#same energy as any time i see any mention of baking and i lose all senses for 30 seconds

[stars-and-the-sky]

me acting so normal (a little insane) bc my mom planted daisies in her front yard (i have incredible hyperfixation brainrot)

[channiebelly]

ahhhh you got me when i see the minchan… i’m here to request a seokmin and mingyu where they both start bulking to get shredded but get too distracted with how good the other looks bigger and instead focus on making each other big as opposed to losing the weight like intended

gosh, a plump gym bro is the way to my heart. i hope you enjoy! and thank you for the request.

ship: mingyu/seokmin

wordcount: .7k

seokmin and mingyu's new years resolution was to get ripped. they were both already quite toned, the beginnings of biceps and abs already there, but they wanted to get undeniably shredded.

"I think we should do bulking and shredding," Mingyu says on the second of January. "It's where you start by lifting weights and gaining muscle, but also eating a lot. And then after a month or so, you cut down how much you eat so when you lose the weight, you're just left with the muscles."

"Oh," Seokmin says. "That actually sounds quite easy. And I love to eat, so I'm in."

They start immediately. Mingyu stocks up on healthy things like protein powder and vegetables so they have energy to burn at the gym, but also buys fattening things like ice cream and cakes and chocolates.

"If we're going to put on weight, we're going to do it in a fun way," he says.

The diet is successful, and Mingyu and Seokmin enjoy eating as much as they want without any shame. When they go to bed packed full and bloated, they say that it's more energy to use at the gym the next day. And they like that they can do this together. Going to the gym, cooking and eating together gives them more time to spend as a couple.

Their gym goals go well too. Both of them gain muscle in their arms, shoulders and legs, and the amount of weight they are able to lift gets higher and higher.

After just one month, Seokmin can see the added definition in Mingyu's arms. And he can also see the little pot belly that Mingyu has developed. Mingyu has an affinity for wearing tight tank tops, so it's always on display. Seokmin thinks it's so sexy.

Seokmin, on the other hand, is softer. He's also gained muscle, but he's also gained a soft layer of fat on top of it. Mingyu cuddles him a lot more these days; he wonders if it's connected.

Seokmin likes seeing Mingyu eat so well. He always looks so happy after a meal and the way he strokes his fully belly makes Seokmin crazy.

So, naturally, Seokmin decides to help him out.

He makes him heavy milkshakes for dessert every night, not mentioning that he's making them with heavy cream instead of regular milk. And when he serves Mingyu a plate of food, he piles it higher than usual, knowing that Mingyu will eat it all.

They both pack on the pounds quickly, Seokmin not realising that Mingyu is doing the exact same thing to him. He brings home baking from work almost every day for Seokmin to eat, and insists on Seokmin going to a local burger place after almost every gym session.

After another month of this, Mingyu brings up the idea of cutting.

"Do you think we should start cutting now?" he asks as they wash their faces in the bathroom sink before bed.

"It's going to be hard, after getting used to eating so much," Seokmin says.

"It will be." Mingyu sighs. "I like eating like this."

"Me too," Seokmin says. "And you look really good already." He reaches out his hands to trail along the distended slope of Mingyu's belly, which almost looks like a small beach ball now. He admires Mingyu, who's big in multiple ways. Big arms, big chest, big belly. Mingyu shivers under his touch.

"You look amazing too," Mingyu says. He takes one of Seokmin's developing love handles in his hand and shakes it, watching as his belly shakes as well.

Seokmin steps closer so their bellies are pressed against each other. "What if we stay like this then? We're both happy, and we look hot."

"We can get bigger." Mingyu's eyes raking over Seokmin. "I'm liking these," he says while taking on of Seokmin's developing moobs into his hand, brushing his thumb over the nipple. "Wanna see them grow."

Fuck. Seokmin is so turned on.

"I'm in."

[suddenfossilfightersheadcanons]

Frontier Branch Leaders, pt. 3: Drake and Liu Ren

Pt. 1: Background Information

Pt. 2: Sean

Drake

-I stated in an earlier post on this blog that he's 27. Please forget that. He's probably on the cusp of 39 (circa 2015, at the beginning of Frontier).

-Originally from Sweden; moved to Copenhagen a few years before Frontier started.

-Absolutely hates the sensation that occurs when he enters his ancestral battle trance. To him, it's as being possessed, not to mention being utterly exhausting. Starting in his teens, he'd often have periods of abruptly losing control of this trance, and lashing out, sometimes violently, against tormentors and, in worse cases, family. Violet's interest in mysticism allowed her to help him work out what was going on, and slowly learn to detect when a wave of possession was imminent.

-Loves his Ankylo BO because he needn't fear injuring it during one of his trances. He feels most comfortable around padded and armoured vivosaurs.

-For a long time, he tried, desperately, to minimise the length of time he had to spend around children and, by extension, the youngest of the Wardens. He's terrified of hurting people accidentally. Moreover, he finds most people too loud, too much, too extraverted to deal with.

-Has a surprisingly excellent relationship with Sean, who quickly worked out that Drake was intensely sensitive to Sean's typical loudness. As such, Sean usually drops his volume around Drake, and where possible, emails or texts him, instead of talking, on bad days. When Drake's overloaded trying to handle the caseload that comes with managing not only Europe, but also cases in Africa, Sean will often offer to take over some of Drake's more menial duties. Drake, in return, bakes for him, and brings him odd fossil trinkets and weird rocks.

-Despite how much he hates loud people, he loves Scandinavian death metal.

-Known to abuse the World Gate to conveniently escape people. ('Sorry I can't come to your birthday, friend. I'm in Chile right now.')

-Suffered significantly with OCD from childhood, being at his worst in his teens and mid-twenties. He waited for almost 15 years before finally seeking help. While he still has intrusive thoughts and compulsions, they're far better managed now. His social anxiety is also significantly better than it once was.

-Was diagnosed with autism at age 4. Will scream if someone enters his office unexpectedly.

-Has some of the same powers as Violet—however, while she can communicate with spirits and occasionally see the future, he can merely hear spirits and detect psychic energy, but can't actually manipulate them well. Generally, if he can hear his ancestors chattering, he knows his bloodthirsty side is about to take over.

-Blows off frustration by punching pillows. If he punches walls instead, he will leave cracks in the plaster.

-Speaks Swedish and Danish fluently, as well as German and English proficiently. Has a very, very strong accent.

-Visits Switzerland all too often for the sole sake of buying too much Toblerone. Violet can and will raid his supply if there's any left by the time he returns to Fossil Park Europe, so he has about three days to consume everything he buys before she can find him.

-INTP 6w5 sp/sx.

Liu Ren

-Originally from Shanxi. Swears he's forty-eight years old, but Drake and Violet both detect a particular spiritual energy coming from him that's far too immense for him to be a normal forty-something. Writes exclusively in traditional Chinese, never mind that simplified characters have been in use since well before the 80s. Moreover, he's clearly far smarter than he lets on. Violet and Drake are both absolutely certain he's at least a century old, and aren't entirely sure he's human.

-Writes his name as 劉仁, but Violet swears that certain Qing-dynasty documents by 劉陽磊, a mystic and self-proclaimed witch, give off the same energy as Liu Ren's own writings.

-Fluent in Mandarin, Cantonese, six other Chinese dialects, English, and Portuguese.

-Tends to playfully rib Tria for her extremely strong Sichuan accent.

-Consumes obscene amounts of Sprite and Coca-Cola. Nobody knows how his teeth are still intact.

-When other Wardens get injured, he'll tell them to cheer up, and inevitably have a story of a similar injury. As such, he's been poisoned, burned, bruised, and broken over and over. Nobody knows how he's had time to suffer all these abuses, let alone recover.

-Drake and Sean both overtly dislike him. In part, it's that Fossil Park Asia has a longstanding rivalry with Fossil Park America, and that rivalry means that Sean tends to interpret Liu Ren's gestures as patronising, instead of circumspect, and Liu Ren thinks Sean to be green and overconfident. Drake's suspicions about Liu Ren's history remind him of his own supernatural tendencies, leading him to deeply distrust Liu Ren. Stryker is the only one at HQ who isn't concealing some kind of misgivings about Liu Ren, and even then, Stryker is notoriously unwilling to take orders. While Liu Ren has been there far longer than Stryker, and Stryker owes some success to Liu Ren, they exasperate each other.

-He's been in the job for over 25 years, and looked the same then as now. Though few people like him well, he's still impossible to boot from the position, as he's never actually done anything overtly wrong. Fossil Park America claim that he's overpowered and obsolete; Fossil Park Asia claim that he's done more for INTERFOL than Fossil Park America has in the last three decades combined. He's possibly the most experienced person in INTERFOL, and doesn't seem to be running out of momentum; as such, he's invaluable, even if he's incomparably ill-liked.

-Though he's not overtly frayed at the edges in the same way that many, many Wardens are, he can and will go very, very quiet if someone mentions anything to do with Cosmonium, and when he touches the stuff, he claims that it burns. Drake is starting to wonder if Liu Ren's apparent agelessness might have something to do with Cosmonium, and if there may be some awful incident at the heart of what drove him into contact with it.

-Occasionally takes partners for a night, but doesn't appear to be seeking companionship. Has a portrait of a wife in his office, but it's old-fashioned, in black-and-white, and nobody has ever met the woman herself. Mei Lian once worked up the courage to ask her name. Zha Youjing. When Mei Lian looked at the photo of Youjing and called her gorgeous, Liu Ren looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

-ENTP 3w4 sp/so.

[maximons]

Back To You

Summary: Wanda and Y/n are broken up, so there’s no reason for them to care about who the other is with...right?

Word Count: 2,972

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Suggestive themes, mentions of death

A/N: That was a pretty bad summary, but the story’s good, I promise! At least I hope so anyway lol Happy reading :)

You never imagined that you and Wanda would break up. You really didn’t.

As cliché as it sounds, you thought she was the one. Your soulmate, your forever, your person. All the cheesy rom-com names you can think of.

Turns out, life doesn’t work that way.

Wanda broke up with you about three months ago. You wouldn’t say it came out of nowhere necessarily, you guys were fighting more often in the weeks leading up to it, but you were definitely still surprised.

Yeah, things were rocky, but you would’ve went to hell and back to fix things with her.

You guess Wanda just didn’t feel the same. And, unfortunately, there was nothing you could do about that.

So, you went your separate ways. Well, as separate as you could considering you were both still Avengers and lived in the same building, but still. You did your best to stay out of each others way.

At least at first.

When you first saw Wanda hanging out with Vision more and more though, you couldn’t really hold in your anger.

So that’s why she didn’t want to fight for you, huh? She was waiting for the chance to jump to him.

You began to make your displeasure known. You didn’t want to resort to screaming and yelling, even though that sounded really good right now. You weren’t that kind of person, and you didn’t want to make the energy of the compound an overly negative one.

So, you resorted to sarcastic remarks. You were pretty good at those.

“Hey, witchy. You and the easy bake got any plans for tonight? It’s nice out.”

“Just let me know if you’re gonna be cooking later, Maximoff. I’d like to get out of here before the sprinklers go off.”

“Yo, Wan, how do you and the microwave...y’know. Does he have a dick, or you gotta rely on external hardware?”

You knew it was immature, but this was your way of coping. You still loved her, but she didn’t love you, not anymore. Seeing her flaunting her new relationship with someone else on top of it...yeah it hurt. You couldn’t hold the hurt in forever, so this was your way of letting it out.

And if Wanda ended up hating you because of it, then so be it. She broke your heart, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty over irritating her.

Wanda was getting increasingly annoyed. 

The first month or so after your break up was hard for her. She didn’t want to lose you, no, but her fear won out in the end. While she knew she loved you, she was starting to grow very very attached to you. 

She started envisioning a future with you. A life outside of the compound, away from the Avengers. She knew you couldn’t give up on your superhero life entirely, and neither could she if she was being honest, so you guys would make sure to visit once a month. Help out during very necessary missions or end of the world situations. You’d settle in a nice suburban town, not too far from the city. Maybe have a kid or two, possibly a pet-

Yeah, it freaked her out.

It’s not that she didn’t want that with you, but she knew her life. She’s lost so much, she’s like a magnet for death. Her parents, her brother. She lost so many people and all she’s known with the destruction of Sokovia. Not to mention...you were an Avenger. You had your skills and powers, yes, but you weren’t invincible. She could lose you at any time.

You ended up getting injured on a mission a few weeks before the break up, and that caused Wanda to pull away from you in fear. This quickly sparked fights between you two, and it pained her. Eventually, she felt as though she just had to pull the band-aid off. And so she did.

Then along came Vision. And he was...fine. She liked him enough. They got along well, had good conversations, they were also connected through the mind stone which was nice. The main draw about him to Wanda though, was that he was practically invincible. Having an infinity stone in his head and being made entirely of vibranium made it very hard for him to die.

Yeah, Vision wasn’t you, but he was safe. 

And so she started seeing him.

Logically, Wanda knew you wouldn’t be happy about her new relationship, and she couldn’t blame you. She never expected hostility though. 

You were always a very quick witted and sarcastic person, it made up your sense of humor and she loved that about you. She never thought she’d see the day it was used against her. This has been going on for about four months now, and it was getting really annoying, but she could live with it.

She had just said goodnight to Vision and she began heading back to her room. It had been a pretty decent day, Vision had taken her on a nice date in the city, and you weren’t giving her a tough time today, so she was content.

She was walking down the hall with a smile on her face, but instantly dropped it at what she saw.

You were standing in Natasha Romanoff’s doorway, leaning against it, smile on your face. She hasn’t seen that smile of yours in a while, so she couldn’t help but stare. She wished she hadn’t been though, because then she wouldn’t have seen The Black Widow herself lean in to give you a kiss goodnight.

Oh, hell no. Now she was pissed.

You said goodbye one more time before leaving completely. Dopey smile still plastered on your face as you made your way back down the hall, straight towards her. If Wanda wasn’t so angry, she would have moved out of sight. Instead though, she stood in place, arms crossed, glaring at you. You looked up finally and saw her, confusion on your face.

“What’s got you all pissy, red?”

“So, you and Natasha, huh?” She snapped. You rose an eyebrow.

“Uh...why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t.” She lied, very badly. She knew you could see through it, but couldn’t bring herself to care. “Just hope she enjoys my sloppy seconds, that’s all.”

Both of your eyebrows shot up at that. You were surprised at her behavior towards you right now, but tried not to let it show. You didn’t waver. “Yeah, well how’s Vision enjoying mine? Trouble in paradise?”

“You wish. We’re doing great, just got home from a lovely date.”

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Where’d he take you?”

“He took me to a very lovely restaurant in the city. Expensive, classy, very exclusive. More than you could’ve ever done.”

“Well, being Tony Stark’s pet robot helps, I’m sure. What kind of food?”

“Italian.”

“Hmm, risky with you. What’d he get you? Nothing with mushrooms I hope.”

Wanda hesitated. Since the synthezoid didn’t eat, he ordered just for Wanda. And he did get a pasta that had mushrooms in it. You noticed her hesitation and spoke up again. “Ah, so he did.” You chuckled.

“So what? Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Sure, but you should know what foods your girlfriend hates. Maybe Stark can download it into his computer brain for next time.”

“Y’know what? I have nothing to prove to you.”

“Who said you did?”

“Just try not to get yourself killed with the Widow’s bite there, Y/n.”

“Hmm, well she does bite... and I can’t say I don’t enjoy it.” You said with a wink.

“You’re fucking disgusting.” With that Wanda stormed off back to her room.

The next few weeks continued like this. The team was used to you spouting off sarcastic remarks towards Wanda, but they really didn’t know how to deal with her firing back. It became so bad that team dinners and activities became a warzone. Everyone was incredibly uncomfortable, it threw off the entire dynamic.

And Steve was over it.

What he did next, he knew was super immature and something straight out of a fanfiction, Peter had told him about it’s existence and he couldn’t help but be curious  but he didn’t see any other option.

He had told both of you, separately, that he needed to meet about certain mission reports at 1pm.

You practically ran into the conference room at 1:05. You were late, and Steve hated tardiness when it came to mission related things. You looked up to the man, so you didn’t wanna disappoint him.

“Sorry, I’m late Cap, I just-” You stopped yourself when you saw your ex-girlfriend. Alone. “What are you doing here?”

“I can ask you the same thing. Steve wanted me to go over mission reports with him.”

“No he didn’t, that’s what he wanted me for.” Your eyes widened in realization. “Shit.” You turned back towards the door to leave, but it slammed shut and locked behind you. A moment later, Steve’s voice sounded on the intercom.

“Sorry to do this, girls, but your fighting-”

“We’re not fighting!” You both yelled, and you swore you could hear Steve roll his eyes. 

“Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s messing with the team. It has to stop. So, until you can solve your differences, you’ll be locked in here.”

You groaned and Wanda rolled her eyes before speaking. “What if we have to eat? You can’t just leave us here.”

“Well, the hope is you two get over this thing before it get’s to that, but if it doesn’t, we’re prepared.”

“This is ridiculous.” Wanda muttered, eyes and hands beginning to go red. Before she could do anything, Steve spoke up again. 

“And, if either of you use your powers to get out, you’ll be suspended for three months.”

You both groaned loudly. 

“That’s so unfair!” You complained.

“Well, just don’t do it and you’ll have nothing to worry about. Happy talking!” He then hung up.

You and Wanda stared at the intercom for a moment, before looking up at each other. Your face hardened, and so did hers. You opted to grab a chair from the table and sit, turning to face the opposite wall. 

Wanda scoffed. “What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?”

“Not as fun annoying you when I’m forced to be around you.”

Wanda’s face fell slightly. “Oh, and it’s so terrible being around me?”

“I have a ton of other things I’d rather do. Why don’t you call robo-boy in here to break you out? Technically not using your powers.”

“Sure, and you call the master assassin. I’m sure there’s an air vent she can crawl through.”

You both remained silent after that, knowing that it’d probably get you in trouble to do that. Wanda walked over to one of the chairs and sat. A few more moments passed before you spun your chair around, facing her.

“Why are you so upset about Natasha, anyway?”

Wanda turned to look at you, eyebrow raised. “I am not upset. Do what you want.”

“You’ve always been a terrible liar. Seriously, what’s the big deal?”

“There is no big deal.”

“Sure there isn’t.”

“Just like there isn’t a big deal about Vis, right? You started this whole thing after we started dating, don’t forget.”

“That’s different.” You gritted out, getting angrier.

“Oh yeah? How so? You’ve been giving us shit ever since we got-”

“Because you broke my heart, and went to be with him immediately! How the hell did you think I was gonna feel!?” You shot up out of your chair, patience gone, hurt shining through on your face. Wanda was a little surprised at your outburst, but not necessarily the information. Her face dropped a little, but she decided to be stubborn and continue.

“Well, I’m sorry Y/n, but what’d you expect? I wasn’t gonna be alone forever!”

You glared at Wanda, face hardening once again. “You could’ve at least waited. Well, I guess technically you did. Maybe a whole month was too long, huh?”

“It’s not like you didn’t move on, I don’t know why you’re giving me grief over it.”

“Again, I’m not the one who ended everything. And it took me way longer than it did you. Hell, maybe you were already thinking of getting with him while we were still together. Maybe you actually did.” Wanda shot up out of her own chair at the accusation.

“How dare you!?”

“What!? Its not like it’s farfetched! Like I said, you hardly waited!” Both of your volumes were getting louder and louder, as you two subconsciously stepped towards each other with each word.

“I would never do that, you should know better!”

“Should I!? Not like it matters anymore anyway, you made your choice!”

“And you made yours, now didn’t you!?”

“Oh please! None of this would be happening if I got my way! Hope you and the robot live happily ever after, princess!” You two were screaming right in each other’s faces at this point

“You’re such a fucking asshole!”

“Better an asshole than a liar!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!”

The words had barely left your mouth before Wanda angrily grabbed the front of your shirt, and before you knew it, she was pulling you down into a passionate kiss.

You responded to the kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around her, hand going to the back of her head to pull her closer. You’ve wanted this since the day she left you, but your hope of it actually happening dimmed overtime. You weren’t sure if this was only going to be a one time thing though, a lapse of judgment on Wanda’s part, so you made sure to enjoy every second of this.

Wanda, on the other hand, surprised herself. She knew she was still in love with you. A love like the one she had for you doesn’t go away easily. But, she never thought she would bring herself to do anything like this again. She thought she lost her chance with you. Between being with Natasha and how hostile you were towards her in recent months, she just thought it was done. Vision was a good distraction, but that’s all he’d ever be. She thought she could make it work, but kissing you again made her realize that it could never work.

He doesn’t compare to you.

When air became an issue to both of you, the kiss broke. You pulled away slightly, breathing heavily, foreheads still connected. You searched Wanda’s eyes hesitantly, afraid you were going to be met with a glare and be shoved away. To your surprise, she didn’t, and was instead looking at you with love.

“I missed that.” She said with a small smile.

If you thought you were surprised before, oh boy. You pulled away, looking at her clearly. “I...you did?”

“Yeah...I did. So much.”

“But...I thought-”

“I know. I know, and I made a terrible mistake. I am so, so, sorry Y/n. I shouldn’t have put you through this, and the last thing I deserve is a second chance, but I am still so in love you.”

You were being thrown for a loop all over the place today, you were gonna get dizzy. “You do?”

“I do...I never stopped.”

“So...why did you break up with me?”

Wanda sighed. “I was scared. You had gotten hurt on that mission, and I was really beginning to feel as though I couldn’t live without you. I was selfish, and didn’t want to go through the pain of losing you, so I did it first.”

You looked at her with understanding. You knew how much the witch had been through, and you could see where she was coming from. You couldn’t bring yourself to voice this though, so you settled for an “Oh.”

Wanda wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. “But, I’m doing being scared. I’m done living in fear, playing it safe. I love you so much, Y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And even our time is cut short, at least we lived a life of love and happiness with no regrets.” Wanda finished her speech, but you didn’t respond. After a moment, she bowed her head. “But, I understand that it’s too late. I’m so sorry-”

You cut Wanda off by placing your index finger under her chin, gently lifting her head up to look at you again. You then leaned in for another kiss, this time gentle. You hoped this kiss told her everything you needed to say. When you pulled apart, and saw the bright smile on her face, you knew it did. You smiled back.

“I never stopped loving you too, Wanda. I don’t think I could if I tried. And believe me...I tried.” Wanda couldn’t help but laugh. “So...do you wanna try again?”

“What do you think?” You smiled at each other for a few moments before you realized something.

“Wait, what about Vision?”

“Oh...yeah, that won’t be easy, but I’ll deal with him. What about Natasha?”

“Oh, we weren’t ever actually dating.”

Wanda stared at you in shock “Wha- you weren’t? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it was fun watching you get mad over it.” Wanda smacked you on the arm, causing you to laugh. “She was just helping me...relieve some stress.”

“Y/n!”

“What?” You asked with a laugh. “A girl’s got needs.”

“God, I can’t believe I love you, you idiot.” Wanda said, acting annoyed, but her huge smile gave herself away.

“And I’m glad you do.” Your smile slowly turned into a smirk. “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind helping you relieve some stress right now...” Wanda looked up at you, mischief in her eyes. She wanted to be annoyed, but man she missed you...in every way.

“Let’s get out of here first.”

[espressokiri]

Hi there. Another Muslimah here.

Hope you don't mind me sending you an ask. I read your fic about the BNHA boys with a muslim s/o. It was really good. I loved it so much. (There aren't many fics like this, which is a shame cause we like fanfics too. So this was very refreshing. Thank you.💚😉)

Could you do one for the Haikyuu boys, specifically Tsukishima, Kuroo, Sugawara, and Bokuto. But only if you want to, of course.

Hope you have a great and productive day.

Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou, Sugawara Koushi, and Bokuto Koutarou x Hijabi!reader

In which reader is a hijabi Muslim.

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Notes: You're welcome to send asks anytime <3 I may be slow at getting through them but I will make sure to get them out! Thank you for being so sweet anon <3 I hope you enjoy this one! ^^ I’m sorry if it seems bland as I was slowly losing ideas.

Tsukishima Kei

His eyes would constantly drift to you during class hours, lips twitching into a smile as he would watch you struggle with the assignment sheet given during history class.

Would take that as a leeway to make conversation and help you out.

"Tsk, can't even do a simple history assignment?"

Just sits down next to you and points out what you did wrong while helping you out.

Flinches his hand away and mutters a sorry if your hands accidentally graze each others.

He knows how strict the dating rules were and he admired it, thinking it was a safe way to keep them away from harm and heartbreak.

Becomes your unofficial tutor just to spend more time with you.

Has the urge to flick your forehead most times when you purposely tease him.

Is worried when he sees you zoning out in the middle of class during Ramadan, you have to convince him you're fine and that you're getting your studying done despite the odd sleep schedule you've created.

He'll give you a small box of his favourite treat, strawberry short cake, randomly throughout Ramadan because he knows you crave more sweets during the days you fast than regular days.

He calls you a masochist when he finds you watching cooking/baking videos while fasting.

Will stop by your house to drop off pastries during Eid for you and your family because he wants to peak at you all dressed up as he's only seen you in your school uniform or in casual but modest fashion.

He feels a sense of security, enjoying the aspect of getting to know someone with no sense of rush.

Kuroo Tetsurou

He's such an awkward nerd please.

Wants to approach you but fears he might accidentally offend you due to his provocative nature, hence resorts to staring at you from across the room.

Would research more about your religion and would use that as a way to start small talk;

“Hey, uh, I was wondering how do you manage to pray Zuhr when you’re in school? Isn’t it bad that you have to miss it?”

“Oh uh, I usually run home as soon as I can or pray in my club room if there are meetings, my club members are very understanding.”

“Oh... I see.”

“That’s pretty cool of you to be concerned, Kuroo-san.”

Cue him asking you random but wholesome questions with genuine curiosity.

“Did you know men who oppress women are considered to not follow Islam? I find that really nice that women are equal to men in your religion!”

You smile at him and his interest in your religion.

Study sessions in the library because you both wanted to spend time with each other but he knows it is wrong for a male to be alone in the same room as the opposite gender so you both opted for the library where there are lots of people.

Gasps and immediately looks away when you unravel the scarf around your head to fix;

“Y/n! You can’t do that!!”

“I’m wearing an underscarf calm down.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatic male but smiled at his respectful nature.

Ramadan? Catch him ruining his sleep schedule just to have movie nights with you through the phone and Netflix Party.

Kenma teases him about it because Kuroo used to yell at him about his own staying up late gaming obsession.

Likes it when you wear a cap on top of your hijab, he thinks it looks cool on you.

He’ll convince you to skip school during Eid if it falls on a school day, telling you that it’s important that you spend at least the first day of it with your family. 

Overall, he’s the type to keep up with the Islamic calendar and learn new facts daily as he asks you to explain each and everything about your religion and lifestyle.

Sugawara Koushi

See’s you for the first time with Kiyoko when he went to excuse her from class for managerial duties.

Smitten from first sight.

Begs Kiyoko to let you be her assistant manager.

He keeps a distance from you during your first introduction and conversation because he didn’t know what you were comfortable with.

He was in awe to find out there were sports hijab when he saw you sporting one to play a short game with an over-enthusiastic Hinata.

“Here, stay hydrated.”

Hands you a bottle of water along with a towel, a newfound respect for playing in hot weather conditions fully covered. 

Due to the chaotic nature of the first and second years, Sugawara would run to cover your eyes with his jacket or hover his hands in front of your face whenever Tanaka would rip off his shirt to swing around whenever he spiked.

Sugawara had to stop himself multiple times from clapping his hand onto your shoulder, resulting in him just smacking either Asahi or Daichi when they mention him almost touching you.

Outings between you two is always monitored by the third years, Asahi smiling proudly at his friend Suga while Daichi and Kiyoko would sneakily take candid pictures of you both.

“What’s one verse you hold dear to your heart?”

You look at him from the warm mug of drink you are holding, tilting your head as you look at him in confusion. Sugawara felt the tips of his ears go red at the cute expression you held, and explains his question.

“Ah,” you thought long and hard before giving him an answer, “ ‘Allah does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear...’ I find that part of the verse very reassuring in times when I feel like I’m overwhelmed.”

Sugawara held onto every word, finding the beauty behind those words, he felt at peace. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiles.

It felt like he was more excited than you for Ramadan.

He would read out loud the Japanese translation of the Quran after you read out the Arabic words in a beautiful and soothing voice. He wanted to understand and learn.

He was hooked onto the peaceful energy the month brought despite life going on normally.

This man would wear a formal Kimono when your family invites his over for Eid, he wanted to make the best impression despite already meeting them in passing.

Suga had a sense of security and comfort around him and you felt lucky to have met someone such as him.

Bokuto Koutarou 

Oh God.

Akaashi had a field day trying to stop him from initiating any and every kind of physical affection when he first introduced you to him.

Bokuto is a man who expresses himself with affection, so he was lucky for Akaashi to explain to him why he shouldn’t initiate any physical affection without asking for what you considered crossing a boundary.

He knows he can’t drag you to the gym to watch him play volleyball by hand, so he asks you to hold onto the end of a pen, which you took, confused as to what the male exactly wants before realizing he was holding the other end and using that to drag you to where the gym was.

It was oddly endearing.

“Did you see my spike, Y/n?! Didya see?!”

“Yes, Bokuto. It was really cool!”

Cue a chest puffed up Bokuto who grinned with pride.

Invites you to eat lunch with him and Akaashi on the roof.

Having to refuse his food because you weren’t sure if there was pork in it or not.

This made Bokuto stop bringing in food that contained pork, not knowing even aside from that, he had to have the halal form of chicken or beef.

Akaashi had to explain everything to him when he asked him once.

Tried to go vegetarian one day, failed the minute he took a bite out of his food.

Feels bad when he eats on days you are fasting, so he tries finishing the meal before you come up to their usual meeting spot, resulting in him giving himself a stomach ache.

Brings you tuna filled onigiri to take home so you can eat it as a snack during the night after breaking your fast.

Sends you spam messages minutes before having to break your fast;

‘Are you excited to eat?!?!?!’

‘What are you having today?!?’

‘If you want to get any snacks later let me know! :D’

‘ONE MINUTE LEFT!!’

He’s so wholesome please.

Wants to skip school with you for Eid, but pouts when you tell him you’ll be spending it with family.

Asks you to send an OOTD pic so he could be your hype-man.

Bokuto is always willing to understand more about you and your religion, making sure to note things in his head for future references.

[captain-kinda-trash]

Hi! I wanted to request some headcannons for rottmnt boys with a reader who gives great hugs and gets a plush hoodie this winter, so hugging them feels like hugging a teddy bear now

Of course!! Thank you so much for the request!!

Teddy Bear (ROTTMNT Headcanons)

This was what I had in mind while writing 🤔🤔⬇

Leo

Let's just be clear about one thing

Leo LOVES your hugs

CANNOT get enough of them

Long night of fighting for justice? Huggies

Gets into an argument with Donnie? More huggies

Hell, even walking past you in the lair, he'll do little grabby hands and act like a whiny baby until he gets his daily hugs 🙄 😩

But then you get a super soft, super fluffy, super warm sweatshirt?

Dead

He's dead

You're basically like a human heater for this cold-blooded blue boy

Since you've gotten it, you can hardly stop wearing it, because it's the most comfortable thing ever-

And Leo has gotten even more excuses to hug you

"Leo, im cooking!"

"bUT YOUR SOO COMFFYYY 🥴"

Will, without a doubt ask you to carry his lazy ass, just because he wants to snuggle into your sweatshirt

And don't even get me STARTED on movie nights with him

Because what begins as a cold-blooded turtle hanging onto your arm like a baby koala

Ends up being Leo curled up in your lap or somehow wrapped around you with this hot sweater

So while he's practically purring with comfort, you are sweating like a dog

Not to mention, this bitch is just heavy

like 200+ pounds of straight muscle, so I hope you don't have to use the restroom any time soon because it's going to take a while to pry this big baby off of you

I'd also like to mention, that you don't need to tell him not to steal your hoodie

because he’s gonna do it anyways 😎💙

You discovered this one day, when you slipped the article off to bake with Mikey

After a nice batch of cookies was made, your jacket was gone and you began parading around the lair to find it 

Only to see Leo, snuggled in his bed and playing on his phone, with your hoodie practically swallowing him whole

If he hadn’t looked so comfortable, you would have been angrier, and just settled for scolding him playfully for stealing it

it was hell trying to pry it off of him,  though...

This turtle knows how to wrestle and he will not hesitate to kick your ass over this fluffy sweatshirt 😤

These two things (hugs and your hoodie) combined just make Leo melt into a puddle, and he couldn’t be happier to have all of your teddy bear hugs :>

Mikey

um, have you met this turtle?

KING of hugs

It’s so great how both of you share the same energy

Though he’s more cold-blooded, like Donnie, he needs all of the hugs

It’s just your thing

With Raph, you have fist bumps, Leo, you’ve got a cool handshake, Donnie is more for high-fives 

And for Mikey, it’s hugs 

He practically tackles you to the ground in tight hugs whenever you get home from school/work and come to the lair, like a happy little puppy

Speaking of puppies…

That’s what he says your hoodie feels like whenever it first arrives in the mail.

Immediately, you throw it on, and Mikey is all over it, petting the soft fabric and squealing in excitement 

Can he please wear it?? 🥺

Little Mikey didn’t even have to ask before you shed the hoodie and let him try it on

And OH

MY

FLUFFY...

The amount of cuteness that this turtle radiates when he’s smiling like an idiot and flapping the oversized arms around is just-

He vows to get his own since it’s so warm and comfortable

But he’s very respectful and gives it back to you

Only to attack you in another hug and lift you off of the ground because you look so adorable

“You’re like a little teddy bear!” *excited squeal!*

Mikey 100% respects your space so if you’re ever snuggling, he’s instantly aware of your getting sweaty or uncomfortable and will let up or loosen his arms

Winter days?

Snuggles all day and night

when Mikey (politely) asks to wear your jacket, he’ll throw it on and give you piggyback rides around the lair, because we love fun

And for Christmas, you get him his own, and he’s IN LOVE 

Sweater buddies 

He gets one in his favorite color and little ears on the hood and once a week, when they need to be thrown in the washer, you’ll keep him warm while he waits.

(Leo gets jealous of all the attention you’re giving Mikey >:o)

Donnie

we all know that Don isn’t the biggest on physical affection

If he wants a hug, usually he’d be the one to initiate, which is totally cool, since usually he’s forced into a hug by his brothers (secretly loves it tho)

He does enjoy your hugs, though he can be a bit awkward and stiff with them at first

If he’s feeling down, needs to be warmed up a bit, he’ll immediately seek your comfort

Even out of his brothers, you’re secretly his favorite 

Sure he loves Dr. Delicate Touch, but sometimes Donnie would rather go to someone who isn’t very pushy with solutions, and is willing to listen

And we can also all agree that he has an immaculate fashion taste ✨💜

When he sees the fluffy sweater draped over your arm, he’s immediately running over, analyzing the fabrics, and rushing to get you to try it on

Why? Fashion show 

Loves the warmth of your hoodie

And I because “it’s so soofff”

Donnie’s blood runs the coldest out of all of his brothers and he has the most sensitive shell, so he just adores your sweater

Is definitely contemplating on getting one for himself, though he wouldn’t tell you at first, because you might think he’s trying to copy your awesome style, and that would just destroy his massive ego 😩💅

He enjoys it when you sit in his lab with him, maybe rested against his side with your hoodie on, as you play on your phone/read/draw

Also up for snuggles when it’s extra chilly in the Lair, or when his brothers aren’t around, because once again, damaged ego

Movie marathons?

Hell yeah

Donnie will always make sure your comfortable before he gets comfortable on the couch, so you won’t shift around while watching the movie

He’s also very vulnerable when he takes his battle shell off, and in more ways than one

You know he’s got real, strong trust when he does so and will let you carefully hug him from behind with your hoodie on, since it’s so soft

Donnie will also snatch your massive jacket if he gets the chance, and disappear into his lab for days with it on

And he’ll never tell a soul this…

But he loves it the most, because it smells like you, 💜

so it’s like having you right beside him while you’re gone, or when he’s busy building something 

Also, tries to use his classic and sarcastic charm when it comes to asking for your hoodie back

“Come on Don, it’s cold outside! I need it!”

“But would you take it from such a luxurious face as this?” 😏

“😒”

“Right, giving it back-“

He totally gets his own hoodie, by the way

Purple (obviously)

But it just isn’t the same as your own, so Donnie might just have yours on and then wrap his own around his waist

Yep

He sure does love his teddy bear 💜

Raph

Okay but Raph is an actual teddy bear-

A big, mom-friend, weapon-wielding teddy bear

He LOVES giving hugs, and most would recognize this, seeing the various pictures and instances where he pulls all three of his brothers in for a great big group hug ❤

He's constantly reminding himself that you are much much more prone to injuries than his brothers, so he holds you like a little baby when he hugs you

(Unless he gets super excited or has a really rough night, so just be aware that you might be restricted of breathing privileges in that case-)

Usually so gentle 🥺

Just picks you up and wraps those huge freaking arms around you like giant pillows

And he LOSES HIS SHIT when you come back with this fluffy ass hoodie

Has this infatuation with petting the fur and running his fingers over it

He has never felt something so soft in his entire life 😩❤

And then when he hugs you with it on-

aUGGGH ❤❤

"Why are you a like big teddy bear?!"

"Buddy, you're just getting a taste of my own world-"

Poor Raph, being the size he is and having such a spiky shell, can't just wear your hoodie like his brothers :(

I mean, sure he could take it so easily

But he doesn't want to disrespect your things, or make you upset, because this man is The Gentleman™

So, rather than asking to wear it, he'll ask to spend more time with you

Not just for the hoodie ofc, but because of your sweet gentleness and warmth

Better quit your job babe, because your new occupation?

Raph's cuddle buddy

He refuses to let you become uncomfortable, makes sure there are the right amount of pillows, blankets, and room for you to move around while you snuggle together etc.

Raph is also a heavy sleeper, so once he gets comfy and warm enough, he'll probably doze off and trap you in his big "arm cage"

Really, his nature is pure and gentle and everything you could ever imagine when it comes to hugging his little teddy bear ❤🐢

@getacactus @turtle-babe83

Hope you enjoyed this little ditty! I LOVED writing these!! 💜💜

[allywritesforfun]

{Confessions} Karl Jacobs x Reader

summary: your favorite director came out with a new movie so Karl invites you over to watch it with him

pronouns: not mentioned

word count: 1910

masterlist

You and Karl have been pretty good friends ever since you moved into the neighborhood. He was one of the first people to welcome you in. You moved from your hometown to find more excitement in your life, and boy did Karl give you the excitement you always wished for.

At first, it was simple gestures of friendship. You baked cookies one day for yourself and had some left over that you packaged up and gave to Karl. You even took the risk of adding your phone number to the basket. To your surprise, he actually called that night to thank you.

Those calls became weekly, to daily, to no calls at all. Instead, you simply went over to his house. You two did easy little things, your favorite was making “neighbor bracelets” which Karl renamed as best friend bracelets. Both of you still wore yours today.

You’ve built a very good relationship with Karl, you both trusted each other with your lives. Both of you had the other's spare key just in case. The neighborhood wasn't sketchy, but life is life and the two of you were prepared to drop everything to help each other out.

Tonight was a special night. You and Karl were super excited about a new movie coming out of Netflix. Karl knew how much you loved the director, so he invited you over. You were ecstatic.

You offered to bring pizza since Karl provided the drinks. After you picked up the pizza, you headed straight to his house. You parked behind his car and welcomed yourself in, you two basically lived together at this point.

“Karl!” You called, “I have the pizza! Where we watching this?”

You heard a voice from downstairs, “I set up the basement to look like a screening room!”

You chuckled to yourself, that was such a Karl thing to do. Karl always went all out on everything he did. That was one thing you admire about him: he always lived his life to the fullest.

You stopped at the kitchen first to drop off your keys and your shoes and picked up some extra napkins, you weren’t the neatest eater.

You made your way carefully down the stairs, step by step. You had a history of being a bit clumsy and may or may not have dropped pasta down the stairs before.

You turned the corner to the right and stopped immediately. The room was beautiful, with an even more beautiful sight in the middle.

Karl really did surprise you this time. When he said he made it look like a ‘screening room’ you thought maybe some aisle lights and very original signs, but no.

The room was completely transformed. Everywhere you looked, you found something new. The first thing you noticed was the amazing set up around the couch. Karl moved the couch to the middle of the room in front of the projector. Above the couch draped satin sheets that made the set up look like it was from a fairy tale. At first you didn't notice the fairy lights spread out on top of the sheet, but it made the perfect touch. Next was a line of squishmallows leading up to the couch. You even laughed at the little outfits Karl put on them to make them look like workers. You followed where the little workers directed, which lead you straight to Karl.

“Surprise!” He jumped, arms wide open.

You set the pizza down on the coffee table in front of the couch. You took another look around and noticed the abundance of blankets that Karl had laid over to the couch to look really cute and really comfortable.

“Karl,” You covered your mouth in awe, “It's just a movie, you didn't need to do all of this!”

He grabbed your sweatshirt and pulled in for a hug, “But I wanted to! You were so excited for this movie and if it ends up being trash then I wanted to make sure there was at least something good about it!”

You put your arms over Karl’s shoulders and leaned into the hug. You always felt safe in his hugs. His hugs were unmatched. They always drained all of the negative energy out and replaced them with safe and secure vibes.

Karl waddled you two over to the couch and he gently set you down. He stayed up and grabbed the remote while you got the pizza ready.

“This was so sweet of you to do,” You told him. “Thank you very much. I think this might be one of my favorite nights with you.”

“That’s good to know, I’ll make sure I do this more often,” Karl laughed, causing you to blush.

You enjoyed every day with Karl and treasured your friendship to the point when you weren't aware of your own feelings for him. You wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him, but you wouldn't let yourself think in a romantic way. You feared losing due to unlevel feelings. Karl knew so many people around, so why would he pick the new person in town?

You buried your feelings so far down that you blamed your blushing on going down the stairs and getting overheated from it… because that makes total sense. Karl sat down next to you, about a forearm's length away.

“What type of pizza did you get?” Karl asked.

“I wasn't too sure on what I wanted myself, so I got half pepperoni and half sausage,” You answered.

“Oh good! I was feeling both today too, in sync aren't we?” Karl questioned.

You shook your head, “No, you’re obviously way ahead of me!” You made gestures around the room, “I would've never thought of something this beautiful!”

“Not as beautiful as you,” Karl said under his breath.

You heard it loud and clear. Karl gave you these compliments every once and while. But again, you pushed it off to the side and rationalized it by saying that he says it to everyone. You weren’t special or some sort of exception. What you didn't know was that you were the only one that Karl called beautiful. All of his other friends he called ‘pretty’, beautiful was just for you.

Karl started the movie and the opening seemed off. This wasn't the typical comedy that the director normally did, this was a horror movie. You shifted around in your seat.

“Are you alright?” Karl asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, I just assumed it would be a comedy.” It's not that you hated horror, you in fact enjoyed the storyline of most of them over any other category. It was the jump scares and suspense that you hated.

“Did you not watch the trailer? It was pretty obvious by the dark mysterious basement that it was a horror thriller.”

“No I didn't,” You admitted. “It's alright though. I'm sure the director made it one of the better movies.” “Oh my gosh,” Karl turned and made eye contact with you, “You’re scared aren't you?”

You almost forgot to reply by the eye contact. Karl had the best eyes that you’ve seen. They were so vibrant and you always got lost in them, no matter how hard you tried not to, “Pffft. Me? Scared? Nope, never. It's just a fictional movie that happens to have events that could very well happen tonight or at any point in someone’s life.”

“What the honk?” Karl asked. “You are scared! I can already see it in your eyes and movement that you're scared. Here,” He offered his hand, “Take my hand and you can squeeze it when you get scared.”

You gladly took his hand and refocused your attention back on the movie. It was off to an alright start. You could already tell who was going to die and what character would be your favorite. You didn't jump until a door loudly shut in the movie. You slightly yelped and squeezed Karl’s hand.

He laughed and squeezed back, “That made you scared? You’re in for a long movie.”

You shook your head, “It was a loud noise! How did you not jump?”

“I wasn't really paying attention I guess,” Karl admitted. “Your hand is just so soft and I was trying to think about what lotion you use.”

“Oh, I think I put some Bath and Body Works on them before I left. I took a shower and they got pretty dried out.” You were obviously very unaware of Karl trying to flirt with you. This became a regular thing. It was surprising how much Karl was into you. You accidentally rejected him almost every day, yet he never let up.

The movie progressed and got scarier with every scene. The plot really developed and you loved it. You were so caught up in the movie that you didn't even realize that you were laying down in Karl’s arms.

“Are you okay with this?” Karl whispered into your ear.

You didn't realize that he had his hand on your waist, resting on some exposed skin, you nodded back at him, “Yeah, of course.”

You saw Karl’s cheek turn to a dark red hue despite the darkness of the room. You smiled to yourself and leaned more into him, with the excuse, of course, that you thought there was going to be a jump scare.

Karl’s free hand danced his way around to meet yours, which he nonchalantly took. It was a perfect moment for the two of you, even though neither of you knew about your feelings for each other. This was your first time cuddling with him. You absolutely loved it. You loved the fact that you didn't even have to ask, it kinda just naturally happened.

The movie ended and you two stayed in the same position for a while. You talked about the movie which eventually led to telling stories. You let Karl do most of the talking, you enjoyed watching his eyes light up when he told you about his childhood. The only time Karl’s hand left yours was to either fix his hair, or give you head pats.

Both of you ran out of things to say and laid there in comfortable silence. Karl moved his hand up and rubbed your arm for a while, which made you pretty sleepy. You yawned and snuggled into Karl more than you already were.

You felt him lean down and kiss the top of your head, “Y-You know I really like you right?” He asked.

You nodded, “Yeah I would hope so, I’m here like almost every day.”

“No, I mean like- god this sounds childish but I like you, like you,” He confessed. “Like I invite you over all the time and want to hang out as much as I can because you bring me so much happiness and joy. Like, I’m falling really hard for you and I don't think that you picked up on it.”

You sat up in his arms and stared at him, “You’re joking right? Because you’re the only person that I’ve wanted to be with since I moved, but I didn’t think that I had a chance because you’re so sweet and kind, and you know all of these people so I just kind of ignored my feelings because I didn't want to lose what we already have.”

Karl cupped your cheek with his hand, “y/n, you’re the only one that's had a chance.”

[piecksz]

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader 

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol 

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container. 

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen. 

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her. 

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.  

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.  

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.  

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.  

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.  

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process. 

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

[rocinantescoffeestop]

Ted Lasso has ADHD

He’s just super well-adjusted to it and has had lots of support through his life in this particular area. In all honest, he’s like ADHD goals; someone who’s comfortable and accepting of himself and his neurology.

This is so not a scientific analysis. Just a nerd looking for solace in yet another fictional character. ;)

Five reasons why I firmly see Ted Lasso as an ADHD character:

1.) Pasta Water.

Right off the bat, here’s what started this whole internal discussion: pasta water on the stove. As well-adjusted as he seems in day-to-day appearances, little details slip his mind. Forgetfulness is one of the more obvious traits of ADHD. In 1.09 when Ted and Roy Kent are having a heart to heart about Roy’s future on the team, the scene starts off with Ted trying to offer Kent something to eat/drink like any good host, and he makes a joke about offering the pot of pasta water that’s been sitting on his stove for two days. Kind of odd to have that sitting out, right? Not for a neurodivergent, though. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve baked cookies and then left all the materials scattered about on the stove and counters overnight, and then just didn’t have the energy or mindfulness to clean it up until someone got on my case for leaving a mess.  Our minds are just on a higher plane; we prioritise differently. Ted’s not at all concerned with the material. It’s the heart and soul that gives things meaning and thus gives him muse to pursue something, and frankly, cooking and cleaning up doesn’t give him that joy.

2.) Reminders.

He has little signs that say ‘believe’ tacked up all around his house, and in the same episode that’s mentioned (1.10 if I remember correctly – when he, Nathan, and Beard are discussing tactics for the game against Manchester), there’s also a fleeting mention of having a reminder to floss (that he also states to ignore due to exhaustion). I constantly have to write things down; anything that pops into my head, I put it on a flashcard and pin it to the wall, because even if it’s something I believe in, it might leave in the next few seconds so if I want it done/ingrained in my head, I have to have it somewhere outside my head. It’s because of our absolutely shot executive function – doesn’t really work too well – that leads us around our day in a spiral, constantly finding something different/a new angle or another story off our previous story that leads us astray. We get acquainted with backpedalling, mainly from other people (or ourselves) who keep telling us: hey, you were about to tell me something? I don’t have all day. Or something similar.

3.) Mentality.

It’s obvious that Ted’s thought process is miles away from the people he’s surrounded by, and the more people try to drag him back to his way, the more firm he gets. (The only person who I’ve noticed doesn’t try to sway his mentality is Keeley, they actually vibe really well together, right off the bat, which is funny because I see a little adhd-coding in her as well.) In my experience, the more someone tells me to see a different side/do something else, the more I want to keep doing what I want to do/keep believing in my way. (It’s only recently that I discovered this was a trait shared among many with ADHD; I thought it was just me being a dick to be honest XD.) I work so well with opposition. Losing that feels a bit like losing a purpose. It’s just so lucky that Ted’s way of staying true is optimism, because there’s a lot of rampant pessimism everywhere you go, so he never truly lives without his purpose. Breaking away from this core is painful, too, and we see him refuse to do just that literally every episode.

4.) More Reasons for Optimism.

Here’s another reason for optimism: RSD. We all know that positive thinking is the first line of defense against negative thinking, and you’re thinking duh right now, I can feel it. ;D That just helps me warm up to what I’m really trying to say which is about RSD, or Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, a way to describe a symptom of ADHd. Now, at first, I didn’t see much evidence for this. RSD is what makes it very hard for us to bear criticism, and from what I see of Ted, he manages to handle criticism pretty well, he’s pretty civil about it, always taking it with a smile. And typically, people with this dysphoria don’t handle rejection or perceived rejection too well. Then, I realised that Ted’s intense optimism acts as a coping mechanism against this. If something is hard to hear, if criticism pulls him down to the depths, he forces himself to bounce back up because, in all honesty, everything starts with a smile, and after you start that (starting is the hardest thing), picking yourself up becomes slightly easier. He’s clearly had a lot of support in this area, not to mention a lot of his rambles almost sound like he’s searching for support – for validation – too. He latches onto people easily because of this, because external validation is such a powerful force. (The same goes for the lack of that, powerful in the opposite effect.) He knows this well, which is why he tries to be such a strong force of support for others. I can see this as being a contributing factor to why his divorce lead to an alarming/seemingly uncharacteristic bitter outburst and a severe panic attack – although that could also be because he spent so much of his life/devotion loving his wife and raising a family, that anyone forced into the situation wouldn’t have fared much better. In my experience, living with RSD has shaped me into a selfless person, ceaseless supporter, and postive-thinker, because I don’t want the people around me to feel as lonely and rejected as perceived criticism and the like leaves me. It doesn’t even matter whether I like them or not, I always end up feeling nauseated if something I say leads to even slight aggravation. (That’s something I’m working to address, as not everything I say or do will lead to people hating me, but it’s such a big motivator in my life.)

5.) The peanut butter jar.

This is a clever hack to combat the munchies. My ADHD leaves me hungry all of the time, but it’s a hunger that’s all in the head. Eating gives me stimulation to stay focused on whatever I’m doing, which isn’t always the healthiest (I like eating crunchy and/or salty things especially, as savoury keeps him going for longer). Leaving an open peanut butter jar on the table is honestly a clever hack. Peanut Butter isn’t the worst food to snack on, especially if it’s all natural/doesn’t contain processed sugars (those do not work well for our brains). It’s sweet but a little salty, and it’s a protein, meaning a little goes a long way in making us feel full. I know I don’t like to eat too much peanut butter, because then it starts to make me feel a little stuffed (not sick per se, just uncomfortable). Swinging by every so often to eat a bit of peanut butter is the perfect lil boost of dopamine, doesn’t over stuff, and the movement to get there is also refreshing. (I think I’m actually going to try this out for myself!)

There may be more, but alas, I’ve uncovered all the major signs that have been rattling around in my head since my first rewatch of this incredible show. XD!

tl;dr –

[shinsorokiri]

S/o Loses Memory and Quirk

Kaminari Denki HCs

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions broken bones, a panic attack, panic attack symptoms, sad Denki

A/N: Ngl writing angst for Denki did something to my little heart. He only deserves happiness and I’m mad at myself for giving him sadness lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I’ll be writing one like this for All Might next so keep your eyes peeled for that one!

Shinsou, Aizawa, Hawks, and Dabi

Todoroki, Bakugou, and Kirishima

Kaminari Denki | Chargebolt

You are his partner in crime

You’re the one who is always there to take care of him when he goes dumb

You’re the one who is always there to comfort him when he feels like an idiot

You’re always the one who is there for him

And he’s always the one who is there for you

It’s been that way for years

Ever since you transferred to UA your second year of high school

The two of you became fast friends

Best friends even

And his flirty nature made it so it wasn’t too long before the two of you entered a real relationship

The two of you EXUDE the most chaotic good energy that even Bakugou finds it kind of endearing

But unbeknownst to his friends

Denki can get really fucking serious when it comes to you

It lowkey shocked you the first time you saw him act like that

And it was all because you were sparring with him and you tripped over your own damn foot and face planted 

You figured he’d just point and laugh at you but he ran over and checked you EVERYWHERE to make sure you weren’t hurt

mans even SCOLDED you

YOU WERE SCOLDED BY DENKI KAMINARI

But you lowkey LOVED it because like

Wow

He does like me !!!

Of course that was in your final year at UA

The two of you are now pro-heroes at separate agencies

And boy oh boy does Denki worry about you

He can’t help it

He has seen you run into a wall because you were trying to rely on scent instead of sight “in case you get stuck in a dark room with a villain”

He worries

But he also knows you are strong

And also a hot badass who can take on anyone

Well

Almost anyone

Midoriya could probably kick your ass but that’s just because it’s Midoriya

But in all seriousness

He isn’t even patrolling today

He has the day off actually

And Denki has never baked anything before in his life

But

He knows that there’s been this mysterious villain giving your agency some trouble recently

So he wants to make you some of your favorite cookies

Or at least try to

And then have a lil movie night

He’s a clingy little shit

And he wants to destress you so

He will refuse to let go of you for the rest of the night goddamnit!

So there he is

Taking the semi-burnt but still edible cookies out of the oven

His favorite program on in the background

When suddenly

His show gets interrupted

And the hero scanner the two of you have goes off in your living room

He immediately turns his attention to the television

Stopping in the middle of the kitchen 

Still holding the cookies

When he sees live footage of you falling from a 3 story building

Onto concrete

He drops the pan

And literally sprints out of the door

He doesn’t even have shoes on

But he doesn’t give a single Fuck™

He rushes down the stairs of the apartment building the two of you live in

And gets to his car in record time

Mans be speeding to the hospital he knows you’re gonna be at

You two had a plan in place with each other and your agencies that if anything would happen to either of you

You would both go to this specific hospital so you two could know where the other was at all times

Of course he was crying while speeding

And his heart rate was way too fast for him to be functioning

But he had to get to you

He had to

And he did

He pulled into a parking spot reserved for pro-heroes and ran inside the emergency room

When he asked about you the nurse told him you were currently in surgery for some severe bone breaks

He got a nasty taste in his mouth

But he just nodded

She told him he could wait in the waiting room

And he did

He sat down in a chair

And he was trying so hard to keep it together

So 

SO

Hard

But eventually Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and even Bakugou showed up

To be fair

Mina and you did work at the same agency

So she saw everything that happened

They immediately went over to him

And he looked up at Mina

And deadass this is the first time any of them see how genuinely serious Denki can get

He asks Mina what happened

And she hesitates

But his face is dead serious

There are obviously tears leaking out of his eyes

But his stare is wildly intense

And Mina knows that if she says no he’ll just keep asking or ask someone else at the agency

So she tells him

“Well… we were patrolling, like usual, when that villain that’s been keeping us on our toes showed up. They’ve never… done anything other than rob people and knock them out so we thought hey this should be easy. Especially since (Y/n) was there. When they saw us they ran into a building and we chased after them and when we had them cornered on the roof they did this weird… sneak attack? But not really? I don’t know it was… odd, they had this like patterned fight technique and they hit (Y/n) in a few different places, and she went to use her quirk to fight back but… nothing happened… and then they hit her like at the bottom of her skull and she just… fell down unconscious. And then they… threw her… off…”

She started trailing off at the end because a sob tore through Denki’s throat

And then he started hyperventilating

Luckily Bakugou and Kirishima were there to help him out

They get panic attacks frequently, so they managed to calm him down and get him to breathe again

And they stayed with him for as long as they had to

Eventually after hours 

A doctor came out and approached Denki

“Pro Hero Chargebolt?”

He stands up very fast

He’s informed that you are out of surgery

And that the surgery went well

However they noticed something odd in your MRI results

It seemed that a portion of your brain was damaged?

But not quite 

It was still functioning

But something about it was off

And they had never seen anything like it before

It was like certain parts of your brain were blocked but everything else was fine

Upon hearing this Denki’s heart broke

And then after hearing the part of your brain that was impacted was the part that contained long term memories

His heart shattered

“We’re afraid she may have severe amnesia. We’re going to keep running tests to see just what is going on, we think it’s the quirk of that villain. A lot of the victims of their crimes have blockages in their muscle groups, but we’ve never seen a blockage in the brain from them.”

Denki is quiet

He literally doesn’t say anything

Until he whispers

“Can i see her?”

The doctor nods

And he leads him to your room

You’re still asleep 

And you’re covered in bandages and casts

It breaks his heart

His friends texted him to tell him they went home but if he needs them at any minute that they will be on their way to the hospital in ten seconds flat

He appreciates it

But right now he really just wanted to be alone with you

He just sat next to you

Holding your hand

He was even moving your pointer finger to trace the Lichtenberg Figures trailing up and down his arms

You always do it when the two of you are cuddling at night 

It helps him sleep

And reminds him that you love him regardless of his faults

And right now he just

He really needs you

This goes on for an hour before he feels you start to move

And he freezes

“(Y/n?”

You open your eyes

And squint at him

“Uh… h-hi… aren’t you that guy in my new class…?”

He stares at you

Completely deadpan

Before laughing a bit

But it isn’t a happy laugh

It’s very much a sad laugh

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Cool, but um… how did you know my name already?… Are you crying?”

Yes

He was

He was laughing and crying at the same time

He probably looked like he was losing his mind

But he really did just lose his whole world so

It’s a prompted reaction

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

His voice was more strained this time

“Are you… are you okay?”

“Yeah, but you’re not. And I didn’t save you, and now you don’t know who I am, and I’m just… I’m so sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.”

The laughing stopped

Now he’s just sobbing

In your mind

You’d seen him a few times while touring the school

And he was always laughing and smiling

Always

So this was shocking

And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t tug on your heart strings

You instinctively reach out to grab his hand

And he grips onto it so tight

Almost like he’s afraid of letting go

“…You called me babe?”

He tries to even his breathing

But he nods

“I don’t… I don’t even know you, I-”

“You do. You do, but… you don’t. It’s… it’s complicated and I’m a literal dumbass so… I’ll call a doctor. They’ll explain.”

And that he does

And the doctor does in fact explain

And after the doctor leaves

You ask him to tell you about your relationship

And he does

He tells you even the smallest details

From the time that you painted the nail on his right hand middle finger pink because he lost a bet and he ended up liking it and buying nail polish for himself

To the time that you two told everyone you break danced all night to break in your new apartment when in reality he turned on Lover by Taylor Swift and the two of you slow danced in your living room

All of it

And he even managed to slip in the fact that you’d remember all of this after he caught the villain who did this to you

And he will catch them.

[mochegato]

Nannyette

Chapter 6 – Radio Mysteries Are Still a Thing

Chapter 1        Chapter 5

“I’m not tired though.” Mar’i whined in a sleepy voice.

Marinette smiled down at her as she patted down the comforter around her.  Mar’i’s eyes were barely staying open as she talked.  “Yeah, I can tell.  But your Mommy has a bunch of super fun things planned for you two as soon as she gets home tomorrow.  I know she is really excited to spend time with you, so you want to be rested and full of energy for her tomorrow, right?”

“I’m so excited.” Mar’i squealed quietly, suddenly reenergized thinking about spending time with her Mom.  “We’re going to bake cupcakes and go shopping and practice flying and get lunch together and get our nails painted and take some cupcakes to Daddy. You and Tim should come with us!”

Marinette smiled at her.  “I’m flattered you want us to come with you but I think you and your Mommy should get some time alone.  I know she’s missed you a lot.”

Mar’i thought it over and nodded as she thought. “And you and Tim should get some time alone, too.  I know he likes you a lot.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed.  “That's nice. Tim is a very nice and thoughtful man.  I'm sure he likes lots of people.”

Mar’i’s eyes started getting heavy again as she corrected Marinette.  “Not really.”

Marinette blushed further.  “Well then I feel honored.”

“But he likes you.  He gets happy when he sees you.  You two should go on a date.” Mar’i nodded decidedly, or at least tried to. The yawn interrupted the serious face she was trying to make.

Marinette’s smile turned bittersweet.  “Thank you, but he has Kon.”

“But they don’t go on dates.  Kon goes on dates with Cassie, not Tim.”  Mar’i said quietly as she turned to a more comfortable position under the cover.  “He thinks you should date Tim, too.”

Marinette looked at her confused.  “Oh?”

“Yeah,” she slurred, barely still awake.  “He told me today… It’s a secret though, so don’t tell Tim.”

Marinette quietly closed Mar’i’s door and padded out to the living room.  She stumbled slightly when she saw Tim was still there with papers and photos scattered across the living room table.  She blushed thinking about her conversation with Mar’i.  “You’re still here.” She said quietly.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind.  I was looking over some of Dick’s files and didn’t want to take them out of the apartment.” Tim shrugged in what he hoped was a casual manner.  The less she thought about the lie the more convincing it would be.

She grabbed her school bag and settled on the opposite side of the couch from Tim.  She scanned over the photos quickly as she pulled her books and notebooks out, not sure if it was any of her business.  But then again, if he didn’t want her to see them, he wouldn’t have them out in the open on the coffee table.  She paused her unpacking when she saw the bloody body.  “What… what is this?  I thought Dick was the detective.  Or is this one of the cases your family is working on?”

“Oh, no.” Tim looked up sheepishly.  “I like working on cold cases.  This is a file Dick set aside for me to look into.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded distractedly, examining the pictures again.  “Are these the cases Kon was talking about?  That you two work on together.”

Tim looked confused for a few seconds before remembering what she was talking about.  He looked away sheepishly.  “No, he wasn’t sure if you knew about our hero activities, so he was looking for a way to say he’s only responsible for me when we’re in the field.  We partner together a lot on missions.”

“Ahhh, that’s what you meant.” Marinette said quietly to herself, almost too quietly for Tim to hear.  She squeezed her eyes shut and mentally face palmed.  God what an idiot!  She called Adrien her partner, too.  She really, really should have thought of that!  She was totally blaming the damned concussion.  As though it hadn’t taken enough from her already; reduced caffeine, reduced electronics, and reduced energy.  It really had to add reduced rational thought?

“What?” He scrunched up his nose adorably in confusion.

“Oh, nothing.” She flapped her hands like she was shooing away the question.  “You mentioned Kon was your partner.  I just realized you meant in your hero activities.”

Tim looked at her mortified.  “You thought Kon and I…”  He had been flirting his ass off for the past few weeks, granted it was awkward, clumsy, terrible flirting.  But it was flirting none the less.  Had she not noticed?

Marinette shrugged at him, an apologetic grimace on her face.  “You two seem very close and you mentioned he helped take care of you and was your partner and Kori mentioned you were always together so...  It seemed to fit.”

“No!” Tim said too loudly.  What was wrong with him volume regulator lately, he chastised himself.  “No,” he repeated quieter this time.  “No, we’re just good friends, best friends.  He’s my partner, you know, my superhero partner.  No, I’m not in… um… I mean… I’m not dating anyone right now.” Tim stuttered out. “My last girlfriend and I broke up ages ago.”

“Oh,” Marinette nodded, looking away to try to hide her blush. “That’s um… that’s good to know. Must have made New Year’s awkward for you.  Nobody to kiss and all.  It was for me anyway.”  She turned back to the pictures again scanning them absentmindedly to distract her brain from thinking about her not at all subtle hint.  God, when did she lose her ability to flirt?  She puckered her lips in annoyance when she realized she never had it.  “And the police suspect him but can’t make it stick?” She asked pointing to a wealthy looking businessman in one of the photos.

Tim shook his head to focus on what she was pointing to and try to remember the case again after the myriad of revelations Marinette had just revealed in the last minute or so, including the confirmation that she was single.  He examined the picture she was pointing to and looked at her wide eyed in surprise. “No, but that’s who I suspect.  He had the most to gain if you consider the repercussions.”  Marinette looked at him questioningly.  “The wife was the immediate suspect.  She was having an affair with her husband’s secretary and she inherits everything. But if she was implicated in his death, she could be sued and lose any stake in the company, whether it was proven in court or not.  It would go to the next in line, which is him.”

Marinette nodded along with him looking at each of the people as he pointed them out.  “Makes sense.  No proof though?”

“Not enough.  What made you suspect him?” He looked over at her curiously.

“He changed his suit.”  Tim looked at her blankly.  “See these are pictures from the same party.” She scooted closer to Tim to point out to two pictures.  Tim scooted closer to her to get a better look at them.  “Everyone is in the same clothes except for him.  He’s wearing different suits.”

“Those look like the same suit to me.” Tim said doubtfully.

Marinette scoffed at him.  “I’m sure they were supposed to.  It wouldn’t work if the suits didn’t look the same.  But see the lapels?” She leaned over Tim’s shoulder to point to the man’s lapels. “They’re a different sheen.  This one is shinier than this other one.  And see the buttons, this one has a design. I can’t make out what it is, but there is one, but this other one, doesn’t have a design.  Plus, this one is Tom Ford and this one is Armani.”

Tim’s mouth dropped as he turned to her dumbfounded. “How did you know that?”

“I’m more than you give me credit for.”  She grinned smugly at him.  She froze when she noticed how close they had gotten.  Their faces were only a few centimeters from each other, their mouths so close she could feel his breath on her face.  He froze too, his eyes widening as he made the same realization.  After a second, Marinette’s courage failed her and she backed away from Tim shyly. What if Mar’i was wrong?  She was only 4, she could have misread the signals. Just because Tim wasn’t dating, it didn’t mean he wanted to date her.  He was smart and funny and handsome and sweet.  He probably already had his eye on someone.

Marinette grabbed her discarded textbook and held it up for him to see, her notebook shoved haphazardly into it.  “I’m a design student and have my own online boutique. If I didn’t notice that, I’d have to seriously reconsider my career path.  And I’ve seen enough murder mysteries to know that if someone changes clothes in the middle of a party, there’s a reason.  Could be that someone spilled something on him, but with a suit that expensive, someone would know it happened. If it was staff, they would be worried about getting fired and sued.  Worth looking for the suit anyway.  Depending on how cocky he is, he may have kept it and just gotten it dry cleaned, thinking nobody would investigate him anyway.”

Tim looked at her in awe.  “You… you like murder mysteries?” he was finally able to stutter out.

“Yeah.  Normally, I’d have one on in the background while I work on homework but, concussion and electronics aren’t a good mix.  Hell, normally, all my design research would be online… concussions are a bitch.  My electronic activity has been restricted.”

“Yeah, I mean not the worst I’ve gotten, but the limited electronics thing is just the worst.”

“Yeah, I imagine without magic to protect you, you guys must get hurt a lot.”

He gave her a double take.  “Why would magic be involved?”

“Oh… our heroes had magic to protect them and used magic to reverse the damage they and the rest of us sustained.” She tried to shrug nonchalantly like it was nothing important.

“Your heroes?” Marinette turned away from his adorably scrunched nose.

“Paris’ heroes.  Ladybug and Chat Noir… Rena Rouge, Carapace, King Monkey… Multimouse?” She listed off as casually as she could manage.

“I think I’ve heard of Ladybug and Chat Noir, maybe. They disappeared a few years ago, right?”

“Yeah.  Their job was done.  One occasionally pops up in New York to help Knight Owl and Majestia but, pretty much, they disappeared.”

“Their job wasn’t stopping criminals?”

“No,” she said affronted.  “Their job was to catch the villain who had stolen two miraculous and deal with damage caused by the miraculous.  When the villain was caught their job was done.”

“Huh,” Tim turned away to think about that.  “I guess I’ve never thought about not trying to help people.  If I can help, I want to do it.”

Marinette’s eyes turned serious.  “It’s bigger than that though.  The miraculous are bound to creatures with god-like abilities.  The miraculous in Paris had the ability to rewrite history and reality itself.  The potential for that to go horribly wrong or fall into the wrong hands and be used for evil is too great.”  She sighed and looked at her book.  “Not to mention the heroes were children when they started fighting and they couldn’t reveal their identities to anyone so their only support was each other.  They deserved a break, a chance to heal and be children.  Children shouldn’t be taking on the battles of grownups.”

Tim looked at her sympathetically. “Definitely not the philosophy I grew up with, as a child vigilante.”

Marinette gave him a weak smile.  “Maybe you deserve a break too.”

Tim looked away for a few moments, considering what she had said.  “Maybe…”

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud yawn. He looked over and saw a sheepish look on her face.  “Sorry. I think the pool tired me out just as much as Mar’i.”

“You should take a nap.  I can watch over things while you do,” he offered gently.

“No, thank you though.” She gave him a grateful smile and held up her textbook.  “I have miles to go and chapters of text to read before I sleep.  I usually have something else on while I do though, something to distract my brain.”  

He looked over at her and gave her a small smile. “You know they have radio murder mysteries.  I can find one to play while you work on your homework, if you want.”

“Yeah,” she smiled back wider, appreciating the change of topic.  “I’d like that.”

“I… there are a few to choose from,” he said holding up his phone.  “Did you want to choose?”

Marinette moved so she was touching him and looked through his phone.  “That one looks interesting,” she commented handing it back to him.

Tim smiled and started the mystery.  He smiled wider when he noticed she didn’t move away from him after choosing the mystery.  He waited a few minutes then slung his arm around her shoulders.  He held his breath waiting to see her reaction. Marinette stiffened only for a second then relaxed into his side.  Tim let go of the breath he was holding and enjoyed the feeling of having Marinette next to him.

Marinette opened her textbook and started reading and making notes while Tim pulled up more information on the suspect for the case on his laptop.  After a few minutes, he noticed Marinette’s pencil had dropped and her breathing had evened out.  He looked down at her and the sight filled his heart with warmth.  She had fallen asleep curled up into his side, with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest.  He smiled affectionately, relishing the feeling of having her curled up against him.  

He gently closed her textbook and moved it and her notebook out of the way.  He grabbed the blanket haphazardly thrown over the back of the couch and wrapped it around the two of them.  He pulled her closer into his chest and leaned further back into the couch to get more comfortable.  His smile softened even more when she sighed contentedly and snuggled further into his chest.  He would stay in this position as long as he could, as long as she wanted.

Chapter 7

Tags:

@timari-month-event  @ichigorose @stainedglassm @better-toast @theymakeupfairies @trippingovermyfeet

[wisteriashouse]

sweet confession.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4351

You’d never thought yourself to be the jealous type.

But when your best friend, Rengoku Kyoujurou, asks you what a suitable gift to confess with would be after a morning of sparring exercise, that green eyed beast in you somehow finds the energy to rear its ugly head.

The second the question leaves his mouth, you pause with your towel in hand to stare at his hopeful, earnest expression for a moment, a little thrown off by his words. Kyoujurou isn’t particularly close to anyone out of the corps besides his younger brother, being far too devoted with his job as a demon slayer to have the free time to know many people outside of the corps. The few people whom he does interact much with are you, Shinobu, when he gets injured, and of course, Kanroji.

You purse your lips, suddenly contemplative. Does Kyoujurou have feelings for the Love Pillar?

Kyoujurou hasn’t mentioned anything about it to you, but it would make sense for the two of them to be especially close, considering that Kyoujurou had acted as her trainer and master in Flame Breathing back in the past. Neither has Kanroji, for that matter, but she’s always been closer to Shinobu compared to you anyway. 

“Why do you ask?” You glance at him, trying to keep your tone as light and breezy as possible. Kyoujurou’s confident gaze falters for a moment, clearly hesitant, before he gathers his courage and opens his mouth to speak. “I would like to gift someone special to me with a present, but I do not know what I should give! I thought that I should ask you, since I trust your opinion!” His cheeks are dusted pink.

It’s almost painfully obvious to you who this ‘special someone’ is to him, but you force a smile onto your face, nodding in response to his question. 

“Ahh... well, personally, I like western desserts, like the ones Kanroji-san makes.” The mere thought of them makes your mouth water, but you’ve never really been close enough with her to ask for them. You mostly just steal them off Kyoujurou, who she bakes for regularly on a weekly basis. “Castella, tiramisu, crème brûlée, you know, the works.” 

Kyoujurou’s eyes are fixed on you as you speak, nodding attentively along everything you say. That’s when you realise that he can’t give Mitsuri her own cakes and hurry to rectify your earlier words. 

“But since you’re giving it to someone special, you should find something that they personally like! You should ask them directly yourself.” You add on hastily, before he can ruin his gift giving because of you. “If it’s someone who’s really important to you, you could try making something with your own hands. It would be more intimate and from the heart, am I right? I think it’d be really sweet.”

The seconds the words escape your mouth, part of you wants to hit yourself over the head. Why are you helping him get together with someone else?

You wonder if you should invite Obanai along to your pity party. He’d probably send Kaburamaru after you to bite your fingers off instead.

Lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice Kyoujurou staring at you, fingers twisted in the fabric of his own towel. Something made with his own hands? He’s never really ventured into the finer arts of cooking or baking, but if that’s what you want, he’ll try his best to give it to you.

“I think it’d be really sweet,” you’d said. Kyoujurou wants you to think of him as sweet. 

There’s an important question he wants to ask you, after all.

>>>

“Like this?”

“Ah, no, Rengoku-san! You’re overmixing the egg whites!” Mitsuri yelps as she rushes over to his side, pulling the bowl from his hands. A bit of the meringue he’d been whisking splatters on his nose, and Kyoujurou peers into the bowl hesitantly, scratching his chin. “So, not like this either?”

He’s been doing this all morning, and he still can’t seem to get it.

“You need to handle the egg whites with a more delicate touch,” Mitsuri explains, setting his latest failed attempt next to six other bowls - prior victims of his dismal baking skills. “If not, the meringue will deflate. They need to have stiff, fluffy peaks!”

“Hmm!” Kyoujurou makes a noise of understanding, bending over the counter to study the batch that Kanroji has made earlier. Honestly, he can’t really tell the difference between and successful and failed meringue, but if Kanroji says that it’s not alright, there is no way he’ll be confident giving it to you. “This is more difficult than I thought it would be! Senjurou has always said my cooking isn’t that terrible, but I see now that he was just trying to make me feel better. I will never subject him to the torture of eating my cooking ever again.”

“Eh? No, Rengoku-san, you aren’t that awful...” Mitsuri presses her lips together as she looks over the mess that is her kitchen. Several broken egg shells lie on the ground, testament to Kyoujurou’s overwhelming strength and zeal. “Well... maybe just a little. As I said earlier, if you want me to bake them for you to gift, I would be willing to do that too!”

Kyoujurou shakes his head immediately, resolute in his determination. “No, I cannot.” He looks down at his hands, covered in egg white and sugar. “I want this gift to be from the heart, and it would lose its sincerity if I were to ask you to make it.”

He’s interrupted by a squeal from Mitsuri, her hands clasped to her chest and heart in her eyes. “That’s so sweet, Rengoku-san!” She gushes. “I never knew you were so romantic! Of course I’ll do my best to help you! You’ll definitely master the art of meringue whipping with practice!”

“I’ll do my best, Kanroji!” With that declaration, Kyoujurou takes a glance at his hands once more. The palms are calloused, small, bone white scars scattered over his skin. “A more delicate touch...” 

Perhaps it’s because he’s really only known wielding a sword his entire life, so he struggles to understand just what it would entail. “What would be a ‘delicate touch’?”

Mitsuri pauses to press a finger to her lips, face scrunched up in concentration as she tries to think of a suitable explanation. “Well, imagine how you would hold y/n’s hands if you could. That would be a delicate touch!”

Your hands. Holding your hands. 

He’d be gentle. Cradle your hands to him with tenderness, tell you that you’re the most beautiful person in the world in his eyes. Treasure you, love you-

Kyoujurou turns to look at Mitsuri with a frown, mildly confused. “I do not think I would want to tell the egg whites that they are beautiful!”

Mitsuri gasps, cupping her cheeks with her hands as she shakes her head from side to side. “Rengoku-san, you’re really too sweet and gentlemanly... ahh, my heart is fluttering. I love how romantic you are!” She takes a deep breath to calm herself, fanning her cheeks. “If you do hold y/n’s hands, you’d be firm but gentle, wouldn’t you? You should apply the same touch to the egg whites!”

More gentle. More delicate. Kyoujurou can do that.

Determined, he picks up another egg and holds it up.

“I can do this!”

>>>

He’s been spending an awful lot of time with Mitsuri lately, you think to yourself.

You’re waiting in the dojo of the Rengoku Estate for Kyoujurou to show up, bokuto in hand and absentmindedly practicing your kata. He’s late by a few minutes, and although you normally wouldn’t mind that, he has mentioned earlier that he’s meeting with Mitsuri beforehand. What for, however, you don’t know.

Pausing in the middle of swinging your practice sword, you glance down at your feet, pursing your lips.

Since when had Kyoujurou start to have feelings for Mitsuri?

“I can’t believe he didn’t even tell me that he was interested her.” You mumble to yourself under your breath, feeling offended for some reason before guilt hits right after. It’s not that he has to tell you, so why do you feel so annoyed? It’s not his responsibility to tell you everything that goes on in his life, not his obligation.

The door slides open behind you all of a sudden.

“Who is interested in who?”

“Ah! Kyoujurou! Don’t just barge in like that!” You cry out in shock, fumbling with your bokuto before you can drop it. Kyoujurou laughs brightly at your reaction, his face flushed as if he’d run all the way here.

“My apologies for making you wait, I had to rush here!” He grins at you, moving to drop his belongings at the side of the dojo. You squint; there’s a lacquered box typically used to store desserts, was it from Mitsuri? Before you can ask him about it, he’s already picked up his practice sword and smiling at you, adjusting the tie of his hakama. “I hope you don’t mind too much that I’m late! Let us begin training, then!”

It’s only then that you notice that his hair is damp, and his clothes seem ruffled. You blink, trying to keep your expression neutral as you ready your own sword into a fighting stance, but on the inside, your mind is racing. What on earth was he doing with Mitsuri?

Well, not that it’s any of your business, anyway. If Kyoujurou is interested in Mitsuri and the girl reciprocates, you’ll be happy for the two of them! Happy... for the two of them... the two of them going out on dates... and kissing...

Oh. You don’t like that idea very much now.

Kyoujurou lunges forward, swinging his blade in a smooth upward stroke before you can clear your mind. “Flame Breathing, Second Form, Rising Scorching Sun!”

Distracted, you barely manage to change your grip in time. “Snow Breathing, Fourth Form, Hoarfrost!” Kyoujurou’s sword collides hard with yours, the sound of your blades meeting echoing in the dojo. You wince as Kyoujurou forces you back and quickly disengage, retreating a few steps.

“Flame Breathing, Fifth Form, Flame Tiger!” Kyoujurou follows up easily, relentless as he swings his blade. Sucking in a deep breath, you dive between his legs and lunge. 

“Eighth Form, Winter Avalanche!”

“Your stance is off!” Kyoujurou calls over the din as you press him with a continuous barrage of strikes, countering with his own fourth form. “You’re not focused enough!”

Breaking off the attack, you leap back, adjusting your grip again.

What does Mitsuri have that you don’t? Is it because her hair is such a pretty colour? Because her personality is so bubbly and sweet? Because she bakes really nice western desserts and you can’t? You aren’t as outgoing, your hair is drab compared to even Kyoujurou’s, and-

… and the tip of Kyoujurou’s bokuto is resting against the your throat.

“You really are distracted today.” Kyoujurou comments, and you let out a little groan of disappointment as he lets the point of his sword fall. The expression on his face is one of genuine concern. “Is something the matter?” 

Smacking yourself on the head in an attempt to rid yourself of all thoughts, you shake your head and ready your sword once more. Focus!

“I’m sorry, it was my fault.” You admit, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “Come on, let’s train properly. I’ll do better this time.”

“It’s not like you to be distracted, however.” Kyoujurou takes a step closer and you glance up to see him standing far too close to you, so close that your eyes are level with the exposed strip of skin from his collar. There’s a faintly sweet smell of burnt sugar and cream lingering on him, the very same scent that Mitsuri wears. Did he... “There is a flush on your cheeks and your pupils are dilated. Do you perhaps have a fever?”

Alarmed at his observation, you clap your hands over your cheeks and shake your head. Who? Flushed? Definitely not you. “I feel fine.” You desperately lie between your teeth. “Come on, let’s go another round!”

“Hmm.” Kyoujurou stares at you for a while longer before he takes a step back, a stroke of fortune for your madly pounding heart. “Well then, let us continue!”

Glad to have averted that crisis, you force your mind to stay on track for the rest of the training session, allowing Kyoujurou to pound every bit of distraction out of your bones with his bokuto. At the end of a series of matches, you’re sure that you’ve turned into one giant bruise, wobbling when you try to pick yourself off the ground and finally giving up, collapsing back onto the mats with an unintelligible groan.

“It was a good spar! We ended later than usual, today!” Kyoujurou enthuses as he sits cross legged next to you, seemingly still brimming with an unholy amount of energy. Staring at him for a few seconds more, you shake your head before letting yourself slump over on the ground, unable to comprehend how he’s not yet flopped over next to you out of sheer exhaustion.

“It’s your fault for coming late.” You grumble, feeling the ground dig into every bruise you have on your body. Too tired to think straight, you drag yourself over the floor to Kyoujurou, who’s tying his hair out of his eyes, and promptly pillow your head in his lap like you’ve done since you were kids.

His thigh stiffens under your touch, but he doesn’t remove himself from you. Instead, his hand reaches up to pull stray strands of your hair behind your ear, before his palm moves to rest gently on your cheek. “When is your next mission?”

He sounds slightly nervous.

“Hmm?” You’re too tired to put much thought into it, letting out a yawn. You’re just so tired, and you haven’t been getting proper sleep for the last few days, too wrapped up with thinking about the man in front of you. “I’m leaving tonight... I think. Some demon rampaging about in one of the northern mountains. Hopefully it’s not too much trouble.”

Maybe when you’re away from him for a bit, you’ll be able to clear your mind.

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Kyoujurou takes a deep breath, trying to bolster his courage. “When you come back... I have something important to tell you.” He says aloud, his voice solemn. Kyoujurou has never once thought of himself as a coward, but the thought of so much as confessing his feelings to you... it makes his heart swell and feel incomparably tiny at the same time.

You’d never break his heart on purpose, of course, but he knows the power you have over him. It’s one that you’re perhaps not even aware of, but he feels it keenly with every word you say, every smile you send his way. It scares him sometimes, but he’s learned that it’s as impossible to escape as gravity - he can only let himself fall.

When you don’t reply even after a full minute, Kyoujurou looks down in confusion to see your eyes shut and your breaths escaping you in tiny snores. 

“Oh.” His heart trips in his chest at the sight. Reaching over carefully so as not to wake you, he tugs out his haori and places it over you. Quietly, Kyoujurou picks up a few strands of your hair and presses his lips to them, eyes soft as he watches you sleep. He should probably wake you up so that you can head off your mission, but he can’t bring himself to interrupt your rest just yet.

Kyoujurou glances at the lacquered box out of the corner of his eye, at the slight burns on his fingers, before he looks down at you once more. There’s an unspeakable emotion welling in his chest. He smiles.

“I can be patient.”

>>>

You’ve been moping for an entire afternoon.

Sure, your mission ended up successful, but it fell drastically short of your usual standards. You’d been so ridiculously distracted by your own thoughts that you’d nearly let one of the demons get away - and you are a Pillar! If Shinazugawa hears about this, he’ll never let you live it down.

Groaning in frustration, you sink your face into your pillow, eyes shut tightly. Even in the darkness, you still see a familiar grin seared into your mind, those captivating golden eyes looking straight into your soul. It’s been like this for days, you blame all your distractions on Rengoku Kyoujurou. If only he wasn’t so trustworthy, so kind, so passionate, so him-

You can almost hear the way he says your name. Have you really been thinking about him so much that you’re hallucinating about his voice? With another groan, you burrow yourself deeper into the blankets. Just when had you fallen for him so hard?

“I’m sorry for dropping by without a prior notice!” His voice continues to say, and you pause in burying yourself in blankets, confused. That doesn’t quite sound like your imagination... “May I come in? I have something to tell you.”

Bolting upright in shock, you throw the covers off your head to see the outline of him through the paper screen of your door. He’s actually here! In a panic, you try to comb down your hair as quickly as possible, smoothing out your robes before you rise to open the door for him. 

“You know I don’t mind it when you come by.” You scold, standing to the side to let Kyoujurou in. In truth, you want to pull out your hair - the suddenness of his visit has left your heart racing in your chest, and you’re not even dressed in decent clothes! He’s dressed casually today, one of the rare times you see him out of his uniform. “Why the sudden visit, though?”

Kyoujurou pauses for a moment, and that’s when you notice the lacquered box in his hands, a small affair elaborately carved with flower and flame motifs. “Sit first,” he urges, and though a little confused, you do as he says. To your surprise, however, Kyoujurou doesn’t sit informally in front of you - instead, he adopts the formal seiza position with both legs folded beneath him and takes a deep breath.

Quite baffled, you reach out to tug at his sleeve. “Kyo, what are you doing?”

“Please give me a moment.” You’re stunned at the solemnity of Kyoujurou’s voice, his fingers gripping the box in his hands tightly. Is he perhaps nervous about something? Rengoku Kyoujurou, who smiles even in the face of demons and bloodshed, nervous? “I must build up my courage.”

At this point, you’re almost starting to panic from all the trepidation. Did something happen with Senjurou? His father? The possibilities popping up in your head seem to only get worse and worse, but since he asked you for time, you’ll give it to him. Anxious, you play with the hem of your robe, watching as Kyoujurou closes his eyes and breathes deeply for a few seconds. Just what is it he wants to tell you?

Kyoujurou’s eyes flash open all of a sudden, almost as if flames have ignited in them, and he thrusts the box he’s holding at you with both hands and an earnest expression on his face. He parts his lips to speak.

“This is cake!”

Stunned at the volume of his declaration, you blink down at the box being offered to you, before you look back up at the man before you, taking in the way his lips are pressed tightly together, his eyes focused on the spot just above your shoulder. “This is... cake?”

There’s a sharp inhale, and Kyoujurou nods his head vigorously, still quite determinedly not meeting your eyes. “Yes! It is cake!”

Still not quite understanding why he’s so nervous about a piece of cake, you take the box from Kyoujurou carefully, flipping open the lid. To your surprise, there’s a slice of castella cake nestled inside, the top glazed with burned sugar and a small silver fork lying next to it. 

“You got me cake!” Kyoujurou’s heart thumps wildly in his chest as he watches you lift the box closer, your eyes sparkling and a happy grin on your face. All those sleepless nights and failed attempts are forgotten in an instant, they’re all worth it just to see you smile like this. “Thank you, Kyoujurou!”

“I’m glad you like it!” Kyoujurou replies loudly, trying to calm his heart so that he can focus on getting the correct words out this time. “Please enjoy it!”

You beam at him, picking up the fork. “It looks a little lopsided,” you say, and Kyoujurou swallows nervously. To be honest, he hadn’t been completely satisfied with this batch, but Mitsuri had run out of eggs and he’d been forced to give up. Kneading his thighs in anticipation, he watches with bated breath as you cut a piece with the fork and lift it to your mouth, chewing it thoughtfully.

Before his thoughts can run away with him, your expression brightens and you turn to look at him, licking the crumbs off the fork. “It tastes great! The burnt sugar on top makes it really sweet, I love it.” You cut another piece, and this time, lean forward to hold it up to his lips. “Here, you try a piece too!”

You’re too close. Your scent is muddling with his head, the heat you emanate dancing along his skin - he’s too keenly aware of it. He wants to wrap you in his arms, bury his face in your hair, draw you close. But now’s not the time for that.

Very slowly, he opens his mouth and takes a bite, eyes fixed on the way you smile radiantly at him. Kyoujurou doesn’t have the heart to tell you that he can’t quite bear the taste of castella after having tested so many over the last few days. “Mm, it’s good.” He says instead, and you grin, pleased. 

“So, what is it that you needed to say to me today?” You hum cheerfully as you cut yourself another slice. Ah, right, he was supposed to... Then you pause, and your eyes narrow as you squint at him. “Do you need something from me? You know I’d do it even without the cake, yes?”

“No, there is no favour I need!” Kyoujurou hastens to answer. It’s something else that he wants from you, and to ask you to give it to him would require far more than a simple slice of cake. He takes another deep breath, eyes flickering to you as you take another bite.

Say it now, Rengoku Kyoujurou. Say it!

“I-”

“Oh, you were mentioning something about confessing a few days ago.” You interrupt him, and the words are trapped in his throat once again. “How did it go? Did that special someone...” you purse your lips, “accept your affections?”

Kyoujurou looks down at the piece of castella sitting in front of you, a deep sigh rising up in his chest. “Well, no. Actually, I still have not confessed.”

“Eh?” You look at him, clearly shocked. “Why not? That’s not like you, Kyo.”

He manages a small grin, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Perhaps because I am afraid of the possible rejection.” Kyoujurou says lightly. “I do not know what I would do if that person turns me down.”

He tells you this as casually as possible, but then you surprise him by looking up at him with those sincere eyes, clasping his hand tight in yours. “To have your affection like that, I think that person is very fortunate to be so precious to you.” You tell him earnestly, and his heart skips a beat in his chest. “Mitsuri would surely appreciate it if you tell her directly-”

Wait, Kanroji?

“The one I wanted to confess to is not Kanroji!” The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, desperate to make his feelings known to you. Was that what you were thinking the entire time? That he was interested in pursuing Kanroji? “It is you.”

There’s a clatter as the fork in your hand falls to the ground, the sound echoing in his ears. You gape at him, before you look down at the cake in your hands, and then back to him. He sees the moment the pieces fall in place, and then a little noise of realization escapes your lips.

“Oh.”

He decides to speak before his courage can abandon him completely. “I’ve been wanting to say this for a while now. Kanroji advised me to pair the confession with a gift, hence the question. I wanted to give you something you would like.” You’re still staring at him with wide eyes, a dumbfounded expression on your face. Kyoujurou swallows, fists his hands in his hakama trousers, and opens his mouth to speak.

“I love you.”

You blink owlishly at him.

“You do not have to reciprocate.” Kyoujurou reassures. His chest feels lighter now that the words that have been residing there so long are finally aired. He rises to his feet. “I just wanted to let you know of my feelings for you. Then, I will take my leave first-”

Your fingers wrap around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Wait.”

He glances down at you in surprise. Your own cheeks are a beautiful hue of crimson, rosy as the rising sun, but there’s a brilliant smile on your face as you look up at him. “Are you really going to leave without letting me accept? That’s terribly rude of you.” Your laughter reminds him of tinkling bells. 

“I love you too, Kyoujurou.”

He pulls you in close to kiss you, your laughter imprinted along his lips before he buries his face in your hair to hide his smile. Your lips taste like sugar, sweeter than anything else in the world.

You’re what happiness tastes like.

[alderaani]

Embers

summary: After Umbara, Boil learns how to endure, and how to reclaim pieces of his brothers marching on | AO3 | series

warnings: canonical character death, grief, animal injury + mentions of animal death (completely not explicit, on the level of canon-typical violence).

a/n: finally another part of my 100 clone prompts - the rest of the series is linked above! i know there’s not much in canon to support Waxer being an animal lover, but i wanted to give Gree a friend to nerd out with and it’s cute. also gotta pay homage to @nibeul’s wonderful art here - while I wasn’t consciously inspired by it, it hits on v similar themes and is just beautiful like...that image of waxer holding up numa lives in my head rent free.

-

Insects swirled in a halo around his helmet. They swarmed around the seams of his blacks, too, attracted to the small beads of sweat there, to the tiny strips of flesh he couldn’t quite cover. The rising bites itched, rubbing where the edge of his vambraces met fabric, and the buzzing was enough to drive a man mad. Boil sighed, brushing them off half-heartedly and watching them billow angrily away. They’d be back. They always were.

In the reprieve, he fumbled at his belt for the viewfinders hooked there and brought them to his visor. As he spun the dial to within half a klik so that he could search the undergrowth, his thumb settled in the comforting groove where Waxer had dropped them and chipped the plastoid. He worried at it with his nail while he scanned, frowning.

It was too still.

Too quiet.

Had been in his head for weeks now, verging on a month, and he was still waiting to feel something other than crippling emptiness. There weren’t any dreams any more, none except for the oldest one they all pretended not to have; levelling a blaster against Kenobi’s head and pulling the trigger. Even that didn’t feel like the nightmare it used to.

Eventually he lowered the viewfinder, feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck at the stifled sound of his own breath in the dense air. A faint, humid breeze stirred the leaves, sending a cloud of thick yellow pollen up towards the canopy. Boil blinked to bring up the filter diagnostic on his HUD, keeping his belly low to the ground to avoid the stuff as it drifted lazily overhead.

“Kid, you doin’ alright out there?”

He listened to the static hum of the comm line for a few moments, biting back the panic that crawled up the back of his throat when it dragged on just a beat too long.

“Apart from gettin’ gnawed on by the bugs? Just grand, Sir.”

Potshot sounded a little winded, but that was probably just the heat. Blacks self-regulated temperature, but only to the extent that they made sure you sweated evenly. It never used to be quite so bad; that had been the one thing Phase 1 armour had going for it, for all it was bulkier and less adaptable to varied terrain. He supposed the Republic had had to cut costs somewhere. Waxer would’ve been whining by now that his ass was so hot they could light a flare off it. Potshot was young enough that he’d never known any different.

“Good, you see anything?” Boil grunted, pinging his location anyway. There was no real reason for it; Potshot might’ve still been green but he wasn’t stupid, and he’d done well to keep up so far. Boil could stand being self aware enough to acknowledge that he hadn’t been the most welcoming, or the most patient with the new partner he’d never wanted. He wouldn’t have had any right to be overbearing now, but it was for his own comfort, however small and bittersweet.

“Nothin’ at all. That seem odd to you too?” Potshot said, as the surveillance holos he’d taken popped up. Boil flipped through them, earmarking a couple to show him how to improve the angle later. The important shit was all there - enough to confirm what he’d already suspected. No birds, no creatures, no fresh droppings.

Just the bugs, and the trees, and them.

“Yeah, it’s odd alright. Think we’ve found what the general’s looking for.”

Boil felt pressure around his right boot and turned, vibroblade in hand, to stab into the fleshy vine knotting round it. It writhed and retreated, leaving behind pitted, smoking trails where acid had started eating into the plastoid. He registered the damage with a dull sort of annoyance. It was something else to take care of later, a way to look busy and shape the silence. It would fend off the others and their offers of company, made out of pity he couldn’t bear to look at.

“Really? What’re you seein’, boss?” Potshot asked.

Boil glanced upwards to track the position of the sun; high, almost directly overhead. At the peak of the day this place should have been teeming. Instead the only tracks he’d found had been baked solid, and this wasn’t the shocked quiet that followed a stampede. It was stagnant, aging.

“This forest is in the centre of an old super-volcanic crater, right?” he asked, not waiting for a response. It had been in the mission dossier, alongside profiles of the flesh eating plants, the deadly pollen and the venomous creatures, all of it fenced into the sloped, unforgiving bowl of the terrain. It was the kind of forest that stuck in the mind. “And we know that something has driven the wildlife away.”

Potshot hummed, the comm muffling for a second as he shifted. It took a moment of bitter disappointment coiling in Boil’s belly for him to realise that he’d been waiting for a sharp quip that wasn’t coming. He swallowed thickly, wondering how it was possible to feel so wrongfooted while lying down. If he’d ever find his balance again. If he ever wanted to feel whole now that such a fundamental piece was missing.

Potshot groaned suddenly. “Kriff it, the factories we’re looking for are underground, aren’t they?”

Boil forced a chuckle, choking past the self hatred clawing up through his lungs. The kid deserved better, deserved a superior who didn’t constantly treat him like a ghost.

“That’s it, kid. Just like the simulations, eh?”

Potshot laughed, the easy sound making Boil’s throat seize in longing so strong his teeth ached. Waxer would’ve loved him, and that made it all the worse.

“Hardly. What do we do next?”

“Alright,” Boil said, lifting the viewfinder for one last look at where he could see slight fog rising through the trees. “You get your ass back to forward command and debrief the General, I’m heading in for a closer look.”

“ What? But - Sir! We’re supposed to be working as a team. I can’t leave you -”

“Sometimes working as a team means you do your duty and trust the others to do theirs.” He cut in, keeping his voice steady by force of will. Sometimes, it meant carrying on alone. Boil clipped the viewfinder back into place and prepared to move, even as Potshot continued protesting. Boil didn’t answer for long enough that silence fell on the line.

“...am I not performing to the standard expected, Sir?”

Potshot’s voice was soft, all vulnerable underbelly. Still so shiny, and Boil remembered feeling like that, like there was still a scorecard constantly on his forehead.

“No - kid -” Boil sighed, dropping his head forward. He’d never learned how to be gentle - it hadn’t ever come naturally, and there had been no reason to lose his sharp edges when Waxer had always been there to foil them for him. He felt sharper now than ever, full of shards that didn’t sit right, and fished among the pieces for something his brother might have said. “I trust you to have my back. You’re doing everything right. But...sometimes we’ve gotta think of the mission. We need more proof before we can move in, but the two of us get caught, command loses what we already know.”

“Can’t we just send a comm?” Potshot asked, his voice still tight and hurt sounding and he was fucking this up, shouldn’t have been trusted to try to fix himself without breaking everyone else wide open in the process.

“Don’t trust it not to get intercepted,” Boil said, which was only half a lie, and would have made Cody scoff at the back to front over-caution. “And it don’t all fit in a comm. They’ll need everything you can remember to plan the advance.”

Potshot sighed, but when he spoke again his voice was looser. “...Yes, Sir. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Boil said, feeling his own chest lighten. “If you don’t hear from me by 1100 then raise me on the priority channel.”

He listened until Potshot had stated a reluctant affirmative and clicked off the line, then bellied out of the undergrowth and headed further in, to the epicentre of the unnatural quiet. He liked the way his mind went silent on recon, how everything else fell away. It wasn’t quite the same, tilted just a little off axis, but similar enough to when it had been Waxer at his six that if he didn’t think about it, he could almost trick himself into believing nothing had changed.

Plus, the space was good, just for a few minutes, where he didn't have to pretend for anyone.

It was a quiet journey, for the most part, punctuated only by the steps he couldn’t quite muffle. His thoughts were broken some time later when he suddenly heard it; the distant mechanical boom of something deep underground. He quickened his pace, following the vibrations until the earth under his feet grew hot, the air shimmering unnaturally in front of him. It had been like this at Point Rain, when the sand baked and glinted, glass-like, under the blaze of the overhead sun. If he hadn’t known the super-volcano was very thoroughly extinct, he could have kidded himself that it was just the geothermal energy of magma moving close to the surface. A clever disguise. But not clever enough.

The ground sloped ever downwards the further into the bowl he got. He watched where he placed his feet as it grew rockier, stones and small craters acting like pitfall traps concealed by the moss. Boil pinged his scanner every minute, searching for Seppie probes as the terrain tapered, falling away into a green-rimmed yawning abyss. Set into the centre of it was a huge grate, the source of the searing air. Here were the factories they’d been looking for, exactly where he’d suspected. It was a muted sort of satisfaction.

He crouched at the edge of the drop, taking holos and transmitting them directly to the Commander’s HUD. Then he checked his chrono and sent an unapologetic follow up that he’d be late to rendezvous, seeing that 1100 was about to come and go. Then he minimised the comms on his HUD to flash for priority only; he’d get bollocked for being late sooner or later, but he figured it would be novel to have it fully in person.

Finally he turned, ready to start the rapid scale back towards the 212th's forward camp, when he registered a low, keening whine.

His blaster was in his hands within a moment, trained at the knee-high leaves. The sound came again, higher this time, followed by laboured panting.

He gently brushed aside some of the foliage with his blaster barrel. Dark eyes stared at him from between the leaves. They both froze. It was some sort of animal, obviously; a mammal, probably a predator. It was small too, with paws too large for its scrawny body and a dark, downy fur that rippled with every laboured breath.

Sharp teeth. A narrow muzzle. A long, whip-like tail.

A vornskr, Boil thought, and hated how readily the identification came, how readily he tensed in anticipation of the inevitable Boil can you see - do you know how rare -

He shook the memories away, of Waxer leaning precariously over the top bunk to wave some manual Commander Gree had sent him in his face, bleating about some animal or species that Boil couldn’t pronounce. In the present the vornskr pup cowered away from him, pushing backwards on thin, spindly legs. Deceptively powerful though, he’d bet.

The creature let out another whine and stumbled, an odd abortive movement. Boil pressed more of the leaves away to get a better look and swore when he saw the brutal metal trap closed around one of its small hind legs, paring down to bone. His blaster was up and trained on the thing before he thought much about it. Better to shoot it, put it out of its misery, than prolong its suffering. It was what they did as part of the cleanup sometimes; wildlife was usually pretty good at getting out of the active battlefronts, but there were always stragglers. The too old or the too young, mostly.

Creatures like this one.

The vornskr stilled, staring at him with those big, wide eyes as if it knew exactly what he was thinking. Boil swallowed. Waxer wouldn’t have let him shoot it. Waxer also wasn’t here now to stop him, but Boil felt his arm lower all the same, just a few inches before he pulled the trigger. The vornskr yelped as the trap hinges came apart in two neat halves and immediately tried to run. It didn’t get very far before it collapsed, panting again.

Boil sighed and shook his head, holstering his blaster across his back.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” he tsked, shuffling closer.

He kept half an eye on the tail, remembering something about it being venomous. While being high off his ass on some unknown substance had the potential to make Cody’s dressing down more interesting, it might also kill him before he got there.

The vornskr growled as he leaned over it, baring needle sharp teeth, and made a snap at him when Boil reached out.

“Ah, give over,” he muttered, batting the attempt away. The little body was light in his hands as he lifted it, careful to let the injured leg hang out as he folded it into his chest. The vornskr made an odd, throaty sound and shifted, almost experimental. Then it huffed, and after a pause laid its head across his vambrace.

Boil rolled his eyes at the display, setting off towards forward command as soon as he was halfway sure he wasn’t in danger of losing a finger.

It was...nice, to have that little body cradled to him, reminiscent of better occasions when Waxer just had to stick his nose into every curious happening and inevitably adopted some struggling lifeform. However much Boil had complained, it had never steered them wrong.

When he got back to command it was to find Cody pacing the perimeter, Potshot perched on a crate nearby. The Commander’s bucket was under his arm. Boil winced. With Cody that was never an accident - usually so he could get the full weight of a glare in, the excavating kind he’d learned from Kenobi and then weaponised so that it pierced straight down to bone.

“Boss!” Potshot exclaimed, pushing off his seat. “You made it!”

“What time d’you call this?” Cody demanded, stalking over. “I was about to -”

Cody stopped short, gaze dropping to the furry bundle against Boil’s breastplate. Something in his expression softened and Boil felt in his heart, panicking as a lump rose in his throat.

“What’s that?” Cody asked.

Boil let his gaze slide downwards to a point far beyond, where two troopers were fighting over a tarp.

“Found it in a trap,” he said, his voice ragged. “Couldn’t - couldn’t let it die.”

He flicked his eyes back to Cody’s face and breathed through the grief and understanding he found there. Cody stepped forward and clasped Boil’s elbow.

“I’m sure Tranq will be able to do something for it.” A little upturn crept into the line of Cody’s lips. “Debrief in fifteen.”

Boil nodded and broke away, tipping his head to Potshot before clearing his throat roughly and popping his bucket off one-handed as he made his way to the medtent. The sun was warm on his face here, the air lighter. A butterfly flew lazily past and the vornskr lifted its head, tracking the motion with large, interested eyes.

Boil smiled, hoisting his bucket under one arm and daring to touch the creature's head with his freed hand. It wouldn’t ever bring Waxer back, but it meant something that this little life continued, because of the choices his brother would have made and all that he had been. Like the phantom touch of the sun still lingering in cooling earth.

It wouldn’t ever be enough. But, perhaps, it was just the right amount to cling onto.

-

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[blackenedwhite97]

Pregnant Panic- Poly! Erasermic x Reader

Hello! this was a requested fic from quite some time ago. I'll be catching up at some point, i'm in my final year of university so update will be more spaced out for the next few months.

Content Warning: Discussions of paternity, some medically accurate potentially a little gross conversations and mentions and depictions of anxiety and panic.

This story includes and Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

It was killing them. You’d think with how tired and unwell Shouta looked and how uncomfortable Hizashi seemed that they were the pregnant ones. Shouta was the most stressed you’d ever seen him, not because he didn’t want a child but because he was scared he’d be a bad father. You’d stayed up many late nights with him, looking out at the dark city skyline through the living room window, him drumming up ways he’d fail as a father and you countering them with rationale and reassurance. He wanted to be there, he wanted to be present. You all knew he was around the least; he was a teacher during the day and a full-time hero at night. Hizashi was usually home at night, at least.

Hizashi wanted two things. The first, to be as good of a dad as he knew Shouta was going to be. The second, to know which one of them had knocked you up. Hizashi, unlike Shouta had full confidence in Shouta’s ability as a father. Hizashi also had confidence in his own ability to be a father. Yet, and you assumed it was natural, the two of them compared themselves to each other constantly. They both felt like they had to fill a role that was usually filled by only one parent, a father. In regard to his second wish: It was driving him insane. Hizashi didn’t want to know for the reason of ascertaining who the “real” dad was, it was more of a who’s quirk we might have to deal with.

While it’s not a given that a child’s quirk is going to be the same as your parents, it’s still a possibility. A possibility some families count on so greatly that they arrange marriages based on quirk compatibility to keep their bloodline strong and on the top tiers of society. Your little mismatched family never worried about that sort of thing, whether this child was a telekinetic like you, made your ears bleed when they threw a tantrum like Hizashi or could shut his dad up like Shouta, or even if they were quirkless you’d all love them with every fiber of your beings.

This was going to be one lucky kid.

Hizashi was squirming around in his chair, his legs going from being slung over the arm rest to being tucked underneath him. Shouta was as still as a statue save the tip of his boot where his toes were wiggling with nervous energy. Hizashi shifted his position for the umpteenth time, his legs swinging around towards Shouta, their knees bumping. Shouta shot out his hand and gripped Hizashi’s knee, holding him in place.

“Stop squirming.” He grumbled.

Hizashi stilled and slumped back, splaying his limbs out dramatically. “Babe, come here.”

Hizashi looked slide long at you through his lashes and a grinned, waving you over.

“Sure, yeah. Hold on, lemme just-” you placed a hand under your swollen stomach as if that would help carry any of the weight and hopped off the examination table. You landed in a wide stance, almost losing your balance from the nearly one-foot drop. It was pitiful, since you’d started to really show it was almost like all of your hero training went straight out the door. Mind you, your hips were wider than they’d ever been, and you were twenty-seven pounds heavier than you’d ever been. You also constantly had a little critter kicking you in your bladder, which was very new.

You waddled towards Hizashi, the smallest of grins pulling at Shouta’s mouth as he watched you. He found your knew range of mobility highly entertaining. You stopped just short of Hizashi’s wildly splayed out feet, nudging one with the toe of your shoe.

“Can you stand behind me for a sec?’ Hizashi sat up straight. “I wanna try something.”

“Okay?” you raised an eyebrow but waddled around him anyways.

As soon as you were behind him he leaned back in his chair and propped his head back on your belly. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. “Now, I’m comfy.”

You stared down at him as he fought a stupid grin, trying to keep his face serene. Goof. “I’m glad our kid is already good for something.” You sighed, stroking the top if Hizashi’s head and smoothing his hair back.

Shouta blinked, his brows knitting together. “You are such a dad already.”

“Been practicing!” Hizashi quipped, shooting up and snapping one of his fingers into a gun.

Shouta rolled his eyes but couldn’t help himself and chuckled.

The door to the examination room opened and in walked a kind looking older woman with deep smile lines and dark shining eyes. She looked like she worked with babies for a living, there was a pure unadulterated kindness about her. “Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“Hi, yeah that’s me.” You turned towards her and stretched out a hand.

She took it with a smile and eyed the two men in the chairs. “Which one of you is the father?”

The three of you had agreed when this all started happening for the sake of appointments that weren’t with doctors you’d be seeing regularly Shouta was going to be the father. It was hard enough explaining that the three of you were together romantically anyways, add a baby in and the fact that you don’t know which one of them was the biological father and you have a proper scandal. Out of the three of you Hizashi was the most recognizable and had the closest thing you could equivalate to a fan base so Shouta felt that in order to keep a sense of privacy around all of this he’d be the place holder father. You’re doctor and OB GYN both understood the whole situation, of course they needed to. Both had been in favor of a paternity during the pregnancy, which you had wanted to fore go until after the birth. At this point in the pregnancy it would have to be an invasive test and with this being your first child the three of you were so nervous you didn’t want to even consider taking that chance.

Shouta cleared his throat and stood up, reaching out for a hand shake as well. “That would be me.”

Hizashi shrunk down in his chair, he had agreed to this prearrangement, but it still stung a bit. You placed a brief set of comforting pats on his shoulder and he straightened up a bit.

“Right,” the kind eyed woman took his hand. “everything seems to be going well and on track. If you wanted to go over specific we could step into another room?”

She eyed Hizashi, and curious look about her. It was probably rare to see a friend sitting in on any sort of appointment. You shook your head and spoke up.

“Oh, he’s here to help us keep track of everything. I have total baby brain and Sho gets… overwhelmed.” You smiled at her reassuringly, trying to normalize the situation.

“O-okay.” She looked down at the clip board in her hand and skimmed the page. “The only thing I would say is out of the ordinary is that all signs are pointing to a later birth than expected. This is completely normal, of course. There are a few options if we feel as though the little one if take their sweet time a little too seriously such as inducing birth.”

You looked down at your swollen belly, your little one didn’t even stir. Why would they want to leave anyways, the little shit was swaddled in warmth and had a direct line to all the caving food you were constantly supplied with. Aside from the waddling, miniscule range of motion, tiny bladder and hip and back pain you didn’t mind being pregnant too much. The boys were totally whipped, which you tried not to take too much advantage of. But you were human and Hizashi was getting really good at baking.

“Inducing how?” Hizashi questioned from his seat.

“W-well,” she looked at you and Shouta for approval before speaking, Shouta nodded. “there are ways to induce labour through hormonal injection as well as more slightingly invasive physical ways, however it all depends on the circumstances. We prefer the less invasive ways for new parents generally speaking.”

Hizashi nodded and there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. The woman looked between the three of you then looked back down at the sheet and began tearing slips off along the perforated lines. “Here are your prescription cards, signed off by Dr. Onishi.”

“Thanks.” You took the slips from her outstretched hands and she slipped out of the room, you could have sworn her polite smile slipped from her face as she closed the door behind her. She sniffed you three out.

“Invasive?” Shouta mumbled. “How invasive?”

Hizashi shrugged as he stood up, grabbing your jacket off the end of the exam table to help you into it. You turned around and let him help you into it, even putting on a jacket was harder when you were this pregnant.

“They’ll stick a plastic hook up my vagina a pop the amniotic sack thing.” You explained, expecting full well the boy’s reactions.

Hizashi shivered violently and let go your jacket, shaking himself out like a dog trying to rid itself of water after a swim. Shouta’s nose flared and his eyes rolled to the side as he frowned.

“Is that painful?” Hizashi asked, his voice still shaky.

“No one on google really said anything about that but it’s safe to assume is they won’t talk about it, it’s not good.” You shrugged.

“Ew.” Hizashi stuck out his tongue like a kid tasting adult food for the first time.

“Yeah, can we uh, stop talking about this?” Shouta, if it had been possible, had paled out. Throughout the pregnancy Shouta had gone from the toughest out of the three of you to the one that was the most squeamish about everything. Sure, Hizashi was over dramatic and very vocal about his thoughts and feelings but he always had been. For Shouta, the idea of your body literally contorting to stabilize itself only for it all the end in hours of screaming, crying and otherworldly pain was too much. Normal injuries? Doable. Anyone could get hurt. Giving birth? That was something only you could do out of the three of you and he didn’t like that.

“Sure.” You smiled at him and he hooked his arm under yours as you all made your way out of the building to the busy street outside.

“What’s up for dinner?” Hizashi asked, pulling up his collar against the wind. The winter was blowing in and Japan was in the early stages of grey skies windows and cool winds, not yet covering in heavy snow and frozen streets.

“Um, I kinda forgot it was my night.” You muttered. If you hadn’t been the pregnant you’d have been subject to a somewhat sarcastic lecture at the hands of Hizashi, but you were practically untouchable now-a-days.

“Let’s just pick up something on the way home.” Shouta grumbled.

“I gotta fill my prescriptions, though. We can just go to the grocery store, there’s a pharmacy in the back.” You said.

“I don’t want to make you cook.” Shouta sniffed, the cold air making his nose run. “Plus, it’s cold as hell and the grocery store is refrigerated, I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Sho I can-” you started to protest.

“Dad has spoken.” Hizashi chimed in, wrapping and arm around your shoulder. “We can split, Y/n and I can head home a grab food on the way, and you can go fill her prescriptions?”

“Nice try, Mr. “I-wear- a jacket- all- the-time-for-fashion”. You go get the pills; we’ll get the food. I’m fucking freezing.” Shouta poked Hizashi in the forehead.

“I can’t help that I like the layered look, Sho.” Hizashi huffed. You turned to his and gave him a peck on the tip of his nose, a dopey grin spreading across his lips. God he was easy to butter up, he was such a glutton for physical affection.

You took off you scarf and wrapped it around his neck and handed him your prescription slips. “Your assignment Present Mic.”

“Aye-Aye, Ma’am.” He saluted dramatically.

“You own me a warm drink when I get home!” he added over his shoulder at Shouta who was already wrapping his arms around you as you waited for the walk signal.

Shouta was a furnace as the best of time and a miniature sum at the worst of times. You’d taken his temperature before, worried that he had fevers or worked himself sick in the early days of your relationship. He was always around the normal base line, he just radiated heat like crazy. You sank back into him and let his thick wavy hair curtain around your face. You looked up and make eye contact with his smoldering dark eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

“Hey.” You said.

“Hey.” He hummed into your hair.

“What do you want to eat?” you asked.

“Hmm,” she closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “something warm.”

The cars came to a halt and the walk chime sounded as the pedestrian light lit up. “Ramen it is.” you chirped and skipped awkwardly froward, your splayed hips not exactly made for such enthusiastic movement. He trailed behind you; your hand clasped in his.

The Ramen shop on the way was the kind of shop you couldn’t eat in; it was a thin rectangular shop with just enough room for a line and the counter. You had never minded before but lately the lack of seating options as you waited was less than ideal. You and Shouta had to make do with leaning into each other, him trying to support you but making a makeshift seat with his thighs while she leaned against the wall. The cashier rang a small bell and called your order number with a polite thank-you. You scuttled to the counter and retrieved the expertly packed bags of lidded ramen bowls.

When you made it back to Shouta he was staring down at his phone, his normal peaceful tiredness replaced by an annoyed alertness. He was frowning and pulling away from the wall.

“What’s wrong?” you asked just in time for him to look up at you.

“Uh, there’s an emergency call for heroes. Like, three blocks from here.” He looked as though if he hadn’t been waiting for you to return he’d have already dashed out of the door. It was in his blood, Shouta was a hero and until one the assholes had knocked you up so were you. The splayed hips somewhat dulled that itch to jump into action, but you could remember how it drove you crazy.

“Go.” You nodded. “I can get home.”

“Y-you’re- really?” he turned towards the door and you could see him winding up like a spring action toy.

“Yes, go!” you waved him off. Without another work he was off, the door swinging in the wake of his exit. Although you hated to admit it, this kid had changed more than just your body. You never worried like you did now. You were never so afraid od the average mission or call turning into something catastrophic, you were paranoid about patrols in good neighborhood and rescuing cats from trees. Shouta literally rescued a cat the other night and when he was telling you about it all you could see was him toppling out of the tree and getting hurt. Whenever one of them left for work they would be setting up times to check in, and Hizashi being the chronically late guy that he is had to suddenly start keeping track of time. You didn’t want to raise this kid without either of them and while you all knew full well that it was a possibility with the life you all lived, it still terrified you to no end.

You tried to calm yourself as you stepped out onto the street, people were still milling about, and there was no thirty-foot inferno to speak of so things couldn’t have been that bad. You waddled the rest of the way home, bags of soup sloshing around in your hands, trying to stay calm. You weren’t doing very well. Usually you had at least one of the boys with you or they were together but no doubt Hizashi also had gotten the message. You groaned to yourself, knowing full well he’d also responded.

Your hands were shaking, hoping it was just the cold you rooted around in your pockets for your keys. Getting them in the door was an experience, both frustrating and upsetting in the only the way a pregnant person can attest to. Were the tears running down your face because you couldn’t get the key in the door or because you were a walking rage pile or hormones and anxiety? You whipped angrily at your tears and shoved open the building door, warm air washing over you. At least it was warm.

The building got more and more blurry as you made your way to your apartment, tears fulling your eyes until the lights were just wavering streaks. You were huffing breaths into what felt like air starved lungs, sobs pounding against your cheat trying to break free. You choked them down and rushed through our door, leaving the ramen in the hallway as you slammed the door shut behind you.

You really didn’t feel like being very very pregnant and having a panic attack. You started to pace around, running your hand through the soft blanket across the back of the couch and pressing your palms to the cool counter top as you went back and forth between eh kitchen and living room. Some tears fell but your eyes dried and soon enough your lungs stopped convulsing for air. You were still shaking and a knot was still tight in your gut but you had for the time being subdued the panic. With this new clarity you went you your room and pulled out you professional phone, the battery low having not been used in weeks.

You had also received the distress signal:

10 Ave and 4 St. Grand villain activity: League of Villain members sited at scene of disturbance. Requesting all back up in immediate area. Priority: Containment.

League of Villains. You’re stomach dropped, almost painfully. You gripped onto the sheets of the bed as you slid to your knees, panic rising in your chest again. You knew they were among other heroes, that Hizashi wasn’t a frontline fighter and Shouta would have a horde of heroes trying the keep him in play. You knew this. You also knew them, and that they could be stupid. Shouta had climbed a Goddamned tree the other night FOR A CAT. He could have fallen and died for a CAT. You choked down another sob. Hizashi was always the centre of attention and he did it on purpose. What if he tried to distract the villains and got hurt doing it? He’d done that once before on a mission and came home with a nasty concussion.

What if it was worse this time? What if the League was more organized?

You choked on another sob.

Warm arms wrapped around you and you jumped, trying to pull away.

“Hey, whoa, babe it’s me.” Hizashi hummed calmly. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s Zashi.”

He brought a hand to your head and held you against his chest, scooting closer to you in his crouching position. He kissed the top of your head and rubbed circles into your hair with his thumb and held you like that until you were able to calm yourself. “What happened?”

“I got scared.” You sniffed. “And I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.” Hizashi chuckled, pulling back to look at you. His nose was still rosy from the cold and his hair was swept back in messy waves. “Sorry.”

“You should be.” You punched him the shoulder, once for every word.

“Ow!” he whined, holding his arms up in defense.

“You did this to me!” you wailed. Irrational, yes. Cathartic? Also, yes.

“I refuse to take ownership until we get that paternity test!” he laughed somersaulting away from you.

You were just about to give him a piece of your pregnant mind when you heard Sho enter the apartment and trip over a set of paper bags.

“Y/N?” he called. “Hun? Are you, okay?’

Hizashi jumped to his feet and darted out of the room, shouting wildly. “She’s angry!”

You tried to push yourself up to your feel but couldn’t, slumping back down onto the carpeted floor next to the bed. The threw your hands up in the air frustrated, all that panic from earlier having left your body. Being pregnant was a wild ride, whatever you felt was so strong and so consuming at the time, but it could fade just a quickly as it came.

“I’m stuck!” you pouted.

Shouta crept into the door frame, Hizashi hiding behind him. The two of them melting at the sight of you slumped, cross legged on the floor, belly swollen, unable to move. Shouta grinned, that same entertained grin from earlier. He made his way to you and grabbed your hands hauling you to your feet. You slumped into him, reaching out a hand to motion for Hizashi to join in. Not one to pass up a good group hug Hizashi happily wrapped his long gangling arms around you and Shout, ignoring your grunts and he squeezed.

“That didn’t take long.” You mumbled into Shouta’s chest.

“Illusion base quirk, I erased it and it turned out to be a bunch of low levels trying to make a scene to get away with some cash.” Shouta explained. “You okay?”

You nodded and hummed into his chest.

“You sure? There’s soup in the hallway.” His whiskers rubbed against your forehead.

“The baby got scared.” You muttered.

“Oh?” he hummed, as if in thought. He pulled away from you and knelt down, so he was level with you belly. “Listen up little one, there’s nothing in this world that your parents can’t handle so don’t so around worrying us like that okay?”

Hizashi stooped down and eyed your belly very seriously. “Especially, your mom. She’s already doing all the heavy lifting, dude!”

You dropped your face into your hands a laughed. Yeah, this was one lucky kid.

[whentherewerebicycles]

You seem to be really amazing at executing planned changes with food and exercise (and also generally better psychological habits) - can i ask for advice on this? I’ve finished up studying for now and realise my body has turned into a twisted up, pudgy, weakened wreck! Exercise hurts and sugar/processed food feels so cosy and I can’t seem to get through this part where i have to feel discomfort for a while before i feel better!

What works for you? Should i read that atomic habits book you mention? I saw another one recommended - the Kindness Habit - do you know anything about it?

(I tried journaling btw - but it didn’t get me anywhere)

hello!! i can share some things that have worked for me when it comes to implementing longer-term changes in diet and exercise. these seem really simple but i think that actually making big lifestyle changes is much less about summoning up colossal amounts of willpower and much more about making small but important tweaks to the way you think about/approach diet and exercise. here are five things that have been helpful to me.

(1) don’t think of diet changes in terms of restrictions (i.e., “what delicious cozy sugary things do i have to deprive myself of today to be Good”). instead, approach diet changes as a fun little game of adding in as many good things as possible (fruits, veggies, leafy green things, nuts of all kinds, whole grains, beans, etc.). every single time you are preparing a meal or looking for a snack, describe it to yourself as a chance to be creative and resourceful, as you think about fun ways to add in small good things every time you eat. especially in the early weeks, don’t restrict foods from your diet at all. focus solely on finding a creative way to add in something healthy and delicious every time you eat. (i really liked using the daily dozen checklist when i was starting out—they have an app and it’s very satisfying and fun to see how many things you can check off the list each day.)

(2) narrate this “adding-in” game aloud to yourself. for example: “oh—what if i eat a big handful of berries on top of that ice cream?”, or “i’m hungry—ooh, there are carrots in the fridge, aren’t there? i’ll eat three carrots with hummus before i switch over to pita chips”). and every time you figure out a creative way to add in a good food, stop and observe yourself doing it, and let yourself feel a little spark of delight at how clever and creative you’re being. this sounds silly, but i swear it works! part of changing your habits is changing self-talk & especially changing the kind of running narrative you have in your head about who you are and what you do. you can change that narrative in part by repeatedly reframing the way you tell it to yourself, ideally aloud (or aloud in your head) to help you can better “hear” and internalize the new story. instead of “ugh... i ate ice cream again. why don’t i have any self-control? why am i someone who just eats like crap?”, you’re offering your brain an alternate story, one that focuses less on things you perceive yourself as lacking, or on things you ‘failed’ to do, and more on the creative, positive things you did do (“i wasn’t going to eat any fruit today, but wasn’t it great that i remembered we had those frozen berries in the fridge? that’s pretty creative and resourceful of me, and plus it’s a good way to use up something i’d forgotten i even had”).

the “noticing and feeling delighted” part is just as important. to successfully change a habit, you need to find creative ways to make the new habit pleasurable in and of itself. the more pleasure you feel when you do it, the more self-reinforcing the habit itself becomes. you might not experience eating healthy foods as intensely pleasurable (at least at first, especially if you are comparing them with the intense brain-hacking pleasure that super sugary foods give us). so don’t try! instead, focus on making the choice a source of pleasure and delight. "look at how clever i was! look at how creative i can be! look at what a good choice i made! look at how good i am at this game of adding in!” that act of stopping, narrating, and letting yourself feel genuinely pleased with what you’ve just done makes the choice to add something in pleasurable, which in turn can help fuel your sense that this isn’t about having iron willpower or about cruelly depriving yourself of delicious things, but is about playing a fun little game with yourself, creating little challenges or puzzles for yourself throughout the day and then giving yourself positive reinforcement when you figure them out.

(3) manage your environment to set yourself up for success. to paraphrase the atomic habits book: the people who seem to have the best willpower are the people who have to exercise it the least. and they have to exercise it the least because they’ve very effectively managed their environment, arranging things so that the desired choices are easy and “frictionless,” while the undesired choices or habits are more inconvenient or introduce more friction (it’s harder to get to them).

the easy starter version of this (from atomic habits): put the things you want to eat in highly visible places and/or in appealing arrangements, and put the things you don't want to eat in places that aren't visible or that are inconvenient to access. ice cream goes in the very back of the fridge, buried behind all the other stuff. nuts go in a bowl on your desk so that you can idly snack on them while you work. apples and bananas go in a big brightly colored bowl right on the counter, so that every time you pass through the kitchen your eyes are drawn to them. chips go in the bottom cupboard, the one below eye level that you don't use very often, and when you get them out you pour some into a bowl and put them right back in there (instead of leaving the bag out on the counter). make the choice you want to make easy, and make the choice you don't want to make harder to get to.

eventually, the most effective way of managing your environment is just to exercise total control over what comes into your own living space. for me, if i don’t want to eat it, i don’t have it in the house. i typically also place a curbside delivery grocery order so that i don’t have to go into the store—anything that comes into my house is something i made a deliberate choice about ordering, not something i wandered by a shelf and added to my cart because i wanted a treat. something i’ve learned about myself over the years that moderation is just not in my vocabulary—i’m an all-or-nothing person, and it’s SO much easier for me to just not have stuff i don’t want to eat in the house. no ice cream in the house. no alcohol in the house. no fried things, no chips, no candy, etc etc. if someone kindly brings me baked goods that i did not ask for, i genuinely appreciate the gesture, but as soon as they leave i give them to my next door neighbor or dump them in the trash. (SORRY TO PEOPLE WHO BAKE FOR ME!) if it's in the house i'll eat it. if it's not, i won't, and i also won't miss it.

i did do this pretty gradually at first, though! when i switched to a primarily whole food plant-based diet, i focused on playing the adding-in game for a couple weeks, and then when i started getting competitive about it i decided to use my grocery order as a way of creatively boosting my fruit/veggie/etc consumption even more, and in the process i started winnowing out things that took away chances to add in a good thing. i would say it took about three or four weeks to get to my personal ideal state of Nope I Don't Have It In The House.

it takes time, but i’d say that within a month of having only things you want to eat in the house, your cravings will be gone, at least within your own managed environment (going to restaurants or traveling DOES require you to exercise willpower, but there are ways to prepare for this in advance). the good news, though, is that 6-8 months or so of eating like this usually brings with it such improved sleep, mood, energy levels, skin, hair, GI function, etc etc that you start to be like oh my GOD why would i want to eat that horrifying thing?? I KNOW HOW BAD IT MAKES ME FEEL!! I WANT TO POWER MY BODY WITH PLANTS!!!!! in other words, the pleasurable side effects of eating well becomes positively reinforcing in its own right, while the negative effects you experience when you reintroduce sugar or fried things tends to reinforce the idea that those foods Feel Bad.

(4) it's not exercise, it's movement. i too used to hate exercise and found it extremely painful and tedious and horrible. so instead of exercising i just started moving. i canceled my membership at the local dog bar, where i had been taking my dog almost every day to let him run off excess energy, and started talking short walks with him twice a day instead. if you don’t have a dog, offer to walk your friends’ dogs—trust me they will lose their MINDS with joy lol. i think that starting to build in regular walks is the best way to get active again, because walking is typically quite pleasant and it becomes positively reinforcing to like, wave at the same neighbors every day, and see the cute kids next door running around, and notice all the ways that the trees and flowers are changing, and so on.

if you do not find being outside inherently pleasurable (sometimes i do not lol esp if i’m grumpy about having to walk the dog), tie another pleasurable activity to your daily walk. i listen to about six hours’ worth of hockey podcasts a week and i am only allowed to listen to them on my walks, so i end up looking forward to the walk because i’m desperate to hear people talk about My Guys. you can also walk with friends, or call a friend while you’re walking, which is even better than podcasts!! social walks are so much fun and go by so much more quickly. i started out just doing daily 15 min walks, and over the past couple years have built up to walking between 60-90 min a day when i’m at home. sometimes i hate/dread my walk; sometimes i love it and look forward to it. but regardless of how i’m feeling, i do it every day and if i miss it once, i don’t miss it a second time. 

as far as activity goes, i think it’s totally ok to just be a person who walks a lot! but i’ve found that becoming someone who walked a lot helped change my own narrative of myself—I started to think of myself as a walker, an active person who moved a lot every day. and that made it easier to pick up other forms of activity too, or at least to adopt a curious, exploratory attitude towards other forms of movement. also once you start tracking your active minutes you tend to get quite competitive about it! or at least i do, lol. i keep a note on my phone where i write down the date + type of activity + total number of minutes I did after every burst of activity, then at the end of the week i add it all up and compare it to the previous weeks. it makes me want to do more, to beat my own numbers—or it makes me want to keep up a streak (like, if i have a five-week period where i’ve consistently hit a certain level of active minutes every week, i don’t want to break it!!).

my biggest suggestion for exercise, though, is to figure out what kinds of things you enjoy and what kinds of things you don’t, and then to spend all your time doing things you like. i HATE structured fitness classes and workout videos. i hate them so much!!!!!!!! but i love being outside, i love doing solo activities (as opposed to group workouts), and i love doing any form of movement that doesn’t feel like a Planned Workout, capital w. also becoming a hockey fan got me really interested in skating, so i picked up rollerblades and found that to be amazingly fun too (something i can do outside AND something that feels like gliding around effortlessly AND something that makes me feel closer to My Favorite Guys!!!!). you may not have passionate feelings about hockey fandom as i do, but i think it’s really just about being creative—finding a creative way to link something you don’t love to something you do love, or find pleasurable, so that you can start forging those positive associations. 

i spent my first couple years of being more active just walking walking walking, and then this past year during the pandemic when i really ramped up my movement i added in longer walks, hikes, and rollerblading, and i also looked for ways to “habit-stack,” ie attaching an activity i don’t much care for (running; exercise biking indoors; doing squats and lunges) to one i do enjoy (i take my tennis shoes when i go skating and then go for a run immediately afterwards, before i have time to talk myself out of it). there are still all kinds of things i don’t do—i really don’t love strength training + bodyweight exercises yet, and i hate stretching even though I Know I Should, and i know that if i want to get stronger and faster, or build up my endurance, i will eventually need to introduce some element of structured training into my daily movement.

BUT the idea of making those changes seems kind of cool to me now, instead of Horrifying and Dread-Inducing! i feel like all the positive associations i’ve forged have made me more curious and open to ideas i would’ve resisted with my whole being not all that long ago. i found a way to make movement pleasurable, and then (thanks to sports fandom + my tendency to go down research rabbitholes) i found a way to get myself intellectually and emotionally engaged in the general concept of being a highly active person. for me, that combination of real pleasure + intellectual/emotional stimulation is what i personally need to build & maintain good habits.

(also, just shoehorning this in at the end because i like it: the “it’s movement, not exercise” mindset shift was also really helpful to me because it stopped me from thinking of exercise as like, this highly structured, regimented, torturous thing you forced yourself through for a set period of time each day, and helped me instead think of movement as something that humans are designed to do & to naturally enjoy. instead of Forcing Myself to Exercise, i looked for more natural-feeling forms of movement that didn’t feel so artificially divided from my “real life.” i think that helped with reframing my self-narrative, too! it made being active feel more integrated into my daily life, which in turn made it easier to think of myself as an active person, someone for whom movement was just a normal part of daily life and not a thing i had to psych myself up to do every day.)

(5) it takes time to build good habits, but not nearly as much time as you might think, and eventually you stop thinking about how long you’ve been doing something and you just start enjoying it (ie it becomes a genuine change in your lifestyle/thinking, not an artificial thing you have to work hard every day to maintain).

i am not yet AN ATHLETE and may never be, but i often remind myself that it took me a little under 30 years to build up a PROFOUND aversion to exercise, so it’s actually kind of miraculous that in just two years i’ve become someone who genuinely, earnestly, enthusiastically enjoys being active and feels antsy/weird/restless when i can’t get out of the house and move. every small stride i’ve made has strengthened my trust in myself and helped me reframe the narrative i tell myself about what kind of person i am and what i do/don’t do. every time i do the thing (whether it’s exercising or making a delicious healthy dinner) & happily notice myself doing it, i reaffirm to myself that i’m the kind of person who takes care of my body and mind by eating well and spending lots of time moving outside. (as a side benefit, when i spend a lot of time happily noticing things and speaking encouragingly to myself, i also reaffirm to myself that i am a happy person who treats myself kindly and who is always eagerly seeking out experiences that feel joyful and life-affirming.)

plus, the more often you do something, the more opportunities you have to have positive experiences while doing it! not every walk is AMAZING, LIFE-CHANGING, DEEPLY FULFILLING, but like, if i am walking seven days a week, that’s seven opportunities for something cool or fun to happen on a walk (not to mention seven opportunities to reap all the physiological & emotional well-being benefits of exercise!!). and if i am really conscious and intentional about noticing and actively delighting in those positive experiences, i help wire in those positive associations more deeply, and my brain/body increasingly comes to associate movement with happiness, joy, and fulfillment. as the habit of being more active becomes fulfilling in and of itself, i don’t have to expend as much energy tricking or cajoling or bribing myself into doing it.

*

i hope this helps!! i am literally always happy to write extremely long essays in respond to simple anon questions, lol, so if you want to talk more about your own ideas for building better habits please do share!! i can also rec you specific books that i’ve found really useful—both for just like, helping me figure out how to make big changes, and also for providing that intellectual stimulation that gets me more engaged in wanting to eat well & be more active.

(also, on the extremely slim chance that you are also a hockey fan: over in my fandom sphere, we are organizing a fun summer thing inspired by one of our fave hockey players, where we’ll be planning lots of fun fannish community things to get ourselves moving this summer. it’s going to be a good time!!)

[kaleidoscopek9]

ALRIGHT-

SO

I've had this list of headcannons just sitting in my notes app of my phone and I wanna put it somewhere so 👀

(These are heavily inspired by what I could gather from the skele boys in @bonelyheartsclub! I just threw in a few of my own.)

-----------*

Sans

- Does a LOT of stargazing and has quite a few space-themed knicknacks and clothes in his room. He's got a telescope too!

- Dad jokes. Any time is prime dad joke time. He's never let an opportunity slip past him.

- He's an absolute prank master. You're considered lucky if you happen to avoid the ones he's planted around the house like bombs waiting to go off.

- He's cryptic as fuck. Always giving half-true answers to every question. Occasionally he may slip up and give you a brutally honest response, but that's only with the people he trusts most, and he finds being open to be very difficult.

- He's constantly referencing memes and vine quotes from days of yore. He practically has a database of every meme ever in his head, and he doesnt let it go to waste.

- Cuddling with him is basically a one way ticket to nap-town, and you constantly find yourself waking up to him smooshed against you on the couch after dozing off. For being a skeleton, he is a surprisingly comfortable snuggler.

-----------*

Papyrus

-So much baking and cooking. It's his favorite past time, and the kitchen never smells the same when he's done making whatever he's making in there (it's 12 times out of 10 pasta) And while his cooking may be sub-par, you never say no when he asks you to try his latest dish.

- He's always up to go shopping with you. It never matters where. Malls are his favorite, especially the big grand ones with fountains and huge windows. He makes it a point to bring spare cash because you KNOW he's going to ride the mini marry-go-round even if he can barely fit in the seats.

- You two love to binge watch cooking channels. Always discussing which foods would be the most fun to make, writing down recipies, and having a hell of a time trying to pause the show at the right points to get all the information down.

- Papyrus is notorious for game nights. He's always pulling out boards and cards that you've never heard of before and never starts a game until he's absolutely certain you know the rules. Winning of course, is always his prime goal when it comes to games, but if he senses you're on a particularly rough losing streak, he MAY slip up. Occasionally. Just enough so you can win a game or two. Or five.

-----------*

Blue

- Hyper as all hell. You give him a reasonable dose of sugar or caffeine and he could power an entire city for a few hours without breaking a sweat.

- If he had been in high school, Blue would have been a theater kid. He's always humming a tune from a Broadway show or Disney movie, and he's got a pretty good collection of songs on his brother's Spotify playlist.

- This guy will blast Steven Universe music at full volume he has no shame.

- If you are ever driving somewhere with him, an aux cord is a MUST. Singing in the car is a very frequent thing with you two, and you'll only get out after the song is over.

- He likes cryptids! Mothman is his favorite and he firmly believes he exists somewhere.

- He's your workout buddy. If he manages to drag you to the gym with him, that is.

- Blue hates seeing you down in the dumps, and is always trying to cheer you up with his quirky puns and jokes to get you smiling again.

- He'd be the best motivational poster ever. Whenever he picks up that you're going through a rough spot and falling behind on self-care, he knows just what to say to put the spark back in you again.

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Stretch

- Radiates goblin energy.

- A goddamn meme lord.

- He's made two or three widely known viral videos and nobody knows it was him.

- You need someone to go to an anime convention with? Stretch is your guy. He's god awful at planning stuff out, but he'll make sure you both have a good time, no matter what happens.

- He's really big into nerd culture, and he DMs for a dungeons and dragons game every week.

- He'll occasionally smoke, but he doesnt have lungs, so he does it more for shits and giggles than anything else.

- As lazy as he seems, he is very reliable. If he knows it's something important to you, he'll get it done. Chores though, he's a lot more iffy with.

- He really likes bees.

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Red

- Talks big talk, but he's actually a huge softie.

- He's basically a big pillow with sharp teeth that can curse.

- A nervous wreck.

- His brother shops at Hot Topic. He shops at Spencer's. Very convenient.

- He's a pretty big flirt and throws out little compliments and things to butter you up from time to time.

- If you take Red into a Dave and Busters he will win the most expensive prize at the booth in about 2 hours. (He knows how to cheat at every single game)

- He's a competitive gamer, and has a pretty impressive following on Twitch.

- He can go from loud and brash to quiet and insecure in a matter of moments, depending on the situation.

- He loves to bake, although it's something he will never be caught dead doing.

- Comfort is not his strong suit, but he will defend you without a second thought.

- He can be a little clingy and will text you now and again to ask what you're up to, just to ease his mind.

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Boss

- Professionalism is his game.

- The walking embodiment of Hot Topic.

- He loves to listen to rock and screamo music. He's also got a thing for Disney villain songs.

- You need some punk biker or vampiric goth fashion advice? Boss got ya.

- Skellator Man.

- Out of all the skeletons, Boss has the biggest ego.

- He hates admitting he's wrong. He would rather DIE than admit he's fucked up something.

- "I am not nice-"

- He could kill a man with his high heels.

- If it's got spikes he'll probably wear it.

- Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsu

- Did I mention he's a cold blooded tsundere.

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Nox

- Small angery man.

- He listens to a lot of classic and instrumental music. He finds it very sophisticated.

- Wakes up obscenely early in the morning. Always followed by a cup of the most bitter coffee on the planet.

- Comes up with the best insults. He could roast someone so hard that they'd dissolve into a pile of soot. He could glare at you and you'd cease to exist. He's that good.

- WILL step on you without remorse.

- Threatens to kill someone on a daily basis.

- Very rarely has spare time for himself. He's always keeping busy doing something.

- Loves dark, dry humor. A child falling off a swing will have him laughing for a good five minutes.

- Has a stone cold poker face.

- He might have a softer side to him. You may never know because of the walls he's built up around him.

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Rus

- He absolutely adores animals. He volunteers at the local animal shelter and plans on adopting every single dog there.

- Rus has a massive sweet tooth. Donuts are his favorite, and you can easily bribe him with anything sugar coated.

- A road trip master. You put him in a camper and he knows exactly where he's going and what he's doing.

- "Going off grid, fuck yeah- I pull out my credit cards and shred 'em."

- Hiking, camping and geocaching are some of his favorite things to do. He loves to explore the wilderness and it's like he has a built-in compass for finding his way.

- His ideal date is going to a Wal-Mart and causing absolute chaos by riding bikes around and tossing all of the inflatable balls from their displays.

- Cryptidcore energy.

- Rus loves watching Buzzfeed Unsolved and ghost huntings. He's a big fan of Supernatural and Stranger Things, too.

- Stutters and slurs his words a lot. He's got some speech impediments from the gold canines in his mouth.

- A bit lacking when it comes to social skills, but he can be extremely caring and sweet.

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Ash

- Very soft-spoken and awkward. He doesn't get much social interaction and is still figuring some things out.

- He's very self-aware of the wound in his head. Whenever he has to leave the house he wears some sort of hat to cover it up.

- Practically lives in his garden. He understands plants more than he does human beings, and he spends time daily tending to whatever he's growing.

- Him and his brother are both vegetarians, and the smell or sight of meat makes them both feel sick to themselves.

- Has trouble sleeping due to his reoccurring nightmares. He will often sit in his garden late at night to help calm himself.

- Radiates soft energy. He would absolutely give the best hugs out of all the skeletons.

- Very touch-starved. Physical affection is something he rarely recieves, and he probably lingers with touches a lot longer than he should.

- Unintentionally makes God-teir jokes without realizing it.

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Poplar

- Very well-educated in a lot of things. He really likes stocking up on useless factoids and making up his own just to mess with people.

- He answers Jeopardy questions with concerning accuracy.

- He enjoys going out to eat, and he's always up to try fancy foods.

- He likes photography and reading. He is well into the Harry Potter series.

- Poplar is prepared for anything at any time. A lot of stuff doesnt phase him at all, and it's difficult to catch him off-guard.

- He's willing to try anything new, once.

- Always willing to help out with schoolwork if he thinks you're seriously struggling with it.

- He's always carrying around small planners and notebooks to write in so he can keep track of things.