#its also reassuring. Im glad they can have a goal like this.

[arolesbianism]

Ive been playing the longing and I was planning on staying in the caves and waiting it out even after realizing that escape might be an option but then I walked into the darkness for the first time and. Nevermind I'm getting the shade out no matter how many stupid puzzles that are super obvious but I'm not observant enough to figure out until I've spent far too long wandering through the kingdom with a mushroom trying to figure out where to plant it I'm forced to face

[seiwas]

nia omg this is the nicest thing im crying 🥺

WAAAAAH thank you so much for reading 🥺 this is such a long fic so i know it takes a lot of time and energy and just WAAAH i appreciate you!!!!!

you said so many lovely things about it too 🥺

writing this was so enjoyable for me and i especially loved writing all of the dynamics in the fic 🥺 shouto and reader are so very precious to me and i'm soooo glad you see it too 🥺🥺🥺 (and truly. shouto being just. A Boy. is one of my fave ways to characterise him)

one of my goals in writing this was to make it more than just a shouto fic, so hearing how much you enjoyed all the family scenes really makes me happy 🥺🥺 (the shouto-touya dynamic was especially entertaining to think of!! that stomp on the foot was something i just KNEW i had to include somehow jshdfbsd shouto is a little shit that way)

i so appreciate all the little details you noticed in the fic 🥺 like the way i really tried to drive home their significance in its each other's lives and how all the little unspoken moments between them speak so loud (the stares, the thumping, the acts of service---all of it!!)

writing shouto's dialogue was tricky bc there's such a characteristic bluntness to how he speaks that is simultaneously innocent and a little bit smartass---trying to find that balance was challenging but i think adds meaning to how he phrases the simplest things. SO I'M SOOOO GLAD THAT YOU LIKED ALL OF HIS SHORT LINES TOO 🥺🥺 i felt like it was a bit lacking sometimes but then had to reassure myself that idt he's a man of many words either 🥺

im also so happy that you felt that easy comfort they have with one another!! i think it's so important to understanding their dynamic and it's so reassuring that i was able to convey it 🥺

YOU GET ITTT with that 'i like you' line omg. i was struggling to find what words to use for his confession and settled on saying it as it is because i dont think theres really any other way he can think of saying it jsbdfajs and the balance between his typical demeanor and how he has all these feelings for you he just doesnt know how to put into words AAAHbdfvahgsdn its so precious to me

it was SUCH a joy experiencing you read this nia 🥺 thank you thank you thank you again 🥺 for all the support and all the lovely things you shared about this fic 🥺🥺🥺 it means the world !!!

three-part honesty | todoroki shouto

wc: 16.3k

summary: honesty, you've realized, is shouto’s most cunning trait—a quality that's endeared you over the years now rendering you into a stuttering, fumbling mess like never before. 

contains: intended as f!reader but no pronouns used, reader wears heels, a skirt, & a dress, post-canon (divergent), aged-up pro-hero!shouto and assistant!reader, workplace romance, development of feelings, confessions, boss/assistant dynamics, co-workers to lovers (ish), todoroki family dynamics and healing, fluff, slow burn.  

sequel to: two-part something ao3 mirror

a/n: primarily from shouto’s perspective but switching of character pov’s is denoted by ‘( )’. i enjoyed the entire process of writing this fic and hope you do too! 

sponsored by @arcvenes for the @ficsforgaza initiative, and my submission for the pretty boy summer collab by @andypantsx3.

I. LISTEN CLOSELY

Much to his relief, Shouto’s yearly health check-up turns out just fine. 

His blood work results come back stellar, levels all floating within normal range; some x-rays and scans reveal injuries healing up nicely—that collarbone he’d fractured months ago, especially. Save for a few recommendations on better sleep and stress management, Shouto receives no additional diagnoses for anything particularly concerning. 

Except for this one thing—

“Maybe you have a crush.” Natsuo sinks into the backrest of his chair. A slight ‘squeak’ sounds from its springs as he props one foot up on his knee and clasps his hands over his stomach. 

Shouto thinks it must be some doctor pose; Natsuo’s been doing it more often now that he’s gotten deeper into his medical practice. 

In Shouto’s final year at UA, Natsuo made the decision to fully shift into Pre-Med. The aftermath of the war left a big portion of Musutafu lost and in dire need of a society to believe in. To Natsuo, this felt like a calling; an effort of playing his part to restore faith in a better, functioning system that did not discriminate. Internal medicine felt expansive in that way.

This, of course, also meant that Natsuo was now the (unofficial) assigned private and personal doctor of the Todoroki family—to Shouto, mostly. 

So—

A… Crush?

“How does that happen?” Shouto turns to his brother, head tilted in confusion. His brows furrow slightly. 

This isn’t what he was expecting at all. 

“I mean, you said it in your text,” Natsuo reaches for his phone, clicking it open to scroll. The light from his screen reflects on the gray of his irises; then, he air quotes, “you said: ‘my chest feels weird’, then when I asked if anything happened,” his index finger glides across the screen, swiping through a long block of text uncharacteristic of Shouto’s typical dry responses.

“You detailed the entire scene of–” he pauses for a moment, squinting to find a specific line, “–a santa hat? Being put on you, or something. You didn’t mention who but I figured it was—” 

You, Shouto thinks, at the moment Natsuo says your name. That same two-part thump sounds in his ears. 

You, who’s stayed by his side for the past five, nearly six years. You’ve carved your presence so deeply into his life, it’s become an undercurrent in his speech. He doesn’t even think of having to say your name when he talks about you. 

You, and how he turns over this familiarity with you inside his brain. How everyone knows—

“—who else stays with you in the agency past office hours, anyway?” 

Natsuo raises an eyebrow, knowing. 

“We’ve been working together for a while.” Shouto replies, lips pressed firmly into a small pout. 

If he’s being honest, he’s not sure what compelled him to say something Natsuo already knows. To state the obvious? Or to argue, maybe? To act in denial? To express disbelief? 

He takes a long breath, surveying Natsuo’s clinic. The walls are pristine white, the desk and examination bed the same shade of ashen gray—a conscious choice to keep patients calm; ironic, given the state of his thoughts right now. 

Shouto’s mind is buzzing, and Natsuo watches the muddled confusion in his little brother’s eyes shift and swirl in blue-gray emotion. Then he chuckles, holding onto his arm rests as he stands up from the other side of his desk. 

“It can happen, Shouto.” he plants a palm on his little brother’s head, ruffling red and white the way he would have when they were teens, “It’s been years, right? Feelings can develop over time, that sorta thing, you know?” 

Shouto lets the realization settle in. 

Under the weight of his brother’s hand, he feels like a kid again—right before all the training started; and right before being kept away, excluded from the childhood he could have had with his siblings. 

Shouto feels like a teen again, without the trauma, without the war, being taught things about life and himself, about feelings he never had the time nor capacity to explore.

The two-part thump continues, beating. 

A crush. On you. Huh. 

The rustling of his hair dusts strands of warm, fuzzy feelings over his eyelids. 

This feels… new, he thinks. 

.

.

.

Shouto knows his Mondays. 

He gets to Shouto Agency an hour before everyone else does because he likes the stillness of it right before the day turns busy. The sun is up but only barely, casting a soft glow of blue and orange hues through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. 

This habit began years ago, back when the agency functioned on the 7th floor of a commercial building. It was called Flashfreeze then, and even though it had an entire floor of 24 office units, being in a commercial building still meant sharing common areas with other companies and agencies. The morning rush left the elevators flooded in utter chaos daily. 

To Shouto, going in early meant less people and less noise—a quiet bube he could use to prepare himself for the rest of the day.  

A lot has changed since then: the agency’s move into a larger, newly constructed building of its own; staff, interns, and sidekicks quadrupling in numbers; better office spaces, bigger teams, more facilities—a big expansion, essentially. 

Somehow, despite being more settled in the industry, he finds that the days feel even busier than before. 

So, Shouto keeps his Mondays the same: his preference of coming in early carrying itself into this newer, much larger and private office space, and his same habit of brewing himself a cup of tea finding its own spot by the small kitchen nook you helped design during the construction of his office space. 

Everything about his office is optimized for efficiency: the backdoor, where he enters from on most days, opens to an elevator with a matching staircase that both lead straight down to the costume unit, training grounds, and his own parking area; the blinds of his windows automatically draw up and down at set times of the day; and the minimalism of his entire space is carefully considered, with every area plotted for easy navigation. 

It’s sleek and neat, sharp edges and clean lines, straightforward much like he is. Cold, for the most part, save for the corners touched by your warmth.

Pale yellow jars sit on the counter of his kitchen nook, with each one housing sugar, cinnamon, and his stash of tea.  

When he looks more closely around the room, he spots the fresh flowers on his desk—a vase of luscious white chrysanthemums starkly contrasting the dark grays and browns of his interiors; they tell him you must be in already, because even when he manages to come in an hour ahead, you always, without fail, beat him to it 30 minutes too early. 

And also, like always, you enter his office in the same way you do every Monday morning. 

Your heels clack against his stone flooring, marking your arrival. He turns to face you from the kitchen nook, cup of tea in hand as he greets you. 

“Good morning.” 

You jolt, nearly tripping. Your head whips up quickly as you clutch a mass of folders tightly to your chest. 

He takes a sip of his tea, the corners of his lips curling slightly on the edge of his cup. 

“Si–” you clear your throat, correcting yourself as you take a breath. Then you smile warmly, bowing your head slightly, “Shouto, good morning.” 

“You scared me a bit there,” you add with a soft chuckle. 

It’s endearing, he thinks, seeing you caught off guard, so out of your usual composure.

You loosen your grip on the folders, “I just came to place this on your desk,” your finger taps against the plastic, “I didn’t notice you were here already, sorry.” 

“No worries,” he sets down his tea cup, pocketing one hand in his sweatpants, “do you want some tea?” 

“I’m good, thank you,” you shake your head, walking towards his desk to set the folders down, “Just a couple of debriefs for the case last month.” 

He nods, eyes tracking your movement around the room. You pause then turn to him, clicking your pen as you say, “Let me get your schedule so we can do the run-down.” 

Shouto moves to his desk when you leave, settling into the few squeaks and cracks of the leather chair you helped restore using your quirk—the ability to minimally reconstruct organic matter. 

Not even a few minutes pass until you return, a tablet perched on the crook of your elbow with a digital pen in hand. 

This is part of his Monday routine. 

The agenda you follow is the same: a schedule run-down for the coming week, any notable trips or events, report updates, and department updates. Occasionally, PR will have you relay messages they have trouble communicating nicely—most of the time, they involve suggestions for him to ‘smile more’ or ‘answer questions more enthusiastically’. 

You have no problem telling him these things straight up, and he has no issue hearing it directly from you, either. 

For this week, you detail a few meetings scheduled for tomorrow and Wednesday, along with updates on his costume revisions, to be fitted on Wednesday afternoon, and—

“Deku requested a joint patrol on Thursday morning, so I moved your fitting for the gala to that evening instead. Is that okay with you?” you look up from your tablet, the tip of your pen hovering over the screen. 

In this light, you’re bathed in the colors of sunrise. 

(From where you’re standing, Shouto is backlit by the rising sun. His figure is washed over by a faded shadow, but you can see his eyes clearly, bright turquoise and dark gray staring right at you.

You hold your breath; you are well aware of Shouto’s tendencies to stare, but he’s taking much longer to answer you this time. And you don’t know what to do, where to look. Do you wait until—)

Shouto nods, catching himself lingering. 

You mumble an ‘okay’ before tapping on your tablet. 

The rest of your reminders are about upcoming events and deadlines: there’s the company team building happening in a few weeks, and a few reports due today and tomorrow. Fuyumi moved the family lunch to Saturday to make way for his photoshoot on Sunday. 

He watches you from his desk as you speak, your foot tapping in conjunction with each item you relay to him, as if marking every point. It’s a thing you do, something he’s noticed in the years you’ve worked together. 

Shouto knows his Mondays, and he’s always been relaxed during these earlier parts of it. 

But ever since that check-up with Natsuo, he’s been more… conscious about it lately. It seems to be a consistent trend that every time he’s around you, he feels a significant uptick in his heartbeat. 

Except now, when you speak—

“Will you be bringing a plus-one to the gala this year? The committee is confirming how many seats they’ll reserve for you.” 

—his heart feels like it drops, plummeting straight to his stomach. 

He looks at you intently, a slight crease forming between his brows. 

You go to most of these things with him; you always have, ever since. 

So, why are you even asking? 

He thinks about it, deciding what to say next. The thought of you not going with him feels weird. Unusual. 

If you’re unavailable, he supposes he can just go alone. 

But—

“What should I do then?” Shouto shifts in his seat, peering up at his brother. 

Natsuo’s instinctive reaction is to laugh; after all, it’s not often that you see pro-hero Shouto at a loss on troubleshooting. But when he spots pure and genuine uncertainty swirling in heterochromatic gray and blue, he sees his little brother—Shouto at ages 4, 8, and 12, still a little helpless on what to do.

“Do you want to do something about it?” Natsuo asks gently, squeezing Shouto’s shoulders. 

Shouto doesn’t say anything. 

The lack of response tells him all he needs to know. 

“Maybe figure that out first, then just be honest about it when the time comes. Nothing beats saying it plain and simple.” 

—‘just be honest about it’ echoes in his head, Natsuo’s voice morphing into his own.

“Will you not be available?” he manages to ask flatly, masking his worry. 

(You look up from your tablet and his eyes meet yours, an intensity in his gaze that’s only been directed at you a handful of times before.) 

“Oh,” you fluster a little, shifting your weight, “I will be, but I just thought…”

He can hear you hesitate, voice trailing off as if contemplating your next words. His head dips to coax you to go on. 

“...I just thought, maybe you’d want to bring someone from your family?” you give a small smile, half-genuine, half-uncertain. 

You know Shouto’s family; know their stories and know what each of them are like, individually. 

You know how far they’ve come into healing, seeing Touya through multiple cycles of rehab and relapse. You’ve witnessed his mother’s strength first-hand, watching her rebuild their family with the help of Fuyumi. On the weekends when work wouldn’t let up for Shouto, she’d welcome you to join in family lunches too. 

There were days during Natsuo’s medical internship when he’d go to the office at midnight because the hospital was nearby. It was the only free time he and Shouto had at the time, but Natsuo would ask you to join in, the three of you slurping on cup noodles while Natsuo prattled on about the absurdity of some of his coworkers. 

So, Shouto can fully understand your intentions. After all, he thinks you’ve been instrumental to his family’s healing, too. 

But he has his reasons for never bringing Fuyumi—she usually has school the next day, if not volunteer work at an orphanage. Natsuo has gotten increasingly busier with his practice, and Touya—Touya is still in rehab, and though he’s allowed at home three times a week, Shouto’s sure he’d rather spend it doing things other than being in a room full of pro-heroes. 

“It might be nice to bring your mom,” you add on.

And as for that—

“The gala is this Friday?” he leans forward, the tips of his bangs brushing his eyelids. 

You nod.

“She and Touya are going to the gardens,” he recalls, his mother casually mentioning it the last time he visited. 

You look pleasantly surprised, “Oh,” then your small smile returns, “that’s good to hear.” 

(It must mean a lot to Rei, you think. She’s always wanted to make up for lost time.) 

You don’t say anything else, silence filling the conversation as you hold his gaze.

It isn’t uncommon for Shouto to hold stare-offs, with you especially, but this might just be the first time he feels fully conscious about it—wondering what you’re thinking; if you can read his mind and tell what he’s thinking. 

“Do you not want to join me?” he asks, a small pout forming on his face. 

(The softness of his cheeks sink just a little bit, and his eyes lose some of the luster they typically carry in the morning. 

He looks so sad, you wish you just said yes in the first place. 

How do you even respond to this?) 

“No, n-no–” you stutter, inching forward subconsciously, “–it’s nothing like that.” 

You check your tablet, swiping through your calendar. He can see portions of it from where he’s sitting, your Friday definitely freed up and empty. 

He pushes himself up, standing to full-height. His hands dig into the pockets of his sweatpants as he tilts his head to the side. 

“What seems to be the problem then?” 

(In your years of knowing Shouto, you’ve learned that he never intends to sound harsh even though his words may seem like it. But even though you’re aware that he only means to be curious, you still feel a little embarrassed admitting that you didn’t anticipate the possibility of going to the gala with him this Friday. 

You’ve always been prepared; it’s in your job description to be like this. You should have had a back-up dress just in case. You shouldn’t have shown Shouto your hesitation in the first place.

So, you breathe out, voice level and calm. This is your problem to fix, you don’t have to let him know about it. You’ll find a way, like you always do.) 

“There’s no problem. I’ll add my name to the list then.”

Then you smile, but it’s just a touch uneasy, and if there’s one thing you underestimate about Shouto—for just as much as you know him, he’s gotten to know you pretty well too. 

He pauses. The last thing he would want is for you to feel forced to go.

“If you have other plans, I hope you don’t feel obligated to go. I can go alone.”

His brows furrow, crease deepening and heart still sinking. 

(And you can see it, that little pout on his face staying right where it is. 

You’re endeared, touched by his consideration.

“I don’t have other plans,” you grin, brighter and more at ease, “and I don’t feel forced to go either,” you sigh, hiding a small chuckle. 

A pause. 

You mull it over before deciding to admit why you were hesitant in the first place, “I thought you were going to bring your mom, so I wasn’t able to prepare a dress.”)

Shouto’s eyes widen slightly, mouth opening to express his apologies. 

“But–!” you interrupt, “That’s my fault,” you raise your hand, swaying it side-to-side. “So please don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.” 

The smile on your face is meant to reassure him, he knows, but he still feels guilty. 

This Friday’s gala is the Annual Midyear Pro-Hero Awards; it’s grand because it’s important, and the dress code is always black-tie—everything typically made custom. 

He tilts his head slightly, thinking, eyes zeroing in on the small calendar propped up on his desk.

“My suit is being made by Bakugo’s parents, correct?” 

You nod, reiterating, “Your final fitting is on Thursday night.”

His gaze flits to you once again. 

(There’s that look in his eyes you’ve become all too familiar with—a glint of mischief accompanying a sort-of ‘Eureka!’ moment that means he’s thought of something.

The pieces click together, realization dawning upon you, but when you open your mouth to refuse—)

“I can ask them to do yours as well.” Shouto beats you to it. 

It wouldn’t be fair for you to scramble for your outfit last minute simply because he assumed you knew you were going. You shouldn’t be more stressed than you already are. 

“Si– Shouto,” you say firmly, “That’s too much.” 

“I’m sure they won’t mind,” he flashes you a small smile. 

(And you hate to admit it, but he’s right.

The Bakugo’s have known you for as long as you’ve been Shouto’s assistant. They’ve consistently designed his suits for big events like the Pro-Hero Awards, and Mitsuki has always extended their services to you too, knowing full well that you are Shouto’s plus-one most of the time. 

She likes to chat with you during suit pick-ups, with Masaru serving you a cup of tea as you wait for minor tweaks and adjustments to Shouto’s outfits. 

“It would be too last minute,” you resist, feeling bad for the hassle this would impose on them.

“Then I can call them later today.” Shouto reaches for his phone, eagerly typing what you assume is a reminder to call Mitsuki some time later, just as he said he would. 

“You–” your voice hesitates, “you don’t have to do that. I can contact their secretary–”

This is part of your job, after all. 

“It will be much faster if I call them directly.” 

And while he does have a point, you still feel bad, inching closer towards his desk, “It’s okay, you shouldn’t have to concern yourself with this–” 

He gives you a look. 

You stop moving. 

Shouto is stubborn, this much you know. When he looks like this, you’re well aware that there’s no point dissuading him from doing something he’s already set his mind to.)

“It’s only right given that I told you last minute.” 

He tells this to you sincerely; it really is the least he can do. 

Besides—

“…be honest…” the words replay in his head.

—he swallows his truth; lets it sink deep into stomach along with that two-part thump in his chest. 

“I only feel comfortable going to these with you, anyway.” 

(Your mind blanks, coming up with nothing else to say but ‘okay’.) 

.

.

.

Cameras flash as Shouto steps down from his van. 

The building ahead of him is colossal, tall pillars and perfect arches made of raw stone and marble—it feels both ancient and otherworldly, fitting to represent Musutafu in this new age. Ahead of him, the staircase stretches on, steps spanning the width of half a block. Down its center cascades a luscious carpet, thick velvet that further lends to the grandeur of the event. 

Standing at the foot of the staircase, Shouto takes a moment to unbutton his suit jacket, revealing his perfectly fitted waistcoat underneath. 

(You know he isn’t doing it on purpose; it’s hardly ever Shouto’s intention to make people swoon, but you’re positive that that one move alone can make anyone melt on sight—you included.) 

Tonight is the Annual Midyear Pro-Hero Awards, a prestigious event where hero rankings, major announcements, and charity biddings take place. 

(It’s not anything new to the both of you, but Shouto skipped out on the past two, and it’s been years since you joined him on the last one he went to. Being here again after so long makes you feel a little out of practice.

After he scales the flight of stairs ahead, Shouto turns back to you, offering his arm for support as you step down from the vehicle. You hesitate, partly because you don’t know whether it’s acceptable behavior for you to take it, and also because you don’t remember if this was something you did the last time you went to one of these with him.

You can’t think straight—not when he looks as seraphic as he does, face half-illuminated by the lights behind him with the shadows hugging the softness of his cheeks. 

Shouto is beautiful, a fact you’ve known long before you ever even started working with him; but you’re reminded of that fact in moments like this, especially. 

“The steps are tall,” he tells you, shaking you out of your thoughts as you glance back at the staircase behind him. You try not to stare, but the strands that frame his forehead shift from his sudden movement; it scatters into a perfect mess—characteristic of how anything out of place always seems to look on him.

You take his offer.)

His forearm is firm against your palm, the thick fabric of his suit jacket providing cushion for your touch. When he bends it towards his chest, your fingers slip towards the crook of his elbow. 

Scarlet red contrasts the building’s stone white structures, the carpet providing a center stage for all heroes and public figures to parade their outfits. If not for the photographers yelling, “Shouto, right!” and “Shouto, left!”, he would have gone straight inside, barely pausing on the landings between each flight of stairs. 

You stand to the side when he takes them, just as you always do. But between each flash that goes off, Shouto thinks about whether you should join him too; after all, Mitsuki did intend for the dark navy of your dress to match the stone gray of his three-piece suit. 

When you finally arrive at the lobby of the city hall, the two of you are welcomed into a receiving area adorned with crystal chandeliers. The lights bounce off the sharp white edges of the building’s neoclassical interiors, the carpet’s scarlet red returning as a recurring motif in the form of drapes cascading from the high ceilings and down the sides of the room.

By this time, Shouto’s relaxed a bit more, his hand slipping loosely into his front pocket. 

(You don’t realize you’re still holding onto him until you’re midway across the floor.) 

“Hey, you guys!” Kirishima waves over, squeezing himself within a narrow space between the backs of who look like one of the executives of the hero commission and last year’s awarded peace ambassador. 

(You don’t know how he could have possibly fit, the width of him wider than any pro-hero you know, but you chuckle at his timid mumbles of “sorry, excuse me, just passing through.” It reminds you of how he typically approaches you when he asks for favors regarding joint patrols and assignments with Shouto.

He greets you both with his trademark hug, a bone-crushing grip that leaves you a little winded.) 

“I didn’t know the two of you were coming!” 

“It was a last minute decision,” Shouto smiles, small and fond. 

(You look at Shouto intently from beside Kirishima, as if processing what he means. And when his eyes meet yours, you feel caught, shy, averting your gaze quickly.)

Kirishima clears his throat, no doubt noticing the interaction but choosing to focus on something else instead—Shouto’s outfit, a dark navy tie tucked underneath a fitted gray waistcoat; the white collar of his button down peeking through the all stone-gray ensemble. His hair is styled down, bangs curled inwards to form commas that frame his forehead.  

“Looking good, man.” the red head deflects, joining his index finger and thumb to form an ‘O-K’ sign as he nods at Shouto. Then he turns to you, the same genuine smile on his face as he says, “That color really suits you.” 

You smile sheepishly, mumbling, “Thanks.” 

(Kirishima is a sweetheart; you can never doubt that his intentions are pure. But the attention makes you feel a little self-conscious, even more now that—) 

Shouto looks at you then, again, too.

It’s the only time he’s managed to get a real good look at you if he’s being honest; from the incident in the car to the flashing lights up the staircase, there haven’t been many opportunities to fully see what you’re wearing. 

And—

KIrishima’s right. 

The color really does suit you, but so does the design of your dress—a simple cowl neck joining into halter straps; it dips low at the back, this detail of it, he knows. He’s been careful not to touch you there the entire time so far. It doesn’t help that your hair is tied into a low bun, accentuating the vacant space with how the dress hugs you beautifully in all the right places. 

The dark navy satin was a good choice, the perfect vessel for catching ripples of light. 

It’s simple but classic; understated, just like the accessories you’ve chosen are. And it brings out the one thing he thinks carries this look the most—

You. 

He tries to form the words in his head, urging himself to speak up—he wants to give you a compliment of his own. 

But—

“Bakubro!” Kirishima waves overhead, much like he did earlier. 

—maybe he can try again next time. 

You and Kirishima don’t stay long after Bakugo arrives, Ashido coming in to whisk you and the redhead away to the main room. She loops her arm around yours and pulls you towards her, prompting you to give one last glance at Shouto as an expression of your apologies. 

The corner of his lips curl only the slightest bit. 

Bakugo watches. 

“Don’t forget the drinks, Blasty!” Ashido calls over her shoulder, green silk flowing behind her. 

He tuts, grumbling as he heads towards the reception bar, leaving Shouto in the middle of the receiving area, unsure of where to follow. 

“Y’coming or what?” 

Shouto lingers for a few seconds, watching your back disappear into the hall before he decides to walk after Bakugo.  

The lobby begins to quiet down as people flood into the main event area, a large hall adorned with the same scarlet red drapes and crystal chandeliers. The table arrangements have been pre-selected and arranged, you and the others most likely finding your seats inside. 

“Old hag told me you’re dating.” 

Bakugo speaks, his back still turned to Shouto. 

The bar in front of them offers a generous selection of drinks, all ranging from different wines to cocktails and liquor shots. It isn’t a surprise that Bakugo knows all of his friends’ chosen drinks, down to each specificity—it’s how he shows that he cares. Shouto’s come to learn that over the years. 

Their friendship has settled into its own dynamic as Bakugo’s mellowed down. Shouto will ask a question here and there, and Bakugo will look at him like he’s the dumbest fuck on the planet, but still answer anyway. 

It works, as evidenced by right now. 

Shouto stops right beside Bakugo, leaning against the countertop as he hums, confused, “Who?” 

Bakugo sighs, sliding Shouto his gin and tonic, “Mom.” Then he rolls his eyes, gesturing towards the door of the main room, “She told me you two are finally dating.”

Shouto pauses mid-sip. 

When he recalls the conversation he had with Mitsuki, it went a lot more like:

“Can a dress be made for my assistant as well?” he speaks into the line, “I will be bringing them to the gala.” 

He doesn’t think he insinuated anything. 

But now that he replays it in his head, it’s no wonder Mitsuki’s enthusiastic reply sounded so eager. 

Bakugo snorts, smirking as if his suspicion was just proven right, “Knew that lady was hearin’ shit.” 

The bartender serves up another drink, Ashido’s raspberry daiquiri being placed right in front of the blond before he moves on to mix another one. Clacking ice fills in the silence, the drink coming together inside the shaker. 

Shouto stares at his drink and watches as little bubbles form on the slice of lime submerged in it. 

“Are you at least thinkin’ about it?” the blond faces Shouto, leaning his forearm against the counter. 

Shouto furrows his brows, a single thought running through his mind.

“How did you know?” 

Bakugo stares, deep vermillion as he speaks, deadpan, “You can’t be serious.” 

Shouto stares right back. 

Another drink is served, Kaminari’s mixed drink of vodka, lime, and lemonade.

The stare-off persists for a few seconds, a series of blinks emphasizing Shouto’s cluelessness to the whole ordeal. Because—why does it feel like everyone knows? Did he mention it without knowing? Or is it really just that obvious?

Bakugo sighs, mentally facepalming as he turns back to watch the bartender shake another drink, “Whatever. S’none of my business.” He leans onto the counter, elbows resting on the steeltop. 

Shouto isn’t sure what else to say. He knows that Bakugo is observant, that his friend has always had a keen sense of awareness for the things going on around him; it just never crossed his mind that that would include his interactions with you.

The blond slides over Ashido’s drink, prompting Shouto to hold the flute of the glass between his fingers, “Just don’t be a fuckin’ dumbass about it. Gotta be dense as hell if you think the way you’re treated is part of the job description.”

The bartender serves up the final drink: Sero’s whiskey on the rocks. Bakugo takes it along with Kaminari’s and starts walking back to the main room, Shouto following right behind him. 

He thinks about it. 

A thump. 

Because right before they both enter the hall, Shouto spots you, further back at the right side of the room as you laugh at something Yaoyorozu must have said. 

He blinks, wondering if the soft glow around you is from the haziness of his eyes. 

“If y’don’t do shit first, some other loser will,” Bakugo mumbles, just within ear-shot before he walks ahead to where Kirishima and the others are seated. 

Shouto makes a mental note to drop off Ashido’s drink before heading over to you. 

.

.

.

You and Shouto leave the gala early.

A message from the police station came in the middle of the event: a request to bump up a few reports for submission tomorrow.

You’d mentioned to Shouto that he could stay, especially since he’d be needed to accept awards that you were sure he’d be the recipient of—among them being one of the top performing agencies of the year, a big chunk of it based on the high turnover rate of timely reports. But he insisted that someone else could represent him instead; he’s certain Midoriya wouldn’t mind. 

If you were going back to the agency to work, so was he. 

The night shift at the agency is minimally staffed, with most sidekicks and pro-heroes out on patrol. Regular employees have clocked out by this time, and it seems that the only ones left in the building are the emergency unit and the two of you. 

You’ve split the work between you two: Shouto tasked to fill in the second pages, where the scene-by-scene breakdown and additional comments can be found, and you, in charge of summarizing those details along with all basic information onto the first pages. 

It feels nostalgic, watching you flip through the papers laid out on the coffee table of his lounging area at a quarter past midnight. Back then, he had just hired you, and the only other employees in the agency were his gear tech and PR manager. There was no way the volume of workload could be managed without spending late nights organizing investigations and reports on the floor of that rented studio unit. 

Now, you sit by the coffee table in his lounging area, one you helped decorate. The books atop it have been pushed to the side to give you ample workspace, but even those remind him of how much consideration you’ve put into helping him build his space. 

Bakugo’s words linger when he thinks about it—how the books you’ve chosen remind him of his family. There’s one on the language of flowers that his mother would love, and a cookbook that he’s sure Fuyumi’s used (some corners are folded, with her handwriting scrawled on every other page). On another stack lie a few comic books he remembers Touya and Natsuo reading when they were younger (that he’s pretty sure he’s seen them flip through during their visits to his office over the years).  

And along with all the books sits a family photo taken years ago, framed and taken by you during one of their annual trips to their family beach house a few hours away from the city. 

It begins to sink in. 

A thump.

He folds the sleeves of his button down to his elbows, his gray suit jacket long since draped over the back of his leather chair. You’ve changed out of your heels too, opting instead for the soft slippers you keep under your desk. 

It’s cute, he thinks, the formality of your entire get-up toned down by a pair of fluffy yellow slippers. 

When he glances at you again, he finds you hunched over yourself on the sofa of his lounging area, an arm wrapped around yourself as if to contain whatever warmth you have left. 

He furrows his brows. 

“Are you cold?” his voice booms through the stillness of his office, jostling you out of focus. You whip your head up to look at him, shaking it immediately as if on autopilot. 

(He pouts, then, a small downturn of his lips that you find adorable, more than anything.) 

“I’m okay,” you smile, but he can see the slight twitching of your lip; the goosebumps dotting down your trembling arms. 

You always seem to be doing things like this with him. 

He pushes himself away from his desk, the wheels of his chair rolling against the stone floor. 

You never express your discomfort in any situation you’re put in, and you diligently work and endure all conditions to get the job done. He always extends his help, but you often decline, and—

“You have to be dense as hell if you think the way you’re treated is part of the job description.”

—Shouto is beginning to realize that the way you treat him really is so much more than that. 

You’ve laid the groundwork of the operations in his agency and you always smooth talk your way to getting him out of schedules he mistakenly forgets to show up to (typically with good reason, though). You cover all the areas he misses—this entire building would not be how it looks and functions without your help overseeing its construction. 

You’re organized and driven, eager and compassionate, and you care, above all else. 

The flowers you leave on his desk are never needed, but you always insist on them to keep his space alive. You fix all his clumsy papercuts, even though he never asks you to; he’s dealt with much, much worse, yet it’s only a split-second after you spot it that the tingling of your quirk works its way to mend his split skin. 

It’s just like what happened in the car earlier tonight, a few minutes away from reaching the city hall. Shouto had accidentally cut himself with the invitation to the gala, and though he insisted that it was okay, it was right on his eyelid—a miracle it even missed his eyeball in the first place, you’d commented. 

You managed to convince him then, saying, “It’s going to sting every time you blink.” —which was true; it did sting every time he blinked. 

That care extends to the people in his life too. His mom loves to go to the weekend market with you, and Fuyumi can always count on you to help her cook when she needs an extra hand. You keep up with Natsuo’s jokes and Touya talks to you, long enough conversations that allow him to be himself. 

You care, and you insist upon your care especially when you know he needs it but would never ask for it. 

It’s only fair, then, that it’s time he does the same for you. 

He removes the suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, the movement drawing your attention. 

(Your eyes widen as he approaches you. You feel shy, a little flustered as you raise your hands up to reassure him that you don’t need it.) 

“Your arms are shivering.” he points out, holding up the thick fabric. 

You crane your neck up to look at him, just a few steps away from reach. 

(You can’t deny the facts.)

From above, he only sees skin—the plunging dip of your exposed back, the small hairs standing along your arms. He tries his best to look into your eyes only, but—

“At least let me place this over you.” 

(And you know you can’t deny Shouto, either.) 

—when you concede and let him, he steps closer and bends just a little bit, his full height too tall to be able to place it on you properly. His arms circle around you, carefully resting the thick wool around your neck and onto your shoulders. 

He bends lower to adjust the sleeves, making sure that your arms are fully covered. You’re so still, and so close, the tips of his ears nearly touching the highest points of your cheeks. 

(It’s just like the gala—)

It’s just like the car—

(—with Shouto helping you navigate through the crowd of people exiting the event as early as you both did. His presence was a steady heat against your back, near and warm but barely touching.)

—with your face almost nose-to-nose with his; apart from the gentle touch of your fingertip against his eyelid, Shouto can only remember feeling that, along with the traitorous thump of his heartbeat. 

It’s a good thing that he had his eyes closed then; he wouldn’t have known how to react at the proximity. 

But now, he can see you so clearly, your low bun kept in place by bobby pins the same color of your hair; there’s glitter on the inner corners of your eyes, some of it falling to dot the corners of your nose. 

This has to be more than just a crush if he’s feeling this intensely.  

Your eyes meet for a brief moment, then it’s two blinks before you look away, clearing your throat as you glance at him again, a little bashful, “Thank you.” 

Shouto nods, taking one step back. 

“The estate we booked for the company outing offered to host a visit for you next weekend.” you speak before he fully returns to his seat, shifting in your seat, “I checked your schedule and there’s nothing set for that day yet.” His suit jacket dwarfs you, the deep navy silk becoming an accent the further you sink into it, “Maybe you’d like to go with your mom?”

You suggest it to him again. Because you know and you care. 

He taps his foot, looking out into the city, “That would be nice.” Then he turns back to you, strands of his bangs falling to dust his forehead as he puts his hands inside his pockets, “You’ll be coming too, then?” 

(There are things you don’t allow your heart to feel in moments like this—hope being one of them. Shouto looks dangerously attractive in a suit, and it’s been difficult to keep your feelings at bay the entire night. He speaks honestly, rarely with double meaning, so when he speaks to you like this, you try not to think too much of it. 

“Yes,” you agree, thinking that he must want you to scope out the venue for the company outing activities, “is there anything in particular that you want me to check out for the team building?”)

Shouto tilts his head. 

“Not for work,” he clarifies, staring straight into your eyes. “Just to spend the day with us.” 

He expects your reaction already, your eyes widening and your hands raising to wave off a ‘there’s no need.’ But, he finds that there’s no reason for you to be shy, already beating you to the final say.

“Mom would want you there,” he mentions, because it’s true. She’d look for you. 

And if he’s being completely honest with himself, with how he’s been feeling around you lately—he would too.

II. IF I SPEAK

The Todoroki family home comes alive on the weekends. 

Since Touya’s return, his mom has moved into a smaller, more modern place to stay. The walls of its exteriors are painted a warm off-white, its features complemented by light wood and bluish-gray accents. At the back exists a garden large enough for a few small trees and her growing flower collection—a complete flip from their larger and darker old home. 

The tall windows stream sunlight into the living space, each corner of the house doused in its comfort. Opting for a smaller home was a conscious choice—everything would be within reach, and so would the people in it. 

On the days that Touya is allowed to stay home from rehab, he lives here, sometimes with Fuyumi, but always with Rei. 

“Food is ready!” Fuyumi calls from the kitchen, prompting Touya and Natsuo to look over from the couch. Shouto is just about to finish setting the table when Rei brings out a piping hot pot of soup, Fuyumi in tow with a whole plate of tonkotsu. 

Natsuo heads inside the kitchen for anything else that might need carrying, and Touya opens the fridge to take out the iced tea he helped make last night.

It’s taken some time to get here—with Touya willingly doing anything with his family. Getting used to living with people he thought abandoned him for a decade is hard; learning to become a family has been even harder. 

But Touya has always lived in a special corner of his mother’s heart—never forgotten and always considered. Shouto thinks it’s the same case for all of them; that’s how it’s managed to work. 

Touya takes his seat beside Shouto, pouring himself a glass of iced tea while waiting for the rest of their family. 

“Played any golf lately?” Touya eyes Shouto from the side.  

Shouto shakes his head, staring at his palms; calluses used to line the base of his fingers, “Work at the agency has gotten busy.” 

Taking up golf has been part of Touya’s rehabilitation program for the past few months, a recommendation to aid in improving focus while keeping himself calm. And though there was much resistance at first, Touya’s grown fond enough of the sport to play it on his own; it’s made all the difference, Shouto’s noticed, his brother’s overall disposition a lot less angry—

“Looks like I’m going to beat your ass next week,” Touya smirks, cracking his wrists. 

—but still equally as snarky.

Shouto doesn’t normally care about competition; the only person he really has to beat is himself. But he and Touya are alike in many ways, with eyes as sharp as their father’s but their faces holding the same innocence as their mother’s. They are both lit up by fires—one forced to grow and the other forced to suppress. There is a bluntness Shouto shares with Touya that no one else in the family can argue with.

“Being too confident can jinx it for you on the fairway,” Shouto replies, turning to his brother with his signature blank gaze. 

Natsuo laughs as he settles into his seat beside Touya, watching as his older brother’s smirk quickly dissolves into a frown. 

“Little shit,” Touya mumbles, taking a sip from his drink. 

The corners of Shouto’s lips curl up slightly. 

Rei and Fuyumi join the table last, bringing out a steaming pot of rice and a few side dishes to complement the rest of the meal. 

These family lunches keep them connected. 

Fuyumi believes that no matter how busy they are, having this time to gather together and share details on each other’s lives is important.

“Sorry I can’t join you and these two next weekend, mom,” Natsuo starts, slicing through his tonkotsu as he points an elbow towards his brothers, “The hospital has a medical mission out of town.” 

Rei simply smiles, waving her hand, “No need to apologize. I’m so proud of you, Natsuo.” 

“Will you be free, Fuyumi?” she turns next to her, placing a hand on Fuyumi’s lap. 

Fuyumi swallows her food, smiling apologetically, “Sorry, mom, the school’s hosting a kiddie pool party for the first day of summer.”  

Rei pats her lap reassuringly, smiling again as she says, “It’s no problem, I’m glad the kids are having fun under your care.” 

“It’ll just be the three of us, then.” Rei looks at her two boys across from her—her eldest and her youngest. 

Touya blows at his bowl, puffs of steam dissipating into the air. For as hot as Touya’s flames can get, he dislikes anything too hot to eat—a preference of his that Rei’s taken note of as she reaches across the table to cool down his bowl ever so slightly. 

“Thanks,” Touya mumbles, still hesitant to call her ‘mom’ when it’s face-to-face. 

“I heard the estate has a greenhouse,” Shouto mentions, Rei instantly perking up at the information, “You can take a look at the plants there, mom.” 

“That sounds lovely, Shouto,” she smiles; this time, it reaches her eyes, “We can take photos in your handsome outfits too.” 

Touya scrunches his nose as Shouto nods. As per the invitation, the estate prepared a whole day’s worth of activities—a game of golf in the morning, brunch by the gardens, and a simple wine tasting to cap off the afternoon. 

Lunch continues with Fuyumi sharing more about the kids she’s handling this year, and Natsuo retelling interactions of the most obnoxious patients he’s had yet. 

They laugh, a little more like a family—Shouto chuckling as Touya gives a snarky comment or two. Fuyumi laughs, full-bodied, and Rei giggles, softly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. 

“How are your flowers, mom?” Shouto asks after they settle down, remembering that you helped her pick out which ones to plant last time. 

“The morning glories are going to be blooming soon,” Rei replies, her smile fond and proud. Since being released from the hospital years ago, she’s taken to planting and flower arranging, oftentimes asking you to help her choose which ones to use. 

“Really?” Fuyumi turns her head, gasping as she catches a glance from the window across the room, “They look good, mom! Can I have some when they bloom?” 

Rei nods, turning to her youngest, “You can get some too, Shouto.” 

For you, she adds.

Natsuo eyes him from the side as he freezes, Rei suggesting some more, “You can place it in a vase. It’s not fair, you always receive flowers for your desk.” 

Shouto nods, a small ‘okay’ because he doesn’t really know how else to respond without giving his feelings away. 

Touya observes Shouto’s expressions, his eyes twinkling in sinister aquamarine.

“Speaking of,” he shifts in his seat, crossing his legs to face Shouto, “s’your hot assistant coming?” 

Something twists in Shouto’s face, his brows furrowing slightly. 

Touya knows just how to get on Shouto’s nerves.

(What stares back at him is a deadly shade of gray and blue. 

Touya does this pretty often: provoking just for fun. 

Shouto stares at almost everyone he interacts with; it’s unnerving and uncomfortable for people who aren’t used to it, but Touya’s noticed that his little brother stares at you for far longer than he needs to. 

And though he’s missed a big chunk of how Shouto grew up, he likes to think he reads him pretty well now—how he acts around you, especially.

At his core, Shouto believes in carving his own path, choosing to fix wrongs and better himself for the now. Touya knows these things, knows where a person is weakest, just like he’s been taught—just like he’s been made aware of his entire life. Yet, for how independent Shouto’s become, he still chooses to lean on you; turns to you for thoughts and opinions,  considering you in everything. 

Touya has met you a few times; the whole family has. During the worst of his relapse, you were the only person apart from family who was trusted to accompany him in and out of rehab. You picked him up and dropped him off, often joining Rei and Fuyumi on visits when Shouto would be too busy. 

To him, you’re an extension of Shouto at this point—an olive branch that’s been just as instrumental in healing this family and the people in it. 

It’s never in the big things, but those few minutes of small talk you attempt with him in the car ride home help loosen his tongue, training a muscle that with time, has helped him open up more. 

Touya doesn’t care much for people; he’s still just beginning to learn to love his family again, but he thinks you fit in well, because you and Natsuo have the same god-awful humor, and Fuyumi only trusts you to help out in the kitchen. His mom likes having you around, and you never stick your neck in too deep in other people’s shit when they aren’t ready for it—especially his. You never nag Shouto, but you stand firm on the things you disagree with, because as far as Touya can see, you care, far deeper than your job requires you to. 

In all ways, you are the stability and calm authenticity that Shouto needs after growing up in such a tumultuous family.

So, Touya likes to stir the pot a little. Or a lot. Maybe.

Just for fun.)

Shouto continues to stare, his frown deepening. His jaw clenches, tension throbbing in his temples.

“Don’t say it like that,” he mutters, low and firm.

He feels like a kid again; like this would be a conversation they’d be having if things were normal and Touya had been around when Shouto turned 15, teasing him about a crush he might have, like older brothers do. 

Natsuo and Fuyumi have always felt like his protectors, siblings forced to be parents by circumstance; but Touya feels like his brother, the one he can fight and steal food from; the one who holds a toy up above head where Shouto can’t reach—even though he’s much, much taller than his older brother now. 

Touya scoffs, smirking, “Just saying what you think, little brother.”

.

.

.

All Shouto hears is a thump. 

A succession of them, in a steady three-part beat. 

The golf ball in front of him sits on an even plot of vibrant green, its dents and grooves emphasized by the sunlight of the early morning—there’s pressure, a thump; he needs to beat Touya in this hole to tie overall. Another thump; you’re watching him play. 

He analyzes all conditions, feels the heat on his back seep through the fabric of his white golf shirt. He breathes in and prepares to swing. 

Today is the visit to the estate. 

The agenda starts with an early game of golf, followed by brunch at the gardens and wine tasting in the early to late afternoon. It’s a beautiful day, and Shouto should be focusing on winning this game, but it’s distracting when you’re all he’s really thought about since the start of this round. 

—you, in your perfectly fitted white golf shirt and its complementary skirt; you, sitting with his mom at the back of the golf cart, smiling and laughing as if you aren’t the slightest bit aware of how much you brighten a space when you look like that. You, with your head whipping right in his direction when you hear the loud ‘swauck!’ that the impact of his club makes with the ball—your eyes excited and hopeful. 

Shouto misses the hole, and Touya snickers from the side. 

The thumbs up you give him is a soothing balm to his miss.

Shouto readjusts his cap as they walk closer to the hole, tucking in the strands of hair clinging to his forehead. He glances back at you and lingers, interrupted only by—

“Pretty thing, your assistant,” Touya teases, nudging his head towards your direction, “Cute skirt and all.” 

“Stop.” Shouto stares, impassive and unamused. His eyebrow twitches before he turns, walking away. 

From afar, he can hear Touya’s chuckle, breathy from the movement of fixing his arm sleeve. Shouto only pays attention to preparing his putter.  

He knows this is just how his older brother is. 

Since the start of this round, Touya’s managed to lead  by a few strokes, with Shouto falling behind in every hole. It’s frustrating and annoying, aggravated even more by Touya’s teasing and the fact that Shouto has played the sport for far longer than Touya has.

It doesn’t help that he ends up missing again, with Touya managing to make the put afterwards. 

Shouto sighs, clenching his jaw. 

“You know,” Touya eyes him as they walk to the next hole, “staring’s not gonna get you anywhere.” 

“I’m not staring,” Shouto retorts immediately. The expanse of greenery ahead of him is taunting, an endless plot of land that feels like it’s watching.  

Touya scoffs, “Sure.” 

The golf course in the estate is landscaped with luscious trees, vibrant in the brightness of summer. Flowers bloom along the perimeter, yellows and reds carving out this specific section of the estate. You and his mom follow closely behind, riding the cart at a slow and steady pace. 

Just a few meters down, the little red flag for the next hole comes into view, moving with the breeze. 

“If you don’t plan on acting on it, you should let me know.” Touya mentions it a little too casually. 

Another thump. 

It’s a joke. Obviously. Something only meant to rile him up—it’s how Touya is. 

But it still makes him feel just a tad bit uneasy; it makes him feel a little bit like it did when they were kids. 

Before Touya disappeared, they used to sneak into the garden on winter nights. Shouto must have been no older than five and learning how to manage his quirk properly. 

They used to play a game: The Twigfire Race, Touya called it—a competition on who can form the longest and fastest fire trail using a bunch of twigs. 

Touya would always win, his long legs and lanky arms gathering more sticks than Shouto ever could at that age. His flames burned a deep azure blue, eating through the twigs much faster than Shouto’s flames did. Then, he’d press onto the pads of his burnt fingertips, teasing Shouto in some twisted attempt at motivating his little brother to do better. 

Touya would always win, but not without getting a word in. Not without leaving Shouto with a lesson or two about it. 

“I said, stop.” Shouto warns him, voice stern as he turns slightly to catch his brother's eyes. 

“Damn. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Touya raises a hand in mock surrender, smirking, “I can just do it without asking you.” 

Shouto stops walking, fists clenched tightly around his golf club. 

“That’s not funny.” 

“Oh, I’m not joking,” Touya taunts, holding back his laugh.

The stare Shouto gives him turns icy, glare intensifying as he inches closer towards his big brother. Touya doesn’t move, the stare-off lasting long enough for you to notice the confrontation. 

From his periphery, Shouto can see you looking at them in confusion. 

“Or am I?” Touya snickers right before he turns away, walking straight towards the next hole. 

Shouto watches him walk away, each thump matching the footsteps his brother makes. To the side, the cart slows to a halt and you get off, standing up as if to gain a better view of what just happened. 

You lock eyes with Shouto and he musters a small smile, raising a hand as if to say ‘everything’s fine.’ 

“Losers lose ‘cause they don’t get shit done, Shouto!” Touya calls from a few steps ahead. 

Shouto stares at his brother’s back; it’s just how Touya used to say when they were kids—

“You just have to go for it!” 

He takes a step. 

.

.

.

Touya wins the round, with Shouto losing by only a few strokes. 

Rei hugs them both, Touya’s slight reluctance evident in the way his arms stay glued to his side as she wraps hers around the both of them. 

Shouto brings one hand up, resting it against her back; from his line of sight, he spots you smiling fondly, giving him another thumbs up when your eyes meet. 

.

.

.

The estate’s staff escorts everyone to their respective rooms, allowing some time to change into clothes more suited for the late morning brunch. 

When Shouto and Touya finish, they make their way to the greenhouse, a glass dome teeming with life. It’s art in bloom—chrysanthemums, hydrangeas, sunflowers, and camellias all in varying colors of pink, red, purple, and yellow. Under a small bridge is a pond, alive with koi fish swimming underneath pads of water lilies, and right up above, where the sunlight streams in, are baskets of japanese roses, hanging in bright, fuschia clusters. 

He walks atop the bridge, hands stuffed inside his linen pants—a pair that matches the linen shirt you gifted him birthdays ago. What surrounds him is beautiful; perhaps the most heavenly place he’s been to. 

A morning of golf under the sun, nature in florescence. A (relatively) peaceful morning. 

And you—

The moment Shouto spots you, the scenery on your backdrop fades into muddled hues. You and Rei enter the greenhouse side-by-side, with his mother wearing an all-white ensemble: a cardigan with a long, flowy skirt. 

And you—

—you walk in wearing a pale yellow sundress, its hem hitting just above your knees. There are dainty flowers dotted all over it, but nothing too loud; the straps sink into a v-neck with bust details, flowing down into an a-line skirt. It’s perfectly understated, only emphasizing the focus on how radiant you look in it. 

He can’t stop staring. 

Touya snorts as he passes him. 

This day, this sight, is going to stay in his memory for a long, long while, he thinks. 

From up ahead, he can hear his mom call for Touya, dragging him around to ask which blooms would look best for the garden at home. And when he snaps out of the daze you’ve put him in, you appear right beside him, asking if he’s okay. 

“Yes,” he answers promptly, unsure of what to say next. His eyes flit to the baskets of japanese roses hanging above you, then to the view peeking from outside. “Do you want to look around before we eat?”

You nod. 

The depth of the greenhouse is deceiving upon first glance, with Touya and Rei now out of sight as you explore the area. You walk close enough to be side-by-side but still stay a step behind like you typically do, pausing every now and then to take pictures of the flowers around you. 

“You seem more relaxed,” he points out, pushing up the sleeves of his button-up. 

You turn to him from the chrysanthemums you’re snapping, a little flustered at his comment. 

(And at him, mostly. You don’t know how anyone can look this good in a simple linen set. Nature favors Todoroki Shouto, and it shows in moments like now, with sunlight hitting his face at just the right angle that it paints stardust on the tips of his eyelashes.) 

“It’s good,” he quickly follows-up, fluffing through his bangs, “I did mention this wasn’t for work.” 

(You feel warm at the reminder.

“It’s nice to see you with some down time too,” you return the sentiment, uncomfortable with the attention on you.

Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your dress.)

“Did something happen earlier?” you put your phone down, continuing to walk. “At the course. Things looked pretty tense.” 

Shouto hums, considers his next words. He takes a few more steps before answering, “Touya is a dick.” 

A laugh escapes you, and you cover your mouth quickly as you mumble an apology. Shouto knows it’s because it’s completely out of character for him to be so vulgar and insulting when it comes to his siblings.

“Was he sabotaging you?” 

“...Something like that.” he responds. 

“That’s okay,” you scrunch your nose, peering up at him, “You haven’t had much time to play lately.” 

And Shouto wonders if he’s just that easy to console, or if it’s a specific comfort that only comes from you. You make it so easy for him to feel better about all the little and big things—whether it’s news articles headlining him as a PR nightmare, or near-losses on missions gone wrong. 

Not a lot of things get to Shouto, but when they do, you somehow always know how to handle it. 

You continue to stroll around the greenhouse, looking closely at the steel bars holding up the glass arches. From a few steps ahead, Shouto can hear your mumbles—something about measurements and the logistics of turning the rooftop of the agency into a smaller version of this greenhouse.  

“You and mom looked like you were enjoying yourselves earlier,” he mentions offhandedly, hands clasped around his back. 

It’s something he’s noticed for a while—his mother seems to relax more around you, laughing and smiling in most of your conversations. He gets it; you have that effect on everyone around you, the warmth you exude a welcome invitation to be opened up to. 

(You eye him from the side knowingly; Todoroki Shouto is nothing but a closet snoop.) 

“We were talking about plant stuff,” you smile, “and how she’s happy you and Touya finally got to play together. You should’ve seen how red her hands were from clapping for the both of you.” 

He chuckles softly, matching your steps in comfortable silence. 

It’s at a different section of the greenhouse that he pauses, giving you time to admire the shrubs of hydrangeas blooming around you.

Touya’s words come back to him. 

He wonders if he should say it, if he should ask—

“Don’t move,” you tell him, raising your phone to eye-level.

Shouto stares at you, hands in his pockets as he watches you tap on your phone.

“Look to the side,” you instruct him again, and he follows, albeit a little confused. 

When he turns to face you again, the smile on your face is beaming, glowing as you turn your phone to show him the photos you managed to take. 

“The lighting was nice. See!” 

And when you point to the way sunlight streaks highlights onto the redness of his hair, down to the slope of his nose and the width of shoulders, he can’t help but agree. 

Now, he wonders—

“Do you want a photo with the flowers?” Shouto asks, because it makes no sense that you deem him worthy to be pictured in perfect lighting when there’s you, looking like you do—the walking subject to the backdrop of greenery behind you. 

Your eyes widen, a stuttered “O-Oh,” falling from your lips. You tug at your skirt again, fiddling with the soft fabric until your eyes nervously meet his. “I don’t really need—”

“The lighting is nice here, too.”

“Oh,” you respond, a hint of diffidence as you flash a small, hesitant smile, “Okay.” 

As Shouto angles himself to take your photo, he notices you turn restless, the smile on your face never quite reaching your eyes and your fingers constantly twirling the fabric of your dress. 

He puts down his phone, tilting his head. 

“Are insects biting you?”

(Your brows shoot up, embarrassed by how he’s noticed. 

You shake your head in response, providing no other explanation besides “Sorry.” 

He continues to stare, as if waiting for you to continue. You know there’s no point hiding the real reason you feel so nervous when he’s already noticed this much.  

“I think I might be underdressed,” you admit, smiling sheepishly as you clasp your fingers in front of you, “This entire place is gorgeous.”

The estate screams high-class; apart from the golf course and the greenhouse, the area also boasts its own private lake glistening across a large green field. It feels a little too good to be true—a paradise you find yourself out of place in. 

But—)

Shouto looks at you, really looks at you—at the way your dress hits right above your knees at the perfect length, at how your collarbones peek through its dainty v-neck cut. Its pale yellow makes you look like summer, radiating in light, and he thinks he hasn’t seen anything more beautiful, really; anything more fitting—for this occasion, for this venue, for this day. 

For you. 

The words have been lodged at his throat since he first saw you step in, and now they’re being pushed out, coaxed slowly by the honesty beating thunderously in his chest. 

He thinks about his mom, how she speaks of beauty whenever and wherever she finds it, with nothing stopping her speech and—

There’s a hum, a thoughtful vibration priming his throat as he continues to stare. 

“I think you’re dressed just right,” is what he manages to get out. 

A thump. 

It’s more than that, though, he knows. 

If this is his chance, if this is ‘next time’ from his attempt at the gala—

He blinks, and you only get prettier. 

“You look beautiful.” he confesses, the sentence overflowing with honesty.

(And when he says your name unlike any way he’s said it before, you feel your chest expand, terrified that it might explode.

Shouto is blunt and honest to a fault; and that honesty, you’ve realized, also happens to be his most cunning trait—a quality that's endeared you over the years now rendering you into a stuttering, fumbling mess like never before. 

“T-Thank you.” you straighten your dress, “You—”)

Shouto’s phone vibrates in his palm, a call from Touya breaking him out of your conversation. He bows his head slightly to excuse himself and you nod in acknowledgment. 

“Brunch is served,” he relays, pocketing his phone soon after he hangs up.

(Then, with his hand inside his pocket, he bends his arm deeper, creating a wider loop as if to offer it for you to hang onto—the same way he did during the gala.

And just like you did then, you take it.)

.

.

.

Brunch was served at the estate’s main patio, a circular table made of light wood adorned with dainty white tableware and muted green linen. In the middle was a centerpiece, an assortment of fresh flowers from the greenhouse coming together for a pop of color against the main neutral color scheme. 

The food was divine, a lovely selection of seasonal salads and warm breads, along with eggs cooked in every way possible. Newly harvested fruits were served before and after the meal, a kind of appetizer-dessert to complement the main piece—a large slab of freshly caught salmon. 

Now, you all gather on the second floor of the estate’s main building, right at the balcony overlooking the greenhouse and the field—a perfect view for wine tasting.

Shouto doesn’t care much for alcohol, all technicalities going past his head as the sommelier explains notes and wine pairings.

He can’t taste much of the difference, if he’s being honest. 

In the sommelier’s hand is a bottle of red wine; he describes all of the technical parts of it before finishing off with the fact that it’s ‘beautifully balanced’, something that causes Touya to snort at the side. 

Shouto looks, raising an eyebrow curiously. 

Touya leans in closer to his little brother, swirling the wine in his glass as he lowers his voice mockingly, “‘You look beautiful’.”

The expression on Shouto’s face remains unreadable, his brain processing the fact that his brother must have overheard his conversation with you earlier. It’s while Touya begins to gulp down his glass that Shouto steps on his foot—a sharp pressure stomped onto freshly cleaned loafers. 

“Fuckin–” Touya hisses, cursing under his breath as he pulls his foot away. 

The edges of Shouto’s lips curl up as he turns back to his glass of wine, watching from across the table as his mom smiles fondly at something you must have said. 

(You still feel flustered, a little fuzzy. You’re unsure whether the heat emanating off your cheeks is from the wine or the lingering echoes of his compliment earlier.

From across the table, you lock eyes with Shouto, gray and blue sitting strikingly atop flushed cheeks. You look away quickly—a knee-jerk reaction of bashfulness. He doesn’t hold his liquor well, a fact you’ve known for many, many years, so you can’t tell for sure whether he’s turned red from the wine, or from the same thing you’re feeling, too.) 

III. LET ME TELL YOU (HONESTLY)

“If y’don’t do shit first, some other loser will.”

“Losers lose ‘cause they don’t get shit done…”

“...just be honest about it when the time comes.”

The streets are calm at this time of night, with cars occasionally passing by and the chimes of shop doors tinkling as they open and shut. Not a lot of people stay up late in this part of the neighborhood, but Shouto still hears them—all the jumbled voices of Bakugo and his brothers merging in his mind. 

He steps onto concrete, footfalls muffled by the cushion of his boots—a new update on his costume, one you suggested after a stealth mission mishap caused by the drag of his heel. 

Tonight is his scheduled patrol—a route he knows like the back of his hand, memorized from the many years he’s been assigned to it. The streetlamps ahead cast a dim glow down the road; an atmosphere he would otherwise find unsettling if not for the fact that it’s provided him odd comfort in times he’s needed it the most. 

Tonight, his mind ruminates on you. 

Lately, his interactions with you have been… different—shy glances and awkward slip-ups; the intentional way he’s been expressing himself more around you. 

He can’t tell what you think of it yet. 

Yet, you still sit with him in comfortable silence on the nights that you both work late, and you still bring in fresh flowers for his desk every few days. He’s sure that when he gets back to the agency after his shift, you’ll still be there, claiming to finish a report when you both know it’s just an excuse to make sure that he finished patrol safely.

You still care for him in the same way. 

And now that he’s thinking more about it, maybe it’s been those little things all along—the same way you’ve been treating him all these years shifting into something deeper and more significant, beating its way out of his chest. 

You know Shouto better than anyone—so much so that his family asks you for lists of gift ideas because they don’t have the slightest clue what else to get him. He’s found himself seeking your opinion on things more and more over the years, and if he’s being honest, a big chunk of his decisions are now partly influenced by what you think of them first. 

Across the street, a couple sways to the beat of the jazz bar they step out of, their hands intertwined and smiles giddy with adoration and love. He looks away quickly before they catch him staring. 

There are things Shouto’s discovered that he likes seeing you do—like how you shift your feet when you feel flustered at something he says, or when you tap your index finger against whatever surface it’s on when you’re deep in thought. Your eyes widen when he says things you don’t expect him to, and something about that intrigues him.

He thinks you look cute. 

He wonders if you know that about yourself; and if you don’t, a part of him is saying that he should be the one to tell you.  

.

.

.

You and Shouto attend only one day of teambuilding. 

The company trip spans an entire two weeks, with each department coming in a few days at a time. You both would stay if you could, but Shouto’s schedule doesn’t allow him to be gone for more than a day.

It’s always been unspoken: wherever Shouto goes, you go too. 

This day of the teambuilding is assigned for the managers and those under Shouto’s direct reporting team. 

The estate is still as beautiful as the last time you both visited, summer shining atop the glistening surface of the lake across the green field. Company trips aren’t typically this grand, but this is also the first time in years that Shouto’s had free time to drop by. 

(It’s a bit funny, you think, watching him struggle to reach the finish line in a three-legged race paired with his finance director. Shouto is typically awkward in most team activities, but you find it endearing, watching him put full effort into things he normally doesn’t do.) 

By mid-afternoon, the day’s activities have consisted of tank rolls, marble balancing, and a classic game of pass-the-message (which, you’ve learned, Shouto is absolute garbage at). And for the final game of the day, the both of you are paired for a duo tug of war against his PR manager and support engineer. 

The afternoon heat burns the back of Shouto’s neck, his cap providing little to no protection for that area of his skin. He stands behind you, rope twisted firmly in his grasp as he prepares to pull. You mimic his stance, bracing yourself with your knees bent as you grip the rope tightly. 

Prior to the game, you were all given three minutes to discuss strategies. 

And so now, Shouto counts, low and steady, “One.” 

“Get set,” the facilitator for this activity announces. 

“Two.” 

You take a deep breath. 

“Go!” 

“Three.”

You both pull, holding your ground for a few seconds. He can see your knuckles turning white from where he’s standing, and when he glances at the other team, they’ve begun to lean back, anchoring their bodies to the ground before pulling away slowly. 

Shouto digs his feet into the earth, the rope’s rough fibers sticking to the calluses on his hands. It doesn’t take long before you both slip forward, being dragged by the other team and eventually pulled into your loss. 

You turn back to him immediately, apologetic as you rub your palms, “Sorry!”

(Before the game even began, you already knew whoever your partner was would be carrying most of the work. And you feel a little bad because your loss does make a bit of sense, you think. 

Though Shouto is strong, you know he’s developed his agility far more than his strength. It doesn’t help that his support engineer lifts bulks of synthetic thermal cloth everyday. 

The both of you didn’t stand a chance, really.) 

But Shouto waves it off, smiling softly. 

“Are you okay?” he looks down at your hands. Your skin is an angry flaming red all over your palms, but what causes him to frown are the small cuts resting at the base of your fingers. 

“Yup, all g–” you attempt to hide it, but Shouto’s reflexes are quick, and he catches your wrist the moment you pull away. 

It’s an instinctive reaction when he looks over it once, pressing his thumb to the center of your palm to get a better look. He reaches for his utility belt out of habit, patting the area above his hip only to feel nothing but the smooth cotton of his shirt.

Right, he remembers, he isn’t wearing his gear today.  

He drops his arms, looking around the field for a first-aid kit nearby. 

(A small chuckle escapes you, endeared, and Shouto looks up at the sound. His eyes meet yours briefly before he jogs all the way to retrieve the red box by the tree. 

It’s just a friction burn; a few small cuts from the rough material of the rope, at most. 

You don’t need first-aid. But—) 

When Shouto comes back, he ushers you to the side, grabbing a few cotton buds and antiseptic ointment from the box. His brain works on autopilot, barely thinking as he tends to your injury.

(You don’t need first-aid. But—) 

He peels the bandaid for you and gently places it on top of your wounds—a yellow checkered pattern decorating your skin. 

(You don’t need first aid. But you kind of get it, you think. It’s the same instinctive reaction you have when he gets papercuts. There’s no need for you to mend them with your quirk, but it’s an inexplicable feeling that makes you feel uneasy at the idea of him getting injured off the field.

A whistle is blown to call everyone back to huddle. 

“Better?” Shouto stares at you from under his cap, readjusting it as red and white strands touch the tips of his eyelashes. 

(He looks unfairly pretty like this. How can he even expect you to answer?

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, swallowing your breath. 

When Shouto walks towards everyone else, you follow, pressing your thumb onto your palm.) 

.

.

.

Shouto drops by the greenhouse at the end of the day. 

The sky above the glass dome ceiling is warmed by orange and pink hues. At sunset, the greenhouse looks ethereal, an almost otherworldly escape. The flowers haven’t changed much from his last visit here, but they seem to have blossomed further now that time has passed. 

He walks past the familiar cluster of chrysanthemums and spots a patch of white flowers he doesn’t recall from last time—a wooden placard with the name ‘iris’ sticks out from the soil. His knees bend to crouch low, fingers grazing over the softness of its petals. 

Earlier today, the estate so kindly offered to let him bring home flowers of his choice, and this bunch in front of him calls out to him, a purity and warmth that reminds him of his mom. 

The nippers in his hand feel clunky, a heavy-duty version of the ones he uses when he helps with gardening at home; but he cuts the stems gently, careful to remember all he’s been taught. 

When he thinks he’s gotten enough, he continues to stroll around the greenhouse, the wicker basket in his hand half-filled with pure, white irises. 

A little further down the path, he passes by the hydrangea bushes, his steps slowing as fragmented pieces of that memory with you replay in slow motion. 

“The lighting was nice. See!” 

“You look beautiful,” he confesses, the sentence overflowing with honesty.

And he decides—

He should get you flowers too. 

Your desk always seems to have some, and you’re consistently on top of keeping fresh flowers around the agency—on his desk specifically. 

It’s only right.

His mom always tells him that flowers can never lie; they bloom where they are loved and speak from the heart when words are not enough—it’s why she loves them so much.

And, maybe she has a point, because the pink hydrangeas look pretty; they remind him of you, especially.

On his way here, the white camellias spoke to him too. Maybe he’ll get them both for you. 

He crouches low again, nipping the hydrangea stems before backtracking to collect a few camellias. By the time he finishes, his wicker basket is filled to the brim, an assortment of pink and white threatening to spill from its edges. The leaves of the irises stick out, poking at his wrist and making the skin itch.

You find him that way—struggling to wrangle in the abundance of blooms into his basket.

“I think you need another basket,” you chuckle, walking towards him. 

There’s something about you and this hour; how it feels like you fit right in this moment, at the peak of sunset, blooming the same way the flowers do. 

Your smile is radiant against the warmth of diffused sunlight, and though he’s seen you in this same exact slacks-and-blouse combination before, the way he sees you now has shifted. 

You look different, but in all the ways he can’t visibly point out. 

He blinks, and that thump beats once more. 

His arm moves before he can comprehend it, the bunch of camellias and hydrangeas outstretched towards you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you tilt your head slightly, your hand reaching out for it reluctantly. 

“Would you want me to have this wrapped?” 

(The flowers feel lush in your palm, and you can’t help but wonder who he intends to give them to. There are irises in his basket too, left untouched for reasons you’re not sure you’d like to know. 

Your grip on the stems tighten. 

The camellias stare back at you, an immaculate white, with the pink hydrangeas adding a delicate softness to them. It’s a pretty combination, and you can’t help but think that whoever they’re intended for should feel—)

“It’s for you.”

You lock eyes when you look up. There’s a weight to Shouto’s gaze that intends to get his message across, the words still barely forming on his tongue. 

“Oh,” is the only thing you manage to say.  

(—surprised; grateful; confused; the emotions swirl inside of you. The shock is apparent on your face, your eyes widening at his admission. Confusion presents itself in the tilt of your head as you stumble over how to express your gratitude.

“It’s not…” you hesitate, diverting your gaze to anything else but that piercing pair of gray-and-blue. Your mind is drawing up a blank, figuring out what reason he has for giving them to you.)

“There’s no occasion…?”

It comes out as half a question and half something else, your uncertainty marked by the semi-lilt at the end. 

Shouto blinks. 

He wonders if he should tell you now, if he should just confess that he’s been feeling differently about you these days.

You shift your feet, your thumbs rubbing against the flowers’ leaves. 

The thump persists in his chest, knocking at the base of his throat—

Thump.

He takes a deep breath.

Thump.

—but even with its persistence, the words still struggle to come out.

Thump.

Maybe not now; it’s not the right time. 

But he says something else, an admission much easier that still holds just as much truth.

“No occasion.” 

.

.

.

Shouto knows your Mondays. 

You switch out the flowers on his desk for a different arrangement of blooms every week. Then, you give him a run-down of his schedule, going over important announcements and upcoming events. 

The mornings go by quickly, with you constantly moving around your desk. Shouto can’t tell what you’re doing exactly, but you’re always working on something whenever he sneaks a peek through the single glass panel cut-out from your shared wall. 

Lunch is a wildcard. On some days, you bring your own; on others, you grab a bite down in the cafeteria. Your routine is largely dependent on how busy you anticipate work to be that day, and though it varies from time-to-time, you never forget to knock on his door—a two-part thump that takes him out of his own little work bubble. 

He almost looks forward to it now, the way your head peeps in from behind his office doors. You call out his name softly, only continuing to speak when he looks up from whatever file he’s working on. 

Shouto knows your Mondays. 

You spend the afternoons all over the place, much like he does; while he roams the city, you roam the agency, attending meetings and checking in on different departments. He knows because when he comes back by the end of the day, you almost always have a new set of updates prepared on your desk for the next morning. 

He also knows that Mondays are when you often work overtime, preferring to get a bulk of any urgent matters completed and out of the way.

The back door of his office clicks shut as he walks into the room, his rubber boots leaving no trace that he’s arrived from how quietly his footsteps hit the floor. He unbuckles his utility belt, one hand automatically reaching for its lock; it’s a habit, the ‘clack’ that sounds from it a satisfying marker he looks forward to at the end of every patrol. 

In the corner of his office is a private restroom that he slips into. He quickly changes out of his hero suit and into a pair of sweatpants, throwing on one of his many favorite white shirts—his go-to outfit on the days he works late. 

There are still some reports he has to look over tonight, but nothing too time-consuming. 

It’s really you he’s staying behind for. 

He glances at you through the glass panel of his wall, your face dimly lit by your computer screen. Your eyebrows are scrunched, eyes squinting in pure focus. 

It never feels right for him to leave when you haven’t left either. 

He settles into his seat, finger tapping on his desk as he contemplates whether or not he should offer you his help. 

You always decline when he does; he can already hear your response. But there are stacks of folders on your desk right now and he’s predicting that it’ll take at least a few more hours before you get through all of them.

He taps his foot, staring at the report in front of him. 

A thump. 

The wheels of his chair roll back, leather squeaking as he stands up. 

As soon as he exits his office, you look up, surprised. 

“You’re back!” 

He nods, walking closer to your desk. “It’s 8:00 p.m.”

You glance at the top of your screen, a sheepish smile forming on your face, “Right.” 

(This is his way of telling you it’s late, you’re well aware.)

He looks around your desk, folders and stationery all neatly organized and labeled. You keep a few touches of your personality around your space, with personalized pens and notepads gathered in one corner. 

They’re all things he’s seen before, but what makes him do a double-take is the vase sitting in the corner, obscured by your computer screen. 

Sitting inside it is the arrangement of flowers he gave you back at the teambuilding, the pink hydrangeas still as good as new next to the white camellias. It’s been a little over a week since, and you always change the arrangement on your desk as frequently as you change his. 

So for you to keep it for this long—

“And how may I help you?” you ask jokingly, biting down your smile. 

His eyes flit over to you, your gaze set on your screen as you continue to type.

(It’s hard to focus on the documents in front of you when he looks at you like that. Shouto’s stare has always been unnerving, but it feels especially scrutinizing when he merely stands, watching without a word.)

“You have a lot of work left,” he gestures towards the stack of folders on your desk. 

(Your eyes glance over the pile quickly as you mumble, “Yeah.” 

A few seconds of silence pass before what he really means starts to sink in. 

It’s not often that Shouto finishes work before you—at least, to your knowledge. You still see him inside his office when you pack your things, ready to leave. 

So, this is out of the ordinary. 

And if he’s standing in front of your desk, hinting at how much longer you’ll be staying at work. Then, it can only mean—

“A-are you waiting for me to go?” you move to stand, guilty. “Don’t worry about it, I can lock up.”)

Shouto furrows his brows, tilting his head slightly. 

That’s never been a thing; he’s always gone home last, and has always waited for you when you have work left to do. He makes sure of it every time, watching carefully for your computer light to turn off. 

But he won’t tell you that; letting you know would mean admitting that he’s been doing it for years. 

He places his palm on the top folder. 

“What else do you have to do?” 

You stay quiet for a few seconds before reluctantly listing it all—reports, meeting summaries, and a few emails you plan to schedule for tomorrow morning. His frown deepens as your list only grows, immediately cutting yourself off the second you notice your ramblings. 

“… but if you’re waiting, I can bring these home and—”

“What can I do to help?” he interjects, stopping you just before you shut down your computer. 

(You can only stare when proceeds to take a seat in front of you, the legs of your guest chair dragging against the floor as he pulls it closer. 

It hits you a bit like déjà vu, this moment, how it feels just like early days back in that rented studio unit; back when you could count the number of people comprising his team on one hand. 

Back then, your desks were just a few steps away from each other, an overflow of paperwork inevitably spilling into each other’s spaces. Because all of the files were stored in your drawers, it was more convenient for Shouto to sit himself across your desk, splitting the work and going over them one at a time. 

Things are different now that the agency’s grown—you have a bigger space, and the work isn’t nearly as packed as it used to be; but some days still end up a little bit more hectic than others. Like today.

“There’s no need,” you reach for the stack under his palm, “I can finish this at—”

“We can finish faster if we do this together.”

That promptly shuts you up. 

Shouto is blunt to a fault, unafraid of saying things as they are; his voice carries an unbothered cadence no matter who it is he’s talking to. 

You figure, there’s no point arguing with him when he’s right, after all.) 

Shouto begins going over a few of the reports that you’ve tagged red and yellow, listening intently as you instruct him on which parts to focus on. In exchange, you make space for him on your desk, setting aside some of the folders you had brought out earlier.

It’s a good hour into working before Shouto notices you easing up slightly, your shoulders more relaxed in comparison to how bunched up they were earlier.

He knows you’ve been glancing at him occasionally, your head turning every now and then to check on how he’s doing—a failed attempt at subtlety. 

“Are you almost done?” he asks, head down as he slips another completed file into its folder. The stack beside him is growing, his ‘done’ pile nearly as tall as the unfinished one. 

(You turn to him, attention shifting to the split of red and white hair down the center of his head, “Yeah, I just—”

Your words trail off, eyes squinting as you move closer to where he’s hunched over. 

Right on the shoulder of his shirt is a small tear, big enough to touch the edges of its collar but small enough that you’d only have to be up close to be able to notice. 

You assess the tear intently, looking carefully for any cuts underneath and thankfully find none.

But—

He notices you’ve gone quiet and looks up, the sudden movement catching you off guard. You make a sound, something in-between a squeak and an ‘oops.’ 

“Sorry, I just,” you point, “your shirt’s ripped.” 

His eyes follow the direction of your finger, finding the small tear running horizontally along the fabric of hjs shirt. 

“I can fix it,” you offer, the wheels of your chair rolling to land you directly across him. 

It’s one of his favorite shirts.)

He barely thinks when his body acts on its own, pressing itself closer to your desk as you slightly bend over for better reach. 

You don’t have to patch up his shirt, especially something so small. He has plenty of the same ones in his closet; and if it comes to it, he wouldn’t mind buying a new one. You really don’t have to patch up his shirt, because he wouldn’t have even noticed had you not mentioned it. 

But it’s that kind of tender care and attention to detail that you’ve had for him since you started working together that’s always drawn him in. 

Shouto has lived most of his life with the means to live comfortably, but since starting his own agency, he’s learned the value of maximizing resources—and it’s all because of you.

A thump. 

The moment your fingers touch his shoulder, he hears nothing but that continuous three-beat thump. Your quirk tingles when it touches skin, but you aren’t mending that—you’re fixing his shirt, separate from your skin, and yet, he still feels the little zaps go off inside of him. 

A thump. 

Up close, the strands of your hair tickle his cheek. 

A thump. 

The fabric of his shirt mends itself slowly, and it only makes him think of everything else—of the leather chair you helped fix, painstakingly going through each and every crack to bring it back to near-new condition. He thinks about every cut and scrape you’ve helped heal without having to, about every time you’ve insisted when he’d shrug it off as nothing. 

From you, he’s learned that things can be fixed without having to change them whole. 

It’s how he’s (you’ve) managed to keep the agency running; it’s why you get along so well with him and the rest of his family. 

And these feelings in his chest are pounding, built up over time to tip over and transform into something more than just an excellent work dynamic. At this point, it’s become companionship, a presence he seeks out a little bit more than friendship. 

You know him better than anyone else does. 

The flowers he gave you are still on your desk. 

So, he says your name, voice low and tender by your ear. 

You freeze, holding your breath. 

Another thump.

His honesty spills outs—

“I like you.” 

A three-beat thump. 

(You don’t believe it at first, the urge to ask him again right at the tip of your tongue. But, he pulls away, unfinished, and looks you in the eye to continue. 

“But it feels more than a crush, I think.” He presses his fingers against the table, grounding himself, “Natsuo told me it was a crush, and he told me to think about it, so I did.” 

Shouto is a man of sufficient words; not too few, not too plenty. But when he gets nervous and a little excited, he starts rambling, and—

“Bakugo told me his mom thought we were dating, and even though I said that wasn’t the case, I almost didn’t want to deny it. Touya has been a dick about it, but he makes good points, so I also owe it to him.”

(The shock on your face shifts into fondness. You can’t see the point of what he’s saying yet, but it’s cute—one of the many things that make him endearing.) 

He pauses, watching your expression shift into curiosity. 

“It started with this thumping,” he places a hand over his chest. “It used to only come sometimes, but lately it’s been happening all the time.” 

Shouto keeps his gaze deadset on yours. He doesn’t say anything else, sentences just barely forming in his head to fully capture what he really means. His feet and palms stay firmly planted where they are, his only movement being the steady blinking of his eyes. 

(But it’s okay, because you can understand. 

If you’re being honest, the signs were all there. 

Nothing Shouto does can be subtle when you know him as well as you do. 

A smile breaks out on your face, the one you can barely contain around him. It’s a little teasing and shy but completely genuine from the way it softens your eyes. 

“We’ll have to come up with something for HR,” you try to contain your smile.)

And he isn’t worried at all. He knows you’ll both find a way, just like you always do.

additional material: moodboard + playlist

a/n: so much to say about this fic but i'll sum it up with saying this is my baby! and i hold it close to my heart for many reasons. writing this made me love their dynamic and i hope you did too!

thank you notes: to @soumies for literally beta reading this. i owe this fic to you fr you are my lifesaver i love you. to @augustinewrites @scarabrat @stellamancer @arcvenes for helping me a ton with characterisations, dialogues, songs, inspo, everything!!! ily all!! it took a village to write this fic fr. (+ to my bf for sitting me down and so he could explain the whole point system of golf for like 30 minutes LOL)

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[lasquadrasfuckhouse]

hello I am back with a request if that’s ok with you q w q ) for la squadra with scenario-hc’s with their s/o taking care of them ( can go nsfw if you’d like but for now sfw thoughts ) as much as I love them taking care of their s/o I love when the roles are switched. Can be injured or other— but the goal is to make them feel safe and loved for as much as possible, like my other ask tender emotional moments are my jam. If find the muse for it 💖 if not that’s completely ok too. Pls & thnk u 🥰

ALWAYS OKAY W/ ME I LOVE SEEING U IN MY ASKBOX!!!! it's tendie hours 😍

taking care of la squadra 😌

risotto ✂️

it isn't easy to get risotto to relax, he's a workaholic. sit on him and give him a Look that you're not moving and neither is he, and he'll be so charmed that he'll relent.

he's also more used to taking care of people than being taken care of, so it's a bit of an adjustment to sit on his ass for a few days until he's recovered from the worst of whatever injury/illness he's got, but he finds himself getting like, quietly kind of emotional about it. he hasn't allowed himself to be cared for in a long time and he expresses that to you, and how much he appreciates and loves you.

he finds he really enjoys the opportunity to relax, cause yeah he's under the weather but at least he can chill for a bit. and he'd very much love to chill with you if you have the time. quiet cuddles or existing comfortably in the same space will have him feeling very cozy, loved, and rested. kiss him on the forehead to remind him that he is soft and precious and he'll want to snuggle you all day with a little smile on his face.

prosciutto 🚬

also not used to being taken care of. he'll be grumpy and try to micromanage the house from his bed at first (and you probably banished him to bed because he wasn't getting any rest on the couch). he relaxes when he wants to!!!! remind him that he needs time to recover and he's only human, and you promise the house won't fall apart without him. not only is he soft for you but he trusts you completely, so he relaxes.

he might be a bit restless, but set him up with a book and he'll be good. you may even take on prosciutto-like mannerisms in his place, like shushing the others if they're being too noisy. if he overhears you insisting on peace and quiet so he can rest, he'll smile to himself.

what really gets him and lets him know he's loved is taking over what he usually does while he rests, like folding his laundry and putting it away in the order he likes. and if you initiate the classic forehead touch with a smile and tell him to chill so he can get better, he'll gladly lay around all day thinking of you.

pesci 🎣

he tries to power through it but no honey you need to rest. give him puppy eyes and say you really want him to relax and get better, and he'll do it for you. he will get SO better for his babe just u see!!!!

he's also kind of glad for the chance to have downtime tho, even tho he's typically eager to help and stuff. he just wishes he didn't feel like ass. cheer him up with lots of cuddles and quiet relaxing things u can do together and he'll feel loads better!!!

he may feel kind of bad at first like oh no he doesn't want to bother u. but reassure him that he is never a bother, u love him and love being with him and that doesn't change when he's under the weather. he will accept that and thank u wholeheartedly for taking care of him

formaggio 🧀

milks it for all its worth. OOOH BABE IM IN SO MUCH PAAAIN PLEASE HOLD MEEE 😩 if he's feeling like shit at least he's gonna get cuddles out of it

would love nothing more than to snuggle up and watch stupid movies with you all day. he may just cling to you if you try to get up and insists that someone else can fetch you both dinner/blankets/etc instead. you're his best medicine!!! his comfort!!!! do not seperate!!!!!

but he is a sucker for a home cooked meal. even if you go for a bit, if you come back with something u made urself, even if it's not the most amazing display of chef skills, he'll be falling all over himself with how much he loves you because you put love and effort into something to make him feel better

illuso ✨

one of the WORST when he gets sick or injured because he just complains and lays on the pity party even more than formaggio. everything sucks!!! woe is illuso!!!! he needs ur healing kisses!!!!!

he definitely goes into the mirror world to rest b/c he needs peace and quiet or he'll get cranky. but he will bring u ofc. not just to be pampered either he's just cozy and happy in ur company

lavishing him in attention aside, what will REALLY tug on his heart is taking initiative to take care of him, like asking first how he's feeling, bringing an extra blanket cause you know he likes to have a pile of them, offering to very gently brush his hair. just like, little genuine attentive things. it may get him blushing

melone 🍈

very practical about it, there's that whole thing of 'people with medical backgrounds are the worst patients for one reason or another' but he doesn't try to take shortcuts with the rest he knows he needs and he's very polite and patient with asking for/instructing on what he needs

he's great at finding ways to entertain himself so no worries in that regard. if he's worried about getting you sick he may actually discourage cuddles for once in his life but otherwise he'd love to snuggle up to his babe all day

he'd honestly just feel really comforted if you told him all about your day and shared cool things with him or the classic 'i saw this and thought of you' he'll be 😍

ghiaccio ❄️

EXTRA grumpy when he's uncomfortable or in pain and unable to work his energy out. he's very active, so his body (or you) making him sit on his ass when he doesn't want to will leave him very prickly even though logically he knows it's for the best.

he'll generally want his space but then have bouts of feeling very cuddly. picture him cocooned in blankets with only the top half of his face visible and his general grumpy glower relaxes as u massage his scalp like calming an angry cat.

he'll be very thankful for everything you do, including kissing his cheeks or leaving him to chill with some water and a book or shushing the others if they're being too rowdy. but he'll be extra super thankful and soft if you bundle him up and go for a walk with him around the block just to stretch his legs and get some fresh air cause you know how much he hates sitting around.

sorbet and gelato 🔪🍦

if one of them is under the weather, the house gets a brief respite from their antics cause you and the other one are there to entertain them and curb their restlessness. if they're both sick/injured, good fucking luck because their boredom will feed off each other and it will be a nightmare.

sorbet likes to chill but he always needs new surroundings. he'll want to stay on the couch to at least observe the house's regular chaos but if you (and maybe gelato) see that he's not getting enough rest you will have to literally drag him into your bedroom because 1) he's not letting go of his entertainment that easily 2) it's fun to watch you struggle. he is devising every way to cause problems on purpose without moving around too much

gelato HATES sitting still so he is slowly going insane and he will let you know it. get him a big stack of movies, let him have free reign of the tv, play cards with him etc if you know what's good for the whole house because otherwise he won't stay in bed or he'll do shit like scream for help just to see you rush in and then grin and be like oh nvm babe im fine :)

you thought they were a handful together regularly? HAH. when they're sick or injured together they enable each other even more than usual. you are the only one capable of placating them, enjoy being squished between your two extremely cuddly boyfriends.

cuddles and kisses and loving attention always make them feel better, a surefire way to get them to actually rest is by snuggling them. but even if you do go for a bit, what brightens them up is hearing about all the new happenings on base or this cute dog you saw or if you bring them new snacks every day or try making something different for dinner. like, not just to placate them, but cause you know they're bored and uncomfortable and you want to cheer them up, that's what gets them. and then they'll pull you down and hold you for the rest of the night.

[h0neyjaehyun]

☁︎ 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 ☁︎

Summary // Tali finally meets dream outside of training, in the first day of school.

Characters // Tali Flores + Haechan Lee + Jeno Lee + Mark Lee + Na Jaemin + Bang Chan ( ft. Allen, Song-ho, Karma )

Era / Year // August 2014

Word Count //

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ //mention of Drunk, and Slight suggestion of bullying

"TALIA WAKE UP!" Chan yelled knocking at her door vigorously.

"IM AWAKE IM ALMOST DONE CHRISTOPHER WAIT!" She yelled putting her notebook in her bag and going through the door. Her brother went out of town for a photoshoot and Chan was left to pick her up her brother not wanting her to go on the bus alone with a bunch of creeps.

"Im here im here lets go." She said grabbing Chans arm and dragging him out the door while Chan was trying to grab his sandwich he was making for himself.

"Okay okay." He said getting in the drivers seat, and Tali got in the other side. He drove them to school.

"So how is training going?" He asked while waiting for the red light to turn green

"Its going okay so far, I've made some friends." She said, looking out the window, she's only really made guy friends and can't really relate to the shopping and gossip the girls have but has made a couple. But she has had made friends in Jyp girls because of Chan like Sana, which she was glad. But mostly guys.

"Thats good, no one is picking on you right?" Chan said sensing something off.

"No, no one." She said, which was true but not? Many girls like Jaemin and Jeno and wanted Tali to stay away since there's not doubt she is pretty, so they would make side comments but nothing much so far.

"Yeah, in that case I'm going to visit and pick you up...." Chan then looked at her straight in the eye.

"Personally." He said in a monotone voice.

"Nooooo-"

"Yessss, Butterfly, I care for you, and want you safe. And I know how you are with telling me this stuff." He said parking, she smiled at the nickname she has picked up. He turned to her and huffed.

"And you may be good at lying...but not to me." He said ruffling her hair. She sighed.

"You are to good Christopher...to good." She continued while steping out the car.

"Yeah yeah go, I have an early class, see you later." He said running off, she shook her head at him while walking to the library to grab a book and go to the roof to read.

She went to the library smiling to the people she makes eye contact with. She got to the library but not before catching a familiar guy's eye. Tali walked down the isle looking at fantasy books, when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned around making eye contact with a cute boy with an eye smile.

"Oh- hi Jeno." She whispered, since it is a library. He giggled now realizing he is in a library.

"Hi Talia, how are you?" He smiled at her.

"Im doing good, but uh what brings you to the library? No offense its just...you don't seem like the reader." Shs said turning slightly looking over at the books still on her goal it grab a book.

"Well, you're not wrong totally wrong, but I saw you and I haven't seen you outside of training much so I thought we could start hanging out more?" He said scratching the back of his head. Tali smiled at him.

"Of course...wait are the other guys here?" She asked realizing he is probably not alone. He nodded and grabbed her hand about to take her to them.

"Ah wait-"

"Hm?"

She grabbed a book she like, jogged to the check out section with Jeno slowly following her, chuckling.

"Okay, now we can go." She said, he nodded and walked ahead of her and she followed with her book close to her chest.

They turned a corner to see Mark, Jaemin, Haechan hanging out on the window.

"Hey guys look who I found." Jeno said getting everyone's attention. Jaemin reacted first.

"HI Taliii." He said with a big smile on his face going for a hug which she recuperated.

"Hi Jaemin... Hi guys." She giggled.

"Hi Talia." The other two smiled at her.

"Your a first year right?" Mark asked. Talia nodded.

"Ah so you are with us, Haechan said bringing his arm around Jeno."

"What class do you have?" Jaemin asked.

"Mr.Gwon" She said looking at her phone.

"Oh nice I have Mr.Gwon too." Haechan said smiling at her.

"Thats good."

"Hey Tali do you want to have lunch with us?" Jaemin asked.

"Ah sorry I-"

"TALIIII" They turned to the loud voice to see couple quite popular students which are Allen, Karma, and Hyunjin. They were surprised at the calling of her name while she winced at the sound.

"Sorry, I'm gonna eat with a couple of friends, but how about tomorrow?" She asked trying to make a compromise.

"No yeah thats fine." Mark smiled at her .

"Ah ok-"

"TALI HURRY UP.!"

"IM GOING!" She smiled apologetically and ran to the group while waving bye at the boys.

"Hyung she knows them?" Jeno asked Mark, and Mark shrugged.

"Yeah she does." A voice said coming out of no where, they turned to see Daehwi. They smiled at him and he smiled back.

"How so?" Haechan asked, he knew those 3 were popular but how do they know Talia since she seems so reserved and doesn't have that much confidence to talk to people, how would she talk to the popular students.

"You know Aruem?" He asked them, they all nodded.

"Well thats Talia." All their eyes widen.

"Wait so you are telling me, Tali is Aruem...like the girl who can charm many guys without even trying?" Haechan asked in disbelief, yeah sure Talia was pretty but he didn't think Talia was popular, or the girl the students named Aruem. Aruem is like a Korean name that the males in the school picked for her since she is pretty.

Daehwi nodded.

"But I heard rumors that she was stuck up and stuff but then the guys are like she is such a sweetheart?" Mark said confused.

"No she is a sweetheart, its just some girls are jealous." Daehwi clarified. The made :0 faces, thinking it did make sense since they do see Tali helping people so why would she be stuck up.

Time pasted and it was now lunch time, they saw Tali walk over to some of the popular students with some older guys that messed up her hair.

"Hyung?" Mark looked at Haechan and hummed.

"Do you think we will be that close to Tali?" He asked in wonder. Marked looked at Tali then him.

"I hope so." After awhile they talked amongst themselves, while with Tali she excused herself wanting to talk to the boys so they know she does want to be friends and also to show Chan she has friends. She walked over and sat next to Mark, he looked at her with a surprise look.

"What? Is there something on my face?" She asked. He shook his head no.

"I just wasnt expecting you to come over since you are quite popular." He said with a matter a fact tone. She shook her head.

"I personally don't care if I'm popular, I'm only popular because of my looks I acknowledge that but doesn't mean I dont want to hang out with my friends." She said softly putting her head on her crossed arms on the table. Everyone in that table went soft for her since her cheeks were squished like a she was a little puppy.

"We are your friends?" Jaemin asked.

"Well, I hope so." Talis said with a little fear they didn'twant to be. Thats until they smiled with glee, she felt relief wash over her.

"Looks like Aruem over here made herself some friends." She froze at the voice and groaned.

Allen came up from behind and wrapped his arm around her shoulder looking at the boys observing. He came over because he just wanted to see if the boys wanted be her friends, or just because she is pretty since many guys do and want to take advantage of her kindness.

"Hello my name is Allen very nice to meet you guys, but I have to take this beauty away and pick up our friend from middle school." He said slowly dragging taking Talia to the exit, she waved bye at them smiling apologetically as they waved bye back.

"How can you be friends with her, oppa?" Heejin asked as she walked up to the boys with her four minions friends in the hallway. Heejin was always a bully and tried to bring Tali down since she was popular for her looks. The girl was jealous, but most people in the school / grade knew Tali as a sweet person, so they took what she said like a grain of salt.

"Who?" Jeno asked raising an eyebrow at her knowing her reputation.

"Talia, the girl who sat next to Mark oppa." She said, disarmingly sweet. Mark grimaced at the act.

"What do you mean by why we are friends with her?" Haechan asked, observing her and remembering what Daewhi said about girls being jealous.

"Well she is such a bitch outside of school, especially in practice room. She is so stuck up." She said with a matter of fact tone, but with a high pitched voice. Jaemin looked at her with a grimace face getting annoyed at her nice act.

"Really?" Mark asked knowing damn well thats not true since some girls that are not jealous of her and befriended her told the guys she is really shy and sweet.

"Yes, she always made rumors about me and-" was cut off when Chan and Song-ho turned the corner raise their eyebrows at them.

"Would you like to finish that?" Chan asked.

"Oppa, its not what it looks like I would never-"

"Shut up, please you always talk bad about her but most of the students that know her know its not true, and you are just telling them because they don't come to school a lot because of training and don't know her." Song-ho glared at her. She was speechless, embarrassment filled her. She made a fist and glared at Song-ho and walked away with her minions friends.

"Sorry you had to hear that." Chan said changing up his whole demeanor walking up to them.

"Its fine we know its not true." Haechan smiled at them.

"Good, Talia is a sweet girl, she likes to talk about you guys and how she hopes to be good friends." Song-ho said with a reassuring smile.

"Really?" Jaemin asked surprised.

"Yeah, but we gotta go, see yea." Chan said quickly looking at his phone, they walked away quickly. Song-ho looked at him weird.

"Aye,whats wrong?" He said worried.

"It's Talia's dad." He said getting in his car.

"He's drunk again."

[justcallmenikki7]

Reassurance: Min Yoongi

Summary: Your boyfriends worries sets Suga, his alter ego, and you are the only one who can reassure him that you are never going to leave

Warnings: split!au, mentions of murder, mafia au so whats new lmao, fluff, and anxiety??

Notes: My goal for this reaction is to have it more realistic.. at first i wanted to write something different and more badass, but Split Personality is a real mental disorder and is something that is rare. I am doing research on it since it is something that really intrigues me. Not all of my reactions for a split au will be this .. idk, but my goal as a writer is to write something that is realistic but at the same time imaginative. 

Waking up to a phone call from Namjoon, your boyfriends second in command, asking for you to come to the base because Suga was out, was not one of the best ways to wake up too. Why? Because it takes a lot to get Suga clear minded and not on a murdering spree. If you were wondering, no he does not kill his own men, he just goes to the dungeons and tortures the ones who hold information.

Sighing, you put your hair up into a pony tail because you knew that the next few hours will be hectic. As you walked through the doors of the base, you could see some of his gang members sitting quietly at the table, working on whatever work that your boyfriend assigned them. They knew not to do anything that requires them to talk to their boss since they do not want to be in the path of his wrath.

Namjoon was leaning on the wall beside the doors that lead to your boyfriend’s office, texting someone on his phone (probably his boyfriend Seokjin). Once he was that it was you walking up to him, the man released a heavy sigh, “He has not stopped destroying his office the past hour. I already have had Taehyung order one of everything in that office to be replaced.” Namjoon told you, rolling his eyes at your boyfriends’ actions.

As you were going to ask what caused your boyfriend to act this way, Namjoon had already beat you to it. “Truthfully, I do not know what set Yoongi off to have Suga come to the surface. I remember you saying how it has been a while since Suga has appeared, but this is … worse than ever before. He literally went and killed one of our suspects down at the dungeon because he said your name in the wrong one. No torture or anything.”

Eyes wide, jaw dropped opened slightly, the information was not what you were suspecting. Usually, Suga is much more controlled and not this destructive by a small action. Without saying anything, you nodded your head at Namjoon as a silent thanks and walked past him to get to your boyfriend. Opening the door, you cautiously made yourself present to your boyfriend.

“Suga, it’s me.” You called out, wincing when you heard another glass break. After that, you heard footsteps comes towards the door. Without warning, your boyfriend pulled you into the office and slam the door shut, causing you to jump from surprise.

“Who called you?” Was the first question Suga asked you.

“Namjoon.” You stated, looking up at your boyfriend, frowning at the anger that is apparent on his face.

“I told him not to call you.”

“Well, Im glad that he did because of your current state. Love, you should not trash your office out of anger, we built that safe room for a reason, so you won’t severely hurt yourself. Look at you! You’re bleeding on your hands and you have a cut under your eye! What if glass got into your eye!” You stressed out, upset that your boyfriend was too angry to notice his injuries. You are happy that it is not as bad like it was a year ago, but him hurting himself in general upsets you.

“I’m fine, baby. Its nothing new.” He rolled his eyes, but a small smile on his face showing that he has at least calmed down a bit.

Huffing, you brought your hands to his face to inspect the scratch underneath his right eye. “What set you off anyways, you haven’t been out in a while…” you softly asked, wiping away some of the blood with your thumb. You could tell that the question made him go back to his reserved side. “And don’t you dare try keeping this from me because this is serious.”

Biting his lip, he looked away from you before looking right into your eyes, “You know how Yoongi gets when he’s vulnerable – he worries and overthinks. Well, lately he has been keeping me away because he worries that you will someday leave him because of, basically, me. He is worried that you see him as a freak and shit, which is false. But him continuing to speak negatively soon started to have me think the same way and I just lost it.”

Sighing, you looked down with your eyes closed, trying to process his words. After a minute you finally spoke up, “Yes, dating someone who has an ‘alter ego’ or, ‘Dissociative identity Disorder’ is something that is a lot since it is rare, and also challenging. I do not know how it is for you both mentally, but I know you are you. I do sometimes get worried because I literally do not know what to do in certain situations, but I do know that I love you both. I love Yoongi just as much as I love you. You are Yoongi’s better half while he is yours. You both balance each other out. I love you both so much that I would not want to have it any other way.” You stated firmly, giving your boyfriend a teary smile.

“Really?” this time Yoongi asked, causing you to choke on a sob.

“Really. Leaving you has never crossed my mind, Yoongi. You’re my everything.”

At your promise, Yoongi let out a few tears before throwing himself in your arms, needing to feel your affection and mentally reassure himself that you are there. And this is why you love both Yoongi and Suga. Yoongi is the softer one of the duo where as Suga is the more rougher one, but still loving as ever.

[drethanramslay]

Gone with the wind

Pairing: Rafael x MC( Addison Jones)

Word count: 1.5 K words (this is a short one, I'm sorry)

masterlist 

Taglist: @miyakokurono​ @trappedinfandoms​ @openheart12​ @sekizincimektup​ @x-kyne-x​ @paulfwesley​ @zeniamiii​ @an-urban-witch-ig​ @ramseyegerton​ @noboundariesplease​ @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey​ @newcolonies​ @theodorepjames4​ @unluckygs​ @choices-love-affair​ @kaavyaethanramsey​  @caseyvalentineramsey​ @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq​  @junehiratas​ @lilyvalentine​ @nooruleman​  @agent-breakdance​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @choicesfanaf​ @temptress-of-death-and-desire @ac27dj @oofchoices @mrsdrakewalkerblog @livingpurpose @humanpokemon @chaotic-ramsay-queen​ @oofchoices​ @ohramsey​(let me know if you want to added or removed froth tag list)

Warning: angst and swearing and im apologising before hand if there are any mistakes. its 2 am in the night so :P

Songs: Don't leave by MØ and Before you go by Lewis Capaldi

It had been an eventful day.

From seeing Kyra collapse in her pool of blood, to spoon-feeding Elijah's intern, to having a wild cat and mouse chase in Mass Kenmore it was crazy indeed. Addison has had five heart attacks and six meltdowns in just a span of 12 hours which left her tired physically and mentally.

But you got to see Rafael for like five minutes, so that's a good thing right? he inner ever-optimistic conscience pointed out which made her smile.

Even though they chose to remain friends, anybody within a five mile radius could sense the palpable tension between the two. The lingering gazes, the long hugs and the occasional kisses on the forehead spoke volumes.

Addison fucking knew that he wasn't happy with Sora.

Hell since the time she knew that Addison was his ex, the fights have started increasing in frequency. Initially, Sora would hang out with the group and during those times, when Raf wasn't looking her way, the death glares that were sent her way, left Addy feeling uneasy.

And that was just the beginning.

There were times when she would shout at Rafael incoherently and the sweetheart that Raf is, would listen to her 'concerns' and try different ways to make her happy. Be it by taking her out on cute dates or by showering her with cute presents or swooning surprises. Addy wasn't even aware about this entire fiasco because they pretended to be couple goals. She only got to know when they had gone out fo beers on the nights of the softball game.

He is such a good actor... Addy thought to herself as she entered the lift and pressed the fifth floor, comfortable in the blue scrubs.

The patient poaching was a wild ride in Mass Kenmore and it was overwhelming. Addy had still not come down from her high, the lingering effects of adrenaline making her restless. Ethan tricking Tobias, Baz imitating Zaid and the run in with Aurora was too much.

I swear I need to have one bottle of wine asap. Addy thought has her shoulders ached, a knot forming due to the excessive stress.

She entered room 532 to see Bryce sitting by Kyra, holding her hand and giving her a reassuring smile.

"Hey there K-bear. Gave me quite a scare this morning, huh?" Addy sat by her side and pulled her frail body into a long bear hug.

"Hey Big A. I heard the you had quite the Fast and Furious chase scene today, huh?" Kyra said with a weak smile.

"You wouldn't even believe it Kyra! It was so exhilarating and equal parts terrifying."

"Give me all the deets but before that.." Kyra glanced at Bryce and he gave another encouraging nod. "I'm sorry for being a her to you Addy."

Addison stopped her before she got sucked into the whirlpool of guilt. "No, don't be. I rather you vent all your anger out on me if, its giving you the courage to keep fighting." Kyra gave a huge smile and hugged Addy again. Addy's eyes fell on Bryce. "So Bryce, have you thought of the treatment plan?"

"Yes. So we are gonna do an extensive surgery.." For the next fifteen minutes, Bryce explained the complete plan for the surgery along with the pros and cons, and Addy listened to him with rapt attention.

"So what do you think Big A? Do you think this is a good plan?" Kyra asked with puppy eyes.

"Kyra, if Bryce said its a good idea, I have complete faith in him. You couldn't have had a better surgeon on your side." Bryce gave a grateful smile.

"Thanks Big A. You are the best."

Witnessing the exchange between Kyra spoke up with a mischievous smile. "You know, I remember when you two were clueless little interns fighting over who got to treat me."

"Clueless?!" Addison eyes bugged out.

"Little?!" Bryce clutched his chest out of horror.

Ignoring the offended looks Kyra smiled. "I'm glad that I have you both on my side." Addy gave a soft smile and reached to squeeze her hand, Bryce following suit.

"We aren't going anywhere." Bryce spoke. Addison looked up and she saw Rafael standing outside with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Their eyes met and Addy's heartbeat spiked up.

Bidding goodbye, she headed out and closed the door softly behind her.

"Hey Addy." Rafael spoke with a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He opened his arms and Addison walked into the warm embrace. She breathed in his minty cologne and suddenly all the distress of the day washed away.

He is like healing salve to my wounds.

"Hey Raf." She said as she stepped back to look at him.

"How is she doing?" Rafael asked as he waved at her. Kyra waved back enthusiastically.

"She is doing as fine as she can."

"Aren't we all?" Raf said as he looked down at her.

The memory of their previous encounter entered her head and she remembered. "What did you wanna talk about, superman?"

Raf's eyes averted and suddenly found interest in staring at his sneakers.

"No its nothing-" Raf began but Addy, turned him towards her, so that his brown orbs could meet her turquoise ones.

"Raf... I know that look. Its the look which you have when I caught you eating my M&M stash. Tell me, whats wrong?"

"I- I am leaving town."

Addison took a sharp intake of breathe. Panic started churning in her chest as she tried to calm herself. "How long?"

Silence followed which in itself, gave an answer to her.

"Rafael fucking answer me! How long will you be gone?!" Addy's eyes were tearing up and Rafael dragged her into the near by supply closet.

"Don't fucking touch me until you answer my damn question." She exclaimed.

"I..I don't know." Rafael stammered out.

Addison eyes widened and she immediately started rambling. "Where are you going? I am getting an off for the next three days. We could go together and chill and enjoy. You don't need to-"

Rafael gripped her shoulders stopping her. "Addison, I bought a one way ticket."

Do you ever feel trapped or frozen as you see the entire basis of your reality fall apart? That sheer hopelessness and the need to fix it, but you can't?

That's how Addison felt.

"No... Rafael you can't do this! Your friends, your girlfriend, your grandma and your job, is all here!! Boston is your life and you have always wanted to stay here and serve the community-"

"I want a change in pace, can you blame me?" Rafael said crossing his arms, his jaw clenching .

Addison's eyes blazed, the turquoise eyes, turning icy. She looked up at his towering height and poked his chest. "Don't for a moment think that I am going to fucking believe that sorry excuse Rafael Aveiro. I have dated you for seven fucking months and I know you inside out. You may forget or lie to yourself about us, but I damn well know you."

"So look me in the eyes and tell me the fucking truth."

"How can I tell you the truth when you are part of the reason I am leaving?" Rafael said through clenched teeth.

Addy was shocked and speechless. "Me? What the fuck did I do?I literally have been the most supportive person-" she managed to choke out before she was interrupted by him.

"Can't you fucking see it Addison?! I have a fucking girlfriend but I am still, like a fucking idiot, completely and utterly in love with you?! Everyday is a fucking tug of war between you and Sora and its ripping me in shreds. I am loosing all my sanity and to top this, I don't have a fucking job to go where I can just forget everything. I am fucking tired and I need room to breathe."

I am completely and utterly in love with you... That love confession was the best thing she had ever heard, but also like a slap on the face.

"Oh."

"Yes 'oh'. So that's why I have decided that I am going to yeet myself out of this hellish situation and start afresh." Raf said with so much determination that it felt like a stab in the heart.

"Rafael you don't need to do that, please. I'm begging you." Addison pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "You are the only good in this entire city. I- I will cease all contact with you until you get your head straight, as much as it hurts you. But please, please don't leave the city. I need you Raf."

"Addison, if I stay here... I-I can't last another day." He said painfully.

A violent sob shuddered through Addison and Rafael's eyes softened. He wrapped his arms around her as cries racked through her entire body. "I'm so sorry sweetheart... You don't deserve this shit I put you through..."

"Raf..."

"I know that I am leaving now. But if I do come back, be it one month or a day, I promise you that I will make you mine... that is if you still want me." he said, his voice cracking as he ran a hand through her blonde hair.

The embrace got over as soon as it started. She stepped back and cupped his cheek and smiled through her tears. "Rafael... there won't be a single day when I can ever stop loving you. I promise that."

"Me too sweetheart... me too."

[maddiesup]

Tag game!

I was tagged by @ohbabycupcakes thank u💖

RULES: Name 10 favorite characters from 10 different things then tag 10 people + leave comments on all of them

This is gonna be hard, where do I even start?

1) Keith (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Okay I'm- trying not to laugh too hard because oh boy, this show was a complete mess. BUT Keith still stays as one of my favorite characters ever just because no matter how badly I was hurt by vld he'll always be precious to me 💖 He's hotheaded, cool and a lone wolf, but needs affection more than anyone else on the team. He's easy for me to relate to as I am more likely to push someone away than to keep them close just to avoid being hurt as well. His development is amazing tho and I love love him so much 😭 also it might be just that I have a soft spot for emo characters lmao

2) Todoroki Shoto (Boku no Hero Academia)

This just reinforces my statement earlier since Todoroki is pretty emo too :') But in a different way than Keith. If you are a part of bnha fandom you know he's generally a little bit overrated, but I couldn't help falling in love with him at first sight anyway lol His backstory is tragic but he keeps pursuing his dream and damn is he good at it. Also the combo of fire and ice is aesthetic goals. However, what I admire the most about Shoto is probably his loyalty to his friends, his will to fight and sometimes his goofy attitude (even if he probably isn't aware that he's being goofy lol) In conclusion: I love him, let's move on.

3) Uenoyama Ritsuka (Given)

Can I just stop to say how much I love given for a moment? Like I've never seen a bl anime/manga that would portray gay characters so respectfully 😭❤️ Ue is basically me gay panicking, I feel the boy so much :') OH also what's up with gays & guitars bc first given, then why r u and now also 2gether :') (I might be falling in love with this trope help) okay so: Ue is panicking when he starts liking Mafuyu but he handles it so well in a way? He doesn't deny his crush even if he is slow to notice it lol He's straightforward and sometimes a little bit rough around the edges, but even if he's supposed to be "the cool guy" we see him in the most hilarious settings and that just makes me love him all the more 💖 he respects Mafuyu and his boundaries and I want more of that in bl anime please

4) Eiji & Ash (Banana Fish)

Uhhhh this anime,,, I CANNOT choose between Ash and Eiji, I'm gonna forever see them as a pair and that's simply it. Ash is another emo one I would like to say that but he's actually not. He's backstory is heartbreaking and the life he has to live is dangerous and scary. He gets used to this reality where he has no one to rely on and no one to trust but then Eiji appears tearing his walls down and making him finally be able to show his soft and sensitive side to someone. Eiji is like a salve for his wounds and yes, I'm still emotional about it bc their relationship is one of the best developped I've ever seen. Their bond is so strong it's beautiful, they would literally die for each other. It's so apparent that they love each other and care for each other so much (don't mind me crying in the corner)

5) Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

PJ technically got me into fantasy/sci-fi in elementary school and it stays at the top of my favorite book series list ever (big props to Uncle Rick 👏) The whole series is funny and I would say pretty light-hearted even tho you know,,, Percy saves the world several times, lol, usual demigod things™. He's lovable. Son of Poseidon so he has seaweeds instead of a brain (or so you thought, he is brilliant at strategic planning and has a charisma to be a great leader), has a very good sense of humor, is loyal and would risk everything for his friends. Also he loves his girlfriend very much and I was crying while reading the House of Hades but no one needed to know that oh well. I'm also gonna mention Nico de Angelo here, since he fell in love with Percy (didn't we all tho) and was the first gay character I saw portrayed in the book and oh do I love him 😭💖

6) 707 (Mystic Messenger)

Was I losing sleep over this game? I was. Do I regret anything? Absolutely not. I think my choices are pretty boring tho, since Seven is literally everyone's favorite but oh boy there's a reason for that. Apart from being a talented hacker who knows too much (and I think is cautious of us the most at the start) he has a lovely happy-go-lucky personality composed of all the lame jokes, questions "have you eaten already" and anxiety (another emo one). He's that type of a character who will always try to make you laugh but you never know what's going on inside his head. He's mysterious and we don't get to know him well till his route so pretty much till the end of the game lol. Also he loves his brother, phd pepper, honey buddha chips and Elizabeth 3rd the most in this entire world and I love him for that

7) Evan Hansen (Dear Evan Hansen)

ANOTHER EMO ONE okay but hear me out Evan has social anxiety and its portrayal is almost too real for me. He makes a big oopsie which at the start seems like a little innocent lie but then snowballs to enormous sizes. He gains everything in this bargain, a best (dead) friend, a caring mother, a father, a girlfriend even - and then everything falls apart since it all is built on one fat lie. He makes a lot of mistakes and then some more but you get it and you feel for him, and you cry with him and you're happy for him. And when all of this is over you're glad that he's still there trying his best, taking it one day at a time. And sidenote: Ben Platt's voice is angelic and I love him as Evan 💖💖💖

8) Isak (SKAM)

Another gay panicking one. I'm starting to realize there's a set of traits that I particularly like in fictional characters lol But ye, when I was watching skam ofc it was the third season which gripped me the most and kept me on the edge, bc yet again Isak taking an "are you gay" test was way too real for me. He makes a lot of mistakes along the way of figuring out his sexuality and sometimes stuff with Evan becomes really messy (for both of them) but he stays with him nevertheless ❤️ Skam is literally so good in its portrayal of the characters :') Anyways: alt er love 💖

9) Viktor & Yuuri (Yuri on Ice)

Em, another one that I absolutely can't break up to just one bc how could I? Yuri on ice got me into skating ❤️ I went to an ice rink for the first time bc of this anime and I almost died but now look at me actually finishing my first three months of ice skating training and watching real life figure skating competitions :') Little did I know then. But they're not only my favourites bc of that, I genuinely love the development of their relationship from fan - idol through skater - couch to lovers and history makers in the end. I love how Yuuri is a ball of insecurities and how Viktor manages to reassure him. I love how Viktor fell in love with drunk Yuuri clinging to him. I love how at first Yuuri wasn't able to get too close to Viktor without getting flustered and it changes so drastically to them basically always holding onto each other. I love how Viktor was stuck with no inspiration but then Yuuri came and turned his world upside down. I love how they support and respect each other. I could probably go on into eternity like that and Yuri on ice isn't even the best anime I've ever seen but it's certainly my favourite one ❤️

10) Tutor (WHY R U)

I can't believe I'm so obsessed with thai dramas rn and I'm only gonna include Tor on this list smh He's mental attitude inspires me. He's able to hold so much and appears totally unfazed even if he's barely holding on inside. He's hardworking and doesn't want others to pity him since he can manage it all just fine. He has a kind heart, he's a wonderful friend (especially to Hwa, he always listens to her, gives her pieces of advise, supports her and tries to cheer her up). He never forgets to say thank you when he genuinely feels grateful. But as we've seen he also is passionate and when he loves he LOVES. Also he's the biggest tease to Fighter and I love him for that :') I am so satisfied just by seeing him happy, please do not change that whyru gods 🙏

As it appears I'm done .-. I have no idea what have just happened and if my rambling even makes sense but not that I care at this point. If you read this far, please drink some water now, that was a lot of reading to go through ❤️

Tagging: @wir-ro, @saecookie and any other 8 people who might want to ksks (im too tired to tag lmao)

Don't be like me and go to bed at reasonable hours despite this whole quarantine thing .-. thank again Doreen for tagging since it was really fun 🥺❤️

[birdlingstarot]

tl✨🐉 here to give more details!! the dreams have essentially followed me traveling and taking stops in places deep in nature with all sorts of my friends and acquaintances. i remember knowing that there was something i had to do, a reason for my travels. one of the dreams had me spending time with a love interest im unfamiliar with. these dreams leave me feeling almost relieved and excited during the day. i hope that makes sense!!

Hello  🌻 tl✨🐉!

Really sorry for the long wait. I really hope you did remember or had some reminisce of your dreams. 😅 They sound so amazing and fun! I’m really happy and glad to hear that your dreams gave you great vibes and energy during the day, I hope you will continue to dream about those that will give you positive energy! 🤗🤗🤗

A little birdie told me this 🕊

What is the significance of your dreams?

4 of Wands, 9 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, Knight of Pentacles, Knight of Swords, 6 of Swords, 2 of Wands, Queen of Cups, Queen of Swords, 5 of Wands, XXI - The World

You are in a very creative and passionate mindset and could even be considered one of the higher peak in creativity thus far in your life. You exude a jolly attitude as you go through life which in turn attracted people to you, enforcing your social connections. It feels as though everything is going fine, well and dandy, that nothing can stop you from achieving or getting what you want and that’s true. 

However, you had attained much and is at risk of suffocating yourself by yourself and/or the things you had attained. It is time for careful consideration on whether you should pursue a particular goal / thing or if they are really worth it as well as if there would be a need to let go of what you currently have in order to attain what you desire. 

In addition, look at the things you had attained and determine if they had overstayed their welcome/stay. Had they served their purpose such as making you happy? Is it time to let them go? There might be a risk of stagnation within what you had attained, such as knowledge you learnt but did not tap into as well as physical things or relationships. It might also be time to clear the clutter in your room. Take the time to tidy up your room and separate the things that you don’t need or want from those that you do. Appreciate and thank those that you plan to let go and go through with it.

Make sure to slow down and appreciate what you have as well as to see things as how there are, especially the big picture. It is good that you are motivated and passionate but remember to put on brakes in order to reduce and/or avoid the chance of being burnt out and/or a crash. 

Generally speaking, it is a period of contentedness and there is a low to none chance of anything too bad to come from it. 

This could also signify a connection with your soulmate, twin flame or potential life partner. The both of you are in a state of contentedness and had connected with each other. One of you (the more feminine energy) has likely discovered one or more of her passion and is doing it while the other (the more masculine energy) has likely achieved a long-term financial or more materialistic goal of his - this can be anything from monetary to family improvements. Kinda like a small, light breeze that blew pass the both of you, carrying the message and reassurance to the other that you are doing just fine.

You had likely experienced a tough time and the dreams are indicating to you that they had finally passed, that you are able to shake off their hold on you. You had gained a total and impartial view, transformed and ready to overcome what had happened and should grab the opportunities (there are quite a few) that are presented in front of you as you are capable of dealing with it currently. This ‘tough time’ do not in fact need to be recent but rather something that had been weighing on you and you are now finally letting it go, learning and moving forward in your life. 

You are and had been a very resilient worker, practical and taking initiative. You could be seen as egocentric and unconcerned with others’ feelings as long as you achieve your goal. However, it is that that aided you in overcoming your negative situation, to be confident and not let others influence your decision on what’s best for you. (As much as it can do you good in unfavourable situations and relationships, it should not bleed into your more favourable ones.) You could also be easily be caught between laziness and indifference, lacking passion and motivation, which is all the more reason to grab at the opportunities presented in front of you while you are in the state of high motivation and passion, even if it is just your heart telling you to do so. Don’t let your fear stop you from pursuing your passion.

Currently, you are very active and ready to overcome whatever’s thrown your way whether it is a fight or a challenge from others or from yourself, your own mind, fears etc. This came from the passion and peak in the creativity juice mentioned initially. Due to this, you are able to realise your limitations as well which is likely linked to impetuosity. In this state, remember to communicate clearly and calmly with others your ideas, views and opinions as in this state, you are prone to spikes in being sharp-tongued and negative emotions such as anger and resort to arguments. Keep calm and talk it out, understand each other and compromise, find a middle ground and reduce any unnecessary arguments. 

It is a time for you to distance yourself and face change. Is there anything new you want to try? Is there a change in environment? Friend group? Certain personal views and values? There’s a move towards new ideas and/or solutions to things and you are intelligent and in a good position to direct, shift and adapt to the changes. Changes are needed to avoid stagnation, dissatisfaction or even instability. This is the time to take on a new and exciting adventure, to try new things and explore. This does not mean that you abandon all that you had been doing but rather taking on all that you had learnt onto your new adventure. A chapter of your life has passed and a new one is opening for you. It is a happy moment and something to celebrate! Enjoy yourself on this journey of a new chapter despite what you might face. This could very well be a shift towards the direction of your passion and your guided path in this life. This is also related to the second and third paragraph regarding stagnation of what you had acquired etc.

However, due to this change, a rivalry of two opposing forces may arise due to an accumulation of desires from both parties. This could be a rebelling against the limitations imposed on you by a third party as you are protecting what you believe in and/or what you are passionate about. This situation could bring regrets, radical changes, surprises and even positive unexpected events. Before making your move, evaluate what is the best course of action to reduce/prevent the rise or continued rise of conflict and rivalry which would cause you restlessness and unhappiness. 

Currently, you are represented by the Queen of Cups. You are very well capable of spreading affection and spontaneity. You are maternal and intuitive, you can completely trust your intuition during this period which further encourages you to reach out for the opportunities presented in front of you during this period if you so wished after careful consideration on your part. 

However, at the same time, you are at risk of becoming a attractive and dangerous person, dishonest and capable of creating misunderstandings and scandals. Remember to stay true to yourself and be honest with others. Refrain from lying to get what you desire in the short-term, rather build a trustworthy long-term relationship with the person you spoke to. If you do not wish to share or talk about certain things, instead of making up a lie to cover up or get out of the situation, simply explain that you are not comfortable or need more time to yourself before speaking to them about it.

You are in a very positive, healing state and emotionally fulfilled. As giving as you can be, you could become unintentionally insensitive to others as you are at a high point in your life. This is something you should be careful of to reduce potential conflict which results in restlessness and unhappiness and connected to the eighth paragraph regarding being seen as egocentric and unconcerned with others’ feelings. 

The dreams are an indication and even a preparation for this new chapter in your life. In this new chapter, there will be something unexpected and positive that will occur which brings about new desires, adventure, projects and successes. You should be clear about the actual situation in order to choose the most honest way to face this new and brilliant project and you are in fact guided to it. This could very well be related to finding your passion or your path to your passion and this is just the first spark. This will be a new and exciting adventure, prepare yourself! 😁 [There is a mischievous energy in the air, so be sure to learn and let go of negative impacts on yourself despite its source, get up and face the chapter with a child-like innocence and curiosity. Just because you are growing up, does not mean that you must lose that child-like attitude completely. Enjoy and have fun!]

In this new chapter, you are learning to tap into the Queen of Swords energy which is the personification of an ideal of wisdom, intelligence and brilliance, matured from delusions, privations or from problems that had been dealt with and overcame. Experiences, whether good or bad, served as an enrichment not as a motive for vendetta or wickedness. Remember that your experiences will enable you to deal with and better manage whatever happens, directing it towards positive and constructive outcomes. Generally, being true to yourself, learn from your experiences and let go of any negative feelings you have towards anything or anyone. This will embody you in a confident and carefree energy which is enjoyable to you and the people around you and very attractive.

This journey is necessary towards the slow but constant and determined evolution towards success, fullness, towards one’s real personal and professional objectives, as if towards the discovery of a new balance at the peak of a cycle. You are protected and guided, undoubtedly. In this new chapter, there could be events that will alter the path and future of your life and you are being guided, so don’t worry. In this new chapter, you are to have fun and enjoy it. To improve and mature does not necessarily mean you have to go through extremely tough times. 

There’s a huge emphasis on fun and enjoyment and in this chapter, you are meant to do and experience that. Don’t worry too much about things or let things weigh you down for too long. It is tough but it is part of what you have to learn, to let go of things, to not take everything too seriously. This chapter has a main focus on your happiness as well as happiness through healing, communication, passion and the root of you, being the true you, finding the true you. 

Again, have fun, be happy and enjoy yourself on this journey!

I might even need to bold and capitalise them. 🤣

HAPPY. EXCITING. FUN. ENJOY.

We hope this had helped you, 🌻 tl✨🐉!

For now, the little birdie shall return home 🏡 ~ Ring our doorbell whenever!

Rest well 💤 ~

[valkyrieskwad]

ohmyGOD that chapter was just. so. softttt. gahh and heartbreaking and lena ugh i just wanna wrap her in the warmest hug. god thats what your words feel like. truly. like the warmest safest hugs even with the intense angst as soon as the comfort starts its like. everything. god ive beeennn where lena is. still go back there sometimes and kara being there and her reassurances. god even that scene with alex giving lena the hug. i had real tears reading this. beautiful. thank you doesnt even begin.

like i wanna ask about vamp fic because from afar im convinced its my fave of your wip rn and its h o t t but then i read that ch update of small town au and im like so emotionally fed. its so cathartic and beautiful and heartbreaking but like in a really necessary way and just wow. im so floored by the emotional intensity and intimacy you write. its beyond. im just. thank you god i literally think about your writing everyday. so good. god as soon as i make luthor money im giving it all to you

ohoh alsooo “I can want to have sex with you and want you to be happy at the same time, it’s not so hard. I can also recognize when waiting is better, okay? We can wait. I’ll wait for you.” god. i literally left this mortal plane of existence reading that. its perfect. youre perfect. any person that knows you irl and has the privileged of being your partner is blessed and im so happy for them to have such an emotionally intelligent person in their life and in the world. thank you forsharing this

ok .. ill stop with the spam now lol feel free to delete them im just in awe and flailing with the emotional response your writing evokes in me and just. all the heart eyes bud. thank you so much for being such a thoughtful person and then sharing this kind of healthy cathartic emotional growth and support with all of us. gives a bit of a model for a better way. and it gives support and comfort to those who are or have been there and didnt get that response and care the first time around. tysm

----

hi, this is maybe the sweetest thing ever. i’m not even sure what to say to this other than it makes me feel warm and fuzzy. i love writing them soft, i’ve been dying to write them soft haha, so i’m glad the story is finally in a place to start to make the transition. and i felt like the alex hug was really important because lena needs all of her tall, snack gfs to be on the same page–the one where they love her.

i’m not sure what you wanted to ask about the vamp fic, but lol um i haven’t had the attention span to write that the way i want to for a month almost, so i’m hoping i’ll get my shit together soon. i’m also excited that you’re ranking this story as highly as i do in my mind. 

i asked people irl, and they confirmed that’s true, so you may be on to something. verdict is still out, tho.

i’m really happy you’re enjoying the story, and it feels like something relatable/good. i always say my biggest goal is to write shit that feels mostly real, and hope m not failing massively in that. thanks so much for stopping by and being an absolute angel. you’re the actual best. happy holidays!

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

Fanon characterization of the Calypso twins between me and The Wild West Pyro: 

We both have the strong sinking feeling that the twins are slowly going to lose it as the game goes on, so here’s our collaborated analysis of the two:

I’ll be in non-cool text, while The Wild West Pyro will be in italics, for easier distinction between us. [There will be slight edits and changes for cohesion]

“It would be pretty interesting if we found out the Calypsos/the cult started out with 'good intentions'.”

“Hell, you can see the populism kicking in there.What did the writers say? Ah. "Your poor bandits! You're kicked around and nobody likes you, but we can give you a purpose in life! We can make you feel appreciated and loved!" [This is a reference to the Danny Homan interview] Something of that line.”

“oh yeah! the twins are also providing them with food and weaponry. i mean i can see why a bandit desperate for something better would follow them.”

“I'm guessing how this goes: The Twins start off by winning people over by talking about how they want Pandora to be finally at peace after endless war and giving the bandits a new life where they're treated like actual people. Then once they've got enough people, they say that the Raiders have to go, the corporations have to go, with the Vaults seized the universe will see no more war. Actually, I'm predicting rn that they have a very, very cult-like end goal in terms of IRL parallels.What if they choose to "cleanse" the universe with whatever power Tyreen possesses? And once everything standing in their way is gone, they can create this ideal utopian peaceful universe where there's no corporations and no more fighting. Meanwhile the Eridians are panicking because they know it's a doomed plan and the Vaults do not work like that.”

“[this is very much a] large scale Opportunity situation. literally reverse uno card as to what jack was attempting”

“Yep. Paradise for the common man bandit. OTL parallels to what usually sparks communist revolutions or popular revolutions in general. So yeah, Tyreen could very easily justify herself in that she genuinely wants to bring peace to the universe, with all means necessary. Of course, internally, the Twins just want to be gods and play at being them and hold onto their power as absolute rulers presiding over an eternally-grateful populace.”

“definitely sounds like two teenage cult leaders to me ngl. i could see them not being too secure in themselves (behind the vvv confident personas they put on) and constantly second guessing themselves and reassuring that they're doing this for everyone's own good even as things just keep getting worse and worse. could [have] a tie-in to whatever tragic backstory they might have”

“Yep and yep. And there's this internal fear that they don't know what being a god entails, if they'll lose sense of who they are or not... but put that aside. All for the greater good! I'm actually thinking about this. People note that the Twins are basically streamer critiques, which is a yes. But if you want to take them to serious universe-spanning villain territory, I think that they'll absorb the knowledge from Elpis at one point. And they start to become more detached and more frightening, and a lot more eloquent as they really start becoming gods in the BL sense. While still being narcissistic attention whores who actually like killing people off with their powers but pretend to act benevolent. Essentially, you have the Greek Gods except there's two Zeuses, one is a girl and they've both got all of Zeus's worst traits cranked up to eleven.”

“oh god are they gonna dick everything that moves? oh no... cover ava's eyes! joking aside, that sounds accurate. especially given the borderlands universe loves to tie in its greek mythology. also also i am glad someone else agrees the twins are going to elpis. i refuse to believe they'd destroy it/blow it up before going there for the info. that shit is valuable! especially if you want to convince people you're gods?? accurately predicting the future is insanely good for doing that! plus all the other cool shit you can do by knowing exactly what's going to happen.”

“It also makes the Twins much more dangerous if they can see every outcome...unfortunately, Lilith is very good at playing 4D Chess by now.”

“lilith, putting on her sunglasses and cracking her knuckles: it's time to show them what a real military organization can do. ellie is her hype woman with the drink and a towel. also also lilith is probably kicking herself for not being fast enough this time to punch the vault symbol into tyreen's face.”

“Honestly, I'd love Lilith to turn out to be this really crafty, really charismatic guerrilla warfare commander. Like an Innie leader but they're hypercompetent, not a terrorist and also have Keyes's sheer talent for analyzing battles and tactics and adapting accordingly. Lilith sitting up in Sanc-III being BL!Keyes except a lady and specializing in ground warfare would be sick.”

“yes. fucking. please. gearbox please give lily all the character development, your girl deserves it. im glad because it does seem like she's getting there when you crash land on Promethea. and even the way she handles herself on the bridge is very smooth and confident.”

“tfw you can see the future and, yet, the lady you robbed of her siren powers is outsmarting you 24/7, 365 days a year despite you being able to see the future. also you're trying to fight fate and desperate to change reality so that you can't lose like the future said you would. joke's on you, you cannot fight it.”

“There is no changing it. bonus points if ty only saw the very end, so she is utterly clueless on how the middle bits play out. so lilith is kicking her ass across elpis and she's like ‘this is NOT how i saw this going’.”

“I'd seriously imagine that life in BL corporate society really is like life in Rapture or Columbia. The upper class profits immensely and reaps all the best goods, but they refuse to do the dirty work themselves so they rely on this huge workforce who they constantly cheat, lie and exploit. The few achieve huge power and stuff at the expense of the many. Looking at the Twins in the parallels of how revolutions go, they'll basically go from recruiting the bandits to recruiting the huge lower class of every planet.  Looking at records from all the planets, we've got people being screwed over again and again, corruption and other nasties. The Twins claim that they want all corporations to go, to bring some form of unified government back to the galaxy. And it works- their army size quadruples overnight and goes from there. By the time we get to Promethea, the COV are already recruiting everyone dissatisfied with corporate life. If they successfully seize control of Maliwan like I predict, they'll be a force to be reckoned with. The Twins will use the masses to achieve some sort of theocratic revolution, [they] claim that it's all for everyone's good. But in reality, they want to be absolute rulers of the universe, gods worshipped and feared by all.”

“Oh yeah, the twins are definitely feeding (maybe literally) off the huge numbers of dissatisfied people across the universe- the mega corporations are evil, no doubt there are millions of people waiting for something better. tbh, if gaige wasn't booted from the main game, I could see a whole side story of her having started a revolution somewhere, and then joining up with the Crimson Raiders once her entire party just up and joined the CoV. And [I would] 100% bet the twins started a campaign against DAHL and Atlas and suddenly nearly every bandit on pandora joined up with them. (also Athena was sitting in a chair clutching at the armrests and janey was like "don't you fuckin dare, hon" and athena is like "but... Atlas...")”

[We talk more about Gaige’s anarchist revolution and trying to topple the mega corporations in a less cult-y fashion here]

“... Bonus points 2: The COV fire up the memories of Jack to rally everyone into opposing Hyperion and suddenly Athena is like "OK I'm not going, mobilize the army." And Janey is like ‘Here we go...’.”

[we joke around a little bit more about Athena and Janey here]

“I can imagine Rhys's internal conflict, knowing that he has to make the galaxy a better place but at the same time, maintain his corporate power and control because without it, he's doomed. Then again, Rhys is no stranger to doing shady stuff. I think a lot of the Twins's evil will be in how they treat their followers.There's all the smooth-talking and promises of the future. And then when you actually get there, you're brainwashed into being another unthinking, 100% loyal attack dog for them. And you follow everything they ask you to do for 100%, even if they use you for power experiments or cannon fodder. And the game will remind us that these people weren't all bandits - over the course of the story, the COV includes people like former corporate execs, entire families, people who were just trying to get by day to day. And now we as Vault Hunters have to kill all these ordinary people to save the universe. Tough choices, eh?“

“Oh geez, you know that's a really fair point. i know borderlands likes to push the 'morally gray' aspect of things, but holy shit that's dark. (not saying i don't love it though, i totally do lol) You’re probably 100% right that rhys is struggling internally. especially after being so closely tied up with hyperion and even fiona and sasha, seeing exactly what hyperion did to people not just on helios but the people trying to live their daily lives and survive on pandora. im sure he has a similar reasoning to himself as the twins: im doing this for the better of the people. i can help so many more people with this money and power. somewhat similar to handsome jack, but hopefully lorelei (if she's not evil) helps ground him and keep him from jumping into the middle-to-deep end.”

“I'm still betting that Rhys will remain on the good side, if a teensy bit unscrupulous. I mean, the whole thing about the Twins is that they're social commentary of livestreamers and influencers and the incredibly toxic influence they can have. There are countless aspects of that to explore. If streamers can mobilize their entire loyal fanbases to bully the crap outta some poor chump or buy things or let their fans believe that they know the streamer 100% as a person and not a persona, the Twins can convince people to go to war.”

“Oooh yeah, it's not hard to imagine they probably don't even need the brainwashing for a majority of their cult, just the select few who are either on the fence or against it, but are [still] 'available'. irl streamers can be seriously fuckin scary, man, im not surprised this is the route gearbox is going for. now, it would be severely fucked up if there was a scene where tyreen demands someone kill themselves on the spot and they do without hesitation. if you watch the moze gameplay there seems to be a hint of something like that going on over the radio/TVs, she mentions something about their sacrifice or something, then you hear a dude screaming/gurgling.”

“Everyone's thinking that Tyreen will be this laughable, entertaining villain. But I'm constantly seeing hints and estimating that she is going to be far, far more scarier than we give her credit for. For one, Jack was a presence largely relegated to audio. We only physically saw him in BL2 twice. The Twins run a cult, which itself is frightening already. And it looks like we'll be seeing them in person very often.”

“Oh yes, tyreen is fucking terrifying. i mean even that she can steal siren powers is already a huge "whoa what the fuck" in my book. that one line at the end of the HBC where she's like "you're my most loyal follower vault thief, you just don't know it yet"? fucking scary, how her voice drops and gets all serious for a split second and then the hologram just cuts out. i was like "wh- wait hang on-???" i definitely think she is putting up a persona and as the game goes on we're slowly going to watch her lose it. troy will probably grow a bit distant from her as well if he doesn't lose it, too. definitely think ty is going to try and kill him once he's of no use to her, because he's just been a pain in her side because she had to keep him alive as the brains of the operation. but once the operation is done... whoops. sorry pal. don't need you anymore. they're the main villains, i can't see her holding the bonds of family in high regard at all. she could totally write off his death as like ‘he sacrificed himself for the Great Vault, now we pray to him every day and sacrifice ourselves in his name’ or smth”

“She puts up this fun-loving persona as a streamer, but she then decides the Vault Hunters get to see her true self. It is not pretty. It makes Jack look like a kitten-cuddling fluffball, that's how bad the real Tyreen is. It makes Piston and Vasquez sound like friendly guys you'd take out for lunch after work. It makes Hector's goals look very reasonable and sane. Also, perhaps she kills him and we never see how she did it, which ups the scare factor. It's like Troy disappeared and we have no idea how she killed him and how long it took for him to die. We just find a lot of irreconcilable proof that Troy is dead now and we don't know how. That is the amount of horror I'm estimating.”

“Oh man I love this. That's so horrible (in a good way), I can 100% see it happening. Jack swore revenge for us killing the person he 'loved'. Tyreen herself kills the person she 'loved' and we start to realize holy shit this is the real deal. She can't even pretend to care like Jack pretended to care (he didn't actually care about Angel as a person, but he did say things to try and make Angel think he did, just putting that out there cuz I don't wanna sound like I support him lol). There's just a complete contrast between her and Jack during the final levels of the game. Jack stops joking around "you feel that, child killer?", he's dead serious and ready to kill vs Tyreen laughing or just being off the rails bubbly for her 'streamer persona' while looking utterly unhinged”

so yeah, the convo teetered off after this a bit, but the general gist is that Tyreen is going to go absolutely off-the-wall by the end of the main story. this is somewhat supported by the Danny Homan interview that states the twins are going to have their relationship warp and twist.Tyreen is going to start going crazy with all the powers she absorbs and realize once the plan is over she won’t need Troy’s expertise anymore, and Troy is going to get sick of being relegated to the side when he’s the one with the master plan. We both have the deep feelings the twins aren’t going to stay as charismatic as they are in the little bit of promo material we’ve gotten of them. which i get, because in a lot of the official trailers, Troy looks pissed. Tyreen is always super smug no matter what shot she’s in, but Troy... he looks very angry in some shots we get. even when Ty is holding his forearm in that one shot, he rips his arm out of her grip. For example: “How many IRL streamer "friends" get into ridiculous drama and feuds with each other? Answer: a lot. Could be mirroring that with the twins. A lot of people are saying that the new villains will never match up to Jack. This is our take, and we're proud of it, and very confident in Gearbox's new writing team. ”

EDIT: some edits made by The Wild West Pyro

[blackaquokat]

92 and 95 Acting Attorney I could use some good fluff while writing this angst heavy part of a story

Well, I was looking for an excuse to

work on my AU where Actor!Mark ends up with the DA instead of Celine, so THANK

YOU, you beautiful beta, you! This could be considered an alternate universe to

my Acting Attorney origin story “May You Always be Satisfied” where things would go

AU mid-chapter 2. Sometime in the future this may turn into a longer work, or

just a series of one-shots, but not now.

92. “You

make me happy.”

95. “Come

cuddle.”

Oo00oO

It takes Mark almost three months to

officially grieve his parents and cope with being the sudden heir to a big,

lonely house.

That is also around the time he finally

decides to officially put to the test Damien’s “theory.”

“I’m not in love with them! And, well, they are definitely not interest in…me.”

Damien’s tone made his implication

blatantly clear.

True, it wasn’t exactly the best

conversation to have at his parent’s funeral, but…Mark was glad to know, even then.

It gave more context for why his

dearest friend had seemed so uneasy around Celine when she first arrived.

But could that really mean that they…?

Could they really see him as…?

But he’s getting ahead of himself. Figuring

out once and for all whether his feelings are requited or not is a task he’s

set for himself tonight.

His friend is hosting a dinner, which

isn’t a new development, true. They are the only member of their trio that can

cook and their home is within driving distance of both Damien’s dorm at

University and Mark’s manor.

The wild card tonight will be Celine,

who also has been invited.

This is going to be

interesting, Mark thinks with a grin as he chooses one of his more dapper

outfits for the occasion.

He won’t lie and say he’s never dressed to impress his

favorite aspiring law student. He is fully aware that a fancy ensemble would

never attract their attention, not really, so his efforts in the past were more

to hear their inevitable snarky but kind compliments on his color choices.

Tonight, however, he’s pulling out all the stops.

After all, they have mentioned that red is his best color on

more than one occasion.

Oo00oO

“Damien has told me that you’re studying to be a lawyer?”

Mark watches his friend swallow a bite of chicken before

answering Celine’s question. “That is my goal, yes.”

“Do you plan to open your own practice when you pass the bar

exam?”

Their fingers tap against the table. One beat. Two. Three.

“That’s my back up plan. I’m hoping to become District

Attorney one day.”

He can see the tense anticipation in their shoulders. His

friend’s career aspirations always elicit rather polarizing reactions from

others. Those reactions tend to be negative more than half the time.

Celine is better than that, but his friend has no reason to

know this.

“That is a very admirable goal,” Celine commends with her

lovely smile. Her hand reaches over to pat her brother’s hand. “You two would

be quite the team on the political scene.”

“That is my hope!” Damien grins at the law student, and they

return the gesture.

Mark still sees a sad kind of shyness in their expression,

despite Celine’s positive response. When they meet his questioning gaze, they

force a reassuring smile.

“What about you, Celine? What do you see yourself doing?”

And so the conversation goes back and forth for another

hour, give or take, and Mark can’t help but notice the melancholy tainting the

law student’s behavior.

The gathering is nearing its end when he catches the way

their eyes flit away when Celine grabs his hand with a laugh after he cracks a

joke.

He thinks about what Damien said for about the millionth

time and nearly swears out loud as the weight of the confirmation hits him like

a baseball bat.

They spare another look at Celine before dropping their eyes

to their food, only half-eaten.

Well, shit. Mark needs to clear up a few things.

When Damien and Celine announce their departure for the

evening, Mark offers to stay and help the law student with the cleanup.

As he escorts the siblings to the entrance, well, he does

his best to ignore Celine’s intrigued gaze and Damien’s delighted smile.

Oo00oO

This is not Mark’s first time doing dishes with his friend,

with them cleaning and him drying. This is, however, the first time that the

pair of them have done this with such an unhappy…tension between them.

Mark is on the verge of saying something (he’s not sure what, exactly, but it was on the tip of

his tongue), when the law student says, “Celine seems nice.”

They hand him a soaking plate. He doesn’t take it immediately,

his mind trying to catch up with their sudden observation. He clears his throat

after another beat and takes the dish from their hands. “What brought that on?”

he asks as he dries the plate.

They shrug. “You’ve mentioned her once or twice in the past,

but now that I’ve met her…well, she seems great.” They still haven’t made eye

contact with him, instead reaching for a stained glass to scrub. “She seems like

she’d be good for you.”

Mark’s brow lifts. They sound as if they watched that ship sail into the distance.

He reaches out and touches their forearm.

They stop scrubbing.

Wordlessly, he hands them another dishtowel. Despite their

obvious confusion, they accept the item and dry off their hands.

He hadn’t quite expected to have this conversation like

this, but as long as the two of them are alone and the subject is here…

First things first:

“That’s nice that you think that, but, I’m not interested in

Celine like that.” When their expression doesn’t change, he admits, “At one

point, yeah, I thought she and I would end up together, but…in all honesty, I

haven’t felt like that for a while now.”

Their mouth twists as they lean against the sink, arms

folding over one another. Always on the defensive when it comes to matters of

the heart. “You sure about that? You looked pretty happy when she first arrived.”

Okay. It’s now or

never.

Mark takes a step closer to them, and, when they don’t step

away, reaches out his hands and lets them drift down the law student’s folded

arms before stopping at their elbows.

“You make me

happy.”

Straightforward, to the point, there is no possible way they

can misinterpret this moment.

Again, he hadn’t quite planned making any

confessions tonight, but any time he spends with the law student leaves him

more honest and vulnerable than he ever lets himself be around anyone else.

They stare at him with those wide, century-old eyes and,

before he can second-guess himself, Mark kisses them.

He fully intended to pull back right away, give them time to

acclimate to the moment, but suddenly their hands go for the back of his neck

and they respond.

Holy shit.

Oo00oO

They end up snuggling on the couch, sometime later. He can’t

remember exactly how they ended up here, them lying half on his body and half

on the couch, his fingers tangling and untangling their curls, their thumb

stroking his side.

When he asks, the law student says he just asked for them to,

“Come cuddle,” like he was half-drunk.

Which, considering the high he’s riding right now, is not an

untrue comparison.

“So what happens now?” they ask. They sound oddly dream-like

too.

He hopes they aren’t trying to talk themselves out of

believing that this is actually happening, because he’s still fighting the idea

that he’s going to wake up any moment too.

“Well…” he starts. “I guess I could pick you up before your

classes tomorrow and we could go to Amy’s Planet for some coffee?”

The possibility of a more thorough “talk” over coffee is

heavily implied, but he’s hopeful that the most the talk will entail is

groundwork and possible boundaries for whatever this is turning out to be.

This is one area of his life that he wants no

miscommunications, and he’s sure they feel the same in that regard.

He can feel them smile against his chest. “Sounds perfect.”

Oo00oO

Angst/Fluff

Prompt List: Send me a number and a pairing!

@starcrossedforever87 , @dontworryaboutanything , @falseroar , @intemperantiae , @ren-mon , @memetoyoko , @soul-wolf , @marki-dumb , @withjust-a-bite , @raimeyl , @beereblogsstuff , @silver-owl413 , @sassy-in-glasses , @chelseareferenced , @sketchy-scribs-n-doods , @axolittle-boi , @im-also-dead-inside , @timelords13 , @ur-fairy-god-dragon , @conceitedink , @unknown-maned-wolf , @ohnoimshook , @mayazen , @skyewardlight , @gabs-ink , @purple-anxiety-blog

[clementiens]

Hey I’m struggling with a fresh lifetime autoimmune diagnosis that might see me disabled in the future.... and it’s nice to have a lead on my pain but it’s hard with this being definite. And you seem so positive I was wondering if you had any coping advice? Your blog and others like you is a huge inspiration being open with chronic illness.

i wish i had something a little more like..Quickly Helpful, but a concept i saw that did help me a lot especially earlier was radical acceptance, which was basically like. accept what you cant change, so you can actually get on with changing what you can. like i just cant change that i have chronic pain and my joints dislocate and all this other stuff, but i can change how my room is arranged so i can get around more comfortably, and i can change some of my goals OR How i plan on achieving those goals so its actually feasible within the limitations that i have. its going to be more productive and im going to be Happier if i try to work within that to figure out how to make a life i want to live, rather than put all my time and energy (mentally or with trying Every Every Everything anyone suggests, even if its not actually like. realistically going to do anything) into Getting Better. it made a lot of stress by setting up this feeling of constantly waiting for my life to start (so i wasnt really trying to do anything with the life i had at the time), while also feeling like a failure when things stayed how they were or progressed. accepting my body and my health for what it was so i could move on with my life made a big difference for me, even though it is kind of a work in progress, so also dont feel bad for feeling bad, its okay to be like “yeah this sucks.” (i sometimes felt like i was being a Bad Disabled Person or giving into misery stereotypes or some bullshit like that if i wasnt always feeling totally fine about being disabled, but youre entitled to feel how youre going to feel about the situation youre in.)

ive seen a lot of disabled people and specifically disabled activists talk about how harmful the Level of focus and attention on cures/Getting Better can be, when its at the expense of a lot more focus and attention (and funding) than things like services and programs for disabled people get, even though thats what would actually help us Right Now. (ofc this is like layered and not a one size fits all issue but like as far as the pressure to get better that can end up just turning into an unnecessary stress.) finding out more about the disability rights movement and reading more of what disabled people had to say about these things also helped, and i cant even really pin down why, it was just like. there are other people in this boat too, and theyre fighting, and if theyre fighting then this life can be and is worth fighting for and putting my foot down for. it was just really reassuring i guess.

when i was first diagnosed i was flipping a lot between feeling relieved to know what was going on, and being like “oh, so it is actually that bad. that sucks.“ i had to just let myself feel that, which im pretty sure ive also seen people bring up when talking about radical acceptance, like that its completely okay to feel shitty about it or angry or grieve. trying to force those feelings down doesnt really help anything, and at least in my experience it just ends up creeping out elsewhere usually VERY inconveniently, so give yourself some time and space to feel what youre feeling without pressure, so you can go back out and the feeling isnt still hanging on you quite so much. 

BUT ALSO having a diagnosis does mean you can do something about it, even if it just gives you more solid limitations so you can know more about, like, how to ration your energy and pain tolerance, so im glad you were able to get that nailed down! its the biggest pain in the ass!

finding groups for your specific diagnosis can be good too i think, both for the feeling like other people are in the same boat but they also can have some good information about a lot of things, like certain physical therapy that did or didnt work and why, is this an EDS thing or is this normal, etc. and i think therapy is good too if its an option. i was told to Go See A Therapist when i first brought up chronic pain, which was super frustrating, but i do still have trouble with things like “i cant financially support myself right now” spiraling into “AND SO im a drain and im worthless and i suck, like, just in general,” which is where having a therapist comes in. the first thought is just objectively true but the second thought is taking it to an irrational level and it can be really easy to slip into that kind of spiral without some help, but that could also just be things like worksheets online if therapy isnt an option or whatever. (i love when my therapist sends me those.)

i hope at least some of this can be helpful and sorry if it turned into kind of an essay, but im glad you at least got some answers! this feels kind of jumbled up but im not really sure how to unjumble it so i can clarify something if its not clear

[anemoniii]

heads up. d.w.

I am back from the dead, my dudes! Hopefully for good this time. I’ll try my best to keep you guys up to date with stories and such, I hope you enjoy this one, lovelies; it’s my first time writing for Damion so. Requests are still open, by the way. I’m also going to start keeping these as non-binary as possible.

request: hi can u do a damian x vigilante reader and they all meet her for the first time and he kinda just falls for her and his fam just teasing him about his crush endlessly?? im glad u decided to come back btw : )

word count: around 2600

“Tt, you see, Batman, this is why Red Hood should never join us. He’s far too reckless,” Damian states trough his com.

Through a series of unfortunate events, Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing had failed a mission. All they needed to do was get in, avoid too much violence, download a file filled with a minor drug dealers buyers onto a hard drive, and get out.

“First of all, don’t blame me for your problems. It’s not like I was the one to disobey Bats, that was all you, man. We had a clear goal, don’t cause chaos,” Jason’s voice echoed through the empty factory. Much like the rest, he was currently tied up and hung over a pool of hydrofluoric acid.

“Oh, so going into a building with AK-47’s blaring is the right way to go? My bad, I didn’t realize.”

I which was followed by a mutter however, due to the empty factory, came as a loud echo, “Imbecile.”

“Robin, control yourself,” Bruce stated through the com, “Tim and I will be there shortly.”

While Jason ignored Bruce, he attempted to swing over and bump into Damian. Unfortunately for him, Jason, not Damian; Damian was quite thankful, he was in no mood to be burned by acid, a loud explosion interrupted his actions.

“Well, I guess they’re finally gonna kill us,” Dick sighed, “It was nice being part of this family while it lasted.”

“I promise you will feel every last bit of the explosion, just a little heads up from one dead man to the next,” Jason added.

“Heads up, indeed.”

Over the heads of all 3 vigilantes, you glided past them, cladded in an outfit as if steampunk and a ninja collided together and became one, from pillar to pillar. (a/n: or you know, whatever you want. I’m low key digging the steampunk ninja vibe though, haha.)

When you found a pillar that was in a good enough distance to save the heroes in distress, you started jumping to each chain that held them above the acid and with perfect precision, you brought them to safety with a swift cut, catch, and release.

“Why are you all so bloody heavy?” You grunted out after you brought down Robin from the chains.

Breathlessly, you stood up from your crouching position with a smile. You clapped your hands together and rolled back onto your heels, “As much fun as this was, I truly must be going,” you turned to the man with a red helmet, “I presume you’re Red Hood, correct? I agree with this twat,” you made awkward hand gestures to Damian and continued, “Please, no more reckless behaviour; I don’t want to nearly break my back again.”

“Tt, I don't need your approval, nor should you ever call me a twat. Who are you even? Were you sent by my mother? Who do you work with? Why did you-.”

You cut him off, “Easy, tiger. No need for all these questions, all you need to know is that your in safe hands. Besides, I don’t even know who you are, but I’m definitely not against learning,” you ended your statement with a wink.

Damian’s face turned a deep crimson colour as his brothers laughed.

“Robin,” he responded.

“Excuse me?”

“I am Robin,” he clarified his response.

You laughed and gave him bow to mock him, “In that case, I’m Hawk. Pleased to you.”

“Tt, I am serious, you poor excuse of a hero.”

You put a hand to your chest and replied with, “Oh, goodness me. Why, I don’t recall ever saying I was a hero, my love. But in all seriousness, my name is Onmitsu (a/n: or whatever you want). I like to consider myself a… an antihero.”

Damian blushed, yet again. To save him from further embarrassment, Dick came forward, with arms crossed, “In order for this meeting to go on any longer, we will need a clarification of what your purpose is for being here.”

“Batman should be arriving with replacement soon,” Jason added.

“Tt, we are well past that.”

Ignoring the two who were arguing, you answered the other man, “As you know, my name’s Onmitsu and I consider myself an antihero-.”

“Why do you consider yourself that?” Dick added with squinted eyes.

Sighing, you continued, “If you would let me finish my sentence, you would have known by now. My name is Onmitsu, I see myself as an antihero because I prefer to be paid for my work, and the only reason I’m saving you idiots is because this happens to be my safe haven. There’s a nice view when there isn’t acid, chains, and random people. All you need to to is look up, the stars are quite beautiful from here, no?”

Damian looked up, “Tt, you make it seem like I would be looking at-.”

“Oh, how could I forget about you!”

Damian looked back down and to you, you were playing with the tiniest kitten he has ever seen, “It looks malnourished.”

You sighed and pat the cat behind its ear, “Her name is Manara. She is the light of my life. I found her a little over a month ago, she refuses to eat anything I give her. I don’t know what to do anymore. Do you like animals? I adore them. I prefer them over humans, humans are so unpredictable.”

Damian gave a faint smile, it wasn’t noticeable, but it didn’t slide past Jason and Dick. Or even Tim and Bruce who seemed to finally arrive.

“I couldn’t agree less, you seem to be tolerable. Perhaps you would like to meet my animals sometime. I have many, I simply adore them. I have a cat as well, his name is Alfred.”

Tim and Jason couldn’t help but snicker at Damian.

Batman clasped his hands together, “Well, we truly must be going. Onmitsu, it would be lovely to work with you in the near future,” he turned to the three who faced a near death experience, “You three were in good hands it seems. No scratches, cuts, bullet wounds. Anything?”

They all shook their heads.

“Very well. It was a pleasure meeting you, I’m quite excited for you and Robin to be dating, from the profile check I did on you, you seem quite suitable, y/n.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Wayne. I can assure you, I mean no harm. Unless I’m provoked, that is,” you smiled.

With a sigh and a hand to his temple, “First Red Robin, now you?”

Your smile grew to a smirk, “I believe you mean, Tim Drake, sir?” You turned and nodded off the rest of the people, “Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and last but certainly not least, Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

Dick looked at you with confusion, “I thought you said you didn’t know Damian?”

You fiddled with your katanas and put them back in their scabbards on your back before answering, “Come on, who in their right mind would have came in saying how you already know someone’s alter ego? You gotta build up to that, my friend. Wait for the right moment, ya know?”

Your smile grew at their looks of discontent, “Please don’t worry, I have nothing against you. There’s not a dime for any of you to be dead. Surprising, I know.”

Tim yawned and added, “How reassuring.”

“Tt, calm down, Drake. Anyway, since you have the approval of my father and a reliable research, I deem you worthy to be invited to Wayne Manor.”

Jason came behind Damian and but his hands on his shoulders, “What demon is trying to say is he wants to date you. Possibly marry you, I wouldn’t be surprised if I were you; he doesn’t usually smile at people. That alone makes me hear wedding bells,” he finished by moving his index finders side to side in the air to symbolize the chiming of bells.

“Jason!” Damian hissed.

No one backed Damian up, they knew it was all too true. Never once did he show the same interest in anyone like he showed you. Inviting you over? Deeming you worthy? You were beyond confused with this seemingly dysfunctional family, but they seemed nice enough. You did your research, there was nothing to be too frightened of. What could go wrong?

“Well, it would be my honour.”

And if Damion wasn’t blushing, he sure was now, “Very well, I am free tomorrow at noon. Where shall I pick you up?”

“What about at Gotham Park? I’m already going there tomorrow, I’m down for you to come. Is that okay?” You hit his shoulder with yours.

“Okay.”

“Great, demon spawn has a date, I believe we’re done here. I really don’t want to be standing near this acid anymore. But I’m a nice guy, I’ll try to get this all cleared up for you before we leave,” Jason interjected.

“It’s fine; I’m a responsible adult, I’m sure I’ll find a way to get bloody hydrofluoric acid out of here. How the hell did it even get here?”

“You know drug dealers,” Tim cut in.

“Damn, why must this dealer just have to ruin the purest thing, I love this place” you added. “Especially you, Manara. No drug lord will ever hurt you.”

As the heroes and anti heroes walked out of the factory, Manara closely following behind, all that could be heard was the words of departure and traffic. For once, there was no raindrops to fill the erie city that is Gotham.

[mmupaa]

I was wondering if you have any tips on staying motivated? Im always having trouble finishing drawings because i see the flaws in them, yet don’t know how to fix them. Sometimes it really frustrates me.

Hello! Thank you so much for your question, this is such a good one! 

I know exactly what you mean and I definitely face the same thing a lot! 

(I’m definitely not speaking from authority here, so if you have other ways of dealing with this, that’s great! What I wrote was not meant to be condescending in any way, I just thought it might be best if I use ‘you/we/us’ to explain things). 

(I’ll TRY to break it down so the wall of text is less scary for everyone who has trouble with attention span and shapeless wall of text!)

Being satisfied with your drawing really seems like an almost unreachable goal sometimes. It mainly depends on:

1. how strictly you view your own art 

and 

2. how you categorize your art

1. To elaborate on that, many people are extremely self critical. 

— Sometimes I am much more forgiving of other people’s work than my own. I see some flaws in art not made by me, but they don’t even bother me and to the flaws I say: “They’re learning so quickly, I’m so glad they posted their progress! It’s so cool how they made this thing work!…”. 

But if I drew vitrualy the same thing, I’d be less satisfied with it, and I see that my friends are like this as well.

So I think we should really strive to give ourselves a break sometimes and be more forgiving of our own flaws too, just like we are forgiving of others. It’s okay to have flawed work, it’s the only way of improving. 

— This is all hypothetical, I know how hard this actually is, so it always helps if we show the art we aren’t sure of (finished or unfinished) to someone who we trust. People less versed in art than you can reassure you, that the mistakes you think you made aren’t that glaring at all! And people who do art too can help you with some advice and their thoughts on your supposed flaws!You should definitely show art you aren’t sure of to other people, so you can get another perspective and a confidence boost!

2. By art categorization I mean - Try not to take your art too seriously!

Not in a way that you shouldn’t like it and get attached to it, I mean, that in my opinion we shouldn’t always set out to create a ‘masterpiece’, always a big finished piece. This was what I did in highschool a lot and it really hindered my progress.

— Sometimes you should set out to do sketches! Make A LOT of sketches and studies!!! If you were making a cool piece but were stopped by its flaws and you lost motivation to finish it cause you’re not gonna like it anyway - stop working on it, make some sketches instead! 

Can’t get the pose right? Draw some live drawings, go and do portraits of people (in the same pose you’re trying to do, and different poses too!)

Even if your style of drawing is cartoonish, not realistic, this REALLY helps, cause you need to know the rules of realism to be able to translate them to your style!

(I only recently finaly started sketching a lot - realistic and non realistic things - and the improvement is so quickly noticable! I got more confident with my line and my drawing scenes.)

— Other times it’s also okay to stop working on a piece without feeling guilty, because you outgrew it. You learn so much with every piece and stopping at any point doesn’t undo your art progress!

You can post it or store it or throw it away, what you learned with it stays, and you should’t feel bad about leaving an unfinished piece unfinished. Many times it’s much better to start over or start working on a completely different piece, instead of trying to save something that you dislike and/or you know you could now do better.

— SO, you don’t have to always put your art in a category of ’full finished piece’ everytime, your art can also be categorized as: ‘a sketch’, ‘a study’, ‘an experiment’, ‘a fun drawing’, ‘a 5 min drawing’, ‘a learning experience’.

tl;dr - Try to be more forgiving of your mistakes and be less self critical. 

Ask people with or without art knowledge for their opinion and support. 

Try to remind yourself that not every art you make has to be a full finished drawing and do a lot of sketches and studies.

Remember that I haven’t even graduated yet and this is all just my observation, I am not above all of this at all! I have a long way to go with my art.

Thank you for this cool question and I hope it helps someone! If you ever want to hear any more of my silly thoughts on anything, please go ahead and ask!

[koishua]

I mean, it wouldn't be such a nuisance if it wasn't so hard to pronounce, I'm really conscious about my way of speaking so what really takes me back is the speaking part 😔 (the most important 😓)

Finally it wasn't so bad, I would've stayed more time if it wasn't for some things I have to do here, but after this experience I'm thinking of going there to at least start studying while I take care of my cousin. I have much to think about, I'll have to talk it out with my bed 💤

Would you know 👀 I'm actually on ep 8 of All of us are dead, but I'll talk about that in another ask...

Well actually, these last days HxH has been really fun, I like this exam arc, but I prefer watching it with my friend bc I like to say stupid shit and we end up laughing all the time. (Actually Hisoka's parts usually have that flamenco music so we always make fun of it dancing to it 😂) Domestic Girlfriend is... confusing, like 'why are you making an anime about this??? 🧐'. Yeah, I'll check out that one then, the only sports anime I've seen is Haikyuu and I loved it, I'd like to watch Yuri on Ice and Free! Have you watched them?

It's good to hear that, must really come in handy knowing a person in every school, I could never 😂 Then I've totally achieved my goal 😌‼️ I always have much love to give so anytime you need reassurance, I'm here 🕴️

ahh... I wouldn't know... As I'm an only child I only know I would give my life for my parents, but I don't actually know if I'd like to have siblings... My mother told me she wanted to have manyyy kids, like 6 or so, but due to reasons she decided not to, but damn, I wouldn't want to be oldest sibling out of that bunch 👀 I can't even imagine the pressure.

Well, the first Agatha's book I read was 'And then there were none' at 13-14 for school, and to this day it's the first that comes to mind when recommending one, it really has you on the edge all the time (the introduction is kinda long and a little boring but after the dinner it all escalates) and bombastic plot twist 💥. Murder in the Orient express is also a classic.

Yeah, now my mind is in ‼️All of us are dead‼️but I'll check their synopsis out.

Take care and get better angel <3 - 💐

oh so you CAN speak french‼️meh i say don't be too concerned over an accent or the way you speak or anything 💔 it's so stupid that we gradually feel more self conscious about it as we grow up tho and like, the concern is so common and yet <//3 idk kids generally have it so easy with learning languages and talking since they don't hold back like we might do smh

pls im glad you're in the fluffy and fun and adventure filled era of hxh for now 😭 hisoka is sick af, but the music just makes it better yeah lmao it gets gradually so so dark and the tension just makes your neck sore sometimes 💔💔 there are so many "wtf" animes so ig domestic gf is that kind too haha i haven't watched yuri on ice (at least not in full episodes, i do know what goes on tho) but free! is still on my tbw list... for the past years.... still haven't watched it bc so many new stuff are coming out 😭🤚

thanking my dad for the amount of ppl ik istg i still don't know how my memory is capable of that </3 thanks for being the reliable older sister (figure) i never had 💜💔

trust me. being the oldest isn't worth any of its very few advantages 😐 im the oldest of four and you have to be the second mother to everyone. just— no. i would never recommend being born first and im very serious about this oml. ppl might always complain about being lonely as an only child, but that's far better than being constantly surrounded by multiple gremlins at once 🥴 they look up to you for everything, so you never get to make mistakes (as my mom always tells me to behave or else you're being "a bad influence" and teaching them something bad 💔🙁). also bc you were your parents' first kid, they'll be harsher on you but the rules they once reinforced on you will lighten up so much more with your younger siblings. okay im done with my mini rant anyways you can see how done i am with this entire older sister life 💀💀

after i finish my recently bought books, i'll be checking out and then there wer none!!

[argentconflagration]

You And I Have Mountains To Climb, Chapter 3: Through The Rain

It wouldn’t change anything to tell him, he knows. He missed his chance, and now they have to go be professional heroes, each pursuing their own career. But, for Eijirou’s own sake, maybe, he wants to say it out loud. I’ve always had feelings for you, and I really miss you. 

It's much farther than it should be, the distance from Fatgum's agency in Osaka to Bakugou's agency in Tokyo. But little by little, Kirishima and Bakugou draw each other into a new orbit, and together, chase their dreams.

Chapter 3 of Mountains is here! We find out what happens after things go wrong at Kaminari’s place, and then Bakugou and Kirishima have a much-needed talk.

(This fic will reach its conclusion after 2 or 3 more chapters.)

Read Chapter 3 on AO3

Or read from the beginning below the cut.

It’s nine minutes after the earthquake that Eijirou and Suneater receive the distress call – the Chinese restaurant in Uemachi is collapsing into a sinkhole. Fatgum is already on his way to the scene of a break-in, so the two of them are alone in the office. Eijirou grins and gives his senpai a thumbs up. Time for them to shine on their own.

Leadership comes more naturally to Suneater than it did a year ago, but Eijirou knows this will still be a challenge for him. “You got this,” he says as they’re en route, and “I’ll do the smiling for the cameras,” as they arrive.

The restaurant takes up the ground floor of a three-story building, below two floors of residences. A part of the building has already crumbled into the hole, and the rest looks precariously balanced on the edge. According to the dispatcher, while many of the people in the restaurant have been able to flee, there are still people trapped on all three stories.

Suneater tells him, “I can evacuate the upper two floors if you can take the ground floor. Can you protect yourself with your quirk?”

Eijirou nods and slams his hardened fists together.

Entering the building, he spots a waitress, her bright orange uniform muted with dirty smudges. He knows her from the last time he ate here, and thankfully she seems unharmed.

“Kanae!” he shouts. “What are you still doing here? It’s not safe!”

“Hey, Red Riot!” she calls back, and beckons him over to where she is. “Glad you showed up, this is a first-class nightmare. Part of the ceiling in the back area fell in, one of the customers got the brunt of it, and I can’t tell if he’s alive. You’re here to save the day, right?”

Eijirou’s heart jumps into his throat as he observes the slide of rubble. A man is pinned to the floor by a beam, in a way that looks incredibly dangerous for both him and the structural integrity of the building. There’s gotta be a way to get him out without bringing the building down on all of them – some clever solution that'll do both. He calls into his earpiece, “Suneater, how long til you’re done evacuating the upper levels? I don’t know if I can get these people out without wrecking the building.”

“Just give me a second,” comes the reply.

Eijirou inhales a too-shallow breath. His body won't move until his brain thinks of something to tell it, but nothing's coming to him. Kanae’s still staring at the trapped guy. “Most of the debris seems to rest on that one beam, huh?” she muses. “But I bet if you could lift it just an inch or two, I could pull the guy out.”

Eijirou sizes up the pile of debris. He’s seen unstable messes like this before, enough to know he should prepare for unexpected shifts. Why couldn’t they have taught a class on rubble physics back at UA? Swallowing, he slides his body into the gap below the beam and hardens up. The beam doesn’t lift, but the trapped guy lets out a shallow gasp of relief, and then a sharp whimper of pain.

Eijirou takes a deep breath and hardens further. If he can roll slightly to the right, he might be able to lift the beam off the guy’s back, hopefully without shifting anything above them too much.

“Red Riot, I’m clear of the building. Do whatever you need to.”

Well, never mind that, then. “Change of plans. Kanae, leave the building now. I can protect this guy even if the building collapses.”

Kanae’s still transfixed, but her legs carry her away from the scene, and she stumbles out the front door.

As soon as she clears the door, Eijirou shoves the pillar off the fallen guy, moving to shield him from anything that might fall. Something heavy – a microwave, he thinks – knocks Eijirou in the back of the head and falls to the floor behind him. Eijirou pauses for an instant, to confirm that nothing’s still shifting, before he scoops up the guy as gently as he can, and carries him out.

As the paramedics treat the victims, Eijirou and Amajiki fill out paperwork. It’s not the most glamorous duty, but in a way, its mundaneness is thrilling to Eijirou. His daydreams of heroism always skipped over the boring parts, but only real heroes fill out triplicate incident reports. He’s transcribing his part in the rescue as Amajiki looks over his shoulders, when someone tugs on his sleeve. Before he can react, he’s wrapped in a tight hug.

In the instant it takes him to regain his composure, he recognizes the hugger – he runs the flower shop on Eijirou’s most frequent patrol route. “Hanamitsu-san?” Eijirou asks. He hands the report off to Amajiki, who takes it without audible complaint.

“Thank you, Red Riot. It looks like Gendou will be okay. If you hadn’t been there—” Hanamitsu pants with exertion. He sounds like he’s going to cry.

“Is Gendou the guy I pulled out of the rubble?” Eijirou asks, finally putting his arms around Hanamitsu to return the hug. It feels a little too intimate a gesture to be sharing with basically a stranger – he doesn’t even know Hanamitsu’s given name – but he understands how stress can make people act different. It’s part of his job as a hero to comfort citizens who aren’t used to disaster.

Hanamitsu nods. “He’s my … he’s my closest friend.” He shudders, takes a long breath, and steps back. “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart,” he says, bowing deeply.

Eijirou puts his hand on his shoulder and smiles brightly at him. “That’s what heroes are for!”

Hanamitsu gives him a teary smile, nods, and goes over to talk with the paramedics.

“Sorry,” Eijirou says, turning back to Amajiki.

“I’m almost finished with the incident report,” says Amajiki. “Can we go home after that?”

Eijirou nods. He prefers to stay at the scene of an incident longer, reassuring anyone who might have been hurt or distressed, but he knows Amajiki likes to get going as soon as possible. “You’re in charge, dude! Let’s head home.”

When they board the train, Eijirou pulls out his phone. If his friends heard about him on the news, they’re sure to be waiting impatiently for him to tell all about the incident.

>>Conversation between Red Riot (you), Alien Queen, Chargebolt, Cellophane, King Explosion Murder, and Earphone Jack<< Alien Queen: heard there was a 5.5 in osaka! anything exciting happen?? Cellophane: it’s not very heroic to be excited about earthquakes Alien Queen: im not excited about there being an earthquake im excited it happened somewhere kiri was right there to save the day! Chargebolt: nice save Alien Queen: thanks! Alien Queen: anyway DETAILS PLEASE

>>Conversation with Bakugou Katsuki<< Bakugou: I heard about the earthquake Bakugou: The epicenter was pretty close to you. Bakugou: Text me when you’ve left the scene.

He grins at his phone and sends a quick message to Bakugou.

Kirishima: rescue’s over, im totally fine

>>Conversation between Red Riot (you), Alien Queen, Chargebolt, Cellophane, King Explosion Murder, and Earphone Jack<< Red Riot: i saved a dude trapped in rubble! Red Riot: and he turned out to be best friends with a guy i know from my patrol route Red Riot: small world i guess Red Riot: fatgum got called away separately from me and suneater, i think it was a petty crime thing Red Riot: so i got to be sidekick #1 for a change haha

He debates sending a second message to Bakugou, something casual to continue the conversation. Their conversation history, he notes as he scrolls up, is still twice as much him as it is Bakugou, so he holds off. It feels pretty great to get three whole messages from Bakugou, and he doesn’t want to ruin the warmth that blooms in his chest by sending a follow-up that he’ll ignore. Whenever there’s a perilous situation in Tokyo, Eijirou messages him to ask if he’s okay. He can’t stop the grin spreading across his face at the fact that Bakugou is now doing the same.

And Bakugou does tell him little bits and pieces about his life, sometimes. He’s gotten to know a couple along his patrol route who run a fruit stand, and he sometimes even hangs out with their friends who are also in Tokyo. He complains a lot about how stifling his rookie contract is, although Eijirou knows he’s happy to have achieved his goal of doing independent hero work.

Bakugou always wanted to go independent straight out of high school – he saw it as the quickest route to the top – and while Eijirou thought that was kind of insane, it was the good kind of insane, a Bakugou kind of insane. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t admire Bakugou’s manly determination.

But he doesn’t regret staying with Fatgum’s agency, even though it’s taken him away from most of his friends. He likes working with Fatgum and Suneater, and he’s gotten to know the people he’s protecting. And being a sidekick to Fatgum means he can respond to emergencies all over the city, so long as he’s working under Fatgum’s authority. It’s a freedom that Bakugou, as an inexperienced hero with a very limited contract, doesn’t have yet.

At the same time, he sure does miss his friends. If he’s honest, he especially misses Bakugou. Somewhere in his mind, he had known from the very beginning that their life paths would eventually pull them apart. Investing himself so deeply in Bakugou, an unstoppable comet of ambition, was always destined to lead to heartbreak. By the time they’d graduated, he and Bakugou were close. They studied together, hung out together, fought side by side. And perhaps Eijirou had kind of had a crush on him. Maybe a lot of a crush on him. To say so out loud would only have made things more painful, though.

Every time he sends some goofy text to Bakugou, trying to feel that closeness despite the distance, and gets no response, it stings a little.

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