know I always will.”

 And then you seal the promise with a kiss. Chan pretends he doesn’t chase after your lips when you pull away.

 He goes back to work with you still wrapped around him, and after a few moments, you start to shift. Chan’s free hand quickly darts up to your arms that are slowly loosening, so you stay still, alarmed. 

 “Stay.” Chan mumbles distractedly, eyes darting hurriedly across the papers. It’s selfish, yes, making you stand behind him for God knows how long, but Chan had always worked better when you were this close. 

 You would have seen the embarrassed blush that dotted across Chan’s cheeks if you weren’t so flustered yourself, hiding your face in Chan’s shoulder blades again when you fail to suppress a wide grin. 

 So you busy yourself with basking in Chan’s warmth instead, squeezing Chan tight every once in a while just to see him squirm and attempt to glare at you. 

 Suddenly, all your sore muscles from dancing were gone, and you were content to stand behind your boyfriend for as long as he wanted you to. 

 When Chan is finally finished and you’ve shut off all the lights, locked the door and gathered all your belongings— Chan throws an arm around your shoulder while you wrap your own arm around your boyfriend’s waist. 

 You both giggle, talk in stage whispers, and stumble down the corridor like drunken fools despite being completely sober. You hold onto each other like it was your last time to do so, as if you were reassuring yourselves that the other is still there.

 For extra measure, Chan presses his lips against your temple, whispering a sweet “I love you, Y/N. So so, so much.” that only the two of you could hear as you go out into the cold night, wrapped in each other’s warmth. 

 The streetlights look like stars in his eyes, and you ask yourself again how lucky you are to have fallen in love with Bang Chan.

Saturday - 2:54 pm

 3:16 am, you and Chan are pressed against each other as you settle into a deep sleep, blankets tucked around your bodies to shield yourselves from the cold. 

 4:23 am, you accidentally kick the blanket off the bed, leaving the both of you exposed to the cold temperature of the room. You shiver in your sleep. 

 Chan wakes up long enough to grumble about the blanket and do a half assed search around the room, just to end up pulling you closer to his chest and wrap both his arms around you. It doesn’t do much for Chan himself, but you stop shivering then, so Chan falls back asleep with a smile on his face.

 8:44 am, Chan’s phone rings. The ringtone almost rivals Chan’s snores, and the combination of the two sounds force you to wake up, annoyed. Chan was in the middle of the bed, arms and legs splayed out, while you were on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest. 

 You only have the energy to lift your head up, glare at the sun peeking from behind the curtain and at Chan’s phone, before you drop your head back on Chan’s chest heavily, startling the said boy awake. 

 Chan stops mid snore and the sound is so funny that you feel a smile tug on your lips, but then his  phone rings again.

 “Yah, Chan-ah,” you whine, wiggling upwards to bury your face in Chan’s neck. “Make it stop.”

 “Sorry babe,” Chan groans, trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes as he cups the back of your head. His free hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand, pressing it to his ear after 3 sad attempts of hitting the answer button. 

 Your hearing is muffled because of your position and Chan’s hand covering your head, and you only manage to hear a “no, no, we can’t, we’re sleeping in. Sorry Bin,” before you drown out the conversation entirely, the vibrations of Chan’s voice lulling you back to sleep. 

 Finally, at 2:54 pm, you wake up again, but this time you’re really awake. 

 Your stomach is grumbling and you’re so hungry it‘s starting to hurt. You try to move, but find yourself unable to because of the limbs restricting from doing so.

 This time, one of Chan’s legs is on top of you, covering your lower half entirely. Chan’s head is lying on the pillow, and there’s drool on his chin and it’s gross, so you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe it quickly. Thankfully he didn’t drool on your hair.

 Chan’s holding your other arm to his own chest as if it was a teddy bear, his body curled into your side snugly. When you lean back slightly to take a proper look at him, Chan’s nose twitches like a rabbit and the grip on your arm tightens. You snort.

 “Chan. Channie,” you mutter before you bury your face in Chan’s hair, squeezing the sleeping boy in an attempt to wake him up gently. 

 Chan lets out a grunt, but doesn’t do much to prove he’s really awake. You sigh. 

 What the hell are you supposed to do now?

 It takes you more than a few attempts, but you finally release your arm from Chan’s grip. However, just when you were about to start working on his leg, Chan suddenly slips his own arm under you, turning you over so you end up on top of him again. He does it so easily that it startles you, cheeks burning red at the sudden display of strength.

 “It’s our day off, give me one more hour.” Chan grumbles. He was still half asleep so most of his sentence was incoherent, but if anyone was an expert in sleepy Chan language, it was you.

 You glance at the wall clock on the other side of the room, grimacing once you realize why you were starving. “Shit. We really wasted the whole day away by sleeping, dude. It’s 3 pm.”

 “Stop calling me dude.” He huffs. “And it’s a vacation, Y/N. Let me sleep. Let us sleep.” 

 You pout when you get your own words thrown back at you, and then it’s as if Chan has a sixth sense for your pouting, because he’s suddenly lifting his head up to press a kiss to your chin, eyes still closed.

 You’re guessing he was aiming for your lips, but he was fighting a hard battle between properly kissing you and falling back asleep. It was endearing.

 “Love you,” Chan mutters groggily, and was about to drop his head back on the pillow when you stop him with a proper kiss to the lips. It’s a very awkward angle, but you both blush and giggle as if it’s your first kiss.

 “Mmmmhm,” Chan pulls away after a few seconds of close mouthed kisses, eyes now blinking open as he frowns at you. “Don’t kiss me. Morning breath.”

 You giggle, leaning up on your elbows to take a proper look at him, heart squeezing at the way his lips were pouted. His bed head looked like a bird’s nest and his eyes were swollen. You couldn’t resist pressing another peck to his lips at the sight.

 “But I just did.” You grin, cupping Chan’s cheek as you press small, rapid kisses on his face. “Besides, it’s afternoon.”

 Chan rolls his eyes, pretending as if he wasn’t chasing your lips with every kiss. And you giggle again, because you were giddy that Chan is finally awake and you were in love with him, and those two don’t really connect, but whatever. 

 Barely a minute passes before Chan’s eyes start to slip shut again, and it’s only then that you realize you’ve been running your hand through your boyfriend’s hair unconsciously.

 “The day’s over, anyway,” Chan places a hand at the back of your head, gently leading you to his neck. He presses a kiss to your forehead then yawns, fingernails scratching your scalp gently to lure you into going back to sleep. “Let’s just stay in bed.”

 And you, you were so tempted to say yes, especially with how warm and comfortable you were in the love of your life’s arms, but then your stomach starts to wail like a dying animal, and both you and Chan wince.

 “Chan-“

 “I heard it.”

 You laugh, a loud, refreshing sound that makes Chan’s heart pump wildly, and you feel his lips form into a smile when he presses a kiss to your forehead again, longer this time.

 Chan then wraps both of his arms around your waist, turning you both over to the side. Your arms come up to lock around Chan’s neck, and your eyes meet when you look up. 

 Chan’s eyes were twinkling, and you’re not so sure if it’s because of the light behind you.

 “Hello,” Chan says casually, and you make a sound between huffing and laughing.

 “Will you at least let me go so I can make breakfast?”

 “It’s already afternoon,” Chan half-heartedly reasons, his arms tightening around you as he leans down to press another kiss to your nose.

 “Breakfast time is any time. Whoever thinks otherwise should be jailed.” 

 Chan ignores you, busy pressing a few more pecks to your cheeks, nudging your nose with his own. 

 You whine. “Come on, baby. You need to eat. I know you’re hungry too.”

 And Chan is, but he doesn’t want to leave the bed yet. He’s not pouting, he swears he isn’t, but he knows he’s making a face because you were smiling all amusedly at him again, like you were surprised he was acting this way.

 Who could blame him, really? He had a whole day off, a beautiful girl in his arms, and unlimited kisses to give and receive. Why would he leave this warm bubble without a fight?

 Chan tightens his grip and rolls again, and you were getting out of breath from laughing and trying to push him away. Your boyfriend pins you down on the bed, holding your hands above your head and intertwining your fingers together.

 “Hello,” Chan says again, grinning down at your flushed face.

 The sudden displays of strength kept catching you off guard, and your face was reddening for a multitude of reasons.

 “Hi,” you reply, albeit breathlessly, and you tilt your head up as a way of asking for a kiss. 

 Chan leans down slowly, too slowly for your liking, so you groan loudly. Chan laughs but finally presses your lips together, subconsciously loosening his grip on your hands. You free them from his grasp to cup his cheeks. 

 You can feel Chan smile against your own lips, and you only go as far as nibbling on the other’s bottom lip before you decide something and push him back.

 “Y/N,” Chan whines, chasing after you again, but you stop him with a finger to his chest and a quick peck to the lips. He stops, clearly confused.

 You push him back further, making him fall onto his side. He seems to catch on when you start straddling him, knees on other sides of his hips.

 “Oh.” Chan gapes, eyes blinking up at you stupidly. You laugh.

 “Yeah, oh.” 

 You drag the hem of his shirt up, deliberately scratching your nails against the hard muscles of his abs. Chan groans at that, hips bucking up involuntarily.

 As he busies himself with taking his shirt off properly, you start to press open mouthed kisses down his chest, tongue laving against the prominent lines of his stomach. You start sucking near the navel, leaving a big, deep purple hickey that contrasts heavily against his pale white skin.

 Chan hadn’t said anything since you started, but he was leaning back on his elbows, dark eyes following your every move. You felt the way his eyes followed the curve of your body as you adjusted to kneeling so you could move further down, making you shiver. It was almost like he was touching you with how intense his stare was. But his hands stayed at his sides, calm and waiting to strike.

 You knew that would change soon.

 There was already a noticeable bulge by the time you got down to his crotch, making you bite back a smile. You know Chan could feel your amusement because he uses his feet to tickle you at your side, making you laugh.

 “Get on with it, pretty.” His tone was playful, but his hooded eyes were saying otherwise.

 You listened obediently though, because at the end of the day, all you really wanted was to be good for Chan. All you wanted was to pleasure him, to make him feel good, to let him know that you wanted him to be happy. 

 And if a mindblowing orgasm from a morning wood blowjob was the way to success… well.

 You don’t waste any time in taking off his boxers, desperate to see the cock you loved. It wasn’t a secret that you were a bit of a cockslut, but it was technically Chan’s fault. When he slid his cock in you the first time and made you cum so hard you almost passed out, you were ruined for anybody else ever.

 You loved him inside you, loved him pounding so deep into you you felt the head of his cock in your cervix, and also loved him when he took it slow and let you feel every inch— every vein that lined along his fat cock. You loved when you were at his mercy.

 But you also loved when you had that same cock in your mouth, filling you all the way to your throat. You were guessing you had a bit of an oral fixation, since sometimes you craved the weight of it at random times of the day. You just wanted his cock in your mouth, and you knew Chan was more than happy to oblige.

 Chan’s sizeable cock slapped up against his stomach when you finally took away its confines, precum smearing against his skin. Chan’s fingers tighten against the sheets when you lean forward and kitten-licked that same precum off, his cock bumping against your cheek.

 “Baby,” he exhaled, brows furrowing. “Are you playing games right now?”

 “No,” you answer, but as soon as the word left your mouth, you flattened your tongue and licked a thick stripe up at the side of his cock, making Chan groan and throw his head back.

 You swirl your tongue around the angry purple tip of his cock, letting his precum coat your tongue. But you don’t swallow it, not yet. You let the liquids fall back onto his cock, using it as lubricant for your hand that comes up to stroke him. 

 Chan grunted, bucking up into the tight space of your hand as his head lolled forward. He watches you with lidded eyes, and you tilt your head so he could feel the hot exhale of your breath on his cock. Predictably, you felt it twitch.

 A hand comes to cup the back of your head, and you look up through your lashes to see Chan licking his lips and swallowing. 

 “Come on,” he urges, hand sliding down to tilt your head up. He slides his thumb into your mouth and your lips close around it immediately, sucking. Chan shudders. “Be good for me.”

 And you obey.

 As soon as Chan’s thumb slipped out of your mouth, you replaced it with his cock, tongue flattening as you took half of him in your mouth. Your lips stretched obscenely, Chan’s girth and length stretching your mouth to its limits. 

 But instead of deterring you, it only made you moan. You already felt so full even if you hadn’t taken his entire cock in your mouth yet, almost gagging when you felt the tip nudge the back of your throat. Your eyes flick up, watching as Chan’s jaw tightened, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

 You bob your head up and down slowly, understanding that Chan was letting you take the lead. His hand stayed cupped at the back off your head, a reassuring constant as you did your best to breathe through your nose. 

 The slick sounds your mouth was making echoed along with Chan’s muttered curses in your quiet room, the only other sound being the traffic outside.

 “Shit. Shit,” Chan exhaled, chest heaving. He was always much more sensitive in the morning. “Your mouth, baby. That fucking mouth.”

 And much more noisier.

 “So good for me.” Chan whispers, voice rough and heated. He brushes the back of his hand against your hollowed cheeks, then cards his fingers through your hair so he could see your face properly. “Look at you, my cock in your mouth first thing in the morning. What a sight.”

 You moan at his words, and the vibrations that come from your throat make him twitch in your mouth. Chan refrains from bucking his hips, but he slips up sometimes when gets too lost in the pleasure. There’s an apology on his lips every time, but you shut him up quickly with a harsh suck to his throbbing cock.

 You know he’s close when the twitching gets more frequent and his thighs start tensing around your head, his hand going from tugging on your hair instead of just resting there. Chan gets quieter as well, his nasty praises trailing off to grunts and broken moans.

 Your jaw was aching, but the quiet gasps of your name spurs you on more than you’d like to admit. Because as much as you loved to be under Chan’s mercy, something about him losing his mind over your mouth and saying your name like it was his last prayer did things to you. The slick heat between your legs reminded you of it.

 His pleasure was your pleasure.

 You’re forcibly pulled off when Chan tugs your head back, and you’re just about to complain when Chan suddenly sits up and grabs his cock with his free hand, keeping the tip of it in your mouth. 

 “Look at me.” He hisses, and you obey immediately. 

 You look up at him through your lashes, suckling at the head of his cock as much as he let you. He jerks himself off quickly, using your spit as lube and groaning at the lewd sight of your lips wrapped around him and the feeling of your tongue insistently brushing against the underside of his cock.

 “I’m gonna cum, baby, shit-“ he grunts through gritted teeth, and you squirm as you watch his abs and arms flex with each movement. 

 Chan had his head thrown back now, sweat dripping down his throat and his pale skin reddening as he got closer and closer to his release. 

 “I’m gonna cum in this pretty mouth. This perfect mouth, only mine to use, hm? Just mine and mine alone, fuck- god, fuck!“

 You tug Chan’s hand away and swallow his cock down your mouth again as soon as the first spurt of his cum hits your tongue, making him flinch. 

He’s clearly torn between tugging your head away due to  the oversensitivity, or pushing his cock farther down your mouth. His hand flexes in your hair, unsure of what to do. 

 You decide for him.

 Your throat works against him, struggling to swallow his cum and keep his cock in your mouth at the same time. You were determined to milk his whole orgasm out of him, and you weren’t going to stop until he was dry and shaking. The moans Chan lets out this time are almost close to whimpers as he falls back against the mattress, hips bucking uselessly. 

 “Y/N,” he whines, gasping for breath, and you rub your hands up and down his hips to ground him. You clean him up slowly, aware that the oversensitivity must be bordering on pain now.

 Chan groans, arms coming up to hide his reddened face.  “Baby, enough, please. Come here, come up, I want a kiss. Please.”

 You bite back a smile as you pull off his cock, sucking one last hickey to his navel and reveling in his stuttered moan. You crawl up the bed slowly, kissing the exposed part of Chan’s chin; the only area that wasn’t covered by his arms.

 “Good?” You ask, sitting on his stomach now.

 “Good?” He squawks, disbelief written all over his face when he pulls his arms away. His face was still red, as well as the upper parts of his chest. “Good?! You- god, I can’t believe you. Come here, you little minx.”

 He growls, pulling you into a bruising kiss. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks again, moaning as he bit on your lips and sucked on your tongue like a starving man. Chan’s hands grope your breasts through your shirt, thumbing your slowly hardening nipples and making you squirm. 

 When he pulls away from the kiss and trails his lips down your neck, his hands move lower as well. He hooked his thumbs in your shorts, one second from pulling them down and having his way with you. But-

 Speaking of starving.

 “Channie,” you whine, stopping his hands. He freezes immediately, pulling back to look at you. Concern was written all over his face, and you would have cooed if you didn’t have more pressing matters at hand. 

 You frowned. “I’m really hungry.”

 Chan gapes at you, stunned. He blinks rapidly, eyes going from your frowning face to his hands by your shorts. “I- are you- do you not want me to return the favor? You just gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

 You snort, knowing he was exaggerating, but Chan looked dead serious. You roll your eyes then, locking your lips in a heated kiss again for a few seconds to satiate your needy boyfriend. You keep your forehead pressed together when you pull back slightly to look in his dazed eyes, still filled with want. 

 You drag the tip of your index finger across his lip, smirking. “I’ll make you a deal. If you put some food in my stomach, I promise I’ll let you fuck me six ways to sunday.” You grind down, making him hiss. “It’s been too long since you made me cry, no?”

 Chan’s eyes darkened. You licked your lips.

 But then, the next thing you know, the world was upside down, and you were being carried outside your bedroom over your boyfriend’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

 “Bang Chan!” You squeak, heart pounding wildly in your chest. “Put me down, you crazy idiot! What the hell are you doing!”

 “Putting some food in your stomach.” Chan replied simply, like that was the answer to all your questions. “No take backs.”

 You pause for a second, then find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Chan was still naked. You smack his ass repeatedly, making him yelp on the way to the kitchen. 

 “You’re insane.” You laugh as he finally sets you down on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his neck when he squeezes himself in between your thighs.

 “You love me.” He giggles, looking too smug for your own liking. But then his face softens, and you blink in surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your lips,

 then your nose,

 then your forehead,

 then your lips again.

 “And I love you . More than anything.”

 It’s the softest kiss you’ve shared since you woke up, and that was saying something. You look up at Chan, dazed at the sudden switch of mood. He was looking at you tenderly, eyes twinkling as he smiled, dimples popping out.

 Your heart pounded in your chest again, beating so hard you felt like it was going to come out of you. You love him. You were so in love with Bang Chan that it hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life in his arms, just like this. Always.

 “Now,” Chan grinned wide, stepping back as he clapped his hands twice. He was looking very determined, arms crossed and bulging over his chest as he looked around the kitchen. 

 Your eyes meet, and your breath catches in your throat when he smirks.

 “Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

[ticklishfiend]

Pure Gold (My Hero Academia)

Lee!Mina / Ler!Bakugou ⚠️PLATONIC⚠️

A/N : haven’t posted a fic in a while cause my laptop broke but hey!! i fixed it!! so here we go. i wanna make a sequel to this with the sleepover mentioned at the end, so if ur interested or have any ideas, lemme know!!

Summary: Mina catches Bakugou in a very incriminating circumstance, and of course, records it (cause how could she not). Unfortunately for her, Bakugou doesn’t think this is as funny as she thinks it is, but decides to make her laugh with his own methods anyways.

Word Count: 3084

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED, MWAH <33 xoxo

. . .

Mina rolled onto her right side for what had to be the millionth time tonight, nothing ever feeling comfortable enough to just loll her into the right sleepy headspace she needed to get some goddamn shuteye. She’s never really had many problems with falling asleep before, so why tonight she had to be burdened with this temporary insomnia was beyond her. 

Mina threw her arm out behind her back towards her bedside table, fingers fumbling around for her phone before finding it connected to the charger. Detaching it from it’s plug, she brought it towards her, face flinching at the sudden brightness before her eyes adjusted to the light. She groaned as she scanned over the time, 1:02AM, far later than she would typically still be awake. Sure, it was Friday so she didn’t have any classes to worry about the next day, but it was still frustrating to get off her normal sleeping schedule so suddenly and for seemingly no reason. She had to fix it soon before she pulled an accidental all-nighter.

Whining and groaning the whole way, Mina threw her legs out over the side of her bed, dangling her feet for a moment before slipping them into her cute fuzzy panda slippers she kept on her bedside. The girl figured her best bet for now would be to drink one of the soothing teas that Momo kept lying around in the kitchen for anyone to use. She dragged herself towards the door, allowing her arms to stretch over her head with a yawn before grabbing at the cold metal door handle and slowly creaking open the entrance. 

She was careful to be quiet, turning the handle before shutting the door as to avoid any unnecessary clicks. She’d be damned if she made any of her light-sleeper classmates go through the same sleepless night she was currently going through by waking them up so late in the night. She walked heel to toe through the carpeted hallway, finding her way to the elevator finally and breathing a sigh of relief as the doors closed without a dinging sound.

After what felt like a treacherous journey, she finally made it to the corner that would lead her to both the kitchen and common area. But, before she turned the corner, she saw a light illuminating off the walls coming from the commons. Her brow quirked, not expecting any type of light to be shining from the area.

No worries, she thought. If someone accidentally left a light on I’ll just turn it off real quick so no one gets in trouble, easy peasy! She finally made it around the corner when it finally dawned on her where the light source was coming from in the first place; the TV.

Her eyes met the muted TV that seemed to be playing a...romance anime? The subtitles were on and the volume was completely turned off, so whoever had been watching it was obviously aware of how late it was and was trying to stay quiet for the rest of the class like Mina had been.

The pink girl watched the screen for a moment, reading the subtitles to find that one of the characters had apparently just confessed their love to someone else in some heroic fashion. It was super cute, and she’ll definitely have to look up whatever this is so she can watch it in her own time. Before she could make her way towards the action to turn the TV off, however, she heard...is that…?

...sniffles? 

She paused, her ears perking up at the sound just in case she had imagined it. Then, no more than 3 seconds later, she heard it again. Sniffles, this time accompanied by a little groan of what sounded like endearment. This is so cute, she thought to herself, bringing her hand to her mouth to cover up any giggles that dared to escape. Someone’s crying about a romance anime right now, and it definitely sounded like one of the boys too! There’s no way I can’t find out who this is.

As quietly and sneakily as the acidic girl possibly could, she made her way towards the back of the couch, crouching down just slightly as to not alert them with her shadow. She finally allowed her eyes to peer just above the top of the cushion aaaand…

…

BAKUGOU?!

Mina could hardly believe what she was seeing. Was she complaining? Absolutely not, this was pure gold, it was just surprising! THE Bakugou Katsuki, curled up on the corner of the couch swaddled in a fluffy All Might blanket, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes with an actual smile on his face. He stuffed his mouth with popcorn before wiping his tears with the corner of his printed blanket, muffling a small “Finally,” into the fabric. 

There was no chance in hell Mina was going to miss this golden opportunity.

Like a spy, Mina quickly but quietly snatched her phone from the pocket of her sleep shorts, opening the camera before pressing record. She zoomed in on the romantic scene displayed on the screen, before slowly panning down to the still sniffling Bakugou, the light from the TV bright but his smile even brighter. She hit the off button before stuffing the phone back in her pocket with a grin, quietly making her way towards the kitchen.

She went to take a mug out of one of the top cabinets, purposefully shutting it louder than she needed to to alert the blonde on the sofa. He jumped at the noise, whipping his head around towards the girl before throwing his arm towards the coffee table to snatch the remote and turn the TV off with force.

“Why the fuck are you in here, Pinky?!!” Bakugou whisper-shouted from across the room, and though the light from the TV was now gone, Mina could just tell he had to be blushing from embarrassment. She grinned widely.

“Oh, y’know, couldn’t sleep,” She smirked, not looking Bakugou’s direction while filling her kettle with tap water. “I’m guessing the romantic buildup had to be pretty intense to make THE Lord Explosion Murder shed a few tears, huh?”

Bakugou froze before his body started to shake with anger, launching himself over the back of the couch and lunging towards Mina, grabbing her by the shoulders and digging his fingers into the flesh aggressively. He was seething, his jaw clenched and eyes white with anger, and though Mina was a little shaken up when he initially grabbed her, she couldn’t help but giggle when remembering what she had just seen moments ago.

“I WILL KILL YOU, YOU ALIEN FUCK!” He almost-shouted, and it was obvious he was still cautious of waking anyone up so Mina wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about what she had witnessed. “You keep this shit to yourself, got it?! Cause I’m not scared to fucking kill you!”

“Oh I know that, Blasty,” she smiled up at him, unable to suppress another giggle. “It’s too bad I got your little cry-sesh on camera then, huh?”

Bakugou’s face fell, his eyes wide before he squeezed even tighter into her shoulders. “You...you WHAT?!?!” Mina had meant to let out another laugh at his expense, but it turned into a yelp as she was aggressively hoisted up over his shoulder. 

Mina kicked and laughed, hitting at his back to no avail as he stomped towards the couch and unceremoniously threw her down onto it, pinning her against the cushions, her hands now laying flat underneath his knees that were thrown over her waist.

“Woah, take me out to dinner first!” Mina’s eyes were wide as she let out a nervous chuckle. She tugged at her hands, but they weren’t going anywhere under his weight. She even tried kicking a little against the cushion, but yet again, nothing.

“Not into you like that, Pinky,” He aggressively pointed towards her face, the angry scowl never leaving his now wrinkled expression. “And you’re gonna delete that fucking video, got it?!”

“Are you kidding me?! I could never delete that! It’s gold and you know it!” Mina exasperated, shocked he could even consider that a possibility. 

“NO IT’S FUCKING NOT!” He whisper-shouted into her face, moving his hand even closer to her face until it booped her nose, her eyes crossing down to look at it. “Delete it, Horns...or I’ll fucking make you.”

Mina uncrossed her eyes and looked up to Bakugou, whose face remained angry and undeterred. She sighed, “Ok, first of all, they’re not horns; they’re antennas. Secondly, you were too cute in the video to delete it! I’m sorry, Baku, but I can’t do that.”

Bakugou just grunted, moving both of his hands down now to grip at her waist, making her eyes widen with a sudden knowing fear. “I am NOT cute, and you WILL delete that fucking video, Pink-Fuck! You always give in to this shit,” Bakugou couldn’t help the smirk that rose on his face as he squeezed her sides once, making her jump and yelp.

“Nohoho! Bakugou, please, not thihis!” Mina couldn’t help the giggles that left her lips even if he hadn’t properly done anything yet. It was just the knowing of what was to come that caused nervous laughter to bubble from her chest and into both their ears.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, moron,” Bakugou said, eyeing down at her waist before noticing the phone-sized bulge in her shorts pocket. He smirked, reaching down and pulling it from its hiding spot. He looked at the screen before huffing, turning it to face her eyes. “Gimme the code. Now.”

“No way! You’ll just delete the video!” Mina said before yelping with another jerk as he pinched at her side again. “Dohon’t!” He sat her phone down on the arm of the couch before wiggling both his hands over her belly, the sight alone making her shriek and let out a flow of giggles.

“You’re gonna wanna give me that code, loser,” Bakugou grinned, jerking his hands down towards her stomach without touching her and bringing them back up, making Mina jerk aggressively with another yelp. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already freaking out! This is gonna fucking suck for you if you don’t let me delete that damn video!” 

Mina just pursed her mouth shut tightly, shaking her head “no” while letting little huffs of suppressed laughs escape from her nose. Bakugou just sighed, raising his wiggling fingers just slightly higher before a wide, sadistic grin cemented itself to his face.

“You asked for this.”

Before she had time to retaliate, wiggling fingers came down to pinch up her sides and into the dips of her ribs, sending her into a cackling fit. She kicked uselessly from behind him, tugging at her trapped hands to no avail.

Bakugou used his right hand to dig his fingertips into the bottom of her ribs, while skittering his other nails over her quivering belly. She sucked her stomach in as much as possible, but with each laugh it was brought back up, practically tickling itself on his fingers.

“Bakugohohou! Plehehease! Nohoho!” She squealed, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as he continued his relentless but playful torture.

“No what?” the blonde teased, using his index and middle fingers to vibrate into her tummy. She let out a shriek at that, jerking violently while trying to smush her face into the cushion beside her. “Ohoho, that bad, huh? Pretty effective method if I do say so myself,” Bakugou then used his two fingers on each hand to vibrate into her lower ribs, a spot he knows all too well is absolutely unforgiving. She screamed at this, shaking her head side to side as laughs poured from her gut. “I always get what I want, Pinky, and this isn’t gonna be any fucking different.”

Mina couldn’t help the loud shrieks and squeals that left her body, tossing herself from side to side with no effect whatsoever. “GAHAHAHA! Plehehease! It tickles too muhuhuch!”

“Not my fucking problem,” Bakugou went back to his squeezing method from before, this time bringing one hand down to pinch at her hip. Mina jolted at the touch, screaming and cackling at his relentless squeezing. “The code, moron, lest you forget about what got you here in the first place.”

“Nehehever! I cahahan’t!” she laughed before gasping in a breath of air as his hands let go of her body for a moment. She hesitantly opened one of her eyes to look at her tormentor, who was yet again wiggling his fingers over her tummy. She shut her eyes again tight at the sight, a new bout of giggles leaving her from anticipation. “Nohoho!”

“You can never handle being teased, can ya?” Bakugou grinned, before bringing both his hands back down to lift up her nightshirt up to her bottom ribs.

“No! No no no! Please! Bakugou, let’s talk about this!” Mina spluttered out nervously, opening her eyes to see him just ghosting his fingers over her still quivering belly. She tossed her head back with a giggly whine, kicking her feet behind him like a child in a tantrum.

“Nope. You had your damn chance, and you blew it,” He smirked devilishly, bringing his fingers down to gently skitter over her now bare belly, dissolving her into a fit of high-pitched giggles. “Now you’re gonna get-” BZZZ! BZZZ!

Bakugou paused his previously wiggling fingers, his head whipping up and eyes making contact with the now buzzing phone resting on the arm of the couch. He groaned when he read who was calling on Mina’s FaceTime, resting one hand on his knee while reaching out and swiping the phone from it’s resting spot (though his knees were still pressed firmly against Mina’s trapped hands- he hadn’t yet planned on stopping her torment.)

Bakugou pressed the bright green button on the screen and stared blankly at the dark screen as Denki answered. The boy had obviously been trying to sleep, evident by the fact no lights were on in his room.

“Bakugou?” The boy asked groggily on the other end, and even though Bakugou couldn’t technically see his face, he knew he had to have the dumbest expression printed all over it.

“Yes, what the hell do you want Pikachu?” Bakugou growled at the screen.

“Can you tell Mina to quit screaming? I could tell it’s her, her laughs are always the same; just so fuckin’ loud,” Denki chuckled, and Bakugou could hear his sheets shuffling. “What’s got her laughing so hard anyway? You aren’t exactly the funniest person on the planet.”

“I’M FUCKING HILARIOUS YOU DUNCE!” Bakugou shouted angrily into the phone, gripping it tightly as Mina just prayed he wouldn’t crush it with his pure fiery rage. “And that’s none of your fucking buisness!” Bakugou paused, looking down at Mina who had a sheepish grin on her face. He sighed. “She’ll be quiet now. Just go to sleep so you aren’t dumber tomorrow than you usually are,” Bakugou huffed, hanging up without allowing the blonde on the other end to get any word in. 

The explosive teen threw Mina’s phone down beside her on the couch, hoisting himself off her with a scowl on his face and a roughness to his movements. Mina couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as he jerked his blanket out from under the girl aggressively and began making his way away from the couch. She quickly sat up and snatched his wrist, pulling him back slightly and making the boy grunt, looking back at her with tense brows.

“How about a compromise?” She proposed, a small grin on her face. He looked at her through squinted eyes for a moment, questioning her request. Finally, he rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Hit me with it,” he didn’t look at her in the eyes, but she celebrated internally at the fact he wasn’t too visibly angry at her.

“I’ve got a sleepover tomorrow with all the girls, and we’ve been dying for a special guest,” She bit her lip with a cheek-tearing smirk as his brow somehow managed to furrow even deeper. “Hang out with us for just a few hours tomorrow night; you don’t even have to sleep over, just stay for the fun parts. I’ll delete the video as soon as it’s over.”

He continued to stare at her questioningly, obviously not convinced nor happy with this compromise. She needed to give him more.

“I promise I won’t show a soul the video if you promise to go tomorrow. No one will even know it existed before it’s already gone,” she said, before deciding to finally pull out the big guns. She pouted out her bottom lip and lowered her wide eyes, eyebrows piercing upwards like a sad puppy. “Pleeease Bakugou? I promise it’ll be fun!”

He paused, staring at her sad little face and feeling himself go slightly soft inside while staring at his friend. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and jerked his arm out of the girl’s grasp with a loud groan.

“Fine...as long as this shit stays between us...I guess I’ll go,” Bakugou nearly whispered the last part, as if the words had to crawl their way out of his throat while being tied down from his sheer stubbornness alone. 

Mina couldn't help the shriek of excitement she let out, her mouth quickly getting covered by Bakugou's large calloused hand while his other planted an index finger on his own mouth towards her. “Shut the fuck up Pinky, we already woke Dunce up!” She just smiled behind his hand, nodding up and down quickly.

Bakugou let out a sigh as he moved his hand from her face, using his fingers to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. “You are so fucking annoying, y’know that?”

Mina just giggled, standing up and giving Bakugou a hug so quick he couldn’t pull away from it. He stood in shock for a moment, before shoving her shoulder and making the girl fall back on the couch with an oof! followed by her giggles. He just rolled his eyes with a, “Tch,” throwing his blanket over his shoulder and walking towards the hallways.

“Night, Blasty! Get ready for the night of your life tomorrow!” She whisper-shouted towards the exiting boy, who only flipped her off as his body finally disappeared into the shadows of the shared hallways.

. . .

A/N : hope you enjoyed!! i didn’t rlly proofread this so if it’s terribly written i apologize lmaoo, again if ur interested in a part 2 lemme know!!! much love <3 xoxo

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

3:42 am

summary: it’s three forty-two in the morning, but there’s no chance of you falling asleep without Anthony.

warnings: angst

word count: 1.5k

note from the writer: I came up with this idea one night, rolled over to check the time, and that’s how I decided on the time. also, if it wasn't obvious, I picked Tito for the fic.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not with you both so calm. Not when things had felt so good just a month ago. 

It was like things just fell out of place between you and Anthony. For most of your relationship with him, you always had time for each other, and you worked around crazy schedules. But now it was like nothing seemed to click between you and him. You didn't know how to fix it, but it was painful to sit by and watch the greatest relationship you've ever had crumble. 

So it wasn't really a surprise when one night at your apartment things finally fell apart. 

It almost would've been better if he yelled, because then you could yell back and say the relationship ended with an argument. But no, Anthony was too good of a man to get upset with you when nothing really had gone wrong. It just, stopped working between the two of you. 

“I’ll always love you.” He whispered, dropping kiss to the top of your head and holding you in his arms like he hadn't just told you that he couldn’t do your relationship anymore, that it wasn't working. “Don’t forget that, ever.” 

And with that, he dried your tears and kissed you one last time before leaving.

That had been three weeks ago, but it felt like years. You had managed to avoid texting Anthony, but you hadn't cut him completely out of your life. It was a special form of torture, how you stilled curled up in bed and watched the Islanders play, even staying up late when they played on the west coast. Your friends tried to convince you that it wasn’t a good idea, but it hurt too much to completely cut him out of your life. You had stopped crying every night, so you took that as a sign that things were getting better.

But now as you stood in your favorite cafe, you could feel everything that you had been working on dissolve. It wasn't Anthony that was in line behind you, but it might as well have been. 

Mat slid up beside you, tacking his order onto yours and handing over his card before you could even object. You offered him a weak smile, not even waiting for him to follow you as you sat in an open booth while they made your drinks. 

“How have you been?” He asked after a moment of you silently picking at your sleeve. You shrugged, gaze casted heavily down on your hands. You heard Mat sigh at your lack of response, nudging your leg with his foot to get you to look up at him. “Listen, you’re my friend, too. Whatever happened between you and Beau, we’re still good.” You sighed a breath of relief you hadn't known you were holding in, and nodded as Mat smiled reassuringly at you.

“How... how is he doing?” You forced the question out, though you weren't really sure you wanted to know the answer. Didn’t think that you could handle hearing that Anthony was moving on, doing better than you were.

“Not good, but he'd kill me if I told you that.” Mat said honestly, catching you off guard. It was then that your order was called, and you followed him to the counter. He grabbed your drink, holding it just out of arms reach so you were forced to meet his gaze and listen to him. “Promise me, that if you’re up to it, you’ll talk to him? You guys still care for each other, and if anyone can make it work, it’s you two.”

And you nodded, because that was about all the answer you could muster up.

You blamed Mat’s words for why you couldn't sleep. It was four days after you had seen Mat and nearly a whole month since you had split with Anthony. The last thing both boys had said to you were ringing in your ears—how Anthony said he would always love you and Mat claiming he wasn’t okay.

You rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You had tried everything to fall asleep, changing pajamas, removing pillows, adding pillows, counting to a hundred—nothing worked, and you had a sneaking suspicion why. It was the same reason you hadn’t slept in a month. 

You picked your phone up off of your nightstand, squinting into at the blinding brightness of your screen. 

Three fourty-two am. 

It was ungodly early in the morning, but this wasn't the first time you had been awake as a result of being unable to sleep. Mat’s words were bouncing back and forth in your mind, and before you really even knew it you had Anthony’s contact pulled up. 

You kicked yourself for following the Islanders’ schedule so closely, but you knew the boys were getting back from a road trip to Dallas, and from what you remembered from when you were together, their flight would’ve landed an hour ago. Anthony would probably be up, if you were lucky, and that was all it took for you to dial his number. 

Your lip was caught between you teeth as you rolled onto your back, phone tucked to your ear as you stared into the darkness of your room. You considered hanging up, texting him saying you misdialed so he wouldn't ask want you needed later, but just as you built up the nerve to do it he picked up.

“Hey, is everything alright?” You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, but what stood out more was the concern. You let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you had been holding in, not expecting just how good it would feel to hear his voice again. Anthony called your name softly, bringing you back into the moment. “Talk to me, please.”

“I’m... I’m okay.” You settled on saying, because even though you felt the furthest from okay. But you didn’t want Anthony to freak out, you had heard him moving things around on his end of the line, only stilling once you spoke. 

“So...?” He trailed off and you sat up in bed, not exactly sure what you thought the outcome of this conversation would be. Anthony seemed to pick up on your frustration, and continued on talking. “I just got back home from an away game, don't know if you’ve been watching.”

“I always watch.” The admission fell past your lips without your permission, it was just something about the way he sounded so sad at the idea of you not keeping up with his games. A silence fell over you, and you felt a wave of bravery wash over you. “I can’t sleep.”

“Come over.” It wasn’t a question, and he said it so easily you were slipping out of bed to pull on sweats and just to torture yourself that much extra—one of Anthony’s sweatshirts he had left at your place. You hung up shortly after telling him you were on your way, and he told you to stay safe. 

Time seemed to pass quicker as you headed to the familiar apartment. Your leg bounced anxiously as you stood in front of his door, trying to get the nerve to knock. Your stomach was churning, knowing that Anthony was just on the other side of the door, so close yet so far. Once you did decide to knock, the door swung open before you could even lower your fist. 

For a moment, you and Anthony just studied each other, taking in the exhausted appearance on both of your faces. Hair a mess from running his fingers through it due to anticipation of your arrival, shoulders tensed, and dark bags under his eyes that told you he had been just as affected by the breakup as you. He was wearing his glasses, looking like the softest person in the world, and you couldn’t help but launch yourself into his arms without even saying anything. 

It was scary, how comfortable and at home it felt to be in his arms once more. You worried that this would be a one-time thing and you’d have to go home to your empty apartment and learn to live with out. But, something in the way he was clinging to you like he’d never let go again had you thinking that maybe things would be okay.

“We can talk in the morning, okay? Let’s just go to bed.” Anthony finally spoke, pressing kisses to the top of your head. Despite his words, he made no effort to pull away from you, and you certainly weren't going to move away first.

“I just, don't want to lose you. I can’t handle you walking out again.” You confessed, voice just barely above a whisper as you felt tears stream down your face. Anthony pulled away just enough to cup your face in both hands, thumbs brushing over the wetness on your cheeks. You were gripping his shirt tightly, the fabric bunched up in your hands in an effort to convince yourself that he was really here, back in your arms. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, only separating to rest his forehead against yours and assure you with his next words.

“You have me, and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

[am-imagines]

Legendary 4.5 Morgan!Reader.

Being up at night is kinda your thing. It was like that even before everything.

Still, things became worse after the accident. Sometimes you lay awake in bed, feeling lost and unable to breathe. You don’t really cry, but the pain consumes you like a fire until your lungs burn. It’s then you wish with everything you are to wake up, to be in a world where she’s still there. It hasn’t happened yet.

Sometimes you wake up gasping, the remnants of a nightmare mixing with the real world in a blurry mess. The pain turns into rage, endless anger against the world. Those nights you need to walk or work out  in order to avoid the downward spiral. Many times you’ve stared into the abyss, fully conscious that a bad decision can take away whatever is left from you.

Finally, there are nights like tonight. You wake up and the world is too quiet while your mind is too loud. Your phone says it’s barely past two am. You only managed a couple hours of sleep and exhaustion is still very much present. Nor a surprise really, but you won’t be able to sleep again. There’s practice in the morning so unless you find a way to rest, things don’t look particularly exciting.

“Scoot over.”

“What?”

Your head snaps up towards the voice of your best friend. You can only see her silhouette in the darkness of the room. There’s no need to see her face to know she’s rolling her eyes at you with your lack of understanding.

“Move, Morgan. I’m not gonna stand here all night.”

Apparently, your body complies before your mind can process exactly what Janice wants. You move and she slips under the covers, pulling you close to her before you can try to complain. This is something you haven’t done in a long time; a hand on your waist is enough for your shoulders to relax a bit and you sigh in contentment.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper after a second, “didn’t mean to wake you up.”

A scoff is the thing you get as an answer. Janice knows you don’t do it to bother her. There are some things you can’t control, and she has always been there to make it better one way or another. Her slight annoyance is at your need to apologize, to take the blame for things you can’t be blamed for.

Still, she holds you tighter.

Your bad sleeping habits aren’t something new, but they haven’t been this bad in a long time. So, she worries. She does so because Janice is your best friend; you’ve been attached by the hip since you were born and it’s no wonder she knows you better than anyone else.

“What’s going on, Y/n?” She asks quietly.

Right then and there it’s the two of you with no one else to judge you. You’re safe and comfortable enough to open up to her, to share what’s in your mind and the things that make your heart heavy.

“I’m trying to let go.”

At some point everything you’ve been bottling up was bound to come crashing down on you. Crying on Sonnett’s shoulder can’t fix everything, you’re aware of that. But it’s a breaking point, the realization that you can’t keep going as you were without it taking a toll on you.

You built walls to protect yourself, to not feel the pain even when you were choking on it. And instead of keeping the sorrow out, you were drowning on it.

Your team came knocking on the door then. They threw you a lifesaver and opened a window to let all of that pour out. Taking care of the aftermath is on you, to put the broken things back in place and get rid of those that simply can’t be fixed.

It’s not easy, but it’s necessary.

Trying to process your emotions during the World Cup is perhaps the worst timing. It messes up your already screwed sleeping schedule, but well, it’s not always too bad. You’re learning things about yourself you didn’t know before, and rediscover those you forgot.

You’re becoming a better you instead of the shell you were so adamant on being.

You weren’t alone after Alex died, but the place you had considered your home was nothing more than a house. Suddenly, soccer was the sport Alex loved and little more. Sure, it was an escape, but also a prison; leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place.

You want the world to see you as more than just her daughter. At the same time, you don’t want them to forget her. Not when she did so much to inspire a revolution for equal pay, respect and overall appreciation for the sport. Not when her name is associated with the highest honors; world cups and Olympic medals, golden balls and boots and MVP’s.

Not when she means everything to you.

“You don’t have to let it all go.”

Some things might not be perfect now or ever, but they’re still worth holding onto.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“I know it’ll take some time still, but...you’re alright, Y/n. I promise.”

You mean to keep the conversation going, instead you yawn and rest your head on Janice’s shoulder. If her arm gets numb, she’s gonna have to shut it, or unceremoniously shove you off at seven am as you realize when you wake up abruptly.

You only open your eyes long enough to glare at her.

“Jerk,” you mutter lovingly.

“Go back to sleep, Morgan,” she retorts with a good natured laugh.

It’s a very, very, tempting offer, but you fight it off for another second.

“Thank you.”

Your words are almost silent, but you know she heard you when she pats your head. You’re already half asleep when you hear her answer.

“Got you.”

*****

“Oh my God! Is this how a fully rested Y/n is like?” Janice pants while trying to keep up.

“Yup.”

After practice ended, you stayed behind with one of the coaches for some extra work. Then Janice decided to join along with Press, Long and Krash. Before you knew it, the whole team had additional training. However, all but Janice yielded at the forty-five minute mark; too tired to keep going.

“I’m so not sleeping with you again then.”

“You could’ve left with the others,” you taunt.

“As if. Someone has to keep you in check here. Otherwise you’ll work out till tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

You doubt anyone can last that long, but you’re one of those that would probably try. It’s not the hill you wanna die on so you smile sheepishly at Janice when she makes another remark.

“Last five minutes?” You ask.

“Yes! Thank God!”

You can’t help but laugh at Janice’s antics. She’s still her usual self, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You slow down in those last minutes, to get your breathing and heartbeat slowed down gradually before stopping.

“We should visit the zoo.”

“Pretty sure I’ll only be visiting my bed after this.”

“Not today, you moron.” You say rolling your eyes. “But you know, next day off?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Finally getting off the stationary bike, you stretch before downing the rest of your water battle.

“Come on. It’s time for the ice bath.”

“Hasn’t this been torture enough?” Janice asks dramatically.

“Hurry up, O’Hara. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“If I don’t kill you first.”

“Oh, shut up. You love me.”

“Sadly.”

*****

“This is the most challenging match this team will face in the group stage. Germany was a tough challenge, but going against the host of this World Cup will tell us the chances to advance through the next round. Australia has grown while the USA went to less, and they’re the contenders for the title. If the USWNT wants to win it all, they have to go through this team first.”

“We must also consider the player rotation the USWNT will have on this game. That will certainly add to an already complicated game.”

Your heart beats along with the music in your earphones. It’s a way to keep your nerves at bay before you can finally make it out of the locker room. You’re on the bench for the day, but that doesn’t dwell your excitement of the game.

“Listen, guys!” Sonnet calls as you group around her and Pinoe. “We know the Aussies are good but so was Germany. So was Brazil, but we got the results we wanted. This won’t be different. We’re part of the group of death, and we’re conquering.”

All of you nod and cheer in agreement while Pinoe takes the lead.

It’s wild to say but you’re the underdog of this competition. However, this position allows you to be the dark horse.

No one expected you to win the first two games.

No one expects you to win against Australia.

No one really believes that you can win the World Cup. Not yet.

But you’re here, ready to fight to the last minute and the last breath.

“You already know what you gotta do on the field, now it’s time to do it.”

Five minutes later the team has elected Krash as the captain once again. With one last cheer, the starting lineup make their way to the tunnel while the rest of you head to the bench.

   “The final fixture of the group phase is here! And what a match it is. I think we can all agree that not having Morgan in the line-up is a surprise. Even with the much needed rotation on a tournament this important, you’d expect to see their best scorer on the field.”

“If there’s nothing stopping Y/n from playing, she should be in the game. Australia is far from an easy match, and maybe this is a sign of overconfidence from the USWNT. Their group is the group of death and even when they’re practically through with a tie here, they can’t get complacent now.”

“There’s only one way to find out. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for some soccer!”

The pace of the game is fast, so fast that some players can barely keep up.

Australia is the home team, they have all the advantages here, but even when they press high and seem to have the USWNT team cornered, they can’t get anything past Harris.

The goalie proves time and time again why she’s the captain. She brings security to the back of the field, and it’s there where everything begins. The defense get their heads on the game, stand tall to every onslaught and soon enough just a few balls make it through; none of them dangerous.

Then, the midfield does the same, pressing and recovering before launching forward. The game generation starts in a moment’s notice, guided by Sonnett giving instructions from the sideline. Everyone follows the plan, and soon enough they’re playing at top level.

Australia can’t get close enough, but neither can the USA.

At some point, Megan calls you to sit next to her. You do so without a word and for a long moment neither of you say anything. You watch the game in content silence.

“You remind me a lot of her,” she suddenly says.

The unexpectedness of her words forms a knot on your throat and you have to swallow harshly. Pinoe pretends not to notice, giving you a moment to compose yourself. She rarely talks about Alex; this is hard on her too. You can see it in the way her jaw clenches.

“It’s not just how you look or how you play. I know Harris is the captain, but you’re the heart. You help your team when they need it most, and they listen to you. More than that, they believe what you say.”

You listen silently, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, but it’s the good kind of emotion.

“Alex had this fierceness in her, not a bad bitch like Kelley,” she adds, making you chuckle. “But she had a fire about her. Sure, we all wanted to win every game. But not like her. I was there in her first World Cup and I knew, I just knew, she would be something special. And I’m sure she would have been so, so proud of you. You have that same fire, Y/n. And just like I was in her first, I am in yours. You’re also meant to do great things, something special.”

“Coach, I...”

But you have no words. You struggle not to break down in the middle of the match, but you manage. Barely.

“Don’t care about what the fucking world tells you, kid. You are every bit her daughter. But you’re also every bit yourself.”

Those two concepts are not exclusive, you can be both. You are her legacy, but that doesn’t stop you from creating your own. It starts here, with this World Cup. You have to prove, not to others, but yourself, that this is where you want to be.

No, this is where you belong.

“Whatever happens, you’ll enter at the sixtieth. After half time, you’re up to warm up right away, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, let’s keep pushing.”

*****

“That’s the end of the first half! It’s been a rocky game so far. Australia is a very competitive team. They have speed, agility, and a lot of talent on their ranks. But I think we’re seeing a USWNT that knows how to play each match. Even without Y/n on the field, they were able to keep the game even.  I see potential on this team, but will it be enough to win it all?”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. They’re not losing, but they’re not winning either. There’s still forty-five minutes to go, and several matches on this World Cup if they want to do something really meaningful. There’s a long road ahead if they wanna be anything like the Golden Team.”

You take a deep breath once it’s your time to warm up.

The rest of the world fades away as you crack your neck and Janice soon joins you to start. You’ll be the first two substitutions. You wanna strengthen the midfield and push forward with absolutely everything you have.

Maybe Alex isn’t physically there, but she’s in everything that ultimately makes you, you.

You warm up and remember when you joined your first little league team, with Alex holding your hand as you jumped around in excitement. You remember your first cleats with the same colors you wear now; a Christmas gift that made your eyes shine with awe.

You remember training with her when you had an important match in highschool and going out for dinner no matter the result.

Alex always had your back and now it’s not different; her number is now yours. As yours is the responsibility to continue what she started more than two decades ago.

She gives you strength and when you finally wait by the sideline to enter the game, you let go of the fear. You let go of the anger and even most of the pain.

It becomes a dull ache that you doubt will ever go away completely. But it’s better than the overwhelming grief you’ve carried on your shoulders all this time. You let go of the doubts and accept that they’re looking at you hoping to see a bit of the magic she had.

You’re not completely sure if it’s the same even after Rapinoe words. But you have magic, not just as individual players but as a team, and you’re here to prove it.

You look at Australia and don’t see them as the host anymore.

This is the World Cup. This turf is your home. You came here to stay until the end. And it wouldn’t matter if the World Cup was in Russia, South Africa, Japan or Argentina. The World Cup is your place. Soccer is your language, and lucky for you, is universal.

“Morgan has entered the game. What can she do with limited time?”

Australia’s defense is solid like a wall.

You…you are a wrecking ball.

A fistbump is exchanged with Janice and you take your place waiting for action to resume with a corner kick in their favor.

The whistle blows and the ball soars straight into Krash hands. You exchange a look and a nod with her before rushing up.

You enjoy the rush of adrenaline, pat one of your teammate’s shoulders on your way to the midfield and they understand to follow as you run past them. It’s something simple, quick and effective that draws the entire team into action.

The best way to wreck their defense is to use their offense against them. A high speed counter attack and they have no time to react. You see Long with the ball on the far right, she sees you on the left and you know exactly what’s going to happen.

Her pass is flawless as you enter the box from the left into your mother’s favorite definition zone. You see the last defender get lost in the play while the goalkeeper tries to close the angle. And she closes it, if you were to shoot with the right foot.

However, your mother had a saying.

Practice the left.

The goalkeeper has zero chance to stop the ball as it finds its way into the net.

  “That’s a goal! And what a goal it was. A magnificent shot from Morgan that could simply not be stopped.”

“She had created the space, and she didn’t waste it. It was a fantastic play from end to end that gave Australia no time to react. And I think we all saw a goal in true Morgan fashion with the first ball Y/n touches after being subbed in. With only fifteen minutes to play, I feel that this team is close to being group leaders.”

“What will this mean for them?”

“In the big picture? Little. But it’s a better chance facing the next round. They have some big names, and they got some big results. However, for a team with so much story as the USWNT, nothing but the title of Champions can be considered a Victory.”

“Do you think they have what it’s needed?”

“...Maybe.”

The team is all around you in a matter of seconds and you jump into Harry’s arms. Her assist was just sublime and you wouldn’t have had a chance otherwise. So you hug her tightly while everyone else cheers.

It’s just one goal, but in a game that has been so close and with little opportunities, it can very much mean securing the last three points.

But you keep pushing. You keep trying. There’s no way you’ll leave victory to chance when you’re close enough to grab it with both hands.

In the end, one goal is enough. The game ends and you get the win to go into the next round as group leaders. More than that, you feel like titans in a world of heroes. You’re ready for the glory, and there’s absolutely nothing and no one that can get in your way.

[shou-aizawa]

drained [dadzawa]

pairings: shouta aizawa & reader

warnings: sleep deprivation

summary: reader has a hard time sleeping and suffers the consequences. dadzawa helps out a lil’.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: alrighty, first post! funnily enough i had a completely different idea for a one shot but my own horrible sleeping habits and exhaustion led to me writing this instead. i’m sure it could be better, after all i wrote it on like.... no sleep, BUT im just happy i got anything written at all!

Y/N could barely keep her eyes open, the need to sleep tugging at her mind persistently and slowing her down. Her movements were heavier, less coordinated; feet dragging along the floor as she walked, nearly dropping her pencil nearly thirteen times in just one lesson. Not to mention her head was aching with no end in sight, a constant thumping at her temples.

It was simple. She was tired. Exhausted. Dead on her feet.

But it wasn’t like she’d stayed awake all night on purpose, god no. She’d laid in bed the night before for hours, tossing and turning, seemingly unable to find a comfortable position no matter how she positioned herself. 

By the time five a.m came around, she’d given up trying to fall asleep and chose to get up instead, she had an alarm set for five thirty anyway so what was the harm in getting an even earlier start than usual? It wasn’t the first time she’d done it either, her sleep schedule had been in shambles recently, so it was hard to stick to any solid routine.

She went on a morning jog, breathing in the fresh, morning air and feeling just that little bit more awake. When she got back to the dorms and showered, then fixed herself some breakfast, she was feeling almost normal, as if she’d slept through the night like she was supposed to.

Y/N was foolish enough to let herself be lured into this false sense of security; maybe she would actually make it through the day without much issue, then she could cuddle up in her bed that night and catch up on the sleep she’d missed out on.

Oh how foolish she was.

She lasted maybe three hours into the school day before her lack of sleep began to catch up with her, and her focus crashed. Concentrating on what Present Mic was trying to teach felt gradually more and more impossible. Taking notes? Forget it. Her handwriting was sloppy and the pen just wouldn’t stop slipping out of her fingers.

It was infuriating. Y/N didn’t even realise tears of frustration were pooling in her eyes until one of them dripped down onto her notebook. She gasped quietly in surprise, quickly dropping her pen - on purpose this time - and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

Once she was sure her eyes were dry, she risked a look around the room. At first glance it seemed as though no one had noticed, but when she looked again, paying more attention this time around, she caught the worried glances some of her friends were throwing her way.

She caught Uraraka’s eye, noticing the worried frown on the girl’s face, and quickly sent a small, hopefully reassuring smile her way. Uraraka didn’t seem exactly convinced… or did she? Honestly Y/N was struggling to decipher the expression on her friend’s face, and decided to just turn back to Present Mic’s lecture, picking her pen back up with a shaking hand.

She could do this. All she had to do was get through the rest of this class, lunch, training, homework, then she could finally sleep. It’d be fine. Definitely.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl from that point on. What Y/N could’ve sworn was an hour, turned out to just be ten, agonising minutes. When the class was finally dismissed for lunch, she packed her notebooks away, only to have one slip from her grasp and fall to the floor with a dull thump, some of the pages crumpling in the process.

She cursed under her breath, reaching down to pick it up, only for it to be lifted by someone else. Could she not do anything by herself?! She glanced up with a frown and was met with the concerned looks of her friends. It was now that she noticed the classroom was practically empty save for her and her friends, and a couple other stragglers. When did time suddenly decide to go faster? It didn’t seem exactly fair.

“Here you go!” Midoriya said quickly, attempting to straighten some of the notebook pages out before handing it back to Y/N. She blinked, then took it carefully, making sure to keep a tight grip on it as she slotted it into her backpack between her other books.

“Thanks,” she said, surprised at how quiet her voice was, but deciding not to dwell on it and instead zipping her backpack up and slinging it over her shoulder before standing up. “I should be more careful, I guess,” she added with a shrug, forcing a chuckle that apparently did nothing to ease her friends’ worry.

“Are you alright, Y/L/N?” Iida spoke up, tilting his head slightly with the question, his brow furrowed with concern more than anything. She couldn’t look that bad, right?

It took her a second to think of a reply. “Me? I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be?” She said, a nervous laugh following the answer. “You know what I am as well as fine? Hungry. That’s what. Let’s go to lunch already!” She announced, forcing what she hoped was some sort of brightness into her tone, then making her way towards the classroom door.

“I saw you, uhm, crying.. In class earlier,” Uraraka said as she and the other two followed. “Just got a little worried, that’s all,” she smiled slightly, and Y/N felt a pang of guilt for making her friends worry.

“Oh- yeah, that. I just got a bit of dust in my eye, I think,” she said over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” she added, smiling apologetically.

Once again, her friends didn’t seem convinced and Y/N had to wonder if she was really such a bad liar. Not like it mattered. She would be fine by tomorrow, she just had to get through today! She was sure that if she just got some food in her, she would get just enough energy to actually make it through.

Oh boy, was she wrong.

Lunch had gone fine, Y/N had managed to choke some food down and even join in the conversation at her table. She still got the odd worried glance, but she hardly even noticed. For just a little while, she felt better, less… well, dead.

And then training started.

It wasn’t anything that she would usually have a problem with; just some sparring with her classmates. But the problem was she just couldn’t keep up. Her blocks were sloppy, her punches weak, and all the while, a strong headache thrummed in her temples, making her feel as though at any moment she would just lose her lunch.

Not wanting to back out, however, she kept going with training, trying to push herself to be quicker and make herself look less pathetic than she currently did. Her headache seemed dead set on stopping her though, getting stronger with each passing minute.

She was paired up with Kaminari when it all just got too much. In all honesty, the blond kicked her ass. Y/N just lacked the strength to keep herself upright, nevermind raising her arms to attempt any kind of defense, she still tried, she couldn’t just give up so easily.

She’d just smacked one of Kaminari’s punches away, and was taking a second to catch her breath, when his fist came flying back, landing right on her cheek. The impact shook her and she stumbled back, tripping over her own feet and landing on the mat heavily. The pain in her head seemed to double- no, triple, and when she tried to move, to get up, her body barely responded.

“What’d you do, Kaminari?!”

“What do you mean ‘what did I do!?’ I just did what-”

Some part of Y/N knew that she should open her eyes, try to reassure everyone that she was fine, but the rest of her was just relieved to be lying down, to finally be getting some rest. The last thing she remembered was someone calling her name, and a hand on her shoulder, then she slipped into unconsciousness, getting the rest she desperately needed.

When she opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was a stark white ceiling. She felt a lot more comfortable than she last remembered being, and glancing down at herself she realised she was tucked into one of the beds in Recovery Girl’s office. She was mostly confused, wondering how she’d gotten there and, more importantly, what had happened.

Someone cleared their throat next to her and Y/N immediately sat up and glanced over, eyes wide in surprise. She let herself relax just a little when she saw it was just Mr Aizawa. Emphasis on ‘a little’.

“Mr Aizawa, sir!” She said, coughing a little afterwards, her throat felt way too dry. Her teacher held out a bottle of water, and she took it after a moment’s hesitation, uncapping it and taking a couple small sips. “I- what happened?”

“Sleep deprivation,” the man said simply, and Y/N had a feeling he was familiar with the symptoms himself. “You pushed yourself too hard on too little sleep, and ended up getting knocked unconscious by Kaminari.” He paused. “You gave him a bit of a scare, he thought he’d killed you with that punch.”

The fuzzy memories Y/N had became a little clearer, and she lowered her gaze, fidgeting with the blanket.. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would get so out of hand.”

Aizawa gave her a questioning look, and after a moment she continued.

“I’ve just- haven’t been able to sleep too well recently,” she mumbled. “Waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep, that kind of stuff. I had a bad night where I just didn’t get to sleep at all and- I thought I could just take a nap after school or something, I felt fine for a while, so I didn’t think it’d be so bad.”

“You can’t push yourself like that, Y/L/N.” Aizawa said, his voice seeming to take on a more gentle tone. “Getting enough sleep is important, it should be a priority. So if you’re struggling to sleep, talk to someone about it; me, Recovery Girl, any of the teachers, really. We’re here to help you after all. Got it?”

Y/N nodded after a moment, taking a deep breath. “Got it. Thank you, Mr Aizawa.”

He nodded too, reaching out and giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze before standing up. “Recovery Girl’s going to keep you on bed rest for a while, just until you can get that sleep cycle of yours back in order. I’ll have one of your friends bring you notes from the classes you missed today so that you can catch up whilst you’re here.”

Y/N frowned, processing that. “Wait- What do you mean- how long was I out for?”

“Just under twenty-four hours, give or take.”

She groaned, mostly out of annoyance at the fact that she now had to play catch up. Aizawa chuckled slightly.

“Don’t stress yourself out, Y/L/N,” he said. “You’ll get back up to speed no problem. For now, just focus on resting, alright?”

Y/N nodded, then watched Aizawa leave. Once alone, she couldn’t resist wrapping herself up in the cozy blankets and letting her eyes slip shut again, drifting off to sleep in a much more peaceful manner this time around.

[queenlokibeth]

I wanted to mention a couple of things about mental health that I think are important.

I'm doing relatively well at the moment. I've managed to go to bed before 2am most days, usually at midnight, and I've gotten 6-7 hours of sleep every night. I've eaten at least 2 full proper meals at reasonable times every day. I haven't turned in any homework late. I have to consciously fight off executive dysfunction but I do manage to win. I'm doing relatively well, which is how I notice just how badly I was doing just a month and a half ago.

What I want to say is that, when you're going through a rough mental health patch (especially if that patch is like a year or more) you might be aware that "sure, yeah, I'm not doing well" but it can also sort of feel like that's just... the way it is.

In December I consciously knew that I was having an awful time, quite probably the deepest hole in terms of mental health in my life, but I had also already been living like that for almost a year, and I transitioned into this hole more or less slowly. So last December I knew that I wasn't feeling or behaving the way that I did a year before that, but it wasn't a drastic change, I eased into that pit. Think about that metaphor about dropping a frog into boiling water and it will jump out, but slowly boil it and it won't notice and die.

I was conscious about the big things: for some reason I physically couldn't get myself to start tasks. I was distracted all the time. My sleeping schedule was something like 4am-10am when I wasn't pulling an all-nighter. I was showering once a week, did laundry every 6 weeks, and lost a lot of weight. I didn't want to do anything and I had no will to go outside. I wanted to read a book but not out of real pursuit of fun, but because I felt like I desperstely needed to catch a break and force myself to do something nice for myself. What I was obviously not conscious of was what was causing all of this.

Being in a pit of terrible mental health feels somehow even worse when you are fully aware that you're completely unhealthy, and you can pinpoint all the things that aren't working right, and you try to do all the correct things to "go back to normal", but you can't, and after a year you don't really remembers what your normal feelings or reactions to things were. In this awful state I was trying to manifest a version of myself who got her shit together and showered regularly and turned homework in on time and did laundry without it taking the same effort as hiking up a mountain, but this version of myself still had the same mental state, numbness, and mental fog, since that's all I knew at the time and I couldn't remember or understand that that's not my default state as a human being. And under that cloud of malfunctioning mental connections and chemicals I was NEVER going to manage to start functioning like a healthy person again.

Why am I pointing out all of this? Because it can be hard to realise how different things can be when you start getting healthier. There are factors of my personality that I hadn't even identified as altered in December.

I'm noticing this now because I did somehow transitioned into recovering extremely quickly. While it took me a few months to fall into a shit state of mental health, and then stayed there for like a year, now in about 3 weeks to a month I flipped my life around and everything is so much... brighter.

I don't mean for this to sound like an ad a la "you can, too, flip your life around!" But as reassurance that getting better is an option, and even a "quick" one, but obviously not without help, and not without PHYSICAL aspecrs. During that month I spent time in warmer weather, seeing sun semi regularly (I had not been outside for longer than 15 minutes at a time every few days in extremely cloudy weather for a few months at that point), I didn't have school so I didn't have to stress about a destroying amount of deadlines, I "recovered" sleep (the first day I slept for 14 hours, then 10 for a few days, and then dropped to 8 consistently), I ate healthy and hearty food, and I had conversations daily with my parents, after having been completely alone for about 7 months of not talking to anyone. During the first 2 weeks I still felt like a mess, the third week was better, and by the end of the month I felt vaguely functional.

By now I'm in no way fully better but Everything Is So Different. Now I'm realising and coming back to the way I always used to behave and feel about things. I find real joy in things and I hadn't even noticed that for a year I had NOT felt joy about ANYTHING I was merely using things to cope! And I hadn't noticed because I could no longer remember that a different feeling beyond "neutral" existed!

I'm excited about going outside now even if it's so so cold, I realised the other day that I needed something from the store and I just... put on my coat and went to the door? And i surprised myself mid step that it was just... that easy. I wanted to go somewhere and I could just... go. I didn't have to psych myself up for 3 days and then end up delaying my departure by 2 hours because that's how long it took me to find the will to put my shoes on.

Anyways I saw a candle and it was only $2 and it smelled really good and I just bought it because I deserve things that make me happy and then I bought some cinnamon flavoured coffee because I WANTED to try it and I also bought this coffee creamer that I saw because suddenly it was easy to just reach into the grocery store fridge and pull it out instead of planning it a week in advance and then overthinking it because do I really need it do I have space in the fridge am I going to finish it or will it expire first only to get overwhelmed and leave the store without it only to immediately regret it and get sad about not getting it once I arrived back to my room. I enjoy drinking my coffee now, I'm not just doing it to stay awake. I can actually get out of bed at the right time even if I'm still a bit tired because the sun is coming up and it looks pretty outside. It snowed yesterday and everyone was out at night playing with it and a stray snowball reached me while I was on my way to get dinner. This poor guy that I'd never seen apologised profusely and it was so funny! There was something about everyone in masks and standing 6 feet apart taking advantage of snowball fights as a way to interact with each other that felt straight out of a Hallmark movie.

Bottomline: at your worst there isn't anything that looks tangibly better, but there is, and you start to realise it afterwards. While you should definitely go to therapy if you can/need to, and that meds can be necessary, there is so much that you can start slowly fixing (with a lot of effort, I know) that will seriously, seeiously help. I know that it might sound like bullshit or like an oversimplification, but it's true and it's stuff that you'll never truly believe will work until you're doing better and you're like "oh shit damn".

Please sleep. Please sleep at night time and have a semi regular sleeping schedule. I know that it sounds like it won't be enough (and true, by itself it probably won't heal you completely but it will sure help a lot). I would always "understand" that sleep was important and "yes mom i know that I need to sleep better" but I never interiorised how DRAMATICALLY sleep affects your entire life. Regular, good, nighttime sleep helps regulate all the hormones and chemicals that we need. If your fucked up sleeping schedule shut down production of serotonin, congratulations now you have all the awful symptoms that come along with lacking an essential component of your functioning. And I know that it's often a terrible vicious cycle of not being able to sleep properly or procrastinating sleep or being unable to just go to bed causing mental health problems which continue to prevent you from being able to fix youe sleep pattern. Please take it from me, someone who a month ago felt like she'd genuinely never be able to function semi properly again, that forcing yourself to fix your sleep is a HUGE MEGA STEP towards fully recovering. I know it now because I can see the contrast, but a month ago I didn't understand it because I was like "well yeah I need to sleep better but what's the point I'm fine it won't change much" yeah well my brain is an asshole and I was not in fact fine but rather completely empty inside and just going the fuck to sleep semi regularly has made me feel like a real person instead of a weird cryptid for the first time in months. Just go the fuck to sleep, PLEASE.

[sign-from-god-complex]

cuddles and catnaps

Summary: Logan was absolutely exhausted. Thankfully, Roman’s there to help.

Pairing: Platonic logince 

Warnings: Brief description of emotional numbness, very non-serious mention of hypothetical murder and lots of sleep-deprivation/insomnia-related things.

A/N: I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to write the logince conversation I wish they’d have in canon. Just let my boys get along!!! It’s what they deserve.

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

It was a quiet night, and Logan was awake.

This wasn't uncommon necessarily—rest did not always come easily to the logical side and it had been a particularly busy week—but it was frustrating nonetheless. He'd tried to relax, tried breathing techniques and distractions and anything else he could think of but it was no use; Logan simply couldn't sleep.

It had been a problem for the past few nights, in fact. Logan's mind wouldn't stop whirring with all the potential outcomes or solutions to the most recent dilemma Thomas was having and he was unable to untangle his thoughts from it.

He thought that he managed to get an hour or so of sleep last night but honestly he couldn't say for sure; things were beginning to blend together slightly.

As the clock hit 3 am, Logan decided to give up trying. He recalled hearing about how merely pretending to sleep makes you feel more rested than if you were to get up and stay awake but, quite honestly, if Logan had to lay here one more minute he felt he may figuratively explode.

Slipping out from under the sheets, he walked over to open the door and head down to the commons, hoping that if he generated a change in scenery it might prompt his body to allow him at least a nap. Best-case scenario, he would manage to fall asleep on the couch while watching a documentary.

He crept down the hallway as quietly as possible, noting the absence of light from under the doors of his fellow sides. It was common for them to be in bed at this time—provided Thomas was as well—but it also wasn't unheard of for them to be a little too worked up to get to sleep, much as Logan was right now. It seemed, however, that the others were asleep, which simultaneously comforted and distressed him.

It was obviously beneficial for the other three to be getting optimal sleep and rest. Not only was it better for them but it was better for Thomas as well—things tended to go awry when any one side was particularly sleep-deprived. 

Roman's reaction to lack of sleep was actually quite typical. You could tell Roman hadn't been sleeping well simply because he seemed tired. Not sleepy, that was vastly different. No, Roman tended to look exhausted, trailing around and reacting sluggishly to any input from the other sides. His usual vigour and bounce were missing, replaced with mostly blank looks and absent stares.

It was actually the easiest of the four's behaviours to recognise and the other sides always rushed to get him to bed when they picked up on it. They could always afford a day off for Roman's health.

Plus, of course, Thomas's productivity greatly suffered when Roman wasn't at his best. Without Thomas's creativity, videos were extremely difficult if not impossible to complete, with any attempted acting being subpar and any attempted writing being worse than that. That's not even to mention the kind of slump Thomas fell into when Roman became particularly exhausted; it was upsetting to witness their host look so dejected and quiet. Truly, taking a day off was always the best course of action.

Virgil's response to sleep deprivation was mostly avoidance. He tended to put as much distance between himself and the other three as was possible, and luckily enough, the three of them had quickly learnt to spot it.

Getting Virgil to sleep was actually vastly more difficult than Roman. Roman generally whined slightly but was really too exhausted to protest all that much; Virgil, however, got angry when he was tired. His jabs were never taken personally past the first time it occurred—the others understood that Virgil's lashing out was not out of malice but more out of frustration and a feeling of being overwhelmed—though it was still jarring. Virgil was usually angry for them more so than at them nowadays but with exhaustion he became terse, snapping at anyone who dared to lend a helping hand.

Though it took slightly more effort, they usually got through the facade pretty quickly, watching Virgil just entirely deflate and forcibly cuddling him to sleep.

And when Virgil was tired and angry and distant, Thomas was a wreck. Thomas dealt with his emotions far better than Virgil did but that didn't mean he didn't feel them. When Virgil was like this, all the little things that Thomas could normally deal with managed to get to him—sharp noises and abrupt motions causing him to flinch and glare and any small inconvenience suddenly becoming the indicator of a horrible day. Thomas's optimism tended to fly right out the window when Virgil hadn't slept and it was troublesome, to say the least.

Patton became considerably stressed when he was tired. It was something that seemed to tie in quite closely to his general need to bottle up his feelings. Instead of dealing with his insomnia, Patton would stress clean, would obsess over every tiny detail and was just not capable of turning off for even a second. It wasn't uncommon on days like that to see Patton puttering around the mindscape, fixing things that didn't need fixing and straightening things that didn't need straightening—picking at every perceived flaw he came across.

Getting Patton to bed was potentially the hardest. He was always so worked up, so tense and so fixated that it was like dragging Logan away in the middle of hyperfocusing. Patton wouldn't fight them the way Virgil did but he just wouldn't take a single breath and it would take several hours of calming distractions and soft blankets to get him to drift away.

Thomas did not tend to be productive on those days. When Patton was as consumed by his thoughts as he was, Thomas couldn't concentrate in the slightest, instead, he tended to opt for rewatching old episodes of his favourite TV shows and steadily ignoring his growing piles of responsibilities with some form of detached concern. He knows he should be worried but quite honestly, he couldn't bring himself to feel much at all besides numb.

Patton would always apologise over and over in the wake of the incident but Thomas was always very kind in his responses, citing that it was probably time he took a rest day anyway.

Logan wasn't exactly sure what his own reaction was to being sleep deprived, not the way he was aware of the other sides. It wasn't something he'd had to pay all that much attention to, considering with the others he was always needed to help resolve the situation, however, with himself he clearly was not. There was one thing Logan was sure of, though.

Lack of sleep made Logan stupid.

It wasn't necessarily the nicest way to put it but he would be lying if he said he didn't think it was accurate. 

When Logan was tired, he made mistakes—stupid mistakes, mistakes he couldn't really afford to make. They didn't always have real-world consequences, such as accidentally spreading Crofters onto his cell phone instead of his toast, but sometimes they did. Sometimes Logan calculated the risks incorrectly or gave Thomas faulty information and the guilt ate him up inside every single time. It wasn't as if he was doing it maliciously but that wasn't the point, the point was that Logan should be more careful. Exhaustion just made it harder for him to do that.

And one of the kinds of frivolous mistakes Logan tended to make in his fatigue was with his emotions.

Logan kept his emotions largely under lock and key, however, when he becomes tired they tend to get the best of him, generally presenting itself in some unwarranted and entirely uncalled for tears. His crying could be due to anything—it could be due to a change in schedule or a misplaced document or even a lack of milk—or it could be due to absolutely nothing at all. Logan hated it. He hated feeling out of control and he hated the pitying looks he received from the other sides as they tried to comfort him and make him sleep.

Because another mistake Logan made with his emotions when he was tired was his want for physical affection.

Logan was willing to indulge in physical contact for the sake of the other sides—for example, if Patton was sad and required a hug or to help Virgil stay calm and relaxed as he tried to get some sleep—but Logan did not need those things himself. He found them to be largely unnecessary and marginally uncomfortable—though he wouldn't tell the others that because he's still willing to suffer through it for their sakes.

Sleep-deprived Logan, however, never seemed to get the memo.

When Logan reached a certain point of exhaustion, he found himself craving the warmth of the other sides. Wanting soft hands threading through his hair and limbs tangled in with his, wanting to feel limitless and infinite in the darkness and yet so small in relation to the vast expanse of the universe. He wanted to go somewhere in the imagination where they could see the stars, to feel the wind brushing past his skin but feeling secure in the knowledge that he was safe and warm and loved wrapped up in the others’ arms.

Fatigue also made him maudlin, though he would not for the life of him admit it.

Logan descended the stairs, wincing somewhat as one of the steps creaked under his foot and pausing for a moment, waiting to receive confirmation that he hadn't awoken any of the other sides. Hearing nothing, Logan continued his journey, settling onto the living room floor with a quiet exhale. He glanced in the direction of the couches and hesitated as he noticed a glow coming from the television. Though the brightness was turned down quite considerably, the TV was unmistakably on.

Knowing that he was the last person to leave the commons that evening lead Logan to the conclusion that he was incorrect in his assumption that the other sides were all asleep in their rooms. All he could see on the couch, however, was a pile of blankets and cushions.

Possibly he had just forgotten to turn the TV off after he left. Or, maybe, one of the others had come down at some point during the evening before once again retiring to their rooms, and they had forgotten to turn it off. He had to admit that it didn't seem likely that he had left the TV on, though given his current state it may not be entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Logan took a seat next to the pile of blankets on the couch and after grabbing the remote from in between the couch cushions, changed the channel over to the Discovery Channel and turned the volume down low. It seemed to be some documentary on symbiotic animal relationships or something to that extent, and while Logan would normally be interested he was quite honestly too tired to really follow along.

There were a few minutes of Logan attempting to parse the images on the screen before he decided that a blanket would likely be conducive to falling asleep. He went to grab one off of the top of the pile—the red knitted one Roman tended to prefer. In this action, however, he uncovered a body.

And Logan, still too tired to process anything useful, fell off the couch.

His immediate assumption was that Virgil had murdered someone and tried to hide the body under every blanket and cushion he could find in the house. He quickly—though not as quickly as he would have liked—dismissed this as a nonsensical thought. Virgil was far too anxious to kill anyone. He entertained the idea of Roman having killed someone for a slightly longer moment before also rejecting the idea. Roman had morals, or something to that extent anyway, even if he was far more likely to think that hiding a body under a mound of blankets was a good strategy.

Finally, Logan realised that he’d been sitting on the floor for approximately 3 whole minutes and getting up to take a look at the body on the couch may be the most reasonable course of action. He shook his head with a sigh. He really was off today.

Rising to his feet, Logan peered at the figure on the couch. Though the person was primarily obscured by the mountain of blankets, he could see a glimpse of red and gold pyjama pants. They looked startlingly similar to Roman’s pair—a Christmas present from Patton that had since become his go-to—thus, Logan concluded either this person was dressed up in Roman’s clothes or it was Roman and he was inclined to believe the latter.

Logan removed a few more blankets from the pile in an attempt to validate his assumption and was greeted by brown hair, closed eyes and a soft expression. It was, indeed, Roman.

Now, Logan had a decision to make. Either he could turn the TV off, leave Roman to sleep and head back to his room where he would remain alone until the other sides woke up for breakfast…

Or he could wake Roman up.

He knew the desire was selfish but with Roman looking as peaceful as he was he couldn’t help but wish to join him in his cocoon. It looked so warm and Logan was so, so tired. 

He only really considered it for a moment before giving in. With enough sacrificed Crofter’s and endured teasing, Roman would forgive him, and he was too exhausted to have any sense of self-control.

Logan placed his hand on Roman’s shoulder, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to wake him up without jarring him too much. As he was pulled from sleep, Roman made a sound similar to those "startup noises" that cats make when you first touch them, blinking open his eyes. Something about it was strangely endearing and Logan tried to ignore the way he felt his chest warm at the sight.

“Lo?” Roman mumbled, rubbing at his eyes sleepily, “What’re you doin’ up?”

“I was… unable to sleep.”

Logan shuffled his feet awkwardly, feeling a sense of embarrassment rush through him. Dear lord, this was utterly pathetic. What was he thinking? He had absolutely no need to awaken Roman, just because his skin felt so cold and he was so, so tired and he only wanted to be held and warm and loved- 

Ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. Roman, at most, tolerated his presence and Logan was firmly overstepping his boundaries here.

Roman stared blankly for a few seconds. “Oh…”

“I apologise for waking you, Roman,” Logan said, attempting to rectify his obvious mistake, “I should go back to my room now.”

He made a motion to turn back towards the stairs, trying to fight the disappointment in his chest and the craving for warmth that was still gnawing at him but was interrupted by Roman putting out a hand to stop him. Roman shook his head a few times, blinking quickly as he tried to wake himself up a little bit more. 

“No, no, wait. What is it?”

“I was just…” Logan cleared his throat, trying to steel himself for Roman’s possible reaction. “I was wondering if I could…”

He trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the mountain of blankets Roman was still encompassed in. Roman’s face broke into a small smile and he reached out to grab Logan’s hand, tugging it gently, just enough to prompt him to take a step forward.

“C’mere, nerd.” Roman’s voice was incredibly fond and Logan was slightly worried that he may start crying just from the sound of it.

Ducking his head, Logan climbed onto the couch near Roman, trying not to startle as Roman grabbed his arm and pulled him into the blankets beside him.

The blanket pile was incredibly warm and soft. Almost the second Logan landed, he could feel his heart rate decreasing—already infinitely calmer than he had been upstairs. He closed his eyes as he felt Roman wrap his arms around him, tears leaking out the corners of them without his permission.

Gods, this was so much better than being alone.

He could feel Roman pressed against him, warmth sinking to his core and melting away all of the stress and tension his body had been holding onto. A hand had sunk into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and giving him a pleasant sensation to focus on to calm his thoughts. He pressed in closer to Roman, burying his head in the crook of his neck as his body betrayed him and he just started to sob.

He hated this—he hated it because it was never his choice, just a constant build-up of emotions that expanded in his chest until it burst—but Roman felt safe. So maybe, just once, it was okay.

There was gentle shushing, whispered affirmations as Roman held Logan’s shaking frame as tight as he could and ran his hands lightly along his skin. He didn’t know how long they remained there—whether it was 5 minutes or an hour—but once Logan was able to catch his breath he choked out an apology. An apology that was quickly brushed off.

“You have nothing to apologise for, Lo,” Roman insisted, carding his hand through Logan’s hair and watching the other lean into it, “I want to help you. I know I haven’t always been… the best, when it comes to dealing with you but… I just need you to know that though I may argue with Logic, that doesn’t mean I’m arguing with Logan.”

Logan untucked his head from Roman’s shoulder, bringing his gaze up to give him a confused look.

“We are the same person, Roman.”

Roman screwed up his face for a moment. “No, no, I mean… just because we argue doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you, you know? We, by definition, are always going to have differing opinions but even though I'm bad at admitting it, I do recognise your things are important too. I’m just stubborn. And despite our disagreements, I do enjoy having you around, Logan.”

“Oh.” 

Logan blinked, processing that for a moment.

It wasn’t as if he’d thought Roman hated him; he didn’t believe any of the sides truly hated each other (except potentially Virgil and Deceit, though even that, he theorised, was born from a place of caring too much). Simply, Logan had felt as if Roman put up with him mostly out of necessity. As Roman had stated, Logic was crucial—despite how little he liked to admit it—and, of course, it would be unwise to disregard Logan completely. Roman’s admission was certainly… unexpected.

“Well… you too, Roman,” Logan replied softly.

Roman’s eyebrows shot up, face vulnerable and uncertain. “Really?”

“Of course.”

There was something about being here—enclosed in Roman’s arms so late in the night, the only illumination of their forms coming from the TV behind him, the air almost silent—that made Logan feel as if the consequences of being open may not be as bad as he feared.

So, instead of ending his statement there, Logan pushed on.

“I don’t… understand a lot of the things you consider to be important. I don’t understand fantasy or metaphors or how to please people. If I was left in sole control of writing the scripts for Thomas’s content, though the final product would be educational and factually accurate, it would be… boring. I am boring, I know this. I just… I don’t appreciate having to rely on other people—and I don’t like not understanding things—and more often than not, I take that frustration out on you. That is unfair of me.”

Roman chuckled, low and quiet, and it felt like an acknowledgement of all the mistakes they’d made and all of the mistakes they would no doubt continue to make. “I suppose we both have things to work on, then.”

In response, Logan simply hummed. He felt drowsy and content, reassured that despite what he may have thought, everything between them was okay. They lay there for a while more, Logan teetering on the edge of unconsciousness before Roman spoke again, breaking the silence between them.

“You aren’t boring though, you know that, right?”

Logan made a questioning sound, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“I mean, you get so excited about space that you wave your hands around as you explain things and you have such strong opinions about the smallest of things and you’re stubborn and quick-tempered and absolutely brilliant.” At that declaration, Logan did open his eyes, seeing Roman looking down at him with a shy smile on his face. “You could never be boring, Logan. Not really.”

“Thank you.” It was a whispered response, tired and grateful, but Roman heard it nonetheless.

Logan moved a hand up in front of his face to stifle a yawn and he saw Roman grin, drawing Logan closer into his chest. “Sleep now, nerd. You can talk about how much you love and adore me in the morning.”

“You are incorrigible,” Logan replied but his tone was teasing rather than cruel.

In response, Roman gave a breathy laugh. Evidently, he decided it wasn’t worth it to argue, instead, reaching to grab one of the blankets and tugging it over their bodies. He clicked off the TV, tossing the remote onto the couch away from them.

“Goodnight, Lo,” Roman said, voice barely more than an exhale. 

Logan mumbled a vague response, feeling himself relax completely once again, his eyes falling shut and breathing steadying out. Rather than circling, planning and plotting a hundred different scenarios for tomorrow or solutions to problems that don’t even exist yet, Logan’s thoughts were quiet. All of his focus was on the heat of Roman’s body and the darkness covering them both like a blanket.

And, after just a few short moments—Logan feeling safe and warm, wrapped up in Roman’s arms—Logan finally fell asleep.

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

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @mctaetae613 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @kee-and-co @autistic-virgil @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams 

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chisaki, Aizawa, Shinsou with a Healer Fem!S/O who is wronged

Basically, I realised that a lot of my effort was for nothing because a teacher was incredibly mean with me and just did NOT want to pass me, and it made me feel horrible, so hey, why not write comfort stuff so I could feel better?

Chisaki Kai

“Your mark is 3, you failed, go study more and you’ll resit this exam in Summer.” I heard the teacher say with a taunting smirk, looking down at me, letting me to leave the examination room.

I was rooted to the spot, gaping at him like I was a retarded cat, but I just couldn’t understand where I went wrong? Everything I said was textbook-correct...HE wrote the textbook and drew all the sketches at courses...So why was what I said wrong? He said that everything I said was wrong...That it was false information... But how could it be false...If that’s what he taught us?

What...In the world...Is going on...?

With a robotic movement, I somehow got home, back to Chisaki’s basement, without even realising since my mind was still stuck on that moment.

I failed...

I’m a straight A+ student, a Doctor in training and for the first time, that’s what I hear...

How could I fail?

I’ve been studying for so long, with no breaks-

I’ve been drinking 6 coffees per day, lots of pepsi, ate lots of chocolate, just to stay awake this last week so I could study and study- I even went past all the panic attacks I had for the past days, just so I could study for this dissection exam-

Only to get asked 3 things, which I answered easily in the blink of an eye and to be told they’re all wrong and make no sense.

“S/O...S/O...What’s with you?...Answer already...” there was someone trying to get my attention, but all I could hear was an irritating voice that was trying to take me away from my thoughts, so I snapped at them, ready to burn them to crisps with my Fire Quirk.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WA-...Huh? Chisa...Ki? What the...Wait, when did I get here...?” I asked, completely shocked at what was going on, putting out the fire in my hand. “About 10 minutes ago. Why are you crying? Who do I have to kill?” he asked, fire igniting in his eyes. “I’m...Crying...? Mhh...I...I think I need to...Calm down for a bit...See you at dinner...Or somethin’...” I muttered, dragging myself to my room, turning off the blinds to make complete darkness, getting in bed, not even bothering to change into lighter clothes. Instead, I took off my lab coat and screamed in rage as I burnt it and allowed myself to sob myself to sleep, under the covers, my head full of self-depracating thoughts.

When I woke up, it was dark as hell and checking the time on my phone, I realise that in fact, it was midnight, but I’ve been sleeping for more than 24 hours and this was the farthest thing from normal, which made me panic and yelp in shock.

I never realised it before, but this week was so horrible for me since I stressed myself out beyond belief and compromised my health, but now I can feel the terrible headache and the stomach ache, and even worse, the beginning of a new panic attack.

This wasn’t normal...Not okay at all...And for what? For a failure?!

I was so absorbed in my thoughts, again, that I didn’t realise the door opened until a low voice called out my name, which made me jolt and turn to said person.

Again, it was Chisaki, with a tray in his hands.

“Do you need me for something? Files to sign or read? Hacking? A massage?” I asked out of habit, even though I was too exhausted to do either of them. “You idiot, what have you done to yourself? You look like you just woke up from your grave.” he asked, sitting on the bed, putting the tray in front of him. “I feel much worse than you described, but thanks for compliment.” I muttered, trying to laugh, but even for that I had no energy. “So who do I have to kill?” he said, taking off his beak mask. “Mhh...I don’t know, maybe me...I just get get where I went wrong?! I...I’ve been studying so hard...And I get a...A 3 as a grade? I fail with the lowest mark?! Like...Why? Because of some old geezer who looks down on me for being young and he says that everything I say is wrong, even though it’s textbook stuff? Like...What did I do wrong to deserve this, Kai?! Why me?!” I tried to say between sobs, my voice a complete mess, but not as worse than my face, probably. “Come here.” he commanded, to which I could only force myself to crawl next to him, but to my surprise, he...Hugged me. Chisaki Kai had his arms around me, petting my hair and just...Staying there.

“K-Kai...?” I whispered, still in shock. “Tell me his name, and he’s dead. I will not have my fiance have her health put at risk and suffer several panic attacks only to hear that she failed something she is perfect at. You’re going to become an official Doctor and the whole Underground world is going to beg to be treated by you. Now, tell me his name and I will make him suffer for his insolence. Nobody is allowed to treat my Queen with superiority.” he growled, clearly burning with rage, which made my heard skip a few beats, moved by his words. “Thank you, Kai...Thank you so much...I thought I was going insane from this injustice...It hurt so much...And to heart that I f-failed...Urgh...And...I honestly hate coffee, I don’t want to have to drink so much that I’m shaking from it...” I cringed at the memory, only holding him tighter, feeling warm and safe for the first time in a long time.

The whole night he just made sure that I ate properly and slept enough, creating a fixed schedule that he personally attended, to make sure I won’t ruing my health over something so petty, and yet, he also made sure no source of unnatural stress occurred again.

Thanks to that, he went to the teacher, made him change my mark to 100%, to match my other ones, then made the Shie Hassaikai stalk the teacher, made him paranoid, before they captured him and got him to the base, where Chisaki tortured him to death and I got to watch in satisfaction, feeling all the stress go away with each scream of agony, getting filled with complete satisfaction.

Now who failed, bitch?!

Aizawa Shouta

This was it, the most important time for both Aizawa-kun, myself and our friends, the exam day when we’ll finally become Pro-Heroes. Of course, because of our Quirk differences, he and Yamada-kun will be the fighters, while I will be the Healer, making sure everybody is okay. That’s how all good teams were made, for everyone needs a good support!

Giving them both a tight hug, I go, I take a deep breath and go to take my practical exam. I’ve taken several mock exams before, most of them with the sweet Recovery Lady who always helped and encouraged me, and everyone was sure I will pass with flying colours.

The problem was, that as soon as I entered the room, the whole atmosphere changed. Or rather said, the whole room was already filled with an incredibly menacing aura, one which shouldn’t really be around people who are supposed to HEAL others.

My examination lasted about less than 3 minutes altogether, hearing only mocks, jabs and taunts from the examiners, which only made me unable to say anything else in return, my mind blocking completely.

These people were supposed to be Pro-Heroes, people who were just, correct, forgiving and able to give others help and support... So... Why this...?

“Why did you even come here? To show us how you just slacked off and did nothing all years at U.A.? You’re just a lost cause, instead of you, another who truly wished to have a future could have had your place! Get out and only com here when you actually studied anything, otherwise you will never become a Hero, no less one who saves people!”

That’s what I was welcomed out of the room with, and I could only get the hell away from there and reach the closest bench, crying my soul out of desperation.

Where did I go wrong? What did I do? Why such hate?

I just couldn’t wrap my head around what the hell happened?

I didn’t even realise how shaken up I was until I hear someone call my name and I slowly turned my head to look at Aizawa who, despite now showing it, was happy. He definitely passed the exam.

“Congratulations for passing, Aizawa-kun! I knew you could do it, I’m sure you passed with no problems! That’s my Aizawa-kun!” I grinned at him, quickly wiping my tears and jump-hugging him. “What happened to you?” he asked bluntly, keeping me at arm-length, looking straight into my red eyes. “H-Hey, what do you mean? Forget about me! It’s time to celebrate your victory! Ah, I’m sure Yamada-kun passed to! Or should I start calling you Eraserhead and Present Mic, the new and cool Pro-Heroes?” I exclaimed, holding his hands tightly, trying to change the subject. “Tell me what happened. We can celebrate any time, but you’re upset now, not later.” he said firmly, not taking his eyes away from mine. “B-But I don’t wanna ruin your mood, I’d be the worst best friend and girlfriend anyone could have! I want you to be happy and to know that I, too, am happy and very proud of your achievements! So forget about the little things and let’s be happy!” I tried to hype him up, but he only shook his head and guided me back to the bench where he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t be stupid. Sure, I am happy about my achievement, but I can’t be happy knowing my girlfriend cried and I wasn’t there for her. Now, tell me what happened.” he said softly, stroking my hair the same way he would every time I’d need help calming down from a panic attack or sleeping, since I am an insomniac, which made me sigh and defeat and put my forehead on his shoulder, trying my best not to start crying again, and told him everything that happened. “Honestly...I don’t get it...Why such mean words...It was obvious they didn’t want to pass me from the second I got into that room...Like, a younger examiner called the older one, meekly telling him that I was there to be examined, and he snapped at her saying very rudely that I wasn’t tired of waiting or something...And then he just...Got there, looking very intimidating and radiating with superiority...He barely let me saying, most of the words spoken were just jabs at me...And after 3 minutes of that, he just kicked me out of there like I was nothing, saying that...Well...” by this point I was already trying not to let my voice break again, gripping Aizawa’s shirt tightly, which only made him hug me tighter, whispering soothing things into my ear. “Give me a day and I will see how I can solve this. Recovery Girl will be livid when she hears that, there’s no way she will allow her favourite student to be treated so bad.” he reassured me, tilting my face up so I could look at him, to know that he was serious. “Y-You...Think so...?” I whispered, tears forming at my eyes in hope. “That woman would overthrow the Government for you. You’re talented and worked extremely hard, she’s not going to let you be treated like that. You’ll see, don’t worry.” he let out an amused breath, before getting me to get up, wiping my tears with his handkerchief. “Thank you, Aizawa-kun...I’ve no idea what I’d do without your support and help, really...Hehe! Kinda silly...” I said, grinning sheepishly, scratching the back of my neck, when we heard the obnoxious yell of our friend. “Yooooooo! Guess who’s a new Pro-Hero! Oh yeah, this guy!” he laughed, smiling from ear to ear, hugging both me and Aizawa tightly. “Good job, Yamada-kun! I knew you could do it! Ah...! Or should I call you Present Mic from now on~?” I asked, smirking, teasing him and poking his cheeks, like I always used to when he’d get super excited. “Ohhhh yassss! That has such a nice ring to it! And now, we’re the perfect team! Present Mic, Eraserhead and-” he started saying, but was cut off by Aizawa, who looked at me, then with a proud side smile, he said my Hero name.

It had a god damn great ring to it when he said it.

To celebrate, we all went to a pub and had fun the whole night, drinking, playing games, gossiping and just enjoying each others’ existence, happy that, at least for tonight, there were no more worries, and I actually had a chance to become a Healer Hero without having to go through such ridicule again.

Thank you, Aizawa-kun, for always being there for me when I needed you. From now on, please, let me support you as well!

Shinsou Hitoshi

To be explained that I and Shinsou have been best friends since forever and that I always told him he’ll become an amazing Hero, especially with such a brilliant Quirk, is an understandment, because this lavender boi deserves all the love and support in the world.

Now, we’re both in U.A., him in class 1-C and I in class 1-A.

To be fair...It’s rather unfair, I think. It should have been him in the Hero class, not me. He worked much harder against the stigma, and he’s the one wanting to be a real Hero and to save people, not me.

I tried to talk to the higher-ups, but they didn’t allow this student transfer, unfortunately. Of course, he wasn’t jealous or upset about this, and just said he’ll work harder to earn a spot in either Hero classes, so all I could do was support him from now on as well.

He deserves it.

The problem was that by some people, my Quirk was seen as nothing but dull and boring, something so passive that shouldn’t have been in the Hero course, but in some other class where they allowed whimps.

I mean...That wouldn’t have been such a huge problem, if not for the fact that some people found out that my parents were villains and they started hating on me for that, as if I had any choice in that matter.

The only place where I didn’t hear jabs was in my own class, and to be fair, I was rather reserved, not wanting to leave the classroom unless absolutely necessary, or if I had to go home, so I won’t hear any of those things again.

Today again, I was waiting for Shinsou in front of the gate, so we could go home together, just as we always do, when a group of students go past me and start laughing. I try to ignore them and just hang my head, braiding a little tail on my hair and swinging my feet back and forth.

“Why the hell are you even here? You won’t become a hero, that’s for sure. Hell, maybe with some luck you can graduate, but who in their right minds would make a villain’s child a Hero? It’s clear you’ll betray us! And, really? Healing, that’s your power? How pathetic! Why don’t you crawl back under a rock or something?” one of them jabbed at me, but I only looked away. “I mean, you didn’t make it in any of the Hero classes. In fact, you’re from 1-K, Management or something. I don’t see you doing anything heroic, so why don’t you leave me alone?” I mutter, hoping they’d go away, but to my surprise, the one who spoke also got mad and took me by the neck of my shirt shirt, looking very angry. “Listen here, you nobody! If I ever see you around, I’m gonna beat the hell outta ya! Ya hear me?! I’m gonna show ya what people do to villains!” he started threatening, which made me gulp since honestly, I WAS training physically, but the fact that my Quirk was no help in that department wasn’t the best thing to think about. “Yo, dude, the hell are you doing there?” a voice called from somewhere, which made the guy harassing me reply with a curse, which in turn, got him blank-minded, letting go of me, then slapping himself repeatedly. “This should teach you not to bully others, you lowlife. Now leave, all of you.” looking up, I see that my saviour was Hitoshi himself, who looked pretty pissed off. “Hey...Sorry about that. I didn’t expect them to get physical...” I apologised, looking away. “Why are you apologising? It should be them who apologise to you.” he asked, tilting his head like a confused kitten. “You got through all that trouble to save me and even used your Quirk for that...I should have been able to fend them off myself.” I mutter, fumbling with my fingers. “I’m the offense and you’re the healer, I think that went pretty well. Healers are too rare and important in missions so they’ll never be in the front row either way. So...What’s the problem here?” he asked, trying to understand my weird behaviour. “You say that but...Maybe they’re right, in their own way. I mean...Who’d make a villain’s kid a Hero or something? No one’s gonna trust me...Especially for a task like saving people...And? A Healer Quirk in the Hero course? That’s just pathetic...You should have been the one in 1-A, not me. You have much more potential and deserve it, unlike me...” I muttered, looking away, but his response was a sigh and a flick on the forehead, which made me gasp in shock, not having had expected something like that to happen. “If I hear you saying that again, I will personally beat some sense into you. Honestly, what’s with you, anyways? You’re the one always saying I should trust in myself and my own abilities, so now you doubt yourself? And what for, over some brainless guys’ mean words? I’m gonna get in the Hero course and you better be there to wait for me, got it?” he replied firmly, his gorgeous eyes looking straight into my soul. “D-Damn...Shinsou-kun...You can be rather intimidating when you want to be...” I chuckle nervously, knowing I had no escape this and my words won’t be forgotten. “Look...I’m not the best at comforting...You’re much better and in-touch with emotions, so I’ll let you be the boss at that...But even so, stop comparing yourself to others. You are yourself and nobody can compete with that, got it? If you got into 1-A, that was with a reason and nobody can take that away from you. Now...Look at me and show me that smile I fell in love with.” he finished with a smile, his hand on my cheek, raising my face so I’d look at him. “You know I love you, right? You always say what I need to say...Thank you, Shinsou-kun.” I smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “Good. Now then, Aizawa-sensei gave me the weekend off, so I guess it’s date night. I’ll be over at yours by 7 or something. Gotta grab some snacks and video games, after all.” he smirked seeing how my eyes lit up in happiness, forgetting every bad thing that happened today. “R-Really? We didn’t have time for a date night in ages! Ahhh, so cool!! I love you, Shinsou-kun!” I replied in glee, jump-hugging him tightly, kissing his cheek before I hugged his arm so we could walk home. “Heh...Love you, S/O.” he said in a low voice, still smiling and blushing slightly.

Villain or Hero, neither of us cared anymore, it was just the two of us, cuddled in bed, playing video games, surrounded by various snacks and fizzy drinks, making jokes and having fun, like two ordinary teenagers with no worries about the world’s problems.

We are happy.

[faefictions]

The World is Black | pt. 2

Pairing: roommate!Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Warnings: cussing and a little angst (I promise it ends well)

Word Count: 4,406

Part one can be found on my Masterlist!

Y/n woke up on Wednesday, guilt eating her alive. She realized that her reaction may have been a little much. Sure, Harrison hurt her, but he was one of her best friends, and she shouldn’t have ran out on him like she did. She didn’t go home on Sunday because she was still upset, and Allison insisted that she stay until she had a game plan. But each hour that passed just made her more homesick. She wanted to go back and cuddle up under a blanket on their couch while Harrison made her dinner, something he would do on any night they both had off. She wanted to go back and watch a movie with Tom, unable to ignore his constant comments about the actors and the entire filmmaking process. She wanted to go back and get drunk with both of them, because that was when she was happiest. When she was with them, without a care in the world. But her anger had changed their dynamic and she didn’t know how to go back from there.

Harrison woke up just as he had every morning since she left. He sat in bed for hours, pondering why he had to be such an idiot. The one thing he had gained from this situation was the fact the he was in fact in love with her. Every time he came home from work, he prayed that her bedroom door would be closed, that she would be inside. He didn’t need to see her, he didn’t need to talk to her, he just wanted her to come back. That was the first step to her forgiving him. But everyday, he came home to an apartment without her, and it hurt more each time. 

He got up and threw on the closest t-shirt and sweats he could find before heading out the door. He usually put up more of an effort when he went to film, but he hadn’t for the past few days. He knew that he was just going to change into costume once he got there anyway, so he put no effort up beforehand. And now that he was in the last stretch of filming for his current project, his schedule was getting longer each day, so his energy was better saved for acting rather than choosing pants. 

Y/n had to work until 4pm that day, but the day whirled past her as she thought about finally going back to the apartment. It had only been 4 days, but she fantasized about taking a shower back in her own bathroom and sleeping in her own bed. She tried her best not to worry about seeing the boys. 

When 4 pm rolled around, she went home and did what she had fantasized about. She showered practically on the hottest setting, and when she was done, she passed out in bed. It was only 6pm, but she had been having a long week. 

When Tom and Harrison came home that night, they both instantly noticed her closed door. Harrison wanted to smile, but his heart was beating out of his chest. He was happy she was home, of course, but now that it was real, his nerves were unreal. 

“Did you close her door?” Tom asked. Harrison shook his head, eyes never leaving the door. Tom made his way down the hallway and lightly tapped his knuckles on the wood, waiting for a response on the other side. Harrison moved to the kitchen, out of sight of her doorway, but remained in a position where he could hear whatever was about to happen. 

But she didn’t answer. Tom slowly opened the door to the dark room, letting a sliver of light in which illuminated her form on the bed. He turned around, smiling largely, and slowly closed the door so he wouldn’t wake her. He rushed down the hallway to find Harrison, telling him that she was in fact home. He was a bit more than just excited over the fact that she hadn’t actually moved out, that it was just an empty threat she had made in anger. 

“Why is she asleep? It’s only 9?”

“Doesn’t matter, Haz. She’s back. And you know what that means.”

“No.”

“Mate, you said if she came back home you would tell her.”

“I was shit faced.”

Harrison moved to the fridge to grab some ingredients to start making dinner. He hadn’t made himself a real meal in days, the sadness of her leaving had consumed his energy. And although nothing was fixed, her return was enough to give him the kick to make a proper dinner. 

“Drunkenness doesn’t matter, a promise is a promise.”

“Tom, we both know I can’t just go in there and be like ‘Hey I know you just got back, but good news, I called you a whore because I love you’. That isn’t going to fix anything.”

“So what, you’re just going to let her be mad at you? Just going to wait out the storm? Just going to keep hiding your feelings from her?”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

“You’re a coward.”

“I’ll happily take that insult. Now leave me alone, or I won’t make you any food.”

Tom rolled his eyes, but he knew Harrison wasn’t joking about dinner, so he backed off. He went into his bedroom to take a shower, leaving Harrison to think on his own. He knew he couldn’t talk to her tonight, especially if she was sleeping. That was more of his excuse than anything else. So he pushed all thoughts of her to the back of his mind as he continued to cook, keeping himself busy with each ingredient so there wasn’t a single second of down time for his thoughts to come back to him. 

When Tom returned, the food was ready in a skillet, and Tom took two plates, dishing some out on both. Harrison watched as he took them both down the hall to y/n’s room and knocked again. There still was no answer, but he entered, making his way over to her bed. He turned on the bedside lamp and shook her shoulder, causing her to groan and cover her head with the blankets. When Tom laughed at her, she was instantly awake. She had forgotten that she was at home, and hearing his laugh sent her heart racing in embarrassment for her actions regarding Harrison. 

She pulled the duvet from her head and looked up at him, muttering out “Hey.”

“Hey, have you eaten yet?”

She shook her head, prompting him to hand her one of the plates in his hands. He sat down beside her as they started to eat. Her nerves calmed a little by the fact that he wanted to stay in there with her. She was glad he didn’t hate her as much as she hated herself. 

“You aren’t mad at me are you?” he asked, breaking the silence filling the room. 

“Of course not, Tommy. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He took the plates from their laps and put them on her nightstand before he pulled her into the tightest hug he could manage without suffocating her. “I was afraid you weren’t coming back,” he whispered as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

“Can’t get rid of me that easily. Gotta call me something a little worse.”

He chuckled and pulled away, but kept his hands on her shoulders, guiding her eyes to look into his. 

“I’m so sorry he said any of that, but please never leave ever again. We would probably both be dead without you as our voice of reason.”

“I’m not leaving. I just need some time before… before I talk to Harrison.”

It felt wrong saying his full name. The use of nicknames was a big part of their relationship. She only used his full name when she was trying to get a point across, otherwise, he was Haz. And Tom picked up on that. He hugged her again before he took his plate and moved back out to the kitchen, leaving her to finish her food in peace. 

Every time Harrison came home for the rest of the week, her bedroom door was closed. Sometimes the light was on, sometimes he could hear music or tv from the other side, but sometimes she was asleep in the dark. One thing was for sure though, she was always on the other side. He hadn’t seen her since she came back. 

That Saturday morning, he hoped that would change, but it didn’t. Her bedroom door was open this time, initially inciting excitement within him, but she was nowhere to be found. 

“Y/n just texted me. Apparently she went to Allison’s for the day. Says she’ll be back tomorrow,” Tom informed him. 

This continued through the next week as well. Each day, every hour, made Harrison more frustrated. He hated himself, and he hated the situation. But he knew that what he had said had hurt her. So he stayed out of her room, letting Tom bring her dinner each night. Sometimes she would send him out, saying that she had eaten, other times she would take the food Harrison had made, returning the dishes to the sink for him to find the next day. They were the only physical reminders that she was actually there, because otherwise, Harrison could be convinced that she really wasn’t. 

On Thursday of the next week, she had to work at 1 am. She was in a bad mood over it, considering the fact that her last shift had ended at 8pm, but she didn’t complain because she needed the money. Despite the social status of her roommates, she wasn’t very well off. So she got up and threw on her work clothes. She was still sleepy as she walked out to the kitchen to grab something small to eat before she left. She didn’t even notice that the lights were still on, which meant that someone was still up. 

As she entered the living room, Harrison’s head shot up, eyes looking over her body. It had only been a couple weeks since he had last seen her, but she had lost a few pounds and it was hard for him not to notice. She looked weaker. It was probably because she spent all of her time in her room, afraid of running into him and being forced to have the conversation she had been dreading. So when she saw that he was sitting on the couch, her heart stopped. He looked as handsome as ever, although he was only in some old t-shirt and pajama bottoms. 

“Hey,” he said, letting out a breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding since she had appeared. 

“Hey, just going to work,” she responded, forgetting the fact that she was going to eat before she left, and instead putting on her shoes to get out of the situation quicker. 

“But it’s 1 in the morning.”

“Yeah, halfway through graveyard. My boss hates me, what’s new?”

She tried to make it come off lighthearted, but a bit of the tension she was holding in came out with her words. She didn’t say anything else as she grabbed her keys and went out the door.

That Saturday, she was still home when they boys woke up, but her door was locked for the first time. Tom texted her endlessly, but she never replied. So they went to coffee without her.  When they got back, Tom knocked on her door again. Harrison had gone back to his room, but he could hear Tom yelling her name through the door, and an eventual “What?” yelled in exasperation back as she opened the door, which was then slammed. He couldn’t hear anything but muffled arguing after that. 

“You’re being ridiculous, y/n.”

“Is that why you were yelling? Couldn’t have said that through the door?”

“You two need to talk. I am sick of seeing the both of you moping around. I have tried my best to sit back and let you two be adults and figure it out, but you are both acting like children. You’re both literally withering away under this stress. We all know you’re best friends, so please just talk to him. He’s definitely not going to be the one to make the first move.”

“Why do you have to be right all the time?” she asked quietly, after a long silence. 

“I’m just perfect, it’s a curse.” 

They both laughed, relieving the tension in the room. 

That night, as Tom and Harrison sat on the couches in the living room, y/n finally came out of her room. They were playing loud music and drinking a few beers, if she hadn’t have cleared her throat, they may have not noticed her standing there. 

Harrison’s heart melted at the sight of her. She had wrapped herself up in her favorite blanket, something she only did when she was anxious, usually during loud thunderstorms, when he would go into her room and sit with her until the storm passed or she fell asleep. He wanted to go hug her and relieve whatever nerves she had, but he knew that he was the reason her heart was beating too quickly. 

“Wanna join us?” Tom asked, holding out an unopened beer to her. She crawled over the back of the couch and grabbed the beer, keeping the blanket around her while she chugged half the bottle. She stared blankly ahead as Tom continued the story he was telling Harrison before she had joined, but it was obvious that he wasn’t listening anymore. His attention was now on y/n. Tom excused himself to go to the bathroom, hoping that it would give them a chance to talk alone. 

There was an uncomfortable silence as y/n tried to work up the nerve to say something, anything. It had taken a lot out of her to just come out to join them, she hadn’t even considered what the hell she was supposed to say to him once they were alone and face to face. Luckily he beat her to the punch. 

“I’m really sorry, y/n. I understand why you haven’t been talking to me, but I… I need you back in my life.”

She didn’t know how to initially react to his words. She wanted to forgive him with every fiber of her being, but he was making it a little difficult. She had given him the chance to explain why he had done what he had done, but he had told her he didn’t know. She knew that was bullshit, and she needed to know his reasoning if she was going to get over it. After all, this wasn’t just some guy calling her a name, it was Harrison, her best friend, roommate, and currently confusing love. 

“I don’t know what to say, Haz.”

“Just… just tell me what I can do. I’ll literally do anything, just name it.”

She tried to hold back her smirk as she asked, “Anything?”

“Yes, anything.”

“I don’t know, kid, you’re giving me a lot of power here. I can think of like 7 things I want you to do, just to see you suffer.”

He let out a small chuckle as he tried and failed to hide his smile, the skin under his eyes crinkling. His smile was her favorite thing about him, so it was hard for her to not feel anything as she watched his face brighten out of the corner of her eye. She had been trying to lighten the mood in an effort to forgive him, but her heart suddenly felt that pain again seeing him smile. She didn’t know why that had brought it back to her, but her smiled faded suddenly. 

She grabbed her drink and chugged the rest of it, making him come back to the reality that they were in. She was still hurt by him, and he felt so helpless trying to make it better. He knew what Tom had told him to say, but it felt wrong to just blurt out that he loved her. 

“You know I want you back in my life too, right?”

“No, but I hoped.”

“I just, ughh,” she groaned falling back into the couch, finally letting the blanket fall from her shoulders. “Haz, I just don’t know where to go from here. You really hurt me. And I know storming out of here wasn’t the most mature thing, but you fucking… the things you said hurt, especially coming from you. And you just don’t know why you said them? What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Y/n…”

“Harrison, if the next words to come out of your mouth are anything but an explanation, I really just don’t want to hear it. I don’t know if I can listen to anything else with a level head right now.”

He took a deep breath, trying to hype himself up enough to tell her, but the more he tried to tell himself it would turn out ok, the more he psyched himself out. She sat waiting for him to explain, but his silence told her that she wasn’t going to get what she had came out of her room for. 

She got up off of the couch and grabbed her blanket to head back to seclusion. Harrison could have sworn he could hear his own heart break as she stood up to leave, the expression on her face reminiscent of how she had looked the night she had walked out. 

Here they were again, both of their hearts breaking as she walked away from him, frozen in his place. But he couldn’t let her go again. He couldn’t let her disappear back into her room. He didn’t know if he would ever get the chance to tell her what he needed to tell her if she crossed that threshold right now. 

“Y/n wait.”

“What? What Harrison? Want to call me some more names? Want to come up with something worse than whore this time? Who knows, maybe you can actually get rid of me this time. Actually make me move out. You can finally just fucking rid me from your life.” 

He was about to reach out for her as she exploded. He flinched away from her as she yelled, but the urge to hold her grew as he saw the tears streaming down her face. 

“Do you really think I want to get rid of you?” his voice was strained, trying his best to not break down in front of her. The shrug she gave in response made it difficult for him to hold his composure. 

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Harrison. I thought we were friends, but you proved me wrong. I thought we could make up, but every time I so much as look at you, I am just reminded of what you said about me behind my back. And what if Tom hadn’t butt-dialed me? I wouldn’t have even known the shit that you thought was ok to say about me. How do you think that makes me feel? In case you can’t tell, it makes me feel like a dumb piece of shit.”

As he was trying to think of something to say to make things better, something clicked in his brain. How had he not thought of it before?

“Y/n? How much of the conversation did you hear that night?”

“Enough to hear you call me fucking idiotic, and tell Tom that I was whoring myself out.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all I needed to fucking hear, Harrison. I don’t think I could have handled anything else.”

She was growing furious at the fact that he was so calm. She felt like he had given up on them, on their friendship, and she wanted to push out all of the positive feelings she still had about him. But of course she couldn’t. She still wanted to reach out and let him hold her while she cried her way through this, but he was the reason they were there. She hated herself for how much she still wanted him. 

“You should have stayed on the line.”

“Why? What else did you call me? A dumb bitch? Maybe… you know, I can’t even think of anything worse than what you actually said.”

“I didn’t call you anything else.”

She tried to take a deep breath as she met his gaze, but her breath hitched in her throat as she saw his eyes. They still had a power over her and she just wanted to get away from their stare. He saw that her breath was starting to pick up, and out of fear of her walking out on him again, he took a step back to let the tension settle just a bit before he proceeded. 

“Tom told me it wasn’t ok to say what I said.”

“At least one of you respects me.” she whimpered. 

“And then he asked how I could say something like that about you. And I didn’t know what to say. Because how could I say something so terrible about someone so amazing, someone so beautiful, someone I love so much.”

Her heart was suddenly bursting at the seams, but she didn’t want to read too far into him saying he loved her. He could have of course meant it all platonically. She tried to keep her breathing steady as she stood behind the couch, a few feet away from the front door. 

“And that was when we both realized that that was exactly why I said it. I was… I was jealous.”

She could tell it was hard for him to keep going, but she didn’t seem to care too much. He had hurt her after all, so explaining his actions was the least he could do. 

“I was hurt that you would have chosen Kyle over me. The fact that you chose to be with someone that treated you like that instead of me, it… it hurt. Because, I really, really love you, y/n.”

And all the doubt she had instantly expelled itself from her mind. The confusion remained though. She had no idea what to say, she was in shock. 

“Please say something,” he begged, as her eyes remained focused on the floor in front of his feet. He could see the thoughts racing through her head. Suddenly her eyes popped up to meet his, he could see that the tears had ceased. Something about her expression gave him the confidence to move closer to her, he moved one hand to caress her check and slowly moved his lips to hers, softly meeting them together. It took her a second to fully accept what was happening as reality, and he was about to pull away and apologize, taking her rigidity as discomfort. But she suddenly moved her hand to the back of his head, tangling her fingers into his hair and refusing to let him pull away just yet, but he was ok with that. 

She pressed her lips harder against his before she finally pulled away for breath. 

“I think I need to sit down.” 

He guided her to the couch and sat down beside her, hoping that he hadn’t just ruined things between them. She still hadn’t actually answered, but he was taking that kiss as a good sign. 

“I didn’t just…make things…weird? Did I?”

“Oh, no, God, no. I, uh…” Before she could finish, she pulled him back in, crashing her lips into his, this kiss more desperate and passionate than the last one. He took the same pace, continuing the movement of their lips together as she moved her hand to tug at the strands on the nape of his neck. He made himself pull away before he got too excited. 

“Were you maybe going to finish that sentence?” He chuckled, making her laugh as well. 

“I-uhm… I love you too, Haz. You’re still a dick, but I love you.”

He let out a small smile, bring his hand up to caress her cheek. 

“I am so sorry for what I said, Love. I was just hurt. And I say the dumbest shit when I’m upset. I promise, I didn’t mean it. And I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” 

As he finished his sentence, he brought his lips to her neck, making her smile. She thought she might actually be able to fully forgive him for what he had said, although he would have to work for it. As he was leaving kisses in a trail from her ear lobe to her collarbone, they heard Tom come out of his room, making them shoot away from each other.

Upon first glance, the tension in the room was at the same level. He was worried that they hadn’t made any progress, but it was hard to not hear their yelling from outside the doors he was behind. He knew that something had gone down, so he couldn’t help himself but ask. 

“Are we good?” he inquired as he approached the two on the couch. 

“We’re good,” y/n replied, cheeks still hot from what Harrison had been doing seconds prior.  

Tom came and sat next to y/n, looking them both over. 

“Why do you guys have sex hair?”

This made y/n burst out with a giggle, earning an adoring glance from Harrison.

“Fuck off, mate,” Harrison chuckled out, not making eye contact with him. 

“Is this going to be a thing now? Because I think I’m going to need some warning if I’m going to be able to stomach it.”

“Is what going to be a thing? This?” Harrison asked as he pulled y/n into a kiss. As they separated, Tom made a gagging noise. Y/n pulled away from Harrison and turned to tackled Tom over on his side, ruffling his hair and yelling that he was an idiot. He pushed her off of him and pinned her down, calling for Harrison to come tickle her. She screamed as they both tormented her, but she was glad that the night had gone that way. 

She had missed the carefree teasing the three of them put the others through, and she was glad that she was able to be around them again. She was able to be happy with them again, happier than she had been before. She wouldn’t have rather been anywhere else than with her boys. 

Tags:  @smilexcaptainx @artsycth @rose-marys-love @chonisberonica @5sos-wdw @chloe-geoghegan1 @spiderlingsweb @johnsambrosemcclaren @deleteidentity @haz-thetics @timelock97

[disloopy]

depression & obsession pt.2

nafla, loopy

genre: angst, smut themes ??

word count: 2.1k

make out hill, where we met

we let our lips do all the talking and now i’m nothing

“hey, thanks for dropping me home.” you tell nicholas as he walks you to the front steps of the house you share with jinyoung. “sorry i was bitch eyeing you back at the club.”

nicholas chuckles, running a hand over his hair. “ah yeah... i didn’t take it personally.” you nod and smile at him, patting his shoulder. before nicholas turns around he says, “y/n, we should hang out together... you know like the old times.”

“right, we don’t do that a lot anymore,” you agree giving him a smile that seems more awkward than friendly. you’re not sure when it started becoming like this - your relationship with nicholas started to grow distant and quite uncomfortable. 

“alright, see you later.” 

you watch him go down the steps and back into his car. he barely makes it out of the driveway before running back towards him. he rolls the window down questioningly. “what the hell, y/n, you could get hurt.”

you sigh, resting your hand on top of the car’s hood to calm your beating heart. “sorry - um - do you have any idea when jinyoung will be back?” you ask hopefully, realizing the night is dark and it’s getting late.

nicholas purses his lips, shrugging. “i’m not sure. why?”

you gulp, feeling embarrassed. “i don’t like staying alone. can i come with you?” nicholas seems caught off guard and he turns to look in front of him, unsure of how to answer.

“um - i don’t think that’s-”

“please,” you say, desperation in your voice. “you know i’m scared to be alone.” he knows it too well considering how long you two have been friends for. 

nicholas finally exhales, leaning over to open the door for you. “fine.” breathing out a sigh of relief, you climb in and settle into the seat, preparing yourself for a silent car ride. probably. 

you two don’t hang out much as just friends anymore. it’s always either jinyoung or the boys. and you’re not stupid, you have a sneaking suspicion why nicholas might be acting this way. note to self, you think, daniel is not good at keeping secrets.

after reaching his house, nicholas tells you to sleep on the couch. “i’m not giving up my bed for any old person,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him. but then everything goes silent again. 

jinyoung will text me when he gets home, you think, crashing down on the couch and checking to see if he’s called you all night which, to your disappointment, he hasn’t.

as it gets later, nicholas comes down and asks if you want to sleep in his bed. “i’ll sleep on the couch until jinyoung comes - that’s fine.”

“what happened to not giving up your room?” you ask teasingly and he grins shyly. “you’re a big baby... but no thanks, i’m sure he’ll call soon so i’ll stay down here.”

nicholas nods. “hmm alright. you should tell him you’re here or something.”

“um...yeah, i’ll do that.” but when nicholas leaves you decide not to. you don’t want to give him the wrong idea. you open your phone, considering texting him your whereabouts when it suddenly dings with a message from him.

loopy boy: i won’t be home tonight

loopy boy: sorry :(

you feel suddenly angry but push all that emotion down, telling yourself its alright as you throw your phone on the couch without bothering to reply to him. if you had a dollar for every time he said he won’t be home you’d be rich enough to buy plane tickets back to america.

but you don’t want to leave him. as much as it hurts you to stay with someone who barely gives you any attention, you’d rather not be alone. that’s probably one of your worst fears. 

maybe you’re not spending your ideal amount of time with jinyoung but you can forgive his faults of course. he’s leading and managing a whole music group and what’s a relationship without sacrifices?

but why are you always getting the short end of the stick?

nicholas finds himself tossing and turning in bed that night, unable to fall asleep. how can he when you’re downstairs, alone on the couch when you should be at home next to your boyfriend.

he wonders why jinyoung even asked you out when he knew he’d never have enough time to be with you. his selfish desires are really only hurting the relationship.

fuck what am i thinking, nicholas shakes his head, cursing himself. this isn’t his relationship to talk about. he thinks about you. shit, i should’ve given her a blanket or something. but it would be too weird to go down now and ask you if you need one. 

every time he tries to shut the thought of you out, it keeps returning to haunt him and it’s surprising that he even got any sleep that night.

nicholas wakes up the next morning with a text from his hyung. “be at the studio at 12pm.” another busy schedule, he thinks before deciding to get dressed and go downstairs, expecting a note from you saying you’d left that night.

but all he finds is you sprawled across his couch, your shirt riding up your bare thighs and jinyoung’s jacket - which you used as a blanket - slipping off your body (a/n sksks fuck this is so corny pls stop me).

he considers pretending he never saw you but realizes that would probably be worse so he gently shakes you awake. you groggily sit up, rubbing your eyes and covering yourself with jinyoung’s jacket. 

nicholas can’t help but think of how cute you look with your puffy cheeks and baggy eyes. you look around, slightly confused for a second then say, “i’m still here?”

“you’re still here,” nicholas chuckles, resting his palms on his knees. “did jinyoung forget to pick you up?”

you sigh, a disappointed look shadowing your face. “well... i had a dream he took me home but... he texted me last night saying he wouldn’t be home.” nicholas bites the inside of his cheek, anger building up at his friend. couldn’t he just tell her that in the first place?

“i don’t really have anything here so i guess you’ll have to settle for cereal,” he tells you, walking back to the kitchen. 

when nicholas leaves, you feel tears springing to your eyes. is that all you are to jinyoung? five letters and a sad face emoticon? does he really have no idea that his constant absences are taking a toll on the relationship - or specifically, you.

you wipe away stray tears and put your pants back on, deciding to join nicholas in the kitchen. “i fixed you a bowl,” nicholas says with his mouth full. “sorry if you don’t like corn flakes.”

“i don’t care,” you tell him bluntly and plop down on the chair, stuffing a spoonful into your mouth.

“uhhh are you ok?”

“do i look fucking ok?” you snap, tears welling up in your eyes again. you blink them back, calming yourself down. “i’m sorry that’s so rude of me. especially since you gave me a place to stay for the night.”

nicholas nods slowly. “it’s basic human decency. hyung wouldn’t know much about it,” he jokes, trying to make you laugh. you do, slightly, and continue on with your breakfast.

after the both of you are done eating, you go to the bathroom to wash up and in your moment of absence, nicholas stares at your vacant spot on the couch and then considers texting jinyoung and telling him you were at his house all night.

no, that doesn’t sound right. how do you tell your best friend his girlfriend spent the night with you? he sighs, leaning back with thoughts running through his head.

when you’re not back for more than 30 minutes, nicholas knocks on the door of the bathroom, prompting you to come out. “are you alright?” he’s quick to notice the tear stains on your cheeks.

“i’m fine. just lady issues.”

“really? boys get constipated too you know,” he teases, earning light laughter from you.

“it’s weird that we never chill like this any more, nic,” you say, plopping down on the couch. he loves that nickname but he loves it more when you’re saying it.

nicholas shrugs. “i mean, isn’t it weird to chill alone with your friend’s girl?” you nod in agreement, a smirk creeping on your face. he knows that expression only means you’re thinking of something.

“isn’t weirder to have feelings for your friend’s girl?”

“uh - wha- i mean -” nicholas is at a loss for words. how could he be so stupid? of course you’d know. never fucking trust daniel with anything, he reminds himself.

“why wouldn’t you tell me?” you demand, locking eyes with him.

“why the fuck do you think, y/n? you’re dating my best friend.”

you let out a deep breath. “we’re friends too, ok? you should have told me, we’d sort it out.”

nicholas hangs his head, feeling truly mortified at the situation. "okayyy, i don't want to fucking talk about this."

"well, i do and if i want to talk about it then we're going to fucking talk about it." you tell him. he chews on his lower. you're too damn stubborn.

nicholas doesn't say anything and then you speak again. "and you have a boner right now. tell me what that's about."

heat rises to nicholas's cheeks as he moves his hands away from his eyes just to see. leave it to my body to betray me at times like these. "oh my god," he groans, grabbing a pillow to cover himself with. "fuck... i'm so sorry..."

your tone softens, seeing him in such distress. "don't be embarrassed. it's ok." you stand up and walk over to him, placing your knees on either side of him and settling yourself in his lap.

"wha-"

"shh," you whisper, placing a finger over his lips to shush him. nicholas can't find it in himself to tell you he doesn't want this because he does want it. "let me help you." you press your lips to his and everything else is a blur.

                                                                                                               ***

"fuck!"

"you seriously have enough energy for a third round?" you giggle where you lie across his chest. nicholas quickly scrambles to his feet, grabbing his phone to check the time. it's 2pm. you stare at him with wide worried eyes. "are you ok?"

"i - um - i have somewhere to be this morning," he explains, wanting to slap himself for being so careless.

"oh..." you say, disappointed evident in your voice. nicholas doesn't want to leave you all alone again but he has no choice at this point.

"um... i need my shirt back," he tells you and you nod, slipping it off and handing it back to him. "you can get an uber home, right?"

"yeah of course... don't worry about me."

nicholas runs out of the house and into his car, realizing his ringer was off and he's had many missed calls from the boys. as he drives to the studio he tries to come up with excuses as to why he's so late but when he gets there, it happens so fast he forgets everything.

"dude, where the hell were you?!" owen demands, pulling nicholas into the studio. nicholas scratches the back of his head, searching for an answer.

"i uh lost track of time."

"lost track of time?" jinyoung repeats, an annoyed expression on his tired face. "you were supposed to be here two hours ago!" the sight of jinyoung just causes guilt to build up in the pit of nicholas's stomach. he knew deep down inside that you were just using him because you needed someone and he knew it was wrong. but then why did it feel so right?

"just get the hell inside the recording room," says jinyoung, pushing nicholas in. "we've already done our parts for the tour remixes."

nicholas can't think straight in there. all he can think about is hating himself for what he did to you and jinyoung even though it was your fault as well he didn't know how he was going to live with himself after this.

so he knew just the thing to do. when the recording was done, he stepped out of the room to see the other boys satisfied faces.

"ok at least now we can rest before our flight in a couple days," says jinyoung, slightly relieved with a hint of irritation.

"hyung, can i talk to you?" nicholas asks quietly. jinyoung crosses his arms over his chest.

"yeah, what is it?"

"um... in private?"

he exhales. "nicholas, we don't have time for that. just tell me what it is."

"it's about y/n."

[xuhoon]

how you met: Jeonghan

hey guys thank you for your patience! i did a last minute switch, meaning i finished this one before my other one (who is next dont worry). my lovely friend @seventeen-teen-teen-trash and i went back and forth with some of the dialogue and i just had to write it! 

fluff, aged up, i love yoon jeonghan, 1843 words

Yoon Jeonghan is a prestigious doctor specializing in insomnia.

You started having trouble with sleep in college, hoping it was just stress or a messed-up sleep schedule. Unfortunately, the trend continued after you graduated. Your regular doctor recommended Dr. Yoon after he was unable to pinpoint any other issues.

“Y/n?” the nurse asked into the waiting room, “Dr. Yoon is ready to see you now.”

You were a little nervous, a new doctor’s office was always riddled with anxieties of sickness. But, you were also relieved to know you were about to receive the best help.

The nurse brought you to an empty room while you waited. She asked you typical doctor questions like height and weight, and then left you alone to wait.

“Alright, Y/n Y/l/n, I’m Dr. Yoon. So! Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself? What’s been the problem?”

“Well, this all started back in college and I thought it was just stress.”

“But?”

“It’s still here, my sleeping problems.”

“That’s what I am here to help with!” He smiled brightly as he asked you deeper questions about your lack of sleep and settled on diagnosing insomnia. He went on to explain more things that had been happening to you without you sharing. You felt like he read your mind. The whole first consultation was relieving.

“Now that we’re up to speed on everything, I want you to try some homeopathic remedies before I put drugs into your system. I’m going to prescribe, and yes this is a real prescription, some chamomile tea and these sleep aid pills you can find at any homeopathic store. I just want to try these first so we can ease you off of them and you can sleep normally. Hopefully, they work. If not, no worries, we will give you a stronger medicine.”

“Wow, thank you, Dr. Yoon,” You were so thankful that you were on the road to recovery.

“Hey, no problem! I’m glad I could be of service. I’ll write you a prescription for one week, and then you can come back and tell me how things went, okay?”

Surprisingly, everything Dr. Yoon recommended helped a ton, and you were finally sleeping again! It was a miracle that he helped.

Unfortunately, there was one thing standing in the way of a perfect remedy.

The night before your next appointment, you got no sleep. There was something—no, someone, on your mind. He was tall, had glistening honey skin, a slimmer face, and styled chestnut hair. He was absolutely breathtaking. How could your new doctor be so gorgeous? No one was allowed to look that good.

Instead of dolling up to see him next, because doctor-patient relationships are forbidden, you had no energy or motivation. You didn’t care how much of a mess you looked, but you did have to go for your follow up appointment.

The same beginning to your appointment followed like it was being directed on cue cards, all until Dr. Yoon walked in.

“Y/n, welcome baaAAH? What the heck happened to you?!”

“It’s nice to see you too, doc.”

“I thought they were working wonders!!”

“Keyword: were.”

“What decided to change?” Dr. Yoon felt awful, he hated to see things go awry. His voice was laced with a sympathetic sweetness that attached itself to your heartstrings.

“I had a thought last night, and it kept me awake.”

“Oh, okay, well, it’s at least on the good side of things. This is an external variable that we can easily fix. What was the thought of?

“Well, um. It was this guy.”

“Oh, are you seeing anyone? That could be counteracting the calming effects of chamomile. Our hearts racing like we’re teenagers again, very common in the world of no sleep.”

“Um, no, no, I’m single, not seeing anyone. Living alone.”

“Y/n, were they a celebrity? Someone you know?”

“I know them, not well, but I know them. He, um,” you trailed off, trying to avoid admitting it was the horribly gorgeous man in front of you. “He’s horribly gorgeous and just popped into my head last night but now I can’t stop thinking of him.”

“He sounds like quite the catch, huh? But I thought you weren’t seeing anyone?”

“I’m not! It wasn’t my choice to become infatuated with your stupid beautiful face but here we are,” Oh no.

“W-what?”

“I uhhhhhhhh…”

“Isn’t that ironic?”

“Extremely.”

“Your sleep doctor is ruining his own prescription, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, and I need to not have that happen.”

“There isn’t anything to tell you to make it easier, only that I can’t date a patient.”

“No okay see that isn’t helping because you’re giving me false hope and I need to sleep better but you’ll just stay in my head.”

“Let’s get you better so you don’t have to be a patient anymore.”

“Stop flirting with me!”

“Hey! I’m just incredibly charming, that doesn’t mean I’m flirting. I do want to help you recover.”

“You weren’t flirting back?”

“Oho no I totally was, you’re incredibly beautiful. However, I cannot go any further while you are my patient, is that clear?”

“Yes sir…” those words came out shakily as you felt his authoritative professionalism.

You could feel your cheeks heating up as Dr. Yoon finished writing something down.

“Alrighty, well, since the previous treatment worked,” He eyed you before continuing, “Let’s continue with that. If you have any concerns, please call our office.”

With a final warm smile, he left the room. The familiar nurse returned to usher you back to the waiting room as you see the long doctor’s coat slightly lifted by his tread. Your heart was performing an all-out gymnastics routine, but it was important to stay professional.

On your drive home, all you really wanted was for the method to work. It’s not good to fall in love with your doctor, it’s not good to even think about having a crush on him and his perfect bone structure. Screw him for being attractive!

As the week continued, the method started slowly working again, and you were able to distract yourself with everyday life.

The good news, you thought, was that you didn’t need a prescription to get the sleeping aids. Dr. Yoon was trying to be cute and it worked.

It had been a month and a half, and you had gotten a rhythm down to normalize your sleep schedule. However, he lingered in the back of your head. Out of everything, you wanted to get to know him better. You hadn’t spoken since your last appointment. There was no need to.

Of course, that was the last time. But you were not prepared for when Dr. Yoon approached you at your favorite coffee shop one morning before work.

“Y/n, fancy seeing you here!” His smile was as sparkly as you remember it.

“Oh, Dr. Yoon, hi.”

“Please, we’re not in the office, call me Jeonghan.”

“Jeonghan,” you repeated in a sweet tone.

“Care to stay a while?”

“We both have work to go to.”

“Okay, maybe not today, but what about another time?”

“Didn’t you say something about staying professional?”

“Yes, but you haven’t come to see me in quite some time. I’m guessing you’re feeling better?”

“Fine, I’ll update you another time… over coffee?” You circled your thumbs over each other, nervous to hear his response.

“Yes! Yes,” He cleared his throat, “Um yes, cool, cool, it’s not like I was hoping for that.”

“I’m off work Saturday if you are.”

“I do have to go into the office until noon, so we could maybe meet up after then?”

“Should I fill out some paperwork for this?”

“Nah, I think you should maybe change doctors though. I mean, I can always help but like… not, um, legally?”

“Are we the next Bonnie and Clyde?!”

“I don’t know about you but I need to keep my job and my license so please no, let’s keep things legal.”

“Alright. So, this Saturday? Here? What time?”

“As soon as I get off of work, I’ll come to see you. I… I’m really happy I get to know you now.” His usual cool, yet bold, demeanor was replaced with something similar to an excited puppy.

You had just enough time to get to work, but you didn’t get much done today.

Saturday rolled around soon enough, but you were nervous like always. He’s shown interest in you, and it scared you.

You exchanged numbers in case something came up, but you took silence as a good thing. You decided to text him just to let you know you had arrived, but he walked in before you hit send.

“Ah Y/n, there you are! I left a little early because I was so excited to see you.”

“Excited?”

“Yeah, um, let’s sit down.”

“It’s like you’re about to tell me you’re pregnant. Are you okay?”

“It’s funny, I had the same problem as you.”

“Okay good, you aren’t pregnant.”

He laughed, a very ethereal laugh really. “No, I am not, are you?”

“You think I got knocked up in a month?”

“Y/n, I’m kidding, I know you aren’t like that.”

“So, Jeonghan,” you stressed his name a little, “what seems to be the problem?” You did your best doctor voice and he erupted in giggles, holding himself by the table.

“You’re really cute and funny, did you know that?” He composed himself, “It’s you, you’re the problem. Your horribly gorgeous face keeps me up at night, and I’m a sleep doctor!”

In all honesty, this was the last thing you thought he would ever say to you. Repeating your word vomit when you were working on no sleep the night before? That’s the look he remembered? The shock on your face spoke the words that couldn’t come out.

“I know what you’re thinking, ‘why would he remember that time I was an absolute walking zombie and flat-out said he was gorgeous?’ yeah I know it’s hard to believe that’s when my heart did flips but it did.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “Listen, y/n, maybe we both will sleep better knowing we have a date coming up?”

“Aren’t you bold Dr. Yoon? I never thought you’d ask because of professionalism.”

“You aren’t my patient anymore and I’m 100% sure you won’t file a lawsuit against me because of my horribly gorgeous face and charming personality.”

“Are you like this with other girls?”

“Subtle flirting as banter? Sometimes. Actual interest and pursuance? No. I’m serious about you, Y/n.”

“Okay, why don’t you prove it?”

“Dinner, tonight, anywhere you want to go. My treat.”

“Sounds like a deal, Dr. Yoon.”

“Please call me Jeonghan, your date for tonight.”

“Okay ‘Jeonghan your date for tonight,’”

“Gosh, you’re so cute. I don’t think my heart will calm down until I see you next.”

“Wow, you are in deep! But, I mean, same… pick me up at 6?”

“I’ll be there.” Jeonghan sweetly grabbed your hand to plant a kiss on the back of it, making you blush even more thank you already were.

[miss-autophobic]

Sorely, no one understands depression unless they’ve had it... I mean, truly had it. Even then, everyone is different. Loved ones who haven’t suffered try to relate to the sadness you’re feeling with anecdotes about how they were sad for a day due to mundane happenings, such as bad weather or losing their favorite shirt. They may even try to offer advice, but it is generic at most. “Exercise,”...“Hang out with your friends,”... “Get some fresh air; maybe try the beach”... While they come with good intentions, they don’t realize that this isn’t like a small wound you can patch up. No amount of laughs, nights out, or self-pampering is going to fix the empty feeling you have i your chest. 

Unfortunately, for me, depression is like having friends, but having no one to hang out with. My body wants so desperately to play a role in society: to laugh, feel the air against my skin, and to gaze at the construct of humanity. My mind deceives me, though. I know my body craves socialization, but my mind wills me to stay home, under every circumstance possible. My friends invite me to birthday parties and various other social events, and I tell them that I can’t because of my work schedule. Meanwhile, I know that I am perfectly free that day. Maybe I did say yes, but the harrowing feeling of dread lingers in my chest, again, and I wait until the last second to back out of the offer. I procrastinate because my body, still, is screaming at my mind to function within society and to rejoin humanity once more; but my mind won’t comply... leaving a small, frail, section of my mortal being craving the socialization. 

I do leave my house, sometimes, whether I feel it okay to be social or not. I only last a few minutes before the empty feeling in my chest becomes more intense. I don’t fear interacting with people, or even people in general, but I still am unable to push down all of the feelings of sadness, dread, and tangible emptiness. Familiar people become strangers as I am trying to formulate sentences of appreciation or humor. “Smile,” customers at work aggressively suggest in passing. I want to smile. I want to think in the way that I’ve seen others do so often. I want to be normal. 

“Cut yourself,” is the most recurring thought that I have. Its almost burnt, carefully and cleanly, into the will of my hands. Normal people don’t feel this way. They want interaction in some form of the term. Being social creatures, humans want to feel a form of connection to other individuals. I want this too, but I don’t allow myself to have it. I don’t allow myself to love, or to accept humanity onto myself. Again, my body craves the relationship, and I am again forced to contemplate the extreme loneliness and despair I am left to feel. “You choose what you want to feel,” some may say, “You need to snap out of it. You choose to think this way.” But I don’t choose. My mind, almost as if I am its property, chooses for me. I feel as though I am a bird in a cage, only, my body is the cage, and my mind is the owner. 

Intentionally, or not, the empty feeling in my chest dissipates. My body forms emotional attachments to friends and loved ones, again. For a while, I believe everything is going okay, that I am normal. I socialize more: I begin to let people in and have them explore friendship with me. They begin to fall into my personality quickly. Soon, they start taking my up front disposition to everything as being too abrasive. They’ll think that I am selfish now, even when I am pouring the remainder of my already ebbing energy to cater to them. They don’t feel as though I even cared about them, when in my mind, I was doing everything I could to prove that I was. They begin to leave, one by one. New and old friends become acquaintances, and some disappear altogether. Emptiness rejoins its home in my chest, and proceeds to make me feel numb again. 

Death has a home in my thought process, too. I have observed that I think about death because I don’t understand how I can be so different from everyone around me. As of late, sexuality has become my new difference from the world that can I see, hear, and feel around me. I don’t know if it is okay to not feel sexual for most of the month. Is this my depression controlled mind, or is it me? Why can’t I tell the difference? When I do feel a sexual urge, usually only for a few days, I don’t know what sexual identification and/or sex I am attracted to. Sometimes I find myself looking for a woman, and other times, a man. Sometimes I want both at the same time, or two of each, even. The few moments of bliss before orgasm leaves me speechless when the empty feeling in my chest reminds me that sex is disgusting to me. Again, I can’t tell if it is my depression always lingering in the back of my mind. 

Always there... always waiting. How is anyone going to love me when I don’t understand love? I feel as though my body understands love, but my mind can’t fathom the complexities of simply letting someone see my being. Caged, again. The world behind me is turning, living, and changing for the good or bad, and I am trapped inside of myself, wanting to join. Games become chores, and chores become as dreadful as horror movie characters having to choose between saving themselves or their child. Liquor becomes my new friend. It pulls me closer to the emptiness, but helps me accept it. Here, in this altered state of reality, my body is able to get closer to human experience, as my mind takes a vacation to its best friend: the emptiness in my chest. Even now, I know that I am sad, but even the evil that lives inside of my body needs a break. 

“Life just might not be for everyone,” is a quote that I my mind lives by. Doing anything, no matter how small, is irrevocably impossible. With sincerity, I don’t think that I belong here. I am living in a foreign country, where no matter what I do to assimilate, I will always be an outsider. Sometimes I heavily contemplate receiving help for these feelings, but my mind convinces me that this is what I deserve, that I would be no one without the emptiness inside of me. I can’t distinguish what is normal and what isn’t. This can’t all be because of depression, can it? One disorder can’t possibly be responsible for the thoughts and feelings that keep me awake at night, and on occasion, crying to myself to sleep. I am becoming paranoid because I have no self identity. But then... this pattern of thought isn’t normal either. After the vicious cycle, I am a bird in a cage, performing tricks for my owner, again. At my most vulnerable state, I’ll remain straight faced and remember everything I’ve seen; but as always, I’ll “Smile” because that is what my socially deprived body wants. 

[panda-noosh]

Ok bc there's a scene towards the last episode where Keith was gonna sacrifice himself. And I was wondering if you could write a scenario taking place after that and Keith's s/o goes up to him and was like "wtf were you thinking asshole!?" and it's kinda angsty but w a happy ending :D

  Holy mother ofgod I am so sorry this took so long. I can't catch up on Voltron forthe life of me. I am still not caught up, and have still yet to seethis scene in context, but I Googled it and I think I have an idea ofwhat's going on??? Let's hope.

   Enjoy!

  Yousat there, beside Matt, completely frozen, unable to process what youhad just seen.

   Mattwas silent, though you were unsure how he was reacting. He could justnot be speaking. He could be completely fine with what just happened,but he had enough respect in him to give you the moment to processeverything.

   Nothingseems to be working. That's what it feels like. Your shoulders hurtall of a sudden, like the weight of anxiety that had been hoveringover you had finally had the cord broke, letting it finally collapseon top of you. Your mouth is dry, your heart is beating at onemillion miles per hour and there are tears falling from your cheeksthat you can't even make up an excuse for at this moment.

   You'renot sobbing. There's just tears streaming down your cheeks as youstare into the monitor which had just played for you the mostheartbreaking and anxiety inducing thing you had ever seen.

   “Areyou okay?” Matt asks after a moment of silence. “W-was that Lotorthat just-”

   “Ineed to see him.”

   Thewords come out mangled, barely forming a coherent sentence as youstand up and pull your coat on over your suit.

   “Wehave to wait until we're all together again,” Matt says, grabbingyour arm before you can turn away.

   “Ihave to – Let me talk to him. You have him on your headset!”

  “He's just hurtled himself into fire, Y/N!” Matt exclaims,referring to Keith who was so ready to sacrifice himself only momentsbefore. Even the memory of it was hurting, and you press your fingersto your temple as if that will cure it all.

   Yougrit your teeth as you slump back down next to Matt. You were in themiddle of a battle – a serious one. You couldn't let yourself getdistracted – not yet.

   Witha deep inhale, you lean forward, grab the controls and nod. “Let'ssend these bastards back to where they came from.”

    Youfell asleep not long after arriving back on the ship.

   Tryingto stay awake was out of the question. After nearly two days ofnon-stop working, sleep hadn't been placing itself in your schedulefor some time now. But after today, you could barely keep your eyesopen.

    It'saround 4am whenever you hear shuffling in the room around you. Agrunt. Somebody throwing a boot in the corner before the bed isdipping at the side of you and somebody is running their fingers overyour sleeping features, pushing loose hair out of your face with adelicacy that makes the culprit so obvious.

   Youpeel your eyes open, them meeting Keith's without even needing tolook around first. His violet eyes are beaming down at you, a tiredsmile playing at his own lips as he lets his finger trail down theside of your face, before it hooks into the collar of your suit whichyou hadn't changed out of.

   “You'regonna get that wrinkly if you keep sleeping in it,” Keith says.

   Youshove his hand away and scramble up, remembering what had happenedonly hours before. Remembering what he did. It was out of thegoodness of his heart, but it broke your own and you couldn't justnot talk about it.

   “Ithink you're really stupid, you know that right?” you say.

  Keithnarrows his eyes but he doesn't seem entirely surprised by youroutburst. “Hm?”

   “KeithKogane, you son of a bitch!” you exclaim, slamming your handsagainst his shoulders as the anger and the anxiety and the stress youhad been feeling finally snap, pouring out onto him.

   Hewas the reason behind all of it. You could handle a few Galraattacking your doorstep every other day, but the main worries you hadall surrounded Keith; when would it get too much for him? When wouldyou finally have to step in and say something?

   “Y/N,hey!” Keith says, grabbing your wrist. “What are you-”

  “You nearly died today!” You aren't sure if you're sobbing ornot, but your words are wobbled. “I – I nearly had to watch youthrow yourself into an explosion, and you're just gonna walk in hereand pretend it didn't happen?”

   Keith'sface blanks for a moment, his eyes tracing every inch of your face.His grip tightens on your wrist just enough that the hesitation andshock is noticeable.

   “Youwere with Matt,” he mumbles. “Y-You saw that?”

   Youtaste the tears as they trail from your eyes into the corners of yourmouth. “I couldn't go with Pidge, so Matt offered to take me.”

   “Itold you to stay in the ship.”

   Yougrit your teeth, hardly believing your ears. “You selfish bastard.You aren't even sorry thatyou were going to leave us all behind with no word of goodbye, nowarning. You didn't even give us a chance to help you!”

   “Ishouldn't have to apologise for wanting to save you all!” Keithyells back, letting your wrist go before he stands up and runs hishands through his sweat riddled hair. “I wasn't being selfish. Iwas doing what was best – I was risking my own life for themasses.”

   “It's like you think the Galra are the last thingVoltron is going to have fight on a big scale,” you scoff, foldingyour arms over your chest. “Without you, Voltron isn't Voltron. Ifyou'd have died-”

   “Alluraor you would have become the Paladin,” Keith interrupts, spinningaround with a look in his eye that held so much power to it that younearly shrunk back into the mattress. “You did it without mebefore.”

    Thewords falling from his lips are like acid being poured into yourears. The way he talks about his own death as if it will beapproaching him soon enough, like he doesn't havepeople who love and care for him, who would be destroyed if anythinghappened to him.

   Youstay silent for a minute, letting his words filter in your brain,picking apart the anger and digging deeper, looking for any sign ofhesitation behind them. You can't let yourself think that he would beso willing to die – it's too painful.

   “Lotorsaved me,” Keith says whenever he realises you don't plan onspeaking up. “That's all that matters. I'm still here. With you.It's you and me and nothing is going to change that.”

   Youclose your eyes, taking your lip between your teeth as the tearsswell up again and run down your cheeks.

   “Stopcrying,” Keith whispers, an almost urgent tint to his voice as hesits back down next to you and places a hand on your knee. “Please,stop crying. You know I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't to benefitthe team.”

   “Youhaven't been reassuring me of that lately,” you mumble.

   “What?”

   “Thatyou would only risk your life for the benefit of the team.” Youopen your eyes and look up, your breath escaping you when you seehim. The love of your life. The man you had fallen hopelessly in lovewith. The man who had fixed up your wounds whilst ripping open hisown in the process.

   Hetilts his head to the side at your words, unsure of what you mean.

   “You'vebecome careless,” you elaborate. “You throw yourself into anydanger you can, and you always come out of it saying it was justfor the team. You say it's justwhat a Paladin would do, but none of the others do it. All of theothers think about the people they'd be hurting if they were to die.You don't. At least, it doesn't seem like you do.”

   “Ofcourse I think about that. You're never off my mind when I'm onmissions, Y/N. You're the reason I keep coming back.”

   “Ican't be that much of a motivation if you were willing to throwyourself into an explosion a few hours ago.”

   “Don't thinklike that.” He's lowered his voice again, a growled whisper as heducks his head down to look at the small amount of space between youboth. “I love you. I love you so much.”

   Youbite your lip, unable to hear any of this any more. You reach out andplace your palm against his cheek, a soft touch which has him sighingand leaning into your fingers like you are the last thing keeping himgrounded in this moment.

   “Ilove you, too,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his.“That's why I worry so much. I – I don't know what I'd do if youdidn't come back from a mission. You need to remember that. WheneverI'm doing a dangerous mission, I think of you and it gives me thestrength to fight harder so I can see you again. That's what I wantto be for you – a motivation.”

   “You are. God,you are.”

   Youwipe your tears away roughly. “Thank you. For everything you do forthe team, dangerous or not. Just – Just know that it doesn't allhave to be your job, though.”

   Henods. “That's difficult for me to remember.”

   “We'll getit memorised,” you chuckle, breathlessly. “Now, get some sleep.We're both exhausted.”

[sushisama]

Longing for Clarity Chapter Nine

Pairing. Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (main, pre-established), eventual one-sided DekuBowl, other pairings hinted at Part. Nine/Twenty-One Rating. Story has overall NSFW tones and mentions, but the sex scenes will be left as side stories. Synopsis.  Slice of life AU.  Check chapter one notes for details.  Katsuki is in his senior year, and though he’s dealing his own questionable mental condition, he can’t help the excitement of the upcoming graduation.  But his boyfriend, Izuku, has been acting strange, being almost a little too intimate.  They come to find out that Izuku is going through the fermin, a predicament certain Quirk holders go through.  Now Katsuki is being forced into considering relinquishing the secrecy of their relationship, if only to keep all he wandering eyes from Izuku. Notes.  While Izuku fits All Might, Katsuki is having an off day. Second Note.  More of my headcanons in this chapter.  And the incident Katsuki and Ashido talk about near the end is part of the alternate part of this alternate universe.  It'll get discussed later, and I am planning on doing a side story with it, since it's Katsuki and Izuku's get together story.  Stay tuned for it!  ^-^

Also!  For those of you interested, there is early access to chapters and access to NSFW side stories available to patrons on my Patreon.  Chapter ten will be up shortly.  You can also tip me on Ko-fi.  Please consider supporting me!  Thank you!  <3  

Enjoy!

Chapter Index

Katsuki hadn't slept in days.  It wasn't the first time he'd gone a long while without getting rest, but it felt the most irritating duration in a long while. At first he had blamed it on the shift change, going from early morning work to overnights.  It had only been a couple of days since they had started, but he had hoped that staying up the first day would be enough to reset his clock.

It hadn't been.  He was still awake.

He hadn't even been able to nap or really rest.  He had been with Izuku the past few days, and when they were down and ready to fall asleep, he was nowhere as quick to slumber as his boyfriend.  Izuku would be buried into his side, happily dozing off in the haze of their intimacy, while Katsuki would be staring up at the ceiling, his mind unable to turn off.  At first it wasn't so bad; he'd go over lists or previous days of hero work, thinking of better ways to do his job.  

But then those thoughts would devolve, circling around to the worst of things.  He would recall what happened with Tokoyami and Izuku just a few days prior, and the scenario that came was if Izuku hadn't left.  He knew it was a horrible thing to think of, not just because he didn't want to visualise it, but because it was an insult to Izuku to even consider it happening.

He would do what he could to push it aside, to think of anything else.  That would only send him to think of everyone he'd seen flirting with Izuku or who he had mentioned had shown vague interest.  Izuku hadn't told him those things to make him mad, he'd told him because he was sharing his day with him.  Because that's what friends did, and they were friends before anything else.

Katsuki didn't even try sleeping like this.  He knew his thoughts would keep him up, no matter how much he tried to shove them aside and attempt to bring something else up.  Even knowing he shouldn't be entertaining the ideas, that none of them would actually happen, he couldn't help the programs playing out in his head.

He just needed a distraction until his mind settled down again.  It had happened before, over many things from awkward situations at school that he wished had gone different to conversations he wanted to have with his mother.  It would happen again.  His mind would take something and run with it, and he just had to wait until it was exhausted.

So once he was sure Izuku was beyond waking, he would head to the gymnasium for some training.  He couldn't keep his mind quiet, maybe, but he could interrupt its speech.  And thankfully everyone else had seemed easy to rest, because he was left alone to mull around in his own thoughts.

Except this one time.

Katsuki hadn't been surprised that someone was there.  There was bound to be at least one person sometime during the week that had the same troubles sleeping.  He just hadn't expected Todoroki Shouto to be one of those people.

He attempted to avoid him at first, as if he hadn't seen him and went about with his routine.  Eventually they crossed paths when jogging, and despite Todoroki's usual aloofness, he attempted at conversation.  It was awkward, as neither one of them was really good at impromptu topics, but he still tried.  He knew he had been trying to be more social and friendly over the time since their first year, but Katsuki hadn't cared to see his progress on it. He had no particular eagerness to be friends with him, mostly due to their differences and lack of common ground.

There were other reasons, too, ones that he'd rather not think of at the moment.

Katsuki vaguely caught Todoroki's reasoning for being awake.  It was something to do with not adjusting well to the schedule, but he wasn't really paying attention.  That went for most of whatever he said.  Katsuki just nodded and grunted where he felt fit without contributing much else to the conversation.

After a while, their forced dialogue turned into a small challenge which led to a 'friendly' sparring session. They went at each other with ferocity, but nothing like their fight back in the first year's sports festival.  It lasted for almost an hour, and when it was over, there was no clear victor.

It shouldn't really matter, if there was a winner or not.  But it still mattered to Katsuki.  Ah, well. At least he won where it was really concerned.

They had taken their showers far apart and dried off almost completely in silence.  Katsuki was hurrying to get dressed, his urge to distance himself growing. It was still early in the day and plenty of time before anyone would start waking up.  He thought about going back to Izuku's room for a little bit, with no real goal in mind other than to be close to his boyfriend.

He would only get a little while with him.  Izuku wanted to get up early to go see All Might, and he wouldn't want to distract from that.  Well, distract him then.  He could distract him now and he'd probably enjoy it.

"Can you believe it's almost over?"

Katsuki grunted in response.  He was towelling his hair dry.

"Three years..."

Katsuki didn't respond.  He was thinking if he should get a snack before he went back to Izuku's room.

"It'll be odd not to have everyone around anymore."

"Speak for yourself," he finally chimed in.  "I can't wait to get away from you losers."  The words felt like habit more than meaningful.  They came out naturally, though he knew it was far from what he meant anymore.

Todoroki made a noise, and Katsuki could have sworn it was a chuckle.  It sounded odd from him, but he supposed it wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

There was a small pause before he thoughtfully asked, "Even Midoriya?"

That caught Katsuki's attention. He had just lifted up his arms to put on his shirt, and he turned to look at him, hands awkwardly above his head before he quickly righted the cloth to its proper place.  "What about him?"

"Just thought even you would share in everyone's sentimentality: it'll be disappointing when he's no longer around."  His voice was wistful.  He was putting on his shoes, his eyes focused on the laces.

Katsuki fixed his lips in a straight line.  He said, "It's not like I'd miss the nerd."

He was lying.  Of course he would if they were too far apart.  But that wasn't any of his business.

"I think I might."

He had to look away from the half-and-half hero, lest his glare be too obvious.  "I'm sure everyone thinks that."  He tried to keep the seething out of his voice.  

"Yeah, maybe..."  He knew that tone.  "But..."

"Our agencies are close," Katsuki said without thinking.  It was a truth.  They were going to be close even after school.  He didn't need to mention it, but he felt a need to.  He needed to show off his closeness to Izuku.

Todoroki made a thoughtful noise. "How lucky," he said, his tone unsure.  "You can still see him, if you wanted to."

Of course he would want to.  The choice of agencies had been deliberate. He had even given up his first choice just to be closer to Izuku.  He hadn't told his boyfriend as such, but only because he knew he would be upset and tell him to accept it instead.

Katsuki grunted again.  He quickly put on his socks.  He was tired of the conversation and just wanted to be as far away as possible.

"Bakugou."

Katsuki shot a heated look at him. He was staring straight ahead at the lockers.

"What."

"You're... close to Midoriya, right?"

He didn't answer.  He was too busy concentrating on the flush that had crossed his cheeks.

"I was just thinking..." he started.  He was still looking in front.  "It's so close to the end, and there won't be much more time to--"

Katsuki didn't let him finish.  He hadn't put his shoes on, but he didn't care. He carried them as he stood and left the locker room.

Katsuki was quick to Izuku's room, foregoing the idea of food completely.  He was quiet when he came into the room and quiet as he undressed and slid back into the bed.  Izuku was cuddling the pillow he had been using just hours before, but it wasn't hard for him to replace himself with the down.  Izuku wrapped his arms around him almost instantly, burying his face in his neck.

Katsuki kissed him softly, just to see if he would respond.  He did, though tiredly, and it was all the incentive he needed to press forward.  He rolled him over on his back to lay kisses along his jaw and neck.  Izuku made a sleepy sound, but turned his head as if to encourage him.

He adjusted, sliding his knee between his legs as Izuku spread them.

"Katchan...?"

Katsuki kissed him roughly.  This got more of a response, as Izuku put his arms around him.  He pushed into him, craving more of his body.  No, more of him.  More of his Izuku, his Deku.

And no one else could have him.

::*~~*::

Hours later, Katsuki found himself heading back to the dormitories with Kirishima, Kaminari, and Hagakure.  His two friends had offered they all go to 'breakfast' (or what should count as it with their current schedule), and he extended the invitation to Hagakure on the way out.  

They stayed at the restaurant longer than necessarily needed, but it was refreshing for him.  He needed the distraction or else he might read too far into his conversation with Todoroki earlier.  He had wanted to talk to Izuku about it, just to ease some of his worry, but his boyfriend had been late getting up and rushed away.

He guessed he was to blame for that.

When they had finished eating, they roamed around the streets for a bit, finding a rather nice arcade to waste even more time in.  Hagakure didn't seem as familiar with the surroundings as the young men were, but Kaminari took her under his wing to show her the best games to start with. By the time they left, she was playing more advanced games with all of them and keeping up with them pretty well.

Katsuki wasn't the best company for the day.  He was still in a rut, exasperated by his mania.  He was feeling hostile, and almost everything his friends said would get a glower or growl.  This didn't deter them from keeping him involved, making sure he got a turn at consoles and including him in conversations, despite his lack of input. They left him alone when he started to flare up too much, but didn't leave him behind.

He didn't deserve it.  They should have just left him behind.  The fact that they didn't mattered, but he had no true way of expressing that.  His lack of being able to say something as simple as a word of gratitude should have excluded him from the friendship completely, but here they were.

Kirishima had tried to talk to him more than once while they were there.  He would get to a two player with just him, and then he would start to talk about general things.  Then he would lead into how Katsuki was, and there would be an attempt to get him to open up.  The words weren't blunt, but he knew the question was about his attitude and his personal being.  He didn't answer him fully, other than maybe hints that he was all right.

He should have been more honest. Kirishima was his friend, after all. He just didn't know how to open up without admission to either his relationship to Izuku or his staggering condition.

Maybe it was time to be honest. Maybe he should just say it.  But the words didn't come out, and he didn't feel like coaxing them.

Before they left the arcade, Katsuki spent time at the claw machines.  He had always been oddly good at them, but he thought it more luck than anything else.  He just moved the joystick and pressed the button and would get something.  He had a go at it until his goal was achieved.

As they left, he threw his spoils at his three friends.  They laughed and teased him, but they didn't push his buttons much further than that.

It was the least he could do.

By the time they got back, it was close to the start of their shifts.  They all made their way to the electric boards with their names, checking their partners before getting into their hero outfits.

Katsuki wasn't too thrilled with his partner for the evening.  He wasn't really fond of many of his choices, really, but Ashido was probably at the lower end of his list.  She was just too... bubbly for his tastes.  Then again, that was what he had thought of Hagakure.  Maybe it would just be mildly annoying instead of obscenely obnoxious.

He glowered when he noticed the name next to Izuku's.  

He reached into his pocket for his phone to text him, only to come up missing.  He sighed.  It had been at least the tenth time that day that he had forgotten he left his phone in his room.  He had put it on the charger before seeing Izuku in the morning, but had just no mind to pick it up between then and now.

He had thought of it earlier, when he and his friends had first gone out.  He was going to write a quick note in the application he was using to keep tabs on his mental status.  He still needed to do it.  He had tried to be good about it since Izuku had set it up for him the last time he'd left his phone in his room.  The update wouldn't be much different than it had been for the past few days, but his spike in energy brought on by his earlier encounter felt note-worthy.

He owed it to Izuku to keep up with it.

He turned intent on getting it, when he was called back by Denki.  He hesitated at first, but shrugged, thinking he would just get it when he was done getting dressed.  There was still time.

Katsuki had already gotten dressed by the time Izuku found him.  He was on his way out when Kirishima stopped him, talking about something inane.  His boyfriend had come up, all smiles and just a good air about him, and stole him away.  He went with him easily enough, finding this just as good as texting him. It should have been a simple discussion, after all; he didn't see why Izuku would have any trouble seeing why he should change partners.

Izuku led him away to hidden area beneath the large stair case.  It wasn't an obvious place; you'd have to be looking for it to find it.  They were familiar with it, as they had used it just the day before for intimacy and not been caught.

Katsuki had barely gotten out his question for what he wanted when Izuku was on him, arms around him and kissing him. It had caught him off guard, but quick enough he was pushing back into the kiss.  He put his arms around him, holding him as well as he could with his grenades in the way.  He let himself go for a moment, responding to him.

He smelled wonderful.  Katsuki knew it was the fermin, but it was strong, and it was pleasant.  Just because he knew what it would do to him didn't mean he didn't want it around him. He liked it.  He liked that scent, and he liked the attraction it brought to him, sometimes at least.  He didn't need it, and he wouldn't really miss it when it was gone, but he would enjoy the smell by itself nonetheless.

When he felt Izuku's tongue against his lips, he had only one assumption what he wanted.  It had to be similar to where his mind was started to wander. For a moment, he thought about giving in.  He could make it quick; he had been frustrated all day, even after spending so much time already with Izuku earlier.  All of his concerns were still festering under the surface, and he needed a way to relieve them.  What better way than with the person he was most concerned about?

He could shove him into the floor where the ceiling inclined.  It would be annoying, his unitard was awful to deal (it wasn't the first time they'd tried to fool around in their hero suits), but it was completely possible. He didn't have any of his packets on him, though, since he was running low on his box.  He needed to get more of those soon.

Izuku's fingers were in his hair, tugging just lightly.  He wasn't being too insistent, but he knew soon enough he would be.  They had to stop before it got too hard, in more ways than one.

Izuku whined when he pulled him away. He rolled his eyes.  "Deku, we don't have time for this."

Izuku smiled as he took Katsuki's face in his hands.  His expression was soft, and Katsuki couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking right then.  

"I don't want that," he said. "I just... I just really wanted to be close to you."

Katsuki gave him a disbelieving look. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?  You seemed... angrier than usual."

He didn't answer at first.  He knew he couldn't hide so easily from him. He would always see through him simply. He had been a simmering bit of ill-content for days, and Izuku had understood that.  Today had just been worse by his earlier conversation with Todoroki, as insignificant as it was, and his swirling thoughts around it and similar topics.

He was sure he was projecting his discontent with all of it.  But he didn't want Izuku to know that.  He wanted to ignore it and not to worry him.  It was all stupid, anyway.  He knew better.  And he knew Izuku would feel something like guilt if he expressed his worry, no matter how foolish it all was.  He didn't want that.  He would swallow it, bite it back, if it meant keeping Izuku content.

He sighed and pressed his forehead against Izuku's.  "It doesn't matter.  Just..."

"Just?"

"...swinging up."

It wasn't a lie.

Izuku visibly softened.  He kissed the bridge of his nose.  He could guess what he was thinking, that it was a miracle for Katsuki to admit to it.  It was distracting from the issue, that's what mattered.

"You going to be okay on your patrol?" Izuku asked.

Katsuki nodded.  "It's just Ashido.  She'll be annoying, but I can deal."  His partner would be simple enough to deal with.  But what about Izuku's?  Had he thought to switch?  He frowned, his jaw clenching as he thought about it.  "You need to change partners tonight."

He didn't mean to say it like that. He meant to ask if he had.  His words had poured out his insecurities without giving any room for Izuku to clear his anxiety.  Of course he would have already switched, there's no reason not—

"What?  Why?"

A low sound left him as he pulled and moved away from Izuku.  "What do you mean why?"  His tone was low and said through gritted teeth.  How could he even ask that?  How could he not understand why he didn't want him around Tokoyami?

"It should be obvious."

Izuku's brows rose. "Katchan, I don't know what you mean."

Katsuki looked away from him for just a moment, back to the locker room area.  He saw people moving out, and he could hear them heading upstairs, ready for their patrols.  He needed to go, too, they both did.  He took a breath and closed his eyes tight.  He forced himself to calm down.

Izuku probably just thought he could handle being around Tokoyami.  And he probably could, in all honesty.  But they would be alone in a dark building all night, and even if they were separated, what if...  Izuku could handle himself.  Izuku wouldn't do anything.  Tokoyami probably wouldn't do anything.

But Katsuki could feel the heat in his veins at the very thought of the bird hero around his Izuku in the night, completely alone.

He looked back at Izuku, who was giving him a quizzical look.  "Please. Just anyone else but him."

It sounded so needy to him.  But he needed Izuku to understand.  It didn't matter how sure he was that Izuku wouldn't let his guard down.  It didn't matter how irrational it was to even entertain the thought.  He just couldn't stand the image that came to his head.

He didn't have the strength to think about it all night.

Izuku reached out to him, but Katsuki stepped back.  He didn't particularly feel like being touched suddenly.  "Katchan, I don't—"

"Later," he interrupted. He needed to get away.  He wanted to run.  He just needed a moment to breathe.  "I'll stay tomorrow, okay?  As long as you want, just..."  That was a good exchange, wasn't it?  Izuku was always whining about how the left long before he woke up. He'd risk getting caught if it just meant to him agreeing with his plea.

"I have to go find Ashido," he said, now a good distance away from him.  "Be safe tonight."

He only saw Izuku raise his hand before he was rushing up the stairs and away from him and everyone else.

::*~~*::

Katsuki hated the cold.

It wasn't that it affected him too badly.  He naturally ran hot, and it had to be a severe drop in temperature before he would start shivering.  And if he did get too cold, he could rub over the area and warm himself up with controlled explosions.  It only worked for his skin, though, and if the chill went too deep, he'd have to rely on traditional means to bring his system back to normal.

He'd been able to go out without any extra clothing for the Tour so far.  His hero outfit covered most of his body already, only leaving his shoulders vulnerable, so he didn't find himself needing anything more.

He regretted his earlier rush to get away from the dormitories, a vain attempt to leave his invasive thoughts behind with the building.  Even when he stood outside waiting for Ashido, he knew he should go back in and get the thermal shirt he had specifically for such cold evenings.  He hadn't thought about when he came back from hanging out with his friends.  He'd been wearing a jacket, and the cold didn't really get to him at that point. But he knew it would, and it was only his urgency to move further away kept him from going back and fixing the problem.

He had thought that it wouldn't matter; once they had started moving around their route, he would have warmed up and forgotten the chill in the night.  However, shortly after they got to their designated block, a commanding officer approached them with a specific request for the evening.

Now he and Ashido had been stuck in an abandoned building, watching a warehouse and waiting for a signal from the local police.  They were to watch the warehouse to make sure no one left, and to tell if someone did. There was a raid planned for early morning, after some minor red tape had been taken of, and the heroes were there as back up if anything got out of hand.  There were other police in other buildings watching, and it was all meant as a team effort to bring down some underground syndicate.

More life lessons for the aspiring heroes, he could almost hear Present Mic say.

The building they were confined to was empty aside from old furniture and cobwebs.  Plastic covered different places, as if it was a project left in a rush for whatever reason.  There were tools and construction left everywhere.  No one had been in there for what was probably years.

It would have been a perfect setup for one of the horror movies Katsuki liked so much.  He was just in too much of a foul mood to appreciate it.

Ashido had not been as chatty as he originally thought she would be.  She started some conversations, but when it was evident he wasn't going to participate, she dropped it.  They switched between who would do the look out.

When it was her turn, Katsuki found himself bored.  In his earlier hurry, he'd forgotten to get his phone from his room.  It wasn't just the entertainment he was lacking, it was the contact with Izuku that he wanted.  It left him anxious, wondering if his boyfriend had switched partners like he had asked.

Of course he did, he thought.  If he could have, he would have.

If nothing else, he could have been talking to him, easing himself.  But he was left to his own thoughts, which were quick to spiral.  He just kept pulling himself back, forcing his thoughts onto more pleasant things.

It was getting around one in the morning.  They had already been there for a few hours, and it just felt like it was going to drag on longer.  He hadn't really cared for the late shift, but it wasn't really that bad normally. The first two days had gone by rather quickly, and he figured the rest would, too.  Tonight would just end up being an outlier, with how they were stationed with a pair of binoculars and a window and nothing else.

The building was cold.  There was no electricity or heat, and the chill came in from all of the various glassless windows.  It made his arm hurt more than the usual low temperature did.  He should have worn his brace, the one he got specifically for this issue, but he hated the way it felt inside his grenade.

He had taken off the large canister not for the first time that night, and he rubbed at his forearm.  He massaged it gently, but it didn't seem to help much. He contemplated taking off his sleeve and warming up the area, but he knew it would just be a temporary solution. He would have to do it constantly if he really wanted to help it.

Katsuki groaned.  He'd probably feel the ache for the majority of the next day.

"I'm back."

Katsuki looked up from his arm and at the entrance to the small room they were stuffed into.  The binoculars were on his lap, unused for several moments. He should have been checking out the warehouse more, but he was too easily distracted that night.

"That was quick," he observed.

Ashido shrugged.  She handed him a bag and a cup of something warm.  He took it with a grunted word of appreciation. She sat down in the other seat and opened up her own bag.  

"It's so cold tonight!" she exclaimed.  "I thought I'd freeze before I got back."  She pulled her coat around her for a second, nuzzling into the fur around the neck.

"And yet here you are," he muttered.  She chuckled, ignoring his tone.

She had only been gone for about fifteen minutes to get them something to eat and drink.  At least he guessed fifteen minutes.  Maybe it had been more.  He didn't have a watch without his phone.

He rubbed his arm for another quick moment before he took a sip of what was in his cup.  He stuck his tongue out at it and groaned.  "Why is there so much sugar in this?"

"Oh!  I wonder if that's mine," she pondered out loud.  She took a quick sip of her own drink.  She grimaced and bit her tongue.  She got up and handed him the cup, glaring at the offending cup.  Katsuki exchanged it, and they both took a sip to make sure it was right.

"I would ask how you can stand something so bitter, but it's Bakugou, so that's answer enough." She was smiling as she said it, and there was no malice in her tone.

"Ha ha," he said dully. "Am I supposed to comment what wanting it so sweet means for you?"

"I already know I'm sweet," she replied as she sat back down.

He rolled his eyes.  He almost commented how Izuku was the same way with his, but bit back the words.  He put the drink down next to his chair and looked back out the window, squinting at the area that they were supposed to be watching.  

"You okay?"

Katsuki looked back at her, brow raised. "Why?"

She pointed at his discarded grenade and her eyes were on his arm.  He looked down at it himself and realised his hand had migrated back to it, massaging it in an attempt of relief.  He had probably done it subconsciously in response to the constant ache it was giving him.

He breathed a quiet 'oh' when acknowledged what she was referring to.  "It, ah... just hurts sometimes when it's cold."

Ashido leaned forward in his seat, obvious interest on her face.  "What happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?" he responded.  "I broke it in second year."

Her face lit up with recall. "That's right!  You had a cast for, what, six months?"  She rubbed her chin.  "Didn't I sign it...?"

"Everyone did," he said. "Deku made a big deal about it."

She laughed at that.  "I bet you hated that."

"Of course I did."  He didn't mention he still had the cast from after it was removed.  It wasn't like he kept it as sentiment for the class' sympathy.  Not entirely, anyway.

"Why did it take so long, anyway?" she mused.  "You'd think Recovery Girl would get it fixed up real quick."

Katsuki looked back outside, his eyes glued to the front of the warehouse.  "She can only do so much," he answered.  "The bones were shattered.  Even after surgery, it still took forever for everything to get back in place."

"How'd you break it?"

"What?"

Her expression was bright with curiosity.  "Your arm.  No one ever said how it got broken."

Katsuki narrowed his brows lightly. He hadn't really talked about it to anyone but Izuku, but he was there.  There had been a few teachers around, but they didn't know the extent of what led up to it.

"It was when you and Midoriya got lost in the woods, right?"

"We didn't get lost," he corrected.  He leaned away from the window.  "We were separated; there's a difference."

"Whatever you want to call it," she said.  "Was it during the fight with the typhoon guy?"

"It was the tree guy," he said.  He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as he remembered the incident. "Typhoon guy was how we got split up.  Tree guy was the one... hunting us, I think?  I never got his full deal."

"And he did it?"

"He..."  His face scrunched as he contemplated what part of the event he should tell.  "I fell off a cliff and landed on a tree."  It was what happened, in so many words.

Ashido didn't need to know the part where his flight off the edge was a result of his subconscious decision to protect Izuku at all costs.  Izuku knew why he did it.  That's all that mattered.

She tilted her head.  "That broke your arm?"

"The branch that went through it is what broke my arm."

Her eyes went wide and she whistled. "That must've huuuuurt."

"From what I remember, it did."  He put his foot on the wall and pushed, leaning his chair back on two of its legs. "I really can only recall what it felt like when it went through.  I passed out from shock pretty quickly, so I don't know much until I woke up back at school."

"Did you get a scar?"

He gave her an even look. "Of course I have a scar."

"Can I see it?"

"Why do you want to see it?"

Ashido shrugged.  "Chicks dig scars?" she offered sarcastically.

He scoffed.  "Don't really care what chicks dig."

"Fine, guys dig scars."

Katsuki couldn't argue that. Izuku loved it, in a weird way. In the warmer months when he wore more exposed clothing, he'd find his boyfriend staring at it.  He remembered when he got it.  He'd remember what all happened that weekend.  He'd smile and run his fingers over it and kiss it, and then become increasingly affectionate.

Despite the amount of time they'd been naked around each other lately, he hadn't been as observant of it lately. Maybe it was because how much time had passed.  Though it was a reminder of the start of their relationship, it was still in the past. So much had happened in the near two years since that training trip.

Maybe Izuku was too distraction by his need for intimacy to focus on it like he used to.  They were both good reasons.

"C'mon, Bakugou," she pleaded in a sing-song voice.

Katsuki groaned. "Fine," he said.  She gave an excited squeal, her attention square on him.  The legs made a dull thud as he set the chair back down.  He took off the sleeve quickly and held up his arm.

Ashido had almost leapt out of her chair and took his arm in her hands, eyes inspecting the proffered appendage. "This is really gnarly," she commented.

Katsuki gave her another moment before pulling his arm back, looking at the area himself.  The scar was large; mostly round from where the branch had punctured him, going straight through his ulna and radius and on both sides of his arm.  There was a long line going through it from the surgery it took to repair it.  He was lucky they had Recovery Girl.  If she wasn't there, there was a strong possibility he would have lost the arm all together.

With that alternative, he would take a stiff arm in the cold any day.

He put back on the sleeve without another word.  She seemed almost satiated as she sat back in her seat and pulled out some food from her bag. She was just a curious person, he guessed.  It wasn't the worst of quirks.

They fell into a silence as they went to snacking.  Ashido was smiling all the while, even humming when her mouth wasn't full of food. He found it somewhat bothersome, but couldn't bring himself to really complain about it.  One thing he had learned during his relationship with Izuku was not to admonish someone in a good mood, no matter how it got under his skin. It was a crude response to something innocent.

"How's Touru-chan?"

Katsuki gave her a confused look. "Fine, I guess?" his response came in a slightly unclear tone.  "Why are you asking?  Aren't you two besties or something?"

Ashido gave him a bittersweet smile. "We haven't gotten to talk that much over the year," she said.  "I've seen her around you a lot, so I thought I'd ask."

Katsuki scoffed and shrugged, turning his attention back out the window.  "Whatever," he said before popping a chocolate into his mouth. They went back to quiet.  He rubbed his arm once more before putting his grenade back on.

After several moments, he sighed and glared at her.  Her humming had faded and she had been staring at him for minutes on end.  When he looked at her, she had a thoughtful expression on her face, but her gold eyes were still trained on him.

"What?" he growled out.

"Trying to think of how to ask you something."

He blinked.  She'd been blunt with him the whole evening, what was stopping her now?  "Ask what?"

She tilted her head again and scratched the bottom of her chin, humming.  She opened her mouth once than closed it, as if she was reconsidering what she was going to say.

"Just come out with it already."

"You... smell like Midoriya," she finally said.  "Like. A lot."

His brows furrowed.  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, maybe this is me just guessing and all, but you don't strike me as someone that gets too close to his friends."

He tapped his knee impatiently. The observation felt obvious.  His friends knew he wasn't really the touchy-feely type, and they kept their distance from him.  Aside from Izuku, though he didn't really count.  And Hagakure, but he just hadn't gotten in through her head yet not to hang off him as much.  At least Kirishima had calmed down after a while, though he still did, too.

His friends really needed to learn not to touch him as much.

"And?"

"You shouldn't have a scent on you like that, then.  Unless you were really, really close."  She gave him a little smirk.  "Like, intimate and such."

Katsuki clicked his tongue. "What are you getting at?"

"Tokoyami said Midoriya was out of bounds," she said.  "Doesn't seem he is for you..."

He glared at her, his teeth bared through a light growl.  "Were you going to try and fuck him?"

Ashido gave him a wide grin. "That's very telling."            

"You fermin really do just gossip about who you can fuck, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes.  "It's not like that, you know."

He thought of how Tokoyami phrased it, that they were just 'helping' each other.  He had thought about that conversation a lot over the past few days. He was sure he was being authentic with his reasoning.  Who knew better what a fermin needed than another fermin?  He still didn't like the answer.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Are you and Midoriya a thing or what?"

"Jumping to conclusions, aren't you?"

She gave him a sceptical look.  "Am I?"  She stood up and was close to him much too quickly for his liking.  He pulled back, but she was within centimetres of him, sniffing him.  "That is Midoriya.  I know it; I've been smelling it since his fermin started." She tapped her nose, still in his face. "I have one of the best senses when it comes to it, and believe me when I say, it sucks.

"So don't think you can just shrug me off.  No other reason for him to be all over you than the obvious."

"Why does it matter?"

She leaned back, giving him the space he needed.  He was grateful she had; he wasn't sure how much longer he could have held off before he socked her in the face.  She was still smiling, but it seemed less mischievous now, more genuine.

"It's okay, you know," she said.  "I'm more curious than anything.  I mean, his scent is so heavy.  And it's really nice, too."  She put her palms on the window sill and leaned back.  "I just like being around it more than anything. But I kind of wanted to know why someone with such a good scent was off limits."

"I'm sure it's not the first time, with how you all group up."  He stood up from his chair and headed to the other side of the room, getting his much needed distance from her.

Ashido shrugged.  "Sure, Tsu-chan had a really good smell, but it wasn't as... prevalent?  I think that's the best word."

Katsuki gave her a look, even while he paced along the wall.  "What exactly does that mean?"

"You always know a room Midoriya's been in," she explained.  She was watching him as he moved.  "His smell, it just kind of hangs around.  You can tell where he stays the most, though.  When he's hugged someone or something."  She grinned again.  "Anytime I've walked by you, you smell like him.  Even now, he's stronger on you than anyone else."

He clicked his tongue but didn't acknowledge the accusation.

"So, are you?" she asked again.  "Or are you two in a will-they-won't-they kind of thing?"

"That kind of thing is stupid," he said definitively.  "Either you're with someone or you're not, that idiotic drama shit is worthless."

"Is that a yes?"

Katsuki groaned in response.  He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, before he looked at her again.  "Just stay away from him."

"Hmm, don't know about that." She walked back to her chair.

He glowered at her, and she visibly bristled when his palms emitted smoke.  She frantically waved her hands in front of her face.  "I get it!  Trust me!"  She scratched the back of her head and gave a nervous chuckle.  "Who would do such a thing if Bakugou's his boyfriend? That's just asking for a world of hurt!"

He grunted in agreement.

"What I mean is, Midoriya has a really good scent, as I'm sure you're familiar."  She gave a pause for him to respond, but went on when he didn't. "I just like being around it. It's like catnip or something."

Katsuki gave her another sceptical look.

Ashido waved him off.  "Don't worry, don't worry.  My fermin is loooong since over.  I mean, it was awful, but that's in the past.  Even though his scent is really... really strong and hard to ignore, I can keep it in my pants."

"I'm sure Tokoyami said the same thing."

"Hey, if he didn't do it, I was going to."

Katsuki paused at the statement, and thought how it was almost exactly what Tokoyami had said the other day.

"But I won't now," she assured.  "I... I already know about fermin having awful things happen in their relationship during their time."  Her voice was soft and had a thread of sadness to it.  She looked out the window, her expression fallen some. "I wouldn't want that for anyone."

Katsuki raised a brow.  There was something in the words she said that he knew he should be grasping, but it just wasn't coming to him.

He shrugged it off.  "He wouldn't really be into it, anyway."

"Not into girls, huh?"

He shook his head.  "Not that.  He isn't gay."

"Like you?" she asked. He could tell it was just her curiosity.

"Like me," he said easily.

"Then he's...?"

Katsuki hummed.  He came back to sit in his seat.  "You'd have to get him explain.  It's kind of weird, but he doesn't... he doesn't go for gender?" He looked outside.  "He's more about the person, or something.  I don't know how to say it."

She pulled out a box of konpeito and started to munch on the sugary stars.  "I guess that makes enough sense."

He shrugged.  Izuku had explained his sexuality more than once to Katsuki, and he got it for the most part.  It just still seemed strange to him, but he wasn't going to hold his fault in understanding against how Izuku felt about himself.  He just wouldn't try to explain it for him: that wasn't his place.

"Ah, if he really doesn't care then, we could have had so much fun!" she exclaimed.  "How unfortunate."

"Do I even want to know what you mean by that?"

"Well, if we're doing guy talk here," she started, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, "let's just say I'm twice the fun."

Katsuki wasn't sure he really wanted the explanation, but he felt a creeping curiosity.  "Twice the fun?"

She nodded, grinning.  She didn't say anything else, just raised her brow suggestively.

"...wait," he said, the gears finally turning in the right way.  "Do you... have both?"

She just kept grinning, a sense of pride about her.  He had to admire that.  "Huh. I can see where that would be interesting."

Ashido gave a victory hum as she crunched on more candy.

"But I don't have a chance, do I?"

"Not a one."

She gave a sarcastic, defeated sigh, and shrugged.  "Oh, well!  Was worth a shot."

She gave him a genuine smile.  He thought maybe his lip turned up a bit.

"I still want your permission, though."

"For what?"

"What have we been talking about?" she said and tutted him.  "I just want to, you know, rub up on him, and get some of the smell for myself."

Katsuki gave her a strained look. "You can't—"

"Don't worry, I get that I can't fuck him, and that's fine, really."  She threw one of the stars at him.  He swatted away at it.  "I just want to be around that smell."

He contemplated it for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Fine, but if you do something I don't like, you'll regret it."

She made a small squeal of a noise. "Of course, of course."

"And get his permission before you do anything too weird."

She nodded enthusiastically. "I won't be too strange, I promise."

"Better not be," he grumbled.

Ashido sat back in her chair, laughing.