#thank you for sacrificing your dignity just to make me laugh you are so embarrassing its so fucking funny

[dreemurr-skelememer]

i'm glad you support palestine, but can you not support brothers fucking. you freak.

IM FUCKIGN CVRYIGNNGINNG HEJKLPE MME

YOUD RATHER BE MORE UPSET THAT I DONT MIND FICTIONAL INCEST THAN JUST BE HAPPY I SUPPORT PALESTINE?????????????

YALL.........YOUR PRIORITIES ARE GENUINELY OUT THE FUCKING WINDOW HOLY SHIT

remember gang always prioritize fiction over reality youve heard it here first

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Hermoso

Pairings: BNHA Boys x Latinx!reader

Warnings: My very limited knowledge of both bilingual people and also the Spanish language as a whole :I Also Bakugou is back to saying a few no no words

Characters: Bakugou, Todoroki, Kaminari

A/N:

Hello! Just wanted to say thanks to @pstpstpst-kirikirikiri​​ for requesting! I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I am in fact Latina myself (mixed)! Sadly, I'm not fluent in Spanish (I mean, I can kinda understand it when it's spoken, but even then it's ehh) sooo I hope I was able to do this one well! Tell me if there are any glaring issues. I'm generally not very comfortable with doing racially / ethnically-specific readers, but I decided to give this one a go since I have a teeny bit of background in this.

Ignore how I kinda slacked on Shouto's and popped off on Bakugou's ヽ(。_°)ノ

Anyway, enjoy! Mwah!

-Sugar

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Bakugou:

● Alright, so let's say you've got a crush on Katsuki

● But who doesn't? *ahem ahem*

● He's just so handsome?? And low key kinda cute too, when he's not making his crankypants frowny face

● It gets to the point where you toy with the nickname in your head, thinking about cupping his soft cheeks in your hands and murmuring it to him. Hermoso

● Aaand then one day, it slips out. Shoot

● He kinda makes a face at you, just a little confused

● He doesn't speak Spanish, right? So you're okay, right?

● But then it happens again. And later again a third time

● Hopefully he doesn't notice your flustered state each time it happens. For all he knows, it could be casual, right?

You wandered into the common room in search of your notebook. Much to your mild annoyance, you'd forgotten to bring it back up to your room the last time you were down here. You found Bakugou sprawled out on one of the couches—a rare sighting to be honest. He usually holed up in his dorm room to be alone rather than venture out into one of the common spaces. Although it probably helped that the room was otherwise currently empty.

"Hey," you greeted him casually.

As you expected, he scarcely bothered to acknowledge you, only diverting his gaze from his phone for a second before going back to it.

You wandered around the space, checking the floor and table for your item of interest. Really it shouldn't be this difficult. The notebook wasn't in some kind of color that would have been hard to miss against the materials of the room.

Glancing at Bakugou, you weighed your options. There was a chance that someone had accidentally kicked it under one of the couches, so you should probably check there. Then again, you weren't sure whether it was worth crawling around on the floor with your butt in the air in front of your crush. Finally you gave up, sacrificing your dignity to get down on your hands and knees to check.

"The hell are you doing?" came an all-too-familiar voice from above.

"I'm looking for my notebook," you explained curtly, trying to keep your hair from getting too intimately involved with the dust on the floor. "Ugh, I don't see it anywhere," you growled, straightening. "Have you? It's light blue and it's got—"

"You mean this?" Bakugou interrupted you, pulling it out from behind his back with a smirk.

You froze, a scowl bringing your eyebrows together. So it had all been for nothing and he'd just been laughing at you the entire time! "Bakugou!"

"Oh, so it's 'Bakugou' now?" he said, teasing, still holding your notebook up.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" you asked, lunging forward to grab it from his hand.

"I thought you were calling me hermoso."

You stopped dead again, wholly unconscious of the unflattering position you were in.

Oh. Shit.

"You think I'm cute or some shit?" he went on, still smirking at you. "That's what you were saying, right? I looked it up after the second time you—"

Your skin burned with heat, wholly embarrassed he'd discovered your secret. You finally swiped the spiral-bound pages from his hand, turning to leave. It took everything in you to not hang your head with shame as you stepped back in the direction of your room.

"Oi."

Something made you halt in your tracks, even though you were tempted to ignore his call for your attention.

". . . I didn't say you had to stop."

You frowned again, confused. "What?" Turning back to him, you saw a faint flush on his cheeks. He suddenly refused to meet your eyes, staring at the corner of the coffee table.

"It's cute," he mumbled, going back to looking at his phone.

____________

Todoroki:

● Even before you had gotten with Shouto, you couldn't help but find him terribly endearing

● From his blunt and forward personality to his undeniably good looks, you knew you had it bad

● Which is what made it even sweeter when your friend finally asked if you could be just a little more

● The first time you'd spoken the term aloud, you'd had Shou resting his head on your chest, murmuring sweet nothings to him in your own mix of Japanese and Spanish. With your fingers weaving through his bi-colored hair, the boy looked as if he was about to doze off to sleep

● "What does that mean?" he asked softly out of the blue. "Hermoso?"

● You explained it to him, telling him how much he meant to you

● Shouto smiled one of his rare smiles; the one that melted your heart without fail every time

● "I like it," he murmured

● And then that was just what you called him. His favorite of your nicknames worked seamlessly into your relationship

● He liked it because it was so you. He loved your accent and loved hearing the way you spoke it to him

● He probably wouldn't freak out if you used his real name, but he's made it clear that he has a soft spot for being your hermoso

____________

Kaminari:

● Can we just appreciate for a moment how much Denki loves you?

● Mans is more of a simp for you than you are for him, just wow

● Anyway, once you explain to him what hermoso means, he is all about being called that at every opportunity

● He even calls you hermosa/hermoso back! He loves that you two have that together and he absolutely lives for it

● He'd get super pouty if you tried to call him something else. You have a thing going and he never wants to stop

"Denki," you called from your position on his bed, your head leaning upside down off the side. You thought you saw him twitch in his chair at the sound of his name, but otherwise, he didn't seem to have heard you.

"Babe," you tried again, waiting for him to turn away from his desk and face you, or at the very least make a noise in acknowledgment.

And so, frustrated, you began to playfully cycle through pretty much every nickname you could think of, keeping your voice in an odd monotone in an effort to capture his attention. "Denks. Kami. Honey. Cariño. Baby. Love of my life."

You frowned to yourself when he still refused to look at you. "Hermoso," you drew out in a whine as your final attempt.

He spun around with a grin, finally meeting your eyes. "Yeah? What is it?"

You snorted out a laugh. "I just wanted to say I love you."

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Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @basicaegyo​ @hyunmin-1404​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sxngwoos-ash-box​ @xoxopam4​

[oinkz]

dilemma

— one late night, iwaizumi finds you at his door, drunk on fatigue and desperate to be held. he’s all but willing to give into your desires, however, he’s in the middle of a slumber party with his best friend. (gn!reader)

— tooth-rotting fluff, slight iwaoi, 2.3k words

“How did you even drive here? You can barely even walk,” your boyfriend wonders out loud, wrapping his arms around you to carry you bridal style and push his front door closed.

“I can manage,” you reply simply. It was a bit dangerous - getting up and having to unlock your car during this hour, but with the way Iwaizumi holds you, you forget all about that immediately.

All you know is that he’s warm, and he makes the perfect remedy to your insomnia. Already, you can feel the ache in your bones melting away with his touch.

You hum into his neck, your mouth naturally forming a dopey grin. “Mmmm, I like this.”

For a moment, he allows himself coo at your adorable state. How could he not? With every second, you’re losing sense of your surroundings. The more dazed you become, the firmer your embrace around his neck is. It’s a testament as to how much you trust him, and how much his presence comforts you.

But the fond gleam in his eyes is quick to fade when he reminds himself that just a few rooms away is Oikawa setting up for his 20 step nighttime routine -  even on a sleepover.

Usually Iwaizumi grumbles about how it’s only one night - he can go one day without partaking in his entire skincare routine and come out okay - but today, it’s a blessing. Because Oikawa has no clue that you two are dating.

He’s suspected it, sure, but he’s never pushed it.

So, this is a bit of a dilemma. You’re exhausted and so deserving of an entire night’s worth of rest, but this was nowhere close to how your boyfriend wanted to come forward with his relationship with you - to be found cuddling in the living room. Already, Iwaizumi can hear the teasing comments of his best friend, and dare he says it, he’s a bit scared.

Iwaizumi is known to be a tough love sort of guy, so what is Oikawa supposed to think when he finds the ever so rough-around-the-edges spiker so weak in the knees? He’s spent far too long trying to break down tough exterior for you - to love you wholeheartedly... However, pride is a dangerous thing.

He doesn’t feel the need to have dignity around you. You have seen him in four out of five of his Godzilla onesies, and he has guarded the outside of a public restroom when your stomach had a very apparent reaction to the ice cream he had bought earlier that day. There is no need to be prideful in a comfortable, loving relationship.

But with Oikawa? Iwaizumi is a complete narcissist. Ever since his early childhood days, there was always something so fulfilling about beating him. Just recently, Iwaizumi was laughing over how the lunch lady gave him an extra loaf of bread, whereas Oikawa only received one.

Iwaizumi knows his best friend well enough to predict that Oikawa is going to be the bane of his (and your) existence. He’s going to tease and laugh, and as tough of a cookie your boyfriend is, there is only so much he can take before he starts to become self conscious about his affection.

Very subtly, Iwaizumi loosens his grip on you. Perhaps, out of nervousness.

“Could you let go for a bit? I’m gonna set you down on the couch,” he says, and you audibly whine.

“Noooo,” you slur out, lips pushed into a pout. “Then you’re gonna leave.”

“.... I’m not going to leave.”

It’s true - he wasn’t. But he at least wanted to distance himself enough so you two were in a less... intimate position.

“I’m so tired... please, Haji.” Your voice is barely a breathe, and instantly, his eyes soften.

He sighs reluctantly, pulling you in closer once again.

“Okay, baby. I won’t leave,” He whispers into your ear, so gently that it almost makes you sob. Maybe it’s the effects of sleep deprivation making you more emotional, but you swear on your life that you love this man.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction before planting a kiss on his neck.

“Why do you seem so tense?” you ask, taking note of the visible muscle tension on his shoulders.

“It’s just...” he starts, hesitantly. “Oikawa’s over for a sleepover tonight.”

“... He is?”

“Yeah. He’s in the bathroom right now, actually.”

You contemplate for a bit, dark thoughts creeping into your head. “Are you... ashamed of me?”

“No, y/n, of course not. You’re perfect,” he assures you without wasting a second. “You know how Shittykawa can be, though.”

“So, annoying?” You suggest.

“And troublesome,” he adds with a small smile.

“And obnoxious.”

“And punchable.”

“And loud.”

“And a pain in the ass.”

You burst into laughter. “You love him.”

Iwaizumi can’t help but break into a wide grin at the sound. “Don’t say that in front of him, though, or he’ll never shut up about it.”

Soon enough, you two are on the couch, limbs tangled together. Very slowly, your consciousness is slipping through your fingers as he draws ‘I Love You’s into your skin and talks about anything and everything. It’s sweet, natural, and nothing short of intimate.

“He’s going to be super annoying about this,” He grumbles. Though you were only half-paying attention to what he was going on about, it didn’t take much for you to understand he was talking about his beloved, Oikawa.

You sigh, and the ever so self-sacrificing part of you feels guilty. 

“... I’ll leave if you’re not ready to reveal us to him.” Your voice is suddenly serious.

However, Iwaizumi only flicks the back of your head in amusement. “And why would I let you do that? You practically sobbed when I asked if I could let go of you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You hiss between the teeth of your growing smile.

At this point, you two are giggling on the couch like a loved up married couple... which is essentially what you two are. Except, not married. 

But Iwaizumi can see it - him and you under the altar. He can see the subtle changes in you, in your demeanor, and how comfortable you’ve grown to become with him. It’s an indicator that this was real, healthy, yet exhilarating all the same. And that was all he needed to know that he was going to be stuck in this thing with you for... a long time.

“Fuck, I love you,” Hajime tells you for no reason other than to say them. His laughter has died now, and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You have to clench your teeth to stop your heart from bursting right then and there.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, weakly. You don’t even realize that that was all you needed to sleep, because momentarily, you’re letting the tide of his breathing guide you to a slumber.

He leans downwards to kiss your nose, but with the way your nose scrunches in response, he can’t help but peck you again. One kiss becomes two, two becomes three, and shortly, he’s smothering your face in kisses.

“You’re so cute,” he murmurs without thinking. “Wish you would take care of yourself more, though.”

As if you can hear him in your sleep, you shuffle slightly, nuzzling into his neck.

Opting not to speak any further, he closes his eyes, trying so hard to stop smiling. But you’re here, arms wrapped around him like your life depends on it.

What time was it, again? Why were you two on the couch instead of his bed? Your relaxation is so contagious, Iwaizumi’s surroundings are becoming some sort of blur.

He even forgets what letter he left off on as he was writing ‘I Love You’s on your back, so he ends up writing ‘I Lvve Yoou’ instead this time. He takes it as a sign that he should probably sleep as well.

Right before he falls asleep, he lets himself have one last thought. Maybe if he pulls you in closer, he’ll find you in his dreams, too—

“Well, well, well,” a voice from afar cuts into his train of thought, and instantly, Iwaizumi’s weariness disappears. His eyes snap open, and there Oikawa was, standing by the entrance of his living room.

The grin splayed across his lips is wicked. Too wicked.

“Never thought I’d see you so soft, Iwa-chan,” The brunette mused.

Iwaizumi pushes his lips out to form a menacing glare, but if anything, it comes across as intimidating as an angry chihuahua. “Go away, Shittykawa.”

As if he doesn’t hear his best friend, Oikawa continues. “I’ve always had my suspicions... but this is something else.”

“Yeah, you caught us,” Iwaizumi sighs out, defeated. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, but they couldn’t sleep at home so... here we are.”

Oikawa squints his eyes behind his spectacles, forming a thoughtful expression.

“... I’m happy for you,” he finally settles with, after a long moment.

Unknowingly, Iwaizumi tenses in your arms. He prays to god that you don’t sense it.

“What?” he practically whispers, dumbfounded.

The brunette has to suppress a laugh.

“I’m happy for you,” Oikawa reiterates, stronger this time. And he really is.

Tooru has watched the spiker since he was just barely five feet tall, followed him around when he would catch bugs and set them free, took him in many times when he caught a fever, paid for practically half of his Godzilla merchandise, and now... he’s watching Hajime lose himself to love. He’s touched, really.

(Although, he wont lie - Oikawa finds it hard to believe Iwaizumi managed to find someone before him.)

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi mumbles, uncharacteristically awkward.

Oikawa smiles. “Y/n’s out of your league, by the way.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, because he definitely knows. And once again, their dynamic is restored to its friendly nature.

“Go to sleep, Trashykawa. You can take my bed.” With that, Iwaizumi boyfriend pulls in closer to his chest.

The brunette nods, “Alright, alright. Let me get a glass of water, first.” He takes a few steps forward and the hardwood creaks from under him, causing him to blush in embarrassment.

“Wake them up, and I’ll kill you,” Hajime shoots the setter a look.

Oikawa huffs, offended. “So mean, Iwa-chan! Not my fault your floors creak!”

“I said go to sleep!” Now, Iwaizumi is glaring daggers into his best friend.

“Okay, okay,” his best friend raises his arms in surrender. “Geez, you’re too—”

“Do you guys ever shut up?” You ask suddenly, voice lower than usual. Iwaizumi instantly reddens in shame.

“Sorry Assikawa’s so loud,” your boyfriend whispers.

“I heard that!” Oikawa whines, pouting at both of you.

You frown. “You’re just as loud, Haji. I’m right in front of you.”

“... I’m sorry, baby.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Tooru mimicks, voice two octaves higher.

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” you and Hajime retort in unison.

“I take it all back, Iwa-chan. You both are big meanies,” the brunette cries, and suddenly, your boyfriend is sitting up and leaning forward to reach a sofa cushion that’s rested on top of his feet.

Oh, Lord.

More playful jabs are thrown at each other, and next thing you know, Iwaizumi and Oikawa are thrusting sofa cushions at each other. You sit up as well, arms crossed in annoyance.

Under normal circumstances, you would join in on the fun and gang up on Oikawa with your beloved boyfriend. But these are not normal circumstances. You are currently running on three hours of sleep, and to put it simply... you’re cranky. So cranky, you could punch someone without feeling even a bit of remorse.

All you wanted was to get a full eight hours sleep in your boyfriend’s arms for the night, was that so impossible? Well, apparently it was, because the chaos runs for another half an hour without rest.

And all you do is sit in the middle of it, hoping to pass out already.

Unfortunately, you do not pass out, and you have to weakly force yourself to get up from the sofa and into your boyfriend’s room to finally gain a bit of attention.

“Sorry,” Hajime mumbles as he enters the room, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Whatever,” you murmur into his pillow, burying your nose into his very own scent.

The bed dips from beside you, and an arm slithers around your waist. To his surprise, your grip around his pillow only tightens.

“Aw, baby...” He whisper into your ear sadly, and you hate how you can feel your body subconsciously wanting to move in closer.

But you don’t, all due to pride.

“We’ll sleep in the entire night, okay? Tomorrow, too,” He tells you, rubbing gentle circles into your stomach.

“‘Jus wanted to sleep...” You breathe out, your cheeks warming at how emotional you sound right now. Damn you, sleep deprivation, you curse inwardly.

“And you can,” he says softly. He kisses your shoulder and makes his way up to the back of your neck, slowly and so, so affectionate. “Just c’mere already. You’re too tense.”

You groan because he’s right, and he always is. You want to punch the stupidly big grin on his face as you begin to turn and face him, pressing your chest flush against his.

He’s a human heater so perfectly made for you. Immediately, his warmth seeps past your skin and goes right through your heart. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, immersing yourself in him completely.

You can’t really breathe all that well in this position, but whatever. You could suffocate in his arms, for all you cared. This feels too good, and you’ve lived a good life, anyway - a good enough life to have this teddy bear of a man be your lover.

“Good night, Hajime,” You say, muffled against his skin. You can’t see it, but his eyes light up with adoration.

“Sweet dreams, my sleepy baby,” he coos, peppering the top of your head with kisses.

Needless to say, you ended up getting ten hours of sleep that night, and in that time, Oikawa rewatched ET and made a full batch of pancakes all by himself. So much for bonding and spending extra time with his best friend.

[uwua3]

Hello! I'm a new follower and I just love your writing so far!! You're really good at depicting The Whole Scene™ so you made me love my favs even more 😳 It's like my heart melts when I get to the extra soft parts 💖 If it's alright, may I request some fluffy hcs of Banri and/or Juza with a soft/baby-ish s/o who likes cute things? Or in general an s/o who's kind of opposite to either of them 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you! 💞

hi!!! welcome to my writing blog~ :D i’m so happy you said that 🥺 (i appreciate the trademark no Suing in this household) i’m so glad when it gets soft it makes your heart go 💕💞💓💗💖💘💝 always feel like that!!! i’d be more than honored to baby the two tough boys of autumn~ they are secretly Baby no i do not take criticism but you’re welcome!!!

summary: this is the one time major misunderstandings work out for the best

warnings: swearing

author’s note: hello, everyone~ it’s been 4 days since i last posted a fic TT i’m so sorry!!! i hope this makes up for the absence~ it’s a bit long! please love banri and juza with all your heart ♡ fair warning, i design both readers to have dresses on but everything else is gender–neutral :D

word count: 6,482 (total) — 3,532 (banri), 2,950 (juza)

music: liar liar – oh my girl (banri), just right – got7 (juza)

sugar, spice, and everything nice!

🍁🥇 settsu banri

banri was thrifting and saw the most god–awful, terrible piece of clothing he had ever had the misfortune of seeing in his life

it was a bublegum pink sailor uniform esque shirt, embellished with the most pastel ribbons and lacy accessories ever, and was decorated to put harajuku to shame

“who the hell would want to buy this shit?” banri muttered to himself, holding it up to grimance at the girly details that hang from the ugliest shirt he had ever came across. before he could put it back to hide amongst the clothing rack, a gentle, barely noticeable tap on his shoulder made banri turn his head with a glare

“what—” banri’s eyes widened, his jaw slightly dropping. oh my god, if there was a human embodiment of the fucking shirt he was holding, you would literally be it

you were nervously smiling at him, clad in a pastel pink lolita–styled dress, with even more bows at the corset bodice and ruffles at your poofy skirt. you had the largest singular lace bonnet in your curled hair and adorned the biggest, widest circular glasses (they had to be fake). you clasped your hands together with a high–pitched laugh, banri wanted to disappear and never come back to the store again

how could people like you just exist? you walked around like a doll everyday and for what? banri looked down at his clothing for a second, all black again. maybe, he shouldn’t be talking if he was like death everyday...

“sorry~ but are you interested in that shirt?” you asked cutely, batting your eyelashes as you looked up at banri. he blinked, not realizing he was still holding the fashion industry’s worst abonimation as he quickly tossed it towards you, not bothering to check if you even caught it

“no, bye.” banri forced out, moving from the aisle to leave the godforsaken pastels and bright colors. it was all giving him a headache, there was no way this color spectrum ever existed to someone and they liked it. everybody move over because banri was gonna puke

banri flipped through more clothes, pushing through the racks with ease, trying to push the mental image of pink out of his mind until something landed on his head

quickly pulling it off with a scowl, banri deadpanned at the shirt. pink, sailor uniform, ugly ribbons and bows, check. it was that shirt again... what the—

you stood next to him, with the most angelic smile possible despite the passive aggressive look in your eyes. banri noticed your hair was slightly messed up, that he must’ve done something. he never thought he’d fight a pastel lolita in the middle of one of his favorite thrift stores, but here he was, glaring down at you like it was a big deal

“what do you want?!” banri cursed, about to throw the shirt back to you before you forced it in his hands, surprising him with the amount of force your short self managed to produce. you smiled even bigger, and banri suddenly knew he couldn’t cause a scene because no one believe him if you started a fight

“let me pick your clothes!” you offered, yet there was no room for disagreement. oh god, this was revenge for screwing up your look, wasn’t it? banri blanked again, about to tell you to fuck off before he called security (yeah, security on the most non–threatening person here), before you shoved another outfit into his arms

“go change! i want to see you in it!” you insisted, banri’s eye twitched as he took in the colors. all various shades of pink... you did know there were other colors right?

maybe it was because he knew you would start a scene if he didn’t try, but banri mumbled something about annoying people and their loud fashion sense before slipping into a dressing room. you clapped when banri begrudgingly agreed to it, pissing him off even more

(you didn’t know why you were forcing this stranger to be pastel for once. one look at his all–black attire and you felt a part of your soul die for a second)

when you heard the most dragged–out, emphasized swear behind the door, you knew you had to see it

“are you okay in there~?” you asked, waiting patiently outside with a devious smile. revenge was sweet, you almost forgot about how that shirt had messed up your hairstyle for the day

(banri suddenly regretted ever messing with you, you were the devil in pink)

“i know we just met, but fuck you.” banri deadpanned, stepping out from behind the curtain with the resignation of a quitter. you threw your hands over your mouth, stifling your snickers as you observed him top to bottom, wondering how you even fathomed such a creation

banri stood before you in the same sailor shirt, ribbons and bows alike, that somehow fit him. you had given him basic pink shorts that clased with his giant black boots (he made a stomping sound whenever he walked)

“i hate this, i am never wearing this again.” banri admitted without difficulty, expecting you to go away so he could shop in peace but you giggled, nodding in satisfaction at your mistake. he couldn’t believe it, he was embarrassing himself and sacrificing his dignity just because some moral conscious was aware he probably ruined part of your fit

“i’ll buy it for you!” you said and banri pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing with so much exhaustion even though it was the afternoon. is this how sakyo felt dealing with three kids all day? banri was this close to calling him up just to apologize for all the batshit crazy things he’s done

“no.” banri stated, not offering an explanation before turning around, about to head back into the dressing room before you stopped him, pouting your lips with a stubborn look

“come on! why not? i’ll do anything!” you pleaded, giving him your biggest puppy dog eyes as you kept repeating “please~” loudly. banri was about to tell you off before he noticed the store customers glancing at the odd duo, groaning before he rubbed his face

“anything?” banri asked, realizing his mischevious smirk was back on his face as you narrowed your eyes at him, wondering what the hell he was planning

when you hesitantly nodded, banri wolfishly grinned as he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms and looking down at you (you would’ve burst into laughter at how banri tried to look intimidating in pink if you weren’t too plagued by your surprise at his sudden attitude change)

“okay, let me pick your next outfit.” banri said and you winced at the memory of his previous outfit, considering your options before shaking his hand, knowing whatever was about to happen would be one for your social media

it only took about two hours before you actually agreed to try anything on banri picked. it was all animal print, mismatched neon colors, and flannel. you refused every single time he held anything up, bruising banri’s ego even further

“jesus, you have no taste.” banri complained, just wanting to see the most pastel person he’s seen wear something normal for once. you two bickered easily, fighting like there was no tomorrow and warranting nervous glances from the store employees (who nearly alerted security when they saw you almost knock over a whole display chasing after banri)

finally, banri chose something you wouldn’t be caught dead in. it was close to what he had before, a black turtleneck with a silver–zip bomber jacket. he was nice enough to choose a black pleated skirt for you to wear with black oxford that had 3d white daisies

you actually liked it, believe it or not

in return, you adjusted your pick for him (much to banri’s relief when he muttered “thank god” as you put the pink sailor shirt back). you adjusted the theme to be a mixture of black & pink, picking a pink sweater with a black stitched heart surrounded by lace that read “i’ll kill you” and a pink button down underneath. you let him wear basic black pants (just so he wouldn’t have actually killed you) and found the cutest pink sneakers with black shoelaces!

by the time both of you finished, banri didn’t seem as mad and actually nodded at your choices

“not bad, punk.” banri joked as you swatted at his arm, ignoring the way he rolled his eyes at your antics. you two made your way into opposite changing rooms and went out at the same time, staring at each other wide–eyed for about three seconds before banri pushed his finger in the center of your forehead with a smirk

“see! you don’t look as bad now.” banri winked as you nearly kicked him, rubbing your forehead with a frown. you two fought all the way to the cash register, paying for each other’s new outfits as you wore them out the door, holding your originals in a bag

“happy now? gotta go or else my friends are gonna kill me.” banri rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pant pockets as he was about to go the opposite way. you grabbed his sleeve, impatiently shoving your phone in his face as he adjusted to seeing his own pissed off expression stare back at him

“you have to take a picture with me!” you insisted, your bubbly demeanor really not fitting your “goth” approach (courtesy of banri, of course)

banri glared, knowing this wasn’t apart of the deal before you feigned sadness, wrapping your arms around yourself as you looked around like it was really unfortunate

“oh... are you not photogenic? that’s too bad...” you mocked him, pretending to not notice banri’s fists clench as he furrowed his eyebrows. of course he was good at taking photos! he’d show you, alright

“give me your phone.” banri demanded, taking it without a warning and holding it at a distance with an effortlessly cool pose, doing his usual smirk with a casual peace sign

“say ‘worst day ever’.” banri snapped the picture when you got into frame, putting your chin on his shoulder due to your height difference as you smiled cutely, contrasting his entire vibe

when you actually went through the selfies, they were perfect. damn it! of course he was good at everything, including somehow making black look good on you and be the ultimate photographer

“let me tag you, these are actually...” you were about to say something else until you noticed he was walking away, not bothering to say goodbye as you called his name

“yo, banri! what’s your instagram handle?” you yelled, holding your phone up. banri didn’t even look behind him, just throwing up a single middle finger towards you as he turned the corner. what a typical teenage boy

it was so like him, you didn’t even bother chasing after banri as you posted the set of photos you took with him with the caption “worst day ever with this emo punk, someone find him for me”

when banri made it the dorms, he took out his phone for the first time in forever and felt the vibrations. he never got this many notifications, itaru was probably telling him to get online or he’d beat his ass—oh

oh, you didn’t

kazunari (of course it was him) had tagged him in a familiar picture, with too many emoticons and exclamation points to begin with. banri scrolled through the comments, all complimenting his cool face despite being in pink (banri already knew that) and... wait... shipping you two?!

you two were completely different! if you two stood next to each other, you’d be two opposite ends of any spectrum possible. yet, banri couldn’t help but read all the comments on your post, saying how you two looked good together

banri zoomed in on the photo and moved to your face and huh... maybe they were onto something...

banri clicked on your profile and as expected, it was all soft like sanrio personally made it. you were an angel in each of your pictures, posing with stuffed animals, pastel café sweets, and anything that looked like it came out of a kid’s show. banri was scrolling mindlessly, screenshotting some as he slouched on the sofa, exhaling sharply through his nose at some childish pun you had in your captions

when banri was near the beginning of your feed, it had happened. he accidentally tapped too fast (blame it on his gamer hands), liking your picture from years ago

banri paused. after a minute, banri slowly unliked your picture, shut the app, and threw his phone across the room. it landed on the other couch with a thump as banri slid down the seat with the loudest groan ever, covering his face as he refrained from screaming

that’s what he got for stalking your entire fashion page despite hating your style

the damage had been done. you followed him and instantly dm–ed him with the full, unedited selfies of you two

(banri didn’t follow back until like, a month later for no reason other than he was petty)

banri became your immediate go–to fashion guru, believe it or not. moving past his horrific sense of animal print, he actually wasn’t that bad at picking clothes (banri said it was something about growing up with an older sister)

whenever you needed advice on an outfit, you sent him a text and got a response within minutes (the more he hated it, the more you wore it). any time you went to another up and coming clothing store, he was by your side (unwillingly holding your bags with multiple threats). banri even took your pics for your page, pretending like it was a huge nuisance whenever you asked anyone to take a photo (they always came out awful and he claimed he was tired of hearing you whine 24/7)

you and banri’s interest in fashion was the foundation of a competitive and sarcastic friendship that formed between you two. you exaggerated your pink clothes by making sure to be as pastel as possible whenever you hung out with him, and banri made a point to be all–black and dark down to his silver earrings despite the weather

you posted him more and more on your socials despite his style clashing with your feed. your followers seemed to love him, hyping up his coolness even if you two bullied each other in the comments like an old married couple. it was becoming expected to see banri’s account tagged every time you gave him credit for the post (he always used it against you just to make you mad)

over time, when banri went to see you, he didn’t insult your style anymore even if he tried to (his insults were even half–assed). he took your bags on his own accord and acted like they didn’t weigh a thing. he started taking more photos of you on his own phone, like it wasn’t a big deal he had shocks of pastel throughout his rather dark camera roll

banri didn’t know when it happened, but the moment he looked at the pink sweater you bought him the first time he met you and didn’t react, he knew

oh shit, he didn’t hate pink (or you) anymore. he might have even... liked it

(he might have even liked you)

it was nearly closing time, the employee about to close up shop before banri was seen sprinting towards them, barely out of breath as he skidded to a stop near the concerned worker (understandably so, since it was dark and a whole teenager nearly trampled them)

“oh? banri? what are you doing so late?” the employee recognized the regular customer and banri almost threw up at what he was about to request. he took a moment to compose himself before banri sighed, gesturing towards inside the store

“you remember that really ugly pink sailor shirt that is probably a fashion crime?” banri asked and it didn’t take long before the worker nodded, even grimancing at the memory of such a loud shirt

“yes, no one is really willing to buy it—” the employee was interrupted by a wad of money from inside banri’s wallet as he went through it, wincing at his own purchase that he clearly didn’t want

“i’ll take it. keep the change.” banri went home that day with the same pink shirt he swore he would never wear again

the next day, banri was dressed and the whole dorm went silent. no one dared breathe a word, and banri rolled his eyes, crossing his arms

“what’s wrong? never seen a man wear pink before?” banri raised his eyebrows, casually getting ready to go see you with his backpack strapped. once again, everyone was staring at him (when he left the dorms, the room burst into hysterical laughter)

when you saw banri in that shirt, you suddenly knew. it was as if his behavior made sense, this is way of telling you he didn’t hate you as much as he acted to

as he came up to you pretending like he was still cool in the most pastel pink shirt ever, you couldn’t help but grab him by the sailor collar and give him something long overdue

(the whole mankai company spammed your page with fairy cyberbully comments and likes when you posted a picture of banri in the sailor shirt with the caption: “best boyfriend ever”)

(you ended up keeping the sailor shirt, banri claimed it suited you a lot more than it did for him) (damn, not even one insult about how ugly it was when you expressed how much you loved it)

ever since, your feed became more of punk pastel than anything. anything you wore, banri most likely had in black. you two even shared jewelery and banri often mixed up your earrings with his own (you loved his piercings and often bought the most intricate ear cuffs just to see them on him)

despite your opposite styles, you guys actually shared many of your items together like clothes, accessories like bucket hats and backpacks, even make up! (it took quite some time before banri accepted you painting his nails though, at first it was black, now he allows the occassional pink middle finger if you ask)

(banri liked it the most when you two had matching nails, it was just satisfying to see when holding hands)

you guys were also that gamer couple. you know what i’m talking about, if you guys had a gaming room together, half the room would be pastel pink and his set up was a basic all black

(you two had matching cat headphone sets, yours obviously the pink ones and banri pretended to hate his own pair of ears)

(they really weren’t that bad, he even began wearing it around his boys despite the jokes)

(“shut up, bastard! my partner likes them!”)

as expected, you two got stares every time you went out in public. while you were bright and happy from the anime sparkles around you to your adorable, enthusiatic energy, banri was always by you looming over everyone with a sharp glare and even more aggressive tongue

but this was unexpected: you had banri whipped. wrapped around your finger, even if he would never admit it

(he could go one moment cursing someone out, threatening a fight before he talked to you with a quieter, more relaxed tone. of course he could start shit with you, but for some reason, his voice and demeanor automatically became nicer when he saw you)

(this meant he could never stay mad at you for too long)

an example of banri being absolutely soft for you would be the time you were about to dye your hair and he wanted in

while he was helping you equally do the style and making sure it fit your liking, you giggled at the sight of your boyfriend in the mirror, focusing intently on your hair and the two seperate dyes

“ri, have you ever thought of black hair?” you asked nonchalantly as banri brushed the dye on your hair, giving him a moment to think as he shrugged

“eh, i already dye my hair. never thought about that color.” banri responded, already too busy making sure your hair was completely covered (he was a good hair stylist even if he had never done it before)

“what do you think about matching hairstyles?”

it felt like deja vu. when banri walked into the dorms again, everyone was staring at him. except this time, it wasn’t his sweater (he was back to all–black this time), but his head

oh my god, his hair. his vibrant, half–pink and half–black hair now

“you like that person so much! you dyed your hair that shade of pink?!” practically everyone in mankai was aware banri was whipped for his one and only angel, even if it looked like he came out of hell himself just to be with you

whenever banri saw pink now, he didn’t hate it anymore, and he especially didn’t hate you

🍁🍰 hyodo juza

when juza saw you, he felt like he was on a sugar rush from how cute you were

it was another day helping the director with her grocery shopping and an extra amount of time allowed the two to visit the new bakery that opened downtown

while izumi was making small talk with the server, juza awkwardly hung behind her as he tried to not make it obvious he just wanted to eat every single dessert in the family business

as he was counting the tiles on the floor (how did they design them to look like it was made out of candy?!), a swish of a puffy skirt moved past his line of sight as juza glanced up, feeling like he had downed a whole box of those valentine’s candy hearts at once

you were a waitress, happily bringing customer orders to their tables with the cutest smile ever. you wore a mint green & brown uniform with a big bow at your dress shirt collar, floating around like a fairy with a trey at your hand and gracefully taking requests in the other. if “you are what you eat” was true, you would’ve only ate sweet foods because you were that adorable

then, juza noticed you had some really nice hair clips and thought they were super cute

when you looked up from writing something on your notepad (he noticed it was really elegant cursive), you caught his eye and it was like love at first sight for juza

for you, not so much

you had made eye contact with the most intimidating, tallest boy in the entire bakery. you nervously smiled, waving before hurrying into the kitchen, feeling his stare on your back as you hid in the break room with a sigh of relief

just your luck! you had met some guy who probably didn’t even like sweets, he looked like he wanted to fight you or something! why was he staring at you like that? you anxiously peeked your head from the door frame and went back immediately when you noticed he was looking for you

oh no, was some thug trying to fight you? in a bakery?

when izumi finished up her conversation and bought a speciality cake to go, juza obediently followed her outside as he glanced back behind the counter, trying to spot your unique hair accessories again

as the bell above his head rung, he knew he had to come back to see you and find out where you bought those dessert–themed clips

at first, it began with casual visits, pretending to survey the area after explaining his association with mankai in the most bare minimum way possible. you didn’t struggle convincing someone else to cover your shift quickly when you noticed the scary tall guy up front. then, it became ordering random things to go and hoping he’d at least see you to ask a simple question. you did everything to hide behind tables, hoping you wouldn’t have to confront the gangster

(“he’s back again?! how many more desserts can he order?” you whined, poking your eyes over the front desk to see his frame entering past the window)

for some reason, juza couldn’t stop thinking of your hair clips. they were sweets, for goodness sake! nothing had made him happier, they were so tiny and adorable, they brought him instant serotonin even if he had some tough image

(maybe you were also super cute too, and he just needed an excuse to see you)

after weeks or so of failed attempts to catch you working, juza began sitting down and eating in the bakery, much to your misfortune

“how can i avoid him now if he spends a hour here every afternoon?!” you panicked even though juza’s back was turned to you. he happily ate his food, getting distracted by the quality of the sweets to notice you were basically staring at him

“are you sure he wants something from you? he comes here every day, he seems like a nice boy.” the owner vouched in his favor after talking to the offstandish teen at the register. sure, he was a bit rough around the edges, but he was much more respectful than any of the rotten kids who came in the shop!

ugh! the baker didn’t get it, there was no way someone like that didn’t want to start something with you!

out in the dining area, it took all the sugar in his body to actually make juza ask for a very specific server in detail. when someone had brought him his strawberry milk, juza cleared his throat with an awkward attempt at a smile (it looked more like a grimance than anything)

“uh... do you know if, a server with candy hair pins is here?” juza murmured, looking down at the table with an embarrassed blush as the waiter didn’t think anything of it, calling your name without another warning. you squeaked, dropping behind the counter as juza tilted his head in confusion

(why were you hiding? was there something wrong? what happened? juza thought, unaware he was actually the problem)

when you heard a series of footsteps stop near you, you hesitantly looked up from your crouching position and saw juza staring down at you with a concerned expression. his eyebrows were furrowed and he had his hand out

you took his hand and closed your eyes, fearing for your life. was he gonna yank you to your feet? push you over? trip you so you’d fall for real? you weren’t ready for a fight!

yet, none of that happened. juza gently lifted you up and made sure you were fine by observing your outfit to see if anything was wrinkled, muttering something about being careful and staying safe

you blinked, trying to process how incredibly wrong you were. juza was perhaps the nicest customer you had met in your entire career as a server, even taking the time to actually confirm you were okay with no ill intentions whatsoever

(suddenly, you remembered all the times you actively avoided juza and felt the guilt as he nodded at you, unintentionally lowering his height so he’d seem more approachable)

“sorry to bother you, but uh...” juza trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase his next sentence. before you could respond, his hand landed on your hair and a beat of silence passed between you two

“cute.” juza forced out, and wanted to slap himself. cute?! no, say cute hair clips, ask where you got them! juza was internally panicking and you were doing the same as you looked up at him with wide eyes

it was so awkward and humiliating, juza couldn’t pull his hand away because his whole body was on shutdown. oh god, what could he do now? this was possibly the worst first impression in human history

“i’m cute?” you warily asked, staring at him with a slightly amused expression as juza blanked. you felt his hand subtly shake as it was your turn to be concerned over how red his face was

“no—i mean, yes, but, not like that! i mean...” juza finally lifted his fingers to poke at your hair decorations and you let out a sound of understanding, pointing at your own clips

“oh? you mean these?” you asked and juza nodded, like he was extremely thankful you understood him. he pushed his hands behind his back, nervously leaning back and forth on his feet as he looked away like the cupcake display was the most interesting thing in the world (it probably was)

“where did you, uh, get them?” juza quietly questioned and you giggled, patting them proudly as you stood a little bit taller from the unintentional praise

“i made them! thank you for asking!” you smiled, about to move away before juza accidentally held onto your arm, releasing his hold when he saw your shock. he definitely needed to learn how to be more socially acceptable one of these days or else he was gonna get in big trouble

“can i commission you?” juza muttered and there began your friendship with the big tough delinquent juza who really adored small, cute things (like yourself!)

any time juza was particularly fascinated with a dessert on display, you would show him a sketch sample of accessories you could make based on his favorites. surprisingly, juza was very comfortable with expressing his love for sugar because you felt the same way!

every day when juza came to visit the bakery, he’d always have something new to say about your homemade accessories and seemed fascinated by your adorable fashion sense

(he had been particularly obsessed with these dangly earrings you made that looked like little dango sticks. it was like a child had been playing with your ears the entire time)

it was about a month later when you made the final designs of the hair clips juza ordered and you knew they were your best work yet

you had multiple favorite desserts and fruits of his molded in clay or shaped in resin on a various sizes of clips and pins. you decorated them with the sole goal in mind to see how pretty they would look against juza’s dark purple hair

this would be the first time you two met out of the bakery, so when juza came and saw you didn’t look any different (hair accessories and all), he thought you were so sweet

juza’s entire face practically lit up when you presented him the clips. foods like ice creams, lollipops, and popsicles were all accessible for him as he struggled to find the words to show his appreciation for your work

you two sat on a bench in the park as juza gently took the clips, turning them carefully (you looked down and almost laughed at how tiny they looked in his hands)

when you asked for a model picture for your business page, juza’s shaky hands were clearly untrained in the art of hair clips as he put one in an awkward position and tried to look up to see what it looked like

“uh... i’m not very good at this.” juza admitted, embarrassed as he stared at his feet. it didn’t take you long to take over, moving closer to giddily pin juza’s hair back

(it was soft, you were almost jealous of how everything about him was the embodiment of “gentle giant”)

“it’s okay! here, let me.” you insisted and juza gratefully passed you your work, staring at everything but you as his cheeks became even redder. you were so close and leaning over him, trying to put them in cute positions as your fingers ran through his hair

(juza felt like the first time he saw you; like he was on a sugar rush as he noticed how nimble your fingers were on him)

when you were done and leaned back with admiration, juza looked at you with a small smile as he reached up to touch the designs you put in his hair, feeling the handmade pins against his calloused fingers

“cute~” you lifted your phone up, about to take a picture. juza didn’t know why, but he covered the camera with his palm as he lowered it, looking at you with the same focus he had everytime he saw you

“you’re cute.” juza froze. oh gosh, did he actually just confess that?! you were surprised, feeling his hand over yours. yet, you didn’t want to pull away. in fact, you wish your phone was out of the way so you could completely hold his hand

“you’re cute, too.” you responded, using your other hand to brush the loose strands of hair back from his face as you smiled

when juza came back to the dorms with the cutest, most pastel, childish hair clips, no one had time to say a word as he ran to his room and threw himself onto his bed. juza rolled onto his back, placing both his hands on his hair and putting them in front of his face as if he couldn’t believe it

he just held your hand! he was your boyfriend now! you liked him even if he was the complete opposite of you! juza silently shoved his pillow over his face, kicking the air uselessly

as your boyfriend, you and juza had much more in common than you thought. juza loved your cute sense of style, always trying his best to compliment your aesthetic by wearing more of your hair accessories and modeling for your page (apparently, he had the perfect hair color for it)

(he even let you put his hair down for certain posts, his usually slicked–back hair laying flat against his forehead as he didn’t look at you, his head turned as he blushed. “it’s not that bad, right?” he’d ask and you always complimented him no matter what)

although juza kept his rather grunge neutral look, he admired the way you were so bright and liked calling you dessert–related endearments just because you were the embodiment of sweets. he 100% thought you were the most adorable thing in his life and had to be made of pure sugar

in order to support your style, juza liked coordinating his clips with yours. he’d text you the night prior just to gain insight on what type of look you were going for and come to your bakery with something similar (even if your coworkers liked poking fun at his serious, stoic face that only changed around you)

he also came in with a new phonecase and you nearly fainted from how cute he was. he had a case that had those little squishes on them, he admitted he liked feeling them whenever he got a little anxious (it was such a cute habit, you had bought him a whole stock and it was like a little kid on christmas morning)

(you also made earrings out of a pair, he would not stop touching them)

whenever he noticed kids staring, juza never failed to advertise your business like his life depended on it. yes, your customer base actually did grow, somehow thanks to your most unlikely model yet

however, juza wasn’t the only one who had adjusted his style, you did too!

you two actually had had matching letterman jackets, yours in pink & white with a “j” in large letters and his black & grey with your first name initial as well. sometimes, you guys even switched just for the fun of it

you even got to wear his usual “10” purple jacket every now and then, even though he never said anything about liking you in his clothes. he’d just casually leave it around your place, acting like you wouldn’t notice the dark outerlayer in your mass of pastels

as you two were dating, juza wanted to be the best boyfriend possible for you as he wondered what to get you for your anniversary coming up. as juza subconsciously rubbed his clips with a thoughtful look, he suddenly had a lightbulb moment

that’s it! he should make you something in return

when you began seeing juza less and less around the bakery, you were nervous as what he was up to. juza barely hid anything from you since he was such a poor liar, so it was clear when he avoided talking about what he did after school now

in reality, juza was becoming frustrated with how big his hands were. every time he tried to make something, he was too forceful and caused the line to snap. the amount of beads he had lost at this point was laughable as juza tried to not knock over the bracelet–making kit on the table

(it took yuki coming by and taking pity on his crouched over form for him to go somewhere, muttering to himself about how he needed this to be perfect or else he’d die)

(juza always had a strong respect for jewelery makers, but it increased much more once he realized how clumsy and small his attenton span was)

just when you thought juza had forgotten your anniversary coming up, he randomly texted you out of no where asking if you were free. you looked at your shift and agreed, knowing you needed a break and not questioning a thing

when you walked out of the bakery, juza was already there with a small bag, his foot tapping against the sidewalk. before you could even ask how he’d been, he shoved it into your hand with an embarrassed blush (he was so nervous, he swore his heart skipped a beat)

“happy anniversary.” juza mumbled when you opened the small mesh, drawstring bag with a gasp. you slowly pulled out the beaded bracelet with a shocked look, seeing multiple silver dessert–themed pieces hang. there were mainly purple and black beads with four white blocks spelling out “juza”

juza showed you his wrist and he was wearing a beaded bracelet in a similar style, except his was your aesthetic with various pastel shades and your name on his string ending with a cute heart

you teared up and juza winced, rubbing the back of his neck as awkwardly looked away

“that bad, huh?” before juza could die of embarrassment, you shook your head and pulled him into a hug, surprising him when you stood on your tippy–toes to give him a kiss on the cheek

“i love it, this is the sweetest gift ever.”

“only for you.”

when juza slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, you knew you were never gonna take it off

who knew the scary, intimidating boy from the bakery was the sweetest person alive?

[multinova]

Hello ❣️ I’m going through a really bad argument with my friend and they’ve really hurt me badly and I’ve been really down about it... I was wondering how Iida, Bakugou, and Kirishima react to this happening to their s/o? Sorry if it’s too much to ask, thank you 💗💗💗

Never too much for me, especially since I’ve been in your place before. Hope you enjoy the read, habibi! 

Iida Tenya:

So basically, [name]’s “friend” from another class sent an embarrassing picture of her while she was drunk and dancing on top of the dorm table without underwear on, allowing the public to see her vag.

Of course, [name] was put on dorm arrest for having been intoxicated but only for 3 days while her “friend” was suspended for two whole months on account of cyber-bulling. [name] was sad but it wasn’t so much about being exposed but rather that someone she believed was close had betrayed and humiliated her like that.

and best believe when class president found out about what that witch did to his girlfriend, he made sure she was living in endless punishment by not allowing her to participate in anticipated class trips and making her go through boring remedial for the classes she missed.

helps to have a man with connections.

Iida would wait until class was over and rush straight to the dorms after his daily duties were done, wanting to be there for his girl as she endures her punishment. He would open the door to her room to find her crying her eyes out under the covers and he sit beside her as she let it all out.

Iida woudn’t really be able to help her in terms of dealing with the situation but he was the right person to tell her that she didn’t need that witch in order to feel close to somebody when she had him and all of Class 1-A behind her always.

After brightening her day a bit, he’d carry downstairs on his back and make her some nice, warm hot chocolate with five marshmallows just how she liked it. [name] was infinitively grateful for what God had blessed with and the man she was entrusted to. 

at this point, who needed friends when she had a man who cared for her always and made sure she was secured.

secure that bag, sis. 

fuck a friend.

Bakugou Katsuki:

We’re gonna use the same scenario above for this one as well.

So when Bakugou hears about what that shitty fucker did to his woman, he’s just about ready to kill someone’s child and was willing to go jail in order to bring justice for his lady. Like he was red all day with steam leaking from his mouth and ears, almost to the point where he looked like a kettle on the stove. 

get y’all a bakugou for real man. this man go to the ends of motherfucking earth to restore his girlfriend’s dignity.

loyalty at its finest.

Bakugou is placed under watch just to be sure murder won’t happen on campus and is walked to the dorms after school by Aizawa himself, who was ready to wrap him in tape if he dared to make a beeline for the dorm of the person who hurt his girl.

After being released by Aizawa, Bakugou went up to [name]’s room and pulled her from her sleep in order to give her a ten minute compliment session and put her confidence back in place like it normally was before the incident. He’d make her fight him and wouldn’t go easy on her unless she successfully won one of the fights they had, with effort.

see? this is what i’m talking about, like he cares about his woman’s self-confidence being on 20/20 not 5/20. because then it ain’t his woman.

period.

When she won and felt proud of herself for forgetting the witch that wronged her and overcoming it, Bakugou would award her with some kisses and much more as they moved their way back to her dorm.

she earned it. so bakugou delivered and put in work.

deep work if you catch my drift.

Kirishima Eijirou:

Now, Kirishima would be in between beyond pissed and nurturing as he’d want to fuck up the person who did his love dirty but also he’d want to make sure his girl knew her worth and was straight before anything else. Nothing mattered more than her at this point.

Y’all already know this man is out of school and on his way to the dorms as soon as he hears about the situation, ready to comfort his baby and be by her side in her time of weakness and self-evaluation. He would not allow her to go through this alone. 

ABSOLUTELY NOT, HOE!

FUCK YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS.

do y’all know who we talking about here?

the man who sacrificed his spot at UA in order to save his best friend from top-tier villains.

Kirishima would allow his girl to sulk for a while before whispering in her ear that she needed to stand up and face the situation head on like she always did when they were training and he pointed out her flawed techniques. He would make her stand in the mirror and talk about how even though she did some things that made her flawed and made others think twice, she was still perfect in his eyes and would never be anything but.

swoon.

This would make her laugh and smile as she listened to the love of her life speak so kindly about her while also expressing his true thoughts about her, not holding back in the slightest which in her opinion, was the best remedy that he could have ever given. 

yeah, he’s a keeper, ladies.

[kai-eastaughffe]

truth or dare; kai eastaughffe

The night already peaked by the time Kai’s turn was up. He had come down off the high off the lip sync battle---gracefully conceeded to Samuel, on the basis that one man sacrificing his dignity to Avril Lavigne should logically outweigh what essentially became a group dance-off with Lady Marmalade, and the excellence of that was in no way Kai’s doing---and he was slumped on the floor half-wasted already by the time he was poked in the ribs and forced back to attention.

He wasn’t looking forward to whatever people had planned for him. There’d already been a few curve balls, and he was, frankly, really worried about Salem, and Cleo. But, he couldn’t very well refuse after making most of the squad do whatever had popped into his head.

from cleo raja —

truth: what’s one thing you would change about everyone here?

dare: consume everything in the minibar, alcohol aside, in five minutes.

He could not afford the contents of the minibar at this point, even not including the alcohol. Nor did he want to. 

“Simple. We’d all have colour-coded or elemental or animal super powers, à la Power Rangers, or Sailor Moon.” He shrugged.

“We have never been, nor can we ever be, a proper friend group, since we don’t have a transformation sequence.” He downed the rest of his drink. Tonight was the first night he was really letting himself consume as much alcohol as he wanted---it seemed fitting. Then he continued, before anyone else could take over.

“See, Salem would be something dark and edgy like a black motif with ice and a panther, Leigh would be like a sassy lion and the colour orange. Danny would be yellow and something that flies, an eagle? TJ would be green with like, an alligator or a snake, Cleo would be red and maybe a badass scorpion or spider or a biker thing going on. Jenny might also be red---I feel like you’d rock the pink outfit, though, and maybe have some secret like you can control time and are the most powerful of us and no one knows it. Skylar would be purple and wind powers, something pretty like a butterfly but like---deceptive, her wingbeats make hurricanes, I dunno. Sam’d be blue, cause it’s like “leader-y”, but he’d have like... sweet water powers or maybe a wolf thing going on... I dunno. Dakota would be white, and his power would be...” Here he blanked. “To perfectly slice a bagel, or he’d turn into an airplane? I don’t know what your deal is these days, I dunno who you are, dude. Jules would be gold and control the sun, probably. Kelley would be silver---not because she’s second best though, silver ‘cause she’d turn into like a thousand knives, or just a fuckin’ tank.”

“And I’d be the, uhhh... Turquoise Ranger. There’s never a Turquoise anything. But it’s cool, ‘cause I’d also have a sloth patronus or whatever, and you guys would still have to bring me along anyway.” He folded his hands and surveyed the circle seriously.

“The defense rests.” Lawyer-talk, bonus points. He mimed sinking a basketball, for good measure.

from dakota harrison —

truth: who do you dislike most out of all of us?

dare: arm wrestle me.

It only took one glance at Kota’s arms before Kai scoffed. “Yeah, right. That’s happening---real suspense in who’d win, you clearly just want to look good. I’ll take truth... Who I dislike most...” He thought about it for a heartbeat, squinting around at the assembled group. Sure, there were some there he could take or leave, but no one he truly, deeply disliked more than... “Myself, obviously. Not that you’re not all terrible in your own special ways.” 

There was a deafening silence, and he glanced around. “What? Too edgy? It’s called a truth for a reason---” Someone helpfully pointed out that answering yourself was against the rules, and he grew slightly more irritated with all of them. But only for a second. “Fuck you guys, let me be the emo one for once.” He sighed. “Whatever, let’s just... give the people what they want.” He rolled up his right sleeve, and leaned forward to plant his arm in the middle of the circle before flashing Dakota a wide smile and saying, “Bring it, Beardface. And I mean it---you throw this out of pity or something and I will destroy you some other way when you least expect it.”

from jenny jordan —

truth: what was the cause of your weirdest boner?

dare: put five ice cubes down your pants and leave them there.

“Saying no to the ice dick, thanks, darlin’.” It was a little hard to look at her longer than a second without remembering what she’d said about his eyes and... all that. He still hadn’t quite recovered from the stuff people had said on their turns. Skylar thinking he had a good personality was... misguided, but okay... Salem’s was intentionally weird (as he’d requested, so that one was probably on him.) But Jenny’s confession had taken him utterly by surprise and he still wasn’t sure whether she’d been entirely serious, or if she’d had some other reason for praising him. 

He cleared his throat. “Weirdest boner? Mr. Fuller’s math class, apropos of trigonometry. Isosceles triangles just do it for me, I guess. Or, it was the hell that is puberty, and a light breeze could have the same effect, so.” He was answering a lot of truths, it turned out. Whether that would grow uncomfortable in the near future, he wasn’t sure, but at least for once it was a game of embarrassment for everyone, not just him.

from julian campbell —

truth: who in the room has hurt your feelings the most, and how?

dare: do your best impression of three people in the room - really commit to it.

Well, he knew he wasn’t gonna touch that truth with a ten foot pole. He’s not certain who he’d answer, anyway. Most of the incidents kind of blurred together, and the ones that really stung weren’t things he was willing to admit under any kind of torture. Which left him eyeing the other individuals for targets.

Of course, the more sensible thing would be to separate the impressions. But once he’d settled on them, a scene was already forming in his mind---and they had a brief stint taking Drama in high school to thank for that, he figured. “Alright, but I need props...” With an effort, he pushed himself up, then travelled around the room collecting what would be most effective---a pair of oversized sunglasses, a phone, a scarf, a pair of big headphones from his own bag tossed in the corner, and... yeah, that’d work. 

He then proceeded to enact a familiar situation to all of them, Jenny and Salem being catty at each other---sunglasses perched artfully on a dismissive smirk when it was her lines, scarf draped around his neck lazily for pretentiousness rather than representing any particular habit of Salem’s, but it worked, and Cleo in the headphones, snapping peevishly at the others as she looked at her phone at intervals.

By the end of five minutes his brain was stretched to capacity, he’d nearly strangled himself twice in headphone cords and the scarf, and the sunglasses were haphazardly pushed into his hair. “...in conclusion, you’re petty assholes who need to handle your issues better, and I don’t know why I love you,” he finished, breathlessly, before collapsing backwards on the floor.

from salem st. ives —

truth: did you cheat to get through law school?

dare: spend the rest of the game blind folded and wear ear plugs under headphones turned full blast (so that any other dares can get done to him and he’ll have no idea who did it).

He wrinkled his nose at the dare. “I would have to be horribly masochistic to be into that, I hope you know that. And I’m only like... maybe lightly masochistic most days, so you’ll just have to be treated to my full presence for the rest of the game.” It was hard to sweep a mocking bow while seated, but he tried to give one to Salem with minimal spillage of his drink.

“And I...” He paused, and covered it by sipping at the medley of alcohol in his cup---was it his? Had he just picked it up? It tasted like sour patch kids, and he was fairly sure he’d had something in the brownish family. “Is this someone else’s drink?” he asked, keeping the suspicion that maybe he was being pranked---extra bonus prank on Kai night, you know---a private one. “Anyway, it’s delicious, so thanks.” The potential prankster could have their laugh, his drink was delightful. “As I was saying, I did not cheat in law school.” It was, he told himself, the absolute truth. He’d never even been in law school---so how could he cheat? His smirk lost some of its pep when he remembered why that wasn’t exactly the triumph it should be. Someone, somewhere, had actually been in law school and not cheated---but it sure as hell wasn’t him. His mouth tasted bitter, and the stolen drink didn’t help any.

from samuel flores —

truth: do you still resent how the squad treated you in high school?

dare: prank call one of your coworkers.

And there it was. The kicker. ‘Cause he didn’t have coworkers to call---unless you counted Jeremy and Yolanda from the sandwich shop. Who would not take kindly to being disturbed---high priced lawyers might shrug that shit off as a laugh. Minimum wage dishwashers, or his manager, would not. And, believe it or not, he actually liked his coworkers. They thought he was good at his job---and he was, obviously, but they treated him like he was. He wasn’t going to subject them to the... Recapturing Lost Youth Squad. Yolanda had three kids, for fuck’s sake.

He swallowed the remains of his cup and studied the bottom. “I wouldn’t say I resent it,” he said, surprisingly calm and serious for the moment. “That makes it seem like I’m out for vengeance on everyone or hate you all. I don’t, at all. I just want... I dunno.” His voice dropped to a mumble. “Respect, maybe? Or... something...” And now, because of his stupid choice to pretend to be something he wasn’t, some of them actually did respect him, but it wasn’t even him, not really. They respected a complete and total fabrication. He’d almost gotten what he wanted, but it felt hollow and fake.

from skylar murphy —

truth: when was the closest you came to truly getting upset with the squad’s jokes on your behalf?

dare: spread a rumor about someone in the squad that really grinds your gears (i.e. whoever pokes fun at you too much from your perspective).

“Uhhh...” He tried to think, this time, of something specific. After a minute, he nodded. “I do remember one time...” Which in hindsight, might’ve been a precursor to things to come, but he hadn’t been too wise about that sort of thing until he started actively looking for them at his therapist’s bidding. “After we saw the Arcade Fire concert in junior year, and everyone had bought merch. Remember, it was like, a status thing? Wearing the shirts the next day if you’d been to the show? Teenagers are trash.” 

“Anyway, they were actually pretty tame as jokes go, just about the shirt and how I had finally made a decent fashion choice, combined with like... the occasional jab about how now I looked like all the other indie pricks at school.” It really had been totally run-of-the-mill day, all things told---except he’d actually loved that shirt, and the concert had been a good memory. And it’d only lasted a day, because of their idiotic taunts, and his skin being surprisingly thin that week. “Went home and burned the thing in the fireplace. Of course, our fireplace wasn’t equipped for synthetics or whatever was on the logo, I dunno... Anyway the house filled up with smoke and I had to evacuate the munchkins to the lawn,” he said, referring to his siblings. “And got in complete shit for it. Never told any of you, but I think that’s the most pissed I ever got.”

from tj powell —

truth: do you like leigh or salem better?

dare: run out into the hall, knock on somebody’s door, and ask to use their bathroom.

He toyed with his lower lip, looking directly at the dimly-aware Salem as he tried to decide. It should be an easy answer, but his drink had been spiked after all---with indecision and philosophizing, apparently, because it occurred to him that for all his resentment of Leigh becoming joined at the hip with Salem instead, there was something that wasn’t quite... It wasn’t jealousy, really, because he also liked Salem. Genuinely. If he’d been in her shoes, he’d have opted to hang out with Salem, too. So he didn’t really blame her, and that’s what made it complicated. Leigh was his oldest friend, probably. They understood each other, and she’d never cut him out---when she could have. They became a trio instead. He eventually realized he’d been silently musing and staring at Salem for quite some time, and shrugged. “Fuck it.” He got shakily to his feet and went out into the hall, made a show of being choosy about which hotel door he was going to disturb before selecting one at random and knocking.

And then knocking at another when the first didn’t answer. Finally, the door was jerked open. A tall man with a handlebar moustache to rival most cowboy movies loomed over him from the doorway. “What do you want.” He snapped.

Kai blinked. “Uh, I---I lost my room key---can I use your bathroom?”

The man stared at him---then down the hall, where he no doubt saw the heads of several onlookers. “No.” 

The door slammed inches from Kai’s nose and blew his hair back with the force of it. He was happy to retreat with his indignity and the thought of ‘I’m twenty eight fucking years old, what am I doing’ echoing shamefully in his head, until he realized he had an ace up his sleeve---or on his hand, rather. He grinned down the hall at his friends, took the bandage off his right palm from the failed blood oath with Cleo, and knocked again.

The door opened. “Fuck off---”

“Please,” he implored, clutching his bloody hand. “I just need to wash off the blood, and then I’ll go...”

The man’s eyes widened. “Shit! Yeah, come on---I know first aid. How’d you manage that, son?” 

Kai followed, face serious. Ten minutes later he came back to the room, freshly bandaged and more or less triumphant. 

[twogyus]

Time Spent Alone; [Johnny Seo]

Prompt: Being away from Johnny is hard, and you find it difficult to voice that thought. 

Word Count: 4220

Genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

Warning(s): SMUT, generally unstable behavior/ relationship dynamics

Sometimes you think he can't possibly love you. No, not as deeply as you love him. Because sometimes during his long absences, he forgets to call. He doesn't answer your messages, doesn't comment on the selfies you hate to take but take to send him anyways. The goofy ones are the most embarrassing, but one once elicited a response. Now you frequently crack silly faces and snap a picture to share with him.

Lately, you are lucky if he sees it within 4 hours of you sending it.

You bottle your feelings up inside. Every unanswered call or text is a shake to your system. You try your best to not resent him when you forage your brain for reasons he might be ignoring you. You settle for resenting his line of work. Being an idol had great benefits like worldwide popularity and wealth, unfortunately, it often called for sacrificing your private life.

Blaming work calms your restless behavior for a while. You remind yourself it’s what he wants to do and he is doing it well. It would be impossible to fault him for immersing himself to the point everything else fades into background noise. Except you find it’s not impossible. When you see the group has returned via photos on the internet, three days after their arrival, that the cap on your carefully bottled anger pops off.

You send Johnny a picture of you pouting and follow it up with an ‘I wish you were here </3.’

It takes two hours for him to see it. Two hours and fifteen minutes more for him to answer back.

The adult way to handle your situation would be for you to tell him you knew he had returned, for you to ask when you could see him. However, Johnny’s caring personality often reduced you to a childish mess. It was easy for you to give way to your anxieties when you knew he would be around to comfort you, but this time he isn’t and he hasn’t been for a while.

You tug your shirt down some and put your free hand to your cheek, squishing it for maximum cuteness. Your cleavage is enhanced by your arms pressing your breasts together. You take what you decide is your final picture of the day and caption it something sappy about half of your heart missing. You post it to all of your private social media accounts. You doze off half an hour later and consequently miss his call.

You have two missed calls when you wake. Both are from Johnny and both you willfully ignore due to sheer pettiness. Wanting him to match you call for call, however irrational that would be, you prepare yourself dinner instead of worrying.

Someone knocks just after your first bite.

You sit still until there is a second set of knocks, heavier this time. When you hear the door handle rattle your suspicions are confirmed. Sprinting to the door and throwing it open, you are greeted by Johnny. He grins down at you, moving in for a hug. You back out of his reach, motioning for him to come in. He promptly removes his hat and unhooks his mask from under his chin, leaving them on the stand to his right.

You tap your fingers on the door as you lean your weight into it. He is waiting for you to remark on him being here, in your house. He believes the last thing you had known was that he was still out of the country. Except it’s not and you have known for a few hours as of now. You aren’t happy, you are pissed.

“Come on, aren’t you surprised to see me?” He gestures to himself. You clearly aren’t.

“Not really. The internet alerted me of your arrival.”

“Oh, it was one of those days?”

Those days were the ones where you could find nothing better to do. Not working or hanging out with friends or colleagues, the internet drew you in before the options on an online streaming service could. He knew you occasionally dabbled in checking on the group’s whereabouts or dispatch releases.

“I’ve had about ten of those days since you’ve been gone. That’s seven days short of the three days you’ve been back in Korea.”

Johnny visibly deflates at your revelation.

“I can’t comprehend why you didn’t tell me sooner, Johnny. You know if you wanted time to yourself you could have just told me.””

He huffs in annoyance. “Really, you can’t just be happy to see me? I’m happy to see you.”

“Cool, thanks.” You’re not sure where he gets off acting like this isn’t a big deal. It had been over a month since you’ve seen each other. He’s drawn it out longer than necessary, you would have preferred his honesty.

“__, what do you want me to do, apologize? I’m sorry. Can we just enjoy being together now? You told me you missed me earlier, though now I realize you were teasing me for not telling you I was back…This isn’t really anything to be mad over since I’m right here, right now.”

You allow yourself to be pulled into his arms. Aggravation aside it feels nice. Face turned so your cheek is plush against his chest, he drops kisses along the top of your head. “Ew, my hair hasn’t been washed in forever, stop that.” When you try to slip away he holds you tighter.

“That’s gross but you should be delighted to know you smell as fresh as daisies.”

“God, you are the corniest stalk in the field. I hope you don’t rub off on me.” You appreciate it despite your jests. He laughs loudly. “Alright, I’m not any better after that. I’m still mad at you though. I wish you would have told me. I would have prepared something special.”

“You knew and you still didn’t wash your hair.”

You grimace, this time successfully removing yourself from his grasp. “I just assumed after three days back and not a word said, you wouldn’t be coming to see me any time soon.”

“So that picture you sent wasn’t supposed to entice me in the least?” He raises his brows, “You looked great by the way. I missed your face. A lot.”

“No, it totally was.” You walk over to the dish of food left on the table. “ I was aiming to give you blue balls since you wanted to be an ass.” You begin to pack up your leftovers. “Just think, we could have been having sex for three days straight.”

“Why can’t we still do that,” He comes up behind you to turn on the sink. You hand him your bowl to wash. “Let’s take that idea and run with it.” He does a poor job at scrubbing, eager to get his hands on you. Your back is to him while you shuffle things around in the fridge. “You ignoring me?”

You snort. Not answering his one question and he’s asking if you’re ignoring him. You find it ironic and so you keep your mouth shut. You hear the water shut off.

He grabs you around the waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Baby, what’s wrong? You said so yourself that you need alone time occasionally. That can’t be what all this is about.”

“And why can’t it?” It’s easier to explain away. If you say that then you can maintain your dignity.

He’s turning to nuzzle his nose into your neck despite you attempting to escape his reach. He tugs you closer each time until you’re flush against him. He drags you away from the fridge and down the hall to your bedroom. “I don’t want you to be mad at me,” he makes you sit, ”but if you’re gonna be will you at least tell me why?”

You shake your head because he deserves an answer that you aren’t willing to give. Johnny is an easy read and you can see his patience dwindling with every quiet second. You chance it that he’ll understand your neuroticism even the slightest bit. “Did you really not come to see me because you wanted to be alone? Just a yes or no question.”

“Yes.” He’s silenced by a wave of your hand prior to his elaboration.

“Well, I don’t care if you want alone time, Johnny.” He looks utterly confused at your short tone now. “I want alone time sometimes too, and I get it whenever you have practice or need to shoot in a foreign country.” You are picking at the skin around your nails, “Except it's not three days of alone time when you go away, it’s weeks. So I’m a little mad that we’ve gone an entire month without seeing each other and you chose to prolong it.”

Johnny is used to you being open about when you want to be left alone. It’s a rarity, however, when you say that you want him around.  When he’s absent you never ask for him to see you, you offer to come see him. Throughout the course of your relationship, you’ve never once said you missed him. Until today that is. It’s why he came over instead of waiting until the next day as planned. “__, I. I hope you don’t think I did this because I didn’t want to see you. That’s not the case at all.”

You pinch at the bridge of your nose. It would be best for you to forget about the whole thing now that you’re together again.  “You’re off either performing and having the time of your life and my quote-unquote alone time is spent waiting for you to message me back or to pick up when I call.“ Sadly, everything that’s been bothering you is on the tip of your tongue, pushing at the backs of your teeth, begging to be let out. “Both of which are rare occurrences as of late. Honestly, John, it’s getting tiring being placed on the backburner.”

Johnny would never say that you were crazy, but he thinks about it sometimes. “Don’t be ...I’m not out there having fun all of the time. My work might be different than your desk job but it’s still work to me. I don’t always like doing it, not every day is a walk in the park.” He feels terrible about it, but it’s a fleeting thought he has when you’re angry with him..“I wanted time alone because I’ve been cooped up with the group since July.”

“God, I know that, I get that part!” You could scratch your eyes out and it would be less painful than having this conversation. You only continue because you don’t want him to leave and he will the second you clam up. “But it’s not about this singular occurrence, it’s a built-up mass of obsessive, negative concerns about our relationship.”

Johnny is starting to develop a massive headache. He’s reminded of why he wanted to be alone. He’s a fixer by heart, he sees someone needing help and he goes to them no questions asked. It’s nice for him to have time to himself, to not worry about the problems of others or the image he has to maintain in public. “What can I do?” But ultimately he loves you and hates to see you disgruntled more than usual.

As much as you want to hold on to your grudge, to keep the burning under your skin alive, you know if you don’t stop now you won’t forgive him in the near future. “Nothing.” You shake your head, “You can’t go back and answer my calls, reply to my messages. Take away the agitation I had,.. that would be nice but it’s altogether impossible.”

“There has to be something,” That’s code for he isn’t leaving until he feels you’ve let go of your resentment. He places a hand on top of yours. When you don’t pull away after a few seconds he trails it up to your elbow for leverage to tug you into his arms.

Johnny’s warmth does nothing to comfort you now, in fact, it makes you uneasy. Typically you will let yourself wallow until a numbness sets in and your tears dry. You’ll lay back in bed and stare at your ceiling fan, letting yourself go cross-eyed as you watch the fast rotation. If that doesn’t work, you’ll turn over onto your stomach and shove your hand down your pants and scream into your pillows. You hum at the idea.

“What is it?”

You hesitate to answer him, opening and closing your mouth a few times. “You could make me forget for a while if you’re up for it.”

He catches on immediately but wants to hear you say the words. He can practically feel you vibrating with anticipation in his hold.

“I want you to touch me.”

“You do?” He leans back to look at you. “Are you sure, because I was honestly afraid to even attempt hand holding a second ago.”

“It would be good stress relief, wouldn’t it? You know about this stuff better than I do.”

You mean he knows about calming people down, but Johnny’s had his fair share orgasms in a dirty stall mid-practice to get lessen his frustration. That’s where his mind wanders and he remembers it’s more of a band-aid than a long-term solution. Although, he half expected you to throw him out by now, so when you suggest this he nods. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, locking eyes before moving down to your lips, waiting to be turned away.

You meet in the middle, opening your mouth to him a second later. Tilting your head so the angle isn’t putting a strain on your neck, you grasp onto his shoulders. He licks into you and you become pliant under his guidance despite your fierce desperation. Johnny finds it weird how it’s easy for you to let go of control when it comes to sex, but difficult with anything else. He moves his hands to the back of your head to keep you close as he pushes you down onto the mattress.

A silence falls over the room when you part from each other. You shift further up the bed and he follows you, lying between your spread legs, mouth attaching to your neck. You arch your back and reach underneath yourself to undo your bra, throwing it to the side, then fumbling with your shirt until Johnny discards of it for you.

You instinctively cover your face when Johnny stops to stare at your bare chest. He runs his hands up and down your sides a few times before squeezing each of your mounds of flesh. You squirm against his cold touch and gasp when he tugs on your nipples. He keeps them pinched tight, listening to how your breaths turn shallow. His grip becomes tighter and tiny electric shocks run through you, causing you to cry out.

You are panting and your eyes have glossed over. Despite your pained noise, you haven’t asked for him to stop.  He sets out to replace his fingers with his teeth. You shudder under the wet heat, pushing yourself closer, yanking on his hair when his jaw goes slack. He eventually let’s go, choosing to trail his mouth down your stomach.

You busy yourself with trying to toe your pants down your legs, eager for whatever Johnny has planned. He pushes them past your knees and off one leg for to you to fling them to the ground. He further parts your thighs for his body to better fit when he shuffles lower. Face level with your pussy, he looks up to see you still hiding. “Is this okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with this?” You want to kick him but you wouldn’t actually dare. You wish he would just take what he wanted and get on with it. That’s what you did for yourself. You never drag it out, managing to work yourself to an orgasm in less than ten minutes when infuriated. “Just make me cum, please.”

He draws his brows together. You were too shy to look at him but okay with telling him to make you fall apart?  He separates your folds and proceeds to groan at the sight. Though surprised at how visibly wet you are, he finally comes to the conclusion of why you don’t want him to touch you after you’ve argued. You cannot fathom wanting him to touch you when all you need is for him to leave you alone.

You tremble as he leaves gentle kisses along your inner thighs. His fingers prodding at your entrance nearly driving you insane. He strokes a finger through your wetness a couple more times before pressing it into you. Your walls suction him in deeper and you ask for another. Johnny tentatively smiles at you, relieved to see your eyes uncovered and nervous to displease you at the same time. When he brings his mouth to your bundle of nerves your eyes roll back and you clutch at the pillow under your head.

The pleasure you are feeling quickly replaces any overpoweringly negative emotions. You realize you shouldn’t be changing your mind because of sexual gratification, but you can’t help it when he’s got his lips suctioned around your clit. As the flat of his tongue rubs against it you gasp, drawing the sound out as his fingers pick up their pace.

Johnny uses his free hand to hold you flat when he starts working in a third finger. He can hear you cursing his name at the stretch, though your soft pets to his hair are your way of rushing him. He glances up just to see you’ve hidden your face from his view again. “Are you good?”

The tone in which you call his name has his mind spinning. Half of him wants to stop all of this in order to fuck you senseless. The other half knows it’s better to give you what you want before asking for something in return. At the slide of his thumb against your clit, your hips buck despite his hold on you. He can sense your impatience and replaces his thumb with his tongue.

Your walls clench down on his digits and you will yourself to let go, ultimately finding it impossible. You bite at your lip and adjust the angle of your hips to change the trajectory of his pistoning fingers. You huff not knowing what more to ask for.

Johnny’s lips are sealed over your bundle of nerves and his tongue is pressing quick circles around it. You can usually come from that stimulation alone, but something is stopping you from falling. Even his speedy thrusts deep into your pussy aren’t helping you over the edge.

It’s after he takes one of your hands for you to squeeze instead of yanking on his hair that you realize what’s wrong. You have to call his name a few times before he dislodges himself, . His mouth is glistening as he questions you. “I want you to choke me.” At once he appears skeptical of your request.

“Baby I don’t think…”

“But I want you to. I need you to. Please?” Face typically shoved into your pillow as you ground your hips down onto the heel of your palm, the lack of oxygen got you off more than any well-placed friction. That desperate gasp of air and the sensation that comes with it is cathartic. If he wasn’t planning to wrap his hand around your neck in the next minute you were tempted to ask if you could at least choke on his dick.

He nods slowly, reaching forward cautiously. Just the weight of his hand has you arching into him. You tell him to squeeze harder while you begin to move against the other hand in between your legs. He pumps his fingers roughly, seeing no point in being soft when he can feel you pulsing around him, instantaneously letting out strangled moans.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” The idea of you not being able to answer him has his cock aching. And the mere sight of you has his breath faltering. “You don’t want an apology, just wanted me to make you feel good, is that it?” He hated to admit that having you pinned down after facing your verbal lashing makes all of it feel righted.

You make an affirmative sound and grab onto his wrist, trying to anchor him to you. As he crooks his fingers upwards and switches his main focus back to your clit, your eyes are closing in ecstasy. The build-up of pressure in your core and knowing that Johnny has control over your breathing has you wound tightly in minutes.

A few more rough swipes of Johnny’s thumb has you throwing yourself back into the mattress, ripping his hand from your neck to fully breathe in. He continues to shower attention on your clit, enjoying the feeling of your walls clamping down on the fingers inside of your pussy.

He stares down at you, amazed that restricting your breathing made you cum undone in such a short amount of time. He withdraws his fingers and wipes them on your comforter while you turn on your side to curl in on yourself.

When he sees you clutch your arms to your chest, Johnny snaps out of his trance. Draping himself around you, he moves away the pieces of hair stuck to your forehead. He’s sure you can’t ignore his erection poking against your ass but decides to cast his libido aside for the time being.

You can feel the words he speaks against your shoulder. “What’s wrong, __? Didn’t that make you feel better?”

“Yes,” you mumble, shying away from his view once more. “I just.. That’s not weird is it?”

“Lots of people are into breathplay, babe, you aren’t alone.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” You give a long sigh before twisting around to face him. “I just got done reading you the riot act and then I ask for you to choke me and make me cum. You can cause me so much anguish,  yet I always want you around. I don’t want you to think I can’t live without you, Johnny, but that’s what it feels like sometimes.”

“Is that why you were mad I didn’t respond to you every time? You didn’t want to be the only codependent one?.” He takes your silence for as a yes. “__, you aren’t crazy because you wanted me to pin you down, that’s something to discuss another day. But as for you assuming, I don’t think about you while I’m away, that’s insulting. I’m constantly wondering what you’re up to, or seeing things stupid matching couple crap I want to buy for us, or something you’d find funny.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t pick up every once in a while and tell me that though.” Your previous actions have taken away your will to fight. At this point, you’re willing to take whatever he has to say into consideration.

“You’re so independent. You don’t bother me when I’m busy with practice or promoting. I assumed when you were contacting me while I’m away you were just…” he shakes his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Obviously, you care more than you let on, and I’m happy to know that.”

“Looks like both of us assuming things just made an ass out of you and me.”

Johnny cracks a smile. “Who was the corniest stalk in the field again?”

You push him away to just follow as he rolls onto his back. You lean over him. “I’ll admit I got a little carried away,” you clear your throat. “Maybe a little more than a little. Anyway, I’m sorry, I know I could stand to be more clear about stuff. I’ll work on it, just as long as it’s clear that I love you.”

The expression he makes has you blushing, wanting nothing more than to clam up. He coos and pulls you down to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I love you too, and If you’re up to hearing me whine about how much I miss you, then I can make an effort as well.”  

You feel...content. Normally, after an argument, you avoid each other until it became unbearable. You rarely apologized, that was more Johnny’s thing. He long ago came to understand that you even admitting a wrongdoing was difficult. This is new to you, and you feel as if your apology is somewhat insubstantial. “Is there anything else I can do to make it up?”

Johnny fakes a yawn, folding his arms under his head. “Don’t worry, you’ve done enough. This has all been super draining, I think I might need a nap.”

You raise your brows. “I was imagining the many ways I could repay you,” you trail a hand across his stomach, “ but I could most certainly use a nap.” Before you can turn around he tugs you closer so you’re chest to chest. He hauls one of your thighs over his lap. You sit up to straddle his waist.

“Forget what I said, please, enlighten me with your ideas.”

[skamelias]

Hei Briskeby - Makeup tutorial with dem boyz

8.2 Torsdag 23.11.17

Description: Absolutely no thinking was involved in the making of this video

“What’s up people? Long time no see.” Elias smiled into the camera, as he sat on the edge of the couch in the living room.

“We’ve missed you guys, but now we’re back and we have two very special guests,” Elias glanced in front of him where Sana and Laila were sitting a bit apprehensively. Laila gave a small wave, while Sana half-heartedly rolled her eyes. “This is Laila and making a second appearance on this channel is my little sister Sana.” Elias pointed to each of them respectively.

“Today we have a surprise for you. Some of you–no all of you might think we’re crazy, but apparently we’re going to be doing a makeup tutorial. As you can see we ran out of video ideas and needed to get in that sweet content for views,” Adam quipped.

“To be clear, this wasn’t our idea, but because Elias can’t say no to a certain someone, all of us are getting our makeup done.” Mikael mentioned, poking Elias in the ribs.

“Well not all of us….” Mutta interjected. “Even got out of doing this video by giving the lamest excuse that he had laundry to do,” Mutta shook his head, pursing his lips in mock disappointment.

“Now Laila, Sana, what do you have in store for us today?” Elias asked, a laid back demeanor to him.

“Basically each one of you guys gets to choose the makeup for the rest of you, and you’ll take turns choosing.” Laila said.

“As you can see we brought out our finest collection of foundations, lipsticks, eyeshadow, and concealers. And by finest, I mean cheapest because we’re not about to waste our good makeup on you guys,” Sana added.

Laila nodded in affirmation while the rest of the guys looked like they had been stung.

Yousef raised a hand to his chest dramatically, “Wow….you guys don’t think we’re worth using your good makeup on? I’m shocked, hurt, and offended.”

Sana shook her head, laughing slightly at Yousef’s grin, full dimples showing.

“Ok so who wants to go first?” Elias asked, glancing over at the guys.

“I volunteer Elias to go first,” Mikael said, pointing at Elias, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Elias gave him a death glare, before gazing at Laila nervously. She laughed at his uneasy expression before she said, “Don’t worry Elias, I’ll go easy on you since this is your first time.”

Adam wolf whistled. Elias blushed slightly as Mutta said, “Which color should we do for his eyeshadow?”

The guys all turned to look at Mutta clearly puzzled at how he knew what eyeshadow was.

“What? Chris taught me a few things…” Mutta trailed off, shrugging his shoulders but smiling nonetheless.

“Oh I know what this is,” Adam said enthusiastically, as he picked up a beauty blender. “This is an egg that you can use to massage the surface of your skin; I’ve seen girls use this. You just roll it around on your face, right? He glanced at Laila and Sana who were close to bursting out in full blown laughter.

“No Adam, that’s to blend in your makeup, usually your foundation.” Sana shook her head in exasperation.

Adam was clearly dumbstruck by this new piece of information.

“I think we should do a blue for Elias’ eyeshadow,” Mutta said abruptly, smiling mischievously.

Laila looked at him with mild horror, raising her eyebrows. She looked like she wanted so badly to say something, but instead, she held her tongue and picked up the eyeshadow palette and brush. She held it out to Elias’ eye and said, “This might tickle a little bit but can you close your eyes for me?” Elias shut his eyes and Laila leaned down, gently applying a few strokes of the eyeshadow to each of his eyelids.

Mikael snorted when he saw Elias’ blue covered eyes, Laila and Sana couldn’t quite contain their laughter either.

“Does it look bad?” Elias said, looking around for a mirror, but finding none.

Laila wiped a tear from her eye, shaking her head. “No, no, no, it looks good,” she lied.

“I think he needs a really bright pink lipstick,” Yousef added, covering his mouth, trying to hide his smile and failing.

Elias rolled his eyes.

Sana handed over a bright tube of pink lipstick to Laila who lightly applied it to Elias’ lips.

“Looking good Elias,” Adam remarked jokingly.

“He could use some eyeliner,” Sana suggested, putting her hands on her hips in amusement.

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Laila picked up the pencil and adjusted her wrist so it was level with Elias’ eye. “Okay so try not to move around too much.” Elias grimaced slightly but nodded before she slowly made a neat line around the edge of his eyes.

Laila stepped back to admire her handiwork, nodding in affirmation to herself. “I think I did the best I could given the circumstances.”

“Ok who’s next?” Elias said, attempting to change the subject.

They all looked around, hoping it wasn’t one of them, before Adam stepped up and volunteered himself to go next.

“I’ll go. I don’t mind sacrificing my dignity for the views,” he boasted, wiggling his brows and winking into the camera.

“What dignity?” Sana said nonchalantly.

“Ouch!! Sana is the true roast master over here,” Mikael said grinning at her. “Adam’s favorite color is red, so I would just go crazy with it and paint his whole face red.”

“Thanks bro, you get me.” Adam said fistbumping with Mikael. He looked into the camera then and said, “To any ladies watching this, if your man won’t let you practice your makeup skills on them, dump them.”

This time it was Sana’s turn to snort. She knit her brows together in disbelief before walking over to Adam and picking up and bright red lipstick.

“Will this stuff come off when I eat or drink something?” Adam asked vaguely, as she applied it to his lips with great difficulty.

“Usually it does, but this one that I’m using is extra strength and waterproof so it’s really hard to get off,” Sana said with a deadpan expression.

Adam suddenly looked panicked, “What?”

Sana smirked into the camera before turning back to Adam’s face and picked up the red eyeshadow palette.

“Adam, I think that color is really working for you,” Yousef added while Mutta nodded in the background.

“I know you’re joking, but I’m going to pretend like you meant it in honor of our brolationship,” Adam said.

Elias dropped his face into his hand in secondhand embarrassment.

“Okay people, that’s all the time we have. We want to give a special thanks to Laila and Sana for taking time out of their busy schedules to put makeup on us.” Elias addressed the camera once more.

“I think we learned a lot in this video,” Mutta said, bouncing up and down in his seat enthusiastically.

Adam nodded, “Yeah, like don’t let wait until the last minute to come up with a video idea for your YouTube channel.”

Mikael knocked him in the ribs playfully as Mutta smacked the back of Adam’s head lightly. Elias rolled his eyes before turning back to the camera.

“We’ll see you guys next time,” Elias said, as the boys collectively dabbed behind him.

[imagine--drv3]

The boys with an S/O that partakes in some kind of activity which requires you to be on stage (dancing, singing, etc.) but gets bad stage fright? Thanks!

Such a unique request! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

Korekiyo Shinguuji

He doesn’t really understand what you’re going through at all

You’re amazingly talented… what is there to be nervous about?

In a way, though, that actually helps you

His faith in you is blindingly strong

Truly believes you’ll be completely fine and you have nothing to worry about

He promises to watch you from the first row

If you get nervous, just look at him!

Even if you mess up, he’ll be there enjoying your performance wholeheartedly

You’re absolutely stunning as you perform, after all!

The clear pride in his eyes helps spur you on!

When the performance is over he gives you a hug

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Promises to attend all your future performances as well!

Rantarou Amami

He can tell you’re nervous as you wait for your turn backstage

He wants to help but he’s not sure how

So he turns to the internet for help!

“Hey… Did you know that while watching a performance, the audience is almost always rooting for the performer?”

He goes through his phone and keeps reading off trivia and helpful hints for you, right up until it’s your turn to take the stage

He even looks up videos of other drummers performing your same song, to show you how often mistakes happen, and how little the audience cares!

Also so he can show you how much more prepared you are compared to them

Right before you go on, he gives you a hug and whispers that he’ll be watching you from the wings, so he’s right there when you need him!

You can see him smiling and clapping for you every time you turn your head

You feel more at ease now!

Even though your performance wasn’t perfect, you actually managed to get out there and have fun

You got almost everyone in the audience to feel the beat somewhere in their bodies!

Amami’s super happy about how free and happy you seemed!

When you’re finished he gives you a big bear hug

“I’m so proud of you! You did amazing.”

Lowkey brags about your performance to pretty much everyone afterwards

Kokichi Ouma

“Ehhh? Why are you so nervous? Who cares about anyone in the audience.”

You should just have fun! You like doing this stuff, right?

You try to explain to him that you can’t really help how you feel at times like these, regardless of how much you enjoy dancing

He takes a moment to think that over

“Can I perform with you, then? That way you can just focus on me, and we’ll have so much fun!!”

Ouma, no

He’s not a member of your dance troupe

Pouts when you say he can’t. He thought it was a brilliant idea!

Still, he assures you he’ll take the pressure right off you during the performance

Oh no

What are you planning

You keep asking him to tell you what he’s going to do but he refuses to say anything

The day of the performance, he does give you a big smooch and promises you’ll enjoy what he has planned

Since it’s you, he’s not going to mess around!

Hearing that does assuage your nerves somewhat

You actually start getting kind of excited to see what’s going to happen!

You don’t have to wait long

The second the curtains open you spot the gigantic sign Ouma’s holding in the front row

He wrote a bunch of short, supportive messages!

...Is that a pun?

You almost start laughing onstage, but manage to hold back. Instead, with Ouma cheering you on, you have the most enjoyable dance performance ever!

When it’s over, Ouma stands on his chair to cheer for you!

You’ll never forget how much fun you had with him cheering you on!

Shuuichi Saihara

Saihara’s a bit taken aback when you tell him how you’re feeling

He’s heard you sing before, and you’re amazing! He never expected you’d be nervous about doing it on stage

Still, he understands, and offers you his full support

In the weeks leading up to your performance, he probably gathers your friends and has you try singing in front of them as practice

He’s super patient with you. If you ever get too nervous to continue he has you stop and assures you of how wonderfully you were doing!!

He’ll even sing along with you if it helps you feel more comfortable! Although he’s embarrassed to do it himself, he wants you to feel at ease!

On the day of your performance, he tells you that no matter how you do, he’ll still enjoy watching you perform so much!

Gives you a hug

Crosses his fingers in the hopes that things will go well! For your sake

Once it’s over, he has the biggest grin on his face

Is the first person to give you a standing ovation!!

Immediately after you leave the stage, though, he leaves the theatre so he can meet you

Is too shy to do what he wants to do (immediately take you into his arms and kiss you)

But he kisses you on the cheek and holds your hand!

He’s your biggest supporter and he’s so happy he got to see you perform!

Kaito Momota

Yeah, he heard you about the anxiety thing, but hold up. You can do ballet????

Gets the conversation completely sidetracked immediately because he wants to know more about what you do!!

Asks you a ton of questions. Do you go up on the very tips of your toes?? Doesn’t that hurt?? Do you… you know… get lifted by other guys, and stuff??

Momota. Chill.

Eventually you get back to your issue with stagefright

He tells you that your issue is how you’re focusing on the wrong thing

You really like ballet, right? You like expressing things to the audience

So, you shouldn’t think about how well you do… Just think about expressing yourself to the people watching.

“Listen, even if you make a mistake or two, people aren’t really gonna care. What really matters is whether they experience something through what you do, right?”

How is he so wise about this. He’s an astronaut

Still, he’s actually spot-on

You try taking his advice, and…

Your performance becomes truly special.

Momota denies that he cried or anything like that, but… When he hugs you afterwards, his eyes are definitely red

He tells you that you couldn’t have done better, and that he’s so happy for you

He means every word.

Kiibo

He doesn’t understand, but he’s sympathetic

Truly wants you to do well, and hopes he can help somehow

He doesn’t really know what he’d be able to do, though, so he just asks you!

Is there anything that helps you stay calm while on stage? Anything he can do to help?

You hesitantly answer that you’d like to practice your routine in front of him?

He agrees immediately of course!

The first time he watches your routine, he’s enthralled! Sure, you made a couple mistakes, but… what you were doing was so incredible!

“Hey… can you show me how to do that??”

It ends up turning into a teaching session

Although Kiibo just cannot get the hang of tossing a flag like that

How do you catch it?? If only his reflexes were enhanced beyond the capabilities of an elderly man!

He’s so impressed by your abilities that it ends up as a huge boost to your confidence

In a way, it was like he sacrificed his dignity to help your anxiety since he hits himself in the head with your flag at least a dozen times

You thank him for helping you out like this!!

He’s happy that he managed to get you to feel better!

During your performance, he cheers for you louder than anyone else!!

Afterwards, he asks you on a “celebratory date”, since you did so well!

Gonta Gokuhara

Gonta feels so bad when you tell him how nervous you are!

He wants to help as much as he can!!

But what can he do in this situation?

He ends up asking all of his friends for advice

The advice he heard most was that if you had fun and enjoyed yourself, you wouldn’t feel as nervous anymore

So he decides to join your performance!

Gonta, you can’t just decide that on your own

He assures you that what he has in mind will work!

So, you allow him to play the tambourine along with your guitar

Of course, you have a lot of time to practice before you have to perform

Gonta manages to keep a pretty steady beat, and the tambourine adds more to your song!

More importantly, however… you find yourself so much more relaxed when he’s playing along with you

Watching his gentle smile, seeing him swaying slightly from side to side as you play… It’s truly a soothing picture

During your performance, you truly feel at ease as he’s by your side

He also enjoys himself a lot! It’s so nice that he gets to watch you play right beside him

After the performance is over, he tells you how much fun that was for him, and asks if you were able to feel less nervous

He’s super happy when you tell him how much he helped!!!!

From now on, you can remember this day whenever you perform, and feel more at ease!

Ryouma Hoshi

He listens to you explain your stagefright without commenting

When you’ve finished, he thinks for a moment, and gets an idea

“Did I ever tell you my ‘winning trick’?”

He explains how, before going into a match, he used to always be sure to step off on a certain foot. That way, he’d have luck, and he won all of his matches!

...Does that kind of thing really work?

He promises that he knows what he’s talking about.

So you decide to give it a try!

Of course, you’re still super nervous when you’re going out onstage, but…

For some reason, you feel like things are going to go well?

And they do!

Your tone at the beginning could’ve been better, but…

Otherwise, your recital goes really well!

You’re so relieved you almost just lie down on stage

Hoshi’s the first to greet you when you come out of the auditorium

And… he brought you a small bunch of flowers!

“It’s not a big deal, you just… did really well.”

He’s so precious.

[snake-house]

Takao Kazunari X Male!Reader X ???

title: cant you see.

Takao Kazunari X Male!Reader X ??? warnings: sexual themes??? not really, language, mentions of mpeg he/him pronouns used for reader whenever you see '--' it means some time has passed or pov switch omegaverse au **Onesided, reader loves Takao, but... ___

"Honestly, you guys are perfect together." You blinked at Takao, wondering why on earth would he say something like that. "Excuse me?" You asked, eyebrows narrowed at the taller male beside you. It was just like you to get your hopes up that you two would have a normal conversation as you walked home. "You and Shin-chan, you guys are so cute together." He beamed with a closed eye smile. Oh, that's what he was going on and on about, maybe you shouldn't have zoned out for a moment. "We're not even dating, and don't even have interest in each other," You commented indifferently, "Why are you saying that?" "Because it's true! You guys have so much in common, it would be a shame if he didn't court you by the end of the year, because if he doesn't I'll be sure to ask you." He talked so casually on the topic, how was it so easy for him. You refused to let yourself blush at his words, "Then I guess I better get ready for you to meet my parents, because that is never going to happen. Midorima is asexual and probably straight or at least bi, while I am really gay and really really like sex." You stated simply, side-eyeing Takao. You heard him laugh and slap a hand on your shoulder, making you stumble a bit with the force behind it, "He may be asexual, but that doesn't mean he despises sex, he's one of those sex-positive aces. It's something that's not always on his mind, or like want it all the time." You nodded at his explanation, "And you can trust my word, I asked him about it a while back since I didn't understand." "Oh," You cleared your throat, "But still, not going to happen, I am fine with whoever I end up with. My parents have been talking about an arranged marriage for like the past few months, 'cause I'm about to graduate, so you both may be too late." You grin seeing Takao's shoulders slump forward. "I wish you were in our year [Name]-chan," The boy whined, "Then you wouldn't have to worry about that and Midorima would have time to grow a pair and court you." "Why did you even bring up this topic?" You asked suddenly, stopping as you realized that you were in front of your house. He smiled at you, "Because I want my two best friends to be happy, and I am the best matchmaker, and I know you two would be wonderful together." With a sigh you turned to walk towards the front door, "Right, I'll call you the best matchmaker when one of your couples get married, anyways, goodnight. Are you still coming over this weekend? My mom wanted me to ask again just to be sure." "You'll see! And yes, I'll be over after practice Saturday, good night [Name]-chan!" He chimed before stalking off towards his own home a block away. You smiled and pulled out your house key and quickly headed to your room once inside. You threw your bag on your bed and made haste as you changed out of your school uniform. There was enough time before dinner you could do your homework and play on your phone. But even after having that conversation with Takao on your way home, nothing would have prepared you for the conversation you had with your parents during lunch. You were just relieved you were an only child and didn't have a sibling to scar. "[Name], your father and I have been talking lately," Your mother started, sharing a look with your father before continuing and looking at you, "But if we were to arrange a marriage for you, would you prefer it to be with a male of female?" You spit out your tea. "Wh-What?" "Would you like a husband or a wife, is what I'm asking. We have a few people in mind for either gender." She explained, but your head was still reeling. How could they know? You were out to your friends, but not your parents. "Uh, why do you ask?" You mumbled, looking away. She smiled and placed a hand over yours from across the table, "Because your sexuality will have a lot to do with if you'll be the one to have kids or not, since you're an omega. I thought they taught you these kinds of things in school?" She replied, "We want you to have some choice in the marriage." "They did... I guess I didn't look too much into it." You looked in between your parents for a moment, still unsure, "Um, would you be mad if I said a husband?" It barely came out as a whisper. There was a soft laugh from your mom, and then your dad joined in, "Why would we be mad?" "I don't know... I guess I was just scared." You said with a shrug of your shoulders. They could know you're gay, but they couldn't know how you spent your heats since you presented a year ago. "It's ok, really, we love you no matter what gender you're interested in." Your mother cooed, "We'll talk about this some more when we narrow down some of our options." And that was the end of that conversations. -- - "They really asked you that?" - Takao asked from the other side of the phone. You flopped down on your bed and groaned, "I know right? It was so weird and so embarrassing." You mumbled, "They basically asked me if I like dick or vagina and it was awkward." - "Well that's what you get for not coming out to them sooner, you should have told them when you told me and Shin-chan." - You sighed, you knew he was right. It would have saved you some dignity. "What am I gonna do if they pick out a douchebag for me to marry?" - "You refuse the marriage, and if they disown you, me or Shin-chan will make you our wife!" - He said it like it was so obvious. You snorted at the response, "Yeah right, like I could do that. My parents are leaving me all their stocks and investments, I can't let them disown me like that." - "I didn't peg you to be a gold digger [Name]-chan." - Takao teased, making you sputtered. "That's not what I meant! I mean by that, they sacrificed so much to give me a good life, even after they die, so I can't leave them like that." Your voice was heavy with voice. - "Hey-hey, [Name], it's ok, I didn't mean to hurt you," - His voice was so soft, and so kind, you smiled unconsciously, - "I understand what you mean, how you feel about leaving your parents is how I feel about my little sis. She's the one person I can't bear to let down or leave. I'm glad you have a bond like that with your parents, it's good, it's healthy. Just remember that." - Again, you were smiling, "Thank you Kazu, I mean it. I don't know why you keep telling me I fit well with Midorima, it's you I fit well with." Oh no. Did you just say that? A flush overtook your face, you needed to back out now before he read too much into your almost confession, "A-Anyways, gotta go, school in the morning. See you tomorrow!" And you hung up. You put your face in your pillow and screamed. He was never supposed to know, and if he really thought about your words, he would. He would know you deepest secret. The secret being that you've been in love with your junior by one year since the day you met him. You fell head over heels the instant you met him during lunch the second week of school last year. You ran into him and spilled your water all over yourself, he offered to help you clean up, apologizing for your mistake, and when you met his eyes as you tried to apologize, you were done for. He was the one, and would always be the one. You may have been a newly presented omega, and Takao being un-presented at the time didn't bother you at all. He could have turned out to be a beta and you would still love him. Every time you let an alpha spend your heat with you, it was him you were thinking of. Takao taking care of you. Takao telling you that he'd make it better. Takao telling you all those dirty things he wanted to do for you. Kazunari wanting you, helping you, filling you up to the brim with his cum. It was always him. But all he saw was how 'compatible' you and his best friend were. Couldn't he see it was him you wanted? Sure he joked about marrying you if Midorima didn't get his hands on you, but he never seemed like he meant it. He meant it just as a peg to get Midorima to make a move on you. You wanted Takao to make a fucking move already. Now you were going die because of this minor slip up and the fact you were probably going to marry some stranger when the one you really wanted was right in front of you in his stupid alpha height and laid back demeanor. Why couldn't you have him... -- Thankfully you were successful in ignoring Takao for the majority of the day, but it was only Wednesday, and you would have two more days to avoid him until Saturday. But on your walk home from school, you were pulled backwards from a tug at your backpack into two strong arms. When you looked up to see who it was, you blushed and shrunk down. There were two light blue eyes staring down at you, narrowed in frustration, something you've only seen on the court. "H-Hey Takao..." You mumbled. He let go of you and let you take a step away and fix your shirt. "Hey [Name]-chan, why have you been ignoring me?" Straight to the point again. You shrugged, looking down at your feet. He was using his alpha authority against you, you could feel it. He wanted you to submit to his will and tell him everything, but you weren't that easy of an omega like most people thought. "Have I? I've just been kind of put off because of this arranged marriage thing," You trailed off slightly, "My parents are treating me like I'm dainty and made of glass or something and it's kind of annoying." "You're lying." Takao stated sternly, "Your voice always wavers at the end like that when you lie." Damn, he knew you too well. "So what if I am?" You shot back suddenly, meeting him in a sharp glare, "It's not like you're my boyfriend or anything to make assumptions like you have the right to know what's going on. Maybe I just want to deal with this by myself." "Because I know you [Name]," He sighed, he sounded like he was trying to control himself from blowing up on you as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm your best friend, I should know, so if something is really bothering you, I can share your baggage." His words were undeniably sweet, but you couldn't have that quickly. "Then if you know me so well as you state, you should know what's up." You spat, "I promised my mom I'd help her with dinner tonight." You stated before continuing your walk towards your house. Takao caught up with you after he understood what you said, "[Name]," He paused and let an unknown emotion wash over his face for a moment, "Is... are you acting like this because I keep pushing Shintarou on you?" His voice was quiet. Technically he was right, but didn't hit the nail on the head, "Partially, yes. It's annoying and I'm not the slightest bit interested in him, and I texted him this morning, and he feels the same." You explained, your words were no longer as rough. "I'll stop then," He said immediately, "I'm sorry [Name], I thought I was being a good friend by trying to get you a boyfriend that would like you." Pain flashed in his eyes, "Because I hate seeing you sneak off with those shady guys during your heats." His voice was oh so soft, it made you weak. He was too sweet for his own good. You were surprised a cute girl hasn't snatched him up. You were glad someone hasn't, but it was hard to believe. You couldn't stop the blush forming on your cheeks, "Thank you for worrying, but those 'shady guys' are better than doing it alone. Alpha ruts are nothing compared to the three to seven days of absolute pain I feel every few months. You get yours once a year." You paused and sighed, "Anyways, I'll be engaged soon and I can rely on the fiancé my parents chose." Your words were laced with sorrow and pain, it made Takao flinch. "Then maybe... maybe you should try it with Shin-chan, so you can be engaged to someone you know, and not a stranger." Takao reasoned, and you blew up. "SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT HIM KAZUNARI! Why can't you see me? Why can't you hear me? Haven't you been listening? Haven't you heard all the times I've almost slipped up? It's YOU goddamnit! Why are you so dense, why..." You didn't know when you started crying, but there was no stopping the hot salty tears now, "It's you I wish I could have, I like you, I love you, and all you want to do is push me away to someone else. A stranger is better than having you push me away for someone else to deal with. Can't you see me?" Takao didn't know what to make of your broken form. You were crying and trembling, he's known you for a little over a year, and how come he didn't know how to comfort you like this? "[Name]- I'm sorry, I don't know-" "Don't be, I'm sorry. Let me cool off and get over myself and we can go back to normal. Just-just let me be for a while." You cut him off, the words barely leaving your lips before you ran in the direction of your house. That was it. You lost Takao forever. -- "Shin-chan, I don't understand what happened, I know I messed up, but I don't know how to fix it." Takao whined from the bench the next day during practice. The team was taking a water break when Takao brought up the topic. He called Midorima after he got home last night and explained everything that happened, but nothing was really resolved. The green-haired male sighed, taking off his glasses to clean them, "I'm surprised [Name] hasn't blown up earlier on you if you still can't understand it." There was a hint of a smile on his face at this. "I get that, I'm dense, but how can I fix it? I can't lose [Name]-chan like this, for something stupid I did." Midorima couldn't help but feel bad at how hurt and bent out of shape Takao looked, "I don't know how I didn't know he liked me- he said he was in love with me." It was a whisper. Midorima sat down beside him, "Really? Are you really going to say that?" "What do you mean?" "It's been so obvious," He sighed, "Everything [Name] does is because he's trying to get your attention in a romantic way, not a friendly way." There was a pause of silence between them before Takao spoke up, "So, like the fact he calls you by your last name when you call him by his first name?" Midorima nodded, "Oh, I just thought that was because he felt more comfortable around me." "Then when something happens in his life, he always calls you first, and the way he looks at you when you look away, and how he only watches you during out games." Midorima connected more dots for him, seeing that Takao wasn't going to understand unless it hit him right in the face. The coach called practice back together, making the two stand up. "You'll figure it out." Midorima said and jogged over to the coach to see what play there were going to practice next. -- The next few days of school, you didn't even try to avoid Takao, just whenever you saw him, or whenever he noticed you, neither of you made the effort to go to the other. Takao didn't come over to your house that weekend, and those days turned into weeks of ignoring each other. It hurt every time you saw him. He was still smiling with his other friends, he still seemed happy, and completely indifferent to you when he met your eye. At least Midorima was keeping up with texting you back, and having short conversations before going to class. That was when you knew your feelings weren't mutual. Because how can he look so unfazed by what happened, while you looked like you dug your way up from hell. Even people you've rarely spoke to were asking if you were ok. You knew what was happening, and you were glad that no one else was catching on. Love was a stupid emotion. Nothing good could come from love you decided. Lust was one thing, like was one thing, but love was it's own thing that nothing could compare to. Romantic love is horrid. -- Life wasn't much different without Takao in it. That was a lie actually. It was different. But, slowly but surely you survived. You were so in love with him, that it was hard, imagining and living your life without him next to you. You may have had a crush on him and he may have not felt the same way, but he was your best friend. Surprisingly, Midorima helped you out along the way. He told you that Takao honestly didn't know what he did wrong, and it made him furious, as well as you. Whenever Takao would ask about you, Midorima always told you and kept you updated. It was sweet. Maybe Takao was right, that you guys were perfect for each other, because Midorima was starting to fill the spot that Takao left behind.   You tried to shift your feelings towards the green-haired giant, but they weren't the same, they felt too forced. It was Kazunari. When you saw Midorima, you saw him.   It was Takao, and then it was no one. You didn't need him romantically in your life anymore. It was going to be ok. You kept telling yourself that once you got over your feelings for Takao, you could find away to love the man your parents would choose for you. -- "I'm home!" You called as you entered your house one Friday. You only had a week until you graduated. Your parents had you meet a few men that were possible people you would marry, but none were official. Oh, and you meant men, all of them were in their mid to late twenties, even though some of them weren't business professionals, they all seemed happy in their line of work, and they were all alphas. There was no response, so you assumed your mom was probably in the back yard in her garden and your dad was late home from work. You toed off your shoes before going to your room to put your things away and change. You hated your school's uniform with a passion, it was the only thing you were happy to leave behind when you graduated. Once you were changed, you headed to the kitchen to only be stopped in the doorway when you saw your parents at the table, along with two other adults you were almost positive were Takao parents. "[Name]," You mother started with a smile, "Good timing, I'm guessing Takao isn't with you?" You shook your head, "Then he should be here soon too, come sit." She said and patted the empty spot between her and your father. You did as she motioned to and sat down next to her, and as soon as you did, you heard the front door open and close. Takao walked into the kitchen, not as startled as you were when he saw everyone. Silently he sat down between his parents, across from you. "I'm guess you're confused why we're all here?" You father asked directed mainly at you, meaning Takao must know what's going on. You shot Takao a look, but he remained passive, not giving you any hint to what was going on, "I'm very confused." "Well," It was Takao's father that spoke up, "Kazunari here came to use yesterday with a very serious question. And because he's still underage, that is why we are here." "I asked my parents and your parents if I can court you." Takao blurted, making himself as well as you blush. Your flustered blush quickly turned to one of anger, but you remained as well composed as you could, "Oh really? And why's that?" Just when you forced yourself to get over him in these past few months, he comes tumbling back in your life like this, to ask for your hand in marriage nonetheless. Takao glanced at his parents before sighing, slumping forwards slightly, "Because you said you loved me," Your parent's gaze shot to you, "And when we stopped talking, I didn't realize how much I cared for you." "But you don't love me." You cut him off. "Well, no-" "Then that's it. I'm not going to say yes to your offer of courtship if you don't feel how I did about you." You cut him off again, shocking everyone in the room. "D-Did?" He stuttered out. You nodded, "I know I didn't make an effort to try to reconcile with you, neither did you," A look of guilt flashed over his face, "I got over my silly crush, and I moved on." Your anger slowly dissipated into an passive look. "I'm sorry Kazu, but I have to decline your offer." "Don't you want to talk about it with him in private for a while [Name]?" You mother asked, you could hear the concern in her voice. You gave her a smile and shook your head, "I'm sure, don't worry." You turned back to Takao and gave him a smile, a real one, "You'll always be my first real love, but I can't force you to marry me just because I love you and you don't love me. It would be wrong." "I could learn to love you more than just my platonic love I have for you." Takao begged, he looked so sad, you felt your heart go out for him. But you shook your head once more, "It wouldn't be the same, I know you won't be able to feel that way about me. Plus I'm older than you, and I have no doubt we can continue our friendship, I'll-I'll be ok too." Your parents looked stunned at you for a moment, obviously not expecting like sort of reaction to come from you. They were expecting you to snatch up the opportunity to have someone you knew court you. Takao sighed again, "Are you sure?" You nodded, a grin wide on your face, "Positive, plus some of the guys my parents have introduced me to are like super hot, so I'll be fine." You teased, surprisingly making everyone laugh. Your mom asked Takao parents if they would like to stay over for dinner while you and Takao headed to your room like any other time he was over. Kakao was lost from you for a moment, and you were so glad it was only for a few months. If you lost him forever, it would have crushed you. -- Even though it was a rough and bumpy road, everything panned out for the most part. Two months after you graduated you and your parents decided on one of the eligible guys they had pick to court you. You thought he was rather attractive, even if he was ten years older than you, and a little rough around the edges, but that meshed well with you. He wasn't one of the most successful one out of the pack, but he was still your favorite. Maybe it was because you found out that his grandfather was the one who forced him to take advantage of your parents invitation. It was cute that he only did this to appease his grandfather, it made it easier for you to be yourself around him than anyone else you met before. His name is Ukai Keishin, and you were surprised that through the midst of everything, you guys actually managed to fall in love with each other, even if he was older than you. Your courtship lasted only half a year before you got married in the fall. Takao was your best man at your modest wedding. Well, it was as modest as you could get with Ukai inviting his entire volleyball club, it was too cute. You still loved Takao, but in a different way now. You supported him wholly when he asked for your advice a year and a half after your marriage, and while you were expecting your first child, how he would ask his girlfriend to marry him. You were so glad you didn't lose him.

[lookatthesetreasures]

conversation means both of you are listening

another birthday gift for the incomparable kazliin! again, if you don’t know her, she’s the author of Rivals universe, one of the best yuri on ice fanfic out there, no lie. 

a running theme in her work has been conversations overheard, postponed, or avoided, and of course this results in ~shenanigans~. but to say that everything would be better if they finally talked would be overly simplistic, and after thinking of it for a while, i ended up writing this fic. i hope y’all (especially kaz) enjoy this! 

Summary: “you talk, but i don’t hear the words you’re saying,” said the pot to the kettle. 

“Why do we have to know this? That cruelty

has to exist to propel kindness into relief; that relief

must first imply pain?”

-- Ange Mlinko

I. Goddamn Room Service

Yuuri woke up sweaty, sticky, and completely surrounded by warmth. He blinked blearily, trying to chase the last of his drowsiness away – and then the closeness of another body registered, and Yuuri snapped to attention.

That was Viktor Nikiforov. He’d just slept with Viktor Nikiforov, and that was Viktor’s dick bumping against Yuuri’s thigh, and Viktor’s naked chest he was rubbing his face against. His face burned, and he wrenched himself away from Viktor’s arms, landing in a heap of soiled sheets.

Memories of the previous night began to filter in, and Yuuri’s panic steadily grew. He tasted bile at the back of his throat remembering how much he had enjoyed it, felt sick remembering how thoughtlessly he had declared his hatred of Viktor. It was absolutely impossible to deny what had happened; not with the burn at the end of his spine, the damning scratches on Viktor’s back, the trail of clothes from the doorway to the bed.

At the loss of warmth beside him, Viktor had begun to stir. Yuuri stared at him, horrified at the aftermath  of what could only be called ‘hate sex’, as Viktor sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Then he stopped, eyes widening at the sight of Yuuri, naked, covered in semen and sprawled out at the foot of his bed.

Well, thought Yuuri, almost hysterically. At least I’m not the only one freaking out.

Last night he had assiduously avoided looking at Viktor, losing himself in the pleasure of other sensations instead: the smell of Viktor’s skin, the sound of his broken breathing, the slick slide of his dick in Yuuri’s ass. In the light of the early morning, however –

Viktor was achingly beautiful, silver hair offset by the morning sunlight, and the hard planes of his face and body made soft by sleep. He was just as naked as Yuuri, the graceful lines and dips of his shoulders and collarbones covered with vicious marks of Yuuri’s teeth from the previous night, red and purple against Viktor’s pale skin. Somewhere in Yuuri’s brain, past the agonizing awkwardness of this encounter, the leftover animal instinct that drove him last night began to purr. Viktor was beautiful like this, naked and covered in all sorts of marks that screamed of Yuuri’s presence.

Yuuri flushed, feeling the heat all the way down to his chest. This was not the sort of thing that he should be realizing about his greatest rival after a night of hatefucking.

Viktor looked to be at a loss, mouth hanging slightly open. He schooled his expression, seemed to marshal this thoughts, and before he could even begin to speak, panic had overtaken Yuuri and he all but sprinted to the bathroom.

“I – I just – I need to clean up,” he stammered over his shoulder, slamming the bathroom door closed behind him.

It was true, he did.

Semen had dried up into a disgusting crust on his stomach, and even though it took some time to clean it off, Yuuri stayed shut up in the bathroom longer than necessary, dreading the conversation waiting outside. To make matters worse, there wasn’t a towel in the bathroom, and as he tried to dry off as well as he could, Yuuri resigned himself to walking out naked.

Viktor had already put on pants and a t-shirt when Yuuri stepped out of the bathroom, and was setting down a tray of tea on the little breakfast nook of his hotel room. All of their clothes had been picked off the floor, and the room looked tidier. Viktor still looked shell-shocked, and Yuuri flushed again, embarrassed by the question he was going to have to ask.

“Your clothes are on that chair,” Viktor supplied, and Yuuri muttered his thanks, hurriedly getting  dressed in last night’s clothes. His mind stalled, however, when confronted by the ruin of his shirt.

He was still freaking out over this crisis, when Viktor said hesitantly: “I got you some genmaicha, if you wanted something to drink, before…” He trailed off.

Yuuri turned, confused. “Genmaicha?”

Viktor frowned, and asked carefully, “That is what you drink in the morning, right? I was going to order sencha instead, but then I remembered that you once mentioned in an interview that you preferred genmaicha in the morning.”

Yuuri tried to recall an interview where he had mentioned this; there’d been so many over the years that he couldn’t recall. There must have been an interview like that, though; Yuuri really did drink genmaicha in the morning. He used to have Mari-neechan mail genmaicha to Detroit before he found a Japanese grocery store that stocked it near the university.

The odds that Viktor had watched one of his interviews, however –

“You watched my interviews?” Yuuri asked numbly, accepting the cup from Viktor. Viktor blushed, and really the whole morning had been entirely overwhelming for Yuuri. Why would Viktor Nikiforov be watching trashy, trivial interviews about what kind of tea Yuuri drank in the morning?

“I like your skating,” Viktor admitted, scooping cherry jam into his own black tea. That was his preferred morning beverage; Yuuri knew that, something he hated himself for knowing. Because for months before the Junior World Championships where everything changed, Yuuri had taken his own tea with cherry jam even as his mother had laughed indulgently from the sidelines.

There must have been something in his expression, because Viktor turned defensive.

“I really do admire your skating. It’s beautiful, the way you move on ice. I’ve been following your career since you were a junior,” Viktor chuckled self-consciously. “Georgi used to tease me for it, a few years back.”

No matter how much Viktor spoke, it didn’t seem to be sinking in. His face was probably contorted into an unattractively baffled expression by now, and he could only watch helplessly as Viktor continued.

“I really wanted to speak to you, before. I tried once, when you were still a junior. But you seemed so unresponsive then, so I backed off, and when you went into seniors…”

Everyone knew how that story went, and it seemed that Viktor hadn’t needed last night’s confirmation of hate to know that Yuuri didn’t like him. An awkward silence descended between them, as both of them recalled exactly why they were both sitting in Viktor’s hotel room in Saitama, drinking tea in sweatpants while Yuuri was still shirtless and covered in love bites.

Yuuri wanted to avoid Viktor’s gaze, but he couldn’t.

There was a burning intensity in those cold, blue eyes, the question hanging heavy in the air between them. Yuuri willed Viktor not to say it, not to make it real; but when had Viktor ever obliged him? Yuuri felt the question rather than heard it; it had the same inevitable impact as falling on the ice after a doomed jump. He’d been waiting for this question for nearly ten years.

“Why do you hate me?”

Yuuri’s hands were shaking, and he set down his tea cup with a loud clatter.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Never, in his wildest daydreams, had he ever expected that he’d have to answer these questions just hours after having sex with Viktor. He’d imagined saying those words on a podium. Taunting Viktor with the implication at a banquet – much like he did in Sochi or on the dance floor last night. But the quiet intimacy of waking together, Viktor’s thoughtful kindness even after Yuuri’s needless cruelty last night, Viktor’s inexplicable admiration of Yuuri that stretched back to the beginning of Yuuri’s career – Yuuri was confused and thrown off-balance, when before he had been unwavering in his resentment.

Viktor was still looking at him, expectant, and Yuuri refused to acknowledge how small it makes him feel, how petty.

He didn’t have to answer.

He refused to.

He’d given his body, his virginity, to this man last night, sacrificed years of hardship and brutal training just to catch up to Viktor even before that. He refused to give any more ground, refused to give Viktor another opportunity to hurt him.

Yuuri felt the tears come like they always did, and he angrily swiped at them. He hated this. He’d sworn not to cry over Viktor again, and he’d be damned if he ever looked weak in front of him again.

He got to his feet, steeling himself, only to realize that he was trembling.

“Do you have a shirt I could borrow?” Yuuri asked with as much dignity he could muster. His voice came out frigid and robotic, but Yuuri couldn’t care. He needed to leave. Everything felt surreal, like everything was happening at a distance and Yuuri’s senses were straining to keep him grounded.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Viktor said quietly. He’d stood up too, and Yuuri resented Viktor’s extra height at that moment. He’d looked up to Viktor before and didn’t want to do it ever again.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yuuri snarled. “It was years ago, and it was never important enough to you that you’d remember.” Yuuri strode across the room to Viktor’s wardrobe, yanking it open and taking the first shirt he could find, pulling it on. Viktor had ruined his shirt last night; he could damn well take one of Viktor’s as a replacement.

“It’s clearly important if it still means something to you,” Viktor finally snapped back, slamming the wardrobe door shut. He braced his arm against it, cutting off Yuuri’s path to the door and crowding into him. Viktor’s arm trembled, and Yuuri could see him struggling to reign his anger in. He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“I don’t know why you hate me so much,” Viktor said, quiet. “But if you tell me – if I knew why – maybe I could fix it.”

There was silence, and then a hysterical laugh bubbled its way up in Yuuri’s throat. It sounded cruel and mocking, even to Yuuri’s ears. It hurt. He never wanted to be a cruel man.

“It’s not something you can fix that easily.”

“Won’t you let me try?” Viktor pleaded, not missing a beat. Yuuri almost scoffed, but there was something in Viktor’s eye, something desperate and earnest. “Yuuri, I’m in –”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Yuuri pushed him away, furious.

“Don’t throw those words around lightly.” He pushed past Viktor and unearthed his shoes, shoving his feet in.

“I’m not,” Viktor protested. He watched helplessly as Yuuri tried to tie his laces and failed, swearing explosively in Japanese. Yuuri slumped to the floor. The tears hadn’t stopped since Viktor had started talking; Yuuri gave in to it finally, buried his face in his hands and sobbed. It was all too much. This, here, was all his dreams from before and all his confusion from after, but he couldn’t take it, he couldn’t understand anything anymore. Too much had happened in too little time, and it went by too fast for Yuuri to comprehend.

He barely noticed when Viktor sank to the floor beside him, a comforting weight. He turned to bury his face in Viktor’s shoulder. “I loved you,” Yuuri sobbed. “I worshipped you, and you treated me like nothing.”  He felt Viktor stiffen against him in shock, and Yuuri expected to feel a stab of vindictive pleasure. He felt nothing, instead.

“It was a long time ago, and I was just a fan – what would I have mattered to you? But you had already changed my life; from the moment I saw you I knew you were going to change my life. But you didn’t even remember.”

“Yuuri, what are you saying?” Viktor’s voice was hoarse and horribly confused. That only made Yuuri cry harder, and Viktor’s arm tightened around him. Yuuri didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to admit to anything further than what he let slip, but he knew that he had to say something or he would never get another chance. Every sentence was punctuated by a sob, every breath a struggle to take in, but Yuuri needed to get this out, and get it out now. It was poison, and it had been swimming in his veins for too long.

“It was years ago. I wanted to skate like you. My parents knew, and that year when the Junior Grand Prix Final was in Tokyo, they had taken me to see you.” Yuuri refused to look at Viktor. “I had the poster, I was lined up to get it signed and everything. And then I met you.”

“What did I do?” Viktor whispered, horrified. “Yuuri, what did I do?”

The tears had dried. All that was left was a dull emptiness. “You broke my heart. I worshipped you, and you broke my heart.”

II. Overheard at the World Championships

Chris is a wonderful friend, Viktor knows. He’s a man who doesn’t make friends easily, who charms many but shies away from casual intimacy for reasons that even he never really understood. It’s easier to present yourself as something easily digestible, and Viktor has always known how to work an audience. But Chris – he knew how to read Viktor’s silences, knew how to tell if Viktor was lying. It’s both a blessing and a curse.

“Viktor, you want something you know you’re never going to have. You need to give it up now. You’re practically begging for scraps as it is and Yuuri’s never going to love you back.”

Chris is a wonderful friend, but hearing the raw, unvarnished truth stings.

“I know!” Viktor only barely manages to keep himself from shouting, and he instantly feels guilty for the way Chris flinches in surprise at his anger. Viktor knows that he needs to keep this part of himself hidden away, to never speak of it. He knows it’s ugly; it’s his bitterness and disappointment, fury and desperation. Viktor doesn’t know how to deal with it, doesn’t want to deal with it. It makes him cry and flub his jumps: therefore, useless. So Viktor swallows it down and buries it, tries to smile again.

“’I’m sorry, Chris,” he tries again, forcing his voice to be calmer. “I just – I know what’s going on, okay? I understand how this works. But I can’t change what I want. If this is all I’m ever going to get, even if I can’t have anything else, then I’ll take it. It’s better than nothing, after all.”

“Is it?” Chris demands.

Viktor avoids his eyes and pushes past him towards the door. He doesn’t want to talk to Chris, doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. He’s bitten back these words, kept himself starved of all hope and stunted, because it would never work. Yuuri could never know, because Yuuri had made it clear that it would never happen.

Viktor wrenches open the door, and his heart stutters in his chest.

Just outside the door, clutching his gym bag so hard his knuckles are turning white, is Yuuri, who looks just as shell-shocked as Viktor feels. Chris, who had hurried to catch up with Viktor, barrels into him from behind, and Viktor crashes into Yuuri. Yuuri drops the bag, and the hallways echo loudly, damning Viktor to his humiliation.

There was no way that the sounds of their argument hadn’t carried beyond the closed door.

The three of them stare at each other in a horrified silence, until Viktor croaks out: “How much of that did you hear?”

Yuuri says nothing, but his eyes are wide and he’s shaking, which is answer enough.

Viktor shoves Chris out of the way and tugs Yuuri into the storage room, slamming the door closed and locking it. Yuuri’s small gasp of pain startles Viktor out of his panic, and he drops Yuuri’s wrist like he’s been burned. He’s never wanted to hurt Yuuri, and Viktor is ashamed to see that he’d gripped Yuuri’s wrist  hard enough that a thumb-shaped bruise was already starting to form on Yuuri’s skin. Yuuri hisses and rubs at the bruise, studiously avoiding Viktor’s gaze.

Neither of them says a word, and every second of uncertainty feels like choking to Viktor.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Viktor eventually blurts out. “I know you only ever wanted a casual thing; this is too much for me to ask from you. You can just pretend you didn’t hear a word –”

“Why?”

It’s the only word Yuuri says, but Viktor understands him anyway.

Why did he fall in love with Yuuri Katsuki? It seems like it’s been such a long time since it started, such a long time since Viktor had tried to deny it, but the reasons come up clear and true.

“You’re beautiful when you skate,” Viktor starts, voice still hoarse. “You have so many emotions on the  ice, like you’re opening yourself up for everyone to see. But when you leave the rink that window closes, and no one can ever tell what you’re thinking. That’s beautiful too, in its own way.”

“That’s not enough,” Yuuri snaps. He still refuses to look at Viktor. “That’s never enough for love.”

That stings, but Viktor takes a deep breath and plows on. “I know it’s not enough. But I want to get to know you. I want to hold your hand, I want to kiss you goodnight, I want to make you laugh and smile and make you happy. It feels like magic when you smile, like what’s making you smile is the most precious thing in the world.

“When you’re happy you look – like you feel it, in the deepest parts of your heart. When you’re on the ice you look like you’re feeling everything down to your bones. I want that.” Viktor’s voice breaks. “You’re the only one who’s made me feel anything this deeply. Even when you –” hurt me, leave me “—it’s more than anything I felt in so long.”

Viktor laughs, a small, broken sound. He must sound pathetic, but when he glances at Yuuri, Yuuri looks stunned.

“Me? I think you’re making a –”

“Don’t,” Viktor says sharply. “Don’t you dare try to make light of my feelings, Katsuki. I know you don’t feel anything back,” a hitch in his breath, “but even you wouldn’t be so cruel.”

Yuuri opens his mouth, shuts it again. It feels awful, coming clean. This is something Viktor’s held onto for years, something he’s mercilessly tried to crush ever since Yuuri had confessed his hate and demanded to be fucked in the same breath. Viktor hates it – hates himself for falling in love when Yuuri has only ever hated him, hates Yuuri for never explaining why. A tear falls to the ground, and in the stillness of a rundown storage room in a foreign city, both of them are frozen in shock.

“Oh,” Yuuri murmurs. “You’re crying.” He steps into Viktor’s space, and before Viktor can protest, Yuuri brushes Viktor’s hair away from his face. “You’re really crying.”

Yuuri’s hands cup his face, thumb brushing away his tears. Viktor cries harder, silently. If none of them makes a sound, neither of them says anything that meant anything real here – maybe Viktor could pretend, just once, that it was tenderness that made Yuuri’s hands so soft and warm against his skin.

Yuuri’s eyes are a gentle brown; they always have been. But now, there’s something in there that reminds Viktor of Yuuri’s graceful Ina Bauer. It’s something he’s never seen in the guarded tension that was Yuuri’s default face to the public, or in the wild hostility that made their nights together so passionate and punishing. Viktor could look into those eyes forever, but in that moment, it’s too much.

Viktor closes his eyes.

A brief exhale, and then there’s a touch on his lips, soft and chaste. They’ve never kissed like this before. All the kisses of the past were meant to hurt, meant to bruise or draw blood, and in those moments they had felt glorious. But on the flight home, when they were going their separate ways, the bruises on his lips, his neck, the scratches on his back – they hurt, bodily pain mixing with the ghosts of an aching heart.

This kiss felt like a caress.

“I need to think about this,” Yuuri said quietly when they break apart. “I just – I need time.”

For the first time, hope begins to unfurl in Viktor’s chest.

It was a chance. He’ll gladly take it.

III. Jumping to Conclusions: or Chapter 13 Fucked All of Us Up, or: Viktor Please Start Knocking Before You Enter

“Yuuri, I saw you –” Viktor pauses, sees the pills in Yuuri’s hands, and blanches. White-hot terror runs through Yuuri’s veins, but Viktor, after a moment, leaps into action.

“Solnyshko, did I hurt you badly last night?” he rushes to his side, worried. “Last night was… amazing,” Viktor blushes, “but if you were hurt it was most definitely not worth it.”

Viktor must think they’re painkillers, Yuuri realizes. For his potentially sore ass. Yuuri shakes himself, mentally castigating himself for jumping to such baseless conclusions. What else could Viktor have thought they were? Viktor had warned him about a sore ass the night before, even before they started really getting into it, and even Yuuri knew what he was getting into when he -

He recalls what he said last night, and he blushes. He can’t believe he said that. Yuuri saying “Make me remember you when I do,” so confidently one night, and the next morning shaking in fear when Viktor finds him drinking painkillers?

Suddenly it’s hilarious, and Yuuri begins to laugh.

“You think these are painkillers?” Yuuri asks through his laughter, and only laughs harder at Viktor’s confused expression. Viktor starts to look affronted.

“You can hardly blame me,” Viktor mutters sullenly. “’Make me remember you’, he says; of course one could not hold back on the lovemaking.”

That only makes Yuuri laugh harder, his earlier anxiety forgotten. His ass, as expected, was sore that morning. It still twinged now, but not enough that he’d have to take painkillers. Just enough that he’s not likely to forget last night any time soon. The hickies are there too – stark across his neck, and this morning when he came down to breakfast Celestino only raised an eyebrow before commenting: “You’re not going to be able to hide that with your costume.”

His coach was probably judging him, but Yuuri hadn’t cared. It was a fantastic night.

“So, what are those pills for? Are you sick?” Viktor prods at the pillbox, amused by the poodle print. “Where did you get the box anyway? It looks just like Makkachin!”

“Phichit got it for me,” Yuuri says fondly. “My dog’s a poodle too, remember? He got it for me years ago, when I –” Yuuri stops mid-sentence, equal parts horrified and surprised. Horrified, at the realization that he was about to tell Viktor Nikiforov, of all people, about his anxiety disorder. Surprised, because of how easy the whole conversation seemed to feel.

“Yuuri?” Viktor prompts, head tilting in concern. Makkachin does the same thing, Yuuri recalls, and suddenly, he feels unspeakably fond of this man.

Instead of saying anything about the pillbox, Yuuri just draws Viktor in for a kiss. Viktor goes rigid in surprise at first, but melts into it, arms encircling Yuuri’s waist. It all feels so natural; nothing about being with Viktor feels forced or unwelcome. Somehow, Yuuri always knew this, even way back when they were still hurting each other terribly.

They break apart, and Viktor looks more than a little surprised -- but, Yuuri is cheered to see, not displeased. Yuuri gently tugs the pillbox from Viktor’s hands, bends down to get his water bottle. He has already decided to love Viktor. and It was about time he started to trust Viktor too.

“Phichit got me this box three years ago,” Yuuri begins, “because I hated seeing the prescription bottles for the meds my psychiatrist gave me. Of course, when I travel I need to bring along labelled medication, but I don’t like bringing them to the rink and letting people see. So –” Yuuri gestures to the box.

Viktor has gone quiet, whether in surprise or in deference to Yuuri’s story, Yuuri doesn’t care. He’s just grateful for the silence, the way Viktor lets him sort out his own thoughts in aborted half-sentences.

“It’s for my anxiety,” Yuuri finally manages. “I used to get these really awful panic attacks before competitions, and in my first senior GPF –”

“Oh,” Viktor breathes. “Is that why you messed up your short program in your junior debut?”

Yuuri had not forgotten that somehow, Viktor had walked into him crying his heart out in his junior debut at the JGPF. He wasn’t likely to forget. Who’d have thought, years ago, that the same man who spurred him on with hate and spite would be a man that Yuuri’s heart would call beloved?

Yuuri only nods, and Viktor says nothing. He just lets Yuuri lean against his side as Yuuri swallows down his pills, basking in the companionable silence. Yuuri wants to stay here forever, wants to rest his head on Viktor’s shoulder and unburden himself, secret by secret, to Viktor’s capable hands. He’s never wanted that before, and the strength of that desire surprises him. But it’s Viktor. Viktor has always surprised him; why should it be any different now that Yuuri had admitted he was in love?

“Thank you for telling me,” Viktor whispers into Yuuri’s hair. “You really don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable.”

“That’s alright,” Yuuri murmurs. The smile, when it comes, feels easier than it has felt for years. “If feels right, with you.”

[not-another-imagine-blog]

Lucky (Auston Matthews)

Eurobros4ever said:

Hey!! Can you do #35 from that Drabble list with auston Matthews?

#35: “Why’re you dressed like that?” - “Does that mean it looks good or should I change?”

Word count: 1517

You were not a Leafs fan. In fact, quite the opposite. You’re a diehard fan of your hometown team, and nothing, not even moving to Toronto, could change that. You proudly wore your home jerseys around town, letting everyone know that your alliance was not with them.

Things changed when you started dating Auston, though.

Even though you still didn’t like the Leafs, you liked watching Auston play for the Leafs. If there was anything in the world that could persuade you into putting on that hideous (in your opinion) blue jersey, it would be if it said ‘Matthews’ on the back.

That still didn’t mean that you would ever willingly go out in public in a Leafs jersey, though.

This was something that continually bugged Auston to no end. He loved that you were such a supportive hockey girlfriend, and he was very appreciative of you coming to all of his home games, but he would love it a whole lot more if you just wore the jersey already. It was a dumb fight, but it was one that you both constantly picked at.

Today, for instance, you’re hanging out at Auston’s as he gets ready for the game. You’re in a nice, neutral colored t-shirt with a bomber jacket to keep you warm. Seems like a nice outfit that’s perfect for someone who isn’t a fan of either team. To Auston, however, it’s not good enough.

“Do you want to borrow one of my jerseys for tonight?” He asks from the bathroom, combing his hair into place. You inadvertently let out a snort from your position on his bed. Auston curiously pokes his head out of the bathroom, eyebrows raised. “What was that about, missy?” He questions you. You sit up on the bed and glance at him.

“I thought I looked nice tonight!” You argue. Auston looks you up and down.

“I mean, you do look great. I think you always look great. But you’d look better wearing my jersey to the game tonight…” He trails off, letting you know just what he wants. You sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“Auston, you know that I support you no matter what I wear, right?” Auston nods.

“Of course I do, but I’d love to score a goal and see you cheering me on in my jersey.” He says.

“I still love you even if I’m not wearing the stupid jersey.” You tell him, getting fed up with the argument you have all too often.

“I get it, you love your team more than me. That’s fine, whatever. Just quit playing with me and making this a game, okay?” Auston snaps.

“I don’t love my team more than you!” You accidentally raise your voice a little more than you should, standing up now. Auston’s head snaps towards you, his nostrils flaring out, a habit he does when he’s angry.

“Then wear the damn jersey!”

“No! That’s final! I don’t see why this is so big of a deal!” You’re both in each other’s faces now.

“It’s not!” He yells.

“Yeah, okay.” You scoff and grab your phone and keys, walking out of his room.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Home.” You respond tightly, not looking back.

“Well, are you still coming to my game?” You finally glance back to see him standing in the doorway, almost looking lost.

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you now, would we?” And with that you leave, regret in every step.

You stand in front of your closet, warily eyeing the Matthews jersey that Auston had bought you a couple of months earlier.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” You say to the clothing item. It remains in its spot, challenging you. “What, just because he’s my boyfriend and I may or may not love him, I don’t know yet because we’re not at that point in our relationship, that means I’m supposed to wear his jersey? That’s the ultimate level of support? As if, somehow, if I don’t wear his jersey then I’m a terrible girlfriend?” You rant to the empty room. You groan and grab the jersey, throwing it onto your bed. “I’m a terrible girlfriend! I let my hockey team get ahead of my boyfriend and his career!”

You’re pacing now, not sure if your should do what you’re planning on doing. With a deep breath, you strip your t-shirt off and throw Auston’s jersey on, mildly appreciative of how well your boyfriend knows your size.

“Damn it, I look good in this jersey!” You whine childishly, gazing at yourself in the mirror. You finally sigh, throwing a pair of shoes on.

“Here goes nothing. My first outing in a Leafs jersey.” Slowly, tentatively, you walk towards the door, ready to absolutely shock your boyfriend.

You’re a little bit late to the game, arriving halfway through the first period. You find your seat, seeing as how it’s the same one against the glass that you’ve had all season, and sit down, waiting excitedly for Auston to see you. You’re sure that he’s noticed your absence, since you can see his ‘grumpy face’ from here. You have to wait a few minutes before Auston’s back on the ice again, and then a few minutes more before the face-off’s in the zone closest to you. The game goes to a TV break and Auston skates in a circle, trying not to get iced. You bang on the glass, capturing his attention. Auston glances up and waves slightly before noticing what you’re wearing. He can’t stop the huge grin that’s now plastered on his face as he nudges Mitch, who laughs at the sight of you in a Leafs jersey, hiding your bright red face.

Auston makes good on his promise to score a goal for you in a Leafs jersey, ending the night with a goal, an assist and a win. You stand outside of the team locker room, eagerly waiting for Auston.

He shows his face eventually, walking out with a sly smile. You hold out your arms and do a slow turn, letting him see you in the jersey.

“Well? Whaddya think?” You ask.

“Why’re you dressed like that?” Auston tries to stay serious, but can’t fight the smile from tugging at the corner of his lips. “Does that mean it looks good or should I change? Because I didn’t really plan on bringing a change of clothes.” You joke. Auston doesn’t manage to get a word out, still staring at you with that goofy smile on his face. “Auston?” You giggle, waving your hand in front of his face. His eyes finally focus again as he grabs you and pulls you towards him.

“Sorry, I guess I just didn’t realize how goddamn sexy you’d look in my jersey.” You blush intensely, giggling nervously.

“Auston.” You try to say warningly. He’s never really talked like that to you before, and to you, that’s just as sexy as you in his jersey is to him. He ignores you and instead kisses you, trailing down your neck and to your collarbone. You allow your head to loll back, closing your eyes for a brief second before they snap open again. “Auston, we’re in public.” You say seriously, physically having to remove yourself from his grasp. He looks up at you, blushing.

“I am so sorry.” He says sheepishly before grinning again. “Oh! I have something for you!” He digs around in his pockets for a moment before coming up with the puck he scored a goal with. “For you.” He dramatically presents you with the puck. You take it and read the tape.

‘The first time I got (Y/N) to wear my jersey,’ it says. You look up at him and grin.

“Wow, how commemorative.” You say sarcastically.

“Hey, this is a historic moment! I need photographic evidence of this!” He takes out his phone and starts snapping pictures as you attempt to grab his phone from him.

“Quit it!” You plead. “Stop it or I’m never going to wear your jersey again!” You joke. He eventually desists and you finally get outside.

“Thank you for wearing my jersey. I don’t think you know how much this means to me. It seems like some dumb superstition, I’m sure, but it’s just nice to see you there, cheering me on.” You smile and grab his hand.

“Hey, I’m already sacrificing enough for this team, might as well sacrifice my dignity.” You joke. Auston looks at you, fake pouting. “Kidding! Besides, this jersey fits me surprisingly well. How did you know my size?” You ask.

“I...may have snuck into your room and checked the size of your other jerseys.” You fake a gasp.

“How dare you have the audacity to be a good boyfriend and care about whether or not something fits me!”

“Does this mean that I can call you my good luck charm now? Force you to have to wear my jersey? I mean, you wouldn’t want the team to suffer, would you?”

“Don’t you put that evil on me, Auston Matthews!”

[lexieduranyoung-blog]

[Q&A] with Katie Doyle Cooley

I’m sure you’ve all noticed that I’m quite the fan of reality television, due to my recent dedicated blog post. So much, that I am actually one of three admins for a Facebook group, called “Challenge Fans”. Yes, I am that nerdy — It’s an open forum group where members can discuss MTV’s The Challenge and it’s affiliated shows (Road Rules, The Real World, and AYTO). The group was started in Aug ’16 and already has almost 6,000 members. It’s currently the largest and most active group, specifically dedicated to that show. Besides monitoring for assholes and porn links, I’ve also stepped up as the one admin who reaches out to past cast members. I started doing this in the second week of January — we now have almost fifty past cast-members in the group and I’ve gotten to do over a dozen Q&A’s with some of them as well. It’s been fun and extremely interesting, to say the least! https://www.facebook.com/groups/331249947206434/

I wanted to share this Q&A, that I did with Katie Cooley, with you all. Most viewers know her as Katie Doyle, the small and feisty chick from Road Rules: The Quest (2001). She was loud and fun, but never was very athletic — a lot of female viewers looked to her and said “that would be me”. At least I always did! She did, however, actually win one season (The Inferno) of The Challenge. Needless to say, she’s one of my favorite competitors — so it was very nostalgic and exciting, for me! The fact that she is one of my favorites is not the only reason that I was excited about this Q&A. I’ve followed Katie, on social media, for some time now and I’ve noticed that she has quite the eye for interior design! Check out her Q&A, below, to see what all she’s been up to since her last Challenge appearance, in 2010:

Q]: What is your favorite memory from your original season, MTV’s Road Rules: The Quest? A]: That was by far my favorite show. The experience was unique and new for all of us and we were so excited! It wasn’t about strategy, sabotage, betrayal or deceit. We genuinely liked each other and wanted to succeed as a group and win the handsome reward without sacrificing any more cast mates. I loved the mission of us breaking into a castle in Spain. Who gets to do that? And afterwards we were so happy, we went out on the town to celebrate. We would find cool restaurants and sip wine outside and just talk. Road Rules was just a cool show, maybe not as fun to watch (I preferred Real World back then) but definitely more fun to be a cast member on!

Q]: Which season of The Challenge was your favorite and why? A]: Gauntlet 2 was my favorite. I was actually “real life” friends with everyone on my team and it was the only show I was never sent into an elimination round! I had a lot of fun on that show and felt more relaxed because I knew I was pretty safe. I made it to the end, but we lost (not because of me! Ha). So I looked at it as an extended vacation with my friends and came home with some free swag and a little cash. Other than that, The Inferno is a favorite although I had the opposite experience. My team desperately tried to send me home every challenge but were unsuccessful — but we did win that season. And I helped figure out the puzzle that gave us the lead to win. Overall, I’m not athletic and pretty much did suck at the shows. I never cared as much as the others did and could care less if someone could run faster or eat worms quicker. I generally played a mental game and the producers would laugh because I would predict the moves these transparent idiots made before they made them. Haha.

Q]: Could you give us a little bit more insight into what all you’ve been up to, since your last appearance on the show? A]: Since my last show, I moved from Chicago to Kentucky to finish my bachelors degree. I graduated from the University of Kentucky and am a Finance Manager for a media production company. Since I also love decorating and all houses, I’m also a licensed real estate agent. This year, I’ll continue working on my CMA to gain expertise and professional advancement.

I also married my sweet husband 3 years ago and we have a 1.5 year old beautiful baby girl. We bought a house a few years ago that we are actually putting on the market this spring because we are building our custom dream home! I am beyond excited about picking out every single detail and design element.

Design and decor are a passion of mine and the company I work for actually hired me to design our 14,000+ sq foot office space. It was a huge undertaking as we renovated an entire building and I chose each detail, handled the project management and hired all the contractors. I’m also considering starting my own online design business later this year.

Overall, I’m good with numbers and decorating — not eating bugs or leaping off cliffs. Haha. I enjoyed my 20’s, having crazy experiences, but I’m most proud of my family and the life I’ve built since I have left the reality tv world. I’m grateful for my opportunities but I prefer earning my income the old fashioned way-with respect, dignity and credentials.

Q]: What was it that kept you coming back to film The Challenge? And what ultimately made you decide against it? A]: I went on them initially because they were fun, I was in an exotic location and everything was on MTV’s dime. We used to have a lot more freedom — access to phones, computers, books and music. We could leave the house at free will and actually experience the culture around us, but they took that away and then it was…nothing. You sit in some giant house with 30 people and have absolutely nothing to do. That breeds drama and resentment. People are so unbelievably bored, they start arguing or picking on each other. At that point, you wish there were two challenges a day just to speed the show along. And the food was disgusting and never enough for everyone in the house, not the good stuff anyway. And it was repetitive at that point. Same cast members, same challenges, same concept (Oh! But with a “twist”!) and the same winners. But that’s not the reason I really stopped, that’s just when they stopped being fun.

Truthfully, I wasn’t happy with the direction my life was going and I associated some of it with being on those shows. Finishing school was important to me, but I kept dropping out to do a challenge. Why? So I could inevitably embarrass myself on tv again? So people could say awful things about me and I make some half-assed attempt to redeem myself, only to do it all over again? No thanks. I started to care less and less and started to see (some-not all) other cast members as pathetic, as it became obvious these shows define them and give them some false sense of self worth. Then I wondered if people perceived me that way.

In my experience, on reality tv you have to develop a thick skin to handle the heavy criticism from your peers and even viewers. After 2 shows a year for a decade, I think I became hardened emotionally. My parents hated (the shows) and said I turned an experience into a lifestyle. They felt I was rewarded for bad behavior (drinking, fighting). Slowly, I did start to care and felt embarrassed over past shows and how I acted. I decided it was just time to move on from that chapter and to work hard for the lifestyle and reputation I ultimately wanted. I was turning 30 and frankly, it was time to grow up.

Q]: Who do you think is the next up and coming “Top Vet” on The Challenge? A]: Top vet? I don’t know. I DVR’d the last challenge but skimmed through most of it. I was bored because it’s the same shit. Johnny Bananas screws someone over and wins? Shocking.

Q]: Which cast-mates do you still keep in touch with? A]: I keep up with several people via social media but not many in person. Steve, from my Road Rules made a visit last month to say hi and I’m a bridesmaid in Trishelle’s wedding in March. I talk to her the most. I kept in close contact with Diem before she passed and I chat with Tori and Jillian from time to time about life and kids. I’m excited to see Adam (from my RR) at Trishelle’s wedding though! Fortunately most of my friends from the shows have moved on in life too and are married, have children and successful careers.

Q]: You mentioned that HGTV and Bravo were some of your new favorite networks. What are a few shows, from each network, that you enjoy? A]: Fixer Upper on HGTV and on Bravo I like Vanderpump Rules for all the ridiculous catty behavior (never said I stopped watching trashy tv! Haha) and Real Housewives of OC and Beverly Hills. But I like scripted tv too -This is Us, Timeless, The Affair, The OA…that is when I actually get time to watch tv!

Where to find Katie — on Social Media: Twitter: KatieCooley26 Instagram: katiecooley26