#if anyone else sees this i will simultaneously combust

[tw1nkee28]

.... Sigh @olibird

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[wawa-boonliang]

Flufftober Day 2: Family, Friends, Loved Ones

Summary: brotherly bonding between Hitoshi, Dabi, and Shouto. Based on my BNHA fanfiction Never and Always, Eventually

Aizawa-Yamada Shouto isn’t entirely sure why he’s doing this.

It’s been six months since the adoption was finalized. Life had simultaneously calmed down and become more hectic than ever. Shouto didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back to his quiet, shut-in life-style. He didn’t know what he’d do if he ever had to go back to where he was. What he’d do if he lost all of this, all of the hugs in the morning, all of the hair ruffles in the classroom, all of the forehead kisses and sweet wishes goodnight. What he’d do if he didn’t have the warmth of Bakugou… Kacchan… leaning against his side as he sat on the couch with Explodocat spread across his lap, watching TV as Yamada Sensei… as Papa Mic and Shins– Hitoshi argued over the channel.

What he’d do without the warm flutter in his stomach every time he saw Izuku.

But sometimes… he can’t help but fall into old patterns.

Hitoshi froze and peered over Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto held very still, hoping that if he didn’t move, somehow his… brother… wouldn’t be able to see what was on his screen. Unfortunately, Hitoshi didn’t seem to have turned into a T-Rex, so after a few seconds, Hitoshi cleared his throat and read outloud “New theory, Endeavor is secretly in love with All Might.”

Shouto knew it was hopeless at this point, but he still didn’t move, or speak, or breathe.

“Halfy… what the fuck?”

“...it’s not my theory. I’m just reading it.”

“Why are you reading it? What even is this?” Hitoshi gestured to the screen, before heaving himself over the back of the couch and sliding in next to him, pulling the laptop onto his own lap and exploring the page. “ProShippersUnite.com?” Hitoshi read out in glee. “Is this what you fucking do all day in your room?”

“...not always.”

Hitoshi scrolled back up to the post that had initially got his attention due to the giant fan-created splash art of Endeavor and All Might in a passionate embrace. “Don’t show this to Deku, I think he’d actually combust.”

“I wasn’t planning on it? I wasn’t planning on you seeing either.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t have been on it in the living room.”

Shouto flushed. “I didn’t know anyone else was home.”

Shouto, truth be told, had been feeling a little lonely today. Izuku and Kacchan were with Mrs. Midoriya… Aunty Inko… and Papa Mic was at work doing a Charity Marathon stream for the local children’s hospital for cancer awareness month. He wouldn’t be home for another three hours if all went well. Dad was covering patrol today for Mrs. Joke who was out of town visiting family. And up until a few minutes ago, he’d been under the impression that Hitoshi was with Tokoyami at the other boy’s house. Somehow, being in a public space, even in an empty house, was a bit less isolating than being alone in his room in an empty house.

Hitoshi didn’t seem to notice his embarrassment, or if he did he didn’t comment on it. He was too busy reading through the post. “Oh my god, this person made a timeline. All Might says in an interview that he enjoys a specific spicy noodle dish at a certain restaurant, four days later Endeavor is seen at that restaurant ordering that same dish. God, look at that picture. You’d think with being on fire and all he’d be able to handle spice. All Might changes his costume, a few months later Endeavor also changes up his look with the same shade of blue being the predominant color. That’s hilarious, I never noticed that.”

“It’s oddly compelling,” Shouto breaks his silence hesitantly. These days, even though he… he does love Hitoshi… he isn’t always sure when the other boy is making fun of him or not. He never feels like Hitoshi means to hurt his feelings, even though he occasionally does, but he’d rather not be teased about this.

“I…” Shouto wants to explain how, before he had friends, before he had this… theories were all he had. Stupid things to waste time thinking about, because keeping his thoughts occupied was the only way he was able to… just get through the day. Every day. He’d run ridiculous stories through his head, each one more preposterous than the last, and do his best mental gymnastics to justify them. It was fun.

Some of the only fun he’d been able to take for himself for years.

Hitoshi must hear something in his voice, because he stops scrolling and gives Shouto his full attention. “Yeah, Halfy?”

“Sites like these were how I learned about Dad and Papa,” Shouto said slowly. “And Kacchan and Izuku. Them being a family. Theories about Aunty Inko and Mrs. Bakugou being surrogates. Theories about what quirk Izuku had or which father was biologically connected to which son. And before that… I didn’t really have any friends. Theories like this were… the only way I knew how to talk to people. Pros were always happy to share their own, and they always seemed to like mine too.” Shouto huffed. “But now I know they were probably laughing at me half the time. I hadn’t realized it at the time.”

Hitoshi hummed, but his gaze was focused on Shouto. Shouto knew he was listening.

“I just,” Shouto had no idea how to elaborate on how important things like this had been to him, and the more he said out loud, the sillier it seemed. “I just liked them,” he finished lamely.

Hitoshi kept looking at him silently for a few more moments before clearing his throat and closing the laptop. “Let me ask you something, little brother.”

“I’m older than you.”

“Have you ever tried to prove a theory?”

Shouto blinked. “Only…the EraserMic one.”

Hitoshi grinned. “Ferb, I know what we’re gonna do today.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

“How does this prove that Endeavor is in love with All Might?” Shouto asks Hitoshi an hour later as they hide behind some bushes with a video camera liberated from their parents’ room.

Hitoshi, when he answers, addresses his response towards the camera. “I’m glad you asked lil’ listener,” Hitoshi grins, throwing the camera a couple of finger guns. It’s disconcerting, because the grin is all Dad, but the voice is all Papa Mic. It makes Shouto smile despite himself. “We’ll be able to tell by his reaction. Surely, if he isn’t madly in love with everyone’s favorite hero, then he won’t bat an eye. But if he is get ready for an explosive time!”

“Please stop talking like Papa.”

“No. We ready to go live?”

“Oh. We’ve been live.”

Hitoshi freezes, and by his face, Shouto can tell he regrets talking like a mini Present Mic. Shouto feels a strange, unfamiliar sense of glee. A type of glee he’s only recently discovered and is usually reserved for when one of his brothers gets caught doing something harmlessly stupid.

Hitoshi slowly pulls out his phone and clicks onto their website where Momo had hired somebody to set up a page for live streaming. Sure enough, Shouto had been streaming for ten minutes already. Two thousand people were watching, and the chat was very active.

Lmao dude wat

Endeavor? He hates All Might

no no let them talk

lil listener hahaha

omg my babies

Hitoshi kinda hot tho

dat smile damn

Who let them out of hte house unsuerpvised

Present Mic come get ur kid

im worried

plz dont do anything stupid

why

Wait wut imlate to stream

lmaoooo

let him cook

why r u in a bush

put todoroki on camera!

hes not todoroki anymore he got adopted and changed his name

he’s not todoroki

I think his last name is Yamada like Mic

yeah put him on camera!

Where are the adults? Am concerned?

are we sure they aren’t blood related?

Hitoshi punched Shouto in the arm. “Dude, why didn’t you warn me?”

Shouto frowned at him. “I’ve been pointing it at you for the last ten minutes with the light on.” Shouto gestures to the little green light that indicates that the camera is in use.

“How was I supposed to know! I wasn’t looking at you! I was busy.”

Shouto ignores him and points the camera towards the villain fight that they definitely weren’t supposed to be anywhere near. Endeavor had a villain cornered. Shouto hadn’t been paying attention to what the villain in question had done to get the new number one hero on his tail, but that wasn’t what was important. What was important was the several life-sized All Might cardboard cutouts that Hitoshi had sourced from somewhere, and then used his Aizawa-honed skill set to sneakily place just so, peeking out of alleyways, on rooftops gazing down benevolent, inside someone’s car, and even in the window of a shop – the owner lady had been nice when Hitoshi had told her it was a prank on Endeavor.

Since the court transcripts had been made public, the public opinion on the new number one hero had tanked to all time lows. Shouto felt suitably vindicated by this.

They knew the exact moment when Endeavor clocked the first one, the one in the alley, because he froze, letting the villain with the telekinesis quirk get a good hit in with a piece of rubble from the torn up street. A group of civilians cheered. As did their live chat.

yoooooo ten points

Oooooh face shot

lmaoooooooo pog

ouch. i mean lmao. But ouch.

Rofl nice shot

go for the crotch next time!

GIVE HIM THE CHAIR

ahhhh come on, there was a perfectly good car right there. throw that!!!

Shouto the fuck are you doing and why didn’t you invite me

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

Dabi stared in disbelief at his little brother’s livestream.

(He wasn’t entirely sure if he was still able to claim that connection. Not that he’d wanted to for the better part of ten years. But now he wasn’t sure that he could if he did want to. Not since Shouto had been adopted by that sickeningly sweet hero couple. Not since Shouto had been given two new brothers. Or maybe even before. Not since he’d left. But his little maybe-brother had grown into someone that Dabi could see himself being friends with. His little maybe-brother had grown into someone that made Dabi feel a strange feeling of loss in his chest whenever he thought about lost years and lost chances.)

He was all for tormenting Endeavor. But this was lame as hell.

Dabi could do so much better.

“Hey,” Himiko whined. “Are you going? I want to come!”

“No,” Dabi told her sharply, but not unkindly. “One, your obsession with my… brother is weird.”

“Not him! I have a crush on Katsuki!”

“Two,” Dabi steamrolled past, ignoring that. “This is Todoroki business.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

The fight went well.

For the villain.

Once Endeavor noticed the second cut-out, he seemed to be on the lookout for more. The villain had used his distraction to first rough him up, and then get away. Endeavor roared as he gave chase, blasting down the street, almost burning a few civilians in his wake.

Hitoshi and Shouto ran to keep up, making sure to stay out of sight.

“Okay,” Hitoshi panted. “Step two.”

“And what would step two be?”

The two of them stumbled into each other, surprised. Out of an alley came the burned, but amused figure of none other than Touya. Shouto blinked twice, then gave an awkward smile. “Hello, To— Aniki. Would you like to play with us?”

A look of irritation came over Touya’s face, but it disappeared just as fast. “Don’t call me that.” Shouto nodded, knowing that Touya wasn’t talking about aniki. Shouto wasn’t sure why Touya didn’t want to be called Touya, but Shouto also didn’t want to call him Dabi. Dabi was a villain name. Touya wasn’t a villain. Touya was just his brother. But then Touya smiled a smile that wouldn’t look out of place on Dad. “But, yes. I would.”

“Great,” Hitoshi said, accepting this immediately and rolling with it, which Shouto thought was just one of the many things that made his new brother amazing. He couldn’t help but feel a burst of warmth at the thought of spending time with both his little brother and his older brother. “So the plan is–”

“No, no, no” Touya interrupted. “I saw what the plan was. It was dumb. No, you need to listen to me. I know how to fuck with Endeavor.”

Hitoshi and Shouto passed a look between them.

“What do you have in mind, Aniki?” Shouto asked. Touya’s eyes glinted in a way that reminded Shouto that while Touya wasn’t a villain, Dabi was.

“I have a plan.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

Shouto had never thought that he’d be back here.

Even more than that, he never thought he’d be back here laughing.

Fuyumi and Natsuo had moved out ages ago, so the empty manor seemed even emptier than it ever did. Endeavor was still out, and hopefully would be for a while. Technically, they didn’t break and enter, and therefore committed no crime. Originally, Touya had planned on busting through a window, but Endeavor had never asked for Shouto’s house key back. He’d also never officially banned Shouto from the property.

“So,” Hitoshi said to the camera. “My little brother–”

“I’m older than you.”

“-forgot some things when he left, and so we’re here to help him get his stuff. That’s the official story and we’re sticking with it.”

Touya snorted and hefted his bag of supplies. “Now, for the record, I definitely wasn’t in favor of burning down the entire house and dusting off my shoes,” Touya said over his shoulder. “But trust me when I say, this will be better.”

“Also,” Hitoshi continued. “I, as a hero in training, am absolutely not bugging the house in order to get Endeavor's reaction. No siree.”

“Neither am I,” Touya says, gleefully as he hides a small camera in a painting’s frame. “As a dutiful friend of the family, I’m helping with security.”

From behind the camera, Shouto added. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

oh yes we absolutely agree with you

I believe you entirely

Nope nothing sus here

perfectly innocent yup

I mean i actually do believe Shouto

so we not burning down his house?

omg thats a fucking huge ass mansion

steal a tv

With that, Touya started pasting a giant wall art of All Might’s face to the wall.

“It’s beautiful,” Hitoshi wiped an invisible tear from the corner of his eyes. Then, he got to work moving every piece of furniture ever so slightly to the left, dropping tiny but very sharp plastic All Might figures between cushions and behind pillows. And then he scattered the extras around the floor to hopefully be stepped on by bare feet.

“Which is his bedroom?” Hitoshi asked.

“Furthest door down that hallway,” Touya answered before Shouto could.

“Got it,” Hitoshi disappeared. Shouto debated for a moment for as to which brother he should be filming, but then he decided to follow Hitoshi. Touya seemed to be struggling a bit with getting the wall art to stick. Hitoshi was in Endeavor’s room, putting little stickers of All Might’s face on everything, but in unobtrusive areas where they wouldn’t be discovered right away.

“And the best thing is,” Hitoshi said without looking up from what he was doing. “These are all cheap ass dollar store shit, so if he tries to peel ‘em off they’ll leave that shitty resedue that you need glue remover to get off.”

Shouto nodded, accidentally moving the camera as he did so. When Hitoshi was done, he stepped back and took in the room as a whole. It was spartan, with the only decorations being various awards and trophies that Endeavor had been awarded over the years. The overall color scheme was mostly gray with a few splotches here and there of brown. For as long as Shouto can remember, being called into this room meant pain. It meant kowtowing on the ground until his knees went numb as his father ranted. It meant whipping. It meant a heavy boot on his back. It meant fire. It meant whatever he’d done or hadn’t done had been serious. Going into his father’s room to “talk” meant–

“This is boring,” Hitoshi declared after a moment. “Honestly, we’re doing the man a favor.”

That startled a laugh out of Shouto. Hitoshi darted out of the room and was back moments later with spray cans in All Might red, blue, and gold. Hitoshi tossed Shouto the gold. “Here, baby bro–”

“I’m older than you.”

“-that’s for you. Just put that down on the window sill so it can still see us.” Shouto obliged, and then looked for a long moment at the can in his hands. He tried to think of the perfect thing to say. The perfect comeback to years of abuse. (It was easier to think that word now, now that he’d talked about with the Hound Dog and Dad and Papa and Kacchan and Izuku and Hitoshi. It didn’t hurt as much anymore. Nothing hurt as much anymore.) He tried to think of something profound. Something eloquent. Something suitable to match the crime.

He couldn’t think of anything.

Hitoshi noticed his hesitation. “What’s wrong, Halfy?”

“I don’t know what I want to say to him.”

“I mean…” Hitoshi trailed off and Shouto looked up at him, and then noticed that Hitoshi hadn’t been writing anything at all. Rather, there was a rather impressive mural of a dick on fire. Hitoshi shrugged at Shouto’s bemused look. “It’s not like you have to write a poem.”

Shouto looked at his can. He climbed on the bed, standing up, taking joy in not removing his shoes and idly hoping he’d stepped in dog poop at some point that day. Then he reached up as far as he could go, and started spraying the ceiling above the bed.

“WORLDS WORST NUMBER TWO

I HAVE A BETTER DAD THAN YOU

YOURE A FUCKING DOUCHE CANOE”

Hitoshi watched him, his face twisting with laughter. Then he stood next to Shouto and added a final line.

“PEEPEEPOOPOO.”

Together, they admired their work.

“I am a mature hero in training.” Hitoshi announced.

Touya peeked his head in. “Hows it going in here.” Then he spies the poem. He barks out a short laugh. “Beautiful. Art. Poetry.” He has a drill in his hand, and he makes a hole in the corner of the wall where there’s a good angle to see the rest of the room. He presses one final camera bug into the hole, smoothing it in so that it’s flush against the plaster and nearly invisible unless you know what to look for. Then, he grabs the camera from the sill and points it at the ceiling. “Behold.”

All was still for a moment. And then they heard the unmistakable sound of the front gate opening. “Scramble” Touya hissed. They dart down the hall and towards the back of the house, exiting through the garden and leaping over the back fence. They don’t stop running, keeping up the pace as they leave the manor behind them, but after a moment, Touya starts laughing.

It’s a more free laughter than anything Shouto has heard from his older brother in… ever. He sounds young. He sounds free.

He sounds a bit evil.

Hitoshi starts laughing, too. “Please tell me you got all the cameras set up.”

“They’re recording as we speak.” Touya assures him, still smiling widely as they run.

Gradually, they slow their pace until they’re jogging side by side. Shouto is a little surprised that Touya hasn’t gone his own way yet, but he still has their camera, which is presumably still live streaming, so he doesn’t say anything. Afterall, he’s not exactly complaining that his older brother hasn’t disappeared for parts unknown. Again.

And yet, Touya seems a bit surprised when he sees where the two younger boys have led him. “This… is your new home?”

“Yup.” Hitoshi pops the p. “Papa’s probably home by now.”

Touya stops walking. Shouto and Hitoshi look at him in question. “I’ll, uh,” he pushes the camera into Hitoshi’s hands. Hitoshi looks at the screen for a moment, before saluting and turning it off. Touya watches him do this and swallows. “I’ll see you guys–”

The front door opens.

“LIL LISTENERS YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW MANY CALLERS TOLD ME ABOUT oh, hi Touya.”

Touya ruffled up in affront. “That’s not my name.”

“Sorry, sorry, Dabi.” Papa Mic smiles at him. “Thanks for watching the boys today. Come on in! Shouta set some soup to cook this morning and I think it’s ready!”

“I’m not sure-”

“There’s a place at my table with your name on it,” Mic continues, his face carefully open and welcoming. “Even if you don’t claim it today.”

Touya swallows. “Um.”

“All of our family is welcome whenever.”

“I’m not part of your family.”

“Friends?”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Loved ones, then.”

“I’m not–” Touya blinks rapidly. Mic wags a finger at him.

“Rule number seven in this house,” Mic tells him very seriously. “No one gets to decide who someone else loves.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Mic lets his hand fall back to his side, then he steps back, leaving the door open. “No, I don’t.” He admits. “But I’d like to.”

Touya looks lost. Shouto grabs his hand. “Aniki,” he says. “We have to watch the reaction together.”

Touya swallows. “Are you sure? This is your family. Not mine.”

“You’re my family.”

Touya stares at him for a long moment.

Of course, it’s Hitoshi that breaks the silence, tossing his comment over his shoulder as he embraces Mic and goes inside. “Yeah, Aniki, get your butt in here. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Dad’s pho. Its fucking to die for.”

Touya turns wide eyes at Hitoshi’s back disappearing into the house. Slowly, he nods. Mic’s smile grows as Touya slowly walks up the front steps, hesitating just before crossing the threshold into the house. Mic, moving slowly so there’s time for him to move, places a hand on Touya’s shoulder. Touya flinches anyway.

“Are you sure?” Touya asks again, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“I’m sure.”

Touya meets his eyes, then nods. He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself.

He goes inside.

Shouto follows, pressing briefly into Mic as he passes.

Mic closes the door behind them.

[bigwhispersbluebird]

Look into my eyes, and lie

Synopsis: Taehyung and you have been dating for years, serious enough to announce it publicly. Everything was perfect until he starts ignoring you and the only thing that breaks the silence is a rumour that might be the end of this relationship as you know it.

Angst, written from OC's perspective

Warnings: Insinuation of cheating

Author's Note: This will be a two-shot, hopefully.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing off the hook. Even though I usually turn it to silent before sleeping but last night, I had consciously kept it on the highest volume in hopes that he would call.

Taehyung and I had met when my company was contracted to serve as publicists of Bangtan. Being attracted to one of the members went beyond every code of ethic that I had etched in my brain but there is little to be done when the only thing keeping you sane is a certain boxy smile and its owner's persistence. After a couple years of dating, Taehyung wanted to make it official by announcing it to ARMY, first and foremost. That was when the realisation had hit me that this relationship meant as much to him as it did to me.

While the media had tried to turn the situation against BTS, it was the faith and support of ARMY that helped in finding stability and an easy way through it all. Things had been great since then.

Until now.

Taehyung was out of reach, out of contact for days. Eventhough he had always made time before or atleast squeezed in a call, he had not even bothered to reply to my texts for days. More than angry or upset, it was worry that overtook my senses.

"Perhaps he was busy and finally got time", I thought suddenly when the phone rang again.

I sprang up and immediately started searching for it; hands splayed on the mattress, reaching out for him.

Although, as soon as I saw the notifications, my heart dropped. It was a bunch of calls from my company and hundreds of Twitter notifications. This could only mean one thing: another rumour or scandal.

I unlocked my phone, swiping left on all the notifications, searching for only one that I was looking for. But it wasn't there.

However, there was a message from Namjoon. Simple yet something that scared me to bits.

"I am sorry. Talk to me whenever you can."

What was he sorry for?

I tentatively opened Twitter, and soon I wished I hadn't. Ignorance is bliss and I would give anything to be the fool I was a few seconds ago still waiting on a call from the only person who had the power to shatter me like he just did.

"BTS's Taehyung spotted with a blond through the back alley of his private apartment. Unless Y/N has suddenly had a change of style, we smell something fishy."

Attached was a blurred shot taken through night vision camera. And if I hadn't memorized all the contours of his body, I would have second guessed who that person was for the sake of my sanity. However, one look and I knew that it was him. His arms around the waist of a blond I hadn't seen before. Her face was not visible but she seemed too close to him for my liking.

No, Y/N! Stop acting all paranoid. You know he is not like that. There must definitely be a reason for this image and the situation. And just because someone calls it an affair, doesn't mean it has to be. He would never disrespect you like that. Get a grip.

Repeating the same words in my head, I got up from my bed, ignoring the notifications that were still chiming on my phone. I almost believed what I was telling myself but the lack of explanation on his behalf made me question myself.

Shouldn't he have called me after seeing this? After knowing how it would affect me? Or maybe it is true and he doesn't have the nerve to accept it? Or perhaps, it is too much of bullshit for him to pay attention to it?

Questions after questions popped in my head as I got dressed for work, maybe he would drop by there? Amongst it all, the thing that was worrying me more was not the picture or the news but his absence from my life for so long that he hadn't even bothered replying to me. Whatever happened or didn't happen was about the night before so what was the reason of his anger before that?

Before leaving, I unplug my phone from the charger and once again scrolled through all the notifications. Messages from my friends, even his friends but none from him.

Frustrated, I climb into my car and turn on the music at the highest volume, hoping it would quiet down my brain.

*****

"Everything that has been reported is nothing but a misunderstanding and yet another manipulation of a simple situation to relay a story of your choice. Taehyung and I are still together and very happy and have only to be grateful to our fans that have believed us without reason. He is busy with his work and I am indulged in mine but please don't worry about us."

I turned off the television after watching myself strut inside the office building after giving a speech I wish I had believed with as much confidence as I had faked. But something had to be done about the reporters that had not moved from the building for the last four days. What didn't help the case was that his label had not come out with ANY statement nor were we spotted together. Everyone had assumed that we had broken up after Taehyung cheated. No matter what, I would not let a scandal tarnish his career.

My anger filled speech could not be nitpicked by even the most observant of people. That is what you get after years of being famous and now the head of the leading artist representative label.

But as I sat in my office room, overlooking the city, I could not mute the sound of my heart breaking.

I glanced at the frame on my desk. A picture we had taken on our trip to Rome. A simple one of us on the bike we had rented. Me holding on to his waist and him holding on to me, genuine smiles painted on our lips.

When did everything go so wrong?

I didn't even notice I was crying until my secretary knocked on the door, opening it simultaneously in urgency but soon halting noticing my state.

"It is okay, Kai", I waved at him, wiping at my face with the other.

"Um, apologies ma'am but Mr Taehyung is waiting for you."

My mind went numb. I didn't expect him to come anymore. Not after he had ignored my existence for so long now, acting like we meant nothing.

But he was here. He was here and I wish I had the courage to turn him away but I did not. I wanted to see him. Desperately.

Unable to voice out my thoughts, I just nodded at Kai who understood as he walked out, probably to lead him inside.

I immediately glanced at the mirror on the wall, my self respect intact enough to not let him know how much his indifference had hurt me. I would never give anyone that satisfaction.

But as he walked into the room, his familiar scent overtaking everything reminding me how every part of my own office was full of him. The picture on my desk, his guitar leaning on the farther wall, my side table still full of the lavenders he had bought me a month before, the coat hanger where his baseball cap still stands when we decided to leave our disguises and go on a sudden date. And well me, his from every aspect, body and soul. My heart almost stopped and my brain lost all reasons it had to put up a facade. I just wanted to run to him.

But all the emotions made me so exhausted that I kept sitting there, planted as if I would combust into ashes if I tried moving.

So I stayed, looking at him. Dressed like his usual self, a plain shirt with flared pants and a vitange coat. His hair styled like he had come straight here from work. He must have, I realized as I noticed what time it was.

"Tae...", I tried breaking the silence but all that came out was a meek croak. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "You came here from work?". Again, silence.

"Were you crying?", he said. His expressions stoic but worry shining from his voice and I wanted to burst into tears but I only had my dignity to hold onto right now.

"Not really. Kinda sick I guess so I might look red but I am fine".

I knew he didn't believe me but thankfully he let me live it down.

Moving forwards, he tentatively sat in the chair placed opposite mine and I knew how neither of us failed to realize how foreign that action was when usually he would grab a chair and place it right beside mine, pulling me closer to him until I was between his knees or how he would settle himself on the sofa and pat on it and I would rush to occupy the space beside him.

I tried to swallow another lump forming in my throat. This was his way of showing that things were different. And I wanted to know why. Was it someone else? Or did we just reach the end and I didn't see it coming?

I watched him as he looked down, fumbling with the belt of his coat, which he had not taken off, not expecting to stay long. His face which was always stoic failed to hide how desperately he was searching for words to make everything go away.

I saw it too and it was the only reason why I fought through all my resolve and spoke, not bothering to hide how vulnerable I felt.

"Taehyung, I don't want any explanations", I noticed as his eyes met mine, slowly, all his attention on me, "I don't want to know anything that happened before or anything that happened after you stopped talking to me". I stopped, my heart beating so fast I could hear it thump in my ears. His eyes fixated on me, his expression mimicking mine- awaiting what I would say next.

"Just tell me they lied", I spoke but it came out as a plea, my voice cracking as I tried to maintain eye contact with him through all the tears that were now brimming my eyes. "Tell me that nothing happened between you and the woman in that picture. Just say that and I will never talk about this again. I'll forget that these last few weeks ever occurred in our lives."

Taehyung's eyes did not leave mine, his expression unreadable now. As I continued speaking, his head fell low, trying to hide the tears that were in his eyes too.

"Tell me and I will take your word over everything. Please," I begged, " Please...".

I did not have the energy to continue as emotions overtook me and I helplessly sobbed, my entire body shaking and tears chasing each other down my cheeks. I covered my face with my hands, crying into my palms until I felt familiar warm hands on mine, pulling them to reveal my face.

My teary eyes met his and before I could try to understand what everything meant, he broke the silence, saying each word without breaking  eye contact so I could believe it, "They lied. I can't...I didn't cheat on you...".

As soon as his words reached me, my eyes failing to find a lie, I couldn't hold it in as I burst into tears throwing myself in his arms which were quick to catch me, enveloping around my body tightly showing that he won't let go.

So I cried into him while I felt his own tears dropping on my shoulders.

Nothing mattered. Neither the several days of not talking, nor the reports pouring in since that night. I knew that he was not lying and that was enough to make me let go of everything else.

For now.

[pain-in-the-butler]

The time has come once again

The Bloodbath

“I’m simply one hell of a butler” says Sebastian as he starts cleaning as usual

Okay so Agni’s taking no prisoners

Work Nerd, Science Nerd, and Jock Nerd team up to form the Nerd Trifecta

Team One Brain Cell joins up with Phipps, who is quite possibly their only chance for survival

Ran-Mao remembers how Harcourt beat everyone in the unfortunately deleted round and said “Not in my backyard”

So far, everyone else has simply run away unscathed or grabbed a weapon they won’t use because the game doesn’t record weapons. Rip Tanaka

Day 1

Ran-Mao bringing the canon energy by adding a second weapon to her arsenal

Phipps somehow always turns into Team Dad during these, so I’m glad to see he’s finding time for his favorite hobbies

Undertaker up to his usual Sneaky Antics

It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. Kind of impressive honestly

Considering Harcourt lost his mace, I’ll just assume the attack Grell “escaped” from was the vicious stabbing of his trim little schoolboy fingernails

Bad vibes

It appears that Lau also brought his canon game

Sebastian in the most recent chapters be like

I’ve actually never had this event come up before and it has to happen between two of the more innocent characters in the series;;;; god Lizzie you deserve better even in the Hunger Games Simulator

Where’s a Safety Nerd when you need one

What’s better than this? Guys bein dudes

This is probably what happened after Ciel left Weston

Sebastian will take care of this for ya, huh bud

Other events:

Agni practices his archery

Wolfram goes fishing

Othello finds a cave

Soma goes ‘splorin

Edward goes huntin

Day 1′s Deaths: Tanaka, Sieglinde, Lizzie, and Macmillan. Someday one of the ladies will win

Night 1

Butler slumber party in the woods, BYOYM (bring your own young master)

It takes a lot of energy to be this blond

I’m happy for her :)

Yeah I’ll bet you probably do Lau

A tonal shift so abrupt I got mental whiplash

Can we go back to when Grell was looking at the sky pls

Thought about science too hard. Got a concussion

Thought about Ciel dying too hard. Got an infection

Aww dad :( Hope you caught some fish tho

Looks like Harcourt won’t be winning this one, gang

I stg the hunger games simulator is misogynist because the ladies always DIE /j

Ran-Mao is hopefully here to prove the previous statement wrong

Other events:

Bard gets a hatchet

Undertaker also passes out from exhaustion

R!Ciel goes to sleep in a tree

Day 2

Oh you five are SO going in my burn book for this. It’s what Grell would’ve wanted

Ahaha just like in the real manga... right guys (;

Idk about you but I’m rooting for her

I don’t think the simulator could’ve picked four people who were less likely to team up than this

I would too if I saw my best friend was palling around with an opium dealer, a grim reaper with a lawn mower, and another grim reaper that the first grim reaper doesn’t like

Other events:

Othello chases Wolfram

That’s the only other event actually

That means today we lost O!Ciel, Mey-Rin, Harcourt, and Grell. ffs, I hope Ran-Mao kills all of you

Night 2

I’ve missed you, rare pair simulator

The “unknown sponsor” was Undertaker and the “fresh food” was O!Ciel

Confirmed: Lau doesn’t get high off his own supply

Once again a ceasefire between the strong hungry boys is formed

Girl, you don’t have to do that

“Did you kill Ciel?” Sebastian asks

“No that was William,” Othello says

Sebastian punches a tree so hard that it combusts. “God damn. Fuck” Sebastian says

Wolfram just realized I put him in the Hunger Games simulator

Other events:

Phipps thinks about “Are you winning son”

Undertaker gazes at space

Ronald becomes Lost Ronald

Soma passes out

Bard gets some water

Day 3

Damn Agni who haven’t you flirted with

Finny sees that Bard has water and thinks Bard cooked it himself, so he wants no part of that (might be burnt)

What did he even have that was worth stealing? A fish?

Well I can tell you who isn’t creating that smoke: Lau

“What’s worse than two young masters? No young masters. Now get over here and make a contract”

Everything about this sentence is a fever dream

Other events:

Undertaker decides he wants a slingy shot too

Edward chases Dad I mean Phipps

Othello gets some ouchies from picking berries

Night 3

When your young master dies, you just get an infection apparently

damn Finny’s playing hardball

I don’t think anything bad has actually happened to Bard yet. It’s just been a grand frolic the whole time

I barely remember reading the first Hunger Games but Ran-Mao’s the Foxface of this journey: she deserves to win and I just know she’ll die in the stupidest way possible

Sebastian’s like a cat that can’t reach the bird it wants to attack, so it attacks the nearest other thing instead. Poor Dad

Two white-haired anime boys and a not-white-haired anime boy talk about who will die tomorrow. Anime doesn’t exist yet so the white-haired anime boys don’t know their hair color automatically spells their doom

Other events:

Edward starts a fire, which means he’s capable of smoking opium

Ronald gets some medical supplies

Othello gets a hatchet

R!Ciel thinks about winning

Lau gets an entire explosive, but he won’t be able to light it, so no it’s no big deal

Day 4

In Soviet Hunger Games, white-haired anime boy kills you

But why murder someone when you could just mess with them

Other events:

Grey scares Bard

Finny goes hunting

Night 4

Have you four even killed anyone yet

The list of “people who didn’t start the manor fire and also don’t smoke opium” now consists of Lau and R!Ciel

The mood is too light now. Someone needs to die and it better not be Ran-Mao

At last, Father Phipps has chosen his son for this round

Agni gushes about all the hot guys he’s simultaneously in love with, giving Ran-Mao a clearer idea of who’s still alive

Day 5

Girl, it’s about time, go claim some trophies

Finny’s easily got the longest kill streak and it’s a little unnerving

Father Phipps finds a new secret fishing hole

Othello doesn’t

Lau continues to put in all the efforts of a kindergarten bully

Oh no. He’s a yandere

Other events:

Sebastian fucks around and explores the arena

Bard fucks around and hunts for tributes

Undertaker fucks around and sleeps

R!Ciel fucks around and picks flowers

Night 5

I’ve never met anyone who ships Sebastian/Undertaker but I know you’re out there

Okay, maybe these four are even less likely to team up than Phipps, Ronald, Undertaker, and Lau

Edward sees I’m making jokes about people who build fires and stays hidden

Day 6

Canonically, that is the only way R!Ciel would win a fight, so

I probably could have predicted this

I hope these are the faces they made when it happened

The “unknown sponsor” is R!Ciel and the “fresh food” is an ear that fell off his own head

I’m not sure if I should be concerned or unsurprised that Bard’s Hunger Games life is more chill than his canon life

the “unknown sponsor” was the fish and the “clean water” was “fish water”

Other events:

Ran-Mao gets her third weapon that she doesn’t want to use, which is a hatchet

Finny finds a river

Agni practices archery again, but he doesn’t kill anyone because he wants this to go on forever

Night 6

Ran-Mao I beg you please. Release us from this purgatory of mediocrity

And suddenly we’re back to canon Bard

I guess not everything can be canon

Other events:

Both Agni and Phipps pass out from exhaustion. It’s 2:50 a.m. so I should really be taking a page from their book, but unfortunately everyone refuses to die

The Feast

Finny has been a stone cold killer this entire match, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the girl I wanted to win would get eliminated by him, but it still hurts ✌️😔

If you cheat on Othello, he will overpower you, killing you

Everyone else decided not to go to the Feast. Honestly, I don’t remember what the Feast is, but everyone who did go either murdered someone or got murdered, so I guess that was probably a good call

Day 7

I’ve had enough of this dude

Jesus Finny I can’t wait to see how many kills you got, I feel like you and Agni were the only two who took anyone down

Bard, Undertaker, Sebastian, and Phipps all hunt for other tributes but they’re useless and don’t kill anyone

Arena Event: Volcano Eruption

In one fell swoop, we lose Sebastian, Undertaker, R!Ciel, and Finny, jeez. But... that means it comes down to.............

FATHER PHIPPS VS. BARD

FATHER PHIPPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wow... Unlike his manga counterpart, this boy coasted the whole time and won... He basically went on vacation and he actually won... But then again, it’s Hunger Games Simulator and nothing is sacred

Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson today. I hope you did at some point before you read my post, because you sure as hell learned nothing from this. Thank you for wasting precious minutes of your life with me 😏

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Yo, so I flew through Wrong Number, Asshole (which is 😙👌) and I thought his quirk going off over the phone was so cute. But do you think he’d be insecure about it??? Like about holding hands or trying to keep it together if his s/o says something embarrassing? And what else do you think would he be embarrassed about with s/o?

omg tysm!!! i love writing that story so much so i’m glad u enjoy it!!! we do love a good soulmate au here hehe

aNd wow what a good ask thank u for this im obsessed with it and this is gonna be soooo long omg soz

-okay so first. yes. 100,, 10000% embarrassed about it. he feels like he should have his shit together with his quirk since it’s what Bakugou’s so proud of,,,, and like that’s mostly true???

-except i personally hc that his quirk also ties into intense emotion the same way regular sweating does,,, like, if he feels rlly strongly about something, instead of normal sweating it’s just straight nitroglycerin. and he has to like actively learn how to get a handle on it as he grows too!! so like anxiety sweating? sure he’s got it under control, been there done that. scared sweating?? only gets scared in battle and he’s already exploding things by then so its all good. but love???

-oml has no iDEA how to handle it!! i fully believe bakugou’s idiotic mad brain doesn’t fall easy, but when he does , he falls hARD. so lets say he has a major major crush for the first time ever, and he’s just sweating everywhere and his skin feels like it’s on fire - mans just pops. like a bacon griddle. not full on explosions bc he’s not actively setting them off ,, but if u do something cute, something that gets his heart racing just right he’ll pop

-i kinda imagine it’s bc Bakugou can’t understand what he’s feeling bc he’s a big dumb angry person so instead of just accepting his crush he’s like “oh. my palms are exploding by themselves. and i think about s/o constantly. huh. both things at the same time must mean i want to fight them- yeah that’s it. i just wanna fight ‘em real bad.” which only leads to more little explosions.

-pLeasE heLP hIm

-but anyways, you better not say a sinGle thing about this if u see it or hear it. bc man’s is not one to be embarrassed without putting up a fight,,, and this is about explosions , something he knows,,, so he’ll be like “yeah? wanna fuckin’ make fun of me, huh? i’ll show u what to fuckin’ make fun of!” and then just decide to set off a close range explosion in his hands or blow something near u up to high hell

-what can i say, he’s an idiot??

-congratulate katsuki on the explosion tho,, tell him it was really big and scary and thats when you’ll get him reaLLY embarrassed and keep him embarrassed

-speaking of hand holding tho,, he’ll be super nervous to try at first. like he doesn’t want u to end up feeling the little pops bc you’ll ask and then he’ll have to embarrassed and explain and he just isn’t a fan of that idea alright?? quickly comes to realize tho, as he experiences it, that if you hold his hand you’ll actually smother the little explosions??? like just- nothing will happen bc there’s not enough oxygen for anything to combust unless he makes it combust. which he won’t. obviously.

-oooO and here’s sum other “embarrassing” things he does that you’re ~not allowed~ to comment on

will stare in private. just generally zone out and stare at you- don’t say anything tho!!! bc otherwise he’ll get all huffy and “what the hell are you even makin’ that stupid shit up for! I’d never be caught dead starin’ at an idiot like you” - all said while still simultaneously staring at you.

tries to impress you. like if other people are around that he think u might like, he’ll challenge them to like weird physical feats or intelligence tests or he even somehow turns telling jokes into a competition??? and he’s so competitive it’s obvious too, but u can’t say anything about it. just let him express his love through borderline violence and victory lust ig bc there’s pretty much no stopping him

will cook food for you. don’t comment on how good it tastes tho bc for some reason he finds how much he wants to take care of u majORLY embarrassing

being physically affectionate. man’s almost never grows the balls to initiate hugs or hand-holding or cuddling bc he finds it mega embarrassing to be needy so if he does?? and then you make a joke like “oh, you’re so clingy today, huh” ?? man’s will throw u away from him and never touch u again unless u ask, so just don’t say anything. pleASE

remembering small details. Bakugou’s actually pretty smart and if he likes u then he actually listens to what you have to say,,, this means he’ll remember 3 weeks ago when u said u had a test that day, and ask u about it when he sees u- don’t say any “oh! im suprised u remembered!’ or anything tho,, he’ll get huffy

-and finally, here is a lil list, as a bonus just for u my love, of normal person behaviors that you do that ??somehow?? embarrass immature and emotionally-stunted bakugou katsuki:))

If he sees you do anything embarrassing like trip, or drop food on yourself, or swallow a drink the wrong way and end up coughing, etc.,, if it was literally anyone else Bakugou would just laugh, loudly, bc he’s an ass,, but ur not just anyone else. ur his s/o and suddenly seeing you do that stuff feels so intimate!! esp bc he would’ve never even seen if in the first place if he wasnt paying so much attention to u!!!

saying hi to him first when he’s with other people. like, example, lets say he’s with the bakusquad and they’re just all just hanging out in the common room, right,, so u walk in, see them all sitting there and wave, but u say “Hi bakugou, hi guys!” just bc u were excited to see him. man’s will go rED SO FAST AND HIDE HIS FACE

bending down to tie your shoes. no explanation needed- he’s a guy.

if you go to the store and ask him if he needs anything. it’s literally so simple but for some reason his heart just seizes?? like?? ur thinking about him the same way he thinks about u all the time???? and ur concerned enough to get him something if he needs it??? please he’s goNe, just a whole-ass pile of blushing

if you’re sitting in a group and you look at him everytime something funny is said. bc ofc he’s already going to be looking at u to see ur reaction, so when ur eyes meet and you’re laughing and smiling bakugou just gets so flustered!!!

wearing an outfit he knows nobody else has seen before. this could be new clothes, his clothes, pajamas, old clothes u wouldn’t wear in public, even halloween costumes before a party???- point is, if Bakugou knows nobody else has seen you like that, and only he gets to?? boy is sO SOFT and embarrassed about it

tysm again!! this was such a fun ask!!!! <333

[diredove]

What does Dire Crowley Dig?

Dire is older than old-fashioned, he’s ancient-fashioned, okay? As a Dire devotee, it pains me to say it but he’s 100% the type to think women’s shoulders are distracting and still believes in wearing shawls to cover your upper arms. And do you know what that means, dear reader? It means he’s repressed, repressed to the highest and most hilarious degree. This man thinks closing the door when it’s just the two of you is scandalous, if you touched his forearm he’d simply combust. 

All this to say, I have many thoughts about how Dire “omg is that an ankle” Crowley feels toward potential love interests and in the essay (this is absolutely not an essay, I am simply vibing in the thirst void this whole post) I will detail what a prude this man is.

✥ Warnings: Saucy, spicy, scandalous!! Nothing truly explicit, but everything is vaguely-pretty darn suggestive! I don’t mention gender in this, expect for women’s shoulders once, so I think it counts as gender-neutral reader!  Also, spicy does not mean satisfying, because I play too much for this to be taken seriously asdfghjkl

✥ Firstly, just because he’s a prude doesn’t mean he knows he’s a prude. In fact, Dire fancies himself something of a devil in terms of romance, he thinks he’s too bold for those timid-hearted younglings, truly!

✥ Has written many a saucy love letter in his time, the very thought of the filth he’s written makes him red in the face when he thinks about it, “I would kiss your bare knee”, “If you were at my side this night, the cold would not frighten me so”, and “My love, my body yearns only for you” are just a few of the salacious gems he’s patted himself on the back about. What a dog, eh?

✥ It’s so painfully easy to riled Dire up it’s almost not fun, you could blink at him wrong and he’d think you were a minx. Touch his hand when taking something from him? He’s already wide eyed at your confidence. Put your face close to his for any reason? Are you trying to seduce him? Or, Seven forbid, you- I can’t even say it... Put a hand on his thigh? Good job, you killed him, he’s gone. Donezo. No more birdman.

✥ The first time he sees your calves he trips over air and his mask smashes into the ground so hard it’s amazing the beak didn’t crack off. And you’re just, out! Like that! Without a care! Our poor headmaster is so flustered he has to run off into an unused classroom to hyperventilate, he’s so hot all of a sudden and his big flashy coat seems far too thick.

✥ Will actually scream/yelp out loud if you wear anything off-the-shoulder, like, clutch his chest (and pearls) and shriek. Once he realizes that no one else seems to care you’re entirely exposed, he’ll play it off like he saw a bug or something. He doesn’t care, nope, no sir, he’s not sneaking peeks behind his mask at all. Shoulder are so mundane and totally not attractive to him at all.

✥ Don’t mention collarbones. Just don’t, for his sake, don’t.

✥ If you ever manage to get his number, you’re in for a treat! He still think love letters are the way to anyone’s heart and sends you a paragraph text so long you have to scroll for 2 minutes to reach the end. He’s quite proud of himself, he’s smugly sure you’re shivering at the thought of him.

✥ His bravado is dead the moment he open the image you sent him in return. He not touching his phone for a month btw, he can’t even type his password without going red and yelling in embarrassment. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or in front of people, if he thinks about it, he’s yelling.

✥ Goes to Crewel for help because he realizes he’s in over his head but also still wants to look cool and experienced to you. Crewel laughs at him and tells him to struggle. Dire wonders what he pays any of the teachers for.

✥ Moving past Dire’s crisis over how everyone has magically become more experienced than him, we should also talk about how proud this man is. He absolutely loves praise and likes being told in detail that he’s doing a good job. Keep it sweet and if you think you’re over doing it? Do even more, because he’s eating it up no matter how cheesy or irrelevant the praise might be. You could say he makes great omelets and he would feel like the sexiest man alive.

✥ Definitely says “making love” instead of “fucking”, and if you say fucking he’s going to correct you and/or be flustered by your vulgarity. 

✥ Has never said “dick” in his life, always always uses a euphemism. 

✥ If his partner tries to dirty talk him he’s just going to stare with his jaw on the floor and now no one gets to do anything because Dire.exe has stopped working for the rest of the night. 

✥ Just, help him. He’s stuck in the 1900s somewhere and you’re going to have to hold his hand through modern-day hook-ups, he’s lost and afraid but morbidly intrigued by everything you teach him once he gets over his pride.

This is, way messier than I intended, but I am also brainrotting and simultaneously realizing I think about Dire’s intimate life too much to be sane. At least one of these headcanons is bound to be coherent though, I hope! When I’m a better writer I’ll probably write a better worded and less goofy rendition of this haha

[mizunetzu]

Maybe some Kuroo x Male reader,, I just need some of my boy 😩

Of course !!! Kuroos the HOMIE I tell you-

————

Kuroo x reader - I’m not gay

⚠️ Warnings - Confused reader, pretty much none

Prounouns - Male, He/Him

——————

I’m not gay,

is what (y/n) told himself, at age 7.

He was over at his friends house, deciding on a movie to watch before they had to go to sleep.

When he held up a rather feminine looking cd, one of them snickered, and the other didn’t even spare it a glance.

“(Y/n)- thats for girls!”

“I-I know that! Shut up! It...it looked interesting...”

“Kuroo-give (y/n) a break...” Kenma murmured, looking up from his Ds briefly.

——

I’m not gay,

Is what (y/n) told himself, in his third year of Junior high school.

He wasn’t going to lie when he said he was a bit curious about the topic, but he’d never considered himself being attracted to the same gender.

Which is why he asked his close female friend if he could kiss her.

It was an odd question, but (y/n) needed to settle something within himself. Just a quick peck on the lips to see if the feelings would go away.

(Y/n) was rather surprised when she nodded yes, because people usually say no when people ask you to kiss them. But he wasn’t disappointed, no.

She leaned up on her tippy toes, pressing a chaste kiss onto (y/n’s) lips, before settling back down on the balls of her feet and hiding her flushed face with the mass of her uniforms sleeves. She peeked through her fingers to see (y/n’s) eyes fixed on the ground in front of him, with a distasteful frown gracing his features.

That didn’t feel right, (y/n) thought.

——

I’m...im not....

Is what (Y/n) told himself, during his second year of high school.

He was in the volleyball club in his school, and the intrusive thoughts hadn’t cross his mind since back in junior high. It was actually going pretty good.

He only had one girlfriend the entire time he was in high school, but he ended it pretty quickly to focus on himself, his feelings, and building Nekoma’s defense. (Hell yeah, sports!!)

Nekoma had a training camp where other schools were invited, which is how he found himself sitting in a circle with a few other teammates and managers, playing ‘never have I ever’.

Most of Nekoma was crowded in the circle, with some stragglers from fukurodani, and Tanaka with Nishinoya and Hinata.

The managers from other schools, both fukurodani’s managers, along with Kyoko and Yachi were there too. (Y/n) was pretty sure that Tanaka, Nishinoya, and maybe Yamamoto were only there to “protect Kiyoko Senpai”, but hey, at least they had more players that way.

People went around saying things like “never have I ever cheated on an exam”, “never have I ever served straight to the libero,” or “never have I ever been the cause of bokutos emo mode”

(That question itself put bokuto in his emo mode)

(Y/n) was the only one who had all fingers up, followed by Kuroo, who had only 2 fingers down, then Akaashi, with 4 fingers down.

It was going pretty smoothly until Yukie, one of Fukurodani’s managers, asked,

“Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this circle.”

Not many people put a finger down, but the question made (y/n’s) questionable thoughts come back in a flash. It forced him to think if he did find any of the girls in the circle attractive, and after ruling all them out, he, half jokingly, turned his attention to the boys.

His eyes drifted from each of the volleyball players, until his eyes landed on Kuroo.

Kuroo. One of his childhood friends. Someone he, regretfully, considered attractive. I mean, he had a nice build, he was in the college preparatory classes, and his thighs could crush-

No, shut up. He’s a man.

You’re a man.

....What the fuck?

(Y/n) didn’t even notice his finger fold itself in, until everyone gasped and started berating him with squeals and questions.

“Who is it?!?”

“It better not be Kiyoko Senpai!”

“It has to be to be Kaori, (Y/n’s) been talking to her alooooot lately!”

He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose at the idea of dating one of Fukurodani’s managers.

“It’s...it’s not Kaori, no offense but I’d never date Kaori...” (Y/n) mused out as nonchalantly as he could. The second those words flew out of his mouth, he regretted not pretending it was Kaori, so they could drop the topic.

Everyone’s comments went in one of (y/n’s) ear and out the other, until yaku cleared his throat and said,

“If it’s not any of the managers, is it a guy then?”

All of the questions died down almost instantly. (Y/n) felt his blood ran cold.

“I mean...is it?” Akaashi broke the silence, maintaining direct eye contact with (y/n).

I’m not too sure with myself, (y/n) thought, chuckling dryly.

With (y/n’s) answer, or lack thereof, everyone started listing off the boys names or saying “is it me?? If it is sorry dude! Haha..” or some variations of that.

(Y/n) felt like he was going to combust with all the “is it —?’s” and “is it me’s??” He never wanted to think about it again, yet here he was, being-

“Is it Kuroo?” Bokuto grinned, half joking, gesturing to the 3rd year sitting right next to him.

(Y/n’s) eyes widened comically. Was it Kuroo?

He wasn’t sure why this one flushed him so bad. His hands started trembling from their spot in the air, and a red tint spread across his face like a virus. He knew he admired his captain, but having a full blown crush on him? He didn’t dare look up at everyone’s prying gaze, instead suddenly finding immense interest in a broken seam in his red volleyball shorts.

“Oh my god, it is Kuroo!” Someone squealed, probably someone like Bokuto. All their voices seemed to merge together and sound the same. People were gasping, nudging (y/n’s) shoulder, or saying stuff like “I support you!!” Or “you too would be soooo cute together!”

(Y/n) brought his fingers down and entangled them in his sweaty hair. “I’m..I’m not gay. I’m not...” (Y/n) rasped out defensively, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Warm hands grasped his wrists, pulling them away from (y/n) gently, forcing him to look up. Kuroo held a shit eating grin that made (y/n’s) stomach churn in both a good way and a horrible, horrible way.

“Oi oi, it’s ok to like boys (y/n)-what, are you in denial or someth-“

“Shut up! I’m straight, and I don’t like you! Don’t touch me!” (Y/n) suddenly lashed out, whipping his wrists out from Kuroo’s hold. He stood up abruptly, choked out a weak “I’m gonna get some fresh air” and staggered out of the room.

No one seemed to notice that Kuroo had put a finger down, as well.

——

Im not gay. I’m not gay. I’m not gay.

Is what (y/n) repeatedly told himself, in the bathroom.

(Y/n) threw water onto his face, before slapping his cheeks as hard as he can. He then backed into the bathroom wall and let himself sink down to the cold floor tiles.

“Goddamit...nnNNFUCK!” (Y/n) dug both his fists into the dirty bathroom floor. His hands stung from the impact. A sigh escaped from his lips as he hid his sopping wet face into his hands.

“What...the fuck...I’m not...they’re just...just stupid! Yeah! They’re stupid and I don’t have a crush on stupid Kuroo! Yeah! Y-Yeah..! .....Yeah...”

He sat in silence for what seemed like forever, before he got sick of listening to his own thoughts. He shakily brought himself up to his feet, and exited the bathroom.

——

Im not gay,

Is what (y/n) told himself, more calmly than before, heading towards the sleeping rooms with a stable smile.

He almost made it scott-free before he felt a hand firmly grasp his shoulder.

“Hey.”

(Y/n) didn’t dare to turn around.

“I...they..might’ve jumped to conclusions, but I really need to know.”

Do you now? Cause I’d like to know, too.

A heavy silence consumed both of them whole. Kuroo forced (y/n) to turn around, tilting his head up with his finger.

“Do you like me.” It was more like a statement than a question.

“I...i don’t know? I think? Maybe?? I-I’m not sure...” Kuroos serious gaze boor holes into (y/n’s) face.

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know! I mean-I’ve always thought about it, but I never considered that I could be...y’know...and I never really thought about you like that till Bokuto brought it up...”

Kuroo was tacken aback by the sudden raise in pitch, but quickly regained his neutral expression.

“Kiss me.”

It was (Y/n’s) turn to be shocked.

“What-“

“You heard me.”

“You can’t be serious,” (y/n) awkwardly chuckled. He ran fingers through his hair. “Kuroo, hey-“

The middle blocker grabbed hold of the (h/c) boy. He yelped and struggled in his grasp, but Kuroo held his hand firm.

“You don’t know how you feel about me, right? Do you want your answer or not?”

It was rare moments like these where Kuroo wasn’t being smug, or wearing his shit-eating grin, that ignited a confusing flame inside (y/n’s) chest and/or dick. (Y/n) let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah, fine-whatever lets get it over with.” (Y/n) grumbled, red in the face.

Kuroo took hold of (y/n’s) chin with his thumb and index finger, and snaked his other arm around the boys waist. He leaned in slowly, letting their lips meet in the middle.

This didn’t feel similar to the kiss he had in junior high. It felt better. It didn’t feel forced or boring like it did when he kissed that girl, this one feels nice. (Y/n) let his eyes flutter closed while he clutched Kuroos shoulders weakly.

Kuroo began to pull away, but (y/n) whimpered and lunged forward to connect their lips once more. It was a sensation that he never wanted to let go of, but of course, air was also something he couldn’t live without.

They pulled away simultaneously, (y/n) very obviously heaving while Kuroo let out a few deep exhales.

“So...” Kuroo said, wiping spit from his swollen red lips. “How do-“

“I love you.” (Y/n) said, testing the words out on his tongue.

“Hm?” Kuroos vague response dug a pit into (y/n’s) stomach. Did I misread this situation?

(Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. “Aah...I mean-I think, no hard feelings if you don’t like dudes-I mean I just found out myself so it’s all good-“ Kuroos booming, stupid hyena laugh broke (y/n) out of his rambling session. (Y/n) looked up at the middle blocker, and slowly relaxed and let himself smile at his antics.

“You really think too much...” Kuroo said, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “Don’t worry, I like you too~”

He patted the boy on his head, as (y/n’s) cheeks flushed involuntarily.

I could be gay,

(Y/n) told himself, hand in hand with his newly found boyfriend, Kuroo Tetsurō.

And that’s fine by me.

———————

Extra:

“Get it, (y/n)! Kuroo! Use a condom boys!” Bokuto yelled, from behind a gym wall with Akaashi. The two turned around, surprised.

“Sorry. Bokuto was curious when you said ‘I need to find my new boyfriend, I’ll be right back’, and left.” Akaashi said, fiddling with his ring finger.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t lying when I said ‘new boyfriend’ though, huh, (Y/n)?” Kuroo smirked, slapping his ‘new boyfriend’ firm on the ass. (Y/n) gave a yelp before blushing and clutching the spot where Kuroo smacked.

It would’ve been fine if it was a normal person who slapped him, but in his case, it wasn’t.

But let me tell you, volleyball players spikes are very, very hard. And Kuroo was no exception.

There was a hand-shaped mark on (Y/n’s) ass for a week straight.

————————

[scalproie]

idw megs, i wanna hear ur thoughts 👀

Sometimes I feel you read my mind💖

favorite thing about them: So when I read mtmte/lost light I'm like. Wow. Megatron is such a great character and you really sympathize with him and his redemption arc is pretty cool and somewhat well-handled and even the simple fact that they're giving a redemption arc to MEGATRON of all characters is pretty daring on itself. Idw Megatron in general really makes you feel the tragedy of his character. And also he's looking very pretty thanks to his design by the very gifted Mr. Milne and later Mr. Lawrence.

least favorite thing about them: AND WHEN I STEP AWAY A BIT FROM MTMTE/LOST LIGHT I'M LIKE... ok so a big appeal of mtmte to me was how it was essentially a story about a bunch of nobodies, and unless you were a pretty big transformers fan to begin with, the main characters didnt really meant anything to you if you were a casual. You might knew Rodimus, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet, but they werent really... the transformers' most known characters, or the main ones. So bringing MEGATRON into the picture is like... he's A VERY BIG player in the cybertronian war, and he's like, the second or third most well known transformer, and suddenly the story has to resolve around him, because of course it does. Yknow that arc where the ticks that feeds on charisma just, spontaneously combust when he and roddy enters the room? That's it that's part of my problem, he's too big, he's a vortex of attention, and he just arrived so I don't really... care about him? And while that may change later because of his exposure, bringing him into the spotlight steals it from Rodimus, and it's extremely unfair to Roddy tho I'll admit I still have secondhand frustration about that. And then, it's not HIS fault per say, but because transformers will always hurt me when something good is going on, the rest of his development and ending (the ending of mtmte/lost light in general really) felt aborted and rushed because the reboot was on the horizon, and his redemption in particular really wasnt one to rush. Speaking of, I have no problem while reading it but. When I think about it, I am kinda :/ about him having a redemption on principle, it simultaneously feels like yeah the story succeded in selling it but also Not Really :/ :/ :/

favorite line: "I've heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering, and tonight I intend to make you very wise" because. come on.

brOTP: putting this in brOTP but I am not blind and I can see that he and Ultra Magnus/Minimus have A Vibe

OTP: I'm a very boring person who rarely multiship and I only like an extremely specific flavor of megop so. there you have it. you know I latched onto that one spacetime phonecall.

nOTP: I KNOW. I KNOW that if he had been ANYONE ELSE I would have NO PROBLEM with it I KNOW IT but there's something that simply prevent me from seeing him with Rodimus

random headcanon: okay it's been a hot minute since my last mtmte/lost light/idw re-reading so I'm kinda drawing a blank here.

unpopular opinion: he's very divisive so I feel every opinion on idw megatron is an unpopular one, but at the risk of repeating what I said above, I am kinda :/ :/ :/ at the fact that he gets to go on forever multi universal adventures with the rest of the cast at the end of the comics. Especially after the basically second chance at life he had in the functionist universe. Like, I get why but Idk I feel I wouldve enjoyed him more if he had been a temporary addition. But he was there for more than half of it and just. So much was dedicated to him. So. :/

song i associate with them: im so mad I KNOW there was a perfect idw megatron song but its been two years and I CANNOT remember it

favorite picture of them: panels that vibe check you into oblivion

[chokemeanakin]

Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader 👄💦 (smut)

Summary: Reader & Anakin see each other after being gone on a mission for weeks, they do some catching up iykwim. (Anakin’s a tease and reader is kinda shy woops) ((this is kinda vague. basically he eats your pussy like a champ👀))

masterlist

read it on ao3

You were disappointed to see that Anakin wasn’t in your room when you got back. You had both been deployed on separate missions to opposite ends of the galaxy, and hadn’t seen him in weeks. In fact, you hadn’t seen another human in weeks, except for the clones when they took their armor off. The planet you had been stationed on was inhabited by a race of squid-looking people, who were warm and welcoming to you-- that is, until you took off your hood and showed them that you were a female. Then their backward traditions came to light, and you had to stop yourself from returning to Coruscant and leaving the squid-people defenseless against the Separatists.

The amount of times you had been overlooked by their leaders, your words ignored and belittled just because you were a girl… it was ridiculous. They acted like you weren’t even there when you were the one in charge of the mission, and you didn’t even get a thank you after you drove the last Separatist ship away from their planet. One fellow had even requested you work in the sustenance unit, to put your hands to better use...

You didn’t think anyone still upheld those ideals, and you had no idea why the Republic wanted to defend people like that. 

It came to be that much more of a relief when you got to your ship that evening, finally leaving the planet only to see a hologram message from Anakin waiting for you. He, too, was done with his mission, and would be returning to Coruscant the same time as you.

Or at least, that’s what he said.

You sighed, closing the door behind you as you walked into your empty apartment. The call of Anakin’s name went unanswered, and none of the lights were on. Maybe he got held up somewhere.

You decided to take advantage of the time you had alone to wash up from the mission. Weeks of stress and turmoil washed off of you in the shower, replaced by honey scented soap. You got out of the shower and put on a t-shirt and underwear to sleep in. When you walked into your bedroom towel drying your hair, your breath caught in your throat.

“Anakin!”

Oh, it was so good to see him again. You dropped the towel and bounded onto the bed where he was laying with his legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded beneath his head. He switched the tv off when he saw you. “When did you get back?” 

His arms immediately wrapped around you, tucking you under his chin as you smooshed yourself into his chest. “Just a few moments ago. We had to take a slight detour to drop Plo Koon off at another station, but I raced here as fast as I could.”

“Thank god. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” his voice was soft, sincere, and you couldn’t help but answer it by tipping your chin up to capture his lips in a warm, lingering kiss.

His flesh hand lifted to cup your jaw, grazing your cheek with his thumb. God, you missed this. Feeling his hair tangled in your fingertips, reveling in the warmth of his body beneath your own, tasting his lips while tracing them with the tip of your tongue--

“Wait,” Anakin broke away, lips millimeters apart from yours. You opened your eyes to meet his, which were swimming with curiosity. “How did your mission go?”

“It was successful,” you offered vaguely, reaching back up to continue the kiss. He humored you for a moment, then pressed you back again. 

“Did you get the Separatists off the planet?”

“Of course I did,” you framed his lips with yours, harder so that he would just shut up and focus on you already. 

“Were you hurt?” somehow he had managed to pry you off once again. You let out a groan, headbutting his collarbone.

“No, I’m fine, now would you knock it off with the small talk and just kiss me? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years and right now I need you...”

Anakin’s face morphed into a sly grin at this.

“You need me, huh?”

“You have no idea how sexist those people were,” you mumbled, glaring at his neck. His hand shifted to the back of your head, lightly scratching the hair there which sent pleasurable tingles down your spine.

“I’m sorry… they’re kind of known for that. I thought the Council would have warned you at least.”

“Yeah, well, I never have to see them ever again,” you huffed, looking up at him. The sight of his face always seemed to take your breath away, but now you were melting under his sweet gaze with a newfound appreciation. He had always been nothing but generous and respectful toward you. Nothing like the irreverence you were treated with back at that planet. “Please, can we just…”

Anakin pressed his smile to your lips, finally giving in to your needs. You allowed yourself to fully melt into him, and now that he was just as invested as you, the kiss took on a whole new level of intensity. It started off soft, and slow, a ‘hello again’ after so much time apart. But soon he tilted your head to get a better angle, slipping his tongue past your lips to deepen the kiss. Your heartbeat picked up, hands fisting the material of his shirt as you shifted to sit on his lip. He, however, was not having that.

“Whoa--” you breathed as he hooked a leg around yours, flipping you around so your back was now on the bed and your head in the pillows. The bed bounced beneath you but he wasted no time in connecting his lips back to yours. He missed you too, you could feel it in the way he breathed you in, his hands running over every inch of your body like he was mapping it out for the first time.

You could stay right here, kissing him like this forever.

However, his mischievous fingers had other plans. He trailed them down your sides, over your hips, slipping under the material of your sleep shirt. He didn’t go up any further, ever the gentleman, instead just tracing the skin just above the elastic line of your underwear.

“No bra?” he pulled back an inch, smirking down at your very obviously prominent peaks. They were making an appearance from under your shirt, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m wearing pajamas, Anakin.”

“I’m not complaining,” he leaned back in, this time sneaking his hands higher and higher. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered alive, furiously flapping their wings in your stomach. But this was fine. This was okay. He had seen this part of you before, and he had loved it. There was no need to be shy about this.

Anakin’s hands cupped your breasts at the same time his teeth closed over your bottom lip, nibbling it lightly. You gasped, hooking a leg around his waist as you found yourself needing to be closer to him, needing more of him.

As his mouth drifted from your lips and painted a trail down your neck, you got to work undoing the belt he had on around his waist. It was hard work, especially when Anakin was distracting you with his lips sucking a mark into your neck and his hands massaging your breasts, but you managed to get the job done and flung the belt over the side of the bed.

“Off,” you ordered, pushing the leather armor off his shoulders and discarding it, too. Before you could get to the last layer, his hot mouth closed around your nipple over your shirt. The feeling made you gasp, and you wondered why he didn’t just take your shirt off. He was too preoccupied it seemed, too caught up in that one-track mind of his, his mission now set on a different location. He pushed your shirt up to your ribcage so he could plant open mouthed kisses to the skin of your navel, heading down, down, down.

“Wait--” you called out hoarsely, the butterflies tornadoing inside you with a vengeance. Anakin’s intentions were clear, but the thought of that was suddenly too much, it was too intense, you were too hot--

He stopped his descent immediately, lifting his head from the edge of your pantyline. His lips were red and swollen from kissing, bangs falling into his face, pupils almost black with lust. “Are you alright?”

“I...” It was those damn butterflies. They were always holding you back, always telling you that you shouldn’t. But you couldn’t help how nervous Anakin’s heated gaze made you, how the thought of him down there where no one else had ever been before simultaneously made you want to combust with humiliation and pleasure at the same time. “I’ve never done that before.”

He knew this. You had talked about it before, early on when you thought he’d expect something from you and then get bored and leave when you didn’t put out. But he didn’t do that, of course he didn’t, he was Anakin Skywalker. And he loved you too much to push you to do something you weren’t comfortable with.

“We can stop, if you’d like. Or we could go back to just kissing.”

There he goes again, being that perfect gentleman. So caring, so sweet, and so thoughtful of the way he was making you feel. He only ever tried to make you comfortable and happy, and you trusted him for that. Your mind began to work in overdrive, working through the butterflies, grasping desperately for a strand of confidence. What’s the worst that could happen, anyways? If you were going to do this with anyone, the obvious choice would be Anakin.

“No,” you could barely believe the word had made it past your lips. “I don’t want to stop.”

This surprised him too.

“Are you sure?” he pushed himself onto his elbows, furthering the distance between you two so you could think more clearly. “There’s no pressure to do anything tonight.”

“I said I wanted you,” you pushed him back down by the shoulders, his warmth returning to your skin. “I meant it.”

There was a flurry of activity in your gut in response to the wicked grin Anakin gave you.

Oh god… your mind screamed. What had you gotten yourself into.

“You can tell me to stop at any time,” he reminded you before leaning back down to press a wet kiss to your hip bone. “I mean it.”

Unable to trust your voice, you nodded.

He turned his full attention at mouthing the delicate skin of your hip, no doubt working a mark there as a reminder for tomorrow. He kissed across your belly, to your other hip, lightly nibbling as his hands ventured downward.

He skipped past your intimate area, to your relief, instead heading for the tops of your thighs. He squeezed reassuringly, hands sliding down to your knees. His lips followed in their wake, first kissing his way down your left leg, then your right. He was drawing it out for your sake or for his, you weren’t sure, but the longer he gave you, the more you were able to control the raging nerves screaming at you to back out.

And the more heat seemed to pool in your underwear.

No matter how anxious you were for Anakin to see your most private parts, the longing for his touch there overshadowed it. You were certain you wanted this, it was just getting there that was the hard part.

After returning to the top of your thigh of your right leg, Anakin tugged it open a couple inches, just so that he had enough room to continue his foray into the soft skin of your inner thigh. It was a new feeling, sensitive to the press of his lips and warmth of his tongue. You gripped the sheets, squirming in anticipation as he took his time exploring this new area you had given him.

Finally, he was done, and he hovered over your heat. You squeezed your eyes closed, waiting, waiting, waiting…

Suddenly there was a shadow over you, and you felt lips attach to the side of your neck again.

What the hell?

“Anakin?” you asked, fingers loosening their grip on the bed sheets. He hummed in acknowledgement, raising his face to be level with yours.

“I thought…”

His blue eyes stayed trained on you, waiting patiently for you to finish.

“I thought you were going to…”

“What?” He wasn’t being serious. “What do you want me to do to you?”

Of fucking course. He wanted you to say it. Because carrying through with it wasn’t embarrassing enough, he just had to make this harder for you.

You wanted to be mad at him, but the thing was… he had already gotten you all worked up. And now you couldn’t imagine backing out. Your core pulsed in time with your heart, pooling with heat, yearning for relief. You rolled your hips, hoping to get a bit of friction to no avail. You had no choice but to play his little game.

“I want you to…” you wracked your brain, searching for a way to say it without sounding disgusting and idiotic. Dirty talk was not your strong suit, and he knew it. “Kiss me.”

“You want me to kiss you?”

You nodded, cheeks blazing.

He leaned down and placed his lips on your quickly, gently, then pulled away.

“No…” you whined, the feeling in your womanhood intensifying with each moment it went unattended to. “Not there.”

“Then where?” his smile was wry, tone teasing. God, you were so going to get him back for this some day. 

He ducked his head to kiss the base of your neck, then looked up at you. “Here?”

“No.”

He hooked your shirt under his hands and lifted it over your head, then planted his lips on the exposed skin of your right breast. “Here?”

“No.”

He moved to the left. “Here?”

You moaned impatiently, shaking your head as you tried pushing yourself upward on the bed to get him to his destination faster. He locked you in place with an iron grip to your hips.

“Here?” he questioned innocently, pressing a kiss to your sternum.

“No.”

You don’t know how long he spent peppering teasing kisses all over your body, but it was enough to get you writhing under him, each swipe of his lips burning more than the last. By the time he got to the place you desired most, you were a right mess.

“Here?” he looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eyes, the feeling of his breath on you sending shockwaves through your body. He was so close, so close, if you just tilted your hips up a little bit… He pinned them to the bed.

“Yes,” you panted. “There, please there.”

His face twisted into a wry smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Your breath caught in your throat with the first touch of his tongue on your underwear. The contact was so light, you could barely feel it over the material. You looked down at him, watching him drag his tongue in the softest line from your hole to your clit. There was that pressure, that sweet, delectable pressure, but you needed more--

“So eager…” he purred, lips ghosting over your nub. You weren’t sure how much more of this torture you could take. If you had known Anakin would have been this much of a tease…

He suddenly pressed his palms to the insides of your thighs, spreading them. Then, he dipped his fingers under the elastic band of your underwear, and pulled them down your legs. Your cheeks burned furiously as you saw a string of slick connect your throbbing core to your panties.

“Fuck,” Anakin breathed, biting his lip. His eyes were trained so intently on you, on the most intimate part of you. You couldn’t bear to watch. You laid back flat, covering your eyes with your arm to hide yourself.

Your heart began slamming against your ribs as you felt his arms hooks under your thighs, keeping them spread apart, and pulling you closer to him. You could feel his breath on you for real now, nothing in the way. And it was making you absolutely fall apart.

His fingers made first contact with you. He thumbed apart your slit, looking at your opening.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured before swiping a thumb over it, collecting the wetness. His touch was extremely gentle as he spread it over your clit. 

It was hard to swallow. Your face was feverish, your body sweating and writhing and yearning for his touch. He had you locked in his iron grasp, forcing you to take the little he gave you.

It seemed like an eternity before he finally, finally, finally lowered his mouth to you.

The feeling was heaven. A whimper escaped your mouth before you could stop it, and you bit down on your arm to muffle the rest of your sounds as his lips pressed an open mouthed kiss to your core. His tongue darted out, sliding between your folds, tasting you. He hummed in appreciation, the vibrations pleasuring you further.

You wanted to move, to grind against his face, to get him to that pulsing nub that was begging for attention. But his arms around your thighs were holding you so tight, there was no room for leeway. He worked at an agonizingly slow pace, continuing his teasing torture as you fell apart beneath him.

“Anakin,” you hissed, sucking in a breath. He trailed a line down now, tracing your hole with his tongue. “Anakin, please.”

 “I’ve got you, baby,” the words were murmured into you, his lips wet with your slick. You cried out when he licked up to your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking it lightly into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you cursed, back curving off the bed. You bit down on the flesh of your wrist, gripping at the bedsheets so hard your fingers went numb with the other. He did it again, kissing the sensitive bundle of nerves like he would your mouth before twirling his tongue around it. You were fully wrecked beneath him, even before he began to circle your entrance with his flesh finger.

“This okay?” he asked, and the sight of his eyes locked on you while his head was between  your legs, lips wet with your pleasure, was almost enough to send you over the edge. You nodded, mewling in bliss as he slowly sunk his finger in.

This wasn’t supposed to feel so good. 

You had tried fingering yourself alone before, as most people explore their bodies. But the angle was just never right, your finger not long or thick enough, and you never really felt anything. Now, though-- now it was like nothing you had ever experienced before.

His lips returned to your clit, massaging it with that talented tongue of his. Your breathing was erratic, body trembling, unsure of how to handle so much pleasure at once. 

“Does that feel good?” Anakin purred against your heat. “Mm? Yeah?”

You whimpered around your arm, nodding your head.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart,” he removed his mouth and suddenly pressed down on your clit with his mechanical thumb. Fireworks erupted behind your eyes, your nub pulsing against the metal. 

You released your arm from your teeth, noting the many crescent marks now engraved into your skin. “Yes, it feels good,” you mewled. “It feels so good.”

“Good girl,” he rewarded you by flicking your clit with his thumb and sinking his finger back into you at the same time. You cried out in ecstasy, balling the bedsheets into your fists. “You think you can take another?”

You nod furiously, already feeling the second digit begin to stretch you open. You’d never been able to fit two fingers before, but he seemed to slide in with little effort. The feeling of being full-- at least this full-- was amazing. Especially when he swiveled his fingers around, getting you used to the feeling, searching for a spot in your walls.

It felt like you had been struck by lightning. The sudden pleasure had you wail in surprise, keening around his fingers as he rocked them smooth and slow in and out of you, hitting that spot every time. With each pump, you saw white.

“That’s it, baby, just like that,” he encouraged you, knowing you were close to finishing. The feeling had been building up for a while now, and you were so close, so high up on the cliff, teetering over the edge, but he kept holding back that last bit that would send you over. It was purposeful, you knew, and the frustration sent tears to your eyes.

He mouthed at your clit again, warm and wet and good, but as soon as he felt you clench around him he would pull back, denying you of relief.

Sounds left your mouth that you didn’t even know you could make. Whimpering, mewling, gasping, panting, moaning. The pleasure was so intense that you dug your hands into his hair, trying to push his head away from you. He responded by pinning your arms to the bed above your head with the force. You really were at his full mercy now, being forced to just take it.

You couldn’t even beg him to make you cum because you couldn’t form words anymore.

Suddenly, his fingers pressed in deep and hard against that spot. It would have had you shooting off the bed if he wasn’t holding you to it. At the same time, his mouth suctioned around your clit, tongue lapping it as he sucked it into his mouth. Your eyes rolled back into your head, body tensing up with each muscle as waves and waves of pleasure slammed into you. Your breath caught in your throat, cutting off your moan as your back arched impossibly off the bed. Your voice returned in a drawn out whimper as you desperately rutted against him, riding out your orgasm.

You came so hard reality left you for a couple seconds. You forgot where you were, what your name was, who’s hand you were suddenly crushing between your fingers-- all you knew was the pleasure.

You couldn’t hear for a couple of minutes after coming down. Your head was pounding and there was a slight ring in your ears, that was it. Slowly, your senses returned to you, your body stopped twitching with aftershocks, and you fell limp.

Anakin carefully tugged his fingers out of you, and released your thighs. He gently closed them and crawled up next to you, slipping an arm under your head to pull you into his body.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he kissed the wet trail your tears had made on your cheeks. You turned your head to meet his lips, wanting to taste the shiny slick coating them. 

Right now, you had been reduced to useless mush. But once you got control over your body again, you were going to get him back for the sweet, agonizing torture he had just put you through.

[sebbybooks]

Never Mine

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

Part One

"With my dog as my witness, to whoever was riding my ass if they didn't back off my bumper I was going to stop in the middle of the road and rip their windshield wipers completely off!"

That type of anger coiled around me like a snake, because there was nothing that bugged me more than someone driving bumper to bumper. The long and exasperated breath I just released helped ease the tension out of my body temporarily. Just in time for reason to settle in. Though in reality it wasn't like I was actually going to jump out of my car and confront this road demon. Who clearly needed to take a course on etiquettes of the road. What I did know was that whoever was behind the wheel of the car had headlights that were so blinding I am sure extraterrestrials in space could spot them.

Trying to find the calm in the situation I focused on the road ahead of me. What little road I could see for that matter. Which wasn't exactly much. I had checked the forecast earlier in the day with the report of it showing that there was to be only clear and blue skies. By the amount of downpour before me you would think there was a tear in the sky if that was how rain fell. I just needed to hang tight for a few more miles until I reached my exit to stop for the night.

I had been driving for nine consecutive hours and it wasn't until the third hour I realized I was not cut out for long distance driving. The plane ticket I turned down from my father was starting to look like a missed opportunity. I opted out for Cooper's sake. I just rescued the little guy a few short weeks ago and I didn't have the heart to leave him alone so soon.

Despite having only six more hours of this painful drive I needed out of my car. A hot shower and a bed was calling my name like a siren's call was to a dazed sailor at sea. I was fervidly drawn to it. Granted, I wasn't exactly going the speed limit in my own defense. Simply because I chose to be a cautious driver not a careless one unlike the dip shit behind me. Cooper and I were going to get to Sonoma, California in one piece if I had anything to do with it! I had no intention to speed in the rain even if it annoyed the person behind me. After all I was driving down a one lane road there was literally nothing else I could do but drive forward.

Taking a glance up at my trusty Garmin my gps projected that at this rate I wouldn't make it to my hotel for another hour and a half. Ahead of me the sky was starting to look like a terrifying shade of gray and to top it off the dismal weather was becoming more and more hard to drive in. I could barely see the paint on the pavement. My defrosters seemed to have given up on me as I began to notice that my rearview mirror fogged up as though it was twilight hour.

I needed to pull over to try to wait out the heavy rainfall. The only problem was that I did not know where I was nor could I see where the road even had an end. The cheap gas station coffee was starting to wear off and the pep talks could no longer motivate me. The words of encouragement quickly transitioned into self deprecating quips of "I can not fucking do this!"

I was too far from home to turn back now and hearing a lecture from my dad despite being well beyond the ages of even receiving one, certainly would not stop him from scolding at my absence. I am more than certain that fiancée number three would not mind if I missed their prenuptial celebration. Especially if arriving on time meant I would be showing up dismembered. It was official I was going to die in this storm.

All of sudden like I called upon a bad omen my tiny Kia Forte jerked forward. I thought I accidentally stomped on the gas pedal too hard without realizing it. When it happened again I knew exactly what it was. Clearly the driver had mistaken this for a game of bumper cars. I laid the palm of my hand on the center of my steering wheel and relentlessly pressed my horn. Not sure what that was going to necessarily ward off , but I had to try something in the efforts that they would leave me alone.

Cooper's head shot up from his bed in the backseat. He looked just as displeased and annoyed as I felt. Why wouldn't they slow down? Is the question I could not figure out. I don't know if it was all the Stephen King that I read, but my paranoia was increasing as I started to settle on the possibility that they were now following me.

Maybe I was tired?

Maybe my imagination truly was getting the best of me?

Or maybe whoever that person was also suddenly decided to take the same random exit as I was taking.

I didn't think. I veered my car off to the right and got on the first breakaway from this seemingly endless road. I had no idea where I was headed at this point and neither did my Garmin. It made multiple attempts to reroute itself, but even that could not locate where I was. I took an unexpected detour by driving off into the middle of nowhere with a now stalker in my midsts.

Adrenaline now filling up my bloodstream. I gave my steering wheel the death grip and drove as fast as the tire tracks of my car would guide me. On a midsize billboard to my left I saw a logo for a gas station and a non franchised bed & breakfast saying it was right up the road. I was taking a chance by trusting that the establishment was clean and safe. I just needed to go where a crowd of people would be. The battery on my phone was likely dead and yes this was now becoming the opening sequence for a King novel. I'd laugh if my heart wasn't fluttering as fast a hummingbird's wing.

I managed to make out lights ahead as I neared the petrol station first. However, it just about looked abandoned. The dim white lights flickered around the desolate parking lot. I saw only two freight trucks parked side by side and I immediately thought

. . .hell no.

I kept driving forward in the hopes that the bed and breakfast sign wasn't last updated in the early nineties. I nearly combusted from relief when I finally saw it. Several cars and mini vans lined up with people inside of them probably doing the same thing that I was. I didn't plan on staying the night I just planned on staying long enough to hide out from the rain and from the trouble that still followed my trails.

Luckily there were free parking spaces close to the entrance. It was still hard to make out what the place truly looked like. From my view in the car the rain made it look like it was a melting oil painting. In a swift motion I put my car in park, turned my ignition off, reached in the back to grab Cooper and grabbed ahold of my purse in the other arm. I bolted out of my car for the door.

It felt as though I was running through a hurricane. I was completely drenched. I could barely keep my eyes from closing as I ran up the slippery steps in my worn Toms praying that I wouldn't eat concrete. There was an awning over the door that offered relief from the storm's cruel embrace . Looking down at the fuzzy brown welcome mat I noticed a quote was scribbled out on it.

"some beautiful paths

can't be discovered without getting lost."

As I reached for the doorknob I couldn't help but notice the intricate design. I'm aware of how wrong the timing was to fawn over something so utterly mundane. I just could not conceal the fact that I was a sucker for antiques roadshow and architectural designing. Growing up with a dad that built and reconstructed vintage furniture one might pick up on the interest. It was a white privacy doorknob with hand painted roses, with a Victorian long plated silver keyhole. The sound of distant car door slamming snapped me out of my daze. I turned my head in the direction of the sound low and behold it was that same car. Crazy thing is I didn't see anyone by it.

Instinct guided me forward considering my brain was scrambling with worry. I ushered myself inside and it was as though I fell into a pink wonderland. From the pink carpet to the multicolored pink pinstripe wallpaper. Hot pink roses seemed to have been the main theme for the lobby. There were various black and silver picture frames with photos of pink roses hanging on every wall. On every surface my eyes could catch, red and pink plastic roses sat in circular olive green vases. It was certainly....something. I thought I was doing the most logical thing by coming inside, but it quickly dawned on me that I saw no one around.

"Hello?" I cautiously called out.

I paced myself as I walked up to the front desk, simultaneously looking around for any potential red flags. My right arm was going numb, my little guy was tiny but felt like I was lugging around a sack of potatoes. I wandered away from the desk to poke my head around the place. There was a entry way that led to a dinning area with a handful of seats adorned with of course pink table settings. I was standing next to a spiral staircase to what I assumed led to the rooms. There was only one door that held a sign for a bathroom. Perhaps there was a power outlet I could use long enough to charge my phone to call my dad.

The same door I walked in swung open and droplets of rain was blown in by the wind. A shiver rolled down my spine, sending a myriad of sparks that shot through my body. Turning around a strange sensation filled the pits of my stomach. It felt like butterflies and moths had taken up space there. Excitement and fear. I just stood completely mute like I had never seen a man before. Well to my defense I hadn't seen ones that look like him in my town. Without even seeing my reflection I had an inkling as to the state of my appearance. I was utterly perplexed by how he pulled off the kissed by an ocean look. To embarrass myself further of course my dog chose that moment to shake water off of his fur on to me.

"Really Coop?" I tried to hide my disgust, but he got it around the corner of my mouth! The good looking stranger offered a half smile that probably pitied my overall state.

"Is the black Kia parked out yours?" Even his voiced oozed sex appeal. He angled his frame so he could face me. There was about an arm length of distance between us. His eyes practically bore into my face I suppose waiting for me to say something. Must have been the buzzcut, the facial scuff, or the fact that some creep was still parked outside waiting to do who knows what. But my thoughts were not where they should have been.

I blinked and straightened up my posture. "Yeah why?" I finally answered.

It was a causal question, yet it felt completely random like there was something else to it.Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.The silence was so thick it would take a hacksaw to cut through.

"Well I'll be damned! I didn't think I would get to see you until after you got back from your trip in California." A woman most likely in her late sixties came rushing down the stairs for him. She draped her arms around his body clearly taking him by surprise. Her cotton candy colored pink bouffant made up for most of her height. Sebastian returned her embrace. Although it looked extremely awkward considering he stared at me the whole time and I stood there watching.

"Moe's old truck didn't give you too much trouble did it?" She asked.

"No it still got some life left in it." Sebastian's jaw went slack and he looked from her to me once more. Only this time he was looking at me with a cold glare. Realization suddenly crashed into me like a wild horse.

[seyaryminamoto]

One of the big things about "The Beach" to me is that it seems to suggest that Zuko may be the least empathetic among the Fire teens. Azula shows the most empathy to her brother and her friends, Ty Lee shows the second most, Mai the third most, and Zuko the least. So the point of the episode was to portray the three girls sympathetically while highlighting Zuko's limitations. The issue then is that they never really went back to Zuko's lack of empathy. Thoughts?

Eh, well... the show refuses to go back on a lot of Zuko’s exposed flaws, no matter how they may be highlighted and shown as a problem, so I guess I’d just say what’s one more, in the end, among a pile of many unresolved personal issues? :’D

I think some people would try to argue that Azula wasn’t empathetic at all, but I’d say the key element in these regards is that Azula seemed to backtrack at least once with Ty Lee when she apologizes to her after reducing her friend to tears with her harsh words. It’s fair enough that Azula was very insulting, but she takes it back quickly and admits she knows what her actual problem is, implying there’s self-reflection, self-awareness and remorse enough to not only acknowledge her behavior was out of place, but to know why she impulsively acted the way she did.

Meanwhile, Zuko mocks and calls Ty Lee a circus freak (and, yes, Azula laughs about it), and nothing he says suggests he regrets hurting her. That, honestly, is the core of the problem as far as I can tell: maybe Zuko felt bad for saying what he did? But nowhere in the episode will you find him saying it aloud, which is the typical Zuko issue: more than once he does genuine damage with his actions or words to real people, whether people who were kind to him or people who should be important to him, and he barely ever vocalizes any apologies or remorse for those actions. Heck, right after insulting Ty Lee he tries to rile up Mai to fight Ty Lee because she insulted Mai’s aura? And all of it really is reduced to “he’s angry at himself”. See... I don’t mind the explanation one bit. But I do mind that he not only faces next to no consequences for that behavior (since merely acknowledging what he’s angry about is no actual display of remorse for how he behaved), but he also displays no signs of change or wanting to act differently, and the whole thing’s swept under a rug just because his firebending outburst looks very cool and dramatic. Thus, yes, it’s very easy to conclude, as you did, that Zuko lacks empathy and fails to recognize this as a problem altogether.

Though I will disagree with you in one regard and that is Mai. I... don’t think she displayed any empathy, frankly. She’s more down-to-earth than the others, I’d say, but the way she talks to both Azula and Ty Lee doesn’t really suggest any empathy to me. She’s adamant about making sure Zuko knows she’s mad at him, and while she kisses him at the end, it’s not some sort of “omg I’m so sorry Zuko I didn’t stop to think about your feelings :(((” sort of kiss, it’s a way of showing him she cares about him even if he’s a trainwreck... which, sure, might make Zuko happier, but it doesn’t necessarily mean she “understands” him or is particularly invested in helping him out of his cycle of self-hatred.

I guess that’s one potential factor why Zuko and Mai are so conflictive in canon, I don’t think either one is particularly empathetic with the other -- or with anyone else, maybe except Iroh in Zuko’s case, and only in Book 3. This is certainly why the two of them really should grow up, A LOT, before being in a relationship, but I suppose it’s one thing where ATLA is ironically terrible and brilliant simultaneously: they don’t sugarcoat how conflictive they can be, the way a fanfic writer might reduce their problems to nothingness and absolute irrelevance just because they ship it. So their relationship is absolutely not “romance goals”, but it feels like a genuine teenage romance because of that.

Still, that’s not what we’re talking about: I agree on the most part, Anon, though I suspect the conclusion you’ve reached, and that many of us can and will reach, isn’t quite what the writers and showrunners intended for us to conclude with that episode. We’ve always heard that Book 3 was supposed to feature a storyline about Azula being arranged in marriage to someone, a plotline that was scrapped because she would have had far more focus than they could afford giving her (and what a mistake that was xD). This episode is said to be a minimized version of that plotline, to explore these characters and their dynamics (as well as introducing the factor of Combustion Man’s hunt of Aang, which starts in this episode), only, it may have highlighted a few issues with the characters (especially with Zuko) that simply aren’t dealt with properly, probably because this episode wasn’t intended to do that. Sadly, many episodes weren’t intended to do that with Zuko :’)

A lot of people have criticized The Beach for a myriad of reasons, most of all that the episode is “meaningless filler” (I couldn’t disagree more, but not everyone can appreciate downtime for characters, not even when it expands your understanding of who they are), or that the Fire Nation gang shouldn’t be framed as a happy group of friends we all should love when they vandalized and burned down a house just because they were mad at perfectly innocent (if dumb) teenagers :’D but I guess maybe one secret reason some Zuko fans might not be happy with this episode is that it really doesn’t paint him in a good light altogether and they’re appalled by that? 

Either way, I genuinely enjoy this episode because it humanized the characters, I’d say, and whether that humanization was flattering or not isn’t quite the most important element of the character work that was done this time. I guess I’ll spiral back to what I said above with Mai and Zuko: the show doesn’t sugarcoat the problems these four have, just as it doesn’t attempt to resolve them. Would I rather it had resolved them, at least a few of them? Personally, yes, though I doubt they could have done it in the span of a single episode. At the same time, I’m glad they didn’t hide these problems in the characters because they easily could have, so I’m grateful they didn’t do that. As usual, the problem with Zuko lies in the fact that a lot of people credit him with growth he never did, and values that he never displayed, that we would have to assume he learned just because he’s a better person now, not so much because we have solid evidence that proves he learned them at all. So it’s yet another issue with his character, and another thorn that pokes out of his redemption arc that shows it’s absolutely not as perfect and well-rounded as most his fans (and a lot of ATLA viewers) have convinced themselves it is.

[samanthadalton]

Truth or dare

(this is loosely based on the truth or dare scene from the freshman where mc and kaitlyn kissed for the first time) 

sorry if it sucks im still getting used to writing 😬😬

Pairing: poppy x mc (Bea) 

warnings: i’m not sure there’s any actual warnings except for any implied sex near the end

tag list: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in (if you wanna be tagged in any future writings just ask)

word count: i have no idea tbh i got carried away

You were lying on the couch in your dorm room scrolling through instagram trying to find some entertainment since Zoey apologetically told you she’s ditching your saturday plans of drinking wine and binge-watching how to get away with murder since she had a hot date with one of the guys on the football team. You find yourself scrolling through Poppy’s instagram- not because you liked her or anything- i mean liking Poppy your number 1 enemy?? that was a big hell no 👁👄👁- you were just merely curious about her new brand deal with Read My Lips since Veronica mentioned that the brand in reality was pretty crap and made both her and Poppy break out like crazy. 

Speaking (or thinking really) of the devil, you suddenly get a text from Veronica:

V.: Hey social climber you got any plans tonight 👀

you: not really no, why? you finally taking me up on my offer 😉

V.: You wish Farmsville, come over to the sorority tonight 

you: still sounds like you want me 

V.: Guess you’ll have to come and find out 💋

You put your phone down and internally debate with yourself as to whether or not you should go since this is the first time Veronica has ever asked to hang out with you and you’re not sure about her intentions. ‘Well she’s hot and wants me there so I should go’ You dismiss any negative thoughts from your head and decide to head over to the sorority house dressed casually in a pair of dark blue ripped jeans and a black cropped t-shirt and black vans- you didn’t forget to wear your super sexy black laced lingerie since anything could happen tonight, except you didn’t expect this outcome....

You text Veronica as you make your way to the sorority and she texts you back with a thumbs up and tells you to just make your way inside and meet her in the living room. You begin to worry a little since you’re not sure if the rest of the Zeta girls will be at the house, and you were kinda hoping to have a chilled out night with Veronica or at least some fun without anyone else knowing about it.

You enter the house and make your way into the living room where you see a bunch of the zeta girls sitting in a circle, some sitting on the sofa while others are on the floor with pillows and blankets to make themselves more comfortable. Your mind stutters because this isn’t exactly what you were expecting but you’re soon pulled out of your thoughts when Veronica grabs you by your arms and drags you into the middle of the room, “Hughes you made it!” she squeaks.

“Veronica what the hell, what’s going o-“

“What the hell is she doing here?” You already know who it is judging by the cutthroat tone, though she doesn’t raise her voice, Poppy Min Sinclair has the ability to slice through anything just using her words. Without missing a beat Veronica loops her arms through yours and spins you around to face the queen of belvoire herself.

“I invited her here, I thought it would be more fun to include someone who isn’t part of the sorority”

“So you thought to invite wannabee Hughes” Poppy crosses her arms and of course her trusty little pup is there too and a second later she crosses her arms too.

“Eww Veronica you can’t just invite random people who knows what farm diseases she has”

You roll your eyes at Chloe, I mean seriously is that the best she can come up with? You step forward and Veronica lets go of your arm.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on but if this is meant to be some weird hazing or sorority prank I don’t wanna be a part of it”

“Don’t worry Bea, we are just playing truth or dare” Taylor squeaks out, you turn and face her, bless the poor girl she looks like she’s about to combust from embarrassment after Poppy clears her throat.

Poppy looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “shut up Tess, but colour me intrigued let’s see what kind of secrets Farmsville is hiding”

She begins looking at you with a little curiousity and starts to take in your outfit, “someone get her some proper clothes if she’s going to stay”

Its only then you realise that the zeta girls aren’t wearing their usual preppy outfits but are all wearing some cute nightwear and you realise you stick out like a sore thumb.

“Don’t worry P, since I invited her i’ll get her some clothes” Veronica takes hold of your arms and pulls you to her room.

After finding some suitable clothing for you (a white silk tank top with a cute lace around the neckline and some pink silk shorts) Veronica leaves you in her room to get changed and soon you make your way back downstairs to the circle where the girls are casually drinking wine in some very expensive looking crystal glasses.

“Tess, get Farmsville a drink” Poppy practically barks and Taylor runs to grab you a glass. You sit on the floor next to Veronica while Poppy and Chloe sit opposite you on the sofa and the other girls fill up the rest of the circle.

Once everyone begins drinking, Poppy abruptly claps her hands together and all the girls lift up their heads to look at the blonde, “now ladies we can finally begin” her eyes move to yours “and since it’s wannabee’s first time here you start, truth or dare”.

gulp.

If you choose truth, Poppy has the chance to ask you anything but if you pick dare she could make you do anything, you decide to pick the safest (or the safer one) option and choose

“truth”

Poppy’s eyes bore into yours while she thinks of a question, however Chloe hiccups (she must be a total lightweight bc she already seems kinda drunk) and speaks out “do you have a crush on Professor Kingsley, I see the way you look at her”

Poppy looks slightly annoyed that Chloe took her opportunity to ask you a question and covertly digs her nails into Chloe whose face just turns bright pink.

You on the other hand begin sweating a little since you can’t exactly be too truthful and tell them you slept with her before the school year began so you give a careful smile and answer, “I mean she is hot who wouldn’t have a crush on her”

The rest of the girls already seem bored since the answer wasn’t exactly satisfying so you turn to Veronica

“I guess it’s my turn to ask, truth or dare”

.....

After a bunch of rounds of truth or dare, in which you learnt that Taylor has some really weird sex fantasies and Chloe once knocked herself out by walking into a lamppost, while Veronica was forced to upload a picture of herself pretending to throw up in the toilet and a few of the other girls were forced to either eat a bunch of chillies and prank call Dean Steinhelm, it’s finally Poppy’s turn.

“I think I should ask Poppy, truth or dare” you smirk smugly at the blonde while she just looks unimpressed and merely just shrugs

“Go ahead Hughes, I choose truth”

You think carefully, I mean you could ask her anything, however there’s one thing that’s been eating up your mind and you just have to ask

“Do you really love Bradley”

Poppy just scoffs, “seriously? that’s what you wanted to waste your question on?”

She raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of your angle since she knows you could’ve literally asked her anything. she keeps her answer short and unfulfilling, “It’s a new relationship so I wouldn’t say I love him”

And then she just doesn’t say anything else, she looks down at her drink and carefully sips her wine while you just stare at her trying to calculate what you can take from her answer.

Veronica snaps you out of your thoughts and slightly slurs her words, “My turn Hughes, truth or dare?”

“dare”

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room”

damnit. one thing you were trying to avoid was awkward and/or forced intimacy or contact with these girls. Your eyes shift between each girl trying to buy some time before you’re expected to make a move.

Your eyes fall on Poppy’s and as your eyes meet, her dark brown eyes open wide when she realises what you’re thinking. But she doesn’t look mad or disgusted, instead she looks kinda intrigued and a little smirk appears on her face like she’s flattered you chose her.

You crawl over to the sofa where Poppy is sitting and all eyes are on you now.

“Well indulge me Miss Min Sinclair?” You give Poppy a cheeky little wink and she visibly blushes.

“Shut up Hughes don’t make it awkward, it’s just a kiss”

You deflate a little, “right, it’s just a kiss”

You lean up a little to reach the blonde’s lips and you tentatively brush your lips against one another.

‘Damn her lips are soft’ you think to yourself and when you suddenly get a taste of her strawberry lipgloss you begin to lose control. You open your mouth to kiss her harder while Poppy takes a sharp breath and opens her mouth to allow your tongue inside her mouth. She moans a little and you swear it’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard and you kiss her even harder, lips pressing together full of passion. You finally break apart from the kiss, both gasping for the much needed air and you both stare intensely at each other momentarily forgetting where you are.

The spell is broken by someone clearing their throat and you turn to see Veronica frowning slightly, “damn I wish I had my phone right now, that was so hot my Veronicats would’ve loved that”

You and Poppy awkwardly look at each other and both blushing furiously, you look away simultaneously and you make your way back to your side of the circle.

You think to yourself ‘what the hell was that’ while Poppy already looks like she’s ready to move on. With a flip of her hair she clears her throat, “well it’s pretty obvious I’m the hottest one here so I don’t blame Farmsville for wanting to get a taste.”

You think to yourself ‘that was more than a taste’. While reeling back from the epic kiss you don’t even have a comeback but luckily drunk Chloe is there to rescue you from this awkward moment by shouting “MY TURN!”

The rest of the night seems to go on without anything else as scandalous as that kiss happening, excluding Chloe falling face down on the floor when she was trying to get to the bathroom and eventually the zeta girls begin to make their way to bed after drinking way too much.

You’re left with only Veronica and Poppy in the living room and when you get up to stand you feel a little dizzy, you blink crazily and groan “damn i think i drank way too much”

“It’s cool Hughes you can crash on the couch tonight there’s no way you can get back to your dorm like this” and with that Veronica pats your back and makes her way to her room leaving you alone with Poppy.

Poppy just sits on the sofa watching Veronica leave and you clear your throat which gets her attention. She turns her head to look at you, and her eyes check you out, almost like she’s contemplating.

You try and dispell some of the awkwardness since Poppy is just staring at you and you jokingly say “well that kiss was pretty good huh?”

Poppy pouts her lips a little and raises one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you, “just pretty good?” her tone almost teasing.

You almost falter a little in your gaze, was Poppy flirting with you or was it just the alcohol making you delirious? “Well, considering it was cut short and there was an entire audience watching us I guess it wasn’t exactly my best”

“Oh? So you think you can do better than that?” Poppy slowly stands and walks towards you, you swear that she juts her hips a little as she makes her way to stand right in front of you.

You begin to feel flustered and just manage to gape your mouth open with no words coming out of it. Poppy simply smirks at your bewildered expression while her fingers slowly trail up your arm and she leans in and whispers into your ear, “why don’t you show me”

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

seasons with you

summary: the first year of your relationship with Brett is breathtakingly easy; the seasons pass in a blink of an eye.

warnings: none

word count: 4.6k

note from the writer: I’m in love with this idea and this sweetheart

FALL

“Are you excited for tonight?”

The question was probably a dumb one. Of course, a professional hockey player was excited for the opening night of the season. But you had to ask, because you were absolutely ecstatic about it and wanted an in to express it. Brett probably knew already, you had been at his apartment for fifteen minutes to spend some time with him before he had to leave for the rink and the entire time you had been bouncing from room to room.

“I’m excited that you finally get to come see me play.” Brett teased as he exited his bedroom in his game day suit. Your relationship was new, a little more than a month, but you were certain that you’d never get used to just how handsome he was. There had been preseason games, but between work and school you hadn’t had the chance to make it to one yet. Though, you had opening night circled on your calendar with a promise that you’d be there.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You grinned, pulling Brett in the moment he started to lean down for a kiss. You were certain you would never be able to deny him anything, and you didn’t want to when his lips felt as sweet as they did against yours. Kissing him was easy, just like everything else when it came to Brett.

“Did you see where the tickets I got you are?” He questioned, pulling away just enough to mumble the words against your lips before stealing another peck.

“I did, and I don’t even want to know how much they cost you.” You shook your head, retreating back to the kitchen where you had been snacking on the limited amount of food in his cupboards. “Ice level seats at the Garden on opening night? Probably more than my rent.”

Your comment earned a laugh and a shake of the head from Brett, and the sound alone was enough to bring a smile to your face. Though you weren’t exactly the most comfortable with him spending money on you, you knew how much it meant to him that you were there. He leaned down for another kiss, and suddenly all your problems melted away.

Hours later and you found yourself sitting in the very seats Brett had gotten you. It didn’t take much brain power for you to figure out why he had chosen that spot. It was in the Rangers warm up area, with a hole on the plexiglass where a cameraman usually stood right in front of you.

The stadium came alive as the home team skated onto the ice, and though it was mesmerizing how they managed to skate in circles so seamlessly without running into each other, your gaze was trained on your boyfriend. He spotted you immediately, his smile widening as soon as you locked eyes, but he took a few laps and some shots on goal before skating over to you.

“Hi.” He spoke through the camera hole loud enough so you were able to hear him. A few more people crowded around you, but otherwise it was just the two of you. “I like that jersey.”

“Thanks, my boyfriend made me wear it.” You teased, tugging at the bottom of the white jersey you had gotten a week prior. The number twenty-one and Howden were emblazoned on the back, no doubt Brett was having a field day seeing you in his number.

You wouldn’t have minded chatting with him for the rest of warm ups, but Kreider decided to mess with Brett and checked him into the glass in front of you. The older player smiled and gave you a wave, before skating off with little more than a playful shove from your boyfriend.

Brett gave you a smile before returning back to the warm ups, and you watched as he skated around with a lightness and ease you had only seen through your television screen before. He was grinning the whole time, stopping by your seat no less than six times before they had to get off the ice to prepare for the game.

And as much as you loved admiring Brett, when he wasn’t on the ice your focus was on the action. And there was a lot of action. The Rangers scored first, Zibanejad with a one timer, and you cheered along with an entire stadium. But then the Penguins managed to tie the game just before the end of the first period. Five minutes into the second, the Penguins scored again, but the score was evened quickly after with a slapshot from Trouba.

You slumped on your seat when the Penguins scored again, and held your breath when the play was reviewed. The crowd let out a simultaneous groan the moment they heard that the call on the ice stands, that it was a good goal, and you joined in. The second period ended with the visiting team up one, but then the third started off with a bang. Buchnevich with a tip-in and an assist from Kreider.

Time was running out and with the game tied, everytime anyone got a shot anywhere near the goal you were gripping the seat in anticipation. A minute and thirty seconds left on the clock, you had practically resigned yourself to the fact that this game would be going into overtime.

But then, the Rangers and the Penguins were making a line change and there must have been a mistake on the guest bench because suddenly the Rangers were on a breakaway. Your heart stopped in your chest as you spotted who had the puck—Brett. He was making a breakaway attempt on goal with time dwindling away and the closest defender was seven paces behind him. The crowd grew louder as he got closer, and you were pretty sure you weren’t breathing but that didn’t matter at the moment because—

Top shelf, blocker side.

You don’t really remember when you jumped to your feet, or when you started screaming, but it didn’t matter because your voice was lost in the rioting stadium. Brett was skating, away from the goal and away from his teammates you were rushing to celebrate with him and it took you a moment to realize he was skating towards you.

He slammed into the glass in front of you, smiling and pointing at you for a second before his linemates were on him and crushing him into a hug. You slammed on the glass, excitement and adrenaline rushing through you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he led his linemates to the bench for high fives. He looked so happy and you couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to go to one of his games.

The final buzzer sounded and the crowd was still cheering from Brett’s goal, and you knew you could take your time heading down to the locker room area to meet him. No doubt he was going to have interviews, he played amazingly, got the game winning goal, and was even named second star of the game.

When he finally came out he was grinning from ear to ear and wasted no time in pulling you in for a hug.

“Congratulations!” You cheered while still pressed into his chest. You could feel him chuckle and press a kiss to the top of your head, and you pulled back just enough so he could land his next one on your lips.

When he finally pulled back and let you go, you didn’t move far. Your arms were still loosely around his torso, and he had one around your shoulders. He was smiling down at you, and though he usually was, the win and the goal on opening night clearly had put him in a great mood. And when he spoke next, you could hear his joy in his words, coupled with an honesty that had you leaning into him more.

“You’re my good luck charm.”

WINTER

“This is why I moved to the city.”

Your comment earned a confused look from your boyfriend, but you didn’t mind. He was still grinning at you though, but you barely noticed as you took in the city around you.

“Because of the lights?” He questioned, looking between the string lights set up in the trees in the park and your beaming smile. You nodded, tucking yourself closer into his side as a breeze blew past you. When you told him that you wanted to go for a walk, he was a little skeptical. It was nearing the end of January and freezing cold at night, but you seemed so excited that he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. And he was really glad that he didn’t.

“I grew up stargazing, the lights are like having a clear sky every night.” You confessed, gaze flicking between the boy next to you and the sights around you.

Brett had never really thought about it before, but now that you had brought it up he couldn’t help but agree with you. Maybe he did actually like the lights, but he had a feeling that it had more to do with the fact that you were absolutely entranced with the view.

“C’mon, I need to warm up.” You dragged Brett out of his thoughts, pulling him over to a hot chocolate vendor. He watched as you interacted with the older man that ran the stand, unable to help the smile that grew on his face as you ordered. You chatted with the vendor as he served you, the infectious cheer that you brought with you everywhere brightening up the man as you paid and left.

Brett was certain in that moment that he had struck gold in finding you. You were everything that he could ever want in a partner: kind, funny, and willing to put up with his crazy NHL schedule. He had already called his mom about you at least ten times—a month—since you started dating. He endured the chirps from his brother about how much he cared for you, and Brett even threw in a few about how his brother acted the same way with his now sister-in-law.

It was that thought that had completely leveled him the first time he had it, that he cared for you the same way his brother cared for his wife. He had known for a week, at the very least, that he loved you and that you were it for him. The problem arose when he tried to tell you so. He was almost certain that you felt the same way, but there was a nagging thought that maybe you didn’t, that you weren’t as invested in your relationship as he was. And it was that fear that had his mouth going dry and palms getting sweaty if he even thought about telling you.

But with the lights shining on you in the perfect way that they were, he knew he was going to combust if he tried to wait a moment longer.

He had once again been lost in his thoughts, and you squeezing his hand brought him back to reality only for him to realize that you had stopped walking. You were watching him intently, a brow quirked up and he knew you were silently asking him what was up.

“Can I tell you something?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, because they sounded bad. And he could tell you felt the same as he watched a mix of confusion and nervousness flash across your face. His eyes widened as he quickly tried to backtrack and reassure you that everything was fine all at the same time. “No! Not like—nothing bad, I promise.”

“Okay…” You trailed off, wondering what could have gotten him so flustered so quickly. He was fine moments before, if not a bit spacey, and you briefly wondered if that was part of the problem, too. Something was on his mind, you just weren’t sure what it was.

Brett steeled his nerves, sucking in a breath as he contemplated just exactly how he wanted to word his confession. You were looking up at him with a confused look, the adorable way your brows furrowed together, and your lips pouted just slightly distracting him for a second, long enough to have him forgetting anything he might have had planned to say.

“I love you.” He blurted, closing his eyes in a kind of wince that told you he was kicking himself for his clunky delivery. You, on the other hand, were completely ecstatic with the way things had panned out. It wasn’t perfect, no, but it was exactly what you wanted. It was real and honest, and you could tell for a fact that he meant it.

Your response was an easy one. You had been feeling the same way for some time, you could pinpoint the exact time when you knew you were done for. He had just gotten in late from a road trip, a week and a half on the west coast, and instead of heading back to his own apartment after getting back he showed up at your doorstep at nearly one in the morning. It was all tired mumbles about how he sleeps better with you and it took exactly zero convincing for you to let him spend the night.

Brett was still waiting for you to respond, other than the beaming smile you were giving him. You could see the panic in his eyes, how he thought that maybe he had screwed things up with you if you didn’t feel the same, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at how he ever could think that you didn’t love him back.

“Okay, well don’t laugh at me.” He teased in an attempt to bring some of the normalcy back to the conversation, though you could just hear how tense his words were. You playfully rolled your eyes, using your conjoined hands to tug him closer and down towards you.

You kissed him, smiling at the way he tasted like the hot chocolate you both had been sipping on. You could feel him relax under your touch, the hand that had been holding yours let go of you and moved to the back of your neck to keep you in place against him an extra moment longer. And when you finally pulled back enough, you could see the grin you no doubt were sporting mirrored on his face.

Your next words were easy to say. You felt them deep inside your bones, and knew without a doubt that you meant them. That nothing you had ever said could match the certainty with which you delivered the sentiment with.

“I love you, too.”

SPRING

“What’s all this?”

It was your first season dating a hockey player, but you had been a fan of the sport for longer. You knew it sucked being knocked out of the playoffs after clinching a wildcard spot, but you never had to experience it up close.

So when the Rangers were eliminated in the third round after seven hard-fought games, you weren’t sure how Brett would react. He was quiet after the game, barely saying anything as you spent the night at his apartment. There were lots of cuddles, and when you woke up before him, you took it upon yourself to make breakfast.

And that’s where Brett found you, waking up half an hour after you to see you in little more than one of his old oversized shirts standing in front of the stove as you made pancakes. You smiled at him over your shoulder, happy to see that he looked a little better than the night before.

“Making breakfast, thought I’d surprise you.” You confessed, sighing in content as he wrapped his arms around your middle from behind you. You leaned back into him, giggling at the way his playoff beard scratched your neck as he nuzzled into you. “At least now you can finally shave.”

You felt a sense of pride as he chuckled, no matter how half-hearted it was. His laugh was easily one of your favorite sounds, and it was disheartening to see him so down. One of your arms rested atop his forearms wrapped around you, the other holding the spatula you were using to flip the pancakes.

“Are those chocolate chip?” He questioned, and now it was your turn to chuckle. You nodded, twisting your head to the side to press a quick kiss to his cheek as his head was still resting on your shoulder.

“I figured we could have a cheat day, you earned it.” Your comment earned a hum of satisfaction as he slowly rocked you side to side. Part of you felt a little guilty in savoring just how clingy he was being as a result of being eliminated from the playoffs, but you also knew this was exactly the kind of comfort he needed. And if it meant that you also were smothered in attention and affection from the man you loved, then you weren’t going to complain.

You stayed wrapped up in Brett for the remainder of the time it took you to cook, and even when you were eating he didn’t let you get very far. When you stood to start cleaning up, as an extra treat, since usually when you cooked he cleaned, Brett disappeared down the hall for a moment only to return with a bluetooth speaker.

It was a common occurance whenever you hung out, when Brett said he was always listening to music he meant it. He turned on one of his playlists, one you recognized as having softer, slower songs and he joined you at the sink in cleaning up. The two of you working together meant everything got done much quicker and soon enough you were shutting off the sink and drying your hands.

You went to ask him what he wanted to do next, expecting maybe a movie or something similar, but he clearly had different plans as he swept you into his arms and started slow dancing. You chuckled, letting him lead and stealing kisses whenever you could.

After the first slow song ended, you slipped out of his arms, much to his protest. Picking up his phone, you changed the song to one a bit more quicker and upbeat. If you were going to dance in the kitchen in your pajamas like fools in love, you were going to do it right.

Moving back to him, you spotted the tired grin he was wearing. Pushing yourself onto your tip-toes, you stole one more kiss for good measure. You started twirling and dancing and giggling around the kitchen without a care in the world, and though Brett was still feeling a little disappointed at not being able to make it further in the playoffs, he couldn’t truly be upset when the person he loved the most was laughing and wearing his clothes.

“Thank you.” He mumbled before leaning in for another kiss as you spun into his chest, his arms locking you in place against him. You didn’t respond at first, too caught up in him and how handsome he was, even though he had yet to brush his hair and his pajamas weren’t the most stylish things in the world.

“I’d do it again, but I won’t have to.” Your words confused him, but he was still grinning slightly at the light and certain tone you spoke with. “Rangers are getting the cup next season, I’m speaking it into existence.”

“Don’t let some of the guys hear you saying that, they’ll accuse you of jinxing it.” Brett chuckled, looking down at you with the utmost admiration. You were practically melting under his gaze, wondering how he managed to get you every time with just how often he looked at you with that much love in his eyes.

“They’ll thank me when they win.” You teased, waving a hand nonchalantly. He let out a quiet, breathy, laugh and shook his head in mirth instead of replying. A lull fell in the conversation, and though it wasn’t awkward, it did give you an opportunity to think about the one thing you had been putting off considering. “So… what now? When are you leaving?”

It was a fair question, considering that this was your first time experiencing the end of the season. Brett’s work was done in New York and soon enough he’d be heading back to spend the offseason with family. There was no obligation for you to follow, or even for him to invite you, but it felt weird thinking that you’d spend the next couple of months apart, especially since you had been nearly inseparable since you had gotten together.

“I was thinking that maybe you could come with me, at least for a couple weeks. My parents love you, I’m pretty sure they would kill me if I didn’t at least invite you.” You chuckled at his comment, knowing he was just teasing but your heart swelled at the thought that his parents liked you. And really, there was no way you could ever turn down the opportunity to see his hometown with him.

“Well, I can’t disappoint your parents, you know.”

SUMMER

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not a good idea, I promise.”

You were having a great time. Brett’s parents had rented a lake house and invited both their sons along with their significant others. The boys were swimming in the water while you tanned on the dock alongside Brett’s sister in law.

It was great, Brett’s niece was swimming with her father and uncle, her gleeful cheers the only thing breaking up the chatter and the soft music playing. His dad was on the grill up by the house and his mom had slipped inside to get a refill on her drink.

But then you spotted Brett grinning at you mischievously, and you just knew he was planning to splash you. Hence, your warning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He defended himself, acting as if he was completely innocent. You knew it was an act, you were still drying off from earlier when he had thrown you over his shoulder and jumped into the water, but you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed. Not when you had started everything by pushing him in the first chance you got.

“Leave her alone, Brett.” His mom teasingly warned, having just returned from the house and setted back down in her deck chair she had brought out. As she spoke, you bent over the side of the dock, reaching a hand in the water just enough before splashing him. His niece let out a shriek that resembled a laugh, and Brett alternated between wiping the water off of his face and chuckling at you.

“You two were made for each other, I swear.” His sister in law commented and you simply grinned wider, eyeing Brett carefully to make sure he wasn’t planning anything in retaliation.

Later that evening there was a bonfire, and everyone had called it a night long before you and Brett were ready to. You had started the night sitting in different chairs, but at some point you had gotten up to make a s’more and didn’t make it back to your own seat as Brett pulled you into his lap.

“This is nice.” You murmured, watching the flames of the fire dance. Brett’s brother had thrown a couple logs on before he left fifteen minutes ago, so it was set for a while before you had to force yourself to get up. You were dreading, somehow extremely comfortable curled in up in his lap with a blanket haphazardly tossed across your legs.

Brett hummed in agreement, his chest vibrating underneath where you were pressed against him. His lips pressed against the top of your head and his hand that had been resting on your leg started to rub back and forth soothingly.

“I love you.” Brett copied your quiet tone. He told you that several times a day, everyday, but you were certain that you’d never tire of hearing him say those three words. It made your chest warm and heart race, and never failed to put a smile on your face.

“I love you, too.” His hold on you tightened a bit more at your words, the simple action letting you know the sentiment affected him the same way it did too. Silence fell over you, only filled with the crackling of the fire and the distant chirps of crickets and any other insects and critters that were in the trees surrounding the house. You were completely content, and you would’ve been fine with never having to get up ever again.

“Do we have to go back to the city?” He mused, earning a groan from you. There was still time before training camp and preseason and everything else that came with being adults and having careers, but that didn’t mean it stressed you out any less.

“Don’t remind me.” Your reaction earned a chuckle from Brett, the sound, like always, was music to your ears. “My landlord keeps messaging me about whether or not I’m renewing my lease in September.”

There was a hidden question in your statement. You were asking without really asking if Brett wanted to move in with you, that being the natural next step in your relationship. You had known for a while that he was it for you, and though it hadn’t been quite a year since you had started dating you were more than ready to take the leap.

Brett had mentioned offhandedly a few times about sharing his space with you, mostly comments about how he wanted to wake up to you as often as he could. You were at his apartment more than you were at your own, and had even developed a routine of being at his place already when he came home from roadies late at night. The first time he had come home and found you already asleep in his bed, waiting for him, the domesticity of it all nearly knocked the wind out of him.

But he had never seriously brought up moving in with you, and you were starting to get nervous that maybe he was having reservations about your relationship. Those fears were completely unfounded, you knew, but you couldn’t help but have your irrational moments.

“Don’t renew your lease.” Brett said casually, and even though you were practically drained from the sun and the lake and the few beers you had earlier in the day, the statement seemed to give you your second wind. “Move in with me.”

“Yeah?” You hated how breathy the one word was, your tone giving away just how excited you were by the offer. You tilted your head up to look at him, only to be met with his stunning smile. “You want me to?”

“I’d be crazy to not want you to.” He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead that had you grinning even wider. Like everything with Brett, it was easy to agree, easy to give him another kiss, easy to spend the rest of the night whispering ‘I love you’s and other sweet nothings while planning which of his teammates you’d bribe with a home cooked meal to help you move your stuff to Brett’s.

“Let’s do it.”

[heroesreverie]

coughs,,,, gimmie some soft sero hcs if you could 🥺💓 ps ily & i hope you’re having a great day! ✨

a/n: ahh!!! express delivery for one of my favourite favourite authors! the person who made me completely fall head over heels for sero...i can’t recommend your writing enough! i’m honoured you’ve come to me for a request and i hope you enjoy

soft sero headcanons!

sero hanta is a lot of things, but average is not one of them

he’s had his eye on you ever since he first met you (cuties tend to catch his attention pretty fast, after all), but no matter how much his friends tease and encourage, he won’t go and talk to you

“shut up, what if they hear you? it’s not like they’d even look at someone as plain as me anyways”

mina and denki are especially relentless, and he only starts avoiding you more in fear that you’ll hear their teases

the only time he’ll ever properly tell them his feelings though, is when he’s high

they’re just chilling in his room when mina decides to start her interrogation

“they’re just...they’re just too good for me, y’know? they’re going to become someone brilliant, hell, they already are someone brilliant, and then...then there’s just me. who would ever go for me?”

the bakusquad does NOT like to see their friend this sad, so they begin to hatch a plan

they know you like him back...if only he could see the way you glance over at him during class, the way your face lights up when he does well in training...

you’d make his heart melt!

and so...operation sero + y/n love love extravaganza begins

(mina came up with the name)

it begins with kirishima casually suggesting a comic to you

“I think you’d really like it! Hey, I think Sero has a copy, I’m sure he’d lend it to you no problem! You should go ask!”

sero almost malfunctions when he opens the door and you’re standing there with a shy smile on your face

you compliment his room and his voice breaks when he thanks you

he vows never to look you in the eye again

next is kaminari 

“y/n! you’re super smart, right? Me and Sero aren’t doing so well in this class, so I figured...well, you’re such a kind person, surely you’d love to help us study, right?”

he conveniently “forgets” your little study date, and so you and sero are left awkwardly avoiding eye contact with each other at the cafe you agreed to meet at

despite both of your nerves...he’s an easy person to be around, and his nervous jokes soon have you chuckling, well distracted from your schoolwork

the sparks you feel in your heart when your hands accidentally brush together almost makes you lose your focus altogether

but, he did promise to meet with you to study, so he tries his best

“gahh, i’m sorry i’m not getting this, y/n! i really did look over this...it’s a wonder i’m in this school at all...”

what he’s not expecting is to feel your wide eyes burn holes into his skin as you look at him in bewilderment 

“what do you mean? hanta, you’re going to be a great hero. you belong at this school”

it’s 4pm in a small cafe and you’ve just called him by his first name when sero decides he has fallen hopelessly in love with you

you have a pen tucked behind your ear and your beverage staining your upper lip but he swears that one person has never looked so beautiful

the one who tells him such lovely words is the one his heart is made for

strangely enough, it’s bakugo who plays the final part

“what are you, stupid? if you like someone, you tell them. you’ve been moping about for long enough.”

although his words are harsh, the side-glance he throws sero is uncharacteristically caring as his voice lowers

“and...you two...would look good together, i don’t know. you deserve someone who makes you happy”

they are simple words, but at that very moment coming from that very person they are just what sero needed to hear

he sends you a quick text asking to meet up near an isolated part of campus

it’s quiet, and it’s pretty. it’s perfect for what he needs to say to you

you’re there waiting for him when he gets there, and he heart almost stops with how beautiful you look next to the spring dusk sky.

“i’m glad you asked me to meet up too. there’s something i need to tell you”

his heart skips a beat

“i want to tell you to go first, but i think i might combust if i don’t get this out right now” he nervously chuckles, rubbing the back of his head.

“i lov-“

“i love you!”

it’s impossible to tell who said it first, and a blush quickly sprouts on both of your faces simultaneously, as if the two of your were intertwined by your confessions of love

sero finds it impossible to look away from your gaze as a warm, lovely feeling in his chest grows and grows, enveloping him in a feeling of utter bliss he didn’t know he needed

luckily, once your relationship is established, you two become a lot more comfortable with each other

even more luckily for you, that means you are the primary receiver of Hanta Cuddles

this man is a cuddle monster! at first he worries that his elbows will get in the way, but you are quick to disperse any concerns he may have

which means hugs at any time of day. his favourite type, however, are coming up behind you when you’re doing your thing and just enveloping you in his arms, inhaling your scent. the way you instantly relax into your lover’s embrace is quietly intoxicating to him, and he wants to savour this feeling forever

in close second, is when you are both gently rocking in his hammock and he’s holding you in his arms while sleep calls you both back and forth

getting to gaze at your sleepy face, and waking up to you gazing at him in return with adoration in your eyes makes him feel like he’s in heaven

for this reason he loves when you sleep over in his room, and he will almost insist on being the big spoon every time

it makes him feel like he’s protecting you, and that makes him feel worth more than anything

he’s your hero first, before anyone else.

steal his clothes. just do it. they are warm and cozy and smell like him and his heart will MELT

jokes are almost a constant once he’s not so shy around you. he will pull faces at you from across the class, whisper quips to you in training, and tell you such awful jokes when you two are alone that your stomach hurts with laughter and there are tears in your eyes

he thinks your laugh is brighter than the sun

nicknames are also a must-have for sero; although he loves saying your given name, your cute little blush when he comes up with a new pet name is too adorable to pass up on

his favourites include “sweetie” “princess” and once he even hit you with “my love”

he is actually quite a good cook! not quite on sato’s level, but good enough to surprise you with a bento box or a homemade dinner sometimes

and if you ever get him a gift in return...

he doesn’t come off as the type to be sentimental, but he treasures every single gift, word, and moment that you give to him

completely respects your choice and opinion on marriage, kids, etc

his main concern is your happiness, your happiness makes him feel complete

he wants to make you the happiest person on earth, and you give him to confidence to believe he can.

sero hanta’s love is anything but average. his love is wonderful. it is amazing, incredible, over-whelming, engulfing, comforting, eternal.

and he wants to share it all with you.

[chroniccombustion]

Things I’ll Never Say

From “And a Week is All I Need (To Fall in Love With You)“, part of @souyoweek2020​

Genre: romance, mutual pining,  dorks in love, M/M Rated: K+ Characters: Souji Seta (Yu Narukami), Hanamura Yosuke, Tatsumi Kanji, brief Dojima Nanako cameo Warnings: mild language Status: drabble collection, incomplete

<- previous chapter | next chapter ->

(song the title is from)

Day 2: Yosuke’s Birthday or Sunny

“Kanji...” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking slightly at the end. “The other day, when you came over... was there a stack of colored envelopes on my desk?”

Confused silence greets him for a moment. Then, “Uh.... I think so? Pretty sure I remember seein' it.” He paused. “Why? Did I leave it there or somethin'? I swear I thought I grabbed it with the rest of the gifts...”

Souji's heart goes plummeting through his feet. “You... grabbed that one, too...?”

“This everything, Senpai?”

Souji looks up from where he's busy tucking a birthday card into a burnt-orange envelope – one that he folded extra-special just for this purpose. Grey eyes scan over the pile of other cards and small packages resting on his desk, taking stock of everything to make sure it's all there. After a moment he nods. “It should be, yeah.”

He stands from his spot behind the low work table and takes a moment to smile quietly down at the envelope in his hands before turning a wider smile towards the person standing across the room. “Thanks again, Kanji,” he says warmly, and the way the taller boy blushes faintly isn't lost on him. It's cute, Souji thinks, and maybe in another timeline where he wasn't already hopelessly in love with someone else, he might very well have been able to return the crush he knows his friend has on him. But that's neither here nor there, and as it stands Souji knows all too well how it feels to have his affections go unreturned. Even if he's much better at hiding them than Kanji is.

The punk mumbles something Souji can't quite make out but thinks might be a, “don't gotta thank me.”

He laughs quietly, gently. “I mean it,” he says, “there's no way I'd be able to hide all this where Yosuke wouldn't find it somehow; my room, ah...” He glances around with a soft chuckle, waving a hand at the open space. “I don't really have a lot of extra storage.”

Kanji looks like he's about to reply – probably to wave off Souji's thanks again – but anything he might have said is interrupted by a sweet voice calling from downstairs. “Onii-chan!” The sound of small footsteps padding down the hallway precedes a gentle knock at the door. “Onii-chan? Are you home?”

Souji chuckles, affectionate and soft, and calls, “I'm home. Come on in.”

Nanako needs no further invitation. The door swings open and a pigtailed head peeks in, brown eyes bright. “Onii-chan, Daddy says he's coming home tonight! Will you help me make dinner? Oh!” she gasps, pure delight spreading over her face as she spots kanji near the desk. “Hello!” She looks over at a still-smiling Souji, then back to Kanji, and practically beams. “Are you staying for dinner, too?”

“Would you like to?” Souji asks, quieter than his exuberant little sister but no less genuine. It's been a while since anyone other than Yosuke has been over in the evenings, and Souji finds he wouldn't mind at all if his rough-around-the-edges underclassman stayed and let Souji feed him. After all, Kanji agreed to hiding the pile of birthday gifts so Yosuke doesn't go snooping through his partner's room for them (though Souji is still a little irritated as to just why he knows Yosuke won't be poking around at Kanji's house to look for gifts). At the very least, he'd like to do something to show Kanji his thanks, since the blond doesn't seem inclined to let him say it.

But Kanji has gone from blushing to an odd shade of purple, fingers scratching as the back of his own hair as he ducks his head to the side and down. Souji at first interprets this as 'cuteness overload', because honestly, who does Nanako not have that effect on? But no. Rather than mutter about how adorable Nanako is like he usually does, Souji hears Kanji instead mutter something unintelligible – with the only discernible words being “Dojima” and “staring at me.” And oh. Well. Souji is disappointed, yes, but he does understand; if his uncle weren't coming home then Kanji likely would have agreed, but there is still an awkwardness between the pair of them, mostly out of yet-unbroken habit. So Souji just gives his friend a knowing smile and says, “You need to get home, don't you?” When Kanji looks up at him, Souji nods in gentle understanding. “Your mom?” he adds, giving the other boy an out that won't alert Nanako.

Kanji's eyes widen for a moment as he catches on, then straightens. “Y-yeah!” he says a bit too loud and a bit too quick. “I mean! My ma's probably waitin' on me.”

Nanako visibly deflates and Kanji looks like he's ready to combust, so once again, Souji steps in. “It's alright,” he says at them both as he reaches down to ruffle Nanako's hair. “Another night this week, maybe?” He quirks a stormy-grey brow, lips twitching upwards in a tiny smirk. “I'll bring leftovers for lunch tomorrow, too; you should come sit with me.”

And oh, if Kanji's face doesn't simultaneously light up and flush a bright, dusty red at that. “Ah heck yeah!” he manages to crow past his blush, and it's absolutely great. Souji has to bite back a triumphant smile because he will feed his friend in thanks for his help whether it be tonight or tomorrow. He'll make extra food later on if he has to, just to have enough to bring to school.

In the end, without really looking, Kanji hurriedly shovels the stack of gifts and cards into the paper sack Souji had brought out for him to use, and Souji and Nanako walk him to the front door to see him out. Kanji loiters for an extra five minutes while Nanako hugs him tightly, and Souji thanks Kanji again where he knows his friend can't really dispute the sentiment with Nanako there to back her brother up. Kanji is a good friend, and Souji almost feels bad about the taller boy's crush, what with Souji's constant need to make sure everyone around him is happy, but even if Souji can't return his kohai's affections he sure as hell can let him know he's appreciated. So with Kanji still sporting a blush and Nanako finally letting him go so he can escape, Souji says a last goodbye to the soft-hearted punk, watching him head up the road for a few moments to make sure he'll be alright heading home.

It's not until several days later that he realizes something is horribly amiss.

---

Souji's crush on his best friend started early. If asked, he wouldn't be able to put his finger on an exact date or pick out an exact event that sparked it. It just... happened. Yosuke was his partner, a new friend that Souji had hoped he'd be able to keep, but it was nothing deeper than platonic affection - until it was.

Without warning it had crept up on him, until Souji found he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't in love with the friendly brunette. Yosuke was charming, funny, kind, and despite his flaws (the least of which being the boy's uncanny ability to lodge his own foot in his mouth at the worst of times), Souji had never met another person besides Nanako that he'd clicked with so well.

Which was why it had been getting harder and harder for him to keep his feelings to himself. Back when he'd been living in the city, well before his parents had sent him to Inaba and then given in to his begging to let him stay for his final year of high school, Souji had kept a journal. Every time he'd had an emotion, a thought, a welling-up of something inside him that screamed to be let out but had no safe outlet for him to do so, Souji would sit down at his desk and pour out everything he couldn't say onto the paper. He'd filled up the entire journal within the span of a year.

So he'd started another. And then another. And then he'd moved to Inaba and quickly filled up the last half of that third journal with his secret worry over the murder cases. He'd filled another, thinner journal after that one, too, until he'd run out of both paper and fear and anger and stress to fill it with. He'd thought he was done.

But then he'd fallen in love with Yosuke.

He'd tried starting yet another journal, just to dedicate to how much he was pining (yes, pining, he could admit it to himself, at least) over the best friend he'd ever had. But after he'd finally found the perfect one, cover bright with colors like summer, he'd sat down to touch his pen to the first page and... nothing. For the first time in his life, Souji hadn't been able to put his emotions into words.

For several weeks he would try and start all over again, thinking maybe if he gave himself enough time to think more about what he wanted to say then the words would come easier. He'd get maybe a sentence or two in, reread it, and then grow frustrated with himself for yet another failed attempt. His breakthrough finally came while working on some translations for one of his part time jobs – a letter, written from a high school student to a foreign girl her family had hosted as part of an exchange program. In her letter she'd anxiously confessed her feelings, hopeful they could meet again someday. By the time he went to bed Souji had every word of the letter burned permanently into his brain, and the moment he was free from school the next day he had gone straight to the shopping district and bought himself a pretty, pastel orange stack of stationary, sunflowers drawn in delicate lines across the bottom of each page.

Writing had suddenly become much easier after that. In the form of a letter, where Souji could pretend he was talking directly to the object of his affections rather than just about, he found that he could burn through nearly a dozen pages front and back in a little under a weekend. He'd had to make two more trips to the shop to get more packs of stationary because, while pretty and perfect for inspiring words of love and hopeless devotion, the flowers on the paper were hand-drawn and so there just weren't that many sheets in the package. At some point, Souji had just given in and bought three packs at once to save himself another venture into town.

The stack of letters grew; some were short, filled with simple things like, “you smiled at me today during lunch and I nearly forgot how to breathe,” and some where longer, detailing the way the setting sun had shone behind them at the riverbank and“made you look ethereal.” As he finished them, one by one, Souji would tuck them safely away in one of his homemade envelopes – all in sunset colors and tied together in a bundle with red string. The bundle stayed on his desk, off to the side where it wouldn't be in the way but still close enough that he could reach for it to add another record of his secret love.

Which is why, three days after Kanji had left with the pile of gifts, on the evening of Yosuke's birthday, when Souji goes to write out an entire day's worth of ache and longing and reaches for the bundle of letters so he can add the newly finished one to the rest only to find it missing, he abruptly has a heart attack.

He has a second one twenty minutes later as he stands in the middle of his now gutted bedroom with absolutely no sign of them anywhere. Books and folders lay scattered from where they'd been yanked from his desk and tossed out of the way onto the futon, only for the futon to also be pulled aside and dumped haphazardly across the work table. He'd gone so far as to (quietly) pull both the couch and the desk away from the walls to see if somehow his heart on paper had been lodged between them and the furniture – all to no avail.

He stares at his ransacked surroundings, wracking his brain to try and think of any other place they could be. They wouldn't be downstairs anywhere; neither Nanako nor Dojima have any reason or desire to go through his things. They wouldn't be in his school bag, either, because Souji would sooner walk straight into the Samegawa and let it drown him than take something so dangerous and valuable anywhere near where Yosuke could happen upon it. In fact, Souji had made it a point in times past to hide the letters behind his textbooks on the desk whenever Yosuke came over, and even though Yosuke had spent plenty of time digging around for Souji's “stash,” he'd steered well clear of the study materials. No, there's no place else in the house or out of it that the bundle could be.

No place else except one.

Souji's hands are shaking so badly that he's already almost dropped the phone twice before he manages to scroll through his contacts and successfully locate the name that he prays to every single god imaginable will tell him he's wrong.

“Yo, Senpai, what's up?”

“Kanji...” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking slightly at the end. “The other day, when you came over... was there a stack of colored envelopes on my desk?”

Confused silence greets him for a moment. Then, “Uh.... I think so? Pretty sure I remember seein' it.” He pauses. “Why? Did I leave it there or somethin'? I swear I thought I grabbed it with the rest of the gifts...”

Souji's heart goes plummeting through his feet. “You... grabbed that one, too...?”

(Nonononono, this wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening!)

Kanji hums on the other end of the speaker. “I mean, I thought I did. I didn't check the bag after I got it home, though... Is somethin' wrong, Senpai?”

Souji hears his own voice, hears himself saying, “N... no. No, nothing's wrong. Thanks, Kanji,” but he can't actually feel the words leaving his mouth. His arm falls limp against his side then, and his fingers act on muscle memory, flipping the phone closed and hanging up the call.

Okay. Okay okay okay, he thinks, trying to keep himself grounded long enough to sort through his own head. The situation is grim, yes, but not hopeless. Yosuke's birthday celebration had been earlier that evening; school had eaten up the first half of the day and both Teddie and Yukiko were on a limited time frame due to work at Junes and the inn, respectively, so there hadn't been much time to do anything other than grab an early dinner together at Aiya's. It had given Kanji and Rise time to run back home and retrieve the bag of gifts and the batch of artisan cupcakes the pop idle had special-ordered in from a shop in Okina and picked up the day before.

The Team had piled into a little corner in the restaurant, laughing and eating and wishing their friend a happy birthday until it was time for Yukiko and Teddie to leave, with Chie offering to escort her girlfriend home. Up until that point, though, they'd all been so busy that Yosuke had forgotten to open any of his presents. And so, not wanting to open anything without the whole group there for him to thank, he'd decided to just take the sack home with him for the time being, with everyone agreeing to meet up at Souji's place the next day after school for Birthday Dinner Round 2.

So. The bad news: Yosuke more than likely has Souji's stack of love letters that were never meant to see the light of day. Alright. Yes. That is utterly goddamn terrifying.

The good news, however, is that he hadn't opened them before, and probably won't open them until they all get together tomorrow. There is still a chance that Souji could get them back without incident – either by waiting until Yosuke is distracted and sneaking the letters back out of the sack of presents, or by telling Yosuke the partial truth, that Kanji had grabbed something by mistake and could I have those back, please, Partner? Yosuke didn't have to know what they were; Souji could simply say that they were letters from his parents from over the years of them being away while Souji stayed either alone or with other people.

Only... Shit. Yosuke already knows that Souji's parents don't actually write to him. Maybe he could say they were from years ago and he was keeping them for sentimentality's sake and putting them in pretty new envelopes. Or! He could say it's stuff he wrote to them but never sent, because that was marginally closer to the truth, wasn't it? But all of that could be a last resort if he isn't able to just steal the letters back and---!

Someone is calling him.

Souji's careening train of thought comes to a screeching halt as his phone begins to vibrate in his hand, the quiet chirping of his ringtone now like a shout into his ears.

He winches, both from the noise and from the whiplash of being sucked back out of his own head, and, on reflex, he brings the offending piece of technology up to his face to look at the screen.

And then immediately jerks back in panic and chucks his phone across the room where it lands on the futon now decorating his work table.

“Oh god no...”

Yosuke is calling him.

Yosuke is calling him and Souji has no plan of action and no way of knowing if he's already too late to stop the tidal wave of destruction that may or may not be headed his way, and ohhhhh he's hyperventilating now, isn't he? Yes. Yes, he most certainly is.

The chirping finally stops just as Souji's vision starts to haze over with white, leaving his ears ringing with its echos for a good few seconds in the sudden quiet of the room. He can hear his own breathing, the thumping of his pulse through his temples and his neck, but with the silence now hanging heavy over his shoulders he finds himself more grounded than he'd been just moments ago. He sighs, shaking out his arms to try and release some of the tension that's been curling tightly in his limbs, and as the quiet stretches on, he feels his hammering heartbeat begin to slow once more.

It takes him ten minutes to feel like a human again. Still jittery but no longer feeling as if he's going to go blind from lack of oxygen, Souji sighs and starts over towards where his phone rests halfway off his displaced futon, leaning down to check and see if it's intact. It's a mistake; no sooner than he's bent over enough to pick up the phone, there comes a muffled scraping sound, like something moving out on the roof. It's followed by a quiet 'thump' and then the sharp, 'tap-tap-tap!' of knuckles against a pane of glass.

Souji lets out a yelp of surprise – the single most undignified, ungraceful sound he's ever made in his life – and whirls around to stare at the closed curtain like he thinks it might somehow come alive. Without even having to see, Souji already knows exactly who has just climbed up the side of the house.

He bites his lip, tasting the barest hint of salt and blood. Please just go away...

Sadly, it seems that whatever deities might have once been on his side are now ignoring him, because in that beat and a half of silent fear there comes another knock at his window. “Souji!” calls a voice from outside. Right outside, as if the speaker is perched just beyond the window, with only the glass and the curtain to separate them both.

The voice – the all-too-familiar voice – comes again, a little louder and less patient this time. “Hey! Partner, I know you're in there, I can see your lights on. I just heard you!” There is a muffled grunt and a sound like something shifting and Souji still can't seem to move. Three more knocks against the glass.

“Bro, I am stupid and reckless as hell, you know I'll just keep getting louder until Dojima wakes up if I have to.”

And both from his tone and the way the knocking and the whispers seem to get steadily louder, Souji doesn't doubt him for a moment. To be frank, Souji isn't entirely sure his uncle and cousin haven't heard all the commotion already – and he knows that the longer he continues to avoid the other boy, the more suspicious he's making himself look. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

So he gives in. Best to get it over with and accept his fate. Maybe there will still be a way to salvage the situation – or at the very least keep it from escalating. He isn't confident in either choice.

It's just as Yosuke makes one last whisper-shout of, “Dude, let me in!” that Souji finally unsticks himself from the floor and yanks the curtain aside to reveal – yep, just like he'd thought – a rather irritated-looking Yosuke kneeling unsteadily on the slanted overhang covering the front door. With a solemn kind of dread, Souji unlocks the window and slides it open, reaching out to grab his friend by the arm and yank him inside before he can make any more noise.

“Finally!” Yosuke says, once he's landed, still in a harsh pseudo-whisper as he's standing up from his hunch. He glares up at Souji, mouth turned down in a pout, but oddly, there doesn't seem to be any heat behind it all. In fact, as Souji stares, tense and frozen and trying impossibly hard to not give in to his fight-or-flight instincts, he could almost say that Yosuke looks... nervous?

Well of course, he argues to himself, he's probably afraid of you now.

Maybe Souji can play dumb and claim he doesn't know what's going on – or maybe he can dive out the window himself and make a break for the train station. If he's quick enough he might be able to catch the last train of the night.

“The hell happened to your room?” Yosuke mumbles, looking around, and Souji fakes a smile as best he can, though even through his numbing anxiety he can feel how strained it is. “Yosuke,” he tries, nearly tripping over his best friend's name. The smile twitches as he tries to keep it in place. “What're you do--”

He grinds to a halt as the boy he's been in love with for the better part of a year pins him with another sharp amber glare and reaches into his hoodie pocket to pull out the very thing Souji was hoping his partner would never see. He swallows, mouth and throat and tongue all suddenly very dry.

“...I can explain...”

Yosuke fixes him with an unreadable look. He stares at Souji for a moment that stretches painfully on, eyes searching Souji's no doubt devastated face. Eventually he lets out a long exhale though his nose.

“I'm guessing I wasn't supposed to see these?” he says, holding up the stack of yellow-orange-pink envelopes, loosely tied back together with their red string – though it isn't really a question. When Souji doesn't answer, Yosuke nods to himself as if deciding something. He pulls the letters back towards his chest and holds them... almost reverently, looking down at them with a soft sort of expression that Souji has never seen him wear before.

Yosuke turns the letters over in his hands. “I didn't know what they were at first; there wasn't a name or note or anything, so I didn't know who they were from and I thought maybe they'd wound up in the bag by mistake cuz, ya know...” Amber eyes glance back up and for a moment the bridge of his nose is dusted a faint pink. He rolls his wrist, waving his hand in lieu of words. The gesture is entirely unhelpful. “They just...” he starts again, huffing. “They didn't look like the rest of the stuff in the bag? So I thought, this should be okay to open, right? Just the top one? And I was just gonna check and see what these were in case someone was missing something and I figured if they were a gift then I could save the rest for tomorrow, but, uhm...”

And here Yosuke trails off, looking back up at Souji with such a searching look, and Souji has no idea how to read him right now. He just stands there, chest aching as his heart batters the inside of his sternum and the edges of his vision tint grey from where he's neglected proper breathing. This is it, this is where he loses his partner, the best friend he's ever had. Souji could have been content loving Yosuke from afar; maybe not happy, exactly, but content. It wouldn't have destroyed their friendship that way, and Souji could have let himself pretend, every so often when he was alone in the dead of night, that Yosuke loved him back. But now all of that is gone.

And Souji feels his heart beginning to crack.

“I'm sorry...” he whispers, voice thin and brittle. He doesn't know what else to say.

There is another long moment of silence. Souji is expecting a rebuke, something biting and defensive or disgusted, perhaps, but it never comes. Instead, Yosuke's expression seems to twist into something confused and almost hurt.

Yosuke clears his throat awkwardly.“Sorry for...?” he asks, stretching it out as like he's trying to prompt Souji to elaborate. He doesn't say anything for a bit, just waiting, watching his partner's face as if trying to read him.

“I read all of them, you know,” he says at length. His grip on the letters tightens. “Twice.” He glances back down at the sunset-colored envelopes and brushes a thumb across the edge of the topmost one. “And I thought, if this was a joke then it was a shitty one.” An anxious fingernail picks at the red string. He huffs. “But if it wasn't and you meant it, then...” A swallow. “It was probably the best birthday present I've ever gotten...” He looks up then, and the glimmering, guarded hope hidden in the lines of his face is enough to shove all the remaining air from Souji's lungs.

Because there is no way he could possibly be this lucky.

Taking a deep, deep breath in, Yosuke squares his shoulders, lifts his chin, and steps forwards until he's less than half a foot away from Souji's face, close enough that Souji can feel the other boy's rapid breathing in faint bursts against his own skin – and suddenly his heart is fluttering for an entirely different reason.

Face red, Yosuke stares directly into Souji's eyes and quietly says, “Did you mean it?”

And Souji breathes a quiet, honest, “Yes.”

Yosuke's eyes widen. “...Yes?” he repeats, like he can't quite believe it.

Souji nods. “Every word.”

And then Yosuke's fingers are fisted into the collar of Souji's shirt, pulling him down to crash their mouths together in a messy, awkward kiss. The angle is a little off, their lips not quite meeting they way that they should, and Souji has no idea what he's doing with his hands as he hesitantly brings them up to rest one on Yosuke's arm and the other on his hip.

It's perfect.

They part a few seconds later, Souji's face and neck and ears burning just as hot as Yosuke's look, but neither make any move to step away.

Yosuke's mouth twitches up at one corner in a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “I wanted to do that before I lost my nerve.”

Souji laughs – not a real one, just a puff of disbelieving breath – and returns the almost-smile as something warm blooms inside his chest. “I love you,” he whispers, and never in his life could he have imagined just how good it feels to finally say it aloud, free of the fear of hatred and rejection.

Yosuke ducks his head as the blush burns further up his ears. The shy, bright grin spreading across his face, however, is beautiful.

“...Love you, too, Partner.”

Beaming, Souji can't help but wrap his arms around his friend and pull him into a hug, burying his face in the soft brown hair at Yosuke's temple. He doesn't cry, but he can feel his shoulders shaking; he doesn't have the focus to tell if it's from relief or something else. “Never thought I'd hear you say that,” he admits quietly, feeling safer with his face hidden from Yosuke's view.

The other boy brings his own arms up to encircle Souji's ribs, giving his back a gentle pat with the hand not still holding the stack of letters. “Yeah, well,” he says, and there is a bewildered chuckle in his voice. “I never thought you were secretly writing me love letters, but here we are.”

Oh!

Souji pulls back from the hug as a thought hits him. He tries not to give in to the little noise of unhappiness Yosuke makes as Souji steps away, having to actively will his feet to take him over to the desk instead of back into his friend's arms. Luckily it's not far, nor does his purpose for being there last more than a moment or two as he snatches up the letter he'd written earlier, now the only one left that Yosuke hasn't yet read. He pivots on the ball of his foot, turning his final step towards the desk into a single fluid motion that carries him back to Yosuke, and holds the creamsicle-orange envelope out for the other boy to take. He smiles, giddy and shy. “Happy birthday, Yosuke.”

Yosuke smiles to match his own, honey-brown eyes warm as he gently takes the letter from Souji's hand and places it on top of the bundle still in his grip, tucking a thumb into the envelope's unsealed flap. “It is, yeah.” He leans in to close the distance between them once again and stretches up until he can touch his lips to Souji's in a chaste, sweet kiss. “Got everything I wanted.”

(Souji brings Kanji a homemade lunch every day for a month.)

[bigskydreaming]

You’re a disgusting, abuse-survivor-shaming cunt. I hope you choke, I truly do.

So I get way more of these kinds of messages than I could possibly ever count. Have been for years. I don’t generally reply to them the way I mock some other hate messages I can at least have fun with, because like, what’s there to say about this kinda thing, y’know?

I don’t know how to get people to understand that there is NOTHING hypothetical about my anger about the things in fandom I get angry about. My rants about dark fic are PERSONAL, they have NOTHING to do with some arbitrary moral superiority stance. I don’t make assumptions as to others’ survivor status or motivations for writing various things because I don’t HAVE to, my anger and frustration are with the OUTPUT, not the inciting reasons. 

My hostility towards fandom comes directly from the hostility fandom shows me every time people try to convince me that I have no reason to have the reactions I do to the way they interact with the extremely combustible topics that define my own trauma and that of others. And the fact that fandom at large has decided that the ONLY acceptable reactions from survivors upon seeing others engaging with these sensitive topics in any way they choose, is either to be silent, or to take part in it. 

I don’t have to know which writers of which fics are or aren’t actually survivors attempting coping mechanisms of their own to be fucking furious at the way fandom has literally commodified these traumas, made them exploitable by making the catchphrase “some people write dark fic to cope” all-inclusive, utilized by anyone. With no shame or self-scrutiny as to the fact that YOU at least know if you are or aren’t a survivor, and if you aren’t one, you have ZERO business offering this particular line up as a defense to any survivor taking issue with the ways you embrace particular topics in particular ways.

The only things I have any interest in shaming people for is their choices, the fucking CHOICE to turn on any survivor who dares say “I have issues with this take” and this goes for abuse as much as it does rape. I’ve lost count of the number of authors over the years who HAVE spoken of being rape survivors specifically but then turn around and treat childhood physical abuse as their personal playground, with none of the care they put into crafting rape storylines on display when they casually have male abuse survivors punching each other in every other argument and just citing ‘boys will be boys.’ I can have sympathy for their status and experiences as rape survivors while still being upset at how they simultaneously perpetuate so many of the untruths that make it so hard for abuse survivors to affirm that they have actually been abused rather than call it something that its not, something that they’ve seen writers call it because the writers simply don’t want to inspect the fact that they’ve casually and without awareness written their characters abusing another.

It’s not a zero sum game.

I get angry not because I feel powerless in my own life (I don’t, actually, thanks, I’ve taken actionable steps every single day to fix what’s wrong in my own life and lol that’s power baby), and not because I’m fixated on my own trauma and unwilling to move past it (lol yeah I have no money to spend on anything BUT therapy because I’m committing to the highly specialized and expensive therapy I only arrived at after years of trial and error with other forms because I just don’t want to move past any of this, okay sure).

Nah, I get angry because of the galaxy brain intellects who smarmingly just decide on this view of me for themselves, condescension dripping from every ‘well-meaning’ expression of contempt sympathy, with zero examination of the fact that like.....idk guys, its a little hard to move past my trauma when everyone ELSE seems more fixated on it than I do! LOL, so we’re just gonna skip merrily on by the fact that the only reason its an ISSUE for me in fandom is because its EVERYWHERE in fandom, huh? ‘Mind the tags’ people parrot mindlessly, as though its not like tags HAVE to be created with self-awareness for what people are supposed to mind, or like I haven’t had people literally try to trigger me with tags aimed specifically at getting under my skin as ‘payback’ for something I wrote (out of moral superiority, naturally, not a visceral display of emotion, never that). As though the tags have anything to do with the fact that even outside of Ao3, there are incest-themed shipping weeks every single month of the year, that every major discord server and fic exchange and other fandom wide event demands participants be ‘ship-friendly’ which might as well be code for ‘not friendly to anyone who doesn’t prioritize ships over survivors,’ like fandom hasn’t created a culture in which people are more inclined to be defensive over how people make writers FEEL about stuff they’ve written than they are to be defensive over how certain writing makes various survivors feel.

I’ll never get over how a fandom that universally expressed disdain for Devin Grayson’s disrespectful handling of the sensitive topic of rape has obliviously embraced every form of euphemism under the sun for their own content, and just flat out REFUSES to concede that there is ANY room for criticism in ANY handling of even the most sensitive of topics. Because there’s no sensitivity allowed when it comes to any topic in fandom....unless its the writer’s sensitivity, that must be respected at all costs.

Does that not really strike you as....odd? Aren’t there lines out there about how no society or culture or environment that truly embraces free speech can simultaneously embrace freedom from criticism? And yet time and time again, its anyone who dares criticize - in ANY fashion - the HOW of what someone wrote, not even the WHY, they’re the ones termed authoritarian, censor, the one attempting to SHUT DOWN conversation rather than expand upon it. Tell me, what conversation was THIS anon and similar ilk attempting to invite? Every criticism I write of fandom invites people to engage with it. I fucking BEG people to engage with it. You’re the ones who choose not to. At least not in good faith. Because its only when I refuse to let you move the goalposts from anything other than this being about me reacting to what you wrote, no aim at doing anything other than being a reaction to an action, not an attempt to tell you what to do, just an attempt to get you to tell me WHY, if it really is as defensible as you loftily claim it is - then why is it you just can’t tell me, straight to my face, that it doesn’t matter what negative reaction your writing evokes, you don’t actually have to care? Cuz you don’t, of course. But if you’re that content with your own motivations, your own impact, why so uncomfortable just saying that?

The funny thing is, I truly don’t make any assumptions as to the why of anyone writing dark fic. I have a lot to say about the fact that we all know damn well that at least some of the people offering up the ‘some survivors use dark fic to cope’ aren’t speaking of themselves when they do so, but I have ZERO interest in imagining who that is and why. I’ve spoken of the fact that its willful naivete to assume that even if your own motivations for writing certain content are innocent in your own mind, you can’t assume the same of EVERYONE. That its nothing but willfulness to pretend that actual predators don’t peruse the same content. That the very same factors that make Dick Grayson so appealing to survivors, for example, as a strong heroic character who neverthless has been victimized and violated more than once - the flip side of this coin is this of course makes him EQUALLY appealing to people on the other end of things....a strong heroic character who nevertheless can be victimized and violated more than once.

And yet I honestly, truly have no interest in figuring out who might be whom, when it comes to writers, and I don’t assume everyone who writes or reads certain content in certain ways is in the latter camp. IT DOES ME NO GOOD, to go through life assuming that many people are all potential rapists or inclined to side with my own rapists’ or abusers’ side of things. I CHOOSE to give people the benefit of the doubt there, I assume perhaps they ARE survivors trying in good faith to cope with their own trauma and defensive about hearing that butts up against with other survivors trying to move on in other ways, or that they’re simply people who grew up in fandom being told there is nothing they can write that can be termed wrong, and have trouble with such a deeply held conviction being contested. Or perhaps only got into shipping incest because the ‘fandom elders’ of various fandoms like SPN deliberately and with full intent once upon a time pitched incest as being the same kind of taboo relationship that the same kind of people who forced gay men into secretive relationships were against....that incest ships and closeted gay ships were basically the same, and so as the latter became less of a thing as media showed more open gay relationships, incest ships became more of a thing among fans who were really compelled by the secretive/’society’s against them’ aspect of forbidden love.

I don’t assume any of that on a ONE TO ONE basis with any single writer or reader because I don’t KNOW their personal story and I’m not TRYING to. It makes no difference when I’m not talking about or arguing against the WHY of someone doing a thing, but the HOW. The end result, and the interactions it creates in the environment in which their output is published, shared, celebrated.

All at the expense of any survivor who doesn’t enjoy seeing things they’ve struggled with getting taken seriously about, maybe all their lives....not taken seriously, and offered up as just a themed week on the latest fantasy porn prompt generator. The problem with incest shippers isn’t even just ‘you ship incest, why do you do that,’ its that you can’t seem to manage to do it without assuming anyone who objects is only doing so out of a place of moral superiority. You try and make it a hypothetical argument “well what about when you do this” as opposed to something rooted in the here and now of the personal. We’re not talking about what ifs, we’re talking about what is. Deal with that before you try raising something else, instead of always raising something else so you never have to deal with that. 

The problem is people condescendingly assuming we have ZERO basis for any objection, or any negative reaction at all. Its our own fault, you see, for being too stupid to get that fiction doesn’t affect reality (even though we’ve debunked that time and time again). Its our own fault, you see, for not getting that its not really incest BECAUSE (a claim that is never actually as universal as it tries to pretend to be, and thus is never more than a distraction for the specific argument that prompted it). Its our own fault, you see, for not getting that this isn’t really a big deal, there are bigger problems, and its awfully sad if we’re so fragile and delicate we can’t handle someone enjoying something that has nothing to do with us (even though its never your call whether or not it has anything to do with us, just as its never our call what your specific motivations for writing specific content might be).

The problem is the same thing I’ve been dealing with all my life, and all the more exhausting for it being front and center in fandoms that claim to be escapism and catharsis for survivors....as long as those survivors perform in the manner fandom is comfortable with....aka the manner fandom has exploited and commodified in order to make certain manners of enjoying certain topics possible and defensible for ALL fans, regardless of their own connection to such topics, or motivations surrounding them.

Denial, avoidance, and abdication of responsibility. There’s no problem if YOU don’t see a problem, after all. There can’t be a problem if you just refuse to acknowledge a problem. A problem has nothing to do with you if you simply have nothing to do with it.

And all the while, you continue engaging in the same behaviors that provoke the same reactions that you refuse to ever actually engage with or address, relying on gaslighting to try and sell people and everyone around them that THEY’RE the real problem....its us that have no respect for freedom of speech, creativity or the creative process, other peoples’ traumas, the difference between fantasy and reality, etc etc ad nauseam.

We see people waving away instances of physical abuse with textbook abuse apologism, and we’re told we don’t know what we’re talking about. We see people offering up wording and phrasing in the comment sections of fics that are literally textbook grooming techniques we recognize from our own experiences and we’re told we’re imagining things. We see characters raping others without it being described as rape and we’re told we didn’t mind the tags, even though oddly enough, none of the tags actually said ‘rape’ but rather other euphemisms and if they aren’t in place to tell readers not to expect actual rape in the actual fic, then, what purpose is it they actually serve, again?

But sure.

Talk to me some more about survivor-shaming.