#is this allowed in the main tag im sorry please tell me...

[3h16offering]

tattoo idea goes to vvandelo .... i just keep thinking about it ...

[astradyke]

help I am going to see the tour in less than a month and I don’t know enough lore. I’ve been watching as much as possible but who should I follow here any dnp blog recs?

HI ANON! sorry i am replying to you so late it's been a busy week ^_^

ugh i could gush about all my mutuals but i will TRY to keep this contained. also if i didnt mention you but you're awesome please like self promo off this post .

@thisdayindnphistory <- archive feature will be super helpful! Literally THE place to catch up on lore/important dates, even scrolling through can help you paint a better picture of certain years!! love this blog a lot it's a major help in web weaves :P

@purpurussy has successfully found like any post that i need whenever i need it b/c they're a miracle worker but also does like really great analysis posts & has awesome tags on things too

@phantasticphizza and @blossoms-phan CEO of cool mutuals who make me extremely happy when i see them on the dash and also I think both of them are awesome to follow in general so i'm just going to flail at you encouraging u to follow :3

@bitchslapblastoids ALWAYS allowed to cook in the kitchen and has a good handle on lore stuff too i feel like!!! Idk!! Follow!!!!!! My really cool mutual who has really good posts on stuff

@gamora-borealis awesome awesome awesome Follow this account smiles

@dnpbeats knows SO much about dan and phil lore and is like ... Like she has several claims to fame in her bio i feel like that's enough evidence this is THE blog to follow ever

@freckliedan knows SO much all the time makes awesome posts about many such things and just knows a lot!!! Lot of cool stuff on this blog has like helped me find info n stuff so many times. jam is lovely :]

Fuck I got so many more @deadandphilgames @phuckingphan @laprasboat @ingydar-phan @oldphanny @absolutefilthimsosorry @thighguys <- ALL OF THESE FOLKS ARE REALLY COOL AND MAKE REALLY AWESOME POSTS!!! I WOULD YAP ABOUT THEM SEPARATELY BUT THIS IS REALLY LONG im sorry ily!! Their cool posts speak for themselves though thumbs up

Also tentative because I'm bad at tracking mutual main blogs so if we are not properly mutuals i am SO SORRY and will be embarrassed forever but @yonpote @lizardsmp3 extremely EXTREMELY extremely cool blogs. Like very cool. the coolest. Please follow these two blogs i am really major fans<3 and i would argue these r required follows to maximize the phannie experience

I hope this is helpful anon!!!!!! If you ever feel like you need to catch up on a specific lore thing you can always fling that out into tags and people will graciously catch you with their massive knowledge (not me because i kind of don't know anything and rely upon aforementioned mutuals to nicely tell me information and i go okay <3 yay <3) but u are always welcome in the inbox!!!!!! <3

I HOPE U HAVE SO MUCH FUN AT TIT!!!!!!!!!

[vividviverrid]

make the word tag 🖊️

thank u for the tag @kahvilahuhut !!!!!! :))

RULES: Using the 3 random words given to you, you have to write a scene either using all 3 words in one scene OR write three separate scenes using each word separately.

my words were chair, moon & beverage ; i tried to figure out what to write for beverage but i just COULD NOT omfg im so sorry. so there's only two 😭

i tag anyone who sees this with the words fun, gold and stars!

i. chair

“Sit down, please,” Xorna says. “Goodness, even the guards are scared of you.”

Jessica continues pacing through the main room of the castle, her boots stomping several loud thuds into the tile beneath. She’s biting her fingernails, making furious noises between each gnaw that really are starting to scare the guards, Xorna can sense. She’s ignoring Xorna, which is the bravest thing she’s ever seen any human do.

“I just don’t — I don’t get it,” Jessica hisses. She doesn’t stop moving, continues fluttering about the castle like a fragile Earth moth. “Soren’s not -- I mean, he’s always had a dark sense of humor, but he’d never threaten anyone else unless it was for a good reason.”

“Maybe he thinks you’re a good reason.”

“He should know I wouldn’t want him to hurt anyone.”

Xorna gives her a sad look. She approaches Jessica with caution -- as if approaching a terrified, cowering creature -- and places a hand on her shoulder with a surprising amount of tenderness, an amount she could never have imagined exerting for a human before today.

“If I let you sit in my chair, will you finally talk to me instead of at me?”

“What do you care? You’re a de—wait.” Her face twists. “Your chair… the throne? You’d let me sit in the throne of this place?”

“...Desperate times. What do you say?”

ii. moon

Zee buries his head in his hands. It’s cold out, dark. He can feel things like that now -- physical sensations like cold and pain, mental sensations like cold and pain. There aren’t a lot of stars in Knife’s Edge; the sky above is merely a flood of black with white specks scattered across it like scraps of street litter. There’s no point in looking up, and he’s too familiar with looking down, so yes, he buries his head in his hands, runs his fingers over his insectoid-rough skin, and tries to remember what a lack of sentience is like.

But he’s not even allowed peace. “Hey, bee boy. You lost?”

It’s Ivy’s voice. He groans, makes a point of his sigh. 

“That’s a loaded question,” Zee replies, through sharp teeth.

She takes a seat next to him on the bench. “I feel that.” Ivy laughs. “It’s kinda easy to get lost, isn’t it? Here at the mansion, and also, just, like, in general. It’s all so fucking complicated. We didn’t sign up for this.”

“I didn’t sign up for any of this. I don’t even want to be here.”

“Yeah, I don’t either, but life isn’t always fair, Zee. Sometimes you just gotta deal.” Ivy begins humming, an indiscernable tune. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m fucking saying this. You have to look at the bright side. Sure, the person who created you is batshit insane and evil, and sure, now you have to kill the person who gave you life, but…. but you know what? I’m not helping.”

“You’re trying, so thanks. I just can’t see any bright side.”

“Then look at something bright?” Ivy suggests with a telling laugh. “C’mon, Zee. Look at something.”

Zee groans again, but his hands recoil to his sides. His eyes open, and he looks up on instinct.

“The moon’s bright,” he says.

“There you go. There’s always a bright side, even in total darkness. Sometimes it’s a literal bright side, and you’re just looking at the moon, but at least the moon is still there.”

“That’s too profound for someone like you.”

“Well, it’s mainly Winter’s brownies talking. Think of it this way: at least you don’t have to do this shit alone.”

Zee nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess.”

[ghost-bard]

why, tell me, would you just maintag that? in all of the campaign tags? without tagging the fact that you're shitting on it? so that people who are just absently scrolling the tags for content about the show they love see untagged hate of a pretty decent guy who is the only reason the campaign they love so much exists at all?

what could possibly have possessed you to do so?

Hello!

I’d like to say, I’m allowed to state my opinion, and i tagged all the campaigns because it applies to all the campaigns, not just Riptide, and what i said was not me “shitting” on jrwi, and I certainly wasnt hating on it lmao (ik i said sorry not sorry for being a hater in the tags, however that was mostly a joke-)

If you had actually read the tags you’d know what caused me to make the post, and even if all the guys are pretty ok, which im not contesting in anyway, that does not absolve them from oh. Idk. Having flaws, and objectively not being the best at writing female characters.

But, to answer your question, what “possessed” me to “hate” on jrwi? In the most recent episode (spoilers btw) Amanda Rinn shows up again, and she’s decided to become a pirate! Cool right? Well she became a pirate to chase after Chip, the man she married, wanted nothing to do with her, and within like a week ended things with. But the whole reason she became a pirate was to chase after a man. That wanted nothing to do with her. And that has become her whole personality. She is entirely treated as a joke.

And you know. Maybe im a little bit annoyed by the fact that there is a paltry amount of women in jrwi, and that the ones that are there are sexualized, unimportant, or incapacitated.

Like i said in the tags im sure you didn’t read, prime defenders is best between it, riptide and apothy, I didn’t include blood in the bayou for reasons ill state in a moment, but that doesn’t mean much now does it?

The main reason why I didn’t include blood in the bayou is because of how short it is, had it been a bit longer I’m sure what I’ve said would apply just as much, and even then if I’m being honest it still can apply to bitb.

Even then, what i said is a common sentiment just because im not sugarcoating it doesn’t make that not true.

But, anon, what i said wasn’t really hate or anything, but if thats what you qualify as hate i suggest you block me and move on. I honestly love jrwi, anyone thats seen just about any of my other posts knows that, but if this one slightly negative post set you off, again, please just block me and be done with it.

[alisblackgf]

no thoughts, head empty, just being best friends with emma who is on a mission to get you to be with your crush through any means necessary

(i’m leaving the crush up to you since im bi and super indecisive-)

since emma’s the theater coach i can imagine her somehow roping up the entire camp into putting on a play and forcing campers and counselors to audition under the claim that it’ll be easier to get the kids to join and be excited if their favorite counselor auditions. emma ends up casting you & your crush as the love interests in the play and shenanigans ensue-

omg you are a genius. i am also bi and indecisive, therefore i'll be doing ALL of the counselors!! how will this work? you'll see!

pairing(s): abigail blyg x reader; nick furcillo x reader; emma mountebank x reader; jacob custos x reader; ryan erzahler x reader; dylan lenivy x reader; kaitlyn ka x reader; max brinly x reader; laura kearney x reader (separate)

trigger warnings: none <3 you guessed it! PURE FLUFF ONLY!

summary: emma mountebank, your best friend, is so sick of seeing you admire your crush from the sidelines and not doing anything. so, she comes up with a plan and gets everyone to help out to make a play, casting you and your crush as the main characters, who just so happen to be in love with each other.

taglist: @hardcore0simp @evaavaughn @sweet-daisies @tywrites @walkingus @boggoswife @bennzzo @yawagucci @fallingwings26 @rainbows-dreams @dylanlenievy @aspendvd @bloodverz @sugxrbxbyqueen

(to apply, click here!)

if you applied to be tagged but don’t see yours there, it means your @ wasn’t working, and i apologize sincerely for that. BUT!! hopefully you still have the chance of seeing this lol

also emma adds a kiss scene at the end of the play for all of them so if you read that part over and over again and get tired of it I AM SORRy

i also lied about me stopping with the confessions. IT WILL NEVER END

it was officially free-time for the counselors, and you had to spend it with emma—obviously—and why wouldn’t you? she was your best friend; you loved her energy and how she could just be so positive and sunny. she confided in you one day that her confident, unafraid persona was just a front, and you two became almost impossibly close.

your first thought was to look in the theater, since she was assigned to it. you opened the doors and there she was, instructing people who were holding props and carrying them in their respective areas; even some of the kids were helping.

you walked up to emma, and tapped her on her shoulder. she looked over at you, and smiled.

“aah, (y/n)! you weren’t supposed to see this until it was finished! buuuuut since you’re already here, i suppose i could fill you in on what’s going on,” she exclaims.

“oh, yes, please do. that would be marvelous,” you responded while watching everyone set some of the stuff up.

“it’s a play! i figured since i’m the theater coach, it’s only fair to do so!” she twirled excitedly, which made your lips curl up into an amused smile as you glanced at her from the corner of your eye. “also, you’re the lead role!”

“i’m not necessarily opposed.” you slowly turned your head towards her beaming face. she was so pretty when she was excited.

“good! you better not be, i spent an entire month writing the script!”

you laughed and asked, “alright, alright, now what part am i playing?”

she explained your role and gave you the deadline to memorize your lines. she also explained that she and the other eight counselors all had parts in the play, and some of the kids did too. she didn’t allow you to know anyone’s part, though, because she wanted to keep it a surprise. what she did let you know was that she told the other counselors that it was for the kids, which made them oblige.

the night of the play...

“can you please tell me who my love interest is gonna be? i got my parts completely memorized, everything’s set up properly, i did everything you asked; i even wore this stupid costume!” you spoke, frustrated but laughing at the same time.

“hey, watch it. i made that costume, in case you forgot. plus, it looks good on you. you’re welcome.”

emma was also in a costume, and it suited her well. 

“oookay, places everyone! the show’s about to start!” she quickly ran off to get into her position.

everyone was seated in the chairs of the auditorium, ready to watch, and your scene was the very first one. the scene included you calling in your love interest to the stage. after all of the waiting, you were excited to see who it was going to be.

you walked onto the stage when given the cue, and called out for the “love of your life.” when they came, it was quite literally the love of your life.

which was...

...abigail!

it took a lot of convincing from emma to get abi to be your love interest for the play

she kept overthinking what you would say, she thought you’d judge her

but she couldn’t deny emma’s puppy dog eyes, and she most definitely didn’t want to miss out on an opportunity to be with you

she was very very shy at first, so you secretly exchanged some encouraging words which made her smile and boosted her confidence

when the scene was over, you told her how great she did and she could not stop beaming

she repeatedly tells you how hard and fast her heart is beating

you let her know she did great, and she had to resist the urge to kiss you (she would never initiate it because she’s too scared of being rejected)

so of course, emma being the little sneaky devil she is, added a kiss scene as the ending scene of the play

poor abi’s face was red when it was time

you both went through with it

the kiss was soft and sweet

and the audience clapped

when you two pulled away, abi was so so soooo shy

she took your hand and led you off-stage, where you two would confess to each other and become official

...nick!

now how emma got nick to be your love interest was a set-up.

she made a bet with him, saying that if you slept in today, he’d have to be in her play (she told you to sleep in the night before)

so now he’s here

she didn’t tell him you were gonna be his love interest, so when he sees you he almost explodes

he stutters on his words a little bit, and you nod to let him know he’s doing great

soon enough, he becomes bold and confident

he flirts with you his character flirts with yours with ease as he’s no longer afraid

you take this as your chance to be bold as well, which flusters him

of course emma makes you kiss at the end, so when it’s time he stares at you

it’s only when you nod and let him know it’s okay to kiss you that he actually does

the kiss was sweet and gentle, as if he was scared to hurt you

and everyone clapped

after the play was over, nick visited your cabin and then confessed to you, and you reciprocated the action

nick smiled to himself while going to bed that night

...jacob!

oh goodness

all emma had to do for him was tell him you’d be the love interest and he signed up immediately (its not like he had a choice)

when he came on stage, he was so dramatic but you gave him the most adoring look and when he saw your face he literally melted

after seeing how sweet you looked when he was being silly, he kept doing so, and the audience loved him!

he was so ready for the kiss scene that he almost rushed his parts so the scene could hurry up and arrive

he made sure to practice his parts a lot because he didn’t wanna embarrass you

emma shook her head watching him, but smiled when she saw the way he looked at you and how you looked at him

he arrives with full blown confidence, so you don’t need to boost his ego

when the kiss scene arrives, he whispers “finally”

jacob was prepared for this moment but hesitated because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so you just kissed him

the kiss was energetic and you both couldn’t stop smiling

when the audience was clapping is when he confessed

you confessed too

and you left the auditorium holding hands

...ryan!

now you were definitely not expecting this

ryan saw your stunned face and gave you a look that said “i know, i’m shocked too”

emma asked him to join and he said “only if (y/n)’s in it” as a joke

emma took it seriously.

and here he is now

you couldn’t help but laugh, and he almost thought you were laughing at him

that was until you winked at him and motioned him to come closer

he tried to be expressive, but failed

he wasn’t good at acting. like at all.

but that’s okay, because the audience loved him anyway

you smiled at him the entire time, and he couldn’t help but smile back

ryan’s a little anxious because he’s never done this before, so you should boost his ego (he deserves it)

when the kiss scene arrives, he kinda freezes

you had to kiss him because he was beginning to chicken out

the kiss was soft and impassioned

the audience clapped

he only confessed when you two were alone

you confessed as well

and listened to his podcast whilst sitting next to each other, your head resting on his shoulder

...dylan!

another drama queen

emma let dylan know of every role and smiled to himself when he heard he’d be your love interest

she told him not to spoil it

he’d always flirt with you jokingly, so he figured he’d just do it here as well

he got really into his role and surprisingly was a great actor

you almost laughed at how serious he looked

you flirted with him jokingly too, and even did some improv

and it was just teasing all around

emma shook her head in faux disappointment as she watched you two be super extra on stage

he’s an anxious mess but doesn’t show it, he fronts as if he’s confident (if you try and boost his ego he’ll just go like ‘i know i’m awesome’ but really appreciates it)

when the kiss scene arrives, he smirks at you

you roll your eyes playfully

the kiss was neat but obnoxious (because dylan’s a goof), and you couldn’t stop laughing after it was over

when the play was done, dylan went for it

“hey, you wanna redo that kiss?”

you both confess right after and listen to some music together

...kaitlyn!

she quite literally has to be pushed onstage by emma

she thinks you look stunning and that she looks ridiculous and swears like a sailor under her breath

she comes off as aggressive when she’s anxious, so please let her know she’s doing amazing

she hesitated to say her lines but ultimately warmed up and let loose a little

you subtly encouraged her to step out of her comfort zone with each line you delivered

she wasn’t a terrible actor, but she wasn’t all that great either

you did improv with her to get her to loosen up some more, as she’s still a little tense

emma watches you help kaitlyn ease into her role and almost squeals at how cute you two are

she can’t help but smile whenever you’re saying your lines and almost forgets to say hers because she’s too busy looking at you

she would be so confident in her abilities if she wasn’t with you, she’s so scared that she’ll embarrass herself in front of you so she falters (BOOST HER EGO NOW.)

when the kiss scene arrives, she’s ecstatic but nervous

when you kiss her, she melts

the kiss is soft and just a teensy bit rough

after the play is over, she asks if you like her

which leads to you both confessing

and accidentally falling asleep on each other while watching a movie

...max!

he’s awkward. very awkward.

honestly there was nothing emma could do for him so she made the kids force him to be in the play

he looks to you for comfort almost immediately

you try and let him know he’ll do amazing through your given lines

says “uh” and “um” a lot when delivering 

thank god emma gave him an awkward character to play because the audience didn’t even notice he was actually this bad

he’s a terrible actor. i’m sorry he just is

THIS IS NOT MAX SLANDER BTW

stutters a whole lot

his ego needs to be boosted like immediately. this man has 0 confidence whatsoever

he’s glad you’re there because he’s positive if it were anyone else, they would’ve made fun of him

when the kiss scene arrives, he’s very nervous

the kiss is awkward but sweet

the audience loves him. some random girl even called him cute after the play

when the play is over he confesses and apologizes for being so awkward

you accept his apology and confess to him too

it’s still awkward.

im sorry it just is

but he does offer you his hand to hold

...laura!

she is absolutely unamused

until she saw you, that is

she almost ran up to you and gave you a hug but remembered she had a show to put on

so she does just that

she’s not as dramatic as the certified drama queens, but the drama’s there

she literally killed her role the audience looooooved her

they clapped every time she arrived on stage which gave her the confidence she needed (if you still encourage her it’ll mean a lot more than some clapping from randos)

her line delivery isn’t perfect but it’s still impressive

winks at you to flirt subtly because she knows the audience can’t see something as small as that

emma is shocked as laura’s performance and is definitely going to ask her to audition in future plays

when the kiss scene arrives, she doesn’t hesitate but does wait until you’re ready so she doesn’t disrespect your boundaries

the kiss is soft but a little rough (slightly rougher than kaitlyn’s)

when the play is over, she drags you off-stage to tell you how well you did and how much she loves you

accidental confessions at their finest

you admit you like her too and off you two went to find all the snacks you could and rant to each other

...emma!

you were not expecting emma to be your love interest, but you were glad she was

when she came up on stage, she gave you the softest smile ever

her acting was beautiful, your jaw threatening to drop

she’s the ultimate drama queen, everyone cheered when she came onstage

people clapped whenever you had scenes together

if anything, she’s the one boosting your ego, letting you know how great you’re doing

she has you infatuated, smiling at her every move and word

her movements were so fluid, the acting was on point

she was like a goddess

tell her how great she’s doing, even if she knows it (it means so much to her omg)

when the kiss scene arrives, she kisses you so passionately and gently

everyone clapped because you two are so cute

when they play was over, she admitted to you that she thought you had a crush on nick and tried to set you two up but nick told her that you liked her and therefore she should be the love interest

this led to her confessing that she loved you and would’ve gotten really jealous if you did like nick but would’ve wanted you to be happy

you guys held hands, kissed, shared snacks, listened to music, talked, ranted, whatever you could think of

you two were so happy

[brwnicons]

HELLO! LOVED THE ITTO SCENARIO ITS 1AM I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND ME BEING A GAY ASS TROGLODYTE BY SENDING IN A SECOND REQUEST

Anyway, Hi! I hope you're doing well! i just rolled for xiao again today and instead i got a Yunjin which makes her C3 now ack. i just want an anemo character pls. m kinda bummed out but the plus side is, i get ideas when im frustrated.

may you write for kaeya x male reader fluff?

Reader is a powerful knight of favonius who has a pyro vision but isn't really taken seriously cause he's kinda air headed and skittish? like he will absolutely one tap all the hilichurls but he's kinda floating in the clouds when doing normal things.

The reader is often goes in expeditions cause he has a tendency to set things on fire when feeling strong emotions. he gets frustrated? arm on fire. he's excited? oh no, hair on fire.

Enter Kaeya.

Since he's a suave mf, he regularly flusters the reader and reader just goes. "AH! NO! NO! STOP! PLEASE!" just begging for dear life while Kaeya barely complements him and the next thing they know, the table is on fire.

Hope this ain't too long and hope you're doing good! :DD

☆ I'm really sorry for the delay, I loved the request and I hope that you like it and that, by this time, you had already got your anemo beloved !! ☆

Kaeya x Male Pyro Knight of Favonius Reader

-> Summary: Male Reader, scenario in divided parts

-> Triggers: Mentions of fire

-> Warning: Don't tag this as yaoi!

Please tell me if you find any mistake

-> Everyone loves the pyro knight !!

• Everyone in Mondstad knows about the friendly knight of Favounius with the friendly face and the flaming eyes who is always willing to help

• And among the Knights of Favounius, everyone knows about the strong man that carries a pyro vision but also probably not more than five neurons

• Don't misunderstand me, they love and admire you! It's just that master Jean prefers giving you missions more... in the field

-> Not quite on the sharp side

• You are a brilliant knight and your pyro techniques are really something, allowing you to rarely take more than 1 hour on your missions. But, when speaking about finding lost pets, carrying packages or attending to meetings, you are quite a disaster

• When you first started serving the Knights of Favounius and doing these kind of quests you would often forget them and end up doing something completely different. Also, when attending to meetings, you would daydream and dissociate most of the time, unable to pay attention.

-> Well, maybe ice can start a fire

• It is also know that when you first entered the Knights of Favounius, the fire rate in the headquarters increased suddenly. And looks like you seemed to always manage to be there when it happened though they didn't notice that most of times Kaeya was also with you

• At first, the Knights thought you were doing it on purpose and even a rumor about you being a Fatui started to run, but all of their suspicions vanished the day you attended a meeting and turned into a fire ball as soon as Kaeya praised your job

• "A truly splendid job, y/n. Who could known that besides being a so handsome man you could also hold so much power", he praised while a smug smile painted his lips, but you began shouting as soon as you felt the heat inside you grew. "NO! NOT AGAIN!"

• It was a very romantic moment indeed, if it weren't for the other 10 people in the room that glared at you and the fact that all of your skin released 5-feets flames that ended up burning the main table.

-> The Cavalry Captain right eye hand

• However! Your kind eyes and determination made their way into Jean's heart who, over time, kept acknowledging your achievements and kept promoting your position.

• Eventually, you reached a position that allowed you to receive direct orders from Kaeya

• This meant that when you woke up and went to work you could either fight some angry hilichurls or having to spend all your day in sorting alphabetically the library

• You turned out being more something like Kaeya's personal attendant. Not that you would mind though, not when sometimes you could do things like serving him a cup of coffee and chat with him for a bit

• You two started growing more and more close, until the expected confessions arrived and the news about the Cavalry Captain's boyfriend went viral in Mondstad like wildfire.

-> A warm couple

• On the private side, Kaeya enjoys teasing you and try your resistance by flirting with you. Soft caresses on your arms, ghost kisses on your neck that light up your hair ends and eyelids on orange flames, and sweet praises and compliments that create flames on your arms.

• He prays to every archon that you never get used to it

• To your dismay, he also enjoys doing it in public. He sometimes calls you to his office only for him to state: "Oh, don't worry, I am just checking how my handsome man is doing today. You look breathtaking today, dear."

• Thankfully, Jean is aware of Kaeya's plans and has already retired every carpet in the Captain's office and is now waiting outside with a bucket of cold water

Needless to say that, by strict orders from master Jean, you have absolutely forbidden to play or even interact with Klee

[frogtanii]

WRITTEN BIT BABEY :)

you leave the room with a heavy weight sitting on your heart that is only amplified by the serious look on kenma’s face. you ignore it in favor of turning on the tv and going to disney+, queuing up the original mulan knowing how into the story hinata would get. still refusing to face your friend, you move to the kitchen digging around the cabinets to find snacks.

“yn,” the sound of your name jolts you out of your focus even though you were expecting it. “can we please talk?”

it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room, the only thing remaining being a heavy blanket of tension draping over the two of you. when you chance a look at kenma, you’re taken aback by the unreadable look on his face--it's overwhelming and you have to take a step back.

you turn away from him, unable to look for long without your mind racing and heart clenching with unknown guilt. a hand gently touches your shoulder, the feeling sending a shock of discomfort down your spine.

"we need to talk about kuroo," kenma starts, his golden eyes desperately searching for your own but you refuse to make eye contact, too afraid of what his expression might hold. when you don't move to face him, kenma sighs and moves somewhere behind you. the sound of a barstool scraping against the tiled floors alerts you that he's probably sitting down which signals a long and emotion-packed conversation.

"he texted me today." the relatively innocent statement is weighed down by the many implications behind it. your mind begins to race--what could that even mean? did he talk about you? your childhood? what he had done to you and more importantly, why? "what did you guys talk about?" the question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, desperation creeping into the edges of your voice.

you finally, finally, shift to face him, mentally steeling yourself for the upbringing of things you'd much rather forget.

"he's playing with you yn. you know it, i know it, he knows it. you need to separate yourself from him," kenma says, his voice monotone and soft. "i-i love you, you know that right?" you nod but remain tight-lipped, allowing your best friend to finish his piece.

"i know you think he's changed but some people never do. i just- i wouldn't be able to live with myself if i didn't say anything and let him hurt you like before." he lets out a deep breath and runs his hands through his almost entirely brown hair. something glints under the soft kitchen lights and you recognize it as the bracelet you'd bought him back in your first year of high school. you smile to yourself, not noticing the look of admiration in his eyes and the soft smile gracing his lips.

the sound of a door opening startles the both of you from your silent reverie, your eyes trailing to the hallway where hinata stands bundled up in four blankets and looking absolutely miserable. "oh shō," you whisper, his puffy eyes already welling up with tears.

kenma moves faster than you, kindly (well as kind as kenma can be) moving the hinata burrito to the couch with you following closely behind. you plop yourself down right next to the redhead, his body coming to rest in your lap. you can't help but lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, running your fingers through his orange locks.

"w-what were y-you guys talking a-about?" shōyō asks, his voice watery and thick with tears. you shake your head at his question, not wanting to bog him down with depressing tales about one of his friends. "nothing baby, nothing. how are you feeling? do you need anything? water, snacks?" your fingers never leave his head, even when he turns to look at you frustratedly, his cheeks puffing in annoyance.

"i want you to tell me what you guys were talking about," he orders, fumbling his body burrito until he's sitting upright between you and kenma. "i'm not a baby, y'know."

kenma barks out a laugh, leaning over to ruffle hinata's hair. "says the one who's been crying all day," hinata giggles at the contact before kenma adds, "baby." you grin as hinata tries to force a pout on his face but it doesn't work, a small smile worming its way there instead.

"we can talk about it later, hm?" you say as you stand before moving to the kitchen to get snacks. hinata nods and snuggles into kenma's arms while mulan begins to play in the background. you're quick to join them, handing a bag of chips to kenma while shō presses a kiss to your cheek before settling in to watch the movie.

------

turns out the later was much later--you'd gotten through all of mulan, frozen one and two, and half of moana before hinata tried to bring kuroo up again.

"shō, you really don't want to hear about it," you groan while cleaning up the kitchen, carefully evading hinata as he follows close behind. "but you promised," he whines, finally grabbing hold of you and resting his head on your shoulder. kenma pops his head from around the corner with a mouthful of pocky's and shakes his head before speaking up. "you should tell him--he deserves to know why you transfered to karasuno in our third year."

you roll your eyes before bopping hinata on the forehead, sending him to the ground with a moan. "fine but if i'm going to be forced to relive the hell that was my high school years, i'm gonna do it over text." with that, you playfully stomp back over to the couch, bringing out your phone and lying down, determined to get this conversation over with as fast as possible.

© promiscuous boy ;)

storytime!!

series masterlist

——————————————————————————

an: holy shit this took me FOREVER AND IT SUCKS ASS IM SO SORRY this is not how i wanted this explanation to go but my writing juice dissipated i am so sorry 😞 don’t worry abt feeding me idk if i wanna hear it for this trash LMAO

EDIT: I REDID IT SO KUROO IS LESS EVIL PLS DISREGARD EVERYTHING YOU MIGHT HAVE READ EARLIER GOMEN

taglist: if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@suhkusa • @tamaguchi • @heyyourecute • @yn-tingz • @mymelodysbreakfastburrito • @tadashi-simp • @bbyouamazin • @1987hotschott • @elianetsantana • @sunflowerirl • @amberalisa • @animeboihoe • @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney • @xo-lovelyreign-xo • @vitalthot • @starry-magicshop • @mariachiii • @karasunobbys • @underratedmage • @seomisaho • @timeturnerss • @h0ngh0ngh0ng • @myeggodied • @nekomacam • @smuttyanimeslut • @iminlovewhaikyuu • @saturnfarie • @dreamstormings • @spikertrash • @just-snog-already • @quiche-inoya • @strawbabytsukki • @sky-has-a-main-ig • @xxsweetbubblegumxx • @imnotyourramonaflowersbruh • @naimalove143 • @bakarinnie • @bakudad • @birdiewolf • @letthemreadfanfiction • @tsukkiboii • @misluck

[neoaevis]

How Much I Love You/Hate you

How Much I Love You/Hate you

Word Count: 2654

Warnings:Smut(Use of the word slut, Boss kink, Over Stimulation, Male and Female receiving, Dom Mark, Pregnant Sex, Office Sex, Unprotected Sex(Don’t forget to wrap it), Cheating,Mentions of the word gold digger , Angst,Violence;punching and mentions of hurtful words(that’s it ig pm me for more)

!! NOT PROOF READ!!

A/N: Hello my dear bbys I finished the second chapter and I really hope y’all like it and just like I said it will be indiv story first and in around the third chapter we will see some interactions between our main characters but well lol depends in what I write, I really hope you enjoyed this as much as I did lol and please don’t hate me if you don’t also don’t copy any of my works,you may also chat me for suggestions or give me some asks of atw with things you are curious  about and btw I will open the taglist so send me a message if you wish to be tagged enjoy💋

Chapter II

Day Before Heading To Korea

“That was amazing but can be better” Mark says as he stands up away from the girl that was shaking from the sex they just had. Mark was in a meeting that was honestly really boring when one of the intern that he has  been flirting around with started palming him under the table that makes his eyes grow wide and his dick erect, originally he wanted to keep his dick inside his pants but she palmed her faster which made him hornier, so in the middle of the meeting he stood up and made everyone confused from his actions and people asking in small murmurs if something was wrong “Let’s continue this later, lunch break” he said with a loud enough voice.

He walked to the door signaling the girl to follow him into his office once she was inside he locks the door shut pressing the girl’s back to the door “What a fucking slut you are” he said with absolute dominance that makes the girl shiver ” I w-want you sir” she said as he tries to grab Mark’s face to kiss him in which Mark refused “You are not allowed to touch me” he removes his tie grabbing the girl’s hand and tying it hard enough that it will surely bruise, due to Mark’s action she feels her clit’s dripping wetness, Mark started by removing her blouse and tossing it just wherever, seeing the lace underwear she wore his eyes grew full with lust, he went to her neck hungrily leaving small marks as he unclasp her bra, he removes her skirt now carrying her towards the sofa near his  table, he opens her legs harshly, rubbing her clit he said “Your this wet, I’ve barely done anything” he grinned, the girl was unable to open her legs from too much pleasure in which Mark reacted to by opening it wider “I’m going to punish you and make sure you will regret what you did” he exclaimed while ripping the girl’s panty, he sucked her clit harshly tightly grabbing her thighs, he then moves his tongue down her entrance which makes the girl release a loud moan, he stops and grabs her neck pulling it towards his face “You’re too loud do you want everyone in the office to know how dirty you are” his statement makes the girl’s voice hitch and even before she can give a reply he gets back to pushing his tongue in her entrance while rubbing her clit with his thumb, the pressure make the girl see stars all over ”I-I I’m cumming sir” she stated stuttering too much, Mark stops the girl felt the emptiness and she whined “You don’t get to cum yet slut” he said, he pulls her hair making her kneel he unbuttons his shirt and unbuckles his belt pushing down his pants with his boxer “Open your mouth” he orders as he pushed her towards his dick deep down enough for her to gag , he went on and on that the girl is now crying from how it’s too much but not wanting to stop as pleasure spreads all over her as Mark felt he was close the sloppier he got in pushing her, so she took the initiative to suck him on her own and not long after he came in her throat, saltiness filling her palate.

He pulls her bending her over his desk, he thrust inside her slowly before he slams harder and deep “S-sir you feel so good” his ego got boosted with her compliment thrusting harshly to make sure she would have a hard time walking and for her to learn her lesson, he grabs both of her boobs pushing her towards him deepening every thrust and soon after the girl clenched around Mark “You’re cumming huh?” “Y-yes” she said and Mark slaps her but really hard “You need to call me sir for you to cum” he said demanding her to follow “Y-ye yes sir please make this slut cum” soon after she cums and after a few more thrusts Mark follows, he gave her three more sharp thrusts befor pulling out.

“That was amazing but can be better” Mark says as he stands up away from the girl that fell down shaking from sex, “Your on the pill right” he inquired remembering he came inside her.

“Oh shit, I-I’m not on the pill sir” she said while she tries to stand up but fail, Mark then removed his tie from the girl and began collecting his clothes putting them back on one by one.

“I will tell my secretary to buy you some plan B make sure to take it” he said as he pulls his tie up signaling he will be leaving already.

“What if I don’ take it” she asked teasingly but Mark did not take it well slamming his palms towards the desk she is leaning to “Why did you fuck me is to get yourself pregnant for money?” he exclaimed, fear has spread across the girl’s face making her feel small.

Mark grabs his check in his desk and wrote 1 million dollars worth of money “Here’s the money so make sure to take it” he throws it towards her face.

“Are you just going to leave me, how about me right now or my panty at least” the girl said feeling pathetic and which Mark replied with a scoff giving her another check worth another million.

“I believe the money is enough now” he said walking away now and stopping before opening the door to say “I don’t care about you, what we did was just sex and nothing more so get out of here as fast as you can” and he left as anger spread all over him.

Flashback to College

Truth be told Mark is actually sensitive about pregnancy topics, there was this girl that he loved so deeply when he was just eighteen years old her name was Mina, he spent his youth loving and protecting her, she was poor unlike Mark which his parent’s disliked and protested that she was only a gold digger that is after his money, Mark even went through extreme lengths for her, from buying her expensive gifts to giving every part of him, even arguing with his parents every day and when she got pregnant when they were twenty he was extremely happy, he thought his life was complete with her not until one day when he went to her apartment he heard moans from her room “God, Mark doesn’t even know what we are doing, fucking around like this” said Mina “He is like a puppy following you around” exclaimed the man “Baby if not for his money I won’t be even fucking him, nor get pregnant plus you’re way better in bed” she said moaning, it made Mark really angry and pained, he slams the door open to which shocked the both of them.

“What the fuck did you just say y-you” he said as his voice breaks from too much pain that the love of his life gave him “Only loved me for money” Mina get’s herself off from the man as she tries to get close to Mark “ Mark no you, you heard wrong, I love you not because of your money” he pushed Mina away as he made eye contact with the guy making him punch him hard releasing all the anger “ I did not hear wrong, how dare you cheat on me” he said eyeing Mina, she begged Mark all over and over  and the man she was having sex with said “Just leave that good for nothing asshole Mina” his words made every vein from Mark pop that’s why he punches the guy again and again and again in which the guy returned but Mark was overpowering as he threw more punches, Mina tried to stop them both but she was too weak to stop them soon after he gave the final punch that made the guy fall “I am not good for nothing, in fact I have money which both of you don’t have” he said in the most angry tone he has ever been, Mina and the guy was left shocked with his words they felt very belittle by it “And for you Mina, I loved you and all along my parents were right you are nothing but a gold digger” it made Mina cry even harder, regret filling her all over as she tried to reach Mark only to be pushed away hard enough that her belly hit the side of the bed, soon after that blood filled the room Mark was alarmed remembering his baby so he gave the ambulance a call. When they arrived in the hospital Mina was immediately checked and he found out his baby died his blood and flesh died, regret, blame and all different emotions filled him mostly blaming Mina if she did not cheat on him this will not happen. He left her that day returning to his parents because of how sorry he feels he defended her yet they were right all along, after that Mark has changed he no longer is the bubbly and friendly Mark he became a bad boy fucking every single girl not caring about them at all or would have a girlfriend but would cheat on them on multiple occasions, no relationship after Mina lasted as he thought all people care about is money not how he feels.

Day Before Heading To Korea

Walking he saw his secretary slash friend Taeil he immediately orders him to buy the plan B for the girl he just banged or just anything to prevent her from getting pregnant “Sir why do you fuck girls when you don’t want them to get pregnant” his secretary exclaimed “Come on Taeil don’t play innocent who knows you might’ve banged as much as I did or even more” he said teasing him to which Taeil returned with a huge shake of his head “Nope,nope I’m not like you and never will, well infact I am getting married soon” Mark was shocked not really believing Taeil so he slapped his arm “Your jokes are getting better” he laughed while Taeil had a straight face “Im not kidding my girlfriend really said yes and we are getting married” Mark stopped laughing with a face of disbelief that made Taeil chuckle now “Your gonna settle with someone now?” he questions “Hahaha Mark yes I am” he pats Mark’s shoulder “Wow, why is everyone around me getting married, you should know that the single life is way better” he said while clicking his toungue “Being single is indeed better, but when you love someone you would prefer to be with them every minute and every second and then it would be better for you because you love each other” he said lovingly making Mark laugh “You are madly in love hyung” he laughs “I bet when you meet your match you will also be madly in love with her” Mark shook his head showing a big X sign with his arms “Loving someone crazily will only kill you ,plus I know for sure all they want from me is my money” he said protesting and Taeil gave him a comforting smile before he turns his back to return to work.

Mark headed to the rooftop to get some fresh air while doing so he reminisce his past about Mina and Taeil’s words about him finding true love, discovering that there is indeed a part of him that wants to meet someone that loves him for him and not his money but before he could think more he shrugs it off and in que his phone rings and the caller was his Dad, he answers the phone.

Dad : “Son how have you been there in Canada?” his father questions with a giddy tone

Mark: “Here alive and well” he answers bluntly

Dad: “That’s good, how about the company is it doing well?” he questions further

Mark: “Of course it’s doing exceptionally well, is that all you have to ask” he ask as he sense there is something more with his phone call

Dad: ” Well uhm son I need you to come to Korea asap” he said as he cleared his throat

Mark: “How about our company here, it needs me dad” he said, but actually deep down he is not ready to come back to Korea because coming back means revisiting his past.

Dad: “I already fixed that, your brother is coming to Canada to manage the company”

Mark: “But Dad I’m not really sure I actually don’t want to go back”

Dad: “Look Mark, honestly I wanted to ask you kindly first to hear your first reaction but I just want to inform you that even if you say no, I want you to come home here as soon as you can”

Mark: “Dad but I- I ok fine yes I will come go to Korea as soon as I can but do I just leave?”

Dad: “Yes Mark and starting the day you come back here you will manage the company in Korea plus you need to attend a charity ball this week Saturday”

Mark: “ Ok Dad I get it” he said with a defeated tone

And his Dad hangs up, he doesn’t really want to go and feels very hesitant having an inner conflict with himself, his phone rang again and the caller this time is Taeil telling him to get back to the meeting as lunch break was already over, he endured several more meetings after another until it was finally over to signify his day will finally end. He went back to his office massaging the temples of his forehead as he sat down to think about the many things that bothers him, he then pages for Taeil through his phone, Taeil rushed to see him asking what are his orders for him, Mark stood up and told Taeil “Book me a flight to Korea tomorrow” Taeil took note of it as schok embodied him “Tomorrow sir? And Korea?” he knows that Mark hates Korea for the reason behind it being Mina but he repeated “Yes tomorrow to Korea also you are coming with me” he said as he grabs his things preparing to leave work “B-but sir why shall I come with you and how about my wedding?” he inquires worriedly “It’s part of your job as my secretary and as for you wedding if your soon to be wife loves you so much she can wait oh and make sure it’s a one way ticket” Taeil was very schoked with Mark’s action but before he can speak up more Mark was waves him goodbye making his exit.

The next day Mark woke up with a not so good mood, he made his secretary Taeil pack for him and for which Taeil cursed him for, after packing they head in to his car to drive to the airport Mark tried to get some sleep but he can’t seem to get some with all the flashback memories filling him, they arrived in the airport, checked in and headed to the first class seats of the plane, the whole plane ride was spent with drinking, sleeping and eating for he past 15hrs and after all that has passed he finally hears the flight attendant proclaim” Flight #127 to Seoul South Korea has now landed” and there he was in the land he long abandoned, the land filled with bright yet devastating memories, he shut his eyes preparing himself, as he finally left the plane he feels the jet lag kicking and decided to go to his parents house, just as he thought everyone was asleep due to the very dim lighting he was surprised by his parents with a huge “WELCOME HOME” banner, and he thought to himself “This is it Mark you are really here”.

“All Rights Reserved”  © sibehpoor  2021

[caramelmochacrow]

u can call me crow, i draw and write so u might see some posts abt my drawings and writings.

DNI if u just want to be an asshole or annoying. as long as ur chill we're chill. if i feel uncomfortable w u i might block u. sorry, no hard feelings. i just want to feel comfy here. i am a minor btw so keep that in mind when u interact w me.

if i say/do anything that is harmful to you or other people please tell me and explain to me what i did wrong i so wont repeat it, i want to learn from my mistakes.

i have a tendency to overreact and be super emotional abt stuff, especially when it comes to stuff i like, if u see me post in all caps, post a lot of mashed keyboard stuff, and maybe cursing a bit, that's just me being extremely emotional, sorry in advance.

i explain things really weird, so im sorry in advance, u can ask me to explain further to clear things up.

i might make vent posts from time to time, i wont be putting them in my talking tag and will add a cut before it so u may avoid it.

please dont repost my art, i'll allow you if you ask and tell me what you're going to do w it.

u can find me on ao3 as dat_toffee_crow, i got a ton of aa fics and im currently working on an au called Phoenix Wright: Ex Babysitter! (currently on hiatus tho, im not yet in the right mind to work on it yet ahaha....)

but! if u arent here for my aa stuff, i also write d4dj fics (and on the way to write bandori ones) and maybe a few king of fighter ones.

speaking of, my main interests at the moment are d4dj, bandori, and ace attorney. i also like a couple other stuff like revue starlight, revolutionary girl utena, major/major 2nd, haikyuu, blue period, kof, guilty gear, greek mythology, norse mythology, pokemon, and digimon. im also a fan of birds so u might see me rbing some posts abt them.

a couple of my comfort/favorite characters from my main interests are (comfort characters are bolded):

d4dj: all of rondo, all of merm4id, all of peaky p-key, sophia abyssmare, saki izumo, hayate tendo, kokoa shinomiya, noa fukushima, weronika abyssmare, and rei togetsu.

bandori: moca aoba, chu2 (chiyu tamade), all of hhw, all of roselia, tomoe udagawa, MASKING (masuki satou), LAYER (rei wakana), kasumi toyama, tae hanazono, hina hikawa.

ace attorney: ema skye, kay faraday, sebastian debeste, klavier gavin, apollo justice, trucy wright, and athena cykes.

[kuromichad]

the main thing that bugs me about ao3 discourse is i just. i never see anyone lay out what they actually Want from ao3 besides 'delete everything i think is bad' like theres no. sense of practicality? what exactly do you want added to the tos. what is the exact expected process for reporting fics and evaluating those reports. disclaimer before anyones like 'Oh so youre unilaterally defending them' i do extremely think they should at the least not allow rpf of irl minors. but when it comes to enforcing policies that aren't related to like, laws, i just wonder how you expect it to work... should they just delete anything/anyone who gets reported a lot, like plenty of sites do? then people are gonna exploit that system and get people mass reported over petty shit, just like on twitter. should there be a moderation team instead? who picks that team? who's on that team? what if the team makes decisions you don't like?

especially when you're talking about creating some kind of policy for 'eliminating racist content,' like-- what counts? i'm guessing that like, troll works that are just a wall of slurs already get deleted (if they don't then they should be because that's pretty simple) but like. who decides what's 'bad enough' to merit outright deletion? if it's done by volume of reports, wouldn't that essentially be arbitrary moderation because it depends on a random group of people who potentially all have different problems with a fic and those problems can vary wildly in severity? like, what about when it comes down to nuances of how a character is treated? dramas like we had with finnpoe discourse, where either character topping might invoke different racist tropes, so how does one walk the line and how do you cope with how not everyone who attempts to walk it will be successful?

i saw one post giving the example of a fic that just like, rewrote the events of last year's protests to be set in the transformers universe, and yeah that's tasteless, there's been offensive 'current events' fic happening for a long time and it sucks. but should there be an explicit ban on that genre? how would that clause be worded? does Everyone agree that it's something that's impossible to do tastefully? if a black person does want to work through their feelings on current events through fanfiction, is that still banned because it's presumably impossible to do well, or should it be allowed because they have the right perspective? do they have to meet a certain standard of 'doing it right', and who evaluates that? and how are ao3 moderators supposed to know or believe they have that perspective? (we've already seen people racefaking to get 'permission' to write tacky racist fic just due to social pressures. imagine the lengths people will go to if their work or account is on the line.)

like-- sorry if this is a gauche comparison but since it's something i'm familiar with and able to speak on. what if the next wave of criticism is 'ao3 needs to crack down on transphobic content'? how will you define that, beyond 'delete fake fics that are just slurs'? would entire tags like omegaverse, or 'boypussy' and 'girl!penis', or even 'genderbend' get deleted? what about trans authors using those tags? do we become the only ones allowed because we can do it 'correctly'? how do we deal with the fact that not all trans people agree on what's 'correct'. like i don't think genderbending is inherently transphobic, it's down to individual choices and portrayals. same with omegaverse, same even with 'boypussy/girl!penis', since like. people might take issue with the entire premise of 'characters have this type of body and it just doesn't like, mean anything' as being fetishizing of trans bodies/erasure of trans experience and i sympathize with that. i'm not certain where i fall on the matter either, it's very much a case by case thing.

so then, how do you moderate that? do we get rid of those tags because someone decided nobody can use them responsibly or should like the premise at all? again, do we appoint moderators to decide when an idea is handled 'correctly' and again, who are the moderators? what happens when they make a decision you don't like? how do you distinguish between fic with a 'wrong' premise and fic with an 'okay' premise that is executed imperfectly and leads to interpretations or implications that upset people, especially when many fic writers are young and amateurs? should someone who made mistakes be punished with deletion just as much as someone who, like, intentionally wrote character-bashing/abuse fic for racist/transphobic/etc reasons?

like, none of what i'm asking here is supposed to be applied to general discussion of these subjects, it's not like i think offensive content should never be taken down, i'm not pulling some kind of 'everything Could be offensive so actually nothing is' or 'if they didn't mean to then it doesn't count' or anything like that. but we aren't talking about interpersonal discussions, or the handling of mass media, or anything like that. we're specifically talking about the concept of 'just delete everything that's offensive and exploitative' and how that would potentially be implemented. because ao3 is not a person who said something tasteless on twitch and can be reasoned with and led to make an apology. ao3 is a website hosting all sorts of ideas from millions of users, specifically in the form of fiction, and the way fiction conveys biases and shapes people's thinking is itself a really fucking complicated subject, and people are trying to demand that they try to tame that massive volume of content from different people in very specific ways, with no suggestion of how to actually go about doing that.

i know you think 'delete the stuff thats obviously bad' is a simple principle but it's literally not because no two people will ever 100% agree on what's 'obviously bad', particularly in this case because people don't consistently agree on whether depiction always equals endorsement AND it's so difficult to reliably tell whether depiction that seems to be endorsed was intended to be endorsed. so again, the primary, most practical options for 'delete things that are bad' are to either delete everything that anyone reports for any reason or to have moderators that make flawed human choices. i just want to feel like any of the people making 'ao3 bad' posts have actually like, considered that, and have some sort of opinion on which one it should be, if theyre gonna fight about this.

and, yknow, if they did have to hire a massive team of additional moderators to actually read every fic and take the time to make subjective decisions about whether it's offensive... they would need to pay those people... and they would still need donations. so lmao.

im not saying like 'youre not allowed to want things to change' like there's definitely room for improvement but. please god. start explaining what you want those changes to be because 'delete everything i personally think is bad' is not a moral imperative or a coherent category or a helpful suggestion in the least, if you think with your brain and not your gut instinct of disgust.

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe Interval: Clumsy

this is unbelievably self-indulgent because i swear i have written variations of this scene about 100000 times but who CARES! such is the joy of writing. i fell on my keyboard and this appeared so im posting it

-

Master was working on a big project. Had been for almost a week, now. He spent most of the daytime holed up in his office, and Rowe had taken it upon himself to make him cups of tea throughout the day. It was to please his Master, of course, and keep him calm. A stressed out Master often came up with particularly sadistic ways of letting off steam.

But Master never seemed too stressed when Rowe disturbed him. Every time Rowe knocked on the door and Master saw the mug in his hand, his face just lit up. Like he was surprised by it every time. Rowe had to admit that seeing his Master so happy made him feel happy. Master was always so kind to him, even though just because Rowe was bringing him tea, he was still troubling Master with his useless self.

"Rowe! Thank you so much!" he would say. And then, "Did you make one for yourself?" or "Here, have a biscuit. Dip it in your tea like this." or "Thanks for coming up, pal. Breaks up my boring day, seeing you."

It made Rowe feel good. He was making Master Tomas happy. He was being useful. At the end of every day Master would slope downstairs, giving Rowe a tired smile and stretching until his joints cracked.

Master’s house was warm, and Rowe’s bare feet made little noise as he padded forward to kneel at Master’s feet, to beg for Master to let him eat that night.

"Rowe- please, please pal, you don’t have to beg."

You always say that! thought Rowe, not budging from his submissive position on the floor. But I will, Master. Because I’m good. To show you that I can be a well-trained Pet.

Master didn’t seem to expect much of Rowe, he had realised. Rowe wasn’t surprised- he had been tossed out, after all- but he always did his best to prove to Master Tomas that he knew how to behave.

Rowe sometimes wondered if Master had wanted a disobedient Pet, to have the fun of breaking them again, but then if he wanted to hurt and break Rowe he could anyway. Master could do as he pleased, and Rowe was certainly far from a perfect Pet. In fact, he messed up all the time, but Master hardly seemed to notice. It confused him to no end.

"Of course you can eat, pal" Master said, and Rowe’s chest lifted with relief. He had done enough- he had been obedient, and useful, and Master was pleased with him. He was allowed to eat.

Dinner with Master Tomas was still incomprehensible, but Rowe thought he liked it. Master let him sit at the table, and eat when he ate, and he gave him proper food! Food that was warm and tasty and good enough for Master, since he always ate the same. Rowe promised himself he wouldn’t let it go to his head. He was still only a Pet, after all.

After, Rowe washed up. He liked it- it was simple, and easy to do correctly. That was- until his hands, slippery with soap, lost their grip on a plate and sent it crashing to the floor. The smash was sickeningly loud.

Rowe’s eyes widened as he stared at the shards scattered across the floor. He started trembling, all his training flashing before him. He was so bad. He had broken one of Master’s things. Breaking something of Master’s meant being punished. It meant being hurt and bleeding and sobbing for forgiveness that never came because how could such a useless, insolent Pet ever earn mercy?

He saw Master approaching him and backed away before he even realised what he was doing (trying to get away- that was an extra punishment), and time seemed to slow down as Master’s face twisted from mere surprise into something much worse. And then he was rushing towards Rowe and grabbing him roughly, swinging him off the ground and pinning him to his chest. Rowe cried out in fear- it had all happened so fast!- and went limp in Master’s arms.

. . .

"Whoa, there," Tomas breathed, hoisting Rowe off the floor and away from the sharp pieces of ceramic. "I’m sorry for grabbing you, pal. You were about to step right on it and your feet are bare."

Rowe didn’t reply, which didn’t surprise him. It unnerved Tomas every time he felt Rowe go pliable against him, even though he knew he couldn’t help it. He had who-knew-how-many years of training under his belt, all telling him that if he slipped up, made any mistake at all, he’d be beaten until he’d learnt his lesson.

It made his heart ache, to think about it. That for Rowe, one little plate was worth more than him. Master’s possessions are not to be broken- unless that possession is a human being.

He sat down on the armrest of the sofa, Rowe still held tightly against him- too tightly, Tomas suddenly thought. What he could interpret as comforting Rowe would certainly interpret as entrapment.

"You’re okay, you’re okay," Tomas said, gently lowering Rowe’s skinny legs to the floor. Rowe collapsed to his knees, about to scramble away but then seeming to realise that that would only get him into more trouble. Or so he thought. Tomas wished he could snap his fingers and make Rowe’s conditioning melt away.

"I’m s-s-sorry M-Master, I’m s-so-orry p-p-please f-f-forgive me," he whimpered, tripping over every word and shaking like a leaf. "I w-won’t d-d-d-do it again I p-promise, I-I.. I-"

"It’s okay, it’s okay," Tomas soothed. "Shhh."

Rowe fell silent immediately, and Tomas kicked himself, because of course he would. He realised Rowe was crying, big fat tears sliding down his cheeks, and he was clearly doing everything to not make a sound.

"I mean- you can cry. You can speak. But you don’t have to beg."

Rowe sobbed miserably. No begging meant he just had a very scared Pet kneeling before him, waiting for his punishment. God, he wasn’t very good at this. How do you get through to someone who associates the smallest accident with unimaginable pain? Try to use language he can understand, I guess.

"Did you mean to smash the plate?" he asked gently. Rowe’s eyes widened and he flinched violently.

''No! No, n-n-no M-Master please no I d-didn’t, I didn’t I swear, I sw-wear please b-b-believe me, I w-wouldn’t-"

"I believe you," he said. "I believe you. So it was an accident, yes?" Rowe nodded, swallowing thickly through his panic. "Can you say that back to me, pal?"

"It was- was an- an accident, M-Master."

"Okay. I don’t punish accidents." I don’t punish, full stop. "It wasn’t your fault, so you haven’t done anything rude, or naughty, or bad. Okay?"

"B-But the plate…"

"It’s just a plate. I have plenty more."

He could see Rowe slowly working this out. It must be hard, hearing something that went so entirely against everything he knew.

"Just a plate," Rowe murmured.

"Exactly, pal."

-

tagging the T&R crew but as always, let me know if you’d only be tagged in main chapters! <3

@sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @ghostcomit @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lave-e @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly

[hello-yue-here]

Yuetara, zukka, and maiko

yuetara

ship

1) its not one of my main ships. i dont rlly read fanfic for them but if i see a cute fanart of them ill enjoy it and i think i first started shipping it because of good fanarts for them.

2) i like yuetara because of how similar they are. theyre both women from the water tribe. they both understand the misogyny that they have faced. and they both said f sexism im gonna be a strong woman. i also love the tui and la parallel. moon spirit and ocean spirit parallel COME ON. YUE IS THE MOON. KATARA IS THE MOST POWERFUL WATERBENDER. THEY ARE THE OCEAN AND THE MOON. the push and pull they could give eachother. that dynamic ftw.

3) i guess if i didnt like something about this ship would be the fact that if i read a fic or see a fanart w yuetara then than means in that particular au i wont get any yuekka and yuekka is probably my second favorite ship. but then again if i get yuetara than i could get a plethora of other sokka ships to go with it so my sadness disappears in like two seconds. gosh shipping is hard sometimes until you remember ‘hey i have like fifty different universes in my head. all ur ships can coexist in ur brain olivia’ other than that i really see no downsides to this ship. maybe i wish it had more content. maybe if it had more content id ship it a lot more but its not one of the more popular ships so the content is kinda few n far between on my feed.

zukka:

SHIPPP

1) my boys. my babies. my loves. i watched this show for the first time when it came out on netflix and when it ended i really didnt ship anything other than kataang. i came onto tumblr to find fun atla content and one of the very first things i saw under the atla tag was zukka content. i was like oh? whats this? zukka? interesting... i was intrigued so i found a list of fic recs and i fell in love with the ship. the rest is history. its probably my number one ship because it was my very first ship here and im nostalgic

2) oh boy there is so much i like about this ship. i relate to a shit ton of characters in atla. but sokka and zuko may be the ones i relate to most. i relate to sokka because i tend to feel second best a lot to my friends. i try to stay positive but things rarely go the way i plan or hope for them too and while im happy for my friends and their achievements i oftentimes find myself thinking why cant that be me? and i see this a lot in sokka especially in sokkas master. i dont feel special a lot and idk seeing sokka feel the same way and then realizing he is special kinda helped me realize that im special too. on the flipside i relate to zuko because i have wild anger issues and difficulty dealing w my emotions a lot as well. i get broody and short tempered and insecure very often and i tend to push people away and i refuse to ask for help (the amount of teachers and adults and therapists who have told me its okay to ask for help ur not any weaker because of it is astounding. do i listen to them? .....im working on it.) and i saw a shit ton of this in zuko. book one and two zuko rarely asks for help as seen in the blue spirit and zuko alone and he pushes away uncle so many times and even when the gaang iffers to help him in i think its the chase he tells them to leave. when he finally has his redemption and joins the gaang and lets them kinda become a better person i was so happy. i want that for myself yk. seeing him finally win the agni kai and overcome his family that always told him he was nothing was such a win. my sister and i get along but when we were children we were very much like zuko and azula. it was extremely competitive all the time and there was so much toxicity and sibling drama to a concerning extent. we get along great now which im very happy about but yeah their sibling relationship hit a lil too on the nose for me. seeing as i relate to these character so much and want them ti be happy i want to live vicariously through them so seeing them together is amazing for me to project into them. i love projecting onto fictional characters and with them i can project onto BOTH so its a winwin. plus so many zukka fics are so well written and heartwarming and heartbreaking and emotional and fluffy anf UGH the talent here us astounding.

3) what do i not like about the ship? again the list is long. oops. mainly the toxic shippers. there are so many toxic zukka stans that sometimes make it hard for me to enjoy this ship but hey! thats what the block button is for:) i despise how often people infantilize zuko and completely ruin his character for the sake of making him a soft weak lil boy who needs protecting. thats just not zuko for me. and ive seen many many accounts even state that this kind of portrayal of zuko is rooted in racist stereotypes about asian men (now i am white so i personally have never experiences racism but i feel the need to bring that up because it is wrong and attention needs to be brought to it because a lot of poc fans have criticised this) and the same for sokka. some ppl rlly skew his character and make him a big strong brute and hypermasculine and once again poc fans have said that this take is rooted in racist stereotypes. again! these are just my opinions! this is my favorite ship! but i think its important to acknowledge some of the bad parts of our ships as well and be critical where criticism is needed :))

maiko

ship

1) I LOVE MAIKO. “i dont hate you” “i dont hate you too” BRUH. my little heart just burst into flames. im sorry guys but maiko is so cute. they hate everything except eachother. BRUH that is one of the cutest tropes. i shipped them the moment i saw them together onscreen and i was so happy when zukos face lit up in the finale when mai came back.

2) “i hate everything but i have a soft spot for you” TAKE MY MONEY I AM A SUCKER FOR THIS. they are so cute together. like zuko is rarely happy in a majority of atla but mai makes him happy and i- 🥺🥺 HE DESERVES IT. and mai is always so supportive of him. when hes stressing out about the war meeting she tries her best to comfort him. and zuko cares about her too. he may not be the best at showing it but oh my god hes TRYING HIS BEST. i think its a very accurate portrayal of teenage relationships because they arent perfect and they do fight but like,, every teenage relationship does that. and even after everything and how he left her in the fire nation she still had his back at boiling rock. she still risked her life against azula to save his butt.

3) the thing i hate about maiko isnt even about maiko. its about antis who think mai is toxic and that zuko deserves better. that has got to be the worst take ive ever heard. they had a fight in ember island. that is NORMAL. they are teenagers. they are not perfect. but underneath all the rough edges and things they need to work out they still care about eachother so freaking much. i genuinelt believe that neither of them would do anything to intentionally hurt the other and i think thats what matters the most. if anything mai is the best girlfriend in the entire world because zuko fucked up like,, quite a few times. he got rlly jealous and dumped her thru a letter and ppl always say that mai was toxic for being mad at him for those two things. umm she had every right to be mad at him for both of those. and while zuko is allowed to feel his emotions and be angry sometimes as well sometimes he needs to think things thru and realize that hey maybe some if this jealousy is unfounded. BUT EVEN THEN. HE RESPECTED HER FEELINGS AND DIDNT TOUCH HER WHEN SHE SAID DONT TOUCH ME. HE RESPECTED HER. so i hate toxic maiko takes because they are literally so wrong in my opinion.

again all of these are just my opinions!! feel free to agree or disagree but please be respectful!! i will respect whatever u think as well because this is all just for fun :)

[yeojaa]

IDK IF UR STILL TAKING REQUESTS🥺🥺🥺 sorry if IM botherinh😭😭 BUT MYBE A FINDERS KEEP HERS drabble where jk n oc get in to an argument after chap 3 n jk apologizes or something like that😭😭🥺😭🥺🥺

[ read part one / main story ]

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  this is soft angst. JK being his usual idiot self, reader being... well, sad, and yeah. just pain (but w a resolution. ish).  wc. 1.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif beta’d a bit of this but i wrote most of it after so any dumb mistakes are my fault and my fault alone. 🤡  author note.  this isn’t 100% what you requested but... the first part kind of is, and then this is the resolution (because people requested it). if you’d like another drabble, please feel free to request!

In true fashion, Jungkook tries to fix the problem in the only way he knows how:  with money.

He puts the two of you up at the Four Seasons for the entire week, orders room service at all hours of the day and has treats from all of your favourite spots in the city delivered.  (Macarons, candied nuts, that one bakery that does those salted honey pies you inhale like a wild animal.)  He runs baths for you, fills the tub with your favourite scents (always Diptyque) and massages his tattooed hands all over your scalp.  He makes sure you wake up to the smell of French toast and fall asleep on a bed of roses, curled up in his arms and little else.  

He spoils you until you can hardly see the floor, designer shopping bags strewn throughout the suite.  (His sisters help him decide what to buy, mouths sealed shut otherwise.  They know better than to get too involved in his relationship with you.)  Dinner is somewhere new every night but always at a Michelin-starred restaurant, space booked out to the extent it’s just the two of you and a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

Of course, he thinks things are better.  Assumes they must be, because there’s never been a time where money hasn’t solved his problems.  No matter how much, throw enough of it at something and the problem will go away.

But you don’t go away.  Neither does your sadness.

“Baby.”  It’s your last night together before you’re back to some semblance of normalcy (not that Jungkook’s life was very normal to begin with).  He thinks he’ll miss it more than you will, if your lacklustre reactions have been any indication.

You’re fresh out of the shower - you’d turned down his offer of a bath, locked the door on your way into the washroom - and wrapped in a fuzzy white robe.  “What?”  You’re focused on running a comb through your hair, unbothered by your boyfriend who sits at the edge of the bed, legs wide and hands extended toward you.

It bothers him a bit (read: a lot).  You’re better than you were, offering tiny smiles when he begs for them, accepting his kisses without complaint. It isn’t you though.  Not the snark and the sass and the decades of friendship that normally thread your relationship.  A book with its spine about to snap, held together by cobweb.

Despite the time you’ve spent together the last few days - almost every hour, sans when you were at work - you’ve been distant still.  Not mean, of course (no, never mean, because you’ve always been soft on him) but different.  Softer and harder all at once.

“Come here,”  he coaxes, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you between his knees effortlessly.

Normally, you’d curl around his shoulders, rake your nails through his hair.  This time, you only allow yourself to be with him, palms flat upon the ridges of muscle plating his back.  You don’t pass affection into his hair, don’t form a cradle for him to rest his head.  (It doesn’t feel like home - not like it should.)

Jungkook hates it.  Absolutely fucking abhors it.  He wants his girlfriend - his best friend, his love - back.  Not this spectre that’s taken up your space. 

(He almost forgets that he’s the reason you’re the way you are.)

“What’s wrong?”  The shape of his mouth curls, bottom lip pouting into that trademark expression that usually has you relenting, melting into a puddle of goo in his arms. 

This time, you shrug, movement dislodging the soft soft terry cloth from your shoulders.  “Nothing.”  Dumb as he might be - oblivious in the way only someone like he can be - he can tell you’re lying.  Offering the untruth right between your teeth, expecting him to accept it.

That bothers him even more.  It’s one thing to put up an act, entertain him as if you were a court jester.  It’s entirely another to treat him as if he’s a child, feeding him lies without a care.

(Notwithstanding the fact that Jeon Jungkook is, for all intents and purposes, a manchild.)

“You’re a shit liar,”  he retorts, grumpy, coloured green and blue until his insides feel like mud.  It’s strange, the discomfort that sinks beneath his skin and sticks his bones together.  Like wading through quicksand or a bog, stuck to a place he doesn’t want to be.  “Talk to me.”

“About what?”  You’re deflecting, refusing to meet his stare, holding yourself within the confines of your robe as if you can’t bear to open up to him.

That hurts more than he expects.  Slips sadness in alongside the frustration.

“About what’s bothering you.”  The fact he has to do this is driving him mad.  It’s akin to pulling teeth and he hates the dentist.

You scoff then - which he doesn’t expect.  The sound kicks him right in the stomach, a sucker punch he doesn’t see coming.  “You want me to talk about you?”  It’s an uncharacteristically mean answer, brought on by whatever’s been bothering you, turning blood to battery acid.

“Excuse me?”  

“You heard me.”  

For the briefest moment, he considers lashing out in response - giving back exactly what he’s getting.  But then he spies it, just there, past the usual warmth of your stare.  It’s hiding behind crystallised amber, peeking past the edges.  So much sadness it steals his breath right from his lungs, stripping him bare of red hot fury and leaving him lily white and lovesick.   

When Jungkook speaks again, it’s feather soft, terribly light, begging and pleading in a single utterance.  “Please.”

There’s silence for a beat, then another.  It stings for each second it continues, treading misery all over the thing that beats in his chest.  He’s not used to this.  (You’re his first and only love.  A part of him is grateful for that;  another hates even this.)

He almost asks again - readies it on the tip of his tongue.

Then you’re unloading, giving him everything he’d asked for and more.   

“I love you,”  you tell him in a reedy voice, uneven like the foundation you’ve built together.  Haphazardly thrown into place and hoped for the best on.  “But you’re an idiot.”   

(He deserves that, he supposes.)

Your voice is static, stretched thin and gossamer thin.  Cheek pressed to his curls, you find comfort in your hiding place, as if shielded by the dark.  “I’ve loved you for years and that’ll never stop.  But when you do stupid shit, it’s so hard.”  Your words are honeyed, thick and heavy as they lay into each strand, seep quietly into his ears.  Where they’d normally fill him with ecstasy, delight, send him on a sugar high - these ache, sink right to the pit of his stomach.  “I would give you anything.  Anything.”

“I know.”  Really, he does.  He’s known that since you were kids.  It’s why he’d fallen in love with you, even before he’d realised he had.

“Then why do you test me?”  

It’s not rhetorical.  You want an answer - something real you can hold between your hands.  Something to act as the salve for all the hurt, to bandage the wounds left behind by your uncertainty.  (He’s the same as you - needs to know he means as much to you as you do him.  But you show it in different ways and that’s what’s brought the two of you to this point.)

“I’m sorry,”  he answers, sliding his arms more securely around your waist, face buried into the soft fabric of the robe, into the warmth that lies beneath, into the heart that beats a rhythm identical to his.

“I don’t want sorry.”  After all, you’d already gotten one.  Weeks ago, when he’d pulled the stupid sophomoric stunt, he’d apologised.  Had been apologising every day since then, but in all the wrong ways.  “I want better.” 

It’s as if all of his bones have been cracked open, the weight of your words settling like sand, discomfort and grit snapping his head to attention.  “You want better?”  There’s nothing but alarm in Jungkook’s expression, eyes wide, throat knotted in worry.  “I—”

As always, you read him like an open book.  Hands smooth down the sides of his cheeks, palms searing over his reddened cheeks.  “Not like that.”  You’re reassuring him even as it should be the other way around.  (How ironic.)

He exhales a deep breath.  Doesn’t tear his stare from yours.  

“I just need you to be better.”  You’d never ask this of him if it weren’t important, if you didn’t feel his ignorance and immaturity splintering your insides into glass shards.  You’ve always accepted him exactly as he was, all the good and bad and ridiculous.  

This is different though.  You love him.  You’re taking a chance with him just as he is with you.  Laying your heart in his hands and trusting him to keep it safe, handing out the key in the hopes of building a home.  

So you ask - for both your sakes. 

He promises he will be and you believe him.  Have to.

For both of your sakes.

[simplybakugou]

OKAY I JUST READ YOUR SHORT STORY ABOUT BAKUGO HAVING A QUIRKLESS KID AND CRAZY IDEA BUT WHAT IF MIDORIYA, WHO’S STILL IN TOUCH WITH BAKUGO, WAS LIKE A CLOSE FAMILY FRIEND OR SUM AND GOT ALONG GREAT W KATSUO. idkidk but im sure deku would truly understand how katsuo feels so he’d kinda take him under his wing and “guide” him as he grows up AND MAYBE ONE DAY PASSES ON ONE FOR ALL TO HIM ? CRAZY IDEA BUT IT JUST POPPED INTO MY HEAD WHILE READING IT.

⋆ PAIRING: dad!bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; angst ⋆ WORD COUNT: 6126

A/N: I was already planning on making a part 2 for this but you guys beat me to it! And this is so long, I didn’t mean for it to be so long but so many ideas kept coming to mind lol. This is also my way of contributing to Bakugou’s birthday because I’m too depressed and sad to do anything else for him :) Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy :)

Link to part 1 is here!

✐posted 04.20.2020✐

“You’re all done!” You exclaimed, patting one of your patient’s back as you wrapped up the bandage. “Remember to not put too much pressure or overwork your arm otherwise it won’t heal properly. Please contact the hospital if you have any other abnormal pains.”

The young woman smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Bakugou-san. No wonder you’re so famous!”

You smiled and thanked the woman as she exited the room. Your nursing assistance, Hana, walked into the room, holding her clipboard of all of your appointments in hand. “Hana, do I have any more appointments?”

Hana looked down at the clipboard, shaking her head. “No, you’re clear for the afternoon.”

You nodded, thanking her and pulled your phone out from your pocket as you walked out into the hallway. There were numerous missed calls from Aldera Junior High, Katsuo’s school. A sigh escaped your lips, already knowing that the meaning of the call couldn’t be good. You dialed the phone number and called back.

“Hello, this is the office of Aldera Junior High, how can I help you?” A man’s voice asked from the other line.

“Hi, my name is Bakugou Y/N and I was just calling back after receiving some missed calls from this number.”

“Oh, Bakugou-san! Let me redirect you to Principal Hirai. She will answer your call shortly.” The line was momentarily cut off until you were redirected to the principal’s phone.

“Hello, this Principal Hirai. Is this Bakugou-san?” 

“Yes, it is. Sorry about not answering your previous calls. I had a few appointments to take care of at the hospital here.” You took off your white lab coat and sat down in your office.

“No worries, I understand how busy and hard you work. I called because there was an… incident here.”

You furrowed your brows. “Incident? Is it about Katsuo? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine but he did get into a fight with another student here. His mother is here in my office now and I would like you to come as well. I tried calling your husband but he is currently on duty so that’s why I called you,” Principal Hirai said.

“I understand. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” You hung up, setting your phone down on the table. Your fingertips rubbed small circles into your temples as you could feel a migraine forming. Katsuo, despite being a carbon copy of his father, had your temperament, making him calmer and less aggressive than his father. That was why you were shocked to find out he had gotten into a fight, something that is not in his character. 

You grabbed your coat, phone, and bag, approaching the front desk of the hospital. “Hana, call me if I get any other appointments. I’m taking my lunch break early.”

Hana nodded, waving good-bye to you as you made your way to your car and Aldera Junior High.

***

The doors were light as you pushed open the doors to the main office of the school. A man, most likely the one who you were on the phone with, greeted you. “Bakugou-san? You can take a seat right there. Principal Hirai will be right with you.”

You nodded, looking over to where he was gesturing. In the seats was your son who had a tissue in his right nostril to stop the bleeding as well as a bruise on his right cheek. He looked up at you, his crimson eyes widening at the sight of you. “Mom!”

You sighed, walking over and sitting down next to him. You cupped his face in your hands, examining his face. “You don’t look too beaten up but that bruise will take a few days, maybe weeks, to heal.”

Katsuo looked at you with a puzzled expression. “So… you’re not upset?”

“Of course I’m upset!” You exclaimed. “Why would you get into a fight, Katsuo? It’s not like you to do something like this.”

Katsuo scoffed in a manner similar to Bakugou himself. “That bastard Watanabe is a piece of shit.”

You felt your eye twitch at the sound of your son cursing, normally reprimanding him for doing so but deciding not to now since he seemed so upset. “He was picking on a kid in class for not showing him the answers on the test so I just wanted to tell him off for picking on someone like that. But then he started getting all pissy, talking about me being shitty for not having a quirk and then he…”

Katsuo looked over at you, looking away after his eyes met yours. “Then he what, Suo?”

Katsuo sighed, looking down at his hands. “He started saying that I’m probably quirkless ‘cause ‘my bitch of a mother’s shit quirk was too weak to pass on’ and that it was ‘her fault for making such a fucked up kid.’”

Katsuo looked back up at you, holding your hands in his. “But your quirk is so cool, Mom! No one else thinks it’s shitty or anything! Everyone thinks that you’re amazing for protecting and saving so many people and they all admire you for it! I admire you for it! Even if you aren’t a pro, you’re my hero, Mom.”

You smiled at him, raising your hand up and caressing his blonde hair down. “When did I get such a sweet and caring son? You didn’t have to say anything, Suo, I’m proud of you for sticking up for your classmate.”

He smiled back at you, looking over to see the man at the front desk smiling at the sight of a mother comforting her son. Katsuo blushed, rubbing his neck. “I-It was nothing, Mom.”

The door labelled ‘PRINCIPAL’ in black, bold letters, opened up. Principal Hirai gestured at the two of you to come in and you both got up to enter her office. Inside was an older woman and a young boy, who was even more beat up than Katsuo with a large band aid covering the bridge of his nose as well as a black eye. It seemed like even quirkless Katsuo was capable of showing his strength and protecting himself. Katsuo sat down on the chair next to Watanabe and you sat beside your son.

Principal Hirari sighed, folding her hands together on the desk. “Thank you both for being able to come here today, especially you, Y/N, with your busy schedule.”

The mother scoffed, crossing her arms. “What? Being a little doctor means she gets more praise than me?”

“No, not at all, Aiko. But let me get to why I had you come here in the first place. From what I’ve heard from Mashiho, he was minding his business when Katsuo came over and kept initiating a fight. Then he punched his face, forcing Mashiho to have to fight back.”

Katsuo stood up from his seat, eyes widened and teeth clenched together in anger. “You liar! You threw the first punch! And you were the one who kept picking on Asahi!”

Watanabe rolled his eyes at him. “I didn’t do any of that, Principal Hirai. Who are you going to believe: the kid with respectable parents or the brat with a sad excuse of a father who uses his aggressive behavior to call himself a hero?”

Katsuo grabbed Watanabe by the collar, pulling him up to his feet. “I dare you to say that again, you fucking piece of shit.”

You stood up, pulling Katsuo back and making him sit back down. “That’s enough, boys. I’ve heard enough,” Principal Hirai said.

Aiko began comforting her son in her arms. “Oh, my poor baby! Hirai, as you can clearly see, that barbaric kid is the one responsible for all of this! But you can’t blame the kid for being like that, since his parents can barely take care of one kid, let alone two. I mean how many times has that behemoth of a hero caused damage to the press. He’s better off being a villain than a hero if you ask me.”

Your hands clenched into fists. “Good thing no one was asking you, ‘cause the next time you even think about insulting my son or my husband in front of me will be your last.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Principal Hirai commanded. “It’s clear to me what happened.”

“Good, so I’m glad that that brat will be taken care of,” Aiko huffed.

“No, the exact opposite will be happening,” Principal Hirai said, eyeing Aiko. She looked over at Katsuo, smiling. “Katsuo has never gotten into this kind of trouble. Nor have I ever gotten complaints about him from the teachers. In fact, they say that he will most likely be the valedictorian for this year’s class. I only expect good things from him and I can see that you and your husband have done an excellent job raising him and Suki, who also is doing well in her classes here. I also want to thank you and your husband for everything you do for the people and so selflessly as well.”

You smiled, bowing your head at her. “Thank you for your kind words and taking care of my kids, too.”

Principal Hirai nodded, her smile disappearing as she looked at Watanabe. “Mashiho, on the other hand has caused more trouble than any other child in this building. There have been numerous cases where he has bothered other students for his benefit. I’m sure that if Katsuo didn’t step up and defend his classmate, Watanabe would have continued this behavior. Therefore, I’ve decided to suspend Watanabe for three weeks.”

Aiko and Watanabe stared at Principal Hirai with wide eyes and they both jumped out of their chairs. “This is outrageous! Look at my baby, look at how beat up he is because of that little shit!”

Principal Hirai looked at Aiko with disgust. “I also advise you, Aiko, to learn some manners as well because I won’t allow any adult to address my students as ‘little shits.’ I won’t be changing my mind. Please leave my office and do not return.”

Aiko, who was enraged, got up and grabbed her purse in one hand and her son in the other as she stormed out the door, cursing as she did so. Katsuo snickered and you nudged his leg to make him stop. Principal Hirai sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I really do apologize for making you come all the way here for such a nuisance. I’m sorry to you, too, Katsuo for having to deal with this.”

Katsuo grinned at her. “It’s nothing. If I’m being honest, I only fought back ‘cause he talked shi– I mean bad about my mom.”

You ruffled his hair, bowing and thanking the principal. “Thank you so much. If it’s alright, I’d like to sign Katsuo out for the rest of the day.”

Principal Hirai nodded. “You can sign Suki out as well as my way of showing my thanks for everything you and Ground Zero do for the world.”

You and Katsuo thanked her once again, going out into the office and having the man at the desk call Suki’s teacher to have her come down. Suki was your daughter, two years younger than Katsuo. Unlike her older brother, she had inherited your healing quirk. The difference was that she inherited Bakugou’s special sweat where she is able to heal using her sweat. Although she still can’t use it to the best of her abilities, she does try and train it as best as she can.

As you signed your children out, Suki opened the doors with a large grin on her face, most likely due to the fact that she got to leave early which was practically every child’s dream. She made a face once she saw her brother’s bruises. “God, what happened to you?”

Katsuo rolled his eyes at his little sister. “I’ll tell you later.”

***

“And then, I used just one drop of my sweat and it healed her paper cut! Isn’t that great, Mom? I’m showing so much progress!” Suki said, her face lit up with excitement as she latched her arm around yours.

Katsuo scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to be able to do more? You’re in sixth grade now and that’s all you can do?”

You nudged Katsuo’s side. “Progress is still progress. I’m proud of you, Suki.”

Suki grinned at you, sticking her tongue out at her brother. Katsuo flipped her off when you weren’t looking. It was bright outside, the sun beaming down on the three of you as you took your kids out. Although you didn’t want him to get into fights, you were proud of your son for sticking up for his classmate and defending himself even without a quirk. There was no doubt in your mind that he would become a great hero just like his father.

Katsuo extended his arm out in front of the two of you, causing you to stop walking. He pointed down the road. “There’s a bunch of reporters there. If we go down this way, they’ll just ambush us and ask a bunch of questions about Dad.”

You nodded, looking down the street that was a bit dimmer as it wasn’t exposed to the sun’s rays due to the ginormous trees on the sidewalks. “This road looks better. It’ll take us a bit longer to get back to the car but that’s fine.”

“Do you think we’ll run into Dad or another cool hero on the way?” Suki asked excitedly as the three of you began walking down the narrow, desolate road.

“It’s possible, but I’d rather not ‘cause heroes only show up in times of need and that would mean a villain would be here,” you said. 

“Do you think there are people out there that hate Dad?” Katsuo asked.

“I’m sure there are. Just as there are people who love and admire Dad for everything he’s done, there have to be people who despise him for getting in the way,” you stated. Your phone began buzzing in your pocket, looking at it to find an alert from a ‘villain movement app,’ one that notifies you when there is criminal activity in the area. WARNING: Level 5 villain, Gamma, is in the area. Be cautious.

“Gamma? Who’s that?” Suki asked.

“He was a villain that Dad and Uncle Deku faced a few years ago. He got away from police custody but no one’s heard from him since. We should get to the car as fast as we can before anything happens.”

“Too bad I got to you first,” a raspy voice called out from a few feet from behind you.

You felt like something was crawling under your skin as you clenched your hands around your kids’ forearms, turning around slowly to make eye contact with a pair of green beady eyes. 

“Mommy?” Suki called out to you softly. Gamma grinned menacingly at the three of you.

“Kids, run that way as fast as you can and get help from the first person you see,” you said in a low voice.

“What about you, Mom?” Katsuo asked, his voice trembling. Although he had never seen Gamma, obviously, he remembered watching the news feed of his father and Midoriya facing off against Gamma and it was difficult even with their combined strength. 

“Don’t worry about me, and go!” You said, your tone harshening in a way that Katsuo or Suki had never heard.

Suki grabbed her brother’s arm, running in the opposite direction. Katsuo looked behind him, your back faced him and he could see how you were shaking. Gamma took a step forward but you stopped him. “I’m your target, not them.”

Your quirk was in no way suited for combat but you knew you could distract him as much as you could just so that your kids could get away. Gamma grinned even wider. “You think I’ll let those little shits get away?”

Gamma used his quirk to create a solid wall in front of Suki and Katsuo’s path in a similar way that Cementoss’ quirk worked. “Your little husband and that All Might wannabe did this to me!” He pulled down his hood to reveal all of his hair singed off as well as burn markings all over his scalp. “I’m gonna make them feel every ounce of pain I felt.”

Suki began tearing up, clutching onto her older brother as Katsuo held her tightly against him. Gamma smirked. “I’m gonna kill all of you and make that explosion bastard feel so much agony he’s gonna beg me to kill him.”

Gamma moved his arm, his quirk activating to create a branch like substance, wrapping around Suki’s waist. Suki screamed as she was ripped from her brother’s grasp but Katsuo refused to let go of her, holding onto her arms. Although he didn’t have a quirk, he still trained with his father to maintain his physique. Due to Gamma’s strength to have been immensely depleted thanks to Midoriya and Bakugou, Katsuo managed to yank Suki from the cement branch.

Gamma grunted under his breath and you let out a sigh of relief. But it still was far from over. Gamma looked over to Katsuo, snarling at the sight of him. “You look just like him. I think I’ll play around with you until he gets here.”

Your eyes widened, looking back at Katsuo as another cement branch grabbed him this time. “Katsuo!” You and Suki called out in unison.

Suki attempted to pull her brother away like he had done for her but she wasn’t strong enough. The cement branch moved towards Gamma, holding Katsuo up in front of him. Gamma activated another cement branch, grabbing Suki and maneuvering it forward so it would grab you on the way. The substance felt like the side of the road was wrapping against your bare skin as the tiny rocks dug into you. You winced in pain and Suki began crying out.

Gamma laughed maniacally. “You all made it too easy! I expected it from the doctor but not from the brats! I expected at least one of you to have that bastard’s quirk!”

The crowd of reporters heard the commotion from the street over, moving to the source of the sound. With little time, the crowd continued growing as they all watched on, unable to do anything other than watch. 

The cement dug deeper as Gamma tightened its hold around all of you. The silent road was now filled with the sounds of the three of you screaming in agony. You gritted your teeth. “They’re just kids! It should be enough to take your anger out on me, not them! Let them go!”

Gamma shook his head. “I want him to feel as much pain as he can! I don’t give a fuck who gets hurt!” You continued baiting him, angering Gamma even further.

Katsuo grunted, trying to break his arms free or at least move them around. Think, Katsuo, think!

He remembered watching the video of Gamma fighting all those years ago and how he relied on the darkness when using his quirk. It was a long shot, but Katsuo knew he had to do something otherwise his family would be murdered. His fingers snuck into his pocket carefully, pulling out his phone and turning the flashlight on. He shined the light at Gamma’s eyes and Gamma screamed out, his eyes feeling like they were burning. His grip began to weaken and Katsuo broke free from his hold. He continued to shine the light at him as he went over to his mother and sister.

The only way to get them out would be to break the cement. Katsuo didn’t have any tools to do this, having to rely on his fists and the fact that Gamma was weakened by the light to break them free. So Katsuo began punching the cement, his knuckles cracking and bleeding as he pounded relentlessly. 

“Suo!” Suki cried out, tears streaming down her face.

With one final punch, Katsuo broke you and Suki free, falling to the floor. The crowd cheered for Katsuo as you grabbed your son and daughter and ran towards the crowd and away from Gamma. Katsuo continued to shine the light onto Gamma, sighing in relief as he thought they had gotten away.

“Not so fast, you shit!” Gamma yelled, releasing one more cement branch blindly, grabbing Katsuo. He dropped his phone, releasing Gamma from being burned by the light. You moved to grab your son, only to be stopped by the formation of a cement wall, one with numerous net-like holes so that everyone could see what he was about to do.

“All you bastards out there, feast your eyes!” Gamma called out to the crowd. He tightened his grip around Katsuo. Katsuo felt his ribs crack as he let out a blood curdling scream.

“Katsuo!” You called out, covering your mouth as you sobbed. 

Suki fell to the floor beside you, turning around at the crowd. “One of you fucking idiots call for help! He’s gonna kill my brother!”

The crowd flinched at the intensity and vigor of Suki’s voice. One of the reporters had gotten the attention of others around him, and the crowd managed to call over Midoriya who was initially informed about the situation, the perfect person for this. 

“Gamma!” Midoriya called down the road.

Gamma flinched at the sound. “That voice…”

Taking advantage of the diversion and Gamma’s lack of attention, Katsuo pushed his arms out, wriggling his body from Gamma’s clutches. He fell to the floor, groaning in pain. He was broken and bloodied. “Suo!” Suki called out.

Katsuo punched through the wall, managing to break free, falling in front of his mother and sister. He was panting, clutching his side in pain. 

“That damn hero…” Gamma grunted. 

Before Midoriya could make his way through the crowd, Gamma created another branch, one with deadly shards of cement that would surely impale you as he was trying to grab you this time. Katsuo saw this, grabbing his book bag that was strewn on the floor and flinging it at the branch. He threw his body in front of you and Suki.

“Don’t you fucking touch them!” Katsuo screamed, his voice cracking. 

Gamma smirked at him. “Look at you being all brave. Come to think of it, I did hear about Ground Zero having a quirkless son. And you think you can defeat me? You’re just a waste of space!”

“I know that I’m weak!” Katsuo yelled. “I’m quirkless, and I’ll never be as strong as my dad.”

“Suo…” You murmured, holding onto Suki. 

Katsuo looked at Gamma with an intensity in his eyes that matched that of Bakugou’s. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll just let you hurt the ones I love without a fight!”

Gamma scoffed, angered by the child’s tenacity. He created another branch, this time aiming for Katsuo. “It’s over for you, kid!”

“Not while I’m here!” Midoriya called out, finally breaking through the crowd and running full speed at Gamma. “You’ve hurt them enough!”

Gamma flinched as Midoriya used his quirk and landed a devastating punch to Gamma’s large body. His body cracked, weakening his powers immensely. He was already weak due to Midoriya and Bakugou’s efforts all those years ago. 

As Midoriya reprimanded Gamma, Katsuo collapsed to the floor, continuing to clutch his side. You moved to hold him in your arms. “Katsuo, don’t worry I’ll fix you up soon.”

***

“Will he really be okay?” Suki asked, sniffling as she continued to cry.

You smiled softly, caressing her hair. “He’s alright. He has a few broken ribs and broke a few fingers, too. But Katsuo’s the strongest kid I know.”

Suki’s fists shook in her lap as you two sat outside of Katsuo’s room in the hospital. “He’s such an idiot! He should know better than to hurt himself like that!”

You rubbed Suki’s back, leaning your head onto hers. You shivered at the mere thought of Gamma but was assured as the images of Katsuo’s bravery flooded your mind. You knew that he trained with Bakugou since he was a toddler but you had no idea he was so strong, especially without a quirk.

You were broken away from your thoughts as Midoriya walked down the hallway. He smiled as he saw you and Suki. “Are you guys okay?”

You nodded. “Thanks to you, I don’t know what would’ve happened without you, Deku.”

Midoriya smiled sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I was just doing my job! Your son was amazing out there! Speaking of, is he awake?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he wanted a few moments alone to breathe and process what happened so I’m just waiting for Katsuki here.”

“I see. Is it alright if I see him?”

“Go ahead!”

Midoriya smiled at the two of you as he slid the door open, closing it behind him. Katsuo sighed from his bed. “Mom, I said I wanted a few moments alo–”

Katsuo’s eyes widened at Midoriya by the door. “Oh, sorry! I can come back later if you want.”

“No! It’s okay, you can stay!” Katsuo sat up in his bed, wincing slightly. “I actually wanted to thank you for saving us back there.”

Midoriya shook his head, sitting down on the chair beside Katsuo’s bed. “You did so much for your mom and your little sister and I don’t think you understand how you literally saved them. I’m sure if you hadn’t done what you did and protected them in the way that you did, they would have been harmed severely. But you used your own body to protect them.”

Katsuo blushed. Although he was close with Midoriya due to his connection to his father, this was the first time someone other than his parents was commending him for his strength. “I just didn’t want them to get hurt. They’re my family and I think that if I had just done nothing, even though I don’t have a quirk, I would have never forgiven myself if they got hurt.”

Midoriya smiled. “You remind me of myself when I was your age, you know.”

Katsuo’s eyes widened. “What? No way! You’re one of the top heroes, Uncle Deku! You’re as strong as Dad, there’s no way you were like a quirkless loser like me!”

“I was though.” Midoriya paused. “I was quirkless like you.”

Katsuo stared at Midoriya with genuine confusion. Midoriya raised his hands in front of him, showing the numerous scars on his hands. “I was born quirkless but I was given this quirk by someone else. It’s called One For All.”

“You were given your quirk? Is that even possible?”

“This is the only possible way. A long time ago, I met my hero, the past symbol of peace, All Might. He gave me this quirk.”

Katsuo got excited, his eyes shining with excitement. “All Might?! Dad always tells me stories about how cool he was back in the day! And he gave you his quirk? Was that why he retired?”

Midoriya shook his head. “No, you see, that’s not how it works. One For All can be passed down from one person to another and it has been for generations. All Might was given his power by his teacher, too.”

Midoriya looked down at his hands. “I was a quirkless kid just like you when I met him. I thought it was impossible for me to become a hero and so did All Might at first. But then, I tried to save your dad from a villain, even without a quirk, and All Might saw me do it. He saw my drive to save as many people as I could as the perfect thing for the next successor of One For All. So he passed his quirk to me.”

“Dad never told me about that… about the whole villain attacking him.”

Midoriya chuckled. “That sounds like Kacchan. It isn’t something he’s proud of, having to be saved by a quirkless kid. But seeing you throw yourself and do anything to save those that you love, it reminded me of exactly why I wanted to become a hero.”

Katsuo furrowed his brows in confusion at Midoriya. “I like hearing all these stories, but why’re you telling me all this? Isn’t this supposed to be a secret?”

“I’m telling you this because I want to pass down One For All to you.”

Katsuo stared at him with utter disbelief, not believing for a second that he was serious. “Uncle Deku, I really do respect you, but if this is a joke, I think you can stop now.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I’ve never been more serious, Katsuo. Kacchan and Y/N have been telling me how much you’ve wanted to be a hero and I’m sure a lot of people have told you that you wouldn’t be able to be a hero because you’re quirkless. But from one quirkless person to another: you too can become a hero.”

***

Bakugou’s feet moved at a pace that the rest of his body couldn’t keep up with. The moment he heard the news of Gamma attacking his family, he didn’t hesitate to drop everything to rush to your side and make sure all three of you were okay. Midoriya had texted him the location of the hospital and Bakugou cursed under his breath as he had decided to take the stairs to the fifth floor, which was where you were. He even used his quirk to move his body faster, finally reaching the fifth floor.

His crimson eyes scanned the halls and found Suki lying on two chairs outside of a room, you close beside her. You looked up, smiling after seeing your husband. “Katsuki!”

Bakugou didn’t hesitate to hold you in his arms, practically knocking the wind out of you. His calloused hands held you tightly, his head nuzzled into your neck. He was so glad to see that you were alright. Bakugou pulled away, examining your body once more for any external injuries. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Suki and I got away with a few scratches.”

Bakugou’s blonde brows furrowed in worry and concern. “And Suo? What about Katsuo?”

“He has a few broken ribs and fingers. He’ll be okay though.”

“What the fuck happened?”

You smiled at Bakugou. “Katsuo protected us from that villain, Katsu. He did whatever he could to protect us.”

Bakugou stared in silence and relief. He was concerned about his son, slightly aggravated with the fact that he had been so reckless, but he also knew that if Katsuo hadn’t stepped up, you and Suki would’ve been harmed to a degree that Bakugou didn’t even want to imagine.

“He’s in there with Deku if you want to see him.”

Bakugou nodded, moving over to Suki who was fast asleep. He sighed, knowing that she was okay before sliding the door open. Katsuo nor Midoriya heard the door open, Bakugou only seeing the sight of Katsuo in a state of utter shock.

“What the hell did you tell him, Deku?” Bakugou asked, closing the door and leaning against it.

Midoriya flinched at the sudden sound of his voice, turning around to face him. “Oh, Kacchan! I didn’t even hear you come in.”

Midoriya looked back at Katsuo who was looking at his hands, both his hands bandaged up as the aftermath of the day’s events. “Dad, do you think I can be a hero?”

Bakugou sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think what you did today is enough proof that you’re better than half the pros out there. Some of them hesitate to even save people, valuing their life above everything else. But you didn’t even think about that, and even though it was reckless, you’re the reason why Mom and Suki were able to get out of that unscathed.”

Katsuo let out a breathless laugh, his eyes tearing up as he whispered out, “So you think I’m a hero, too?”

“From how shocked you are now, I’m gonna guess and say that this shithead wants to pass down his quirk to you.”

Midoriya and Katsuo looked at Bakugou with shock. “How’d you know, Kacchan?”

Bakugou scoffed. “I wasn’t born yesterday. The moment I heard what happened and how you were there at the last minute, you probably saw that my kid was just like you all those years ago with that fucking sludge monster. And seeing as you’re here and Suo looks like he’s gonna pass out, I figured that’s what you told him.”

Midoriya turned his body around to face Bakugou. “So what do you think?”

“I think that my opinion has nothing to do with this. This is your quirk and it’s your decision for who you want to pass it onto. And it’s up to Katsuo if he wants this.”

Midoriya smiled, looking over at Katsuo. “You see, Katsuo? There are only a few people in my life that know about One For All and All Might and your dad are included. It’s all up to you.”

Katsuo clenched the sheets in his hands. The minute Midoriya had explained his situation, he knew exactly what he wanted. “I’ll do it. I’ll take One For All.”

Midoriya grinned. “Awesome! I knew I could count on you. But, I will say that I can’t pass it onto you for now since I still have so much to do with this quirk. But, I will train you and help your body be prepared for this quirk. I had no muscle training until All Might came into my life but I can see that Kacchan has prepared you well.”

“I–”

The door slid open abruptly, almost making Bakugou fall backwards. You put your hand on his back, pushing him back up. The three boys stared at you in shock and you looked at them in confusion. “What? You guys look like I interrupted a classified meeting.”

Midoriya shook his head vigorously. “N-No! You didn’t interrupt anything!”

“O-kay?” You sighed. “Can you two get out for now? I need to examine Katsuo’s wounds a little more before we can call it a night.”

Midoriya nodded, getting up to leave and sit on the chairs outside of the room. You walked over to Katsuo, sitting on the chair that Midoriya was sitting on. Bakugou unfurled his arms from his chest to his sides. “I’m gonna go talk to Deku.” You nodded and he closed the door behind him.

Bakugou sat down beside Midoriya who seemed to be deep in thought. Bakugou looked over at him. “What, you regretting your decision already?”

Midoriya shook his head rapidly. “No, not at all! I have no doubt that I made the right decision. I’ve just been thinking about when All Might approached me the same way with this quirk.”

He looked down at his hands which had numerous scars. “I want to approach this the right way. All Might was running low on time with One For All and he prepared me as best as he could until the U.A. entrance exams. But I want to make sure that Katsuo’s body will be prepared to the fullest before taking this quirk. You’ve seen it’s backlashes and I don’t want him to have to experience that same pain.”

Bakugou looked over at his daughter, caressing her (H/C) hair. He smiled. “He’s stronger than he looks. He’s my kid after all.”

Midoriya smiled as well. “I figured that much. If he wasn’t strong, he probably wouldn’t have been able to fight Gamma and hold him off as much as he did.”

Bakugou sighed, looking in the opposite direction. “I’m gonna say this once so you better fucking listen up.”

Midoriya looked at him with curious eyes. “Thank you.”

Midoriya became flustered, expecting anything other than a ‘thanks’ from his hot-headed friend. “There’s nothing to thank me for! I didn’t really do anything.”

“You idiot, you’re giving him hope. No matter how strong a person can be, it’s difficult to become a hero without a quirk. I always told Suo that I believed in him and I still do, but I was always worried about what would happen once he faced off with an actual villain.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I didn’t do anything, I’m being honest. He’s always had hope. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to do what he did today. He believed in himself. Besides, I didn’t expect anything else from a Bakugou.”

Bakugou smirked. “Of course, where do you think he got it from?”

Midoriya smiled. “Kacchan, I’m going to make him become an even better hero than you and I. He’s going to be the best hero in existence.”

Bakugou looked over at him. “Damn right he will.”

[georgescatcafe]

but i keep my hands (’til you come into the water)

rating: t warning/s: none pairing/s: georgenap genres/tags: barista george, fluff, humor, flirting, friendship, communication, getting together word count: 22,064 summary: George breathes, and it comes out in a shudder. “Everything about you is so much.” He straightens, meets Sapnap’s eyes. “I’m trying, Sapnap. But sometimes I think you’re just too much for me.”

Or, the one where George is a barista, Dream is Sapnap's best friend, and Sapnap just feels a lot.

+ao3

;;

The first attempt is a disaster. Sapnap should’ve expected it, the object of his desires completely different from who he usually chases after. For one thing, it’s a guy, for another, he’s got his arms crossed, fingers digging harshly into his arms, brows furrowed, lips downturned in a frown. Usually, when someone catches Sapnap’s interest, they paint a more pleasant picture.

Yeah. Not this one.

“I’m working,” he snaps. “I get it, but I really don’t like being flirted with at work.”

“You’re so upfront,” Sapnap replies, smile still on his lips, though he’s certain his ears are turning red as more people turn to look at him where he leans against the counter, probably about to be completely eviscerated by this barista. “I like that.”

He’s not eviscerated. His fate is even worse.

He gets ignored.

“Julia,” George calls, placing down the drink handed to him.

Sapnap steps out of the way as a petite girl with blonde hair takes the drink from the other, delicate fingers curling around the cup, golden-tipped fingers contrasting against the pink of her drink. Sapnap finds himself fighting against the urge to shove his hands in his pockets, remembering something about Dream saying that’s an obvious display of insecurity. And Sapnap isn’t insecure.

He just doesn’t like the way George smiled at the girl as she walked away.

“It’s called customer service, idiot,” Dream tells him later, the two of them having agreed to meet at the library so Dream doesn’t have to smell the coffee that wafts a good way out past the entrance of the Starbucks Sapnap frequents. Sapnap rolls his eyes as he takes a long sip of his vanilla frap, not fully convinced.

“It’s just,” he finally says, drink set carefully down on the table, “it’s like… why did he smile at her like that, when you could barely hear her ‘thank you,’ yet he doesn’t even look at me?”

“Maybe because he told you to leave him alone and you didn’t?” Dream suggests, taking Sapnap’s cup and drawing a smiley face in the condensation. He presents it to the other, only for Sapnap to groan and rub it away. He’s not exactly in the mood for cutesy shit. He says as much.

Dream looks unimpressed. “I’m just saying,” he draws another smiley on the opposite side of the cup, “try respecting his boundaries next time.”

“But I only know him as the barista from Starbucks,” Sapnap whines. “How am I supposed to flirt with him if I only see him when he’s working?”

“Break,” Dream replies, easy.

“Ah.”

Dream sets down Sapnap’s cup, the new smiley still there. “Yeah,” he says, “ah.”

;;

Dream had also advised him to maybe read the barista’s nametag and find out his name, so that’s the first thing Sapnap does when he walks in on Wednesday, eyes going directly to the little plaque on the barista’s apron. GEORGE. Sapnap bites his lip. He can work with that.

“Welcome to Starbucks, would you be interested in trying any of our—oh.” Sapnap looks up from the nametag to see George’s eyes on him, face devoid of any emotion other than perhaps vague disappointment.

“Hi,” Sapnap says.

George’s lips press together, and it’s not a frown, so Sapnap takes it as a smile.

“One venti vanilla frap please.”

“Name?”

“Come on,” Sapnap says. “You so remember my name.”

George hums, brows furrowing as he enters the order into the computer. “You’re right. Something like… ‘nuisance’?”

Sapnap frowns.

“My bad,” George says. “It was ‘annoyance,’ wasn’t it?”

“Ha ha,” Sapnap replies, crossing his arms. “It’s—”

“Sapnap, I know.” George taps the screen and Sapnap tries not to flush at the sight of his wrists. It’s not like they were hidden. It’s not like George is some Victorian lady. Jeez. Embarrassing. And then—

“‘I know’?” he quotes. “So you remembered my name.”

“Kind of hard to forget,” George replies, “since you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he tries, “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were.”

“I’m just determined.”

“Determined?” George repeats, unamused. Sapnap nods. George gives him a long look up and down (and it’s not checking him out, not even close, but Sapnap pretends that’s the case, straightening up and hoping the lighting makes him look good) before sighing and motioning to the person next in line.

Sapnap is ready to continue speaking, but then he remembers the main point of Dream’s advice and instead just rolls his eyes, finding an empty table near the window. 

Better? a text from Dream reads.

Duh, his name is George

George

Yes, George , Sapnap glances up at the barista, who’s now taking the order of a guy definitely taller than Sapnap, and judging by the size of his arms, probably stronger too, and when he walks away, George’s eyes definitely follow him, lips curled into a smile not like the one he wore when the blondie left, but rather… oh, come on. Dude what the hell

What

Sapnap doesn’t take a picture, but he does try his best to describe the other customer to Dream. George was like..drooling over him what the hell!

I doubt it

When Sapnap looks up again, George is most definitely not wiping any drool away from his mouth, instead wearing a polite smile as he takes an older woman’s order. It’s as if Sapnap made up the smile he wore watching that guy walk away.

Ok, he concedes, maybe not drooling, but he definitely like… I dont think Im his type :(

As if u ever gave up that easily, Dream’s reply is fast, and Sapnap smiles as the thinking dots appear. You’re fine, just be yourself and respect his boundaries. I know you, you’re a great guy Sap you’ve got this

He’s right. About… everything. Sapnap slips his phone into his pocket right before he hears his name called. It’s not George calling out the drinks today, whoever was missing the other day now returned to their normal shift. Sapnap accepts the drink with an easy thank you and is about to walk away before he’s struck with an idea.

“Um, excuse me,” he calls to the woman who’s already started to head back to the espresso machine. She turns around and makes her way back over to the counter anyway, brows raised, anticipating Sapnap’s question.

Sapnap leans in some, unsure if he wants George to hear what he’s about to ask or not.

“Um, George,” he starts, and, oh, that’s not a good look. He presses on anyway. “When is… do you know his breaktime?”

“I do,” the woman replies, and Sapnap is ready to be pleasantly surprised, the amount of information this employee is ready to give more than expected, but then she continues, “but legally I’m not allowed to share it with you, and even if I could, I don’t think I would.”

Sapnap tries his best to swallow his disappointment. He’s not sure how he ended up so dumb with hope anyway. “Right,” he says. “Sorry for asking.”

“I suggest not doing it again,” she replies easily, but before she walks away she gives him a soft smile, “but it’s fine.”

Sapnap returns her smile, even as he feels an itch at the base of his neck, only growing as heat spreads under his skin. He’s quick to make his way back to the table, fingers wrapped tight around his frap.

He tries his best not to watch George, appearing as disinterested as he can, up until the other switches places with another employee, now going around cleaning up tables. Sapnap’s been people watching, eyes determinedly looking anywhere but at George, but that fails when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, a napkin falling to the floor, just in reach of Sapnap’s foot. Stretching the tiniest bit, Sapnap catches the napkin under his shoe, pulling it over to him so he can pick it up and throw it away himself. He almost makes a comment to George about his cleaning skills, always one to tease, no matter who it is he’s teasing, but then the napkin flops over the back of his hand and he sees ink on paper.

Mon-Th 8am-4pm break @ 10 lunch @ 12 break @ 2

Sapnap has no idea when George wrote that, if it was while he was still taking orders or if he wrote it while Sapnap kept his eyes out the window, but when he looks up, he finds the barista already watching him, now back behind the till, cheeks pink even as he holds Sapnap’s gaze. Sapnap smiles, waving the napkin in an I got it! gesture. George doesn’t smile back, just looks down at the register, then up at the customer that walks in a second later.

That’s fine. Sapnap shoves the napkin into his pocket. This is progress.

 When he’s about to leave, hand pressed against the glass door, he turns. George is looking down, but Sapnap can see the tips of his ears, the slope of his nose. Pink. Bright, pretty pink.

He smiles. Definitely progress.

;;

“So you want me to flirt with you, then?” Sapnap asks, leaning his hip against the edge of the table George sits at, the barista looking at something on his phone.

“No, not really,” George replies, not looking up from the device.

Sapnap sits in the seat across from him. “But I can flirt with you now, right?” he asks. “Since you’re not technically working right now?”

“I’m being paid for this,” George says. “It’s ten minutes. Money is going into my bank account, right now.” He finally looks up at the other, eyes wide in emphasis. “That means I’m working.”

“Boo,” Sapnap immediately snaps. “You just don’t want to admit that you want me.”

George makes a face.

“Want me flirting with you,” Sapnap clarifies, though he wouldn’t mind George wanting him. (He even hopes for that, honestly.) “You want me to flirt with you.”

“Quit making assumptions, you weirdo.”

Sapnap laughs. “You sound like my friend.”

“Oh, really?” George asks. “Maybe we’d get along then.”

“Me and you?” 

George gives him a dry look. “No, you idiot, me and your friend.”

“Well, you’re not going to meet him,” Sapnap replies.

“What, is he better looking than you?” George asks. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Hey!” Sapnap cries indignantly. “What does that mean?” George merely raises a brow. “And no , he’s not. I just… he doesn’t like coffee.”

“And that means he can’t come inside?” George asks.

“He gets, like, really nauseous if he smells it,” Sapnap explains “After I come here, I usually end up meeting him at, like, the library or something.”

“Oh, are you guys students?” At this, George sits up, leaning forward slightly over the table. Sapnap wonders if he’d be allowed to copy the other’s posture, or if it’d make George lean away. He decides not to risk it.

“I am,” he says. “My friend isn’t.”

“H’m,” George says.

“Yeah,” Sapnap replies. “H’m.”

He smiles at the smile that spreads on George’s lips, even as the other looks away, tucking his chin into his collar in an attempt to hide it further. “Stop it,” George says, muffled as he speaks into fabric. “Stop that.”

“I’m just looking at you,” Sapnap replies.

George glances at him from the corner of his eye. “I know,” he says. “Stop it.”

Though he doesn’t want to, he does. “So are you a student too?” he asks.

“Alum,” he replies. “Graduated last year.”

“Ooh,” Sapnap says. “Teach me all that you know.”

“You don’t even know what I majored in,” George replies. “What if we took, like, completely different classes?”

“Unimportant,” Sapnap says. “I was just trying to find an excuse to spend more time with you.”

“I—,” George is cut off by a persistent beeping. The two look down at the phone on the table. “Oh,” George turns off the timer. “Back to work.”

“I thought you said you’re still technically working?” Sapnap asks, knowing the grin he’s wearing is infuriating.

George’s eyes narrow as he looks at Sapnap before he shakes his head. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re the one who talked to me for ten minutes,” Sapnap replies easily.

George doesn’t reply, instead just shaking his head once more, heading back to the counter, where he grabs his apron and goes to tie it around his (oh God, small) waist. Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut, thinking, before he gets up from his chair. The place is relatively empty for ten in the morning. “It’s compsci,” he says as George finally comes to stand at the register. “I’m a compsci major.” George looks up at him from across the room, startled. “In case you were, you know, actually wondering.” He can feel his confidence drain out of him the longer the other continues to stare blankly at him. “Um, yeah.” He lifts a hand to wave goodbye, and he’s about to walk out when George replies:

“Wait, Sapnap,” he turns around to see George watching him, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, “if you actually do want help ever, uh, I can do that. For you.”

Sapnap wants to reply, wants to say thank you or maybe even you, me, library tomorrow at six?, but instead he stays silent, and the moment passes, George inserting something into the computer, Sapnap clearly dismissed.

;;

“I fucked up,” he says immediately to Dream, sinking into his seat at the small diner on the corner of Mulberry and 11th, convenient for its equidistance from his dorm and Dream’s apartment.

“You really could’ve gotten a date, and instead you just stood there,” Dream says, a vague echo of Sapnap’s retelling.

“You’re making fun of me right now,” Sapnap whines.

“No,” Dream says. Sapnap looks up at him from between his fingers. The corner of Dream’s mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

Sapnap groans, pushing his face further into his hands.

“No, no, it’s not that bad,” Dream tries. “Come on, man, no moping at Sally’s. You’re literally eating cheesecake pancakes right now. You can’t mope.”

“I’m not moping,” Sapnap immediately replies. “I’m mourning.” He pulls his hands away from his face, instead pressing the tips of his fingers to his temples. “Mourning the relationship that never was.”

“Is this what you’re like when you actually have to work for a relationship?” Dream asks. He steals a strawberry off of Sapnap’s plate. “I don’t know if I like this dude.”

“George?” Sapnap asks.

“No,” Dream says, stealing another strawberry, “you.”

“Considering you’re still here, I think you like him well enough.” Sapnap lifts a brow as Dream goes to sneak another strawberry, blocking the other’s fork with his own. Metal clinks against metal.  Dream accepts defeat, going back to his waffles.

“We all have our ups and downs,” Dream finally declares. “That was a bad day—”

“But it was going so well!”

“Okay, then things got thrown off with the alarm—”

“Timer.”

“—going off,” Dream eats another bite of waffles, “so basically: don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it,” Sapnap says, just to be contradictory.

Dream knows what he’s doing, so instead of replying, he just finishes off the first of his waffles. Sapnap glares down at his own meal before spearing a piece of pancake.

“I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” Dream says.

Shit.

;;

He resigns himself to waiting until Monday to see George again, only to find himself stopping short when walking to his dorm from the library, spotting a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches that line the commons.

“George?” he calls, before he can decide if interacting outside of the four walls of the Starbucks they’re so used to is a good idea.

George looks up, slipping his phone in his pocket, eyes obviously wide even when hidden behind a pair of—

“Are those clout goggles?” Sapnap asks, biting back a laugh.

George crosses his arms, stretching his legs out (though they don’t reach particularly far, Sapnap affectionately notes) and leaning back on the bench. “Maybe,” he replies.

Sapnap stops holding back his laughter, letting it spill out freely as George’s face goes through a range of expressions, from a frown to a smile to a grimace to something of a cross between all three.

“If you’re done,” he says when Sapnap’s laughter has turned more into sporadic giggles.

“I’m sorry,” Sapnap immediately replies, though it’s clear the words mean nothing. He’s certain if he could see George’s eyes clearly through his lenses, the other would be rolling them. “It’s cute,” he almost says, but something stops him, the words turning into, “It’s fine. They suit you.”

One of George’s hands comes up to adjust the glasses, the twist of his lips finally turning into a smile. “Really?” he asks, hand pulling away from the frames to instead rest his fingers lightly against the plastic, but Sapnap isn’t paying attention to the glasses at all, eyes instead locked on the delicate bones of George’s wrist.

“Yeah,” he says anyway. George’s hand falls back to his lap. “So,” Sapnap says, now that the immediate distraction is gone, coming back into himself, “what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you were wanting to see my face again.”

“Um.” George looks away, at a tree that Sapnap knows is behind him, at the ground, the railing of the bench, at an acorn that lay a few feet away. Sapnap tries not to let the hope grow in him, even though the silence only continues to stretch on.

The hope finally breaks loose, and he asks it: “Did you really come here just to see me?”

“Not… entirely,” George replies. Sapnap gives him a disbelieving look, and George is quick to defend himself. “No, really!” he says. “I live in the area, and this… it’s nice, isn’t it?” He motions to the commons. “It’s, like, cool outside now, and the sun isn’t, like, really hot or anything. It’s nice.”

“But you said ‘not entirely,’” Sapnap says, “so that means I was part of the reason?”

“I didn’t expect to see you,” George sighs. “But if—if—I did see you, I wouldn’t be opposed to, like, hanging out or, um, something.”

“Okay,” Sapnap says easily, taking a seat on the bench next to him. Now that he’s beside George, he can see his eyes better underneath his glasses, and he doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares. “So what do you want to do?”

George gives a noncommittal shrug. 

Sapnap sighs. They sit in a tense silence, Sapnap itching to say something, George… Sapnap isn’t sure what he’s thinking. Although they’re sitting side by side, sometimes their shoes would brush against each other, edge of sole against edge of sole, and George would jump like he’s been shocked, bringing Sapnap’s eyes back to him every time. Finally, Sapnap gives another sigh and says, “I spy… with my little eye… something… blue.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees George tense. And then.

“The sky?”

“Nope!” Sapnap answers, popping the ‘p’. “Try again.”

George hums quietly, head moving the tiniest bit as he surveys the area. “There,” he says, pointing, “those flowers.”

“Got it,” Sapnap smiles, “your turn.”

George looks around, a single finger tapping on his jean-clad thigh. Sapnap refuses to follow the movement. “I spy,” George begins, “with my little eye something that starts with P.”

Sapnap looks around, searching for whatever George could have chosen. Then a bark rings through the air, and his head snaps around to look at the dog darting across the commons to get to a girl kneeled in the grass. “That puppy,” Sapnap replies, smug.

“Yup.” George nods, glancing over at Sapnap as he picks out something.

“I spy with my little eye,” he starts, angling himself more towards George, “something green.”

George falters. “Grass?” he tries, a slight smile on his face.

Sapnap laughs. “No,” and then out of a rush of courage he’s not sure from where, he reaches up to pluck the leaf out of George’s hair, holding it up between the two of them.

George scoffs. “That’s not even fair. I can’t see that. And was that in my hair this entire time?”

Sapnap shakes his head, flicking it away from them, the leaf dancing idly in the air before twirling to the ground. “Nah. It must have happened sometime last round.”

“Ah.” George finally takes off his sunglasses, pushing them up onto the top of his head. “Well, still not fair. I can’t even see green.”

“What?” Sapnap doesn’t mean for it to come out as a laugh, but it does. “What do you mean you can’t see green?”

“I’m colorblind, asshole,” George doesn’t shove him, but his hand does lift and make a weak motion towards him. “When you started with a color, I figured this wouldn’t last long.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” Sapnap asks, hand coming down on the bench next to him so he can lean towards George.

“You said blue; it was fine,” George replies. “Besides,” he gives a shrug, “I just said the letter the word starts with. If I did it every time, maybe you would too.”

“Weird,” Sapnap says, the word coming out on a whistle.

“Not as weird as you,” George easily fires back.

Sapnap rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, settling back on the bench once more. They sit in a companionable silence for another second before he remembers.

“Hey, uh,” George looks over at him, and wow, have his eyes always been that deep, wide and round and shining like honey in the bright sun, “my friend and I, the one that doesn’t like coffee, we’re meeting up for dinner. Would you… maybe want to come? Just so you can meet him. You know. We hang out a lot. And stuff.”

George seems to consider it before he nods. “If your friend is fine with it, why not?”

Sapnap sends Dream a quick text to ask, though he knows the other will say yes. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” he asks, even though he and Dream were just going to meet at, like, a McDonald’s.

“Not that I know of,” George replies.

“Awesome,” Sapnap says.

“Yup,” George agrees.

And… it’s awkward again.

“Got any other plans?” he asks, just to break the silence.

“Not really,” George says. “Fridays are usually pretty uneventful.”

“No one asking you to any parties?”

At that, George gives a quiet laugh. “Not really a partying type of person.”

“Really?” Sapnap asks, eyes wide. “I never would’ve guessed.”

George looks over at him, brows high, before he realizes it was sarcasm, making him roll his eyes. “Oh my God, you’re so annoying.”

“I’m not the one who agreed to spend more time with me.” 

George doesn’t reply, but when Sapnap glances at him, he’s got a small smile on his lips, cheeks pink and not, Sapnap is pretty sure, because of the sun.

;;

Sapnap thinks he should be jealous. He’s, like, really sure he’s supposed to be jealous.

Dream and George meet and hit it off immediately, falling into an easy banter that Sapnap watches like a tennis match, a constant smile on George’s face, laughter spilling out past his lips like a waterfall. 

They get along like a house on fire or whatever the phrase is, and Sapnap is left to breathe in the smoke. Yet he’s not choking and he’s not jealous.

Because every time George says something that sends Dream into a fit of laughter, he’ll glance over at Sapnap, eyes bright and smile wide, as if to check that he has Sapnap’s attention too, that he has Sapnap laughing right along with them.

Sapnap wonders if Dream notices, if he catches these moments between them, but if he does, he never comments on it, instead continuing to talk to George like they’ve known each other for thirty years and not thirty minutes.

By the time they finish their food, George and Dream have exchanged numbers and are planning another time to hang out.

“It sucks about the coffee thing,” George says to Dream, head tilted back so they can make eye contact. It’s endearing, but Sapnap does feel a slight pain in his chest when he realizes their one inch difference in height means he doesn’t get the same experience. 

“Yeah,” Dream agrees, “honestly it’s just, like, really inconvenient because I don’t like coffee in the first place, but you’re telling me I can’t even be near it?” George gives a sympathetic smile, and Dream backtracks. “If you ever want, I’m sure I can stomach it for, like, a minute or two, but—”

“It’s fine,” George cuts him off. “I can meet you wherever you want. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Dream asks, looking apologetic.

“It’s fine,” George repeats. “So next Tuesday? When I get off work?”

“Yeah,” Dream confirms. “I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“Same here.” George gives him a smile. “It’ll be fun kicking your ass.”

“Oh, right, like you’re going to win,” Dream scoffs. “Right.”

“You’ll see,” George crosses his arms, “just wait.”

“Whatever.” Dream gives a laugh before shouldering his backpack. “Alright,” he says to both George and Sapnap this time. “I’m going to head out. Patches is probably wondering why she hasn’t been fed yet.”

George laughs as Sapnap lifts his hand in an easy wave.

Dream waves back then heads out, leaving George and Sapnap alone.

George turns to Sapnap.

“So,” Sapnap says, “what’d you think?”

“He’s nice,” George replies, and then, “thanks for, uh, inviting me.”

“Of course, dude,” Sapnap says because what else do you call the guy you like, other than dude? He blinks. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.”

George gives a hesitant smile. “Maybe.”

“You’re not, like, intruding on anything,” Sapnap immediately goes to reassure. “We do this, like, all the time. It’s really not a big deal.”

“I didn’t think I was.” George collects his trash, “but thanks for putting the idea in my head.”

“No. You don’t get to do that.” Sapnap follows his lead as they throw out the wrappers from the burgers. “Anyway,” he opens the door for George, who ducks his head in silent thanks, before following after him, “what about me?”

“What about you?” George asks.

“Your number,” Sapnap answers, “I want it.”

“You think I give it out just like that?” George’s brows are raised in disbelief as Sapnap scoffs.

“You did it for Dream, and he didn’t even ask!”

“Okay, and?”

“You’re so mean to me, George,” Sapnap whines, crossing his arms. “See if I ever talk to you again.”

“Oh because that’s just the worst possible outcome for me,” George laughs.

“What the hell?” Sapnap uncrosses his arms to instead fling them out at his sides. “I thought we had fun today! We played I spy!”

“Yes,” George says, “because that is the exact definition of fun.”

“Well,” Sapnap crosses his arms again, “ I had fun. Sorry that you didn’t.”

In his performance, he had closed his eyes, but when he opens them again, his heart is quick to skip a beat upon seeing the soft smile on George’s face as he looks at him. His eyes are no longer turned to gold by the sun, but instead are dark like the coffee he serves, and Sapnap only finds himself looking away from them to instead drop his gaze to the other’s lips. They’re a soft pink, and they’re full, and Sapnap finds himself wondering what they’d feel like on his own.

“It’s,” and then a slew of numbers that Sapnap doesn’t catch. He finally meets George’s eyes again.

“What was it?” he asks, pulling out his phone. George rolls his eyes, giving a quiet laugh, before repeating his numbers as Sapnap rushes to add him to his contacts. When he’s done, he sends a quick text to George (Hiiii :D) to which George doesn’t answer but does make a show of blocking the number (then immediately unblocking it).

“Anyway,” Sapnap shoves his hands in his pockets, Dream’s advice be damned, and gives a slight whistle, “walk you home?”

George shifts his weight, readjusting his jacket, before nodding. “Alright.”

Sapnap smiles. George starts walking.

;;

George’s apartment is nice. Not too far from the Starbucks he works at (not too far from Sapnap’s dorm) and it’s in a quieter part of the city. The two of them stand in silence on the front step.

“So,” George says.

“So,” Sapnap agrees.

A second. Two seconds.

George makes a small noise that has Sapnap ready to ask if he’s alright when George’s hand suddenly smacks against his cheek. Sapnap immediately reaches up to cradle the reddening skin. “Did you just slap me?” He thinks the slight crack in his voice is warranted.

George’s eyes are wide as he shakes his head. “No. Oh my God. I wasn’t… it was a,” and then he makes a motion, like he’s pressing a kiss to his fingers, then lifting them as if he were to press that kiss to—

“You couldn’t have just kissed me like a normal person?” Sapnap is trying not to sound accusatory or angry because he’s not, but what the hell.

“It’s—I didn’t—look, fuck, I’m sorry.” George wraps his fingers around Sapnap’s arm to tug his hand away from his cheek. “Here, look, shit, I—,” and then he’s got his lips on Sapnap’s cheek and any pain Sapnap’s feeling is gone. George’s lips are warm against his skin, and when he pulls away, his eyes are still shut, fluttering open only once he’s back within his own space. Sapnap stares at him with wide eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal,” George says.

“It was kind of cute,” Sapnap tries, heart pounding in his chest. “But only kind of.”

“Whatever,” George says, “I’ll see you Monday, Sapnap.”

“Will you kiss me then too?” Sapnap asks.

George shakes his head, shoving past Sapnap to get to his front door, pulling out his key and unlocking it. “Goodnight, Sapnap,” he says.

“Goodnight, George,” Sapnap replies.

George turns around, looking at him from right inside the door. Sapnap stares back. George opens his mouth, as if he plans to say something, but only ends up closing it again, shaking his head and turning to go further inside, shutting the door behind him.

Sapnap stands there on the front step for another second before shaking his head, the ghost of a response to whatever George left unsaid, deciding to take the long way home.

;;

Monday comes quickly, and after class Sapnap finds himself making his way to Starbucks, just in time for George’s lunch break. He wonders if thirty minutes is enough for him to take George somewhere, nothing fancy, just something quick, but then he’s inside and George is sitting at a table on the far wall, lunchbox open in front of him.

“Boo,” Sapnap says, sliding into the seat across from him, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get lunch with me.”

“I’m good, thanks,” George says.

“I can see that.”

He watches as George peels away layers of cling wrap around his sandwich.

“So how was class?” George asks, right before he takes a bite.

“Ugh,” Sapnap crosses his arms and rests his head atop them, closing his eyes, “I don’t know why I do it sometimes.”

“What, go to school?” Based on what he hears, Sapnap assumes George has peeled away more cling wrap.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Deep down you enjoy it,” George says, “and it’s for your future.”

“You went to school,” Sapnap starts, “and now you work at Starbucks.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what you said on Friday.”

“I didn’t say anything Friday,” George says.

“You’re right,” Sapnap sits back up, “you didn’t say anything because you were too busy kissing me.”

“Yeah because a kiss on the cheek totally equals making out on the couch,” George snorts as he takes another bite of his sandwich. “Right.”

Sapnap grins. “Duh.” When George just rolls his eyes and opens a bag of chips, Sapnap is quick to steal one. “Anyway, we have a quiz Friday that I am not looking forward to.”

“I don’t think anyone looks forward to quizzes,” George slaps his hand away when it swoops in for another chip, “are you ready for it?”

“Define ‘ready,’” Sapnap replies. At George’s unimpressed look, Sapnap shrugs. “I mean, as ready as I can be.”

“That’s better than ‘not at all,’” George sighs. “Tell me how it goes?”

“Obviously.” Sapnap smiles when George allows him another chip. “So what about you? How’s your morning gone?”

“It’s gone,” George says. And then he pauses. “I got a girl’s number.”

“Oh,” Sapnap says, because that’s all he can think to say.

“She, like, wrote it on the receipt, I guess when Sarah was talking to me, and when she left, she just… left it on the counter.” Sarah, as it turns out, is the woman who told Sapnap she’s not allowed to disclose George’s break times. Sapnap still feels prickles of irritation under his skin as George continues: “I threw it out.”

The prickles suddenly stop.

“You threw it out?”

George nods, nonchalant, popping another chip in his mouth and even offering the rest in the bag to Sapnap with a raised brow. Sapnap just shakes his head, ears still ringing from George’s words.

“Why?” he asks.

“Not interested,” George says, finishing off his chips. “Besides,” he says, getting up to toss the bag in the trash, “no flirting while I’m at work.” Sapnap hands him the cling wrap sitting on the table. George smiles as he grabs his lunchbox. “See you later, Sapnap.”

“What if I wanted to order something?” Sapnap calls as George gets himself situated behind the counter.

“You drink too much sugar,” George replies, putting on his customer service face as a middle-aged man walks in. “Welcome to Starbucks, would you…,” Sapnap lets the rest of the greeting fade into background noise as he watches George’s mouth move, his fingers dancing across the computer as the man places his order. After another second, he gives a stretch, then rises, giving George a smile and a wave as he heads out the door.

He comes back that afternoon only to be greeted by George’s furrowed brows and a cold drink shoved into his hands. “On the house,” George tells him as Sapnap stares down at the vanilla frap, the condensation that had gathered on the cup wetting his hands.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” George replies, pushing through the glass doors and holding one open for Sapnap. “So where to?”

Sapnap thinks. He hadn’t really thought of anything for them to do, mostly just wanting to see George again. Then he remembers neon lights and crummy carpet with space patterns on it, rockets and stars and moons. With the next step he takes, he moves the tiniest fraction closer to George. The backs of their hands brush together. Sapnap lets this happen a couple more times, and then—he takes George’s hand.

George just holds on tight.

Sapnap smiles. “I have somewhere.”

;;

They hold hands the entire way, and Sapnap tries not to let it get to him. George’s fingers are thinner than his, and not long after he had started to lead them in the direction of the arcade did George’s fingers slot their way between his. His palm is warm, pressed flat against Sapnap’s own, and every once in awhile Sapnap will say something that makes George laugh and his hand will come up as if to cover his mouth, the action aborted halfway to its destination when Sapnap’s arm goes taut, George letting their hands fall back between them. He still looks over at Sapnap though, eyes glittering, squinted, cheeks rosy.

It’s maybe the most beautiful thing Sapnap has ever seen.

;;

Correction. George smiling (still, because George always looks nice smiling) colored by the neon lights is the most beautiful thing Sapnap has ever seen. He’s almost tempted to take a picture of just George, just for him to have, him to cherish, but he knows George will hate it, George will watch him like a hawk over his shoulder as he deletes it, not letting up until he deletes it, and the effort isn’t worth it. Seeing George so displeased isn’t worth it.

So instead he crowds into George’s space, demanding a selfie, “to send to Dream! To make him jealous!”

Like that’s anywhere close to the truth. But he does send the selfie to Dream, who does reply with a >:(, and Sapnap laughs and shows George, who laughs then wanders over to the skee ball, and then that’s when Sapnap goes and changes the picture to his homescreen (because a lockscreen is too risky, because he knows George will definitely see it).

He lets George win at skee ball. And air hockey. And… this game isn’t even competitive, what the hell, but he lets George win at that too. (And okay, maybe sometimes George wins because he’s better, but it’s not like Sapnap would ever admit to that.)

When they leave, George is still giggly, fingers intertwined with Sapnap’s once again, but less passive, more with a purpose, more I’m holding your hand because I really want to hold your hand, because I like how your fingers feel between mine, because I like the way our skin touches, you’re here and so am I. It’s so deliberate, and Sapnap is dizzy from it.

They get dinner at a seedy, shitty pizza place, though the pizza is anything but, and then it’s back to Sapnap walking George home.

“You really don’t have to,” George says. “Your dorm is, like, right there,” he makes a general motion to the upcoming intersection.

“But I want to,” Sapnap says.

George sighs, but doesn’t say anything, even as they walk past the entrance of the university.

When they reach his apartment, Sapnap fakes nonchalance. “So,” he says, “are you going to make it a big deal?”

George crosses his arms.

Sapnap puts up his hands in front of him. “Just a question.” He smiles. “So are you?”

“You’re so annoying,” and then warm lips are on his cheek as fingers tangle into his shirt. “I hate you,” George says when he leans back. Sapnap looks down at where George still has a grip on his shirt, but when he meets George’s eyes again, the other doesn’t let go. Sapnap wants to take his face in his hands and press a kiss to his lips right then and there.

George’s gaze dropping down—to his lips, there’s no doubt about it, George is looking at his lips—is almost enough to make him do so.

But that would scare George away. He knows it would. So he leans back on his heels, smile on his lips. “Hate you too.” The soft lilt of his voice belies his words. He doesn’t mind. 

George’s eyes flit back up to Sapnap’s. Sapnap’s smile widens. George drops his hand from Sapnap’s shirt. “Thank you for today,” George finally says. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” Sapnap reaches out, taking George’s hand in his own, finding that he quite missed the other’s touch, even if it’d only been a few seconds. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” George agrees, “we will.”

They stand there in silence, Sapnap holding George’s hand. George clears his throat.

“Well,” he says, “goodnight, Sapnap.”

Sapnap gives the other’s hand a squeeze. “Goodnight, George.” He drops George’s hand, their fingers dragging together until they’re not.

When their fingers finally part, George takes a breath then turns to unlock his door and head inside. Right before he shuts the door, Sapnap is treated to the sight of an eye turned liquid gold from the streetlights, a rich, amber color that leaves Sapnap tasting coffee and honey. “Goodnight, George,” he says one last time, and then, the door shuts and it’s just Sapnap out in the cold. He gives a smile to the closed door, then turns and starts the walk to his dorm.

;;

Sapnap ends up with what feels like fifty new assignments on Tuesday, and he knows Dream and George are meeting up after George’s shift ends, so he decides to forgo his usual trip to Starbucks and instead heads back to his dorm after shooting George a quick Have fun with dream :) text. 

When he reaches his room, his phone chimes in his pocket.

thanks, i’m gonna kick his ass

Sapnap huffs out a laugh before unlocking the door and heading inside, dropping his backpack onto the floor next to his desk then collapsing into his chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes before replying to the text.

Of course u will <3

Immediately, he gets a text back, and he thinks more about that than what the text actually says (gross, don’t ever send me a <3 ever again).

Just to be antagonistic, Sapnap grins and sends: Good luck baby xoxo mwah mwah mwah <3

Another instant reply: you’re so disgusting. talk to you later sapnap

Sapnap’s grin stays as he sets his phone down and pulls out the assignment he’s decided to tackle first. Sure, George may be annoyed by every text he sends, but he’s still replying right away, still replying at all—he totally doesn’t mean it. George totally loves texting him, he’s sure of it. Sapnap gets out his laptop and goes to Blackboard as he thinks about George on Monday, the way he’d sometimes lean into Sapnap, the clean scent of his laundry detergent settling into Sapnap’s heart and the occasional press of his cheek against Sapnap’s leaving a permanent warmth under his skin.

He goes through his assignments in a daze, Java getting mixed with java and graphs getting interrupted by George. Only the sound of his phone going off—a call from Dream—breaks him out of it, little numbers and letters dancing behind his eyes as he blinks and answers the phone.

“Yeah?”

“George and I are getting something to eat, do you want us to bring anything to your dorm?”

“You don’t have to,” Sapnap replies, even as his stomach rumbles and roars at him to eat.

“You’re right,” Dream agrees, “but I’m not doing this for myself.”

Sapnap blinks. “George,” he says, and Dream gives a quiet hum. “Where’re you guys getting food from?”

“Taco Bell, maybe,” Dream replies. “There’s one on the way to your dorm.”

“Across the street, yeah,” Sapnap agrees. “Then can I get a Cheesy Gordita Crunch with two soft chicken tacos, a steak quesadilla, cinnamon twists, and a Baja Blast?”

Dream repeats it back to him with an, “alright,” at the end, and Sapnap tells him he’ll pay him back when they get to his dorm. “Sounds good,” Dream replies. “See you in a bit.”

“See you,” Sapnap agrees, then the call disconnects, and Sapnap is left in a messy as hell room with George on his way. “Shit,” Sapnap says, looking at the weeks-old laundry spilling out of his wardrobe and the assortment of half-drunk Gatorades and water bottles littering the shelf above his desk. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He grabs his trash can from where it sits at the foot of the bed, lifting it to the edge of the shelf and just pushing all the bottles into it, some of them falling past the edge and hitting the floor. He groans as he bends over to grab them and put them into the trash properly. When that’s done, he knows he’s not going to be able to run a full two and some loads of laundry before Dream and George get to his dorm, so he deems the laundry a lost cause and shoves it as best he can back into the wardrobe, his hamper buried under weeks of unwashed clothes. Oh well. At least his room doesn’t smell.

Sapnap freezes. Does it?

He shakes his head. No. It doesn’t. It’s fine. Besides, his room isn’t that bad. And George is a guy; he probably lived in the dorms, he knows the horrors of a bunch of dudes crowded in one building. It’s fine.

A knock on the door makes him look up from where he’d been staring a hole into his bedsheets, wondering if remaking his bed (he had put it together haphazardly that morning, more for a sense of productivity than any need for cleanliness, the sheets wrinkled and pillows slouched awkwardly) would be worth it. He supposes the interruption is answer enough. Leaving the bed as is, he unlocks the door, swinging it open to see George standing there holding three paper bags, two drinks under his left arm.

“Hi,” Sapnap says.

“Hi,” George replies, angling himself to allow Sapnap to take a bag from him. “These drinks are really cold.”

“Here,” Sapnap grabs the green one, immediately lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. “Almost as refreshing as seeing you.”

George stares at him before making his way into Sapnap’s room, setting the two bags down then taking out a napkin and setting his drink on it. “You’re not funny.”

“You’re right,” Sapnap agrees, making George’s eyes widen as he looks over at him. “I’m hilarious.”

George’s parted lips fall into an unamused line. He scoffs, turning back to the bags and pulling out various Taco Bell items. “Here,” he says, handing Sapnap his quesadilla and cinnamon twists, “they threw some of our things in the same bag. Everything in the one you’re holding is yours, though.”

“Nice.” Sapnap sets down the bag to take the food, immediately getting started on his quesadilla.

“And Dream was going to come, but then he got a call from someone and said he had to go. He might’ve taken the hot sauce…?” He looks over at Sapnap with a raised brow, who glances into his bag.

“Nah. There’s sauce in here.”

“Cool,” George replies. “But yeah, it’s… it’s just us now, I guess.”

Sapnap glances over at him. George is staring down into his bag, fingers crumpling the paper. When George turns to look at him, Sapnap doesn’t turn away. George holds his gaze for a second before his ears turn a warm pink, and he ducks his head, reaching into his bag to pull out a Quesarito. 

“Uh,” Sapnap says, and then reaches across George to grab his wallet from the desk and pull out a ten. “For the food.” He holds it out to George.

George takes it, their fingers brushing and Sapnap’s pulse sent racing. 

“Thanks,” George says, “but Dream paid.”

Sapnap plucks the cash from George’s fingers. “Never mind then.”

George laughs, “rude,” before unwrapping his Quesarito and taking a bite. “So how are your classes going?”

Sapnap groans making a motion to the stack of assignments half-covered by an empty Taco Bell bag. “Terribly. I’m doing… fine. It’s just… so much work.”

“The worst,” George agrees, taking another bite. “Studying for the quiz?”

“What are you, my dad?” Sapnap asks, but at an unimpressed look from George, he sighs and leans back against his bed. “Yes.”

“Good,” George says, and then he says, “I kicked Dream’s ass by the way.”

“Like I said you would,” Sapnap replies, and when George looks at him from under dark lashes, he thinks about how easy it would be to lean forward and press a kiss to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose, Sapnap hesitates for the shortest second before his gaze drops lower—it’d be so easy to lean forward and press a kiss to George’s lips. When he meets George’s eyes again, they’re dark, and in the faint light, Sapnap can see his pupils blown wide. He swallows. George watches the movement.

Sapnap takes a breath. “I—”

And then George is on him, their mouths pressed hot against each other. Sapnap moves back, resting on the bed, as he tilts his head, angles it so that he can kiss George properly. It’s once he does this, once he brings a hand up to hold the back of George’s head, that George pulls away with a small breath. “This was a—”

“If you say ‘bad idea,’ you owe me ten bucks,” Sapnap says before he can finish.

George, flushed, glances up at him and huffs a small laugh. “Lapse in better judgement, then.”

“No take-backs,” Sapnap says, his left hand, which had settled on the curve of George’s hip, sliding up to hold the nape of George’s neck. “Okay?”

George lets out a breath. Sapnap feels it warm against his lips, a phantom of their kiss. “Okay.”

Sapnap smiles. “Good. So what’s wrong?” He wouldn’t normally talk it out, the other party throwing out their worries and Sapnap immediately going back in for the kill, lips on theirs and them preferably in the bed by now, but it’s okay if it’s George—if this takes longer than it normally would, that’s okay, and—George gives him a hesitant smile back—if the end result is more than a tumble in the sheets, that’s even better. (Not that that was ever the desired result, but for a time, Sapnap could’ve been content with just that. Not anymore, though. Not now.)

“I’ve never dated anyone,” George admits, “not seriously.”

“Like, you’re some type of player or…?” Sapnap lifts a brow as George sends him a look. He drops his hand to pull himself back and up onto his bed then pats the space next to him in a silent offering to George. George looks from his hand to his face then back a couple times before sighing and climbing onto the bed next to him. When George places his hands down at his side, his and Sapnap’s pinkies brush together. George takes another breath.

“I mean, I dated a girl in high school, if you could call it that,” George says. “More like I knew she had a crush on me and was doing what I was supposed to.” He makes a face and Sapnap wonders if it would be bad of him to curl their pinkies together, to take even more than that. Good or bad, he leaves his hands as they are, letting George continue. “It didn’t mean anything, and it was a high school relationship. Those are hardly legitimate.” He gives a slight eye roll. “So yeah, this is… kind of new to me.”

“That’s okay,” Sapnap says immediately. “I’ve never had a real relationship either.” 

It’s not the consolation Sapnap had planned for it to be. Sapnap wouldn’t say he sleeps around, or slept around, he’s not some kind of manwhore or anything, but the fact still stands that he’s definitely had more than one partner and most of those relationships did reach at least third base before he even hit the ball. That, in contrast to George’s high school hand-holding, is definitely a strike against him.

Sapnap shakes his head, dissipating the baseball metaphors beginning to sprawl in his mind. “But it’s something I want with you,” he amends. “I really like you, George. Like… I really like you.” He’s not sure if the second thing is what does it for George, but either way, he still takes Sapnap’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and resting their connected hands in his lap. Sapnap leans over just enough to have their shoulders touching.

“You really do annoy me sometimes, you know?” George asks, thumb rubbing smooth circles into Sapnap’s skin. “It’s like you go out of your way to do it, too. You can’t just… dial it back a bit. It’s really all or nothing with you.”

“I’m not known for doing things in halves, yeah,” Sapnap agrees.

George glances at him from the corner of his eyes. “Except for relationships,” he says. His voice is rough.

The smile that had started to grow on Sapnap’s face drops. “Yeah. Except for those.”

“I really like you too,” George finally admits, “and if you’re willing to try,” he squeezes Sapnap’s hand then looks over and meets his eyes, “I am too.”

;;

The soft atmosphere had broken not long after that, Sapnap’s stomach rumbling and George bursting into lilted giggles, nerves and hesitance coloring his every move after that. But when Sapnap offered to walk him home, George agreed, and they held hands the entire way, and when they reached George’s door, George scrunched his face up then grabbed Sapnap by the front of his jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss.

“For someone who’s never been in an actual relationship,” Sapnap had said, “your kisses are pretty hot.”

“Thanks,” George had said and then slammed the door in Sapnap’s face.

Sapnap didn’t mind, though; nah, he grinned the entire way home.

;;

The rest of the week flies by in a vanilla frap-flavored, headache-filled haze. George is certain the headaches are from all the sugar Sapnap intakes, but Sapnap is certain it’s from all the homework his professors assign and studying George pushes him to do.

“It’s not as if you wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t in the picture,” George tells him as he wipes down the table next to Sapnap’s. Sapnap has a lab report open on his laptop, his notes spread all out on the table before him. Half of the keyboard is covered by the paper, rendered unusable. 

Sapnap doesn’t have a good argument for that, but he also wants to keep George nearby. He leans back in his chair. “I’d have a headache with no remedy,” he says.

“Remedy, huh?” George asks, standing straight and arching a brow.

“Seeing your face is the only medicine I need,” Sapnap says, and then he throws in a, “pretty boy,” just because he wants to see what it’ll make George do.

Apparently, it makes his expression fall off his face and heat rise in its place, cheeks and ears glowing a bright pink even as he stutters out irritated (and empty) phrases, eventually giving the table a final furious once-over then disappearing into the kitchen to get rid of the dirtied rag. So basically, the words did the opposite of what he wanted, but in the end, Sapnap finds himself unable to consider it anything other than a win, mind now running through other opportunities to pull out the pet names.

George appears only when he’s about to leave, sending him off with a kiss on the cheek that’s really more an accidental brushing of lips against skin, but it’s enough for Sapnap, and he leaves the other with a smile and a promise to tell him how the quiz goes at dinner.

;;

Come dinner, Sapnap is halfway through explaining how he’s pretty sure he failed the quiz when George sits up in his seat and asks, “Is this a date?”

Sapnap freezes, mouth open and mid-word. “Do you want it to be a date?”

George huffs. “This isn’t really the wining and dining I expected, but—”

“I’m nineteen,” Sapnap tells him.

George sighs. “It was just an expression,” he says. “And I was going to say it’s fine. Everything here leaves something to be desired, but it’s fine.”

“Everything?” Sapnap asks, eyes widening coyly as he looks at the other.

“Everything,” George confirms. “Especially my date.”

Sapnap exaggerates a sad face and George rolls his eyes, throwing a fry at him, but he’s got a smile on his face, so Sapnap drops the act and grins back. “You’re so cute,” he tells the other, and George immediately seems to grow smaller, shoulders curving inwards, face angled down, his smile facing the floor instead of Sapnap, who observes this all with a quiet gaze.

“Shut up,” George says, the words on the end of a laugh.

“It’s true,” Sapnap replies. “I love looking at you. Even when you look dumb.”

“Excuse you,” George immediately snaps, finally looking back at Sapnap, “I never look dumb.”

“Oh,” Sapnap says, “you’re right. I meant when you look stupid.”

“What the hell?” George guffaws. “You’re actually so annoying. Shut up.”

“So you want me to shut up when I compliment you, and you want me to shut up when I insult you—what’s the truth?”

George looks at him, unimpressed. “The only conclusion is that I like you best when you say nothing at all.”

Sapnap scoffs. “Rude.”

“And yet.” George lifts a brow.

Sapnap gives a quiet exhale. “And yet,” he agrees.

;;

Dream stretches his legs out in front of him while Sapnap twists himself around to lean against Dream, back pressed against shoulder.

“How’s it going with George?” Dream asks, flicking through the channels on the TV, Sapnap watching the short frames he gets while taking nothing in.

“I think we’re a thing,” Sapnap replies, settling even further into Dream when he finally decides on a channel. It’s an old comedy from the 80’s, one Sapnap thinks his dad might’ve shown him when he was younger. Vaguely, he recalls falling asleep halfway through. He’ll try not to do that this time.

He feels Dream shift as he looks down at the younger. Sapnap can sense his eyes on the top of his head. “You think?” Dream asks, the words coming out slowly, as if he’s tasting every letter.

“We kissed,” Sapnap explains, “and we both talked about how we feel, and we went on a date, and he’s kissed me again since that first one. On the lips,” he adds hastily, just so Dream understands the severity of the situation.

“But no one’s said ‘boyfriend’ yet,” Dream concludes.

“But no one’s said ‘boyfriend’ yet,” Sapnap confirms.

Dream hums as a fanfare starts up in the movie. Sapnap takes a handful of popcorn from the bag on the coffee table in front of them.

“I think we’re taking it slow,” Sapnap continues. “Neither of us are good at relationships.”

“What do you mean?” Dream turns slightly, and Sapnap slips down his arm some. “You’re not good at relationships?”

“You know how it was,” Sapnap answers, “is.”

“Is it really that bad?”

Sapnap shrugs, scooting back up against Dream as he does so. “I’d think so. Someone like George would think so.”

“Where does that leave me?” Dream asks.

Sapnap doesn’t answer, eyes back on the TV screen. Dream huffs, but doesn’t push for one either. 

“It’s fine,” he finally says. “Whatever works best for you guys.”

Sapnap nods, and they don’t talk about George or Sapnap and George or relationships for the rest of the movie.

;;

This is new. Sapnap’s heart pounds heavy in his chest as George sits perched on his lap, hands flying across Sapnap’s keyboard as he types a command into the chatbox. Dream’s voice crackles through his speakers: “George! What the hell?”

“Oops,” George says, glancing back to share a conspiratorial look with Sapnap, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yes, you did,” Dream argues, his character finding George’s—who's really just using Sapnap’s character, but it’s whatever—and George running, even as Dream hits him over and over, beginning to take hearts. “You’re such an idiot, oh my God.”

George leans back against Sapnap’s chest, letting Dream kill him. “Fine,” he sighs, “we can do it your way. Whatever.” Sapnap smiles at the way his accent colors his words. George sends him a curious glance; Sapnap noses at the edge of his hairline in answer. George makes a small noise before leaning forward to get back into the game. Sapnap shifts, adjusting George on his lap so he can have some circulation in his thighs again. It’s not that George is heavy, no, George is fairly light, but George is bony, and for all Sapnap likes him and would in fact like to slip his hand in the other’s back pocket as they walk together, that doesn’t change the reality of George having a bony ass and it pressing into Sapnap’s lap.

When he’s got him where he wants, Sapnap curves himself over George, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. George feels warm all over, and when Sapnap tilts his head to take in the other’s profile, he sees it as a soft pink. Though George can’t really afford a free hand when PvPing Dream, he still lifts a hand to shove Sapnap’s head away.

Sapnap huffs and hooks his chin over the other’s shoulder. And then he gets the most terrible (wonderful) idea and angles his head so his nose is pressed into George’s neck and he’s starting to run kisses across the skin there. George breathes out a titter and lifts his shoulder to try and push Sapnap away. Sapnap grins and starts to climb his lips up the slender column of George’s neck. George gives a full-on giggle at this. “Stop,” he says, hand coming up to shove at Sapnap again, the lapse giving Dream a chance to hit George with his axe. “Sapnap,” George says when his kisses turn a bit rougher.

“What are you guys—,” and then George gives another breathless laugh and Dream makes a disgusted noise. “Seriously?” he asks. “In the middle of my Minecraft PvP?”

“Sorry,” George gasps, shoving at Sapnap with an urgency now, brows knitting and lips losing their smile for a frown instead. Sapnap gives one final nip to George’s neck before relenting, letting George stand from his lap and glare down at him. It holds for another second before George turns back to the computer. “I’ll be back on in a bit, is that okay?”

Dream makes a noise of confirmation then ends the call. George turns back to Sapnap. 

“Too far?” Sapnap asks.

George scrutinizes him, eyes narrowed, before he sits back down on Sapnap’s lap, this time angled towards him. When Sapnap puts his hands on his hips, George makes a face. Sapnap drops his hands. “I know I kissed you first,” George finally says, not quite meeting Sapnap’s eyes. “So I should be okay with all this.” He finally manages to make eye contact, holding it as he speaks. “But I’m not.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“You can tell me when it’s too much,” Sapnap tells him, but at George’s look, he sucks in a breath. “You did.”

“I was—I didn’t seem like I meant it,” George says. “I know. And, um, I guess I didn’t. Not really, not at first, but—”

“I still should’ve.” Sapnap lifts a hand, looking from it to George’s eyes then back. George gives a nod, and Sapnap sets his hand on George’s side, fingers resting in the spaces between George’s ribs. He feels George’s chest expand and contract with every breath he takes.

“We could,” George ducks his head, “have a sign, or a word, or something, and if one of us does it, the other stops,” he meets Sapnap’s eyes again, “would that work?”

Sapnap’s brows raise, jaw dropping slightly. “George…,” he says, “did you just suggest we employ a safeword?” 

George splutters. “No? I mean—I guess, but not like that! Just… yes or no?”

“Butterscotch,” Sapnap says.

“What?” George makes a face.

“When it’s too much,” Sapnap explains, “just say you want butterscotch.”

“It sounds like a euphemism.” The word drips distasteful from George’s tongue.

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “But that’s what makes it good !” He slides his fingers from George’s side around to his back, watching George’s face all the while. When George doesn’t stop him—physically or with butterscotch—Sapnap brings his other arm around George, holding him. “People will think we’re going to fuck or something, but actually we’re doing the opposite!”

“That or they’ll think we’re sugar addicts,” George scoffs, making Sapnap laugh.

“One of those,” Sapnap agrees. “Is that really such a bad thing?”

George looks at him, disappointment clear on his features. Sapnap smiles. George’s facade breaks; he smiles back. “It’s dumb,” he says.

“You always look dumb,” Sapnap replies. “No one will think anything.”

George sighs. Sapnap feels the movement against his chest, beneath his fingertips. “Fine,” George finally concedes. “Butterscotch.”

Sapnap smiles back then leans forward till their noses touch and their breath intermingles as George inhales then says, “If there’s ever been a better time to say the opposite of butterscotch, it’d be now.” Sapnap kisses him. George’s eyes slip shut, hands coming up to tangle slender fingers into the ends of Sapnap’s hair, and returns the kiss.

Eventually, George calls Dream again and the two of them start up their game again, George back to his perch at the edge of Sapnap’s lap, and this time Sapnap doesn’t kiss him, but George lets him run his fingers up and down his sides, and Sapnap delights in the little shivers and shudders George does every time. George and Dream end the day on a tie, the last win one of Dream’s. George’s consolation is a kiss pressed to his temple, but then George says that’s not enough and decides Dream and Sapnap owe him dinner.

“Both of us?” Sapnap asks as Dream groans on the other line.

George nods.

“Why me?” Sapnap makes the best pleading face he can. 

George is made of stone. “Friend of the enemy.”

“Boo,” Sapnap says, “hiss.”

“Hey!” Dream’s voice crackles through the speaker. George glances over at it, unamused.

“I think we should try that one place, what was it called? It’s on Main and Delaware.”

Dream makes a noise. Sapnap thinks it might be one of fear. “If it’s the place I’m thinking… that’s really expensive.”

“But you can pay for it, can’t you, Dream?” George asks. “I know you can.”

Dream doesn’t reply. All three of them know he can.

“But I wouldn’t do that to you,” George continues. “Which is why Sapnap owes me dinner too.”

Sapnap is about to whine when his brain catches onto an idea and his eyes narrow. “Is this payback for the date?”

“H’m?” The tilt of George’s head is innocent in a way only the guise of innocence can be. Sapnap’s eyes squint even more, vision practically gone. “Of course not.”

Sapnap doesn’t believe him.

;;

Despite George’s teasing earlier that week, he ends up ordering the cheapest things on the menu, though Sapnap (feeling guilty about the date thing, oops) points out other, more expensive, things for George to try.

“Sapnap,” George finally says, “it’s fine. If it bothers you that much, we can split a dessert or something.” Across the table, they meet eyes and at the contact, a small smile appears on George’s face. Sapnap’s breath catches.

Dream is seated next to George, this date of course anything but traditional, but, like at the McDonald’s, Sapnap finds he doesn’t care, their closeness completely platonic—if anything, he’s comforted by it, in a sense, his two favorite people getting along as easy as they do. Sapnap’s utterly sold on it.

He and George catch eyes again as Dream peoplewatches casually, cheek resting on his palm. Sapnap’s own palm is open on the table in front of him, bored of messing with his unused cutlery. He smiles as George eyes the hand, eyes dark and inscrutable, before a hand covers his own. Sapnap curls his fingers around the other’s. They sit in this calm silence until their server brings them their food.

Sapnap’s tempted to keep George’s hand in his as he eats, but it’s his right hand and George’s left, so he lets go, turning to his food instead. George does the same, and Sapnap thinks that’s it, but then he feels a foot brush his, and when he glances up, it’s to see George already watching him, cheeks flushed. Sapnap hooks their ankles together. George’s gaze goes back to his plate.

When it comes time for dessert, George does agree on splitting with Sapnap, Dream getting his own thing, some chocolate mousse pie, and George and Sapnap getting a crème brûlée, George eager to tap the top with his spoon when the waiter brings it out to them, steaming and pretty.

Every once in awhile, their spoons clink against each other, and they exchange quick glances, Sapnap swears his aren’t heated, but the pounding in his heart suggests otherwise—he never knows with George, whether there’s something behind them or not, his eyes dark, endless, Sapnap wonders if he’ll ever be able to properly read him. If Dream is ever uncomfortable, he never gives any indication of it.

Dream and Sapnap do pay, and George looks green and guilty after, even when Dream did everything he could to keep George from seeing the check, leaning away and even cupping a hand over the receipt to prevent curious eyes from wandering.

The three of them walk out together, Sapnap’s pockets feeling considerably lighter, but the meal worth it, and when he reaches over, George lets him clasp their hands together easily, fingers intertwining like this happens everyday. Dream walks on his other side, hands in his pockets (Sapnap stops himself from making a smart remark), eyes on the sidewalk ahead of them. The sun has long since set, and a chill has started under Sapnap’s skin, shaken only by the solid warmth of George’s hand in his. Still, when a breeze ruffles their hair, Sapnap has to suppress a shiver. 

They reach George’s apartment first, and he goes with an easy goodbye to Dream and a short hug around Sapnap’s middle. When he pulls away, he turns his head and his lips brush Sapnap’s cheek in something like a kiss. Sapnap watches him up until the door finally shuts and they hear the click of the lock. 

They’ll reach his dorm before they reach Dream’s place. When Sapnap looks over, Dream is still staring straight ahead.

“I could’ve paid it all myself,” Dream says. “You knew that.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap agrees.

“You could’ve told me to pay it all myself.” Dream turns his head, eyes on Sapnap. His gaze is sharp. “George wouldn’t have minded.”

Sapnap looks to the ground. “Yeah.”

Dream goes back to looking ahead. They walk in silence for another minute. “He’s happy,” he finally says. Sapnap’s eyes dart to the other. Dream isn’t looking back. “He really likes you.”

“I really like him,” Sapnap says.

“Monday—the other week,” Dream gives a slight laugh, “George said he really liked that, too. He had a bad day—,” Sapnap remembers the drink shoved in his hands, the dark expression on George’s face, “—and then you were there, and you were happy and happy to see him, and suddenly the bad parts of the day didn’t really matter.”

“I just want to see him smile,” Sapnap says, and then he amends the statement, “I want to see him happy. If it’s because of me, that’s even better, but really, he just…,” he shrugs, makes a noise in his throat. “I care about him.”

“So do I,” Dream says. “And I care about you. And I can tell that you guys make each other happy. And that’s all you want for each other.” He glances over, showing the other a soft smile. “And that’s all I want for you both.”

“You haven’t even known George for that long,” Sapnap says, because he’s socially incompetent or something.

“George is easy to love,” Dream replies.

Sapnap doesn’t have anything to say to that. It’s true. He is.

;;

It’s another one of Sapnap and Dream’s biweekly movie nights, but this time George is there, head resting in Sapnap’s lap, feet in Dream’s. He fits perfectly along the couch, though he’s turned on his side, blanket tugged tight over him as he watches Jurassic Park. They settled on that after some brief bickering, mostly between George and Sapnap, Dream content to watch whatever, while George wanted a comedy and Sapnap didn’t know what he wanted but it wasn’t a comedy because, “Dream and I watched a comedy last time!”

“I wasn’t here last time!” George argues. “So it shouldn’t matter!”

“But it does ,” Sapnap does not whine, though they all know the pitch in his voice makes it close to one. “We should watch something else.”

In the end, it was Dream who decided, having closed his eyes then picked a movie off the shelf randomly. Once Dream was sat back down on the couch, George had huffed and flopped over onto his side to watch it, ignoring Sapnap’s cheering but not turning away from the hand the younger had placed atop his head, fingers running through the short strands.

Now, an hour and a half later, George makes a sleepy noise, nuzzling into Sapnap’s thigh, and Sapnap’s heart clenches in his chest.

Dream had dozed off a few minutes ago, chin in his palm, and now his elbow has started to slide off the arm of the couch. Sapnap bends over, running his nose along the curve of George’s ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hey,” he whispers. “Want to call it a night?”

George turns his head, nose bumping into Sapnap’s when Sapnap doesn’t sit up quick enough. Their eyes lock, dark blue on dark brown, and George stares up at him for a second before he glances to Dream at the other end of the couch, one hand curled around George’s ankles. “‘Kay,” George says, voice rough. Sapnap finally leans back the rest of the way, and George sits up, pointing his sock-clad toes and stretching out his right arm, the limb having been pressed to the couch beneath him. When he takes his feet from Dream’s lap, dropping them to the floor, Dream’s elbow finally slips from the couch, and he jerks awake, eyes blinking rapidly until they finally settle blearily on the TV.

Sapnap leans over to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “George and I are gonna head out,” he tells him. “We’re all pretty tired.”

Dream looks over at him, movements sluggish, before he nods. “See you guys tomorrow?”

“Probably,” Sapnap replies.

Dream nods again before making a small noise and pushing himself up from the couch. The movie still plays on the television, but none of them pay it any mind. Dream picks up their empty bowl of popcorn and takes it to the kitchen.

George sighs, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.

“Ready for the walk home?” He’s talking about their respective homes, Sapnap knows—George’s apartment and Sapnap’s dorm—but it feels so much like they’re a duo, a pair, home coming from George’s lips like they live together, that it makes Sapnap’s breath catch in his chest. Breathlessness and a clenching heart—maybe Sapnap should seek medical help.

At his lack of reply, George looks back at him. The blue light colors his skin something pretty. Maybe Sapnap’s just had an overdose of George. He doesn’t think he minds. “I’ll walk you home,” he says. And then he thinks about the placement of their houses. He backtracks. “Or… if you wanted, you could just stay at mine?”

George, growing steadily more alert as time goes on, stares at him. “You want me to go home with you,” he says. It is in no way a question.

“I mean, if you want,” Sapnap answers anyway.

“We might as well have spent the night here,” George tells him.

Sapnap glances back at Dream, only to find the other missing from the kitchen. A look at the dark hallway and the slim line of light coming from underneath the bathroom door lets him know where the other is, however. He turns back to George. “We can ask Dream,” he says. “Do you want to?”

George gives a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe your place would be better. We don’t know what he’s doing tomorrow.”

“We don’t,” Sapnap agrees, although they’re both aware Dream doesn’t have any plans.

“And we don’t want to overstay our welcome,” George continues.

“We don’t,” Sapnap repeats.

George sucks in a breath, holds it. “My place is farther,” he finally says on the exhale, “ but my bed is bigger.”

That’s true. Sapnap has a room to himself, but he’s still only got a twin. It can barely fit him sometimes.

“I’m willing to make the walk if you are,” he decides.

;;

George is willing to make the walk. Dream had come out of the bathroom not long after, wiping his hands dry on his sleep pants, then waving them out with a tired smile. Sapnap had taken George’s hand the minute the door had shut behind them, the two of them alone on the sidewalk, Sapnap tugging George even closer, using their connected hands to his advantage.

They make their way to George’s apartment slowly, despite their initial reluctance to walk. Sapnap wonders if it’s a delay of the inevitable or an enjoyment of the other’s company. (They can enjoy each others’ company within four walls, not outside where the unforgiving autumn cold that’s finally settled seeps into their bones.) George takes a breath.

“I don’t,” he starts, then makes a noise. “I don’t want anything to happen, Sapnap.”

When they pass under a streetlight, Sapnap sees George’s cheeks glow red. George glances over at him.

“You know that, right?”

Sapnap has a list of things he could say. I never even thought about that, is one. Why not? is another. “Yeah,” is what he goes with. “Don’t worry.” He squeezes George’s hand. George squeezes back.

“I just…,” George tilts his head back, looking to the sky, and Sapnap’s eyes are locked on the graceful column of his throat, “I really like you, Sapnap.” He goes back to looking ahead, but Sapnap keeps his eyes on him. “And it’s almost been a month since… since,” with his free hand, he makes a vague motion at where their other hands are locked together, “this. Whatever this is. So I just… in case you, I don’t know, expected anything.”

“It’s okay,” Sapnap says. Again, he adds, “Don’t worry.”

George smiles at him. Sapnap smiles back.

;;

When they reach George’s apartment, George unlocks the door and Sapnap follows him silently inside, chewing on his lower lip as he contemplates what he’s about to say next. Eventually, he gives up on elegance:

“You said this.” George looks over at him from where he’s locked the door. Sapnap leans against the kitchen counter. “Whatever this is.” He makes a gesture between the two of them, something indicative of the blurry relationship they have.

“I don’t know what to call it,” George says.

“I know,” Sapnap replies. “I don't know what to call it either.”

George glances around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before he looks back to Sapnap. “What do you want to call it?”

Sapnap raises his brows. “What do you want to call it?”

George gives a sigh. “Are we having this talk now?”

“When else will we have it?” Sapnap crosses his arms as George shuts off the main lights, plunging the two of them into darkness.

“I don’t know,” George replies. “In the morning?” He’s nothing but a shadow as he crosses in front of Sapnap. Sapnap refrains from reaching out to grab a wrist, pull him to his chest, demand an answer now. It doesn’t matter that much.

But it’d be nice to have some answers. And George had been right before. It’s been almost a month since that kiss in Sapnap’s dorm, lips greasy with Taco Bell yet the kiss still nice, in that way kissing someone you really, really like is. In kissing someone you could grow to love—maybe already love, deep, deep down—is.

“I just like knowing,” Sapnap finally says. “What’s wrong with that?”

A light flicks on, and when Sapnap takes a couple steps away from the counter, he realizes it’s the light for George’s bedroom. He stands out of place in the doorway before George takes notice and makes his way over to the other. 

Sapnap gives him a tight smile once they’re face to face. George studies him for a second before sighing. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” He pivots, going over to a set of drawers and tugging the middle one open. T-shirts and lounge pants are folded loosely inside. “I like knowing too.” He glances over his shoulder at Sapnap. “Do you think any of these will fit?”

George buys most of his clothes oversized. Just something Sapnap’s noticed about the other. “There’s a chance,” he replies. George tosses a few different pairs at him. Sapnap changes in the bathroom.

The first pair he tries doesn’t fit at all. He gives a small laugh to himself before grabbing the second. They fit better. The third look hot, flannel and dark, even for the weather, so he leaves them folded and tries his best to fold the other pair before dutifully marching back to George’s side to have him tuck them back into his drawer.

“We’ve been on a date before,” Sapnap says, “and a half. A date and a half. You could say we’re dating?”

“We’re about to literally sleep together,” George replies, and although his cheeks are flaming, the heat radiating off them in waves, his expression remains neutral, completely unamused. “I think we’re a bit past that.”

“So…,” Sapnap tries his luck, though he’s starting to think it less luck, and more a careful maneuver on George’s part, “you could say we’re boyfriends?”

“A bit gradeschoolish,” George replies.

Sapnap blinks at him.

George stares back before rolling his eyes and scoffing. “You’re so dumb. Yes, you could say we’re boyfriends.”

Immediately, the blank look drops off Sapnap’s face, and he grins, even as George turns on a lamp and brushes past him to turn off the bedroom light, completely ignoring him. Sapnap watches him disappear out the door and round the corner into the bathroom. There’s the sound of water running, then rummaging, then water running again, and then George’s head pops into the bedroom and he says, “I’ve got a spare toothbrush.”

Sapnap brushes his teeth and watches George’s shadow every time its reflection appears in the mirror. He holds back a sudsy laugh when he realizes the taste of George’s toothpaste is familiar. He rinses and spits then straightens and runs a hand through his hair. It’s gotten longer since the start of the semester. Since he’s met George. When he tugs his fingers through the ends, they get caught on knots. He does his best to untangle them without a brush. He gives up less than a minute in.

When he gets back into George’s room, George is already in bed, looking at something on his phone. Sapnap bites back a giddy smile, crawling into bed next to him, immediately pressing a kiss to his temple then sliding down the bed and wrapping an arm around his waist. 

George sets his phone down on the bedside table before looking down at him. “You’re very affectionate,” he says.

“So I’ve been told,” Sapnap replies.

George stares at him for another handful of seconds. Sapnap stares back. George blinks, then stretches to turn off the lamp. They’re left in the dark once again.

Sapnap is forced to lift his arm when George gets properly under the covers, the sheets tugged up to his chin. He’s flat on his back, and when Sapnap sets his arm back down, this time across his chest, he can feel the tension in him. George takes in a breath, and when he lets it out, Sapnap feels it shudder.

“George,” Sapnap says, and then, a leap of faith, “baby.”

George turns his head. Beneath Sapnap’s arm, his heart pounds.

“C’mere,” Sapnap says. A second. Two seconds. George rolls onto his side. Now, they watch each other, face to face. Sapnap can’t pick up any details on George’s, the room too dark, the most he can figure out being the slope of George’s nose, the occasional movement of his eyes. The window is behind George. Sapnap wonders if George can see him more clearly. 

Sapnap gets his arm further round George, pulling him close. When George lets out a breath, Sapnap feels it warm through his shirt. When George blinks, Sapnap feels the feathery kisses his lashes leave on his skin.

“You’re really warm,” Sapnap says.

From beneath the covers, George’s fingers twist and tangle in his shirt. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

A car passes by outside. George gives a small sigh. Sapnap brushes the pads of his fingers across the back of George’s neck.

“You can,” the words get muffled into Sapnap’s chest.

“What?” Sapnap asks.

George tilts his head back. “Your shirt,” he says. “You can take it off if you want.”

It’s Sapnap’s heart’s turn to pound.

George goes back to lying on his back. And then he rolls onto his side, but this time, he faces the window. Sapnap studies the curve of his shoulder. Then he sits up. And he pulls off his shirt.

He doesn’t really know what to do with it. Dropping it on the floor seems messy, but folding it and putting it on the bedside table just feels weird. No matter what, he’s not getting out of bed. He glances over and has to fight back the urge to jump. George has rolled back over, now staring at him.

Sapnap drops his shirt on the floor. George scoffs before rolling back over.

“I didn’t know what to do!” Sapnap immediately defends himself. He gets back under the covers. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” George replies.

Sapnap moves closer. “Stop,” George says.

Sapnap places a hand on George’s shoulder. It’s warm under his palm.

“Sapnap,” George says.

“George,” Sapnap replies. He runs his hand from George’s shoulder down to his chest. Again, he can feel his heartbeat. He pulls the other closer, so George’s back is pressed to his chest.

“No,” George says. “I’m not… spooning with you.” The word is spat with venom.

Sapnap sighs, nose tickled by the other’s hair. “Night, babe.”

“Sapnap.” George’s fingers curl around Sapnap’s wrist. They make no move to pull his hand away. He makes no move to push him away.

He still hasn’t said butterscotch. Sapnap is pretty sure he’s not going to say butterscotch. George lets out a breath. Sapnap feels him relax against his chest. Another car passes by. Sapnap hears it outside. Sees the change in lighting from behind his eyelids.

George lets out a quiet breath. “Whatever,” he finally says, more to himself than to Sapnap. “Night, Sapnap.”

Sapnap hums and delights in the shiver it sends through George. When he falls asleep, it’s to the steady sound of George breathing and the light movements of George tracing shapes on the back of his hand. Sapnap wonders what exactly it is he’s drawing. Wonders if he’s drawing anything in particular at all.

;;

When Sapnap wakes, George is still asleep. They’ve changed positions sometime in the night, both of them apparently being the type to spread out (and it had felt nice, Sapnap notes, not just to wake up next to George, but to wake up in a bed that he can actually stretch out in), so now George, Sapnap sees after sitting up all the way, has a foot just off the edge of the bed, the bump of it clear under the blanket, an arm flung back towards Sapnap, the other close to his head, fingers brushing the hair near his ear. The leg closer to Sapnap is tangled with Sapnap’s own. Sapnap’s not sure which of them is the cause for that.

There’s not much to do yet. It’s a Saturday, and while Dream didn’t have plans, he didn’t have any either. George might, but Sapnap is pretty sure that’s unlikely. He lets himself fall back onto the bed, head bouncing lightly against the pillow. George makes a soft sound from next to him. Sapnap takes his hand. He tries not to think the curl that appears at the corner of George’s lips is because of him.

George sleeps for another hour, Sapnap drifting in and out of wakefulness next to him. The final time Sapnap wakes, he knows he won’t be falling back asleep, but it doesn’t matter, because George huffs then slowly blinks open his eyes, staring blankly at the wall before looking over at Sapnap.

“G’morning,” he says.

“Morning,” Sapnap replies.

“Breakfast?” George asks.

“I’m down.”

Neither of them move.

George gives a soft laugh. Sapnap smiles at the sound.

“I might have eggs in the fridge,” George says. He looks over at the other. “I have apple juice.”

Still, neither of them move. Sapnap grins as George sighs and presses the heels of his palms over his eyes.

“There’s a diner on 3rd and Ashmore,” Sapnap tells him. “Want to try there?”

“Sounds good,” George replies.

They sit there for another second before George swings his legs off the bed and Sapnap leans over to pick his t-shirt off the floor.

“I might have a sweater you can wear,” George says. “You can put it on over your shirt.”

“Yeah?” Sapnap asks.

George tosses him a sweatshirt. It’s a pale grey, crewneck. Sapnap tugs it on over his head. It’s a little tight. George sighs, grabbing Sapnap’s jacket off the chair he had set it on the night before. “Never mind. It’s fine. Not like anyone saw you last night anyway.”

“Scared they’ll think you’re sleeping around?” Sapnap teases. George sends him an unamused look, taking the sweatshirt back when Sapnap hands it to him. “George the neighborhood whore?”

“Shouldn’t you be a little nicer to your boyfriend?” George asks, and while Sapnap is choking on his words, George sends him a playful look, hanging the sweatshirt back up in his closet.

Sapnap gets a grip on himself and gives him a smile back. “That’s not a no.”

“Yes,” George tells him, “because I’m just such a whore. Always sleeping around.”

Sapnap stands, going over to George, backing him up into the bedroom door. “I wouldn’t mind,” he says, “if that were the case. I know it’s not, but even if it were, I don’t care.”

“I don’t care either,” George replies. Sapnap wonders if George thinks that was the case with him. “I,” they had tentatively locked eyes, George’s occasionally glowing amber when caught by the morning light slipping through the blinds, but now, George looks away, at some distant point past Sapnap, “like you as you are. If that’s how you were, it wouldn’t matter. I like you.”

“Can I kiss you?” Sapnap asks, breath caught in his throat. At George’s concerned look, Sapnap waves a hand. “Morning breath, I—you—you seem like you’d care about that.”

George presses a kiss to the corner of Sapnap’s lips. Sapnap lifts a hand and runs his fingers along George’s chin, gets pricked by the short, short stubble there, then tilts his head and kisses George proper on the lips. George kisses back.

When they separate, George keeps his eyes closed. Sapnap bumps their noses together.

“In the future,” George says, “I’ll care about that.”

Sapnap really wants to say I love you.

“I’m sure you will,” he says instead.

;;

For breakfast, Sapnap has steak and eggs. George has French toast. To drink, he has apple juice. Sapnap stares into his own black coffee.

“Very nice,” George tells him. “Very stereotypical.”

“Are you really judging my food choices right now?” Sapnap asks.

George lifts his cup to his lips, taking a sip of his juice as he raises a single brow. Sapnap tries to be defiant, firm in his choices, but his eyes are continually drawn to George’s throat, the pale skin there. His gaze is only broken by George setting the glass back down. Sapnap swallows. He can’t say if George’s eyes following the movement is deliberate.

He looks back up. George has moved on, cutting into his toast, taking a bite.

“It’s good,” he says, once he’s swallowed. “How’s yours?”

Sapnap cuts into his steak. It’s good.

They eat, and their legs once again tangle, this time under a table instead of blankets.

;;

Despite what they had all told each other the day before, George and Sapnap end up not seeing Dream again.

“Sorry,” he tells them over a Discord call, George and Sapnap both at George’s computer, Sapnap having dragged the chair in the corner of George’s bedroom over to the desk. “Someone kind of high profile asked me to code something for them. I wasn’t going to turn it down. It was a good offer.”

“We didn’t expect you to turn it down,” George replies. “We don’t want you to turn it down.”

“Yeah, man,” Sapnap agrees. “That’s great. Secure that bag.”

“Secure that bag?” George echoes. “Seriously?”

“Let’s get this bread,” Sapnap says solemnly. “Make his pockets hurt.”

“I already did,” George replies.

“Still,” Dream cuts in easily, making George and Sapnap immediately stop, heads turning once again to the computer, “I’m sorry. I’ll see you Monday or Tuesday maybe.”

“You want a rematch?” George asks him. “It’s been awhile since I’ve completely obliterated you.”

“Whatever,” Dream laughs. “I’ll see you.”

“See you,” George and Sapnap agree. And then the call ends. And then it’s just them.

Part of Sapnap feels like he’s overstaying his welcome. Part of him wants to overstay his welcome, wants to stay forever. Part of him feels like George would say something if he were. If not get out , then butterscotch or something. But George has stayed silent, content to have Sapnap by his side.

At that thought, Sapnap leans over, a hand coming to rest on George’s thigh. George shifts, and Sapnap’s hand falls. That was the movement’s intention. Sapnap readjusts, placing his hand on the edge of George’s chair. George returns to his previous position. Sapnap leaves his hand where it is.

George takes a breath then leans back, head rolling on his neck to look over at Sapnap. “Got any work to do?”

“Nope,” Sapnap replies, popping the p. George hums, eyes slipping shut.

“Got any plans at all?”

“Nope,” Sapnap repeats. “No obligations, nowhere I need to be. I can go home if you want me to, though.”

“You don’t need to,” George replies. And then he glances behind to the bed. “I might take a nap.”

“You want me to say something,” Sapnap says, eyes narrowing. “What is it?”

George looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I want you,” he says, “to do whatever you think you should be doing right now.” 

And with that, he rises from his chair, tugs off his tennis shoes, and falls onto the bed.

“In jeans?” Sapnap asks him, crossing his arms as best as he can at the angle he’s at.

George grunts. Sapnap sighs, taking the pair of sweatpants George had left on the dresser and dropping them on the bed next to George.

“You want any water or anything?” he asks.

George keeps his eyes closed. “I’m good, thanks.”

Sapnap studies him for a second before heading to the bathroom.

He really has no idea what George wants from him. 

Really, going into the bathroom was just him stalling, more for George’s benefit than his—he’s completely certain he’ll reenter George’s bedroom to see the other wearing the sweatpants he had set next to him—but he does use it as a moment to wonder just what he’s supposed to be doing.

When he goes back into George’s room, the other is lying the way he had been when he left, but, just as Sapnap thought, he’s now wearing sweatpants, an arm thrown across his eyes.

Sapnap takes a seat next to him, then lets out a breath and lets himself relax back onto the bed. George’s arm falls from his eyes. Together, they stare up at the ceiling.

“Can we just stay like this?” George finally asks.

Sapnap looks over at him.

George remains looking at the ceiling.

“Like what?”

“You’re so affectionate, Sapnap.” George’s fingers brush his. Sapnap fights the urge to take them. “It’s a lot for me.” George finally turns his head and meets Sapnap’s eyes.

Sapnap holds his breath. George’s fingers run up his arm, tickle quick over his shoulder, finally scratch through the slight beard he has. “Sorry,” Sapnap says.

George takes a breath, then shifts, turning himself onto his side. “Not your fault. It’s just new. A lot of this is,” he gives a quiet exhale, “new.” His fingers still press against Sapnap’s skin. They’re warm. Sapnap swears when they fall away, his skin will be stained red.

“I like it,” George finally says. “New is good.”

“That’s good,” Sapnap says.

“It is,” George agrees. “I like this a lot.”

“In the future, you’ll care?” Sapnap asks.

George laughs, gentle, soft. “I already do.”

;;

The rest of the weekend passed slowly, time molasses. Sapnap hadn’t spent the night again, the two of them finally napping, then Sapnap slipping out when they next woke, delivering a kiss to George’s lips then tugging his jacket over his shoulders and heading out into the October cold. He’d taken his time on the walk home, an opposite of Friday night—reluctance to leave, each step heavier than the last. By the time he gets to his dorm, he swears his feet are stone.

Wearily, he eyes his desk. Atop it lay various assignments, all at different degrees of completion. Most aren’t due till Friday or the next week entirely—he’d meant it when he told George he’s got nothing he needs to be doing—but with nothing to take his immediate attention anymore, he finds himself wondering if now would be a good time to complete it all.

He gets through an assignment and a half before he finds his thoughts wandering. Some of them go towards eating; he and George had slept through lunch, and now it’s practically dinnertime, and Sapnap is hungry. But most of them go towards George, towards a thought he’d had that morning.

I love you.

He rolls the thought around in his mind. Reshapes it.

I love you, George.

A beat.

“You’re so affectionate, Sapnap. It’s a lot for me.”

Sapnap groans, head coming to rest in his hands. When he lifts his head again, he pushes his hair back. An I love you now would be too soon. They’ve just declared themselves boyfriends, and now Sapnap is thinking about I love yous.

It is a lot. For anyone. Sapnap is the odd one out here. He knows it’s a problem, but he just doesn’t know any other way to be.

;;

meeting dream today, gonna try and kick his ass. wish me luck?

Sapnap smiles down at the text that lights up his phone. Kick his ass babe, gl but u got this

thanks

Sapnap slips his phone back into his pocket. It vibrates. Sapnap pulls it out once more.

It’s probably the bare minimum. There’s no words involved. But it stops Sapnap short, leaving him staring down at his screen with wide eyes. He wonders if he’s pink. His skin feels warm. 

<3

It means something. It’s George. It has to mean something.

;;

“I brought Taco Bell,” George announces when Sapnap swings the door open.

George pushes past him easily, setting the bags at an empty spot on Sapnap’s desk while Dream brings up the rear, shirt wet with condensation from their drinks.

“It only felt right,” George tells him as Dream gives him his Baja Blast.

“I’m here this time, though,” Dream says, pulling out a burrito from one of the bags George sat down. “Please don’t make any jumps in your relationship while I’m still in the room, thanks.”

George glares at him then takes a menacing bite of his Quesarito.

Sapnap turns to Dream with wide eyes. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

“It won’t be,” George says.

“I didn’t realize you’re so sentimental, George,” Dream finally speaks up after a few minutes of them just eating their food.

“I’m not,” George replies.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Dream sends him an unamused look, but George just gives him one right back.

“Really,” he says. “I’m not.” He glances at Sapnap. Dream catches it. “I’m not really doing this for myself, anyway.”

Sapnap flushes, staring down at his gordita. Dream looks between them, blinks, exhales. Sapnap thinks he’s going to say something ridiculous. All he says is, “Couples,” and that’s that.

George catches his eye, smiles, and it’s like they’re sharing a secret. Sapnap likes it.

He loves it.

;;

With a new week comes the panic of midterms. Sapnap had thought he’d been overwhelmed before, but now he’s drowning, completely slipping under murky waters.

George pulls him out with a heated chocolate croissant and a pat on the head.

Sapnap smiles at him as he walks away.

Dream sits on a chair next to him, flipping through one of the New Yorker s left on the little table in front of them. Sapnap blinks at his laptop before setting it aside and stretching. “You’re so lucky, man,” he tells Dream, who gives a noncommittal hum and turns a page. “I mean it. Midterms are the worst.”

“Yeah,” Dream agrees. “Tests are annoying.”

“They’re dumb,” Sapnap says, conviction coloring his words. “Memorization is dumb.”

“Just a couple more years of this,” Dream replies.

Sapnap sighs, picking up the chocolate croissant and taking a bite. “Just a couple more years.”

After a few more minutes, Dream heaves a sigh. “It’s getting to me,” he says.

“Sorry,” Sapnap replies, like he can in some way change the strength of the coffee.

“It’s fine,” Dream dismisses, then he stands, dropping the magazine back onto the table. “See you later.”

Sapnap sends him a smile as he waves at George, who’s moved back behind the counter.

“See you!” George calls as the door slides shut behind Dream.

“That was pretty long, I think,” Sapnap says when George makes his way over a few minutes later, now on break, taking up Dream’s empty chair. “We’d been here almost an hour.”

“That is long,” George agrees. “How long are you staying?”

“You get off at four?” Sapnap asks, and George nods. “Want to get dinner with Dream and I after?”

“Of course.” George smiles, and Sapnap smiles back.

;;

Despite all of his manic studying—or perhaps because of it—midterms the next week pass by relatively quickly, him coming out of his last class Friday tired but content. He doesn’t really think he got an A, but he’s sure his mark will be pretty damn close. 

A few hours and a billion failed Minecraft speedruns later, Sapnap gets a message from Dream.

I know movie nights r every other week, but u just finished midterms. Wanna come over?

Sapnap’s at the other’s house before he even thinks about it. “Uh, yes, I want to come over,” he tells Dream when the other opens the door. “What are we watching?” 

“Whatever you want,” Dream replies. “You’re the one who’s got nothing to worry about anymore.”

Sapnap grins, plucking a movie off the shelf. “Here,” he hands it to Dream. “Popcorn?”

“You know it,” Dream replies, getting the movie set up.

When the popcorn is done, Dream is on the couch, remote in hand. “Good?”

Sapnap nods, setting the bowl between them.

The movie passes by quickly, and they move onto the next one—it turns into a right marathon by the time the sun has set, and eventually, the bowl of popcorn is empty, and they’re leaning against one another in the center of the couch.

At a lull in the movie, a quiet moment between the two main characters, Sapnap speaks:

“I think I’m in love with George.”

Dream is quiet for a moment. Sapnap feels him shift against him. Their shoulders press together. “He’s easy to love,” Dream echoes his words from weeks before.

“Easy to scare,” Sapnap replies.

More movement.

“Is there ever a right time to say I love you?” Dream asks. “If you love them, let them know.”

“He told me that I’m a lot,” Sapnap tells him. “That I’m a lot for him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t say it like that,” Dream says. Sapnap gives a half-hearted shrug. Dream sits up, angling himself to better face Sapnap. Sapnap imitates his pose. Like this, he can only see half of Dream’s face, one side lit up by the TV screen, the other cast in shadow. “It’s been a month,” Dream continues, “and a half. I think George is the type of guy where, if he feels like you’re too much, if he doesn’t like you, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to sit there, miserable, waiting for you to pull the plug.”

Dream is right because of course he is, but Sapnap still shifts, uncomfortable. “I just… I am a lot. We don’t spend all the time together, but I’m so much more affectionate than he is, and it’s like… I already love him, and—and—we have a safeword, Dream. Like this is some BDSM thing. But it’s not for that, it’s for how much I fucking hold his hand.”

“But isn't that proof?” Dream asks. “That’s communication. Compromise. He wants this to work, Sap. He wants to be with you. Wants you.” He smiles, hand reaching between them to hold Sapnap’s shoulder. “He wants the guy that’s pushy and loud and in your face, the guy that drinks too many vanilla fraps and gets competitive over everything and likes to cuddle. He wouldn’t have decided to go out with you—hell, I don’t even think he’d have kissed you—if that isn’t who he wanted.” He leans back, hand stroking warm down Sapnap’s arm, and the minute it falls back into his lap, Sapnap leans forward to throw his arms around the other.

“I love you,” Sapnap says, turning his face to press his nose into Dream’s neck. “I’m so lucky you’re my best friend.”

Though his arms are pinned awkwardly to his sides, Dream still manages to reach and get his hands on Sapnap’s waist where he squeezes the other in a poor imitation of a hug. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t my best friend,” he replies. “I love you too.” 

When Sapnap pulls away, Dream smiles. “But I don’t think I’m the one you need to be saying I love you to, though.”

Sapnap sleeps on Dream’s couch that night and dreams of the different ways telling George he loves him could go.

He’s pleased to note that most of the scenarios end positively.

;;

Saturday he spends the night at George’s again. He lies in bed, quiet, with George next to him, one of the older’s hands holding his phone, the other affectionately brushing through Sapnap’s hair. Sapnap gives a quiet sigh before rolling over and touching his nose to George’s hip. George hums and twirls a lock of Sapnap’s hair around a thin finger.

“You okay?” George asks.

Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut and nuzzles further into the other's side. “Tired.”

“Fall break is coming up,” George consoles him, “and midterms are over.”

Sapnap nods, arm stretching out and over George’s waist. His fingers brush along George’s side, featherlight. George flinches away from it with a giggle. Sapnap tilts his head, eyes opening and gaze flitting to George’s face. It’s a bad angle, but he can still make out the smile there.

He loves George, he knows that now. He’s in love with George.

And George wants him. Wants the him that touches too much and feels too much and loves more than he should. George wants that. George has that. And he likes it.

Sapnap sighs, sinking back into George’s side. George plugs his phone in then turns off the lamp. Before he gets fully under the covers, Sapnap feels his fingers run through his hair one more time before a kiss is pressed to the top of his head.

“Goodnight, Sapnap,” George whispers.

Sapnap squeezes George as best as he can, delivers warm kisses to the parts of George he can reach. “Night, baby.”

George hums, touching the tips of their noses together (with the action, Sapnap swears he did some kind of witchcraft to steal his breath), before rolling over, back to Sapnap’s front. Sapnap bites back a smile. He wonders if George would call this spooning. Because that’s what it is.

He buries his nose in the soft hair at the nape of George’s neck. It’d be easy to say it now. Let the words slip out and if George questions him on it, he can blame it on sleep. A slip of the tongue.

But he doesn’t want it to be a mistake, even if that’s a lie to save his own face. He wants the words to be deliberate, the meaning of them felt by George wholly.

He sighs, and George shivers with it. Sapnap makes a small noise of apology.

“What’re you thinking about?” George finally asks.

Sapnap takes in a breath. He’s not sure what to answer.

“You don’t have to tell me,” George says.

“I want to,” Sapnap replies.

George exhales, the sound loud, before rolling back over. When he’s facing Sapnap, a hand comes up to hold Sapnap’s cheek.

“I think you’re more affectionate than you realize,” Sapnap tells him.

“I think you just make me affectionate,” George replies.

Sapnap stares at him. George stares back before he lifts his hand, fingertips remaining against Sapnap’s skin. He runs them over his cheek, then across his lower lip. And then they go back to his cheek, and George is moving to slot their lips together.

When they separate, Sapnap smiles. He’s pretty sure George smiles back. He presses one more kiss to George’s lips.

He could say it now. George’s fingers begin to tangle into the ends of Sapnap’s hair. His mouth is hot underneath Sapnap’s own. Their breath intermingles. Under the sheets, their legs have tangled together. The two of them are practically completely intertwined.

Against his lips, Sapnap feels George smile.

He says it.

The words hang heavy in the minimal space between them. Sapnap’s heart is equally heavy in his chest as he anticipates George’s reaction. He wants to ramble—apologize, take them back, clarify, tell him that he loves him but he isn’t in love with him (but he is)—but he doesn’t. The words are what they are. He means them.

Though his face seems to now be void of the smile he wore, George doesn’t move away, and they remain tangled together. George rubs his thumb over the curve of Sapnap’s cheek.

He feels George’s breath. George kisses him softly. And then he replies: “I can’t say it yet, Sapnap.” His other hand finds Sapnap’s own. Holds it. “I feel it. I’m, like, certain I do. But I can’t say it yet. Not like that.”

Sapnap sucks in a breath, closes his eyes, nods. “I get it. That’s fine. I love you, though. I just… wanted you to know.”

At that, George laughs, a quiet, warm sound. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.” A beat. And then, “The minute I can say it myself, I’ll tell you.”

Sapnap smiles. “I’m holding you to that.”

George rolls back over. Instead of waiting for Sapnap to curl around him, he backs up, pulls Sapnap’s arm over him. Readjusts so it’s even harder to separate their legs. “Goodnight, Sapnap.” He means it this time.

Sapnap closes his eyes, relaxes. The words are out there now. And George accepts them. No take-backs.

“Goodnight.”

;;

Neither bring it up later. It happened—Sapnap definitely told him—but the words stay only in the air between them, felt but never heard. They go on a walk, no destination in mind, just enjoying each other’s company, and at the local cafe (an actual cafe, not the Starbucks George works at), they split a hot chocolate topped with a mountain of whipped cream that ages them a hundred years only for those years to be wiped away with a thumb. At one point, George has some stuck to the corner of his lips, and Sapnap can’t help but lean forward to lick it away. Of course, George shrieks and shoves him back, flustered and grossed out, but his lips are upturned.

“Sweet,” Sapnap tells him.

“You’re so annoying,” George replies.

“You’re cute,” Sapnap shoots back.

George flushes and takes the mug from Sapnap’s hands, lifting it to his lips so he can hide the smile on his lips. It only works so well. Sapnap lets the moment go, though.

“Normally that’d be butterscotch,” George tells him as they exit the cafe. “I can’t believe you did that. That’s so disgusting.”

Sapnap laces their fingers together. George huffs.

“The only reason you got away with it is because I didn’t expect it.” George kicks a pebble lying in his path. “So annoying.”

Sapnap doesn’t bring it up, but he does say it again.

George stutters out a laugh. Sapnap feels George’s hand squeeze his. It’s enough.

;;

The weeks pass by quickly after that, and soon Sapnap finds himself Friday night sitting between George and Dream while an early 2000s sci-fi movie plays on the TV. They weren’t supposed to have movie night this week either, but come tomorrow morning Sapnap is supposed to head down south for Thanksgiving with his family, so this is their last hurrah together.

They’re a bit like dominoes, actually, Dream sitting normally on the couch, Sapnap’s back resting pressed against his side, and George leaning on Sapnap. Idly, he plays with Sapnap’s fingers. To add to George’s amusement, Sapnap flexes and stretches his fingers. Meanwhile, Dream tugs on his hair.

“It’s probably best you head home soon,” Dream says. “Not to kick you out, but it’s a long drive tomorrow.”

“How many hours away is Houston anyway?” George asks, voice muffled with the way his cheek is squished against Sapnap’s chest.

“Too many,” Sapnap says. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

“We’ll miss you too,” Dream tells him. 

George makes an affirmative noise.

“But it’s only for a week,” Sapnap says. “And then I’ll be back up here.”

“You don’t normally focus on that,” Dream tells him, more for George’s sake than his. Sapnap flushes, glancing down at George, who stares back with inquisitive eyes. “But I guess now you have something to come back to. Someone.”

“I like spending time with you.”

Dream scoffs. “Like distance ever mattered when it comes to us.”

“Huh?” George pushes himself up and Sapnap sends Dream a dirty look.

“I like cuddling with the homies well enough, but affection from you is way different from affection from George.” He pulls George back down on top of him. “Affection from you is like… a jacket. Nice to have, really nice, but not a necessity. George is a shirt. No shirt, no shoes, no service.”

Dream guffaws. “I hope I’m not just a jacket to you guys, but a friend too.”

“You’re my friend, Dream,” George tells him.

“I love you, George!” Dream immediately replies, and George hides a laugh in Sapnap’s chest.

The movie ends not long after that, and soon Sapnap is heading home.

“I can walk myself home just fine,” George tells him when they reach the intersection that Sapnap is supposed to turn at.

“But I like walking you home,” Sapnap replies.

“But you need to rest,” George tells him, smile on his face. He brushes a strand of hair out of Sapnap’s eyes. “I can help you pack your car in the morning?”

“Do you want to?”

George just continues to smile.

“Why are you like this?” Sapnap asks, and then he leans forward and George lifts a hand to cup the back of his neck. They kiss, and when they separate, Sapnap squeezes George’s waist. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Sleep well,” George replies.

“I’ll try.” George smiles, and Sapnap smiles back. George’s hand slips from his neck, and Sapnap’s hand falls from his waist. George starts to walk away. “Goodnight!” Sapnap calls after him. “Love you!”

“Goodnight, Sapnap!” George calls back.

;;

George greets him with a kiss and a coffee and bagel pressed into his hands. “For the road,” he says, and Sapnap thanks him, setting the things aside and drawing George into a deeper kiss than the chaste one he was given. “For the road?”

Sapnap grins. “For me. A week away from you. You know I need my kissies.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” George says. “Oh my God. I think I’m going to be sick.”

Sapnap laughs before tugging his backpack over his shoulders. Dragging his suitcase behind him, he leads George to the parking lot, where he lifts his suitcase and sets it into the trunk. “Seriously, though,” he says, “this’ll be fun.”

“An experiment,” George replies. “A week apart. How will we fare?”

Sapnap grins, and George smiles back.

“Remember me while I’m away,” Sapnap tells him. “Don’t go falling for the first pretty face you see.”

“Of course not,” George says solemnly, and Sapnap laughs. George studies him for a second before once again kissing him. “Three’s a lucky number.”

“I didn’t think you believed in luck,” Sapnap says.

“I don’t,” George replies.

Another kiss. George makes a small noise.

“Four,” Sapnap says. “Actually, I think that’s unlucky in China. I read that somewhere.”

One more.

“How’s five?” George asks.

“Eh,” Sapnap says. “Even numbers are better.”

“Seven is lucky.”

“Eight?”

“Pushing it.”

Sapnap leans away from where he’d come to pin George against the door. George straightens up, readjusts his shirt. Sapnap runs a hand through his hair. George tracks the movement with his eyes. Sapnap’s hand falls back to his side.

“Thanks,” he says.

George huffs a small laugh. “Don’t mention it.”

Sapnap studies him for a second before pulling him into a hug. “I really will miss you,” he says. “I’ll see you.”

“You’re getting on the server with Dream and I if you’re not too tired tonight, right?” George asks.

“Duh.”

George nods. Sapnap feels it against his neck.

“I’ll miss you too,” George finally says.

Sapnap holds him tighter.

;;

Despite the drama of him leaving, Thanksgiving passes by without much fuss. 

They voice call a fair amount and when Sapnap gets to Houston he does hop on the SMP for a bit, a couple hours later passing out mid-call. When he wakes, the lights are all shut off and his blinds are closed.

He’s grateful.

Dream FaceTimes him on Thanksgiving, showing Sapnap his and George’s… creative feast.

“I still can’t believe you guys are having it together,” Sapnap tells the two, completely ignoring the football game on TV to focus entirely on them.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Dream asks him. “George’s family is in England, and it’s not like they celebrate, and I’m not going to Florida this year. Why not?”

That’s fair. 

“Still,” Sapnap says anyway. “And did you just call every nearby restaurant?”

“It’s an assortment,” George says.

“But it’s good,” Dream continues. “Besides, it’s more about the leftovers than the meal.”

Also fair, and Sapnap finds himself with an array of Tupperware from his family’s Thanksgiving in his backseat as he drives back to school. When he’s back inside his dorm, staring at his minifridge, he realizes they won’t all fit in the small space.

“Can I use your fridge?”

“Welcome back, Sapnap,” George replies. “How was your break?”

“I’m offering you free food,” Sapnap says.

“And I’m asking how your break was.”

Sapnap makes a face. “Good. I’m happy to be back. Now, can I please use your fridge?”

A pause. “You only love me for my house,” George finally says. “That’s so wrong of you.”

It’s the first time George has ever brought up Sapnap’s love for him, even as a joke. Sapnap takes a breath. “I do love you for your house,” he replies, teasing before turning serious, “but I also love you for a lot of other reasons. You’re very lovable, you know.”

George is quiet for a second before Sapnap hears movement. “When are you coming over here?”

Sapnap gets an Uber, knowing parking near George’s apartment is risky at best. “Ten minutes?” he says when his phone tells him his driver will be there soon.

“Okay.” Sapnap listens as George putters around. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” George replies immediately, and then, “you’ll see.”

“M'kay,” Sapnap says. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Bye,” George says, and then ends the call.

Sapnap looks down into his plastic bag of remaining Tupperware. His phone pings—the driver’s outside.

;;

“Are you ready to eat leftovers for months?” Sapnap asks, setting the bags down on the counter. “Or at least as long as they last.”

George opens the first bag, pulling out a medium-sized container stuffed full of mashed potatoes. Immediately, he finds a place in his fridge to tuck it into. He does this with the rest of the containers, Sapnap taking them out and setting them on the empty counter space for George to pick up and put away. When they’re done, George comes to lean next to Sapnap.

“We survived,” he says.

“I knew we would,” Sapnap replies.

They’re on each other in an instant.

“I’m not usually into this,” George says hotly into his mouth.

“I know,” Sapnap says.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” George continues.

“Do you need to know?” Sapnap asks.

George moans at the nip Sapnap gives to his lower lip.

“No,” George replies. “No.” Sapnap runs a burning trail of bites soothed by his tongue down George’s neck. “Sapnap.”

Against his skin, Sapnap smiles.

George gasps when Sapnap moves to press George into the couch instead, the cushions definitely comfier than the linoleum counter. “I missed you so much,” Sapnap says, each word punctuated by a kiss.

“You—Sapnap, yes—too.” George gets his fingers twisted and tangled into his hair, drags him up roughly. Sapnap bites back a groan at the sting and George pulls him into a bruising kiss. “Shit. I missed you.”

Sapnap lets himself be pulled down over George’s body, more than happy to press him further into the couch.

;;

George doesn’t let Sapnap skip his first class on Monday.

“School is important,” he tells him, zipping up his jacket like some mother hen. Sapnap makes a face when his hands brush imaginary dust off his shoulders.

“What are you going to do when I’m gone?” Sapnap asks.

George laughs. “Leaving for a week again?”

Sapnap gives him a dry look.

George smiles, soft. “I’m going to work. You’ll see me in, like, four… five hours at most. Is that really the end of the world?”

Sapnap grabs his hands from where they’d come to rest on his chest, pulling George in closer. “I just like spending time with you.”

“I love spending time with you too,” George says, “and you don’t see me clinging to you.”

“You think this is clingy?” Sapnap raises a brow in a silent challenge, and George tries to back up, but Sapnap just gives another tug to his hands before pulling him into a hug and wrapping his arms tight around him. “You wish I were clingy! You want me to be more clingy, actually.”

“I do not,” George replies, words warm against Sapnap’s ear. Sapnap holds back a shiver as George wriggles in his arms. “You’re… I like you like this.”

Sapnap holds him closer. George lets him.

He pulls away after a moment, the day finally catching up to them. “Class,” George tells Sapnap.

“Work,” Sapnap tells George.

They reach the Starbucks and George squeezes his hand. “See you,” he says.

“Love you,” Sapnap replies. And then George is disappearing into the cafe, the words dissipating in the growing space between them.

;;

The rest of the week passes by slowly, each day slouching into the next. Sapnap looks over at George, whose lips are wrapped pretty around a cake pop. He’s been quiet, more so than usual, and it sets Sapnap on edge, each word coming out of him more hesitant than the last.

Come Saturday, and he finds himself confronting the other.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says.

“I’m not avoiding you,” is immediately shot back, and Sapnap rushes forward, George bringing a hand up between them to push him away. “I’m not. I’m just….”

“I’m too much,” Sapnap says, filling in the words himself.

George is adamant. “No! You’re—you’re—you’re you, and I—Sapnap, I really—,” he makes a small noise and Sapnap tries to get closer again, but George’s hand comes back up and he mutters a quick butterscotch. 

“What’s wrong?” Sapnap asks. “I did something.”

“You—no,” George shoves past Sapnap to get a glass and fill it up with tap water. He takes a quick drink before pouring the rest down the drain. “You love me so much,” he finally says.

“You’re lovable,” Sapnap replies. “Everything about you, George. It’s just—you’re so easy to love.”

“That’s what Dream had said,” George tells him, and Sapnap swallows at the lump that’s built in his throat like sediment, little bits and pieces added to the pile till it cuts off Sapnap’s airways and he’s left floundering, gasping for air. George gives a quiet laugh. “I thought,” he swallows, takes a breath in contrast to Sapnap’s struggle, “it was too soon. I’m not good at this, Sapnap.”

Sapnap moves to speak, but George continues, setting the glass in the sink before his fingers curl into the countertop, knuckles turning white from his grip. He takes another breath. “I love you,” he says, all in one breath. “It shouldn’t have happened so fast. I’m… I’m terrified, Sapnap.”

When Sapnap takes a hesitant step closer, George lets him. He lifts a hand and brushes back some of George’s hair before running his knuckles over George’s cheek, down to his neck. He curls his fingers around the back, brushes them through the short hair there. Under his palm, George is tense.

George breathes, and it comes out in a shudder. “Everything about you is so much.” He straightens, meets Sapnap’s eyes. “I’m trying, Sapnap. But sometimes I think you’re just too much for me.” 

And then he shrugs off Sapnap's hand, moves around him, disappears into his bedroom. Sapnap hears the door click. He stands alone in the kitchen, his only source of light the one over the stove. He thinks it might be dimmer than usual. He waits. George doesn’t come back out. Sapnap wonders if he’s been broken up with. George still doesn’t come back out.

Sapnap looks at the empty plastic bags on the counter. He gathers them in his hands. George can keep his leftovers. He never really wanted them anyway.

;;

“I think George broke up with me,” Sapnap accepts the apple slice Dream hands him, and at the sight of the fruit, it’s like the dam he tried to build surrounding thoughts of George breaks and all those pent up feelings come pouring out, “yesterday. He told me he loved me. And then he left me.” His grandma had made some apple cobbler. It sits on the second shelf of George’s fridge. George’s favorite fruit is apples. 

Sapnap takes a bite out of the slice. Dream sits next to him on the couch, setting the tray of assorted fruit on the coffee table. “Did he actually say that?” Dream asks. “That he’s breaking up with you.”

“He left,” Sapnap repeats. “He said, ‘I love you. You’re too much for me.’ Then he just… walked into his room, shut the door, and that was it.”

“Talk to him again,” Dream says. “He told you he loved you. I don’t think that’s nothing for George.”

Sapnap sighs. It’s not. Dream smiles at him, and Sapnap leans over, resting his head on the other’s shoulder.

“It’ll be fine,” Dream tells him. “Communication is always key.”

As always, he’s right.

;;

He doesn’t want to have any major conversations at Starbucks, but he feels if he doesn’t do it now he won’t do it at all. There hasn’t been any word between him and George since that conversation in the kitchen, but Sapnap doesn’t let that deter him, instead pressing on determinedly as he walks inside and sees George’s usual station devoid of, well, George.

“Called in sick today,” Sarah tells him as she finishes putting whipped cream on someone’s drink. “Thought he’d have told you.”

Sapnap blinks. “Uh,” he says, and then, “think he fell back asleep before he could. Thanks.” Sarah waves nonchalantly, but Sapnap is out the door before he can see it.

The walk to George’s has him tugging at the drawstring of his hoodie, the chill settling deep within him, unshakeable now, especially without George’s easy warmth by his side. He’s never been more grateful to see the steps leading up to the older’s apartment than he is at this moment.

And then he has to wait, much the same way he did Saturday, wait for George to see his text, call him back, answer his knock.

He waits, and he waits, and he waits.

The lock clicks, and the door creaks open. Sapnap swears his fingertips are turning blue.

“George,” he says immediately, just to have said something , and then the door is opening wider and Sapnap is rushing into the apartment, getting himself fully inside before George can reconsider.

In the sink, he spies empty Tupperware containers.

George stands next to the couch. Sapnap swallows.

“George,” he says again. “I missed you.”

“It was only a day, Sapnap,” George replies. His voice is quiet.

“You said I love you to me,” Sapnap says. George stays silent. Sapnap falters, continues: “I love you too, and I know I’m a lot, but George,” he comes closer—George lets him—he places a hand on George’s waist—George lets him, “I’ll… you once told me I can’t dial it down, or whatever, and this is me telling you that for you, I’d dial it down. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t, but I want to try. For you. You said you’d try for me. You need to know I’d do the same for you.”

George laughs, but it’s an empty, hollow sound, just air shoved past his lips. “I don’t think it’s as easy as that.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Sapnap asks. “You said it happened so fast. What happened so fast?”

George mutters something. Sapnap moves closer. George pushes him back. “Falling in love, dumbass. I was in love with you before I even realized it was love I was feeling.” He keeps his hand in front of him, a visible barrier between him and Sapnap. “Am feeling.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Sapnap asks. “What are you so afraid of?”

George doesn’t reply.

“It’s only as complicated as you let it be,” Sapnap says. “I’m—we’re—we’re in love with each other, George.” His voice is firm. George finally meets his eyes. Dark and inscrutable as ever. Sapnap is in love with him. “Isn’t that enough? Just for right now, tell me it isn’t enough.”

George moves, a mirror image of the him in Sapnap’s dorm on Tuesday months ago, bringing their lips together and kissing Sapnap with purpose. When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes sparkle. “I can’t. I can’t tell you it isn’t enough. But I won’t say it’s not either.”

“I love you,” Sapnap says, reflex. He presses a kiss to George’s lips, presses one to his cheeks, his chin, nose, forehead. “I love everything about you.”

“You too,” George says. “I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“You don’t need to know,” Sapnap replies. “Just love me. Be in love with me.”

George’s fingers twist in the fabric of his hoodie, pull him closer. Their noses touch and Sapnap feels every single one of George’s breaths on his lips. They’re heavy. So are his own. When George speaks, he may as well be putting the words directly into Sapnap’s mouth, the two of them working as one. “I love you,” he says, and so does Sapnap. “I love you and being with you and being in love with you.”

“It won’t be perfect,” Sapnap says. (So does George.)

“But it doesn’t need to be.” George seals their lips together. He’s right. Neither of them need it to be perfect. Nor, Sapnap thinks, as George wraps an arm around his neck, draws him closer, holds him tighter, do either of them want it to be.

[wri0thesley]

many many anons under the cut bc i didn’t want anyone to feel like i was ignoring them and i wanted to respond to u all! warning for small text too, it was so long i wanted to make it look smaller fgbnjkgkjn

Anonymous asked: NAT... you can write WHATEVER you want! It's your blog, and I hope that rude anons can learn to respect that. I used to be on your blog just for jjba content too, so when you started getting into jjk I was indifferent but eventually you dragged me into jjk so hard!! I already like bnha, so seeing you write for it only made me happier! I hope that you continue to write whatever make YOU happy:) ❤and yes, longer fics certainly doesnt mean it's better, quality over quantity

ahh i’m happy that you are here for all three!! i always feel so accomplished when someone is like ‘your constant screaming made me think about jjk <3′. all three of the fandoms are fairly popular and i tag everything v carefully so i hope people who do use the filtering find that useful!!! 

Anonymous asked: Goodness gracious. People really be out there thinking they're entitled to dictating what kind of content you should be making

i think part of it might be that i do take requests so people feel like they have like . . . a certain right to certain kinds of my content? i take requests mostly bc they keep me motivated, i like making content for ppl who cant find what they want bc i’ve Been There, but maybe people think i am a pushover? idk i am just trying to have a good time!!!

Anonymous asked: Hi. I only started following you a few days ago but please ignore that rude anon. People are so fucking entitled towards writers it's insane. I recently had someone throw a fit for "spoiling" something in my fanfic, even though the fic was about a manga-exclusive character, so what did they expect?? Overall I've really enjoyed your writing so random assholes coming to guilt you is just a shitty thing that happens. Keep going with what you wanna do.

ah gosh anon i’m sorry about that :(. i’m always super careful tagging spoilers and stuff but like, if someone clicks on a fic about say, naoya or the steel ball run boys and is mad that i spoil something they havent found out yet . . . yeah thats on them fgbnkjgfkjn

Anonymous asked: That...that anon had the nerve to say "we". The fuck?! No no no anon, YOU'RE the only one talking and you're just talking for yourself, don't you dare try and lump us other anons/followers up with you to make yourself look like you're right. We love you nat and we appreciate you. It's your blog, you're allowed to write about whoever and whatever. This brain dead anon just needs to either go read someone else if they're that salty or write their own stuff if they're that impatient.

gosh i WISH some of my mad anons would just write their own stuff honestly. idk if this anon thought they were talking for everybody but i guess they expected anons to agree with them and not be mad at them. i appreciate u anon ;_;

Anonymous asked: Just want to say that ily and you’re one of the best jojo fanfic writers in my opinion 💗 I don’t think you’re half assing jojo fics and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you being multi fandom. A lot of jojo blogs have started posting about jjk so it’s not as if you’re the only one. I’m not sure why you get hate like this but I think it’s just because you’re one of the popular writers and that makes people bitter for whatever reason. Keep being you and posting about the things that make you happy 💕

honestly after so long writing for jojo - i’ve written well over 200 jojo reader insert fics - sometimes it feels like i’m retreading stuff, and that’s when i take a break bc i dont wanna half-ass stuff!!! i love all of my fellow jojo friends who are posting about jjk too, i appreciate them <3. 

Anonymous asked: Hey my dude, ur writing has really grown since the jojo days and its better and awesome seeing u become happier to branch off and write in different fandoms 🤌🤌 those stupid anons are just boring farts that couldnt be bothered making their own content 😤😤 is it possible to block them to ease ur mind?

hello anon!! i run a statcounter for IPs but it doesnt always work for ppl who access through the tumblr app, i don’t think; a lot of the anon hate i get i just use the ‘block’ option, but last night got to me because i’ve been getting that kind of writer a lot which is . . . a bad look for the jojo fandom who are, as a whole from the ones i’ve interacted with, lovely!!! <3

Anonymous asked: People often forget, the person behind art or writing, is just another regular fan. You deserve to be happy with what you create and we should be thankful you share your talent with us. You also have right to change your main interests, and it's very normal thing. Jojo is one of the MANY things that you write for and all you get from that is a like or share. Its not your job. It's your fun thing to do, in spare time. You haven't betrayed anybody. That person was just rude, selfish and bored.

i am just a person doing my best!!! anime fanfic is one of many interests i have and i already devote a lot of time to it honestly, i love when people tell me they’ve enjoyed something i made bc it makes it feel worthwhile but equally it gets to me a lot when people are rude because i am usually trying my hardest. 

Anonymous asked: Bro that jjba anon... the entitlement🤮 Fam, you write whatever you want to write😤 -Saturday

dfnjbkjnkgf i find most fic readers are NOT entitled at all and are just grateful but when they are . . . oof. 

Anonymous asked: It's funny how people throw "we got you popular" and they think you start apologize and cry. Your writing and passion made you gain few numbers on a follow counter, nothing more. I think I'm too old for stuff like this, we are nothing more, but +1 on a number scale. You ow us nothing, we ow you nothing. Popular... Funny word. You just write for fun of it, fake scenarios about someone's manga characters. It's not that deep. Have fun and don't listen to people like this. I knew it's not that easy, but they are really not that important as they think they are.

extremely fun fact for people who think ‘popularity’ is important to me: i would 100% rather have 10 people who regularly comment, reblog my fics with tags and interact with me than 100 people who read my fic and either leave a like or simply move on. i think this is true for the VAST MAJORITY of writers tbh. i’m glad that people think i am a ‘popular’ blog (i am not in the grand scheme of things, one of my ex-best friends used to run a kpop reader insert blog with like 30,000 followers) bc it gives me an ego boost lmao, but i really just want people to read and enjoy the stuff i write!!! 

Anonymous asked: I followed you a while ago for jojo and when my friends started getting into jjk i was like...eh sounds like work...but now that I see you writing for it I feel really motivated to get into it!!! I really enjoy your writing and I want to be able to read the new stuff too!

ah anon i really hope you like it!!! it’s only one season rn if u wanna watch the anime and there isn’t too much of the manga to catch up on either but it is a lot of fun and it’s nice to be in a fandom that’s like, excited about a new chapter and new plot developments every week!

Anonymous asked: Pls dont reply if u dont want to! <3 I'm not sure if this will be of any help to you or not but this is the kind of thing that often helps me and is the only way I know to try comfort others so I wanted to give it a go~

Now im not gonna say 'dont feel bad pls' bc I know that's not really useful but what I do think is useful is just discussing why that anon and many others feel the need to respond that way. As someone who follows a lot of writing blogs myself and have done for a long time, i've seen my handful of favourite writers come and go for different reasons, lose motivation for a while, gain motivation for a while, go from multi to single fandom, or single fandom to multi. Often times as a reader it can be upsetting when things change but it's also important as a reader to understand that some things aren't in anyone's control, I can't control what my favourite writers become a fan of or lose interest of, I can't control things in their personal lives that may motivate or demotivate them to write, but what I can do is support them as long as they're active, and if they move on to do things i'm no longer interested in or i'm the one that changed interests, rather than being upset that they're evolving to do other things or that they're not evolving with me, I think it's important that I still feel thankful for the works that I enjoyed while we were still on the same page and this is how I personally deal with those negative feelings. I think the anons that lash out at you probably just dont know what to do with themselves, maybe they got attached to your works while you were still only a jjba blog and now that you're evolving they're upset, while I understand how they feel, they're going the completely wrong way about it. I've learned to take these things and turn them into something positive for myself or at least something bittersweet that I can move on from but the anons that lash out at you for whatever reason probably haven't learned this yet. Maybe it's because i've moved on and changed interests a lot myself that I know how these things go for both writers and readers but those anons maybe haven't experienced this as much so they dont know what to do with themselves other than complain that you've changed and throw insults at you in an attempt to get you to revert back. None of this is because of the quality of your writing like they want you to believe, it's literally just because you've evolved and while some of your old followers might not like the new content for no reason other than it not being their cup of tea, it's definitely not regressed at all. You are pumping out a lot of content right now but every single thing i've read has just been better than the last. Things that really stand out to me is how well you get characterisation down to a T and all of your dialogue is just on point and from the pov of a reader I think those things seem the hardest to get right so I am such a huge fan of your stuff at the moment and I can tell you're really putting so much thought and care into each and every fic no matter how fast you're producing it, I think the fact that you're also proud of what you're writing at the moment really shines through as well and I just adore the passion that radiates from every completed request as well as in the responses for the subsequent thirsts resulting from these works that appear in your ask box later (I know i've sent quite a few by now~)

Just to be clear i'm not defending those anons in any way, while I can understand what they might be feeling/why they're reacting in the way they are I still believe it's just so immature to be hateful online point blank. Even during a time where I still got upset with writers if they started doing something else I still never targeted that negativity directly to the writer and sending rude or hateful comments whether on anon or not never something i'd stooped low enough to do even when I still had an immature way of thinking, however, I hope that it might make it a little easier to brush them off if we try and understand what they're really upset about, and that they're just putting the blame for their negative feelings onto the wrong thing rather than coming to terms with change themselves.

hello anon!! i appreciate the long message. i do feel bad for people who have no interest in what i’m currently producing and i get that they feel upset about it; i’ve watched a lot of fellow jojo writers move on completely or just stop posting, honestly. this kind of thing is why i was so intense about asking people if it would be better if i made a separate blog but the resounding answer seemed to be ‘i’m just vibing with whatever happens and i’ll block tags as needed’. 

i often return to works by my favourite reader-insert writers who no longer write for the fandoms i like (and i read stuff bc it sounds interesting or i trust the person who writes it), but change can be difficult and i guess at this point i’ve - whether u like me or not lmao - been a fixture in jojo reader-insert tumblr for a While so it’s probably kind of jarring. 

anyway i really appreciate you and the nice words! <3 

Anonymous asked: hi nat! I just wanted to pop in and say that regardless of what fandom you write for, the love and care you pour into your writing and into interacting with followers who care about your work as well is really obvious. you're doing this for FREE and people should appreciate what you've given us so far, since ultimately this blog should be for you, whatever that means to you at any point in time. it's ok to jump fandoms! the important thing is that you feel good about what you're producing and that it makes you happy. everyone else is just a bonus - but, seeing you on my dash certainly makes me happy : ) I hope you feel better soon!

thank you anon! i’m feeling much better and happier today. birthdays are very difficult for me (i did not think i’d be alive at eighteen, much less 25!) so this event is definitely kind of a way for me to concentrate on something else, and i’m a little bit extra sensitive atm. i appreciate you so much, thank you for the kind words!!! <3

Anonymous asked: Hello! I just wanted to say, write what YOU want and make YOUR writings as long as you'd like. 💖 To the anon who is like "We mAdE yOu FaMoUs dOnt HalF asS iT" stfu, let people do what they wanna do. If you think they half do it, write something better and longer you asshat.

this is an open invitiation to that anon to send me a link to their writing blog and i’ll hype them up i promise <3 

Anonymous asked: nat i'm so so sorry about that ask please know that your older followers don't share the same opinion :( sometimes people forget about the living, breathing person behind the screen smh. you are not a machine. you absolutely should not restrict yourself to posting about one fandom forever. yes, we're first pulled in by your amazing content, but we stay for your wonderful personality and work ethic. please just keep being you, taking up projects you feel comfy with! <333 bless u

ahh thank u anon! unfortunately i actually am a writing robot, i’m sorry u had to find out this way. my jojo chip has been removed, please send it back so i can continue to not half-ass my jojo work. fgnjkbgjkfn thank you so much angel!!! i appreciate you ;_;.

Anonymous asked: i don’t think it’s fair for other people to say shit about what you choose to write about because on tumblr and other writing platforms, writers are constantly developing how they write and the fandoms that they write for. it’s not fair for someone to criticize that “you don’t care about jjba blah blah blah” because you can enjoy new shows/manga. and like you said you’ve grown so much!! proud of you nat and im glad that ive been able to read your works (sincerely other nat)

i am STILL waiting for you to come and fight me other nat fgnjkbnf. it’s nice to be enjoying different things! i am constantly learning new things and reading new works and making new friends and improving and i think that’s important. i do care about jjba - a lot! but i can care about other things too! <3 

Anonymous asked: I may not be one of your oldest followers, but i've been here for almost 3 years. Yes, i started following u for ur jojo content, but let me tell u, ur newfound motivation and enthusiam for other fandoms was honestly contagiuos for me. And i say this as a person who finds very difficult to move from one interest to another. Jojo is great, but so are other fandoms. Please don't let some faceless scum rob u that motivation. This is ur blog and u r always free to write whatever u want.

honestly, i have been there! i am autistic and i have special interests and watching other people move on to stuff i’m not vibing with has made me sad in the past, but i want people to be happy more than anything and sometimes that means new things and change! <3 

Anonymous asked: Hi Nat! I saw that rude anon message & I just wanted to pop in & say that they're wrong. You're not betraying anyone & you should write whatever it is you want to write. I followed you for jojo & I'm not familiar with the other fandoms that you write for, but personally it makes me SO happy to see you enjoying new things! It's always good to find joy wherever you can, so keep writing what you're interested in. There a lot of ppl who want to see you happy and healthy <3

honestly the idea of it being a GRAND BETRAYAL is so funny, i am just writing anime fanfic here and thriving!!! tysm anon! <3

Anonymous asked: Those anons can piss off! They have no right to judge how long or how short your writing is. If they want longer content write it their damn selves. I think your writing has improved wonderfully and I originally followed for Jojo and I'm enjoying all the content period. I don't even watch jujutsu ( not my cup of tea personally) but I love seeing the creativity and the interactions. You write what makes you happy Nat and that's on that! You don't owe anybody anything! I know how hard writing is and when your consuming new content it's hard to make content for something else. That doesn't mean you don't like it any more your just doing something different for a while. Love you and your content and I'm enjoying the love your putting into your content whether long or short. ♥♥💕 Sending love your way!

honestly my idea of ‘short content’ is still over 1k words, i’m not good at reeling myself in! i guess it’s bc they see like, 1.5k jojo fic versus 5k jjk fic but it’s not that i didn’t enjoy the first fic, just that the point and the story came a lot quicker and so did the natural end! thank you anon, i appreciate you ;_; 

Anonymous asked: Hello! Just wanted to let your know that I think your writing is awesome, and that you should write for whoever and for whatever you want to! You dont have to stay loyal to one fandom or anything, and your followers shouldn't expect that from you! It's not like they are paying you to write, you are doing this for free, and because you enjoy it and it makes you happy! If they dont like your stuff, they dont have to follow you, they can go to other blogs that cater to their taste, and they definitely don't need to be sending you such hurtful comments, and they dont get to make you feel sad about your writing! Just because they followed you during your earlier stages of writing, doesn't mean you owe them some type of loyalty or compensation! You can write literally whatever you want as long as it makes you happy! That's what your hobby and your blog are for! I hope you know that alot of your followers love your work and think that you are an amazing writer and are down to support the work that makes you happiest! 💖💖

ahh thank you so much anon!!! i am always so bowled over by how many people are nice to me when something like this happens, i am sending you my love <3

Anonymous asked: don’t listen to them!! we love you as a writer no matter what you write, because you’re a good person and a talented writer!! you shouldn’t have to change what you write to please a bitter person, and if they only want jjba, they can go to another blog instead of bringing you down. you’re doing amazing and they should be thankful you grace us with your talents!!

to be totally honest, if i was half-assing or not vibing with content i was making i just. wouldn’t post it. like you’d be able to TELL when i was half-assing stuff just to get words out (source: i have re-read my own nanowrimo works). there are lots of great jjba blogs who could do with more followers n interaction!!! i hope they do find them and i hope they’re nice to them :(. 

Anonymous asked: Please don’t pay attention to that anon. People only have that confidence when they have anon turned on. Them looking through your blog despite feeling that way is peak fan behavior and speaks to how addicting your writing is. Naturally, you can’t please everyone and there will be people who are irrational and feel entitled to tell you what to do or what to write no matter what. Trust me when I say they’re a small minority and are more likely probably passing viewers rather than regulars. I check your blog about three or more times a day because I love reading not just your fics but also your takes, banter with other anons, or even random updates. Brainrot posts? LOVE TO SEE IT!!! Desk update? AMAZING!!! With that being said, don’t feel pressured to continue pushing out content for others. Write what makes you happy! You’ve been writing for JJBA for 4 years and it’s completely normal + healthy to get into new media. I’m not sure if it would mean much, but your love for JJK has gotten me excited to start it too!!

anon i really hope you enjoy it!!! sometimes these anons remember stuff i’ve posted and said better than i do tbh, i am living in their heads rent free i guess! 

Anonymous asked: I've been following you for a couple of years and honestly it would always be a joy to see when you posted. Your writing has improved and I'm very happy you're enjoying yourself ! I know it hurts hearing and seeing stuff like that but I'm happy you're here. I'm honestly blessed everytime you post. Your writing is phenomenal. I love reading it even if its characters that I dont care for. You capture their essences so well and weave an amazing tale within the prompts and whatnot. You're amazing nat!

wehh thank you so much!!! re: the improvement, i really don’t feel like it has and then i re-read something i wrote when i first started and i’m like oh my god maybe it has. did i really write about jotaro acting like that. 

Anonymous asked: Hi Nat. I recently became a follower of yours and I'm really saddened to see you get hate. You seem like a genuinely sweet person with amazing talent! I'm a writer myself and, unfortunately, get the same kind of comments. And when you get those comments, it doesn't leave you feeling motivated. People need to understand that people can and will, at times, grow out of fandoms. (1 Not just that but you're doing all of this for free. Again, I'm sorry you got such a comment. But please know that I'm proud of how far you've come. I'm proud that you're living a life that makes you happy. And no matter what fandom you may find yourself in next, I will always enjoy your writing. Take care of yourself. (2 end

HELLO NEW FOLLOWER I LOVE YOU (i get a lot more a day now than i used to and i feel guilty about not being able to look through so many blogs but i do try and follow back other writers for my fandoms!! ;_;). i’m sorry you get the same kind of comments! i’m always just happy to see people i like enjoying new things, even if i have no interest in it (hello to all of my mutuals who write for hunter x hunter and haikyuu, not interested but i’m sure you’re having a great time and i support you!!!). 

Anonymous asked: I'm sure you're getting a barrage of supportive messages now (at least I hope so) but I figured I'd add my voice, because I'm a longtime follower. Your writing is, and always has been, wonderful. I've been so happy to see you and Haz get to a place that works for you both. Idk if it's obvious for everyone, but you seem like you're emotionally in a pretty good place most of the time these days, and it makes me really happy to see that. I followed years ago for JJBA content, but I stayed because regardless of what content you put out, I find your wit delightful. And I'll stick around even if you move fandoms entirely, because whatever content or editorializing you produce is going to be worth reading, regardless of what it's for.

ahh, anon!! thank you for sticking around so long, sorry if you’re old enough to have been around the vore and jorts and spider rohan fiascos! <3 i am definitely a lot more stable than i have been and - barring the Pandemic Related Mental Health Issues - happier! i’m glad that it’s noticeable! <3

Anonymous asked: It actually makes me mad how entitled some people are. Nat, you're not a content creating machine and those who expect you to be are not worth wasting a thought on. Your love for something is not measured in word counts and for you to write every day without getting burned out in the slightest you really must have a burning passion and huge dedication to your craft. If others decide to send hate then allow me to send admiration because I can feel your love and hard work in each post you make!

i try and write every day bc it’s super good for my little ocd/autistic brain to have routines and distract itself, so i’m glad other people can enjoy them because that makes me motivated to carry on! like, i write for myself mostly bc the content i want i sometimes get find, but filling requests and writing for other people also leaves me with happy warm fuzzies too! i appreciate you!! <3 

Anonymous asked: If people only care about your writing for the jojo porn that’s on THEM, not you. Your writing was amazing when I followed about a year ago, and it’s only gotten better and will continue to get better! I think it really comes through when you enjoy what you’re writing and it adds a whole other layer of worth to it, because not only are you making free content but you LIKE that content and we can all gush about it together!!! More than just fans, I think you’ve created a community here and we don’t just stick around to read smut, I promise you that. -Reronon

i do miss having a discord community bc it was nice to talk to everyone in real time but it was hard work, i am glad that people feel like they can just come into my askbox and gush! i’m not very friendly in real life and people tend to think i am cold and stuck up so i work very hard to try and seem friendly and approachable online, which is much easier for me because i get to think and re-draft before i type! <3 

Anonymous asked: Hi Nat! I’m sure you’re getting a lot of messages like this right now but I just wanted to say for what it’s worth that, as a person who originally followed you for jjba content and hasn’t watched/read any of the other series you’re currently writing for, I’m honestly still along for the ride. This is your blog and you’re allowed to do what you want with it and put out what content you feel like writing. Sometimes??? People acquire new interests??????? Shocking! I know absolutely nothing about jjk or bnha but out of curiosity still read some of your posts about them and even though I might not Get It, I still enjoy them because I think you’re a very talented writer! Honestly, as long as you’re still writing, I’m still down to clown, and whenever you take breaks (which are important!) I’ll still be waiting for your return or supporting and respecting your decision to stay away longer. Don’t let the entitled assholes get you down. Utilize YOUR blog and YOUR space however YOU choose. Your talent and kindness speak for themselves. Love you!!! ❤️❤️❤️

anon i care about you and i am so appreciative of you and everyone for sending me such nice messages! i am running out of ways to say it but it’s true, it really does mean a lot to me ;_; <3