#i spent. so much time getting this Mostly right

[willowsnook]

Let me in

Hi! Love your idea for a prompt list. Can I order: A turkey swiss on wheat bread, maybe mike’s way if you feel like it’s fitting for the sandwich?

Joe burrow x bsf!reader

Please don’t leave

—-----------------------------------------

Fall in Cincinnati was something that you loved. The trees changed colors, you could start leaving your windows open, and, of course, Bengals football. Now, you’d never claim that you were a die-hard fan, that was still reserved for your beloved Green Bay Packers, but after 5 years in the city, they were a solid 2nd favorite. Plus, being good friends with the starting quarterback meant you had to root for them. 

You met Joe at a charity event a year after you moved to Ohio. Working for a Cincinnati-specific lifestyle magazine, your recommendations and reviews had made you quite well known in the city. Your strategy was always finding small, hidden gem places, usually family-owned, to review and elevate. This fulfilled your need to make a difference and also get paid to eat food. 

While your job was so public and in the spotlight, you were pretty introverted, which surprised a lot of people. You didn’t necessarily enjoy being the center of attention, focusing more on making those around you shine. This meant that while you were appreciative of being recognized by the community, you hated going to big events; you’d much rather just be writing about them. 

So when the introverted star of Cincinnati joined you in the shadows of an event, the two of you hit it off. Knowing who you were, his PR team had noticed and pitched a content series involving Joe. You spent a whole day with him, going to places he recommended and giving instant reviews. Initially, you were worried about it being awkward because you didn’t know him well, but you both had a blast. Joe was easy to talk to, and he liked that you treated him like anyone else. 

After that, he’d invited you to hang out with his friends several times, and Ja’marr really liked you, insisting that you be added to the friend group. Since then, you’d spent the last couple of years being forced to go to every home Bengals game, but you could also easily force one of them to help you with some kind of content for work. A mutually beneficial friendship you thought. 

Midway through the week, you were back at your apartment, taking pictures of some cookies someone sent you to be considered for an upcoming article you were writing. You snapped the perfect picture just as your phone rang, and you looked over to see it was Joe calling. 

“What’s up?” You said, putting the phone on speaker. 

“I’m bored. Can I come hang?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I’m doing some work, but I’ll be done soon.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.” 

You were used to Joe calling you randomly to hang out, especially when the season was going poorly. One thing you learned in your years of friendship with him was that he didn’t like to be alone, mostly so he didn’t spiral thinking about everything. You were happy to be a friend he could lean on. 

15 minutes later, you heard your front door open and smiled as Joe wandered into the kitchen. He gave you a small squeeze from behind as you leaned over your laptop. 

“Are you doing anything with these?” He asked, and you looked over at the cookies. 

“No, I just got done. Have at it,” you replied, amused as he shoveled one into his mouth. 

“These are pretty good,” he said, swallowing. “But I’ve had better.”

“Hmm,” you thought. “What don’t you like about them?”

“Too grainy,” he said, and you agreed, unable to think of what you were feeling. 

“That’s a good point; I’m using that,” you said, typing it down in your notes. 

“Watch out, I’m going to steal your job,” he joked, and you smirked. 

“Does that mean I get yours?”

“You’d probably do a better job than me right now,” he said, and you frowned, shutting your laptop. 

“You are still a superstar, even when you lose,” you told him earnestly, getting a small smile from him. 

“I think I need you with a headset on to tell me that during the games,” he said, and you laughed. 

“Yeah yeah,” you replied, blushing. “Want to take a walk or something? I need to get out of the house.” 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of you walked down the street and ventured towards the water, chatting about upcoming events and his family coming to visit. You started to get chilly and held your arms briefly before Joe noticed. He pulled his hoodie off with one hand and handed it to you, not even stopping what he was saying. You pulled it on, inhaled the lingering cologne, and sighed. 

“Will you come to dinner with us tomorrow night?” he asked, jolting you back to reality.

“With your parents?” you asked, and he nodded. “Would that not be a little weird?”

“Why would it be weird?” 

“I don't know. I just wouldn’t want them to think we were dating or anything,” you said, confused. Joe frowned at that, but you didn’t have time to analyze it. 

“Ja’marr is coming too,” he said. “You are both my best friends, so I’d like you to meet them.” 

“Okay, if it’s important to you,” you agreed, giving in. Dinner with Joe’s parents. Huh. Sometimes you really didn’t understand why he chose you as a best friend when many people were fighting over it. If only people knew how clingy Mr. Cool was. 

—---------------------------------------------------

Ja’Marr picked you up from your place the next night and the two of you headed to dinner. 

“You look nice,” he commented, and you smiled. You and Ja’Marr had a flirty relationship, but nothing had ever come of it. One time, when you were both very drunk in the offseason, you had made out but it didn’t last long with him backing out, saying that Joe was going to kill him. You had just assumed that Joe didn’t want anyone in the friend group dating in case it got messy, which was understandable. With Ja’marr, you were mostly just attracted to him vs. wanting something more. 

“I still feel weird about this whole thing,” you admitted to him and he gave you a lazy smirk. 

“Please, they’ll love you,” he assured you. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about; I’m amazing,” you said, causing him to laugh. “I just think it’s weird and intimate. Like if my parents were in town, yeah, maybe I wouldn’t mind them meeting you guys at the game or to celebrate in a group after. But I wouldn’t invite you for a small dinner.” 

Ja’Marr gave you a look you couldn’t decipher before laughing to himself. 

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

The restaurant was a nicer one that you had been to before for work. Joe’s parents stood up as you approached the table and warmly greeted you. His mom pulled you into a tight hug, laughing about how excited she was to meet you finally. You shot Ja’Marr a look and found him trying not to laugh. You could tell Joe was embarrassed, which made the situation a little amusing. 

Sitting down beside him, he gave you an easy smile while handing you the drink menu. Joe’s dad jumped into conversation with Ja’Marr about the season while Robin asked you a ton of questions about your job and basically your whole life. You ended up loving his parents; they were the sweetest people. While you might have missed the way that Joe was looking at you the whole dinner, his parents definitely did not. 

“It was so good to meet you y/n,” Robin gushed. “I’m sure we’ll see much more of you in the future.” 

You smiled, confused, while Ja’Marr couldn’t hold back his laugh. Joe’s face turned bright red and his dad chuckled. 

—------------------------------------------------

If you had thought the season was going poorly before it was a million times worse now. It seemed like each week, your two friends were putting up superstar numbers but still losing. After watching them lose by just a point to the Ravens, you clicked the TV off and sighed. Reaching for your phone you texted him a white heart and watched him read it and not reply. He usually would, even after a loss, but this one was tough so you didn’t pay much mind to it. 

As the week went on, you started to feel Joe’s tension about the team bleed into your friendship. He wasn’t answering your calls and had replied to any text you had sent him with just one word. What had really pissed you off though, was that he was supposed to shoot a Thanksgiving promo with you about places that provided free food for those who needed it and he didn’t show. 

“I get that you’re having a tough time right now and while I can live with you being a bad friend I can’t live with you 1. making me look bad professionally and 2. disappointing people making a difference. So give me a call when you figure your shit out,” you ranted to his voicemail. 

You were supposed to fly out for the game this weekend but weren’t sure if you still should. Calling Ja’Marr, you complained about Joe being a dick and that you didn’t know what to do. He assured you that you should still come and that Joe was just hurting because of the season. The best thing you could do was be there for him, even in the shadows. 

The game started out horribly with it being 24-6 leading into halftime. But a different team came out in the third quarter, and you went crazy as the Bengals got ahead. But like the week before, no matter what Joe did, even throwing for over 350 yards, they still lost in the end. You lingered by the locker room after the game and smiled sadly as you saw Ja’Marr first. He wrapped you in a hug, and he was happy to have you there. Joe on the other hand, did not look happy to see you. 

“What are you doing here?” he said coldly, and both you and Ja’Marr flinched. His teammate gave him a weird look, but Joe was just staring at you blankly. 

“I’ve had these tickets since before the season, you know that,” you replied. 

“I didn’t want you to come,” he said and you tried to ignore the hurt you felt. “Did you not get the hint from me ignoring you all week?” 

“Oh, so is that why you stood up the charity?” You bit back. “So that I would ‘get the hint’?”

Joe didn’t say anything, clenching his jaw and Ja’Marr tried to step in. 

“I wanted her to come man,” he said and Joe snapped his head towards his friend. 

“Well just fuck her then and get over it,” he replied and your jaw dropped. Ja”Marr shoved him backward, yelling at him before security intervened. You recovered from your shock and turned around, abruptly leaving the stadium. You called an Uber to take you back to the hotel, and the massive traffic gave you a lot of time to process what had just happened. 

You could understand him being upset over the game, especially since it was so fresh in his mind. But it’s not like you went up to him; he came up to you. This man was supposed to be your best friend, and he basically just called you a whore to your face. This shit was ridiculous. 

30 minutes later, you were walking into the hotel. Ja’Marr had tried calling, but you declined. You called the airline you were flying with to see if there was any chance of flying out early, and you were lucky to snag a seat on the last flight out. You quickly packed up your stuff after changing into a comfier outfit and headed down to the lobby to check out and call a car. 

Turning to head out the door you stopped as you saw Joe walking in, his eyes trained on you. He looked miserable and he made his way towards you slowly. 

“Y/n..” he started, his eyes filling up with tears, but you stopped him from saying anything else. 

“I’m leaving,” you said emotionlessly. He tried to reach out to you, but you flinched back and pain flashed across his face. 

“I need to talk to you y/n,” he begged. “Please don’t leave.” 

“Why would I stay?” You asked softly. “Goodbye, Joe.” 

You left him standing there wondering why it felt like your own heart was breaking into two. 

—-----------------------------------------------

It had been two weeks since then, and you had successfully avoided Joe at all costs. He blew up your phone of course but you have yet to answer. Luckily he hadn’t tried coming to your apartment because he knew you well enough to know that it’d piss you off. 

You were on your way to hang out with Ja’Marr for a group movie night which he promised you that Joe would not be at. You don’t know why you even believed him; Joe’s car was parked in the front driveway and you almost reversed until you saw Ja’Marr waving his arms at you. Stepping out, you crossed your arms, waiting for him. 

“I knew you wouldn’t come if you knew he was here,” he started and you scoffed. 

“You were right.”

“I am miserable because he is y/n,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry but I will be selfish for a minute. He is being a dick at practice to everyone and isn’t throwing me good balls. He’s moody, won’t say a word to me, and won’t leave his house unless necessary. So please let him make it up to you. You two belong together.”

“He called me a whore Ja’Marr!” You exclaimed frustrated and gave you a sympathetic look. 

“I know he did, and that was terrible. I tried to fight him on your behalf,” he said, earning a small smile from you. “God I shouldn’t tell you this but he’s so in love with you it’s insane. He’s hurting and you’re hurting. Please just talk to him.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you said and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Believe what you want but get in there,” he said steering you towards the door. 

The good thing was that there were a few other people here from your friend group, so technically, you didn’t even have to talk to him. He was the first person you saw when you walked in so clearly, this was a coordinated effort between the two friends. 

Joe did look sad, and you wanted to be happy about it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself. He was dressed down in grey sweats and a black T-shirt, his hair looking like he had run his hands through it over and over. His eyes were puffy, and that made your heart clench. 

“Are we ready to start?” One of your other friends called from the living room and you started to walk towards the room but Joe gently grabbed you, pulling you closer to him and letting Ja’Marr pass. 

“Can we talk?” He mumbled quietly to you and you nodded, letting him pull you into the study. You stood with your arms crossed as you looked at him, waiting. 

“I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I was hurting so bad and I took it out on you. The one person who has always been there for me.” 

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it Joe,” you said, frustrated. “It’s not like it was just the comment; it was the week leading up to it, missing the event. I can’t be there for you when you don’t let me in.”

You had imagined how this conversation would go multiple times over the past few weeks. You expected an apology and another apology, but you did not expect Joe Burrow to start sobbing in front of you. 

He sunk against the wall and had his head in his hands while he was crying. Your shock wore off, and you knelt down in front of him, moving in between his legs. He looked up and your heart broke at his tear-stained face. 

“What is going on, Joe?” You asked softly, wiping some of his tears with your thumb. 

“I just don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “Everything is going wrong, and I don’t feel like I’m in control. I do everything I can, and it’s still not enough.” 

“Oh Joey,” you murmured, pulling his head into your shoulders. He held on to you tightly as he cried and you ran your hand through his hair gently. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m sorry I hurt you; I hated myself the second I said it.” 

“I forgive you Joe,” you told him, looking into his teary eyes. 

“I don’t deserve you; I’m not good enough for you,” he said. “I want to be enough for you.”

You cupped his face gently, making him look at you. Your own eyes started to water at the vulnerability he was showing.

"Joe, you’ve always been enough for me," you whispered. "You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me, not to anyone. I’m here for you, not for what you do or don’t achieve."

His brows furrowed, and he shook his head slightly, his hands moving to hold yours. "You don’t understand, y/n. I don’t just want to be your best friend—I want to be everything to you. And I’ve been so afraid of ruining our relationship that I pushed you away instead."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Joe..."

"I love you," he said, his voice breaking, but his gaze held steady. "I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I didn’t know how to tell you. But pushing you away hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt on the field. I can’t lose you."

For a moment, the weight of his words left you speechless. You searched his face, finding nothing but raw sincerity. Your heart ached, but in the best way, as if it were piecing itself together after being fractured.

"I love you too, Joe," you admitted to him and yourself, a soft smile breaking through the tears on your face. "But you have to let me in. No more shutting me out, no matter how hard things get. We figure it out together, okay?"

His hands tightened around yours, and he nodded, relief washing over his features. "Together. I promise."

You leaned forward, gently kissing his forehead before resting your own against it. The two of you walked out of the study and into the living room, where everyone else was already engrossed in the movie. Ja’Marr looked between the two of you and at your connected hands and gave you a wide smirk. Joe moved to the big armchair and pulled you down with him, and you snuggled into his lap. His arms wrapped around you, and you finally felt content. 

[kimmie2me]

HEYYY I LUV UR POSTS LIKE HELLO?!?! also im sure u know abt the bakugo hc with him with him having hearing aids and is it ok of u make like a fic with him signing nasty stuff to reader cuz he can and nobody around them fully learned sign language yet? PLS AND THANK U!!! 💕💕💕

first of all, THANK YOU!! ILYSM!! second, i am BACK!!!! exams went well, i guess. i didnt PASS or FAIL, but whatever.. third, I LOVE THIS IDEA HAHAHHA!!! here is, what I think, a great welcoming back gift to give u all ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ (ignore that Kaminari's text is blue..there's no yellow. ALSO, mina is NAWT taking pink. thats OUR color now.)

Of Silence and Secrets

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Pro Hero!Bakugou x AFAB!Pro Hero!Reader

…..

Bakugou Katsuki hated his hearing aids.

Hated how they fit, hated how they felt, and most of all, hated what they represented. Weakness. A crack in the armor he’d spent his entire life forging. When the ringing in his ears started as a brat in middle school, he didn’t think much of it. Just the fallout from a quirk-boosted explosion, nothing he couldn’t handle.

Years passed. The ringing grew into dull hums, muffled voices, and missed sounds. A villain’s retreating taunt he couldn’t catch. The screech of a car he didn’t hear. Kirishima shouting his name three times before Bakugou finally turned around, snarling, “What the hell do you want!?” while Kirishima just looked… worried.

His hearing aids were a damn nuisance. At least, that’s what he told himself every single day.

They whined if someone got too close, buzzed when he adjusted them wrong, and gods forbid he so much as grazed them during a fight—one hard knock, and they’d go flying. He could hear again, sure, but better hearing came at a price: realizing just how insufferably loud the world actually was. Katsuki had spent months in denial, refusing to accept that his ears, like the rest of his high-octane life, couldn’t keep up with him.

The ringing had started in his late teens, growing louder until it followed him everywhere. He blamed it on the explosions, the debris, the constant yelling—but really, he knew. His mom did too, though she’d spared him the lecture until the day Kirishima cornered him in his agency office with a sheepish grin and her voice on speakerphone.

“Katsuki.” The way she said his name—sharp, biting, and so unlike her usual bark of “Oi, you brat!”—made his stomach drop. “What if somethin’ happens? What if you miss an evac order or—hell—a cry for help? Hah? What then?”

“… Tch.” He had scowled so hard it hurt. “Fine. I’ll get the damn things.”

The intervention was humiliating, but the worst part? She was right. He hated that more than anything.

That was the first night he slept with the hearing aids sitting on the nightstand. He’d finally picked them up after a year of constant badgering—from his mom, Kirishima, hell, even that damn Deku. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear better—it was the admission that killed him.

But now? Now the stupid things were glued to him. Mostly.

The tech was incredible, of course. Damn nerds at Hero Support had outdone themselves. The hearing aids didn’t just amplify sound; they filtered it, isolating voices during chaos and syncing with comm units. They were waterproof, explosion-proof—Bakugou-proof. Allegedly.

But they weren’t indestructible. He’d broken five pairs in six months. Kaminari had nicknamed him “Break-aid” after the third replacement. Bakugou threatened to shove them where the sun didn’t shine.

And yet… they worked. Too well.

He could hear the scratch of pens during hero conferences, the obnoxious tapping of Kaminari’s foot against the table, the quiet sigh of his own breath. The worst part? The incessant talking. It was everywhere. Fans, reporters, civilians—people who thought their every word needed an audience.

Thankfully, he’d discovered the mute button.

The first time he used it, Kaminari was midway through a rant about his latest gadget. Bakugou, in a rare moment of self-control, didn’t yell. He just flicked the switch, leaned back in his chair, and smirked as Kaminari kept babbling. No explosions, no shouting, just blissful silence.

But there were downsides.

Combat was a nightmare when they broke. Shouting “HUH!?” every five seconds wasn’t exactly strategic. That’s when he decided to learn sign language. Not because anyone suggested it—hell no. But because he’d be damned if he relied on a gadget to do his job.

The process was… frustrating. Hands clumsy, movements stiff. Kirishima tried to help, but his signs were barely legible. Kaminari? Useless. Sero was too busy laughing to be much better or resorted to typing in the Notes app on his phone when it was pretty serious. Deku? That nerd had picked it up in a week, naturally.

But you? You made it bearable.

“Like this,” you’d said, your fingers forming a perfect sign. “Thumb tucked in.”

Bakugou grumbled, but copied you.

“Good. See? That wasn’t so bad, was it, ’Suki?”

Your patience annoyed him almost as much as it calmed him. And somehow, over weeks of practice, his stiff movements turned fluid. He’d never admit it, but he liked having this… language, this connection, with you.

And then he realized something else.

You understood him. Not just the signs, but him. The sharpness he couldn’t quite soften, the quiet gratitude he couldn’t voice. And better yet? No one else around him could understand a damn thing he was saying.

It started innocently enough—well, innocent by his standards.

“Bored out of my goddamn mind,” he’d signed at you during a hero conference.

You’d smirked and replied, “Same.”

But then, Bakugou being Bakugou, had an epiphany: he could sign anything.

The first time he tried it, you were sitting across from him at a formal hero banquet. The room was filled with pro heroes, reporters, and politicians. Everyone was dressed to the nines, sipping champagne and pretending the world wasn’t on fire outside.

Bakugou caught your eye and, with the most deadpan expression, signed: Wanna fuck?

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly knocked your glass over. You choked, coughing into your hand, and when someone asked if you were okay, you waved them off, avoiding his gaze.

He smirked, sipping his water like he hadn’t just propositioned you in a room full of Japan’s elite.

…..

It got worse.

During a meeting with the Hero Public Safety Commission, while a bureaucrat droned on about policy changes, Bakugou’s hands moved under the table. He made sure you were looking before signing: I’d rather have you ride me than sit here with these extras.

You froze mid-note, the pen slipping from your fingers. Your face burned as you ducked your head, pretending to scribble something in your notebook. Across the room, Kirishima noticed your sudden movement.

“Hey, you good?” he whispered.

“Fine!” you squeaked, glaring at Bakugou.

He tilted his head, feigning confusion, then casually leaned back in his chair. He looked so smug you wanted to scream.

At a press conference, surrounded by the press corps, TV cameras, and the elite of the hero world, Bakugou stood stiffly at the podium, bored out of his skull. Beside him, you shuffled the note cards you’d prepared, doing your best to stay focused on Midoriya’s answer to a question about villain reform strategies.

Bakugou glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking at how focused you looked. That only made the idea pop into his head faster. He adjusted his stance, one hand casually coming up to rub his neck as the other signed with precision:

I’d fuck you so hard over this podium, the microphones would short out.

Your brain stalled like a computer blue-screening. The cards slipped from your hands, scattering onto the stage floor. You froze in horror as a sea of reporters looked up from their notebooks.

Midoriya, ever the anxious public speaker, stopped mid-sentence. “Uh, are you okay?” he asked.

“Y-yeah! Just... clumsy!” you stammered, dropping to your knees to collect the cards. You didn’t dare look at Bakugou, whose hand came up to his mouth as though stifling a yawn—but you knew he was hiding a smirk.

To make things worse, while you scrambled on the floor, he signed again, deliberately slower so you couldn’t miss it:

Would’ve pulled your hair too, just to hear you scream.

Your face burned so hot you were sure you’d melt through the stage.

It didn’t stop there.

At the next agency-wide meeting, Bakugou sat across from you in the conference room, arms crossed as a pro-hero you couldn't bother to listen to went on and on about new combat protocols. The room was packed with pro heroes, all seated shoulder-to-shoulder.

Bakugou, who’d already tuned out after the first ten minutes, caught your gaze and raised an eyebrow. Before you could react, his hands moved subtly under the table:

I’d eat you out on this table, right in front of everyone, and make sure you couldn’t stay quiet.

The coffee cup in your hand slipped, splashing onto your notes. You cursed under your breath, grabbing napkins to clean the mess.

Kirishima, sitting beside you, leaned over. “Whoa, you okay? You’ve been jumpy lately.”

You forced a smile, not daring to look at Bakugou, whose expression remained infuriatingly neutral. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

It became a game to him.

While Kirishima nodded and went back to his notes, Bakugou adjusted in his chair and signed again:

Bet you’d cry if I used my mouth the way I’m thinking. Probably beg me to stop—but you wouldn’t really mean it.

You slammed your pen down so hard it startled Kaminari, who glanced over with a confused look.

“You good?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, refusing to look up.

Across the table, Bakugou leaned back, feigning boredom, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

It escalated during a casual outing with the crew.

Everyone had gathered at a bustling ramen joint after a long patrol, crowding into a booth that was way too small for so many people. Bakugou sat to your right, thigh pressed against yours under the table. As the conversation flowed around him, he picked up a pair of chopsticks and casually started eating.

Then, as Mina told a story about her latest villain takedown, he turned his head slightly toward you and signed with one hand:

The things I’d do to you under this table would make you scream so loud they’d kick us out.

You froze, chopsticks hovering mid-air. He didn’t even blink, slurping his noodles like he hadn’t just dropped a verbal nuke into your lap.

“What’s wrong?” Mina asked, noticing your deer-in-headlights expression.

“Uh… spicy broth,” you choked out, grabbing your water and gulping it down.

Bakugou, still chewing, glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and added another one for good measure:

Bet I could make you cum without anyone noticing. Wanna test that theory?

You almost choked on your drink, coughing so hard Kirishima patted your back in concern.

At a charity event, he raised the bar again.

The ballroom was filled with reporters, politicians, and wealthy donors, all eager to mingle with Japan’s most famous heroes. Bakugou hated these events with a burning passion, but at least you were there to make it tolerable.

You stood beside him, chatting politely with a group of businessmen, when you felt his gaze on you. Slowly, you turned your head, already dreading what was coming.

He didn’t disappoint. With the straightest face you’d ever seen, he signed:

You’d look so much better on your knees, with my cock down your throat, than in that dress.

Your hand shot out, nearly spilling your champagne as you fumbled to keep your composure. The Pro Hero you were speaking to paused mid-sentence, giving you a concerned look.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“I—I’m fine,” you stuttered, setting the glass down before you could break it.

Bakugou tilted his head innocently, signing again:

Bet you’d love it if I bent you over that balcony upstairs. Bet you’d be dripping by the time I was done.

Your jaw dropped, and you 'accidentally' kicked his shin under the table. He didn’t even flinch.

It wasn’t just formal settings, either. Bakugou would strike anywhere.

During a team training session, you were sparring with Kaminari while Bakugou watched from the sidelines. When you finally landed a clean hit, knocking Kaminari flat on his ass, Bakugou clapped slowly, catching your attention.

Wanna know what else you could knock flat? Me. On my back. With you riding me till I forget my own goddamn name.

Your sparring stance faltered, and Kaminari took the opportunity to trip you.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, offering a hand to help you up.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, shooting a glare at Bakugou, who was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

The worst of all came during a live broadcast.

The Hero Public Safety Commission had organized a televised Q&A with Japan’s top heroes. You sat between Bakugou and Midoriya, fielding questions from both the moderator and the live audience. Bakugou had been unusually quiet for most of the event, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded.

But then, while the moderator addressed Midoriya, Bakugou caught your attention.

His hands moved lazily, almost imperceptibly, as he signed:

After this, I’m gonna pin you to the wall in the dressing room and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of here straight.

Your eyes widened, and you immediately looked away, heart hammering in your chest.

“And what about you?” the moderator asked, pulling your attention back to the present.

“I—I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?” you stammered, cheeks flaming.

Beside you, Bakugou leaned back in his chair, smirking as the moderator repeated the question. His hands shifted again, just enough for you to catch his next message:

If you blush any harder, they’re gonna think you’re into this.

You resisted the urge to scream.

Because, for Bakugou, nothing was funnier than watching you squirm. And knowing you were the only one who could decode his filthy little secrets? That was just the icing on the cake.

…..

Over time, the signing became a secret game. A language only the two of you shared, even if it was insanely one sided. In battle, it was strategic—efficient, silent communication when words couldn’t cut through the noise. Off the field? It was something else entirely.

After a particularly grueling patrol, Bakugou flopped onto the couch beside you, tugging his hearing aids out and tossing them onto the table.

“Another shitty day,” he muttered.

You hummed in agreement, leaning against him.

Without thinking, he signed: You’re the only thing that doesn’t piss me off.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothin’, Cupcake. Just watch the TV..”

And for once, you didn’t press.

Because sometimes, silence said enough.

[lycandrophile]

if you feel comfortable sharing, how do you identify now?

mostly, i just call myself a trans man now. i really haven’t spent too much time trying to find a word to replace transmasc in my vocabulary.

i haven’t really fully disidentified with transmasc either. when people talk about transmascs as a collective, i still consider myself part of the group they’re talking about. i still describe the process i’m going through as a transmasculine transition. and transmasculinity as a concept, as something lived and embodied, is still really important to me and my understanding of my gender. it’s less that i feel no connection to the word “transmasc” and more that just saying “i am transmasc” doesn’t really accurately describe the way i relate to the word anymore.

it’s partly because i just…don’t consider myself to be all that masculine. i’ve never been particularly feminine either, but even femininity is something i can at least put on for a little while; masculinity is a complete mystery to me in a lot of ways. i don’t know how to do it. and i’m not just talking about cisheteronormative masculinity either — i have so much admiration (and often envy) for the butches and bears and drag kings and other people who embody queer masculinity, but that doesn’t come naturally to me either. so it feels weird to identify myself using a word that puts so much emphasis on masculinity when i don’t see myself that way and i doubt anyone who knows me would either. i’ve played around with using transandrogynous instead for that reason, and i think that’s probably the most accurate alternative.

but i still mostly just find myself not really caring about defining myself on the basis of masculinity, femininity, androgyny, or any of those concepts because none of them are as important to me as the fact that i’m a man. whether my presentation would be best described as masculine, feminine, or androgynous can and does change from day to day, month to month, year to year. but regardless of which way i present myself, i’m always a man. that’s always what i want people to know about me. the underlying assumption of my manhood is what makes me comfortable exploring femininity and androgyny at all. so if i have to define myself, why not just say i’m a trans man?

it’s also partly because the way people define the word transmasc has shifted in the years since i first came out and started describing myself that way. when i first learned it, it was pretty much universally understood as an umbrella term that included (but also extended beyond) trans men. so when i started identifying as a man, transmasc remained a broader but still accurate identity. but now, i see more and more people defining trans men and transmascs as two distinct groups, and while there is still a general understanding that trans men can be and often are transmasc, there are also a lot more people who assume that if you describe yourself as one, you must implicitly be excluding yourself from the other. and because my identity as a man is so important to me, i’m not comfortable with saying “i’m transmasc” if people might assume me saying that means I’m not also a man.

and i think it’s partly because transmasc is a label i leaned on a lot when i was at a point where part of me recognized that i was a man, but i resisted calling myself a man because of all the baggage that came along with that. it was a compromise — a way to get “close enough” to what i actually felt, to get people to use the right words for me and get the right idea about me, without having to say “i am a man”. because back then, manhood was something inherently worse in my mind and the minds of the people i surrounded myself with than the nonbinary identity i’d been claiming until that point. but now, i don’t feel that way at all. i love manhood and men and being a man! so for me, letting go of transmasc as a label and giving myself permission to just say i’m a man has been an important part of accepting the fact that i am a man and learning that being a man isn’t a “bad” way to be trans.

basically, my identity hasn’t really changed at all, i just realized that saying “i’m transmasc” is a less accurate way of describing my gender than just saying “i’m a trans man”.

now, that’s not to say i don’t have other ways of describing my identity or that my understanding of my identity hasn’t changed a lot recently, but that’s a whole other can of worms and god knows this answer is long enough already. suffice to say, my gender is much more complicated than 100% Binary Man, Same Gender As A Cis Man, but i don’t worry about explaining that to every person i come across. if someone is so unfamiliar with me that they have to ask me to define my gender in the first place, then as far as they’re concerned, i’m just some fucking guy.

[bleue-flora]

Ya know… I just realized, what if this book titled Dream that says “dear technoblade” is actually that letter Quackity forces Dream to write in prison. Like hear me out, that torture scene ends after Quackity says “Dear Technoblade.” [clip]. Maybe that’s as far as he got? (lore wise or maybe just recording wise, like how Dream’s diary that just says “Techno admitted have a house” and “Steve is your polar bear” and nothing else) Techno never does receive this supposed letter as @elmhat pointed out [post] and I always did think it was weird that Dream would give him a book with his own name on it… so maybe Dream didn’t finish that letter after all. Maybe he refused and we didn’t see it because things got too gory like how the first visit torture scene cuts to Quackity covered in blood [clip]. Maybe in prison Dream gives Techno this unfinished letter as a show of - see I didn’t betray you or something. I don’t know, all kinda wild speculation but fun to think about anyways… the missing letter has always bothered me to be honest.

On another note (ha ha literally XD), I should also mention that after getting access to Techno’s inventory and ender chest, I did discovery what is in the other books (again no idea if anyone else has posted about this) and it is equally as profound lol.

In the one titled Secret it says “do not read this book”, the one titled Quackity says “quackity” and the one title Sam says “sam”. I know riveting stuff. ;D

Though to be fair, the lower case names are kinda funny to me. Like from a lore perspective, can you imagine if some guy you spent months in prison with was just like - Here, protect these books. This is all the info I have. Don’t share them with anyone - and it just says “sam” and you try not to offend him but like man’s clearly lost it.

Or maybe, we could reason that Dream’s hands are so fucked up he can’t write much anymore so he couldn’t write a legible version of the letter so thats why Techno never received one and that’s why all these books are mostly empty. Maybe all he manages to write is just “dear technoblade” and “quackity”. And Techno after watching him painstaking write it is like - Hey man, why don’t you just tell me orally and I’ll remember - because it physically pains him to watch him struggle. Perhaps as some have suggested, it’s why the signs on his wall don’t make much sense [post], because his handwriting is really just that bad. Perhaps if he takes his time he can write a little so Quackity and Purpled are spelled right and readable (or maybe Punz wrote it for him :0)…

Oh and on a rivals duo note, (not sure if anyone has talked about this yet either but) I found a couple of those books Dream gave to Techno in prison in a hidden chest in his house. One has the title information and that one just has the coords for their meeting place where the blueprints were buried, but the one labeled Dream just says this

and that’s it… I know, very exciting lol… though to be fair they told us the books were blank because they were going to fill them in later, but technically they lied lol. ;)

[chuusheartattck]

HAUNTED

Chapter 5: Purely platonic

You barely got finished getting ready when you heard a knock at your door. You opened it to see Xiao standing in the hallway. He looked nicely put together and you can smell a faint scent of his signature cologne. It wasn’t anything too overpowering and it smelled nice.

At least it wasn’t the Dior Sauvage that Heizou always wears.

“See? You got ready in time,” Xiao commented in an amused tone.

You shut the door behind you, “Yeah whatever. Where is this place anyways?”

“It’s down the street. We can walk there,” He stated as you both began walking down the hall.

It was a silent walk to the elevator and the ride down. Every time you were with Xiao, there was always a lingering silence. It wasn’t anything awkward but rather comforting. He wasn’t one with many words and you were okay with that.

As you both made your ways outdoors, you winced at the bright sunlight. You do go outside but you spent most of last night silently crying in your bed. The sun didn’t do any good for your puffy eyes.

“I’m pretty sure it’s this way,” Xiao pointed straight ahead of you guys.

He began to cross the street and you followed after him.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You looked at him strangely.

“Yes.”

“Right. Well have you been to this place before?”

“No but I heard some girls talk about it in my class.”

The two of you looked at each other and stifled a laugh.

“If the place doesn’t exist then what?” You questioned.

“It does because we’re already here.”

You looked up and saw an ice cream parlor in front of you. You were surprised you haven’t noticed it earlier. Considering it’s right in front of the university.

“Did you know it was an ice cream shop?” You glanced over at Xiao.

“Yup,” He muttered as he opened the door for you. He didn’t sound too convincing.

From the moment you two entered, you were hit with the sweet scents. It was occupied by mostly students so you didn’t feel out of place. The soft music playing made it feel cozy. You and Xiao stood in line and looked at all the ice cream on display.

The two of you ordered and paid. You then found a small corner where you two could sit.

Once you sat down, Xiao began to talk, “How are your classes?”

“They’re alright. Psychology is a cool subject and Professor Lisa is a good teacher,” You took a bite of your ice cream. “What about you?”

“Classes are fine but I don’t think I’ll do much with a computer science degree,” Xiao lightly chuckled. “My classmates are a bit weird. I never thought I’d see a guy pull up to class with an anime girl body pillow.”

You almost choked, “I’m sorry what?”

Xiao nodded and leaned back in his seat, “He kinda smells bad too.”

“Yeah I wonder why,” You giggled.

Xiao smiled softly at you. Despite being in the same friend group, the two of you never hung out one on one like this. You mostly stuck by your close friends in the group and he stuck by his.

You also never realized how good looking he is. You didn’t think he was ugly but you never appreciated his good looks. His parents definitely high five every time they see him.

It’s a pity you two are in the same friend group. You think it’d ruin the dynamic if you and Xiao became a thing.

“Y/n are you okay?” Xiao waved his hand in front of your face.

However, it’s not a bad thing to secretly admire him.

“Huh?” You snapped out of your thoughts.

“You’ve been zoning out a lot lately. Are you sure everything is fine?” He looked at you with concern in his eyes.

Of course he’s concerned. He is your friend after all.

So why do you feel flustered?

“I guess I still feel guilty about everything but you already know that,” You waved off his concerns. “Why did you choose computer science anyways? I always thought you’d choose economics like Hu Tao.” You tried changing the subject.

Xiao shrugged before responding, “Because Professor Zhongli teaches the class.”

“You don’t like him?”

“It’s not that. He’s a family friend. It’d feel weird to be in his class because he knew me since I was a kid.”

“Oh I get it! You got accepted through nepotism!” You replied, stifling a laugh.

“Shouldn’t Scara and Navia be considered nepo babies as well?” Xiao deadpanned.

“Oh yeah Scara’s mom and her wife did go here. Huh. I wonder if they’ve experienced anything-”

Xiao shoved a spoonful of his ice cream into your mouth before you could finish your sentence, “Don’t worry about that for now.” He quietly muttered.

.

The two of you were talking for a couple of hours. It seemed like it was only you guys in the room. It wasn’t until you heard commotion that caused you to lose to focus.

“I can’t believe you would do this!” A voice screamed in the corner.

You and Xiao turned to see an angry lady yelling at a man and another woman.

“Babe it’s not what it looks like!” Explained the man.

“Oh really? You said you were going to work but here you are with her!”

The shop went quiet and you could hear people gasping. You and Xiao gave each other glances as the scene unfolded.

“What a cheater,” You whispered to Xiao.

“I knew you two were fucking! I saw the texts! I can’t believe you would throw away our marriage to go have a fling with MY SISTER!” The lady made sure to emphasize the sister part.

“Hold on. Sister?” Your jaw dropped.

The poor workers tried to intervene but had no luck.

“Wait-” The man got cut off by his wife punching him in the face.

You almost let out a laugh. You silently gave her praise for beating her cheating husband.

“What the fuck is happening?” Xiao whispered to you.

Before you could even respond, the lady’s sister tried pushing her. This led to the woman slapping the absolute shit out of her. Which in turn, started an all out brawl between the two sisters. The husband was silently watching.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” The entire ice cream shop was now recording and cheering on.

You and Xiao were too stunned to speak. Hair was being pulled and punches were being thrown. It was more exciting than the Jake Paul and Mike Tyson fight.

However, you weren’t trying to be caught in the middle. Therefore, you both silently left and laughed about it while walking back to campus.

As you were walking, he made sure he was on the side where the road was. You weren’t sure if he knew about the sidewalk rule but the tiny detail didn’t go unnoticed.

Eventually when the two of you got back to your dorm.

“I’m sure Lumine is already back,” You began to speak. “But thank you for trying to make me feel better. I had fun today.” You smiled to him.

Xiao faintly smiled back, “Just call me or anyone in the group if you need anything. You’re a good friend to us.”

Ouch.

“How desperate can I be? I can’t be pining over a friend like this,” You thought to yourself.

Xiao gave you a farewell side hug. You went inside and immediately threw yourself onto your bed.

“Um hello?” Lumine was sitting on her bed reading a book. “I heard you talking with someone outside.” She gave you a puzzling look.

You turned over to your side to face her, “I was hanging out with Xiao today. He wanted to comfort me I guess.”

Lumine raised her eyebrow, “Just the two of you?”

You nodded.

“How was it?” She asked, not looking up from her book.

“It was pretty chill. We just ate ice cream and talked for hours. I think it’s the most I ever talked to him.”

“He is pretty quiet I guess. He’s close with my brother and Kazuha anyways.”

“I wish I gotten to know him sooner. He’s not a bad person.”

“It’s good to hang out with your friends.”

There was a slight pause, “What if it could be more than friends?”

That statement caused Lumine to close her book and fully pay attention, “Y/n. Please don’t tell me-”

You cut her off, “Listen! Hear me out-”

“You have a crush on Xiao?!” Lumine fully interrupted you.

You tried shushing her, afraid he might still be lingering outside.

“I don’t have a crush on him!” You began to explain. “I just think he’s attractive that’s all. He has always been a friend but we only hung out in group settings. This time it was different and we talked for a while.”

Lumine sighed, “At least he’s a good guy. If you want I can have Aether help you.”

“No!” You blurted out. “I’m sure Aether could be a good wingman but I don’t want anyone else finding out about this. It’s only a small attraction nothing too crazy.” You tried reassuring her.

“You’re hopeless,” Lumine rolled her eyes and started reading again.

You were now staring at the ceiling. Silently contemplating what you should do. Your thoughts began to drift, wondering if Xiao would ever think of you being more than friends.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: What’s your fav ice cream flavor? Mine’s mint chocolate. Also mb if you’re lactose intolerant for the sake of the story lets just say you don’t shit when you have dairy. Also i went to the sabrina carpenter concert and it felt like a full circle moment for me listening to espresso live 😭

Synopsis: Friends start their first year at Teyvat University. The school that is known for its paranormal activity. The group doesn’t truly believe the rumors until they start to experience how frightening the school can be. What happens when the friend group investigates the truth of the hauntings?

Taglist: @morgyyyyyyy @state-of-grac3 @trulyylee @jellichuu @practicoi @yuminako @eyshamuun @kuniz-darlingg @heartsforni-ki @lalalaloveallmydays @animeobsessed56 @samyayaya @lloovvv @adepticiaoo @cherrysnows @miisamores @strayharmony943 @xionri @kazumiku @bethleeham @sukisprettyface @jayzioxx @kaikaidenkai @js-a-silly-little-guy @jiminscarmex @i-am-me-and-you @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @brideofbriar @floweringanna @miy-svz @vitanye

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

a merry Between Week to everyone! rest well!

extra layers:

[sysig]

Heck yeah, Requestober!! Thanks for doing this again, it's always so much fun! I've got two TPoH ideas to choose from if that's alright, whichever you're more in the mood for. Either Dial annoying RGB, as he does, or Dial and Click being an awful chaos duo? Either would be great!

Day 17 - Boundaries, Dial

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Interesting. Don’t necessarily think I’m autistic but I have more going on than just ADHD and I’m not sure what that is.

[archie-sunshine]

So i think i would honestly gut the writing for both of them, star and megs in cbv are CUTOUTS to me.

im focusing on megs because his is worse BUT anyways

I would more solidly establish his character from before the war in the flashback episodes BEYOND just having him be a pit fighter and optimus' friend, his reasoning for rising up, his bonds and ideals beyond the 'well hes megatron so we can ASSUME its equality/retribution against the upper class'

Then, i would take the burning endless fury they injected into megatron, and dial it back JUST a little. I enjoy angry megs as much as the next guy, but i don't love when megatron is more bloodthirsty than he is calculating. He can be brutal, and cruel, but CBV's megatron is vitriolic in his hatred towards starscream in such a way that it makes me question why he kept him around in the first place.

On that note, then I think i would establish how megatron and starscream met, where their relationship started, and in what ways starscream COMPLIMENTS megatron to give a good reason why megatron has typically in the past let his betrayal slide. Most megatrons keep their starscreams for one of two reasons:

Option A(currently on display in CBV): megatron tolerates starscream because megatron believes starscream has a skill or purpose that makes him useful.

This is most often the case. currently, in the show this is likely just that the seekers listen to him. bad motivation, relationships need to be born of more convenience than that, especially since if megatron is charismatic enough to raise an army, he may be able to give starscream a run for his money on earning the seekers' favour. (i havent watched the show in like almost a year, sorry if im wrong)

Option B: Megatron tolerates starscream for an emotional purpose

now we can get juicy here. It is inherently irrational for any GOOD megatron starscream pair to ONLY subsist off of usefulness. If i was writing CBV's starscream and megatron(or just about any starscream and megatron) with a relationship in mind i would dig into their connection to one another, and try to examine where the beginning of their relationship might have had more affection in it.

IDEALLY, i would incorporate a mixture of the two, coming around to how i would portray the two in my hypothetical rewrite

Megatron and starscream meet during one of megatron's first public speeches, before he had any following beyond his group of likeminded friends, and spent most of the time heckling him. afterwards, their rivalry got smoothed over by starscream offering to help him practice his speeches.

As their movement progresses, starscream is the one most often encouraging demonstrations to turn violent, and megatron, noting that that's what gets him the most press and attention and new recruits, turns his strategy towards starscream's approach(he always was a man of action (gladiator backstory)). This puts a wedge between megatron and optimus.

skipping forwards to the era in which the main story takes place, megatron and starscream are still a little more at odds with each other, but it's got more of a petty and mean tone to it than an outwardly violent one. Megatron thinks starscream has gotten more reckless as the war has gone on, starscream thinks megatron is holding him back and sitting in his rightful place. They keep each other around out of usefulness to everyone else, but to each other, its mostly out of spite.

their entire relationship would be founded on a contest to see who REALLY gets results, and its spiraled out of control until that playful in fighting has turned into all out war. Mutually, they both have silently agreed without asking that they are going to be the death of each other, and so it's never really a surprise that the other tries to betray them, that's been the rules from the start.

Anyway yeah.

i havent watched cbv in a while

How would you make Cyberverse!Megastar less toxic?

well first of all id make cbv!megatron well written, and i think that would take care of a lot honestly.

[mr-independent]

you know, its not brought up in fics often but ted is extremely well read. he doesnt brag about it, but hes read everything from f scott fitzgerald's b sides to ayn rand's doorstoppers to the sixteen book Ender series, etc etc etc. Ted reads about as much as we see Beard reading (which. in my head is a trait that was passed on, a new focus to sharpen the mind and keep him out of trouble and his mind off drugs, something Ted offered up as a coping mechanism for when his own dad died, a way to have fun and adventure and escape without ending up in jail like Ted himself had a handful of times before, scaring the bejeezus out of his ma.)

this turned into a mini fic and i lost my train of thought but point is, Ted reads So Much and more people need to pick up on this in fics please and thank you.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

(Person who fucked around for the past 3 months): Oh we’re really finding out now boys

[fdragon-art]

Jackie, my good dude~

(Redraw from S4E21: The Champion's Hike)

[genreawareness]

the absolute most inconvenient trait i have is that i think i would fucking thrive as a tv showrunner despite the fact that there are like. at least ten things i can name about that job right now that would kill me.

[arrowpunk]

I want all of my friends to know that I love y'all so so much and I'm sorry I've been so bad at responding to DMs and stuff these past few weeks, I do not think that is going to improve for at least another few weeks because I am just so so busy and everything is so so so much and I am doing my best and I love all of you people in my phone and I will do my best to actually Talk to you all more and better in a few weeks when everything has slowed the fuck down and I'm no longer stressed to the point that it feels like my brain is leaking out of my ears.

[thethingything]

I'm fatigued, my back hurts, I accidentally spent like 3 hours sat downstairs in a chair that made our back feel worse because our executive dysfunction prevented me getting up and going back upstairs even though I only went down there to get one thing, and now I really need to lay down but if I accidentally fall asleep again I feel like I'll wake up, realise I fell asleep and also that I feel like I wasted a big chunk of the day, and I'll end up feeling even worse again

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Back when I was teaching Japanese college students, I remember escorting some of my students back to their dorms from a burger place one of the other mentors invited them to late at night (he ditched them there and I was mad about it because they didn't know the area well).

While we were walking back, I was expressing my disappointment and saying it was inappropriate for that mentor to invite them out without walking them back since it was late at night and it wasn't a great part of the city, but after a few minutes I apologized to them saying something like "I know most of you are grown adults and I don't want you to think I see you as helpless children, but I do want to make sure you get home safely," and one of them said in the kindest most sincere voice, "We know. You are like a Japanese mother."

And I was just like *voice cracking* "Cool" and walked them the rest of the way back to their dorms, then walked to the bus with my face buried in my hands.