#he feels he became what he was turned into when his agency was stripped which is a trauma on top of a trauma

[mydarlingclaudia]

bunnies love bouncing

note : divider is from @/aquazero. my mutuals have been making me think about ogre4 Leon more than I already do so this is what I spat out I know this kinda sucks. sorry I always have to write like eight paragraphs of lore before the smut starts it's who I am. Leon is ooc sorry I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WRITE HIM dw about it kitten. I don't know how I feel about this one. mdni

wc : 1.7k

tags : @lottiies

desc : you're supposed to make him feel good, why not make him feel even better? smut!! - unprotected p in v, reverse cowgirl, light choking. little bit of fluff, fem!hybrid!reader, post re4og!Leon, not proofread.

The whole reason Leon got you was because you were supposed to be therapeutic, somehow. He didn't really understand how having a roommate he had to take care of was supposed to help him feel better, he didn't even feel like he even needed therapy, but the whole situation had been referred to him by some other agents in the DSO before Spain, but when you were the hybrid that had been picked out for him and you looked at him with your pretty little eyes with your cute rabbit ears twitching atop your head, Leon couldn't really imagine turning you away.

Leon can't help but be a little bit mean to you, you're so easy to tease and he loves the way your nose twitches and your foot thumps against the floor when you get upset. You always forgive him in a matter of minutes, anyway, all he has to do is open his palm and show you a piece of candy he had hidden away and you're already nestled into his side.

His least favorite part of having you might be having to buy you clothes. You take so long to try on everything, and you insist on showing him each new outfit you get to make sure it looks nice or that he likes it. And you always want these cute panties and bras, which of course absolutely had to be modeled for him. But whenever it came to underwear, you’d pull Leon into the fitting room, which made everything way too close for comfort, and you’d spin around and ask him if the underwear looked good on you and he’d have to pretend he wasn’t starting to feel hot. Not to mention how cute your little cottontail looked perched above your panties.

And you’re cute, always waiting by the door for Leon when he comes back from work, snuggling up to him so quickly that he has to pry you off of him to even be able to get his shoes off. He’ll tell you to scram for a few minutes while he unpacks his things and finishes whatever paperwork he had to take home with him, you always sigh and wander into the living room to watch tv, hoping Leon will be done soon so he’ll keep paying attention to you.

You got attached quickly, that made Leon feel kinda good, he supposed. Leon had to get your own flip phone for when he went away on missions, in case of an emergency or to order yourself pizza, but you ended up calling his agency more often than not. And you were allowed to since you were registered as a therapy hybrid under the agency, you weren’t allowed to speak to Leon directly when he was on the job, but Hunnigan would always let him know when you called and asked how he was doing, she always humored you, it was cute to her.

Having you around does make him feel a bit better, getting extra attention is nice and you’re always so sweet to him, Leon figures that taking care of you isn’t too bad sometimes.

He gets to see you naked every so often.

It’s cute, you always strip down to nothing when it gets too hot at night, it doesn’t stop you from sweating through the night, unfortunately. You’d always wander into Leon’s room come morning and ask him for a bath, trying to climb into his bed even when you were still naked.

The first time you had done it, he had groaned and held his hands out in front of his eyes to keep himself from oogling you for too long, but you had flopped down onto his stomach and just laid there for a few minutes while he debated whether or not this was a good idea or not.

It became more normal now, not that he minded, he likes to reach down and give your tail a gentle yank just to hear you yelp. Maybe even “accidentally” grope you just because he can.

You sit too close to him sometimes, too. Sometimes you’re on his lap, either facing away from him or with your head buried in his neck, either way, he’s gripping onto your legs, trying not to focus on how you’re squirming in his lap.

He likes when you curl up into his bed at night, you grip onto him like a bear-trap and don’t let go until morning. Leon’s aware of everything all the time, especially on how your lips are pressed against his neck, he knows you’re not trying to kiss him, but he can delude himself a tiny bit.

You were so sweet tonight, babbling about how you had missed him and how warm he felt. Leon couldn’t help but kiss your cheek, you had giggled as you squeezed him tighter and pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return.

Things escalated kind of quickly. One second you and Leon are kissing each other's faces, the next his tongue is down your throat, then the very next, your back is to him as you ride him.

Leon’s grip on your hips is almost bruising, guiding your body while your hands grip just above his knees to keep yourself upright. He can’t tear his gaze away from your cottontail, smiling to himself as he watches it twitch.

“You’re so cute,” Leon murmurs, pulling you down to meet his upward thrust. You groaned, your nails digging into his skin, Leon’s hands left your hips and trailed up your stomach until he cupped your breasts, yanking you back against his chest. “So sweet for me, too.”

His lips attach to your shoulder, planting kisses on any open space he could find. While his hips were busy rutting against you, driving his dick into you, his hands busied themselves with kneading your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingertips.

“You were such a-a blabber-mouth before, mm fuck, you’re finally quiet now, hm?” Leon teases, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your breasts.

“M-missed you,” You pant, moving faster to match his movements, you smile to yourself when he lets out a groan as you clamp down around him.

“I know, God- mhm- always so good to me. Just wanna make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,”

“You’re doing a pretty good job. Sooo perfect, holy shit-“ He stops fucking up into you for a few seconds, letting you do the work as focused on the feeling of your hot cunt sucking him in. You had been so ready for him when he pulled off your panties, he couldn't help but drool a little at the sight of you all wet for him, couldn't hold back from giving your clit a few kisses and gentle nips, either.

Leon's right hand leaves your breast to move behind you, tugging at the tips of your droopy rabbit ears, tipping your head back a little bit as you hiss. He tuts, bringing the furry flap of cartilage to his mouth to press a kiss against it, finally deciding to start bucking his hips again.

Holy Hell, the wet sounds coming from the two of you were gonna be stuck in his head for the next two weeks, at least. Not to mention the noises falling from your mouth and the way you looked bouncing up and down on his cock, he'd have to have you facing him the next time you do this.

And you felt like you were on fire.

You weren't gonna tell Leon, but you've been wishing for this to happen since forever. And maybe it's dumb to crush on the guy who takes care of you, but you can't help it! Just like how you can't help humping his pillows when he's gone, or wearing his shirts when you have a whole closet full of clothes you asked him to buy you, but this was way better than any of that. You were willing to do this until you were all sore and Leon had to do all the work, you wouldn't even mind passing out.

And he felt better than any dream you could have, mostly because of how he's hardly giving you a break, but also because it's him.

You're pulled from your barely-there thoughts as Leon's bicep wraps around your throat, squeezing gently as your head tips back and his other hand shoots down to play with your clit. Was he trying to drive you crazy? Your hands grip his arm, fingernails digging into his flesh as you try to ground yourself, trying to take in as much air as you can in case he decides to squeeze harder.

"Feel good?" He mutters against the side of your head, smiling as you nod. His fingers poke and pinch at your clit, your own thrusts start slowing down as you begin to feel your orgasm start to coil up in your belly.

Your head droops down, resting against his bicep as his grip loosens, you almost whine when his fingers leave your clit to hold onto your stomach, keeping you against him even more.

"Gonna tell my boss to give you a f-fucking promotion when we're done," Leon pants, the noises coming from his mouth slowly becoming more needy, doing nothing to aid in stopping your arousal. "Cum, please. Gonna lose it. Shit-"

Leon offers up a few more hard thrusts before you feel the coil snap and you cum, biting down on his forearm as you breathe through your nose. Leon isn't far behind, his thrusts become lazy as he reaches his own high, his arm moves from your neck to wrap around your shoulder to hold onto you tightly, you shiver as you feel his cum coat your insides.

"Happy?" You mumble to him, tilting your head to rest against his as you teasingly tease his spent dick, listening to him groan while he weakly thrusts against you.

"Very," Leon presses a kiss to your head and loosens his grip on you, letting you rise off of him. "Let me see your face, next time." You turn to face him, draping your legs over his while you lay down on the bed and catch your breath. Leon should have gotten you sooner.

"You can see my face now,"

"Don't play dumb, you know what I mean."

[talkaboutanythingcuswhynot]

Your thoughts on Kunikida... 🎤🎤🎤 I'm listening because I love the idea of a darker version of him, whether it's just morally grey or completely twisted...

Ooh! I’m both very worried abt him and imagining aus of him

He’s very loyal-TOO loyal-to his ideal and people around him. And he’s sacrificing(*cough* suicidal-) which I think, agency didn’t noticed it before doa happened.

I mean, sure ranpo and fukuzawa got suspicious, but then he would say that he did it cus he remembered yosano’s schedule and recognized her footsteps, it was calculated, etc.

And they’d believe him, cus yeah, he doesn’t ‘look’ like he’s suicidal. And probably dazai also was distracting at that issue. But then, this mf decides to jump off a helicopter and blow up himself.(that’ll bring whole angst things after all of this, if they think abt it. Probably.)

Nd the interesting part for me is how….desperate he is about his ideal.

He is desperate to save someone-to not see them die in front of his eyes-and break down when he fails.

And yeah, seeing someone die- especially child-is traumatizing, so fair. But to me, it seems that he was desperate to not see another death in front of him before all of this happened.(azure messenger, aya)

And the thing is, we don’t know his past. The hc abt him being math teacher is just a theory dazai suggested. And that kind of reaction, the desperation doesn’t form naturally.

He clearly went through something that made him turn to this agency. I mean, compared to others, his ability is more..convenient. He can use it in normal life-like making a pen when he forgot it or making a spoon when he broke it-yet, he is using it to make flash bomb and rail gun at this agency.

It would be interesting, for sure.

And his strength. Sure, fukuzawa trained him, but still he is very strong. He just breaks the wall by punching it, and kicks table out of his way like it weights nothing. We don’t know full of his strength, I’m sure about it.

Also, how his character could be more…dark.

I..personally don’t think he’ll be like azure king. I became sure that he’d rather be dead than breaking his ideal and harming people after his ‘stunt’.

But there are so, so much possibilities that could’ve happened, and that’s the thought that entertains me.

Like I said, he follows his ideal. Not justice. The only way I see him leaving/betraying agency is that he sees them unfit or against/harming to his ideals.(which, I don’t think will ever happen)

Like I said at the post before, it’s fun to think about aus such as,

What if mori took him in when he was young(remember, we don’t have his canon backstory, we can’t be sure about anything) and shaped his ideal for his taste?

What if he was a hunting dog, and his ideals matched fukuchi’s? Or what if it was like canon’s and he went against him after he learned the truth, like jouno of tachihara?

What if, he met fyodor way before this and he manipulated him to change/reshape his ideal to match his?

He’s very loyal, so it would’ve been interesting to see him as other organization member.

And imagine, he is hunting dog and went undercover with tachihara. That would be fun, cus yk,

While tachihara is having identity crisis, he is having both identity crisis and crisis about his ideals. He is sure about basic principles for it, sure. But he isn’t sure how he should act for it.

What government did-experimenting child, taking away humanity from people-would not fit his ideal, right?

And him joining hunting dogs when jouno recruited him? All the guilt and his ideals, and having to face against them even though he knows the truth? Feeling his humanity stripped away? Ooh, boy that would be a hell of a ride.

Well anyway, to me, he is very interesting character because there are so much possibilities how he could’ve been and how he could be.

Thank you for asking 🙏

[dross-the-fish]

You put a lot of emphasis on Adam making choices but I'd argue that Victor forced his hand by abandoning him

Victor does bear some responsibility for his persistent refusal to acknowledge Adam's humanity, that definitely didn't help but it's fundamentally important to Adam as a character that he be treated like he has a will of his own. Part of being human is having agency, people have been outcasted and shunned since the beginning of time, rarely do they choose to go on a killing spree. Regardless of why he made it, this was Adam's choice.

Adam may not have believed he had other choices but after a certain point I feel like he stopped caring. He went the route of, "If it's a monster you want then that's exactly what I'm going to be and you are all going to regret it," which I honestly kind of love. In my version of the story I decided that he didn't stop after Elizabeth, if anything it escalated and he stopped valuing human life because it never valued him. He declared war on mankind and stuck to that mindset, so I toy with the possibility that he may have burned some settlements to the ground and killed indiscriminately towards the end of the book. As Adam crosses lines I tend draw him more and more grizzled looking and by the time he hits the arctic there's no softness left to his appearance.

A question I really like to ask in regards to the creature is not so much whether he can be redeemed but whether he should be. Did he cross a line at some point that made him unsalvageable? If one becomes a monster can they still ask to have their humanity acknowledged? Despite all of this I believe that after the death of Victor Adam still hopes for a connection to humanity and redemption.

And I believe he'll continue to seek it out, the line "Life, although it is an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me," says a lot about Adam as a person. I don't believe he's simply going to give up on trying to live, I don't think he has it in him. He loves being alive too much, even when it's painful and difficult. Victor made him resilient and I believe that applies mentally as well, so I don't buy that the creature actually wanted to destroy himself.

I like to think Victor's death was a turning point for Adam, a hard lesson learned. In a way Victor was the only person Adam was close to. He spent so much effort getting Victor to chase after him and keeping Victor alive so that the chase could continue because that's the only relationship with another person that Adam has ever had. When he loses it it's the first time Adam has to feel loss and grieve. And he does grieve. I believe that ironically, only by losing the very person he was seeking validation from he finally understood the desolation he'd been inflicting on others. Adam became his own victim and like it was Adam's choice to embrace evil it's also his choice to abandon it. Choice is, after all, the burden of humanity. We have to allow him that much agency otherwise the possibility for his redemption is meaningless.

Putting all the blame on Victor is unfair to Adam because if we take away his free will to choose evil then we strip him of his ability to choose good later down the road. Redemption is a huge theme for my version of Adam and before I let him have that I want to walk him right up to the moral event horizon, look it in the face and decide for himself that this isn't what he wants.

Adam can be offered second chances, but at the end of the day his salvation, like his damnation, rests in his own hands.

[steelycunt]

okay so i don’t mind reg bc w/e this is fandom innit ppl can do what they want, but i think you’re so right that remus and lyall are fundamentally much more interesting characters and so is their relationship. reg by himself is somewhat compelling but no one in the fandom seems to care abt what makes him compelling i.e. stuff that actually happened in canon not just fanfictions that he’s been featured in. for instance, i see it being stated as though it’s fact that his parents abused him which we don’t know iirc? we know that sirius was mistreated and i do think being raised by political radicals would likely cause a turbulent home life, so i doubt regulus came out of his childhood unscathed, but we have no actual proof he was treated similarly to sirius at all. he was still a supremacist, just not to the extent that his parents were. as far as i’m concerned he died a fascist, but he had a “for thee but not for me” tory level attitude about certain things.

oh absolutely! with regards to my position on regulus, im in no way trying to say that people can’t/shouldn’t like him—as you say, people can do as they like, but im just personally not at all interested in him or with what general fandom consensus has chosen to do with him. the things that would make regulus compelling in canon do not necessarily compel me anyway, but more than that i agree that a lot of people have chosen to virtually wipe those things out out in favour of creating a morally pure conceptualisation of him that they don’t feel the need to defend (not that i think anyone should have to defend having an interest in regulus anyway).

i suppose i am just not personally predisposed to having an interest in canon regulus, so his popularity is not something i fully understand, but particularly the version of him that has been created by fanon...honestly i find him irritating, and generally i find even less to be interested in in a conceptualization of regulus that strips him of agency, flaws and responsibility. i said in that other post that i dont think regulus is as complex as he's given credit for (which applies even more once fanon is through with him), and i honestly stand by it--i reckon he was fully willing, albeit having been influenced by his upbringing, to become a death eater, and i don't buy the narrative that he had no choice and was forced into it and had no personal sympathy with the politics of it all. i find it ridiculously convenient. and then, i think he started having doubts when the impact of all it all became a little too close for comfort (for thee but not for me is quite a perfect summary lol), and he turned traitor. that is really all there is to it for me. i do not think that he would have rejected his parents' ideology if given the chance, the way sirius did. but i recognise really, since i don't think a character's morality or lack thereof should dictate whether you're allowed to enjoy them, the discussion of regulus' morality is sort of besides the point lol, other than the fact that i find his complete and unrealistic redemption via fanon rather boring and admittedly a little lazy.

my comparison between his relationship with sirius and lyalls relationship with remus in the earlier post was mainly just me. making a joke of sorts and being a little unserious, but i do genuinely think lyall and remus are a lot more interesting and complex--though i 100% recognize that this is largely personal preference and im not trying to dress my opinion as an objective fact. mainly, i guess where i am with it all is that i already dont really have an interest in regulus from canon, and despite his huge surge in popularity i have never seen anything in fanon that really changes my mind about that (apart from. maybe one fic). which is fine! nobody is obligated to sit here and try and tailor their own takes on, or fondness for, this guy to attract my interest, or win me over. that is not their job. my opinion holds no more weight than the next guy's, and my lack of interest in regulus is not anyone else's problem, just like i am not ever going to exert energy trying to win someone over to liking remus or liking r/s. i am never going to go to someone's blog or fic and have a go at them for liking regulus/demand they justify themselves. BUT, in the safety of my own blog, i figure im safe to say these things xx and as far as im concerned, my favourite thing regulus ever did was piss off and die xx

[cardentist]

if you don't mind me adding

I think there's this mindset that jon can Either be the victimizer or the victim of his circumstance, either he is an addiction allegory who takes pleasure in causing pain or he is merely trying to survive the awful circumstances of being turned into something that Must subsist on the pain of others to survive against his will. when these things not only Can co-exist, but Must co-exist in an examination of his narrative.

the thing About addiction is that it is very often a symptom of something that is out of a person's control. pain, illness, poverty, things that make living life as is unbearable. and it is Also true that sometimes addiction can actively make those things worse even while still providing that relief that isn't being provided elsewhere.

as an avatar, you either feed the powers or the powers feed on you. either you give in to being a monster or you are eaten from the inside out. as an avatar, feeding on the fear of others Feels Good.

and it's awful to grapple with, much like the vampire to abstain from the victimization of others entirely is to suffer and die. but it is impossible to engage With that victimization without Indulging in it, no matter how much disgust or self hatred you take with it.

and like, Yeah. if you as an addict have absolutely no means to deal with the awful circumstances that you use to escape from the reality of, then cutting yourself off can feel like that.

it is not Just the withdrawals, but the underlying suffering under it, which is taken as much more Literal in the fun house mirror of the magnus archive's world.

is it Fair to ask jon to suffer and die because the nature of his very existence makes him too monstrous to deserve life? is it Fair to ask countless people to suffer just to be fed on, to have their trauma ripped out of them and their autonomy stripped away?

so many people around him only see one half, they see jon as a victimizer and not as a victimized. they want him to cut off his feeding with no bottom to catch him after, not understanding the cruelty that inflicts on jon.

but at the same time you can't sympathize with jon without sympathizing with all those victimized by his existence. the situation at it's core is unfair because they are All victimized by the same system. there is no inherent difference between avatars and their victims, there is no inherent difference between jon and the people he hurts.

but it's Easier to pretend that there is. it's feels Nicer to conceptualize avatars as making meaningful choices because otherwise the truth is that there Is no real agency in this world. there's no sense of inherent Fairness. there's no way to outsmart being a victim, to outsmart being a victimizer.

and like ! that's the point ! that's Exactly what the characters are grappling with!

jon became the archivist not for any special reason, not because he was inherently better or inherently worse than anyone else, But By Chance. because he was perpetually in the wrong place at the wrong time. he could have died when he was 8, he could have lived a perfectly normal life with his parents, and by chance he didn't.

basira excused daisy's actions while condemning jon as an extension of her Own capacity to cause harm! martin had his own lonely domain that his mind blocked out because he couldn't conceptualize himself as capable of that, But He Was! a man that was victimized in an ant colony was moved up to the role of victimizer against his will and suffered just the same but Differently by having that power over other people!

and like ! at the end of the day the Point, I think, is that absolutely nobody in the tma universe truly has agency But The Choices They Make Still Matter.

is it Fair to ask jon to suffer when he was turned into a monster against his will? no, it's not. but it Matters that it matters To Him. to care about the suffering of other people in this world is painful and difficult, but it is ultimately the Thing that matters more than "human" or "monster."

everyone has the capacity to Be a monster, but loving people, caring about the suffering of others, that is a choice. to not be human and yet to still have humanity.

and that is the inherent struggle of jon's situation, because to care about the safety of other people he must have the power to protect them, but to have power in this world Is to inflict suffering on others.

you can't have the addiction metaphor Without acknowledging the lack of agency, you can't have the lack of agency Without acknowledging the inherent themes of power and addiction. it is not one without the other, it is a complicated soup that's difficult to navigate.

but at the end of the day, the Point of the magnus archives, To Me, is that Caring is still worth it even when it won't save you. that having loved, that having cared, that Trying regardless of whether you have true agency or not, Matters.

and I think ! that that's a really interesting and poignant theme when it comes to addiction metaphors in media.

not in the absolute one to one translation of a tragedy where all characters are stripped of agency, but in saying that there is Inherent value in love, in caring, regardless of circumstance. that being viewed as monstrous (whether internally or externally) impacts Personhood far less than the intent to do good.

addicts are not monsters, but society often views them that way. tma engages with this Idea of monstrousness and asks if all people are capable of it then what does the distinction between monster and human Mean.

I guess the thing that makes me not so fond of Jon's addiction allegory is that it's only coherent to a certain extent? Like I think people sometimes forget that he's actively violating these people

anon, through no fault of your own you have accidentally hit upon my sleeper agent trigger phrase. I have layers of answers to this.

so first off, yeah, it's not a 1:1 direct metaphor, it's a soupy dream logic fantasy plot device with flavors of a lot of different things. there's quite a lot of addiction in there, there's some abuse of power, there's some cyclical nature of trauma, there's a dash of disability, there's a few notes of gendered violence, there's a good bit of just. violence violence and being kind of a motherfucker because goddammit it feels good to be an active agent about something in your life, even if it's just choosing to be a worse version of yourself than you strictly need to be. a lot of tma's worldbuilding is very allegorical, but apart from aspects of individual statements nothing really matches up quite 1:1 with a real world counterpart, and if more things did then it probably wouldn't be a fantasy show anymore.

secondly. okay to contextualize this answer a little bit I have a kind of hypothetical video essay project about vampirism and addiction that I like to spend a few hours thinking about every so often but am almost certainly never going to make because the full research burden required is a lot higher than I actually have the time to properly do. but because of that I've spent a lot of time sorting through why framing vampires as addicts really works for me in a way that it doesn't seem to for everyone, and I think a lot of my thoughts on that also apply to jon. there's going to be a bit of a detour here before we get back to talking about tma, but we'll get there, I prommy.

I've seen a lot of people take issue with various paranormal addiction allegories because, a lot of the time, the act that is meant to metaphorically represent the act of use itself is something that is directly and inherently harmful to others, e.g. drinking human blood, handing over power to your hedonistic Evil alter ego, holding the cursed amulet and going crazy going stupid, slurping trauma out of the head of some guy you ran into on a boat to norway, etc., and yeah, I do get that. substance use is not inherently harmful like that to anyone except sometimes the user themself, and addicts are not inherently fucked up and destructive people; those are dangerous stereotypes that often lead to the demonizing of a whole group of sick people.

here's the thing for me, though: those are definitely truths I want explored and represented when it comes to portrayals of non-allegorical actual addicts, but fantasy fiction isn't for showing the world as it is, it's for showing a subjective fun house mirror version of reality where certain aspects are minimized and magnified depending on how it feels to live through it. and yes, absolutely in real life drug use is not an inherently evil act and it does not make you an inherently evil person, but... doesn't it kind of feel like that? sort of? absolutely no one is living their best life nor on their best behavior while experiencing any kind of major mental illness episode, and when it comes to addiction you've got a very clear tangible symbol of when The Episode is happening that it feels like you have much more control over than when it comes to other illnesses. it's also a thing where people are a lot more likely to be openly angry and distrustful of you if they find out it's happening. so you mix together the ideas of "I know I get worse as a result of doing this one specific thing" + "I act less like myself when I'm using, it rearranges my priorities and I care less about hurting people because that's what happens when you're experiencing The Horrors" + "society at large/people directly around me are pretty quick to say that doing this is evil," and you get the subjective emotional result of "I hurt people by using and it makes me monstrous." I tend to respond to those kinds of paranormal allegories like they're just cutting out the middle man of those subjective fears. "using makes me monstrous" -> "using is monstrous."

anyway. jon archivist.

don't get me wrong, I totally understand if this aspect of metaphor doesn't gel for some people and they only like taking it exactly as far as the text explicitly makes them, but I really get a lot out of reading jon's connection to the fears as addiction precisely because he does genuinely awful things to people as a result of it. he's a person in a very bad physical and mental place with little to no support who is constantly being told by both allies and enemies that he's already a monster just by being alive, and he copes with that by secretly falling further and further into an compulsive act of consumption that skews his priorities and makes him care less about hurting people because at least sometimes getting to be the cause of pain makes him feel a little bit less powerless when he has to be the subject of pain the rest of the time. then he's found out and is made to stop, and he has to grapple not just with the physical toll of withdrawal but with knowing there is a not insignificant part of him that will excuse any act of malice if he knows he'll feel better afterwards.

the end of tma is very explicit in the fact that the rules of its world are shaped by the subjective worst fears of those who live in it, it's "an exercise in unreliably reality" as jonny sims put it once, and I think that principle extends backwards in some ways to apply to the rest of the show. I don't think the fact that there are only entities of fear and not hope or love is meant to be a full commentary on the total nature of the real world, it's a reflection of what fear and suffering can make the world feel like. eric and melanie both go to really harsh extremes to extricate themselves from the fears and live peaceful lives, and in both cases something happens that foils their plans (getting murdered + the apocalypse, respectively), but I don't think the intended message is to say that is definitively how real life works, they are metaphors for the limits of individual agency in larger systems and represent two types of worst-case-scenarios. similarly, I don't think reading jon as an addict implies that addiction inherently involves violence or that the reactions of those around him were completely unjustified, it's just a subjective exploration of the kinds of fears that can come with addiction dialed up to 100.

[andypantsx3]

shoto and 'when i find out who is responsible for this...' IM A SUCKER FOR OVERPROTECTIVE SHO LMAO

This one was one of my faves to write, I really hope you like it!

Damage | Todoroki/Reader

Prompt: “When I find out who is responsible for this...” Word Count: 1600 words Tags/Warnings: SFW, ye olde quirk accident trope Notes: Special thanks again to my lady love @bobawithpomegranate for beta-ing me!! Also, for anyone who hasn’t suffered a corporate job: KPIs = key performance indicators, which are a set of business metrics used to measure success in certain areas.

The first sign that something was wrong should have been in line for security. 

Ayako—your favorite member of the Todoroki Agency security team—was waving a detector wand over your clothes when she asked casually, “How’s it going?”

Any other morning, your response was something along the lines of, “Oh, it’s going. How are you?” This morning, however, you blurted, “Good! Except that I bumped someone on the train and spent ten minutes trying to get a coffee stain out of this shirt, and I feel a little sick when I think about leading the KPIs review because Shouto’s property damage numbers are up again which doesn’t look great, so I skipped breakfast but honestly I’m super hungry right now, that was a bad choice, and—”

You cut yourself off, utterly bewildered. Ayako looked similarly nonplussed, raising a slim brow. 

“Uh, nevermind. I’ll just be going,” you said, and hared off to the rest of the security checkpoints before she could give commentary.

So you might have known that something was wrong even before you let yourself into Shouto’s manager’s office, armed with your monthly spreadsheets and performance slide decks. But you hadn’t given it more thought since then, a move which proved to be a complete mistake.

Shouto was already there, lounging in the set of chairs in front of his manager’s desk, looking less like a hero waiting for a meeting and more like some airbrushed ad for his dark turtleneck or his close-fit grey slacks. Your heart shot into your throat at the sight of him, like it usually did, and you had to remind yourself to relax.

Though he was unbearably handsome to the point of distraction, Shouto was relatively easy to get along with, something that should have made you calmer in his presence. He was straightforward, possessed of very little ego, thoughtful, and a very linear and strategic thinker—you’d worked extremely well with him the past couple of years, and Shouto, though he had less to do with the daily operations of the agency, had helped push your promotion last year to Director of Public Relations. It should have added up to an easy and uncomplicated work partnership, but his personality only made your unfortunate crush on him even worse.

He was so horribly, horribly perfect. And you were an awful little metrics gremlin, called in to roast him over the open flame of public opinion once a month. Really not something Shouto might be interested in.

“Y/N,” he said, looking up from his phone and fixing you with an intent look. Your heart stuttered under those heterochromatic eyes.

“Hi, Shouto,” you said, setting down your bag and digging out your laptop for something to take your attention off of him. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” he answered in his deep tone. “How are you?”

And that was it. The damning question that sent it all to hell.

“My heart feels like it could explode any second, and I feel kind of faint, weirdly weak, and incredibly distracted,” you answered, naming the symptoms of his very presence.

There was a beat of silence. You froze, crouched over your bag, laptop halfway out of it. Then it hit you what had just been said, and you slapped a hand over your mouth in horror. 

Shouto was up out of his chair in the blink of an eye, kneeling in front of you with cool fingers on your face, angling it towards him.

“You’re not well?” he asked, those eyes locking on you with an alarming intensity.

His attention only made things worse. “I feel like I might pass out,” you said, cringing even as the words left your mouth.

Fuck, what the hell were you saying? You were making it sound like you were some Victorian maiden, ready to swoon in the mere company of a gentleman. And why were you saying this shit? You’d worked with him for years and you’d never let slip the effect he had on you—what was wrong with you this morning?

You thought back to the coffee incident on the train this morning, the way the girl whose drink you had spilled had startled, the way she had weirdly apologized to you even as you were in the midst of your own apology.

A sense of foreboding settled over you. 

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“I think I’ve been hit with a quirk,” you blabbed.

Shouto’s features shuttered, a hard look you’d never really seen before entering his eye. He went over to his manager’s desk, dialing a number on her office phone, and then he was talking in low tones, asking someone from medical to come up to her office immediately.

Then he was back at your side, easing you carefully to the floor like you actually were in danger of passing out, and not just a huge idiot with an incredibly fat crush that made you say the world’s most ridiculous things.

“When I find out who’s responsible for this,” he uttered, low and dangerous, “they might never be able to use a quirk again.”

For some reason, the threat warmed you, even as it sent a little shiver down your spine. Was it weird to find him hot when he was angry?

You clamped your mouth firmly shut, lest you tell him exactly what illness prevailed you, but your silence was all for naught.

Because when one of the medical staff made it up to the office, pressing a quirk testing strip to your skin, she pronounced, “A truth quirk.”

Shouto caught your hand before it could smack into your forehead, looking surprised that he had done so. And then even more surprised at the pronouncement.

“A truth quirk,” he echoed, looking down at you curiously. His fingers were gentle where they held your wrist.

You squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“But then, you’re still not well,” he said. He looked up at the medical staffer. “She’s feeling faint, and having problems with her heart.”

“She’s fine,” the staffer confirmed, holding up a scanner with your vital readings. They were embarrassingly perfect—incredibly, perfectly, damnably normal.

You could have died. You literally could have died.

Shouto looked down at you with a little wrinkle on his perfect brow, obviously wondering how you could admit symptoms like that given a truth quirk, only for there to be no physical sign of them. You tried to hold down the truth, but another question from him doomed you.

“But how?” he asked, clearly concerned, cool fingers smoothing over your cheekbone.

“I have an insanely huge crush on you,” you blurted. Then you unleashed a string of colorful swears, flushing so hot you thought you might catch fire.

Those heterochromatic eyes went a little round at the edges.

The medical staffer looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh as she bade a quick farewell. She was out the door before you could catch her sleeve and hold her like a shield against Shouto’s incredibly penetrating stare.

“I’m. Um. You know, sorry and everything,” you added. “I won’t let it interfere with work. I mean, I haven’t, any of the past couple years—fuck, oh my god, I just said that—”

Shouto was watching your mouth like he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of it.

“Say it again,” he said.

You paused, staring at him. “What?”

“Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“My heart feels like it could explode any second, and I feel kind of faint, weirdly weak, and incredibly distracted,” you answered obediently.

“Because of me,” he said, like it was a wonder.

You gave him an annoyed look. Obviously because of him, who the fuck else did he think wielded that combination of attractiveness and straightforward appeal like an S-class quirk of its own?

Shouto choked on a laugh, and you realized with some horror that you’d said all of that out loud. 

Damn the fucking truth quirk.

“I don’t know,” Shouto said, sounding amused. “I think I rather like it. When I find out who is responsible for this, I might have to thank them instead.”

This stopped you short.

He what now?

“I’m sorry, what?”

Something a little like a smirk curled the corner of Shouto’s mouth. “It is generally gratifying to know one’s feelings are returned, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t know—” you started, feeling annoyed with him again. Then you choked when the implication of his words sank in.

Shouto’s fingers slid down to cup your chin, and suddenly it felt like every nerve ending in your body was concentrated there, the touch magnified a thousand-fold into an all-consuming sensation. 

“Would you like me to kiss you?” he asked lightly, looking smug.

“Oh my god yes—” The answer was out of your mouth before he’d even finished the question.

Shouto laughed, and then he was leaning in. You could feel the smile still on his mouth when it met yours. Shouto’s kiss was careful and attentive, but you could sense something deeper beneath, the same kind of restrained sort of passion that underlaid his quirk. Having that kind of controlled intensity turned on you was something you could have never prepared for.

The kiss became deeper and more heated, and Shouto was just easing you backwards again, still pressed firmly to you, when the door opened and his manager blew in.

“This is a fucking office,” she said, stepping over the two of you like you were a grimy puddle in the street. “Now hurry the fuck up, we have KPIs to review. Shouto—don’t think this will derail me from your property damage numbers increasing.”

Shouto huffed into your mouth, slumping against you.

You couldn’t do anything but laugh.

Current event masterlist in pinned!

[colorseeingchick]

Special Cuddles Headcanons (Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki)

All Cuddles are special!!! But some are more special than other if there’s a bigger emotional link behind it, so here are some headcanons for those types of situations hehe

A/N: Headcanon writing perplexes me for NO REASON so I’m so sorry if this is not how headcanons work OAISDNFOWI 

Warnings: slightly suggestive? Aged up regardless (they’re all pro heroes)

Midoriya Izuku 

Cuddling with Deku is by far the most frequent form of physical affection you guys share.

Usually, you would be tucked up against him, with his arm around your waist while you who lean against his shoulder.

And you two would usually read a manga, scan his journal, or just watch videos together like that.

It was a major source of comfort for both of you.

But sometimes you wanted to be closer to him.

If you both came back from training or patrolling and were exhausted, you would usually just want to watch anime together and just relax.

Deku would probably be on the couch before you, waiting for you. 

And seeing him itself just made you put your guard down a bit.

When you would arrive you would pull his legs apart (which would, of course, get him really flustered).

“Wha-what are you doing Y/N??” 

But you were too tired to actually mess with him, so you just turn yourself around and plop down between his legs.

Your back would be resting against his chest. 

And you would tug his arms around your stomach so he could hold you tight.

Once he realized you weren’t trying to do anything more than cuddle, he would settle into the hold. 

You would stroke his arms that were wrapped around your stomach or use a thumb to stroke his knees that were on either side of you. 

He would rub your belly on instinct and would press kisses onto the side of your head and face.

He would also whisper sweet nothings and compliments into your ear. 

“You’re so cute, Y/N.” “You work so hard, baby. You deserve to rest.” “Is this comfortable? Do you want me to adjust?”

In your relationship, Deku always wanted to protect you. But just as much as he wanted to keep you safe, you wanted to keep him safe as well. 

He definitely fell in love with you when he saw how strong and resilient you were.

But that also came through in your relationship at times, in that you tried to stay strong even when you weren’t feeling like it.

So when you would cuddle with him like this, where you were entirely wrapped up in his arms and completely vulnerable, and he could feel your breathing-

This was his favorite thing in the world. And his favorite way to be with you. 

You would just stay like that for hours, eventually falling asleep in his arms. 

BONUS: sometimes you would wake up and he would still be awake watching TV holding you.

And sometimes, if you were really feeling it, you would rub up against him “in your sleep” and watch him stutter, blush, and feel his grip around you tighten (the poor baby was worried you were doing this entirely subconsciously and feared waking you up if his body *reacted*).

Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou loved being the dominant one in the relationship, constantly being the one showering you in affection. 

When you two cuddle on the bed, he’d always pull you onto his chest so he could hold you. And you two would talk or fall asleep like that. 

Or at least, that’s the image he would usually want to project.

The truth, though- is that he’s one big cuddly baby.

Bakugou will NEVER admit it. He also refuses to initiate it.

But you could also read him well enough to know what he wanted/needed. 

If he came back from his agency really frustrated, or even worse sad, you knew what to do. 

You would sit up in bed, and when he came through the door, you would beckon him to come to you.

He would then try and sit next to you, but you would pull him so he would be directly in front of you. 

“What.” He would stare you down with an intimidating glare. 

But you see how much your boyfriend was hurting inside.

“Come here.” 

You pull him forward by his face and kiss him, stroking his cheeks.

At this point, he would let all his sadness out.

You would pull him down onto you, so that he was on top of you this time.

His arms would happily encase you and your legs would wrap around his

He would nestle into your chest (if you have boobs, he IS using them as a pillow) 

You would rub the back of his neck and run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as you did so 

You could see the goosebumps rise up on his neck and arms.

And you lightly run your fingers over the sides of his arms so it tingled and made the chills worse.

Extra points if you can get him to shudder. 

He would glare up at you, but his face would still be buried in your chest so it would just be cute.

After that, you would close your eyes too, letting one hand rub his head while the other traces  “I love you” onto his back, passively humming. 

With this much soft affection, this man would knock OUT. 

You were his safe space and biggest source of comfort.

And no matter ‘weak’ or soft he may have been on bad days, you would never make fun of him for it.

Even better, you wouldn’t mention it. You knew that it would only make him defensive or insecure.

So those moments of pure vulnerability and intimacy would continue on as a shared secret between you two, always present when you looked at each other, love shining in the back of your eyes.

BONUS: Bakugou would go an extra mile to hug you tighter, tease you more, and cover you in bites and kisses the nights after he received special cuddles from you. 

Todoroki Shoto 

Cuddling for Todoroki was always a special occasion. 

You guys would cuddle on the weekends usually, if you guys could somehow get a day to spend at home (Todoroki half-lived at the agency). 

During this time, you guys would take turns being the big spoon.

Todoroki liked it. He loved it, actually. 

Physical affection made his heart flutter, and the warmth he got from you made even his own flames pale in comparison.

He wanted to be closer to you in any way possible, but he was also really sensitive to physical contact.

It could get really overwhelming because of his past experiences.

So he would be really nervous to ask you to initiate it, cuz he also didn’t know how he would react to it. 

Until one day he did, while you guys were cuddling, him spooning you.

“Y/N.” “Yes?” “Can I be closer to you?” “Like, physically?” “Yes.”

You giggle, because it was such a Todoroki question. 

It was innocent, obvious, yet genuine. Everything you loved about him. 

You also were aware of his sensitivity, so you knew that pinning him down or pulling him onto you would probably give him a heart attack, so you proceed with that in mind. 

Loosening his grip around your body, you wiggle your way around so you are now facing him. 

He looks at your eyes wide and unmoving. 

You then wrap your arms around his body slowly, so he could process what you were doing.

Closing your eyes, you softly pull yourself forward, your forehead pressed against Todoroki's.

When his hands grip your waist and lower back to pull you fully against his body, you open your eyes to stare directly into his hetero-chromatic ones.

You think it's wonderful until you realize-

"Shoto, why are you not… breathing??"

This boy had been holding his breath, and you could tell because his chest wasn't moving against yours, but his heartbeat was aggressively hammering against his rib cage so hard you could feel it.

"I was worried I would be breathing on your face and it would cause you discomfort and make you let go."

That was the last thing he wanted right now. This was everything he craved.

 It was like a hug, but better. your face was level with his now. Your body was entirely pressed up against his, both of you were pulling each other close, and your legs were intertwined. Best of all, he got to stare into your pretty, pretty eyes.

But somehow, it wasn't invasive. Probably because of the way you went about initiating it. It was heaven to him. He didn’t want it to end. 

You giggle once more before saying, "I don't mind you breathing on me, Shoto. I'm more concerned about how tight you can hold me-" 

As a response, he squeezes your waist, pulling you tightly against his abdomen.

"-so just relax, love. I'm not going anywhere." 

You two would then proceed to talk, sleep, or stare into each other's eyes, just like that. 

BONUS: This way of cuddling became more frequent for you two as Todoroki got more acclimated to the contact, but Todoroki soon realized you wouldn’t want to cuddle that way for too long because it got really hot. 

So one day, before he laid down next to you, he stripped his shirt off- and you obviously freak out.

He had an undershirt on, but STILL- AHHHHHHHH 

“Just so my clothes don’t make it hotter while we cuddle.” He said it so nonchalantly and clearly didn’t understand why you were freaking out. Oh Todoroki.

[reminisce05-20]

Dazai - The Book - Double Black

Dazai couldn't remember being a child, one of elementary age. He had only started to remember when he was around 14, which was when he first met Mori.

Sometimes, he wondered if he should be searching for answers, of who his parents could've been or where he came from, but he had easily moved on. Perhaps too easily, but he had no regrets. After all, the past didn't define him. He could write his own story from the present.

Only after words started to be written on his pale skin did he start to wonder who he really was.

Long sleeves could suffice, but just in case, Dazai wrapped bandages around his arms. Then his torso. Then up to his neck and finally his eye to give the air of an injury. The words hadn't spread quite that much, but it made his stomach crawl whenever he saw the squiggly lines all over his body. It was simply a precaution in case more words suddenly appeared.

Dazai soon met Chuuya, who was loud and angry and short, which made it even funnier when Dazai riled him up. Chuuya insisted that he was still young and growing. For the first time, Dazai wanted to laugh at the words he had seen yesterday on his elbow. Chuuya will never grow.

Although the words brought occasional joy, when he was 18, he saw words on the back of his left arm that said, Sakunosuke Oda will die. Sakunosuke couldn't die. His ability allowed him to see things moments before they actually happened, and Sakunosuke wasn't dumb. He would be fine.

He never had allowed the words on his arms and body to ever affect him. Words, in general, had never affected him since Dazai believed actions could speak much more.

"Be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, then choose to become a good person. Save the weak, protect the orphaned. You might not see a great difference between right and wrong, but... saving others is something just a bit wonderful."

For once, he took the words to heart.

Once, long ago when he was still young, not in the Detective Agency nor even the Mafia, Dazai had written something on his arm, something that tattooed itself to his arm for just a second before it burned away with terrible pain.

Dazai experimented. His ability, "No Longer Human", obviously canceled out abilities with no exception. The words were things to happen, things that were happening, and things that had happened. The timing for when the events actually took place differed, from as small as a minute to as long as a year. Dazai couldn't change events that were going to happen or create an entirely new one. It was probably a strange mix of the words and his ability.

Dazai had considered going to the President to inform him of the words. He was fairly sure that everyone else in the agency believed the bandages to be a fashion choice, excluding Ranpo and the President. He walked in front of the office door for a few minutes, pacing, before walking back to his desk. Perhaps the talk could be moved to another time.

The words were often too ugly to be shown to others.

Dazai was good at planning things, which made it entirely his fault that he hadn't prepared ahead for this.

A few days ago words had appeared on his collarbone, ones that said, "Chuuya will unleash Arahabaki once more. Secrets will be revealed." If Chuuya was going to showcase his powers, Dazai would no doubt be sent along unless Chuuya had managed to somehow subdue his powers effectively. Sure enough, he was sent to settle a dispute that would benefit both the Mafia and the Agency. It was always nice, seeing the top of Chuuya's hat, showing that he had indeed not grown a single bit.

He had misinterpreted the "secrets" on his arm. Dazai had expected it to be Chuuya's secrets, of how he stayed so short all the time.

In Arahabaki form, Chuuya had never attacked Dazai, at least not to kill. He had to have some semblance of control to not kill the only person that could bring him back, even if Chuuya hated him. But this time, right after defeating the enemy, Chuuya turned on him in an instant, giving Dazai no time to nullify his ability.

It would have been fine. Dazai only took a few hard hits before he tapped Chuuya on the head, nullifying his ability. They both staggered for a moment before Dazai laughed.

"Well, that was awfully close wasn't it, Chuuya?"

Chuuya huffed, angry but too tired to anything about it.

"Only if you had touched me a little earlier maybe you - hey what's that on your arm?"

Dazai froze before he looked at his left arm, bandages slightly unraveled, revealing the inky text on his arm.

"Some tattoo shit? Or maybe weird scars..."

Chuuya took a step forward while Dazai hurriedly rebandaged his arm with a hopefully winning grin.

"How observant of you."

Chuuya scowled for a second before staring at Dazai.

"Seriously, was it just some weirdo tattoo? Show me what you have written there."

Dazai made a mental note to seriously work out and train with Kunikida. Then again, it probably wouldn't bring him near Chuuya's level for a long time. Even after using Arahabaki, Chuuya stomped forward, grabbing his arm and unwrapping the bandage with unreasonable strength and speed. His control must have actually been getting better. Or maybe they had just defeated the enemy faster today.

"What the - what the heck is this Dazai?"

He didn't have the strength to stand properly, staggering a little bit while unsuccessfully trying to get out of Chuuya's iron grip.

"An occult tattoo I got when I was 14. It says 'fuck off Chuuya'."

"It literally says 'Sakunosuke Oda will die'. I've heard of that name before... who was that again?"

Out of all the sentences Chuuya could have seen, it had to be that one. Why not the one about Atsushi dropping his ice cream, or maybe the one about Chuuya's height? They could have laughed over that.

"This actually happened didn't it Dazai? Like, a few years ago?"

At this point, Dazai simply didn't care enough to wrench his wrist away from Chuuya. He had wanted to tell someone about this for so long. Chuuya and he didn't have the best relationship, but they could certainly trust each other. After all, they had been partners, right?

"It tells me things that are going to happen. Well, at the time of course. This already happened a while ago."

Chuuya simply stared, unsure of what to believe.

"I tried changing history once. It hurt really bad, I think it's got something to do with my goddamn ability, I hate seeing the words every day and having to bandage them - "

"Um... Dazai, calm down."

He hadn't realized he was breathing so heavily. His chest felt like it was burning.

It felt like it was burning just like when he was young - why was it like this when he hadn't written anything down on his skin?

"Dazai, what's going on?"

Dazai turned away from Chuuya before throwing his jacket off, then his vest, then his shirt to reveal the mass of bandages covering every inch of his skin.

"What the fuck Dazai, stop stripping in front of me - "

Dazai for once ignored Chuuya instead of sending back an angry retort. He unwrapped the bandages, not caring if Chuuya saw the words or not since the pain was burning as if he was dying and he wanted it to just stop. Stop stop stop.

The bandages were off to show the mass of writing on his back and arms and stomach and even up to his neck. Chuuya's breathing became softer, more confused and curious.

Chuuya will never grow.

Dazai will trip and fall on the doormat before meeting Akutagawa for the first time.

Sakunosuke Oda will die.

Atsushi will drop the ice cream Dazai bought for him and will be horrified.

More evil will soon come in Yokohama.

Chuuya will unleash Arahabaki once more. Secrets will be revealed.

Chuuya simply stared, dumbfounded, trying to read everything written on Dazai's back. Dazai on the other hand, looked down at the center of his chest to see just a few words.

Yokohama's Page - By Osamu Dazai.

The words were a gleaming gold, burning his skin before suddenly cooling into the familiar black, only a small golden border on the edges of each letter. Chuuya had now walked in front of him, kneeling, reading the words that had just appeared.

"So. You're some special shit."

Dazai let out a flat laugh. Indeed he was.

"It says 'More evil will soon come in Yokohama'. Right, Dazai?"

Dazai nodded blindly. He couldn't remember that one, but maybe it was because it was on his back. It was hard to read from a mirror.

"You should tell your agency this. Have you told them?"

Dazai's silence was the same as a confirmation. Chuuya mumbled something about how he always had to make his life worse, although Dazai knew that it was halfhearted.

After Dazai put on every single one of his bandages, thoroughly covering every inch of skin along with his other clothes, Chuuya and he walked in silence for a little. Usually, they would've been arguing all the way back, making the silence feel even worse.

"Oy. Dazai."

Chuuya growled when Dazai didn't make any move to answer before sighing and backing down. Dazai blinked, seeing that for the first time, Chuuya had backed down from an argument.

"We were partners before. Are we still partners?"

Dazai smiled.

"If we're partners, I'll be annoying you all day! I think that'd be pretty nice ~ "

"Well fuck you too!"

It was nice, feeling the usual annoyance flowing through Chuuya, the same remarks they always passed forth to each other.

"So you're saying we are partners, Dazai."

Dazai's eyes narrowed. What was with Chuuya being overly... nice all of a sudden? Being so calm?

Chuuya, catching Dazai's eyes screeched again before kicking over a trash can.

"I'm saying I can help you with this goddamn book shit! Words! Partners! The fuck is wrong with you?"

Dazai stared as Chuuya knocked over a few more trash cans while screaming about how utterly dumb Dazai could be for someone that was supposed to be so smart, so crafty, and so manipulative.

The familiar tickle of more words caused Dazai to flinch, hand moving toward his neck where the words seemed to be. Chuuya, who was done with his little fit, stopped for a second before walking over, no doubt intrigued. Dazai tugged the bandages down a little bit while Chuuya read the words out loud.

"Fyodor Dostoevsky is looking for another part of the book in Yokohama."

Dazai's eyes widened when he heard the name, and Chuuya no doubt understood that this man was someone dangerous if they could elicit such a reaction from Dazai. They looked at each other, understanding passing through their eyes.

"Well, I guess we're partners again Chuuya!"

"Only because I fucking have to!"

Dazai supposed that he would also have to tell the Agency about this. And as more people knew, the news would inevitably spread to the Mafia too. He only had to make sure that Fyodor didn't receive the information, and that was if Fyodor didn't already know about him.

"Fucking Dazai."

Chuuya grabbed Dazai's hair and pulled, forcing Dazai to yelp while batting Chuuya's hands away.

"We're going to crush this bastard Fyodor."

Dazai laughed at the sheer amount of determination in Chuuya's name, laughing like he never had ever before.

Indeed, Double Black would crush the enemy like they always did.

___________________________

Kind of an abrupt end, but you get the idea :>

[holden-norgorov]

I gotta say it. For all the issues there are in the show, my biggest disappointment is with the absence of Per Haskell, and Inej's freedom being directly dependent on Kaz. This altered the entire foundation of the Kanej dynamic that was present in the books and, as far as I can tell, there's no way it's not going to end up portraying either Kaz or Inej as incredibly OOC at some point. Another huge let-down is also Kaz's main drive and motivator being his love for Inej rather than personal revenge (which is something Freddy himself also confirmed in an interview, other than being contextually evident during the whole season). These two elements combined will lead to unescapable narrative or logical contradictions in the long term.

I was really hoping, until the last minute, that the show would come up with a clever justification as to why Per Haskell was kept out of the picture, without ending up sacrificing the core of Kaz and Inej's relationship. But it doesn't. And Kaz being directly responsible for granting Inej's freedom is a new, giant ethical dilemma that was never present in the books, and whose absence there gave moral context and permission to a lot of what happened in their shared backgrounds.

Inej's freedom being independent from Kaz was PIVOTAL in the books. The nuance and beauty of their relationship vastly came from the fact that Kaz had no actual means for estinguishing Inej's debt, and that her work for the Dregs was not something he could absolve her from performing in any way. At least, not until the giant, life-changing offer of 30 million kruge they got at the beginning of SoC, which was kind of the whole point. Until then, the narrative had made abundantly clear that Inej's agency was entirely dependent on Per Haskell holding her contract, and that despite having played a pivotal role in liberating her from the Menagerie, Kaz really couldn't do anything to absolve her from the criminal life she had decided to dive into in exchange of escaping Tante Heleen's whip. This is what absolved Kaz from any moral judgment, on the part of the reader, when it came to forging the myth of the Wraith and teaching Inej how to fight, kill, pick locks and steal. By having no leverage on her freedom, turning her into a weapon meant helping her staying alive and providing her with a better chance at solving her debts. It was not something he could spare her, only something he could help her master.

But in the show, with Kaz becoming the one and only obstacle standing between Inej and her freedom, the ethical dimension of their dynamic entirely shifted, loosing breadth, depth and complexity. They couldn't afford to make this shift and still keep Dirtyhands' main decision/action motivator being his own revenge against Pekka Rollins without turning Kanej into an abusive relationship. This is why Kaz was softened and why his own motivator became his love for Inej. They just couldn't portray Inej being in love with the one person who was directly holding her back from her freedom and whose character was also mainly fueled by personal revenge, completely utilitarian and without conscience, and perfectly willing to strip agency from his investments as soon as they proved to be useful to his cause, without for the relationship to become morally corrupt and abusive (and kind of Stockholm Syndrome-y). Pre-SoC Kaz not being burdened by the responsibility of Inej's agency and freedom in the books absolved him from moral condemnations on our part when it came to viewing Inej as a mere investment, or naively wishing for her to be tied to him and become Kings and Queens together, because he could not liberate her in any way. Inej was the only one responsible for paying her own debt, and none of the things she had to do to achieve that end were ever optional. This gave Kaz plenty of ethical turf to navigate that enriched their dynamic a lot without stripping Inej of her own agency (whose beholder was Per Haskell), and without having to compromise his own vengeful objectives.

So, what are we left with here? We are left with Kaz inevitably having as a character-defining motivator his love for Inej in order to avoid the glamorization of abuse (which is what this version of Kanej would be otherwise), which is not something workable for the integrity of the characters in the long run.

One of the things I loved the most about Kanej in the books was that the narrative established that they would do anything for each other, without for them to even need to (or arguably, be able to) talk out loud about it. That their bond was almost entirely fueled by introspection and internal monologues, and most importantly, that what they felt for each other never defined them as individuals. Inej's main decision drive was never her love for Kaz, but her own freedom and the newborn purpose of hunting slavers (which is, in its own way, a form of revenge for what was done to her). Kaz's main decision drive was never his love for Inej, but his own vendetta against Pekka Rollins that could silence Jordie's voice inside him and strip him of that feeling of shame that had been slowly eating him whole for years (which is, in its own way, a form of revenge for what was done to him). And they help each other out in achieving those ends by the end of CK (Kaz by bying her a ship, Inej by threatening Pekka's life), but their individual backgrounds still bear too much trauma to lead either of them to be comfortable enough in defining themselves according to what they feel for each other. Still, at the same time, it's established by the end of the duology that both of them are willing to try again, and that gives a hopeful note to their ending.

In the show, instead, Kaz ends up doing everything having Inej's freedom as a main motivator, because it's entirely dependent on him, and the romantic tension between the two would be toxic if this was not the case. But pre-SoC Kaz, Dirtyhands in the making, would spend 0.2 seconds in indulging Inej's complaints, would find himself another spider, kidnap Alina with no remorse or second thought and cash in the million kruge prize to build up his name and reputation, with the downfall of Pekka Rollins in mind.

In S01E02, when Inej is about to kill Arken to be freed from the Menagerie, she turns to Kaz and asks "so you choose him over my freedom?" and he replies "you assume it's one or the other". But this narrative doesn't add up. If Kaz is truly in need of Inej's skills but at the same time is motivated by his feelings for her and is willing to bet the entire Crow Club on her liberation from Tante Heleen, while Inej's main desire is to be reunited with her own family, find her brother (whose addition was completely pointless) and gain her old life back... how can the show make Inej stay with the Crows to, you know, carry out the plot of SoC and CK, in any convincing way? Why would we believe that she would give up her independence and newly-gained freedom to remain a criminal out of personal will?

As far as I can tell, the ending of season 1 left us with two alternatives. Either Kaz keeps his promise to her, gives her her own freedom back, and Inej decides to keep working for him instead of looking out for her family, or Kaz betrays her trust and keeps her under his own authority as the ultimate beholder of her contract, thereby making her own involvement in the Ice Court heist mandatory.

And I'm sorry, but both of these alternatives are deeply OOC and absurd for both characters, whose relationship has been taken into an entirely new direction thanks to the absence of Per Haskell and its narrative implications.

I just can't see how the writers can find their way out of this conundrum without utterly cheapening or entirely deforming the core of what Kanej is in the books.

[pearl-blue-musings]

Could I have a steak, medium, with mashed potatoes?

First diner request!! (This is for bakugo and I’ll be using his given hero name in this)

Pairing: proHero!Bakugo Katsuki x proHerofem!reader and they were roommates

Characters are over the age of 21

Warnings:  i’m still bad at writing smut i’m sorry language, some angst, oral(male and female receiving), spanking, penetration, degradation

NSFW so please if you’re not 18+ DO NOT INTERACT

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

The air around them was thick as they finished the paperwork for their latest mission. You had been working with Dynamight for a couple of years now and had grown close to the explosive hero. So close that the two of you now live together, Bakugo grumbling about it being cheaper than the both of you living alone. So this evening routine was normal whenever the two of you were involved in an intense mission such as this.

However, things were slightly amiss.

He didn’t offhandedly congratulate you on not dying “you damn extra”.

Hell, he didn’t even yell at you for almost hitting him with your quirk, which has happened no one’s perfect. 

But this time? Silence, pure and uncomfortable silence. So needless to say the ride back to your shared apartment was too quiet.

You didn’t say anything when you let yourselves into the building. He didn’t say anything when he unlocked the door and let the two of you in. It wasn’t until the door slammed shut behind him that he finally raised his voice.

“What the fuck was that?”

You had already walked into your room and began shedding your hero uniform. “I’m sorry?” You yell out from your room, halfway into your chill sweatpants and struggling to put on a comfy t-shirt. “What are you talking about Katsu?”

“Don’t play stupid with me dumbass, what the fuck was that?” He does his best to ignore the fact that you’re wearing one of his old t-shirts but he cant help the heat he feels seeing you like that. As if you didn’t do something utterly stupid an hour ago.

Your eyebrows furrow at his question, barely understanding what the blond is implying. “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about! Please enlighten me, Bakugo.”

“Tch, don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want if you’re gonna keep yelling at me for no damn reason!”

He pushes past you and enters your shared kitchen, already changed from being at the agency earlier and begins to prepare a meal. The anger hasn’t dissipated but he’s hoping to keep the conversation going by making one of your favorites. Bakugo is angry, yeah, but also incredibly attracted to his own roommate which makes him even angrier. He knows your eyes are on him, but he’s staying firm so then you can see how stupidly you were acting. 

“Bakugo!”

“You could have died out there dumbass!” He roughly turns off the stove, his want to make you food ruined. Your jaw drops slightly as you think back to what happened. Your thoughts run wild in your brain as you’re trying to figure out what he’s talking about. You almost die every day and this is the one time he’s concerned about it. Suddenly a light bulb goes off in your head and everything clicks.

You softly murmur, “you mean when I saved you?”

“Yes, (Y/n)! That.”

You hadn’t heard him that angry, especially at you. You remember Mina telling you that you’re the only woman he lets close so he’s never really mad at you. Maybe all of that has changed. Did Bakugo catch on to your harbored feelings or...?

“You mean me saving you from the villain severely injuring you? God, Bakugo, we put our lives on the line everyday and this is what has you riled up? Me, saving and protecting the number 3 hero from imminent death at the hands of some low level villain? Who am I, some low ranked hero to the world as opposed to you? I weighed my options!” Your voice raised after each sentence and your breathing became shallower, causing your chest to rise and lower very pointedly.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Bakugo, but he’s currently too upset to act on it.

But he does match your energy. “I was perfectly fine handling that hit on my own and you know that.”

“Without my quirk you would’ve been in the hospital.”

“And you’d be dead! Did you ever think that there are others that need you alive? Fuck!”

Finally his thoughts and feelings had come to light. You were taken aback at his questions, still trying to figure out what this really means for you. You try to speak up, “the world needs Dynamight. Not me.”

“I need you.”

Your eyes widen at the words you’re not sure he said. But he did say what he said right?

You stutter over your words, “I, uh, what?”

Bakugo rakes a hand through his hair and huffs out, “Fuck it, c’mere.”

He pulls you in by the waist, his hands fitting there perfectly and softly kisses your lips. At first you’re shocked but give into your own feelings, kissing him back as your hands wrap around his neck. Bakugo takes that to kiss you deeper, his tongue licking at your bottom lip making you moan.

You two pull apart, a trail of saliva connecting your lips as your breathing is labored. Your lust filled eyes meet his which are also filled with lust and one other emotion you don’t want to believe is there, but secretly hope it is.

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“That you love me, right Katsu?”

“Shut up, dumbass.”

He silences your giggles by kissing you again, this time more intense and lifts you onto the counter. His hands move from your waist to under your shirt. When his hands reach the soft skin of your breasts you let out a moan that went straight his nether regions. Fuck, he wants to hear those sounds from you all the time. He tests the waters further by pinching and playing with your pert right nipple and kneading your other mound. 

Breathy moans escape as you break the kiss to hide your own sounds. Bakugo meets your lidded eyes,”sweetheart don’t hold back on me. I wanna hear it all,” he emphasizes the last word by pinching your nipples harder making you scrunch your eyes closed. A curse leaves your lips as his ministrations on your breasts don’t let up.

“Fuck baby, when was the last time your body was properly taken care of? You’re so sensitive,” he growls into your ear, nipping and sucking at it in a teasing way. He pulls away to face you as your eyes flutter open at the lack of touch. You give him a questioning look to which he responds. “Stop me now if you don’t want this.”

Your breathing is ragged as Bakugo patiently and impatiently waits for your answer. You push him lightly away from your body in order to give you space to take off your shirt and toss it to the ground, your chest on full display to the blond. 

“I want this more than you know,” your words low and dripping, motioning him to come closer.

Without hesitation Bakugo sweeps in and wraps his arms around your body. Naturally your legs find purchase around his waist and he lifts you off of the counter. You feel his hard on right up against your stomach, riling you up further. Was this all it took to make this man want you?

His lips find haven on your neck, biting and sucking like he’s tasting you for the first time. “As much as I want to take you right here, let’s move it to my room, yeah?”

That knowing smirk he gives you goes straight to your core, making your panties wetter. That didn’t go unnoticed as he whispers out a fuck and rushes to his room. 

The feel of a lush duvet on your back alerts you that you’re now in his room and on his bed. His warm hands continue to trail and rake up your torso and over your breasts as you two make out. Bakugo backs up and off you only to trail kisses down the center of your body. He kisses in the valley of your breasts, leaving the area cool as his lips leave it for your belly. You try to cover up, a sense of insecurity overcoming you. The blond swiftly moves your arms away and kisses every dip and roll your tummy has to offer, sinking lower to where skin meets the fabric of your sweatpants. You feel his fingers on the hem as he eyes you for approval. You nod and in seconds your sweatpants are thrown across the room.

A clear wet stain at your core can be seen on your underwear, which isn’t cute but can’t change that now. Bakugo can already smell the arousal on you, “you this wet for me already? I haven’t even touched your pussy yet.” You moan at his words and try to rub your thighs together for friction. He smirks at what you’re trying to do and firmly places his hands on your thighs, almost threatening to leave imprints. 

“Tell me what you want princess.” You can feel his breath against the growing wetness of your cunt.

“Katsu, fuck. It’s embarrassing.”

He inches his hands closer to your clenching hole but never gets close enough. “It wasn’t embarrassing when you stripped for me in the kitchen yeah? You being a brat, slut.” He slaps your inner thigh making you gasp out. A sinister smile comes to his face at your reaction. “You’re such a slut, making such lewd noises so easily for me and I haven’t even done anything.” His fingers then glaze over your clothed pussy making you whimper. “Tell me.” he slaps your thigh again, “what you want.”

Your breathing is shallow with want as a wanton moan escapes your lips. “Fuck Katsu, I want- hah- I want your mouth.”

“Where?”

“Don’t make me say it - ah shit!”

The blond playfully bit right outside the lining of your underwear, knowing damn well where you actually want it. “Tell me.”

“Fuck! I want your mouth on my pussy, please!” You all but scream out the sexual statement.

You hear him chuckle and feel him shrug your underwear off, your hips rising to make the action go by faster. “That’s all I wanted, brat.”

You had always dreamt and played with yourself to the thought of Bakugo eating you out but it never amounted to the real thing. His lips wrapped around yours as he sucked and pushed his tongue inside your walls. For sure, the two of you are going to get a noise complaint but you’re too in the throws of ecstasy to care. His lips and tongue work in tandem to bring about the utmost pleasure to you. When his tongue and lips find your clit, he has to put pressure on your hips to keep them steady.

Your out of control breathing and whining turn him on more than would be possible. He growls and grunts into your heat, enjoying your taste and smell too much. He can feel his dick getting hard and leaking onto the mattress beneath him. He starts grinding into it to alleviate some of the building pressure. But it’s not as much pressure that’s building in your core; he can feel it. 

“Oh fuck, Katsu I’m gonna cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Katsuki continues to thrust his tongue in and out of you and suck on your clitoris as your ride out your first orgasm. Once your heartbeat slows to a normal pace, hair sticking out in all directions and sweaty you look down at him. He’s wiping away at his chin and sucking whatever was left off his fingers.

Did you...?

“Damn, sweetcheeks. You must’ve been holding back. That was fucking hot.”

“Shut up, it’s, hah, it’s not my fault my other partners couldn’t satisfy me.”

He crawls up to you and kisses you, making you taste your saltiness on his lips. “Well then we gotta make up for lost time, yeah?”

You scoff at him and notice his walls are low. Taking the initiative, you overpower him and place him on his back, straddling him.

“Heh, just what the hell do you think you’re doing, brat?”

You peck his lips and remove his shirt, “Returning the favor, what’s it look like?” Your hands deftly move down his toned torso, leaving fleeting kisses until you meet the line of his boxers, seeing his dick straining against the material. You do your best to keep in the drool leaking out of your mouth when you remove his boxers.

Bakugo gets a, rightfully earned, ego boost seeing your reaction to his penis. “Heh, take a picture it’ll last longer.”

You honestly debate it but just bite your lip at his sarcasm. His tip is already leaking pre-cum and you lick your lips at the sight. You bend down on your knees to get comfortable and then surprise him with a long slow lick from the base to tip. His hand immediately takes purchase in your hair, admiring the texture as he hisses out curses. You swirl your tongue all around the tip, making sure to dip into the little slit at the top.

That got a growl out of him.

“You fucking brat, you think you’re in control huh?”

You nod by sinking your mouth lower on his dick and quickly coming up with a pop, an evil grin on your face. Taking the challenge, Bakugo places not supporting hand on the back of your head, forcing you closer to his aching member. 

“Suck.”

You comply, with a little help, and begin to suck him hard and deep. Your cheeks hollow out the more ragged his breathing gets and add in more tongue. Curses fly free from his mouth as his eyes roll back in pleasure. He tries his best to keep his hips on the bed but the way you’re blowing him, he may just have to face fuck you. What turns him on more is the obvious bulge of his dick in your throat that almost makes him cum on the spot. 

You’re more than willing to drink up his cum but he stops you before he gets too lost in the feeling. “Baby, I wanna cum in you so bad but not like this.” He lets you remove yourself from his throbbing dick as he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. For some reason, tasting himself on your lips is something he can get used to. He flips you over to your back, eyes meeting in a mixture of love and lust. You truly see what he’s been feeling all this time and vice versa. His words from earlier ring in your ears and you calmly place a hand on his cheek.

“Katsu, I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Ruby eyes roll as he leans down to kiss you. “Dumbass, I know you’ll be sorry by letting me fill you up with my seed. You’re on the pill right?”

“Strange how you remember that and my favorite food.”

“Don’t ruin the moment.” He pauses as he sees the lazy grin on your face. He could get used to this. He’s still hovering over you, dick ready and throbbing as he teases your entrance. “Fuck, I love how wet you are for me. You get this wet for every other guy?” He continues to toy with your opening, making you whimper and squirm underneath him. “Answer me, slut.”

“N-no. Only you, Katsu- Ah!”

Happy with your answer, he thrusts into your awaiting pussy, breathing shallow at how warm and soft you feel around his penis. “Fuck, so wet and so tight. This pussy is for me right? Yeah it is, brat. Tell me.”

With each word he pumps in and out of you at a speed you never thought would be possible. Your senses are overwhelmed by him. The sight of him fucking you and losing control over you, the sound of skin meeting skin and the squelches from your cunt. The smell of sex in the air, the feel of his dick hitting you in all the right places, and the taste of each of your essences on your lips and tongue. This was paradise. “Yes, hah, it’s all for you!”

Bakugo slows his pace to pull you up for a messy kiss. He then flips you over onto your knees. A wanton moan leaves your throat as his member reaches deeper into you. Seeing you from this angle, he wants to engrave this view in his memory. The way your ass looks up against his skin, he can’t help but harshly smack a cheek. You yell out in pleasure, clamping down more onto him.

“Fuck baby girl, you like when I spank you huh?” He spanks your other cheek and got the same result of pussy clenching on him.

“Yes,” you pant out, “fuck daddy I love it! Spank me more!”

You’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore, pleasure and ecstasy flowing through you. He spanks you more, making the both of you closer to release. His hands leave your ass, one onto your waist and the other reaching for your clit rubbing it vigorously. 

“You gonna cum you slutty brat, huh? Gonna cum all over daddy’s cock yeah?”

He pumps into you harder, rubs you harder. “Yes, fuck Katsu I’m gonna cum.”

Bakugo abruptly stops, pulling out slightly to change positions. He sees the confusion on your face as you see you’re about to ride him. But there’s something else in his gaze. 

“That’s not,” he humps into suddenly and you cry out, “my fucking name is it?”

His movements almost feel faster this time that you’re on top. Your breasts bounce and jiggle in his face and he wants to fondle them earnestly. His hips gyrate faster and faster, chasing the sweet sense of relief he knows he’ll find. Bakugo wanted to keep fucking you from behind, but he wanted to see your fucked out face as you came again. His hand again begins to rub at your clit, bringing you closer and also clenching on his dick harder.

“Fuck baby girl. Are you ready to cum with me, huh? Tell me you’re ready.”

You keep bouncing up and down, feeling the largest orgasm of your life coming to fall over you. Your tongue lolls out and tears edge at your eyes. “Yes! Daddy fuck I wanna cum.”

“Then cum baby. Cum for me.”

“Ah, hah, Katsu, Katsuki! Hah, fuck fuck fuck, oh my god.”

Underneath you, Bakugo continues to fuck you through his own orgasm, muttering and growling under his breath; volume increasing the more of his seed that spurts out into you. You fall on top of him, sweat and other bodily fluids mix together as he limply holds you in his arms. Once your breath has calmed down, you slowly remove yourself from on top of him and fall again into the mattress.

“Fuck, princess. How was that?”

You turn to meet him and want to hide yourself, but what’s the point? He saw a side of you and brought out something in you you thought he would never see. “That was, goddamn, worth waiting for?”

He chuckles and kisses your forehead. “Stay here.” He commands you as he heads to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm towel and two glasses of water. He kindly helps you clean up and gives you a glass to drink. You didn’t realize how dehydrated you were until you had downed the whole glass. Bakugo laughs at you as he drinks his water and wipes himself as well.

“You know I love you, right?”

All you could do was nod as sleep was the only thing on your mind currently. However your stomach had other ideas.

“We never ate dinner did we,” you ask and chuckle at the realization.

Bakugo, still as naked as you are, brings you into his body and cuddles you close. “I was gonna make you your favorite dish but we can order takeout if you like.

“And besides, I already got a full meal.”

“Katsu!”

The diner is open

[boom-bakugou]

‘The Three Times’ — Keigo Takami (Hawks)

A/N: had this one on my mind for a while, hope it made you as sad as it made me

Pairings: Hawks x GN!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight smutty themes, mentions of blood, slight stalker Hawks

Summary: There were 3 times each when you and Hawks really thought of each other after your breakup.

Word Count: 3.4k

masterlist requests are open <3

The first time Hawks thought of you was 6 months after your relationship ended. His fingers brushed tightly through some random person’s hair as their kiss became ragged. Spurred on by alcohol and their combined sex drive. But as they stumbled up to his apartment, lips locked together as if the alcohol called for it. Something just- didn’t feel right. He couldn’t understand if it was the multiple drinks that they had but he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Yet as he lay over them on his bed, readying himself to take off their clothes. Hawks stopped himself. His eyes glazing over the person beneath his body.

“I’m really sorry I can’t do this uh-“ Hawks’ usual cocky demeanour dissipated. “I think I’m too drunk.”

But his mind was completely sober. His near fuck-buddy annoyed at the disappointment gathered their scattered items and made their way out of the apartment complex with pity money for a cab from Hawks as an apology.

Plagued by his own mind, he couldn’t think of why he couldn’t follow through with it, stripping himself to go to bed as if stripping back layers of himself to figure out his troubles. Before he pinpointed it. The person beneath him wasn’t you. Laying on his king size bed he couldn’t help but still catch the smell of you on the other side, not daring to touch it since you had both ended things.

Why couldn’t he bring himself to sleep there? Even if he awoke in the middle of the night and was the slightest bit too far over on the other side he’d always move. Why couldn’t he bring himself to sleep with someone else in your bed? No, it was his bed; no one else lived with him. Why did he still reach out only to be met with cold covers?

It wasn’t that serious. He told himself. Yes you two had fun, were intimate, became each other’s best friend but it was better to be apart. Hawks knew he was holding you back and the pressure of keeping a partner and being a pro-hero at a tumultuous time wasn’t a good plan.

He hadn’t even realised the shirt that he’d put on to wear to bed that night was one of your favourites on him. Always saying it was the comfiest to lie on. You promised that’d be the one shirt you’d never steal because you preferred it on him. Hawks couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, out loud, in his empty bedroom, looking at how your side of the bed still had traces of the way that you slept.

-

The first time you thought of him was 8 months after your relationship ended. At your agency, you watched him on the tv in your office as he was part of an interview. You didn’t even notice it was him at first, flicking through paperwork. You didn’t notice the interviewers announce his name or the cadence of his voice. It wasn’t until you heard your own name that your eyes were soon glued to the flat screen.

“So how do you feel about Y/N and their new agency? It must be nice to see your ex-sidekick flourish and make their way up and up the hero charts!” The host didn’t mean any malice from it, but you could see the shock and hurt in his eyes hidden behind his signature smile.

No one knew, no one even at his old agency knew about the two of you secretly dating. But the two of you knew about how work and relationships didn’t particularly coincide. Hawks chuckled, before he began his sentence. The inner cogs turning within him plastered on his face, his charming features that you knew so well.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m happy for the kid. Wish we kept in contact more often though.”

He did not want to talk about it. It had hurt you both for it to end it, but you were holding each other back right? You didn’t want to be a side-kick forever, and heroes dating got messy. Tabloids plastered with paparazzi photos. You didn’t want your image ruined before you’d even begun.

“You don’t keep in contact that often? But you two were so close!” The host’s voice was cheerful, trying to keep the smooth pace of the interview going as it had moments prior. Hawks was made for TV, loved by many. Seeing this talk-show was stuttering, you’d never seen him so quietly distraught on camera.

“Just hero work I guess. Keeps everyone busy!” He retorts playfully which makes the crowd laugh, and you yourself can’t help but crack a smile. He could work the camera like magic, but you couldn’t help but see the cut where his face turned into a solemn frown. He was so civil about the breakup. He couldn’t miss you now of all times right?

The TV had cut to an ad-break and you busy yourself with paperwork again. You didn’t really want to think about him, the caress of his fingers, the way his morning voice said your name in his own cadence, the breakfasts he’d make for you the times you’d stayed at his apartment.

No. No more Keigo. So you plunged yourself back into your paperwork and lost all thought of your ex-lover.

-

The second time Hawks thought of you was a year after your relationship ended. Days off never came to him easily, but craving a sense of normalcy at least for one day was allowed. Stopping by his favourite coffee shop was the easiest way to feel normal for him, order the same drink, sit in the same window seat and people watch. Except today, someone was in his seat.

Taking a chair a few spaces down from the girl at the window table, it took him a few moments to recognise her before placing two and two together.

“Hey you’re uh- Y/N’s sidekick right?” Hawks asks, the girl turns her head to him before looking at him in shock, almost spitting out her drink and spilling the other cup that she had with her.

“Uh- y-yes uhm and you’re Hawks oh god hello-.” She stuttered, he reached his hand over to let her shake it which she happily obliged.

“So, how’s it working at big pro hero Y/N’s agency?” Hawks sipped at his coffee, preparing to hear about all he’s missed out on- well, avoided. Her demeanour almost reminded him of you when you just started, a big fan of his looking to do more and be better for the better of everyone around you. She took a sip of her own drink, trying to compose herself before she formulated an answer.

“It’s a dream come true! I’ve been a big fan of Y/N ever since they were at your agency.” She smiles. My agency, he thought. Seems like eons ago.

“I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of stories from them.” Hawks chuckles, before looking he noticed her rather solemn expression. Her eyes drifting down from his to look at the coffee lip over the opening of her disposable cup.

“Not really, they don't talk much about the old agency which is upsetting- I’d really like to know what it was like!” She was so enthusiastic, so bright. Just like you when you’d become his sidekick. He hoped that he hadn’t ruined that spark when you left the agency. Taking his eyes back to the second cup, his heart sank a little before directing his attention to your sidekick; trying his best to keep his savvy cool aura around him.

“Are you two out on patrol today?” He tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible, not to seem prying. He hadn’t heard anything about you really for little over a year, why didn't you two keep in contact? It wasn’t like you agreed never to speak to one another again.

“Yeah! But we have an hour before we start so they’re meeting me here and got me to grab them their favourite before we head off.” She gestured to the other cup that sat next to her own. “They’ll only be a few minutes, do you wanna stay and talk to them?”

The tone in her voice was that of an excitable fan girl although she did her best to tone it down. Hawks’ mind raced at the thought, seeing you now; not just as he flicked over TV channels and newspaper articles on his phone. Or even how his favourite coffee place that he used to take you to was now your favourite, and you hadn’t bumped into each other here once.

“I gotta get running, I have some errands to do.” Hawks picked up his cup and went to walk off before adding. “Tell the kid… I hope they’re doing good.”

And with that he was off, sitting atop the rooftop next to the cafe, awaiting you to walk inside. He only got a brief glimpse and you didn't notice his presence but, after a few moments he saw you return outside. Hiding behind the lip of the roof so you couldn’t see behind, Hawks saw you lift your head up. Your hand shielding your eyes as you looked to the sky for him. When you had no avail you headed back inside to enjoy the rest of your break.

They wanted to see me. He mused.

-

The second time you thought of him was a year and a half after your relationship ended. The deafening sounds of plates smashing as your then boyfriend threw them about. Anger poisoning your veins.

“It’s not my fault that I get called away for work!” You seethed. Trying your best to not follow suit with him, your feet kicking away shards. You see him lift another mug, using your arms to shield your face as it shatters to the ground. It was one of your favourites, but you never remembered why.

“God you act like you’re all high and mighty that you’re a hero and that you save lives every day.” His hands bled from fractures slicing back up into his skin, collateral damage. You looked at the man you once loved, his face contorted with jealous vexation.

“I am not high and mighty! I just believe in what I do! There’s a difference between the two, dipshit!” You couldn’t even work like a hero right now with him, not being able to help but only bite back. You tried your best to make your way in between the cupboard full of the rest of your dining-ware before he smashed anything else.

“HAH you’re so full of yourself, you’re like that dumb hero you used to work for… Hawks is it?” The name caught you by surprise, like ice being pressed to the back of your neck. It was as if a ghost had left his lips. “Just as fucking arrogant and cocky as that cocksucker on tv,”

“Get out.” You mutter, your eyes surveying the mess on the floor. The pieces of broken china looked like islands among a wooden sea, a beautiful nonsensical mess.

“What?”

“You heard what I said, now get out!” Your eyes shot back up to him, filled with absolute malice. The timbre of your voice elevated as your shoes stood on pieces of the plates, cracking beneath your heavy stomp.

He hurried his way out, not another word leaving his lips. The slam of the door didn’t even make you jump. You didn’t know what to feel. Shuffling debris from beneath you with your feet, you kneel on the hardwood floor of your kitchen. Digging away at what had been lost during the fight. Some were little things like plates you found at antique stores or ones that had a chip in it after you’d opened the cupboard door to quickly. Yet one stood out to you.

In a pool of shattered red pieces was where your favourite cup had been rendered to smithereens. Taking each piece, you tried your best to regain your memory of why it meant so much to you. Until it hit. The day you got the mug was the day that Hawks had first kissed you. After a tricky situation involving a villain and a ceramics shop. He and you had been on a few dates prior to the mission, and after all was said and done the owner of the shop gave it to Hawks who then bestowed it to you, before pressing his lips to yours.

Rummaging your way through the pieces trying best not to cut yourself, you find that the bottom of the cup had been split into two, reuniting the pieces you see the faint ‘Hawks x’ painted on the bottom. It had worn away with time but you still saw it. His distinct handwriting, it always looked different when he wore his gloves which must’ve been how he’d written it then. It was a shame you’d have to get rid of it now.

-

The third time Hawks thought of you was 4 years after your relationship ended. How could he have missed it. It was all every newspaper wrote about, all every television talk show chattered on to their audiences to, every social media post upon his dashboard.

You were getting married.

Hawks balled his fists in frustration, the leather of his gloves creating a shrill noise which only fuelled his sadness. But why was he upset in the first place? He hadn’t seen you properly in the flesh for at least 4 years now, not heard you breathlessly say his name as you clung to his sheets, not heard you hum songs in his shower as you got ready for the morning, not smelt your sweet aroma that made him feel like home.

He knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it was all some crazy possessive idealisation that his mind had come up with just because it could. But his throat couldn’t help but go sour as he thought of you in another person’s arms. No one had really made him feel like everything was right, not those half excuses for a relationship he’s had over the past few years, not the one night stands nor the dates his friends tried to set him up. Nothing was as perfect as you were.

You were everything, the moon and it’s pull, the stars and their shine. And what did he do? Throw it away because he was scared and he’d convinced you that it’d be better for you too. How could he be so stupid? How could he have everything in the palm of his hand and let it slip away. He had to see you, just once. Before he could never have you again.

Taking flight in the pitch black, Hawks did his best to research where you were living now. Not in that old cozy place you once had, you were a pro-hero now, able to buy yourself way better. Settling himself on a rooftop near the new and improved apartment complex you lived in, Hawks kept an eye for any movement before he saw you in your window.

You looked as beautiful as the day he met you, clad in only some shorts and a T-shirt, you sipped out of a mug. Watching the bustling city below you. When the hot substance steamed up the window you’d wipe it off, allowing yourself to have the perfect view of the streets. The way the city lights lit you up made his heart swell, everything about you was utterly perfect. He only wished that you were drinking out of that old mug that he had given you all those years ago.

Taking him out of his trance were two strong arms wrapping around you, frightening you momentarily. You looked shocked, nearly dropping the cup. Hawks stood on the ledge of the building, flaring his wings as he prepared himself to jump into action. Yet you turned around and giggled, placing your lips upon your soon to be husband. He recognised their face and blonde hair- another hero. But it’d been years since Hawks last cared about the hero listings. He couldn’t even tell the hero’s name.

His heart sank as you placed the mug down on the window sill, wrapping your arms around your fiancé and dancing around the living room together. Hawks could hear the soft music playing in the background, the man spinning you around. Watching as your hair danced through the twirl with you, he closed his eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to run his fingers through it. Waking up to it tickling his nose, pushing it out of your face behind your ear; he missed the little things.

Opening his eyes again, he was met with the curtains shut. The final goodbye. He stood himself up properly, not worrying about being spotted before taking out his phone and searching for local shops that open earliest in the morning.

-

The third time you thought of Hawks was 4 years after your relationship ended. Your engagement ring dazzled in the fluorescent lights of your office, you couldn’t help but stare at it. It had taken so many years to find the one but you finally had it, being successful in your career and your love life. Everything was falling exactly into place. Before you could admire your finger any longer there was a knock at your door.

“Hello Y/N? These were delivered for you.” Your secretary brings a tied gift bag and leaves it on your desk, quickly scurrying out as she always had a mountain of workload to do.

You looked at the decorative paper carefully. You knew it couldn’t be anything inconspicuous as all deliveries into hero agencies had to go through rigorous testing before even being allowed into the building. You assumed it was something you might’ve ordered a while back that had finally arrived so you delicately began to peel back the tissue paper.

Beneath was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in a quaint but beautiful small vase. Amongst the sea of flowers was a card held by a stick which you plucked out to read, expecting something from your soon-to-be spouse.

It’s always gonna be you kid. - Hawks x

You swear your heartbeat stopped, retaking your seat at your desk. You reread the simplistic words on the card over and over as if they’re gospel and you can’t help but feel the pang of tears in your eyes and in the back of your throat. Placing it upon your desk you shut your eyes, you hadn’t thought about your feelings for your old boss in years. It sounds so silly, but maybe he buried feelings too. But that was long gone. You had moved on, you were happy. You were settling. Settling.

Still, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and reached beneath a couple of old files to bring out an old memory. The bottom of an old mug glued back together so you could once again read the inscription of Hawks’ name.

[diana-prince-s]

Regal AU

a little more of the Regal AU because I can’t wait to post it but it’s not done yet

--

The men continued to speak about matters Rosé had little care for. She clenched her jaw while she felt her blood begin to boil in her veins. As a woman, she was used to having some amount of choice limited; but as the future queen, she had never felt so disrespected, her agency over these things completely stripped. It was horrible enough that she’d have to marry this— this boy, but to welcome his sister into her fold without any of her own input given was absurd. She kept her circle small for a reason, and her last moments of normalcy would not be threatened by a Spanish invader, no matter how pretty or witty the Infanta seemed to be.

Not long after, her father grew tired of holding court, and the assembly broke once he stormed down the aisle from the dais. Lagoona and Jan quickly flocked to Rosé’s side, dodging wide-hipped skirts and used matches tossed to the ground after lighting tobacco pipes. They chattered at her, with her, but Rosé could not match pace with them. She wished to smoke a pipe herself and resolved to dig hers out of the false-bottom trunk in her room as soon as she retired. The Spanish prince and his delegation left the Great Hall shortly, and so began Jan and Lagoona’s gossiping about the look of him, the sound of his voice, his age. Rosé knew several identical conversations were happening around the room among the courtiers who would speak of nothing else until Rosé’s wedding day, and she became embarrassed. 

Damn her father for putting her in such a situation.

But there seemed to be one person not speaking at all, and staring at her as though lost, which Rosé could sense; and when she turned her head a few inches to the left she noticed the Infanta, ever out of place both in proximity and in style to the courtiers around her. She turned fully to look at the Infanta, and Jan and Lagoona did the same. Their shoulders set in a protective line on either side of Rosé.

“Should you not have gone with your delegation?” Jan asked.

“I apologize,” the Infanta said, “Your Royal Highness, for staring, but I am to be one of your ladies. I do not know the protocol, and since you stayed—”

Rosé cut her off a little impolitely, but she had no more patience today. “Yes, didn’t you both hear?” She turned to her ladies-in-waiting with a tight smile. “The Infanta is one of us, now.”

“Denali.”

Rosé paused whatever bitter teasing her mouth had been forming. She looked back at the Infanta, who had said that strange word — was it a curse in Spanish? Was she angry?

“I beg your pardon?” Rosé asked.

“A childhood nickname given by my brother,” the Infanta said. “If I am to be among you, I wish for you to be familiar. Call me Denali, not the Infanta, not Maria Anna.” 

She smiled sweetly despite Rosé’s teasing, and Rosé felt a little guilty. It was a feeling she was unaccustomed to and uncomfortable with, so her gaze escaped the Infanta’s — Denali’s — and she looked instead at the courtiers. Her heart beat a little faster once she saw a face she had not seen in a long time, and what better excuse to escape the disarming stare of Denali than paying one of her old friends a visit.

“Jan, Lagoona, take Denali and wait for me in the Boleyn Garden. I must reacquaint myself with the Duchess of Avalon.” She peered down at Jan and Lagoona in time to see their knowingly mischievous smiles before they steeled them once again. They reached out for Denali and each took an arm.

[samnyangie]

Since people liked rsl interview on dps, I’d like to share one of my favourite interview by him. I think it’s one of those rare interview where he wasn’t joking around that much but discuss acting quite seriously haha

So enjoy:DD

(Credit)

____________________________

1990 New York Times

Young Actor's Life Has the Makings of a Movie

by Lynn Mautner

New York Times

May 20, 1990

It would make a good movie. A 15-year-old sophomore at Ridgewood High School is playing the Artful Dodger in the musical ''Oliver'' with the school's theater group, New Players, when he is discovered by a casting agency secretary and whisked off to Broadway and the movies.

That's exactly what happened to Robert Sean Leonard, now 21, and a star of the 1989 film ''Dead Poets Society,'' which received an Oscar for best original screenplay.

''My mother took me to New Players' summer performances when I was 10,'' he said, ''and I loved the camaraderie of people, rehearsing and singing. I began spending more time there, painting signs and moving furniture, and soon became an element of the company, with small roles in 'The Miracle Worker,' 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,' 'Barnum.' ''

Starting as an understudy for three roles at the New York Public Theater (he never got on stage), Mr. Leonard amassed credits that include ''The Beach House'' with George Grizzard for the Circle Repertory Theater, television movies, ''Brighton Beach Memoirs'' and ''Breaking the Code'' on Broadway, plays at the West Bank Cafe on 42d Street and the recent ''When She Danced'' at Playwrights Horizons.

He has just completed a part as Paul Newman's and Joanne Woodward's son in the movie ''Mr. and Mrs. Bridge,'' filmed in Kansas City, to be released in August. ''I age from a 15-year-old Eagle Scout to 22, coming home from World War II with a mustache,'' Mr. Leonard said.

Mr. Leonard, who received a general equivalency diploma when he was 17, lives in New York City and attends Fordham University between performances. Soon to return from the Cannes Film Festival with his fellow actors in ''Dead Poets,'' he is next scheduled to go into rehearsal for the film ''Married to It,'' a romantic comedy.

Q. Do you remember when you decided on an acting career?

A. I never decided to pursue an acting career. It just has happened. I still think it's going to stop and I'll have to get a real job soon, but I'm afraid to question it because if I do, it will disappear.

Q. How do you think your theater experience in high school has helped you?

A. It was a great teaching experience that prepared me in a lot of ways. We did 10 shows in 10 weeks, so there was no time to think about method. It was running for the stage, hoping you'll make it in time for your entrance. In Steven Soderbergh's new book of his diaries when directing the film ''Sex, Lies and Videotape,'' he said that on a film set there should always be a chain of command, but never a chain of respect.

At New Players, those three to four years, everyone was given the same respect. You had to, because you'd be the lead one week and painting sets the next. That's a luxury that is not available in New York, unfortunately, because of the unions. You're an actor and that's it.

Q. Have you taken any acting lessons? Do you recommend them for others?

A. I've taken two classes - a video acting class to help me get from stage to film, with Marty Winkler, currently my manager, and an acting class at H. B. Studios.

Acting classes are tricky. It's like asking someone in therapy if they'd recommend going to a psychiatrist. For some people it's great; for some it's not necessary; for some it's harmful. The best way to learn acting is just to do it.

There's a danger to the classroom, because it's safe, and you can get addicted to it. The clique of people are there, and you might tend to remain with them and never go out on your own. So it can give you the safety net which can eventually strip away your courage to go out and really try. On the other hand, you can get a wonderful teacher who brings out the best in you and gives you the courage to go out and dazzle everybody.

Q. You went from high school to Off Broadway. What were your feelings and fears during your first professional performance?

A. The first time I performed in New York - in ''Sally's Gone, She Left Her Name'' - I played Michael Learned's son. I think I was too young. I wasn't even aware of reasons to be afraid. I was just there for the fun of it. Fresh out of New Players, I knew it to be fun. I've never worried about lines. In ''Brighton Beach'' I should have been tense, because it was Broadway. I was nervous, but not racked - more excited.

Q. What do you enjoy most about acting?

A. The people, and opportunities to learn, to travel, both physically and emotionally. To look at people other than myself and try to figure out what makes them tick.

Olivier said you never play a villain; you play a man considered to be a villain; that you have to justify everything he does first; you have to know that what you are doing is right and find a way to make it right - even murder.

I just played a conceited piano player in ''When She Danced,'' and I had to figure out what would make a person be conceited and make that O.K. with me. I learned where conceit comes from - from confidence and talent.

Worst thing you can do is play someone and judge him at the same time, saying: ''Here I am. I am so conceited.'' First you have to understand why you're that way so that people interpret you as conceited.

Q. Do you consider acting an escape?

A. I don't look at performing as escaping, as really becoming another person and leaving my problems for two hours, so I don't have to deal with me, because I don't become another person. I work, so that when I am working, in a way it is me at my best. I'm not leaving myself; in fact, I'm more focused on myself than ever. I don't become that person, but I fully understand him, fully explore him, as to why he does what he does and justify it.

You can't play a fool to play Bottom, who's the opposite of fool in Shakespeare's ''Midsummer Night's Dream.'' What makes people fools is that they're completely confident in what they're doing. They don't think they're fools; they think they're right on track, which makes them so funny and makes them look like fools.

Q. Who influenced you the most?

A. I have not had one person or experience that stands out that's a turning point. Every step in acting relies heavily on the one before. Everything I've learned colors everything I have known before, and suddenly changes it.

I have learned a little bit from everyone I have known, whether about acting itself, or living and working as an actor. Like a good detective novel, for every clue that is solved, two more appear. Every time I learn something, it opens two other doors. In ''Dead Poets,'' the rooftop scene, where I throw the desk set off, was improvised. Are instincts then a part of acting?

Q. Are there desirable qualities to have as an actor?

A. Concentration, perseverence, lack of inhibitions. There's no room for self-consciousness on stage. Also, there is an element in acting that is not fair. Whatever talent is, part of it can be learned and part can't. There are people that audiences like to watch or don't. In Soderbergh's book, he says that talent plus perseverance will equal luck. But I don't know what talent is; it is beyond definition.

Q. Do you learn by watching other films and plays? Your own? Other people?

A. Sometimes I watch for directing; sometimes for performing. There are lines in ''Dead Poets'' I would do differently, if given the chance. For example, Todd said: ''You talk and people listen to you, Neil. I am not like that.'' I answer, ''Don't you think you could be?'' I think I could have made it clearer. I don't get much from observing strangers, because although I see what they do, I don't know where they're coming from.

Q. What are the main differences between stage and film work?

A. I feel that as an actor, you should start in theater, to learn the process of creating a character, in rehearsal. Film is an arena for people who already know that, because on the set they expect you to know the character inside out.

Film work is harder, because this tangible part has to happen in your head before filming takes place. And it's more solitary. You create your character alone, without the give-and-take of other actors.

Q. What tips would you give young, aspiring actors?

A. Read plays aloud with friends at home; do any work you can do in high school. Hang out with jocks, leatherheads, and see what makes them work. Don't be a theater rat and only talk to actors. Read a lot. You really have to feel it; really want it; then take it. Don't take no for an answer. Seize the day.

___________________________

There’s another one I really want to share as well, I’ll bring it with me at some point:))

[bakugohoex]

chapter one ➺ auld rivals

pairing: pro hero katsuki bakugo x pro hero female reader

cw: language and angry boi

word count: 2000+

a/n: omfg sorry for positing this at midnight but hope you guys like chapter one i think it’s starting off good so far and this is defo a slow burn so don’t expect action until later on

summary: in which you and bakugo are rivals always competing against one another, you get called into the commission late at night, unbeknownst that bakugo is there you arrive expecting nothing important but instead are met face to face with the president herself

masterlist | chapter two 

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Blood dripped from the side of his face, his breathing heavy and resting on his lips was a smirk. The god damn cocky smile that you wanted to punch out of him. “Fucking hell Y/n only 10 people saved, someone’s doing shit.” You scowled how could he talk about saving people when you were the one who was making sure buildings stopped falling on him and the civilians.

All his quirk was bang bang explosions, nothing special. Yours on the other hand telepathy and psychokinesis one hundred times better than shitty Bakugo’s quirk. He would always prance around acting like a penguin with his ass on fire as if he had been the one saving people. All he did was carry them away, you on the other hand, stopping buildings and rubble fall off them with your mind. 

It was a lot harder than Bakugo thought, one wrong thought and everything would come crashing down. But what did you care? His opinion meant nothing and as long as the people were saved that’s all that really mattered. The  stars guided the darkness like a picture-perfect scene, the only torments being the blond beside you explosions in hand and the A rank villain in front of you. 

“Let me handle this.” You were going to have your glory if it was the last thing you’d do, you didn’t want the glory of praise and admiration. You wanted Katsuki Bakugo on his knees admitting that you were better than him. 

You activated your telepathy going into his head, “don’t you fucking dare.” He was unable to move and that’s all you wanted him to do, his silence and lack of movement confirmed he was obeying you before you turned to the villain, their quirk seemed to melt away things it touched. 

You ran up to it, the sweat falling down from your body. You had made a hero costume which suited you and had easy mobility allowing you to not only use your psychokinesis to trap the rubble around the villains arms but to easily run and jump onto objects to kick the villains down. Their arms became trapped as it had already begun to melt away the concrete that you latched onto it and before you could use your quirk you felt the melted away rubble hit your body. 

“Fuck.” A low whisper came as you could hear Bakugo’s thoughts, the hatred he had pent up to you but his inability to move suppressing him. Maybe it was selfish to let your own aspirations get in the way of a quick defeat, but where’s the fun in that. 

You used your quirk effectively getting inside the villain as you prevented it touching anything before grabbing the discarded metal from the destruction that had been caused prior. Metal surrounded your arms as you made it move along with your walking. Both your quirks in action before you pushed everything you had onto the villain. Their movement limited as they were trapped underneath, you heard nor saw no movement and the smirk you felt on your face rise made Bakugo’s blood boil. 

You stopped manipulating Bakugo as he ran towards you quirk raised, you could almost feel the explosions and burning sensation his pace quickening. “Bakugo don’t you dare, or I’ll get inside your head again and we both don’t want that.” 

Telepathy took a toll on you the majority of the times, hearing thoughts and emotions wasn’t something you were too fond of doing. The villain in question had transformed back into a human having previously been a sluggish type of creature, he was knocked unconsciousness, you both saw the police force come and arrest him. 

“Don’t you ever fucking do that shit again Y/n.” Bakugo raised his voice catching the attention of the police force and commission representatives. 

You crossed your arms raising an eyebrow, “I’m the one who defeated the villain.” He was furious, the rage that filled inside of him was more than he could ever imagine, and it was going towards a pipsqueak like you. 

“You got into my head and prevented me from doing my job you dumbass.” His knuckles had turned white at the clenched fist he was making. You had pissed him off and all you could give him was a shrug. 

“Shitty woman.” He could say all he wanted about you, but you didn’t care. 

You didn’t expect him to get on your knees for you, but you were doing your job, and logically you knew that if he used his quirk it would have no effect on this type of villain. You were able to suppress and defeat him and with both you and Bakugo fighting together the chances of risk increased. It wasn’t that you assumed the level of  risk would be high, you knew you had worked it out whilst preventing rubble from falling from civilians. And one of the likely outcomes that had the highest percentage was Bakugo melting away. 

You would never tell him you suppressed him to save him, you’d rather he be pissed with you then even consider that you two were more than rivals. He had left to go back to the agency, whilst you explained what happened to the police force knowing you’d be the one to have to do the paperwork. 

You signed walking back as well, it had reached pitch darkness by the time you arrived back, stripping the costume off, the long-sleeved black leotard covering most of your body, with exposed legs which were covered by thigh highs that went right up to your mid-thigh. 

Your quirk didn’t mean you necessarily needed any fancy costume but the one you wore made it easier to move especially the gloves on your hands which allowed for more materials to be controlled around your fingers. It was a benefit of some sorts; a black necklace went around your neck which allowed for a lack of nausea to occur. It was common for you to vomit up after controlling too many people back in your UA days but now it was less common, only a mild headache occurring. 

Wearing normal clothes, you grabbed your bags knowing your patrol was over and you could have a weekend of relaxation. Mina and Momo having invited the girls for a catchup, it had been months since you last saw them and to have a catchup on life events was a must. You all had been busy and as you all grew older the busier everybody got, even the boys seemed to have their own lives. You didn’t mind but working alongside Bakugo in the same agency was a pain, you never expected it once graduating together but now you and Bakugo were like auld rivals. 

You saw Bakugo at the front entrance he was on the phone as he paced back and forth. Probably one of his hook ups telling him he’s the father, you didn’t dare look into his thoughts, it was his private life and in honesty it made you uncomfortable. 

He saw you walking out, you easily passed him he was still pissed by how his voice raised even more. Someone had made him even angrier than before clearly; you didn’t bother to ask mainly due to not caring. 

A couple signs and vulgar swears came out of his mouth, you didn’t know if it was a friend, mother or even some from above but you stopped caring once you heard something from your bag. 

Your phone ringing loudly, you hated phone calls even from your own parents, the idea of talking to people wherever you were was disgusting. That didn’t mean you hated people you just liked your own space and liked hanging out with people on your own accord. You answered the unknown number you were met with someone you never expected. 

“This is Y/n Y/l/n.” They were almost unsure themselves, why call if you don’t know if you’re talking to the right person. 

“Ugh yeah.” You were hesitant not liking the weakness of not being able to hear or know the other person’s thoughts on the other side. 

You heard a sign of relief as they spoke again, “thank God, we thought you had been sent to the hospital, it’s the Hero Public Safety commission, I work under the president and we want to see you.” 

“You didn’t have to make it so dramatic” You mutter barely audible, “I’ll be there.” 

She says no more hanging up, you hated being called to the commission, they had no need to directly go to you when they could just go to someone who truly cared about the formalities, all you wanted to do was save people and piss Bakugo off, but no something always seemed to happen. 

You turned around walking back the way you came from, passing the agency, Bakugo had probably already gone home himself. Why the fuck did you have to go to the commission why couldn’t that shitty man get called in as well? 

You didn’t hate Bakugo you were just tired and hated how he could go home probably to a nice warm bed whilst you had to take detours for hells know what reasons. 

Finally arriving after your unrelieved feelings had become dull to bare, you walked inside a man already waiting for you. You followed trying to get some sort of vibe from the man, you couldn’t bare to read his thoughts knowing it’d be emotional with anxieties over work so tried to look at him seeing if he had anything to him that showed hope. 

He didn’t! He led you to the presidents office after a silent ride u the elevator, you didn’t mean to stare at the man, but you wanted to know if he had any clue of what was going on. And when you did finally get into his brain it was more worries about if his wife would let him in the house for being late. 

A bore as you had thought, the double doors enticed you to come forward, someone was already waiting in the chair as you walked in, what you hadn’t realised was a woman had been walking back out. You both crashed into each other and her papers fell everywhere, using your quirk you gathered the papers quickly preventing them for falling on the ground and getting muddled up, the papers rested back in her arms as you helped her up. 

“Sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You hummed an its okay before seeing the president. It was a shock to see her the one leading this meeting but you didnt ask just wanting to get it over and done with.

“Agh Y/n so glad you could join us, take a seat.” At the sight of your name being spoken the man quickly turned his head, and it was someone you hadn’t expected. 

Bakugo sat on the chair, angry as always. You sat beside him, his glare on your body, he watched intentively as you tried to make him stop by glaring back. 

“What’s the stupid psychic doing here?” You continued to glare but at the word psychic you got pissed, you weren’t a stupid fake psychic and it irritated you when he said it.

The president watched you both glaring it was a sight to say the least, you were on the verge of pushing his chair over and you could already sense explosions about to appear before she finally cleared her throat before speaking. 

“We didn’t call you both here to fight we have a proposition for you two.” You both gave blank looks before Bakugo spoke. 

“If you want us to do some shitty work in other fields than I’m already out.” Bakugo was ready to leave. You nodded in agreement not wanting to be involved as some promoter for a shitty energy drink to be sold to the youth. Both ready to leave on your own accords, the president finally turned away looking out through the glass windows admiring the stars and the moon which shone throughout the blues and blacks of the sky. It was a river of opportunity that you had often admired whilst on patrols. 

She spoke again but this time the next words that came out of her mouth had stopped you both in your thoughts. “What do you two know about the Paranormal Liberation Front?”

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[angstysebfan]

PR Stunt Gone Wrong - Chapter 6

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: You are a fellow actress in the MCU, Bucky’s love interest. You met Seb during the CA: WS and you guys hit it off. Chemistry on and off the set, but never dated until after Infinity War. During filming of FATWS, the pandemic caused everything to shut down. Seb offered you to spend quarantine with him, but somewhere along the lines, things go wrong and Seb makes a PR decision.

A/N: I was going to to this in a Bucky story, but then I decided to keep it Seb. With everything going on with Seb over the last several months, I came up with this story in my head. Obviously a lot of this is made up, but it is using what we know Seb has been doing over the last several months.

The beginning of May began with no issues. Occasionally you and Seb would get on each others nerves about one thing or another, but that was usually settled quickly and make up sex became one of your favorites. Throughout the week you would facetime with your family, his mom, and a collection of friends. Right now you were in a group zoom with Sebs closest friends, who have accepted you to the clan throughout the years.

You’re sitting on Seb’s lap as you look at the computer screen that showed Will, Toby, Chase, and Chris Egan. You were all catching up on what’s been happening in your areas of the country or world. You were close with all of Seb’s friends, but the closest with Chase. You both had similar personalities and always called each other your best friends. Seb would laugh it off, but you think he got slightly jealous.

After your Zoom with Seb’s friends, you were on with your friends, who you haven’t spoken in awhile. Seb was in and out of the conversation, which annoyed you slightly, because you sat with him for his friends, but you continued on as normal. When you were finally finished, you turned to look at him as he gazed out the living room window. “Seriously Seb? You couldn’t at least sit here and pretend to be interested in the people in my life?” you ask annoyed. 

He turned to look at you, “They don’t want to talk to me, so why sit there?” he asks. Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, “They would have spoken to you if you sat here next to me! You always do that when I am on with my friends, but I sit with you when you speak with yours,” you accuse. He crosses his arms, “Well my friends are more interesting, and you spend most of your time flirting with Chase that I assume you are fine,” he says. 

You stand up and clench your hands into fists, “Oh my god you jealous, jealous asshole! Are you kidding me? Chase and I are just joking! I don’t even speak to him unless you do, so there is nothing to be jealous of! Is this why you never talk to my friends, you are too busy brooding over me and Chase?” you ask exacerbated. He doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes on the floor. You sigh in frustration.

“Ya know, I can’t--” you are cut off by your phone going off. You check the caller ID and see it’s your mom, so you pick up, “Hey Ma, hold on 1 second,” you say before pulling the phone away. You look at Seb, “Next time I Zoom with my friends, you will sit there with me and be nice. You need to get over this jealousy with Chase, because there is nothing to be jealous of!” you say before you run up the stairs to talk to your mom.

--

Seb sits in the living room thinking about what you said. He knows he was being rude with your friends, but he hates how you and Chase flirt and it always puts him in a mood. He realizes you have been quiet upstairs for awhile, so you must be pissed at him still. He feels his phone vibrate and sees he has a text from his PR agent.

He texts back and forth for awhile, while also texting a friend of his a little bit. After another 1/2 hour he decides to go up and find you. He walks to the bedroom and sees you sitting on the bed crying silently. He runs up and kneels in front of you. “Baby? What’s wrong?” he asks softly. You choke on a sob before throwing your arms around his neck and cry into his neck. He rubs your back to try and calm you down, wondering what could have upset you like this.

When you seem to calm slightly he pulls you back and wipes the tears from your eyes. “Tell me what’s got you so upset. If this is about the Zoom, I’ll make sure I’m not rude next time. I promise,” he says concerned. You shake your head, “No, it’s not that. That was just a stupid argument,” you say sniffing. He continues to look at you sadly, “Then what is it baby? You’re scaring me.”

You start to sob again but manage to say, “Grandma died!” Seb’s eyes widen before pulling you into his arms and allowing you to sob. He lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bed and sits against the headboard with you on his lap. He continues to feel his phone vibrate from his text conversations, but ignores them, as you need him more than them. He keeps whispering, “I’m so sorry. It’s going to be okay. I’m here.” You finally manage to relax in his arms, and fall asleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

--

You went home to your moms for the funeral. They were only allowing 10 people, so Seb decided to stay at the apartment. While you were gone he was so bored. He continued to go for runs, write, read, watch movies, but he was missing you. His favorite time of the day was when you would call him or facetime him. He couldn’t wait for you to come back, because being alone sucked. He was busy working on new deals with his agency, and some other things in the works, but he just wanted to be with you.

After 5 days, you walked back into the apartment and Seb wrapped you up in his arms and kissed the hell out of you. “Seb... I don’t want to touch you until I shower,” you say pulling away. Seb picked you up and wrapped your legs around him and walked up the stairs, continuing to kiss you. He walked right into the bathroom and refused to put you down as he turned on the shower before walking right in with your clothes on.

“Seb! My clothes! It’s cold!” you scream wiggling to get out of his arms, but he held you tighter and continued to kiss you making you forget the clothes and water temperature, which improved. It didn’t take long to strip you both of your wet clothes, though Seb refused to put you down. It was the hottest shower sex you both had. When you finished showering you wrapped yourself in a robe and laid next to Seb, your head on his chest.

“I missed you,” he said against the top of your head before placing a kiss. You smiled, “I noticed,” you say giggling, before turning your head to look at him. He kisses your forehead and brushes some hair back smirking at you. You peck his lips, “I missed you too. I wish you were there with me,” you say as your wrap your arm around his torso and nuzzle into his chest.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

--

Chapter 5 / Chapter 7

Jealousy.. always a problem. Poor reader, but Seb somewhat made up for his stupidness with being sweet about everything. Feedback is appreciated.

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[floralguccistyles]

trigger warning: This chapter mentions sexual harassment. It does not go into detail at all, but be warned

wildflower :: chapter four

...and takes you on a date

I was halfway through a salad when Niall called me.

“Don’t eat anything, I’m taking you out to lunch,” was my only greeting. My hand, positioned halfway between my bowl and my mouth and holding my fork, paused.

“Niall, I’m halfway done with a salad,” I said through a mouthful of lettuce.

“Well, stop eating it and come out to lunch with me. I was gonna stop by that smoothie place you like and grab some for us. And maybe a doughnut too.”

I set my fork down and swallowed my mouthful before answering. “What’s the occasion? Smoothies and doughnuts are celebration foods.”

I tried to remember if there was anything we were celebrating. Our birthdays were the twelfth and thirteenth of September, respectively, and it was only teetering on the end of May. He would have told Lily and me if he was up for a promotion, so I knew it wasn’t anything related to his job. 

“I just want to see my Rosebud. Is that a crime?”

My eyes travelled to the salad I was eating. It was filled with spinach and kale and was definitely healthier for me than a smoothie and a doughnut, but it also looked limp and sad in comparison. “Alright, but only because this salad is making me sad now after the promise of Matilda’s sweets.”

He laughed, the sound sending a little thrill through me. I loved making people laugh, but making Niall laugh was better somehow. His full-bodied laugh made me feel light and happy, like by making him laugh I was doing the world a favor because it meant they got to hear it. 

“Deal. I can be at your place in ten?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.” 

Lily was working most of the day with her coworker for a big case, so I figured Niall was just lonely. He hadn’t been by this morning to drive to work with her, and I felt the absence of him just as much as I felt Lily’s absence. It was funny how Niall had weaved himself into our lives so completely that I felt the loss of him when I didn’t see him for a everyday.

I had managed to shimmy into jeans and a cardigan and fix my mess of tangled hair when I heard Niall’s key in the door. “‘M here, Rose!”

“Hi,” I managed to spit out through the rubber band in my mouth, held with my teeth. I had half my hair up in my hands to try and put in a semi-presentable messy bun. “Almost ready.”

“Matilda’s gonna be happy we’re visiting her,” he said, walking over to me and holding out his hand. With a gentle movement, he took the rubber band from between my teeth and held it for me. “You look nice.”

“I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is atrocious.” I raised a brow at him, reaching out to take the band from him so I could secure my hair. “But thank you. That’s sweet of you.” After my hair was situated, I was able to take him in fully, noticing that he was wearing the pretty blue color I always loved seeing on him. “Hey, you’re wearing the shirt I love.”

His cheeks tinged pink. “Figured I should look nice when you were going to look undoubtedly beautiful.”

“He’s got the compliments flowing today,” I joked, poking his cheek with my index finger. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

The drive to Matilda’s shop was spent listening to Niall’s favorite band at the moment (this week it was a group called Bad Suns) and absentmindedly tapping the little rose charm necklace he still had hanging in his car. He grinned at me every time my finger touched the edge of it, commenting that it was his “good luck charm.” I rolled my eyes, but there was an emotion that swelled up in my chest and threatened to burst out, like a balloon filling and filling until eventually it popped.

“Welcome in, you two! I was hoping you’d come back soon.” Matilda’s shop smelled of freshly baked maple bars when we walked in, and the old woman leaned over the counter. “Fresh. Want one?”

“We’ll take two, please. And two glaze twists.” Niall reached in his pocket to pay for their doughnuts. 

“If you’re buying the doughnuts then I’m buying the smoothies,” I said when he inserted his card into the chip reader. “I feel bad you’re always paying for my stuff.”

“Don’t be. I just got a bonus at work.”

“Look at you, Mr. Moneybags.” Feeling a little nervous to ask, I picked at a loose thread on the edge of my shirt. “How is work? After...you know.”

Something dark crossed his face, and I couldn’t help the sharp shooting of sadness that struck my spine. I wanted to reach out and grab his face in my hands until he smiled again. When Niall smiled, all was right in the world. I shoved my hands in my pockets to resist doing just that, lest I look like a fool in the middle of a doughnut shop.

“He’s off the team and has lost his scholarship to the school. They’re thinking about expulsion. The counselor at the school wants her to press charges, but you know how the security is...they’ll say she needed to report it sooner. It sucks, Rose. It makes me want to put you, Lily, and Violet in a bubble and never let you out.”

“Put some of Matilda’s doughnuts in there and I’d be set,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. The corners of his lips turned up and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close as if he never wanted to let me go. Lily had done the same when I had first told her about Kent. She had pulled me in close and had walked around with her arm in mine every time we left the house. It made reaching on the top shelf of the grocery store to get my macaroni and cheese hard, but I never complained because it was nice to be taken care of by someone I knew cared about me.

Matilda handed us our doughnuts with a big smile and a forceful “you’d better come back here!” Niall handed me one of the maple bars, the dough still warm in my fingers as we exited the shop and walked across the street to the smoothie place.

Equipped with our doughnuts and smoothies (that I paid for, thank you very much), Niall suggested we walk down the strip of road. There were two antique stores, a little locally owned florist shop, and a travel agency building. I took him into the florist shop first, since I didn’t think the antique stores would let us in with our food and drinks. “What’s your favorite flower?” I asked absentmindedly, touching the petals of a pretty mum flower.

“I’ve never really thought about it. I know your favorites aren’t roses. You used to stick out your tongue at Violet whenever she picked out some for you for your birthdays.”

I laughed. “I liked the rosebuds you got me,” I defended.

“What is the Rosebud’s favorite flower, then?”

I thought about it for a moment, taking a sip of my smoothie. “Tulips. Pink tulips. They make me smile.”

“Then I like them, too. Whatever makes you smile is my favorite flower.”

My heart gave a little flutter. What was going on? I never reacted to Niall this way, in the way I imagined Lily reacted whenever she saw him. Is this what it felt like when she saw him coming to pick her up for their daily lunches? Heart taking off in her chest, stomach dropping with anticipation? I turned to look at pretty white hyacinths to avoid looking at him. I could feel my face heating up with the knowledge that had just presented itself.

I thought Niall was handsome. He was kind and funny and always made me feel safe. And now that I thought about it for more than two seconds...the thought of him with Lily made my skin crawl, like it was something that should never happen.

“I see sunflowers!” I shouted, startling him. I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off these new thoughts swirling around in my head. Bolting towards them, I managed to put some distance between us. 

As long as I put distance between us, I could take a moment to clear my head.

Fancying Niall was, for lack of a better word, stupid. He was destined to be with Lily. He loved Lily. And Lily loved him. Even though they hadn’t realized it yet (or at least, hadn’t admitted it to themselves yet), this was a fact. It was like saying that humans needed air to live and the grass was green. It was an inevitability. The sun would rise in the morning, set in the evening, and Niall Horan and Lily Fairbrough were meant to be together.

“Rosebud? You ready to go to the antique shop?” Niall appeared by my side, and I couldn’t help it. 

I screeched.

It wasn’t loud enough to embarrass myself totally, but it was enough for Niall to grin and start laughing, bending over at the waist. I wanted to beg him to stop laughing, not because I didn’t want him to laugh at me, but because his eyes became more blue and his laugh sent a fluttery feeling through me. “Jesus, didn’t know I would scare you, Rosebud.”

“I’m fine,” I stammered out. I then noticed he had disposed of our doughnut bag (because we had eaten them in less than a minute) and was holding something in his hand. When I processed what they were, I felt lightheaded. “Did...did you get me pink tulips?”

“Sure did. I’ll hold them while we hit the antique shops, if you want. You done with your smoothie?”

Okay, so I had three options.

Option one, I could act on these weird new feelings. I could randomly just step up to him right now and ask to kiss him (because obviously, I wasn’t going to kiss him without his consent). If he said no, which he would, I would back up and tell myself that he didn’t want me. Even though I already knew he didn’t want me, I would let this new knowledge wash over me until my little crush on him shriveled up and died.

Option two, I could wait it out. These feelings obviously couldn’t last forever, right? I knew he was Lily’s. Shouldn’t the knowledge of that make my heart turn away the thought of being with Niall? Surely I just had to wait for these feelings to go away. How long could they last, really?

Option three, I could beg Lily to finally confess her feelings to him, and beg Niall to finally make a move on her. Seeing them together and so in love would make these feelings disappear in an instant. My eyes and brain would go, “see, they belong together” and tell my heart to shut the fuck up.

“Y-yeah,” I said, stumbling over my words and I handed him my smoothie cup. 

He smiled and took it, tossing it in the nearest trash can before gesturing his head towards the door. “C’mon, then, you numpty. What’re you just standing around for?”

I was helpless to him as we walked to the first antique store. I had gone shopping here when I had first moved into my apartment. I was pretty sure I had a couple of old records and a couple of accent photos that I had gotten here. Niall immediately hitched a right and went to the furniture, looking through ugly but fun velvet yellow couches and creepy looking porcelain dolls. “Let’s play a game,” he suggested.

“Please don’t say that while you’re standing next to a doll that looks creepier than Jigsaw.”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Let’s look around and pick out something for one another. Meet back here when we’re done?”

I wondered if he knew how much I loved things like this. I liked going to locally owned shops and seeing what people’s imaginations had come up with. Even if I wasn’t particularly interested in what they were selling, the business and marketing major in me could appreciate when someone was passionate about what they were selling. In fact, this was a perfect date for me.

Which, naturally, made me want to hyperventilate. I had just discovered these pesky feelings for Niall and he was already unknowingly taking me on my version of a perfect date? Still, I had a hard time saying no to Niall. I agreed to his little game and watched in amusement as he shot off to the right, headed towards the section of the antique store that sold glass figurines. I decided to start with the basement level, figuring they might have some old magazines about sports teams. However, my mind wasn’t into this like I would have been on any other day.

Even Niamh and Patrick believed Niall was going to end up with Lily.

But there was one person who hadn’t.

Making sure no one was around, I pulled out my phone. Luckily, my sister was glued to her cell and she picked up on the second ring.

“Hello? Why are you calling me?”

“Nice to hear from you too. About the Niall and Lily bet—”

“Christ, I thought you had something important to tell me.”

“This is important!” I hissed out, making a poor old woman who was browsing some records jump. I sent her an apologetic look before continuing my conversation with Violet. “Why did you bet that they weren’t gonna end up together?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know.” Shouldn’t that be answer enough?

I heard her let out an annoyed sigh on the other end of the line. “I don’t know, Rose. It’s obvious he doesn’t fancy her. They’re just...friendly.”

“But can you give me a specific example?”

She was quiet for a moment. And then she said, “Has Niall said something to you?”

“What? No.”

“Of course not. Not sure why I thought differently. Anyway, this is a pointless conversation and I’m trying to study for biology. Can you have an existential crisis later?”

“You’re a twit.”

“Whatever. Bye.” 

I was met with the dial tone and I cursed Violet, shoving my phone back into my pocket. What did she mean, asking me if Niall had told me something? Were he and Lily together? I’d like to think he would have told me if they were dating, and if he hadn’t, Lily definitely would have. And then there was that night when we were talking about the girl he liked. It described Lily perfectly. 

I halfheartedly searched through the old books and magazines until I found a cool baseball book that discussed Jackie Robinson and had a fun looking baseball card taped to the inside cover. He could put it on that empty space on his shelf in his office. I hooked it underneath my arm and meandered back to where Niall and I had agreed to meet.

He was standing there already, waiting happily with my tulips in his hand. When I made it back to his side, I couldn’t help but smile even though my heart felt like it might collapse. “You’re already done?” I asked. I had expected him to take longer than I had.

“I am. You first.”

I handed him the book. “I saw that empty spot on your shelves in your office when I was there and thought this might fit pretty well there.” 

He smiled. “Thanks, Rosebud. It’s perfect.”

His object was a golden desk nameplate, with the words “Best Manager Ever” scrawled in decorative script in dark black calligraphy. I raised an eyebrow, but took the nameplate from his hands. “Thanks, Ni.”

“You’re sweet for pretending you know what it is. They obviously didn’t have one that said marketing team member, so manager was the best I could get.”

I laughed. “Thanks, but marketing team member would have been false, too. You should have found one that said receptionist.”

“That’s actually why I brought you out for lunch today. Remember that meeting I had with that athlete? The one who wants to create an eco-friendly line of equipment and uniforms?”

“Yeah! It sounded really cool. Did it go well?”

“It went fantastically. So fantastic, in fact, that he was offered a start-up donation and needs a good marketing team to spread word about the products when they’re out. And...I maybe told him that I had an amazing friend who was aces at marketing. If you want it, you’ve got a job.” He must have seen the stunned look on my face, so he continued in a rush. “You can finally quit the hotel and do what you love again, Rose. I know you’re great at it. You would be amazing. I know it may not be the exact business you want to work with, but it’s a good alternative for now, yeah?”

I was so shocked that I barely registered the door opening behind me, the little bell above it letting out a tinkling sound. We were standing in the middle of the walkway, so I looked at the patron to apologize.

The words died in my throat.

“Rose Fairbrough.” Kent Tanner had not changed in the year since I’d seen him. In any nightmares or late-night fears, I had imagined him looking more threatening and scary. But he was still just an average looking man, with his straight brown hair and dimpled-chin. He had maybe put on a pound or two, but not enough to make much of a difference in his stature. “Nice to see you.”

My throat went dry. Niall knew Kent as the guy who had fired me from Barkley’s, so he narrowed his eyes in Kent’s direction. If he knew the whole truth, he would probably have Kent bleeding on the ground in five seconds. 

“How’ve you been?” Kent asked, leaning against a bookstand next to him. It was incredibly arrogant and entitled and screamed Kent. “Where are you working now? Barkley’s sure does miss you.”

He reached out to put his hand on my shoulder in what I’m sure was a friendly pat, but I flinched away and moved closer to Niall. I felt Niall’s welcome embrace around my waist, pulling me into his side and looking down at me to make sure I was okay. “It doesn’t matter where I’m working,” I said, wanting my words to sound fierce and powerful, but all they did was shake and stumble.

“Well, if you ever want a job at Barkley’s again, let me know. We miss you, Rose.”

I heard the implied words. If I wanted a job at Barkley’s again, his proposition was still open. It made me shudder even closer to Niall. “I’m fine, Kent. Excuse me.”

Quickly placing Niall’s nameplate for me on the bookshelf, I rushed out of the antique store. The air outside seemed to clear my mind a little, sending waves of cool to my overheated body. The wind felt nice against my arms, like Mother Nature was doing her best to tell me that she supported me. 

“Are you okay, Rose?” Niall asked in a worried voice, but I would have known he was concerned just because he hadn’t called me Rosebud. “What a dick. He’s such a pompous arse.” 

It all came crashing down when Niall reached out to rub my arm comfortingly. Still surprised and taken off guard by Kent, I winced and moved away. Niall’s eyes widened in surprise, and I knew why. I had never shrugged off a touch from Niall before. “Sorry,” I immediately said, my voice coming out rougher and more emotional than I’d wanted it to. “Sorry,” I repeated.

“That’s not a normal reaction to someone who fired you, Rose. What happened with that guy?” His voice was soft, but firm. I knew that we wouldn’t be leaving here without me telling him what truly happened with Kent. Either that, or I could continue the lie and have Niall never trust me again. And that simply wasn’t an option. Crush or not, I couldn’t deal with myself if Niall decided I wasn’t someone he could confide in.

“Can we walk and talk?” I asked gently, wanting to put as much distance between Kent and I as possible.

“‘Course, Rose. C’mon.” He was careful to not wrap his arm around me like he normally would, and it brought tears to my eyes. While I wanted his touch, I appreciated that he understood I couldn’t handle it just yet.

The farther and farther away we got from the antique store and Kent, the easier it felt to breathe. But it was hard to talk through the lump in my throat as I explained to Niall why I had really lost my job at Barkley’s. I was careful not to focus on him, but I knew his hands were curling into fists and his brow was furrowed in frustration. 

“That’s why Violet and I were arguing in the kitchen at our last movie night. She thinks I should go to her school psychiatrist.”

“I think so, too.”

“I don’t want to go to a psychiatrist,” I said helplessly, wanting Niall to see things my way. “If I go to a psychiatrist, that means I’m not...normal Rose anymore. Besides, I know it could have been a lot worse than it was.”

“That doesn’t matter, Rose!”

I had never heard Niall yell at me in frustration before. I had heard him yelling across the bar to me when he was blackout drunk, I had heard him yelling at me from down the hallway to come look at something on his laptop, but I had never heard the tone he was using with me now. I stepped back in surprise, nearly tripping over myself.

“Knowing that he did that to you...that absolute piece of shit. I don’t care if he didn’t touch you, Rose, it’s still despicable and is gonna leave insecurities and shit that you can’t physically see, but you’ll carry around with you. And I think instead of letting it fester, you should have someone clinical talk to you about it. Someone who you aren’t personal with.”

“Well, thanks for your opinion on how I should handle my own sexual harassment, but I’m going to handle it my way.” I stubbornly crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “God, you’re being just as bad as Violet. I didn’t tell you about Kent because I wanted your advice, Niall. I just needed someone to listen.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t tell you how to handle it. That’s not right of me, and I’ll apologize for it. But Rose, can’t you see that Violet, Lily, and I are trying to get you to do this because we care about you? I mean Christ, you...you don’t even know.”

“I know how much you guys care about me. I appreciate it.” Reaching forward, I squeezed his arm with my hand. “And I love you so much for it, Ni. But let me handle things my way, okay?”

“But will you? Will you handle it? Can you at least call Violet’s psychiatrist?”

Hindsight is a funny thing. If I had known how this conversation was going to go down, I might have changed things. I might have tried to de-escalate things. But suddenly I was getting annoyed with him again, and in my frustration I didn’t act the way I should have when he told me what he had.

“Jesus, Niall, stop it. Stop trying to play the hero. I’m fine.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fine, Rose. You have to sleep in the same room as someone because you’re terrified of sleeping alone. You turned into a mess when he walked into the store, and sometimes you flinch away when I pat your shoulder or Patrick tries to hug you.”

Hearing the things that were wrong with me, the things that made me a burden, hurt. Hearing them from Niall made it ten times worse. Hearing them from Niall when I had recently discovered these pesky little feelings for him made it a hundred times worse. So, I did what I always did. I pushed. “You aren’t my boyfriend, Niall. Stop acting like it.”

I wished I could take back the words as soon as they left my mouth. He looked absolutely defeated, like I had just crumbled him into a paper ball and put him through a shredder. “No, I’m not your boyfriend, Rose. I’m just someone who has been in love with you for over ten years. But I forgot. God forbid someone actually gives a shit about you.”

And then he was gone, shoving cab money into my hand to pay for my way home before he disappeared. He wasn’t walking back in the direction of his car, so I could only assume he was walking to clear his head. I found the idea as appealing as he did, but I couldn’t move.

I’m just someone who has been in love with you for over ten years.

The only thought my brain could come up with was, what?

I might have called an Uber, but I don’t remember it. My brain was on autopilot, going through the motions of getting back to Lily’s apartment. All I knew was that I had, somehow, hurt Niall so much more than I’d realized. And I’d never wanted to hurt Niall. 

“Hey,” Lily said when I walked into the apartment. She was sitting on the couch in her comfy clothes, so she had to have been home from work for at least an hour. She had a ritual. “Niall told me you were coming home. He asked me to text him that you made it home safe.” Her voice was cautious, and I wondered how much of our argument Niall had talked to her about.

“Did you know?” I asked helplessly.

For once, Lily didn’t have all the answers. Or, at least, she didn’t have the answer I wanted to hear. Her lips clamped shut and she nodded slowly. “He’s...he’s been in love with you for a long time, Rose.”

“And no one told me?” I mumbled, feeling like my entire body was going to crack open and sink into the floor.

“Rose...you push people away when they love you. Mom, Dad, Violet, even Pat and Niamh. The only one you haven’t pushed away is me, and sometimes I still feel like eventually you will. You tell me everything that happens to you, but you never tell me what you’re feeling. You only let people see the surface of you, Rose.”

It was my fault. That’s what she was saying. It was my fault that no one really knew me. I was too hard to open up, too slow to be vulnerable. 

“How about you come and we watch a movie?” Lily asked, worrying her lower lip. “You look like you need some rest.”

“I do,” I agreed halfheartedly. “But not here.”

And then I turned out of Lily’s apartment and got in my car.

I turned through the familiar winding streets, past the park, past the record store. There was a parking space right in front, like it was fate that I would be there. I put my car into park and made my way up the front steps, pushing my key into the lock.

The lights in my apartment were off, but I didn’t bother turning them on. I just made my way over to my bed, the bed I hadn’t slept in for over a year, and sunk into the mattress.

I didn’t sleep one bit.