#there's like so many snippets just around of this sort of vibe from him but grabbing the ones I remembered from epubs were the easiest

[aston-axo]

Niki Lauda convincing everyone he was anything but as insane as the rest of them was the biggest con he ever pulled. I'm enamoured with the workings of his mind.

Something in me broke when I got near the end, and he was like "No, I WILL take time out of my book to complain about people stealing my clothes, the house never having yoghurt, and this one guy trying to sell me a meadow above market price, but I ain't having it."

Also,

>barges into rival's room >today i vin ze championship >refuses the elaborate >leaves

[bokettochild]

Hello, Ketto

I have had two of your concepts/ideas pinging around my brain in a manner vaguely reminiscent of the logo screensavers. So I’m asking a question in the hopes that vibes will solidify into actual plot bunny or that maybe brain will be satisfied and let it go for a bit.

Chain and birth order dynamics:

Wind and Twilight are oldest siblings

Time and Hyrule are baby siblings

Where do the others fall? Is Sky the weird combination of “whatever he needs to be” since he’s a ward of the academy/Gaepora?

Is Legend an oldest, middle, youngest or only?

I’ve read 😅 way too many versions of people’s backstories to remember.

So, funny story! I actually was exploring this concept in a fic that has been giving me troubles since I sat down to write it T-T

I wanted to write a fic about Wind big-brothering the chain into taking care of themselves but the boy rambles and I feared it would become tedious to read. Unfortunately, that's why I never post any of the stories I write about or from Wind or Wild's perspectives; they won't shut up and I can't make them speak more concisely.

Long story short though! Wind was going to sort of dig into the temperament and behavior of each hero and started to go "clearly a middle child, that one's a youngest, good golly Time you are 100% obviously the baby of your family" to himself. It felt sort of weird when writing it, but it also seems to have potential now that I've reread it.

I classify Twilight, Warriors, and Wind as Eldest children, Time and Hyrule as Youngest kids, and Legend and Wild fall into the middle-sibling category (I'll expound on that in the story if you all would like me to write it again). Wind classifies Four as a single-child (the irony) who is still adapting to having siblings out of nowhere, and is utterly innocent of how accurately he's assessed the smithy.

As for his methods of forcing them to take care of themselves, I have a snippet of one of my many drafts below if you want

“From now on, if you say or do anything self-deprecating or otherwise diminishing to your value as a person, which yes, includes throwing yourself into the way of a weapon to save someone who’s got it handled,” back comes the stern voice, just for Wild, who only cocks a brow back at Wind in a challenge (yeah, middle or eldest sibling for the champion, one of those), “then you have to add a rupee to the jar.” 

  The vet scowls at him- an expression that is more mature, but not too very far from Aryll’s pouts when he scolds her. “And why should we go along with that? You’re not the boss of us, Wind, we’re adults.” 

  The sailor crosses his arms, staring over at the vet sternly. “Because if we do this, then Hyrule’s not allowed to call himself lesser than the rest of us.”  

  The vet’s ears twitch forwards, treacherously curious. 

  “Because if we do this, Wild isn’t allowed to throw himself in danger.” 

  Twilight and Time both sigh in relief (they all do, but those two are the most noticeable). 

  “Because if you all go along with this, Warriors isn’t allowed to hide his problems in a bottle.” 

  The captain thinks he is sly, but Wind knows, and it appears the man hadn’t expected that as his gaze darts away shamefully. Time looks even more relieved though; both he and Wind have been watching since the war, they know. 

  “Because Legend doesn’t get to refuse help when he’s in enough pain to cry.” 

  Hyrule is the one pricking up this time. 

  “Because Twilight won’t be allowed to take on everyone’s problems and bottle up his own.” 

  Wild’s turn to sigh in relief, to glance at his mentor in worry as Twilight avoids his gaze.  

  “And Four can’t bottle everything up and yell at himself in the woods instead of talking to someone about his problems rather than the air.” 

  Unlike the others, the smithy actually just looks insulted, but while the shortest hero does open his mouth to protest, he closes it a moment later with a hiss of frustration, crossing his arms. Yeah, single child. He isn’t used to other people calling him out unless they are leaders like Time or adults like his grandfather. 

  Wind isn’t done though. “And Sky?” Crystal eyes meet his, curious and a bit confused. “This means you don’t get to agonize over whatever nonsense has been eating you and not get help. It’s making you depressed and your sleeping habits are reflecting that.” 

  People who sleep a lot are usually only ill, injured, or depressed in Wind’s experience, and while he knows there are such things as sleeping disorders, he’s snitched some of Four’s books and none of them mention anything that matches whatever is up with Sky. Depression though.... Tetra had slept a whole lot when she’d been trying to come to grips with her self-image and identity after their adventure, and the constant exhaustion through that time is a close match for Sky’s own behavior. 

  “Alright.” It’s Warriors who speaks, stepping up to take the lead and meeting Wind’s eye with a nod. “I won’t lie, I don’t like the idea of all of you fussing over me, but if this means the rest of you will be getting help, which yes, Wind, I do mean you too, then I’m game.” 

  The sailor chuckles. This isn’t a roll your eyes and huff in annoyance moment, this is a peacemaker moment. They are negotiating with the others, he needs to set an example and be mature. “I was planning on including myself, Wars. If I need help, I’ll ask, but if one of you thinks I’m failing to take care of myself you can call me on it, and if the others agree I’ll pay up just the same as you will.” 

  And that seems to do it. There’s some debate about it of course, Legend and Wild putting up the most fight about it (them being the worst at self-care as he’s seen) but eventually all cave at the promise of their brothers actually taking care of themselves, which is what Wind was counting on. 

  Rules are set of course, by Twilight’s insistence. “We can’t just punish each other for whatever we want, there needs to be ground rules and boundaries, even if they’re just a loose framework to reference.” The rancher insists. 

  That goes uncontested, so Warriors pulls out one of his notebooks and Legend one of his pens and, because Wild’s handwriting is the best, they all gather around the Champion and consider rules together. 

  In the end, they have nine. 

Rule 1: Self-deprecating comments regarding skills, the worth of a person and/or the validity of their life will result in a 20 rupee fine and extensive cuddles 

Rule 2: Blatant self-neglect (i.e. refusing to eat, refusing to sleep, not tending injuries or allowing help with injuries, lack of bathing/basic hygiene etc.) will result in both a 15 rupee fine and someone helping to ensure basic needs are met 

Rule 3: Self-injury and/or allowance of injury through purposeful carelessness in battle or throwing of self in the way of danger will result in a 20 rupee fine and a long talk 

Rule 4: Joking comments regarding a lack of self-worth will result in a 5 rupee fine 

Rule 5: Ask for help.  

Rule 6: The group must be in agreement regarding fines and consequences whenever an offence is made (with the exception of the accused) 

Rule 7: All money in the ‘care jar’ will go towards the group and will not be kept by any one person 

Rule 8: If someone believes they have not been judged fairly in regards to punishment they will be allowed to contest their sentence and defend themself without interruption or correction (all comments/questions will be saved for the end of the explanation) 

Rule 9: If someone hits a depressive state, punishment will be with-held and will be instead replaced with discussion in order to not further aggravate the deteriorated mental state 

  The last one is something Wild adds himself, but no one contests it; it’s a good one. Personally, Wind thinks it’s a good list in general, and he knows the others agree. Legend and Wild specifically look relieved when he suggests the eighth rule, which makes sense. He knows those two don’t have a great record with being allowed to speak up for themselves in certain regards. The champion has only hinted at being made to be silent, but they all know about the vet’s criminal record and how it resulted from misunderstandings he was never allowed to clear. 

  Once done, the list is carefully pasted to what Hyrule has aptly titled the ‘care jar’ and the thing is slipped back into Wind’s bag for the night, waiting (hopefully for a long while yet) to be pulled out for the first offence. 

[chairofchaos]

Evening friend!

You bring chaos to my life so here is a little chaos for you

2, 3, 5, 8, 19, 26

And just for fun because I know it will probably hurt me 40

Feel free to answer what you want and ignore the rest 🤍

GOOD EVENING.

Thank you for letting me bring chaos to your life, and for bringing me some in return. In your honor, I will answer all. Seemed like the most chaotic thing to do. I considered making separate posts for each question but then again that was a lot of work so just... bear with me. This is a long read, but hopefully, you will find it worth it.

2. Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to?

Yes. I am currently bouncing around multiple Greek/Roman tragedy adaptations of our beloved ACOTAR and TOG characters. I do not feel prepared to write these yet. I want to do them justice. That semester of studying tragic plays of the ancients has stuck with me.

3. How would you describe your writing style?

I don't even know how to answer this, but my best shot is this:

The vibe must be chaotic.

It must be written as fast as possible.

It should be entirely unplanned.

If it is planned, it should be entirely overwhelming and likely a bigger project than I should ever take on *cough cough* LETTERS *cough cough*

It's not a style as much as it is entirely based on my whims. And that's not always great. In fact, it's something I don't really enjoy about myself (comment on this and I will edit it out of this post so fast I SWEAR).

But I enjoy the product. I think there are at least a couple of you that do, too, so hopefully we can all enjoy that little piece of chaos together. If not, I'll just enjoy the pain I create on my own like a good little fanfic writer.

5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

I don't think such a thing exists. I don't like surprises? Idk, this doesn't really make sense to me. Clearly I have no problem tagging things Dead Dove so we all know what I'm up to lol

8. How slow is a slow burn?

Somewhere between 100 and 100k words. I genuinely do not care. Depends on the medium? The pacing? A slow burn described in a poem is going to look very different than a slow burn in a fic the length of The Iliad and the Odyssey. Or Wheel of Time (that's a long series, right?). I don't care. It's all great. I love slow burns. Haven't written one because I think those characters should be enjoying each other romantically on page 1, but I LOVE reading them.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

UNANSWERED STARS YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN. Is this what you expect to hurt (I haven't looked ahead at the other questions I'm doing this straight through, no edits, no takebacks. Welcome to Chaos- you get two.).

Eris was no saint, either. Cauldron knew he kept his mate up some nights. But the Cauldron also knew Azriel would get out of bed in the middle of the night and take off into flight, not returning until he knew Eris would also be awake. After the first time, they would rarely talk about where Azriel went or what he did. Instead, Eris would press a mug of overly sweet coffee into his hands and they would sit together in silence on the front porch, Azriel’s head on Eris’ shoulder and their hands clasped together. - {Working Title is Coffee and Psychotherapy. THIS ONE IS ACTUALLY FLUFF YOU CAN THANK DUSK-MUSE AND NINTHCIRCLEOFPRYTHIAN}

And maybe more along the lines of what you were expecting:

Azriel found the most enjoyment in the training and teaching of others. In his time as spymaster, he regularly found time to work with young soldiers, for which many have since thanked him, crediting him with saving their lives by instructing them in his limited spare time. In the years since the war, Azriel enjoyed collecting books from all over the world. The collection he amassed was the instigator for a library to honor his mate. - Death, and All That Follows (This may or may not be a sort of extended epilogue to something I wrote recently.)

26. What would you describe as OOC?

This is possibly a wild take: I don't think I care what is out of character for characters I write. It depends on the fic, sure. But I think perspective forms our understanding of characters, and seeing them in a new light can often bring a different, even "OOC" type attitude to fics which I often enjoy. I am very much an advocate for "Don't Like, Don't Read" not only for plot points but for characterization as well. If you don't enjoy the way someone writes your favorite (or your least-favorite!) character, don't read it. The beautiful thing about being a part of a fandom is the diversity of experiences within it.

I did not read Nesta's journey the same way you did, or the way your friend did, or the way my best friend did. I brought my own perspectives, my own experiences, to my interpretation of her actions, words, and thoughts. I came out of the other side loving her, and loving the way she loves. I recognize myself in her. I know I'm not alone in that. I know that there are a great many who do not like her in the slightest.

ACOSF Nesta was presented very differently to ACOTAR Nesta. (For the purposes of this argument, we are removing the debate about The Author Herself because I simply don't care at the moment and that's a much larger topic.) I don't think that anyone's interpretation of Nesta is "wrong" or "bad" because we all bring a pair of glasses to reading, and that glass is made of our experiences. That's the filter through which you consume the work. My glasses are different from yours. That's okay.

Little tangent while we're on the topic: I don't care if your glasses are different. But if you break those glasses to use the shards of glass for the purpose of hurting other people, that's a problem. I have a problem now, and so do you. Because of the inclusion of the argument above, it needed to be said, and so here it is: Don't hurt others because of your glasses. Theirs are different. Please learn to recognize that, and that it is okay to view pieces of media differently. Tangent over.

So TLDR on OOC: I don't care. If you want to write a piece where character canonically named Bubblegum Sunshine Princess because of her (in-canon) overwhelming joy and love of the outdoors and her kingdom's candy trees is a murderous assassin filled with rage and the destructive flame of a thousand suns, go right ahead. There's a very good chance I would love to read it.

40. Write a 9-word fic.

Title: This is a Thing [REDACTED] Learned. The title will be longer than the fic itself, and that's the beauty of The Thing [REDACTED] Learned. Thanks.

A/N: (Stars. My dearest friend. You expect pain here? Now I want to prove you wrong...)

Pairing: Your OTP. Or my OCs. Or is this about my life? Or yours? Who knows. I'm not currently well lol

...........................................

Knowledge came with no promises, no love, no you.

...........................................

All the love, Stars. You're the best. <3<3<3<3<3

[zannolin]

For fic ask game: F, M

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

oh HELL yes i've written so much dialogue i love lately. this never happens (i fucking hate writing dialogue).

“Amanda’s mom unfriended me on Facebook, you know,” he tells Johnny one night, as they sit on the back deck with their feet in the grass. He doesn’t know why he says it. Maybe he just wanted someone to know. In the light glowing through the paper paneling of the door behind them, it’s hard to make out Johnny’s expression. Not that Daniel’s looking, or anything. “That blows,” Johnny finally says. He takes a swig of beer. “You should unfriend her back.” Daniel can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at that. He feels oddly light. Better. “That’s not how Facebook works, Johnny.” A huff, rendered softer by the darkness. “It should be.” “Yeah, everything’s a fight with you, isn’t it?” There’s a pause before Johnny says, “Not everything, LaRusso.” They don’t say anything else for a while after that.

this section from objects in motion is one of my favorite exchanges i wrote in the Entire piece. it just has like. the vibes. like (i hope) as a reader it's obvious with the context that johnny has changed, and johnny is talking about daniel here, and daniel hasn't caught on so there's two completely different levels of conversation going on. plus it's got johnny attempting to be supportive (he's so dumb i love him) and daniel trying to lighten things up with a joke that completely misses the mark and they just kind of sit there because well. what do you say after that. what do you do! they don't know! for me it really captured the essence of where they were in their developing relationship at that point in the narrative.

was also very happy with how the sam and daniel "are you getting a divorce" conversation turned out, but even more so how the subsequent kata-with-johnny one went because there's a lot of subtext there about sam starting to figure things out and she's not sure how to feel about it but she's sort of hesitantly giving a kind of blessing, or the hope of one someday, with the "miguel said you were good together"—like she's asking are you happy and daniel's maybe saying i think so and inviting her to be a part of it. if she wants. i could write essays about my own fics man i've thought about this so much. i love them. BUT ANYWAY i'll stop now.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

so many. sooooo many. i have one where sam and johnny get yeeted back to 1985 to witness the all valley that year since daniel's an eternal knot of repression; ft lawrusso kinda sorta, sam and johnny bonding, sam being her father's daughter, and mr miyagi my beloved. i have a concept where daniel from canon universe (somewhere in s1-3 i think) gets swapped with daniel from a different universe where mr. miyagi is still alive and lawrusso is canon, which is an absolute fucking disaster but also great because i get to explore more damanda marriage issues and hey here's a daniel who will actually COMMUNICATE with johnny, and here's a johnny who will actually COMMUNICATE with daniel, and it's not even ooc because i make the rules. there's a vague sam and johnny bonding werewolf au knocking around in my head also, and i really really want to write a johnny and ali fic eventually. i have like a million more but i think that's enough for now.

ask game!!

[eldritchmochi]

yeah I am pretty young lmao, I'll spare you from another playlist by just naming some artists that gave me inspiration for god knows at some point

first off you mentioned Hozier, which I kinda only mention because he released a new album recently. Arctic Monkeys and Father John Misty are kinda in the same boat as him. More like the same lake.

The Amazing Devil and The Oh Hellos never fail to give me some sort of D&D/character inspiration. Ghost does?? something??? as well with characters, but specific ones. Same with Steam Powered Giraffe.

other than that, Library Magic by The Head And The Heart is very Wizard, along with The Magician by Andy Shauf. and because I just can't go without mentioning it, Queen is my favorite band. :)

that's all! with any luck it'll end up being useful somehow lol

hozier is one of those artists who i dont listen to on purpose like ever i dont thinki could name a single song of his with confidence BUT i know his voice starkly as one i really lusted after pre-t. i saw he just dropped a new album and i HAVE to give it a listen to especially the video of sssomething or other (full album mv??? pLEASE) because it stars domnall gleeson and i am still horny for that man even after all these years (he's the actor for hux for context lmao)

queen is also one of my long time favs, though definitely a band i dont know in and out the way i do with a lot of more modern punk bands lmao. freddie has and always will be Gender (god the video for i want to break free was IT for me in like 8th grade right around when i came out)

ive seen spg live before!! they are *great* experience even if you're not deep into the lore (i had friends who were big lore fans). i have heard precisely One And A Half Ghost Songs and im keeping it that way on purpose because its just sooooooo funny that im not into them because aesthetically they are way up my alley (and one of my sibs, a number of irl buddies, and MANY artists i follow are all nuts for them)

ive some passing familiarity with the artic monkeys, enough that i can pick out a number of their more popular songs on the radio even if i cant name them (i am garbage at song titles tho so)

i'll have to check out the rest, especially good Wizards Songs 👀

in response!! further things to check out:

FUNKY.FM - playlist by alexmoukala who is one of my FAVOURITE video game composers. i know him primarily through twitter where he posts snippets of remixed or reimagined video game music... but FUNKY (this one is particularly relevant to u based of ur playlist shared w me)

ye old spooky club 1995 - playlist by unnerving governess who i am 90% sure is gothic charmschool. i know i got the link thru her but i thiiink she also made it (another playlist that may vibe w u based off your playlist)

creature feature, especially the album "the greatest show unearthed" (ookey spooky rock with a lot of vincent price era horror camp and a lot of really impressive technical skill. i want it to be halloween damnit)

the mind electric by the miracle musical (behold, the essence of the inside of my brain but in tangible form. it is. incredibly ominous. do recommend headphones for max goosebumps (includes a lot of records played backwards type sounds and other distortions))

dance monkey by tones and i (one of my big essek songs since i get a lot of that vibe where he's beholden to his station for *so much* that its a disservice to his growth as a person)

bottom is a rock by mother mother (my m9 as a whole song. the chorus has a line for each of them i stg and if i could reliably draw i would do an old school lyricstuck to it)

my verdict on ur playlist btw is that it is very solid and cohesive a+, but *just* to the left of my tastes, largely because a lot of it skews 70s/80s which just by nature of the beast lacks the bass i like (because it was mixed entirely different compared to modern music, which is better suited for sounding big when played digitally through smaller speakers. ive heard some of these bands on big sound systems and theyre MUCH more in line with my tastes then lmao)

[yellow-faerie]

ooh! intrigued by eldritch feanor doc title?

Ooh ok so this is also called my Maia Míriel AU and the basic premise is that Míriel is a Maia and Fëanor is this half Maia. I have sort of vague plot ideas but the main point of change is that Fëanor was never really in the running for being crown prince because of who his mother was.

I think the best way to get the vibes is for a few snippets (the first is a snippet from the perspective of Rinwendë, Curufin's wife; the second is a Fëanor's PoV on his parents)

1)

Prince Fëanáro, the fated eldest prince of the Ñoldor.

He walks up the main street, alone, dressed in the gentle linens of a farmer and his hair braided with simply with ribbons of faded red.

By all means, he should blend right into the crowd.

Yet the market goers hush as he passes and step out of his path. There is something about him that has a terrifying appeal and there have not been many years since the horror of the Black Rider hunted them. Their prince he may be, but he is also the son of a Maia and that is obvious in each steady step he takes towards the palace and in each flicker of his eyes.

“It’s unnatural,” Rinwendë’s father used to tell her when she was little. The prince graced the streets more often back then, with his children strapped to his back or with his red-haired wife on his arm or by himself to peruse the goods on sale, and Rinwendë remembers her father scowling most fiercely when Prince Fëanáro had thought to come too close to his wares.

She also remembers one of the little elflings who had been peering around his father’s leg. He bore an uncanny resemblance – from the tips of his ears to his brightly curious eyes right down to the way he dressed – to the elf towering above him, buying half a crate of silver and a fair jewel from the stall behind.

They had stuck a tongue out at each other, before Rinwendë’s father had caught her and pulled her out of sight with scolding words.

"It’s unnatural,” he had said then, once he was fairly sure both princes were gone, “they are not like us. You cannot trust something like that.”

For nearly a century now, she has been living with her mother in the mountains rather than in the city with her father. It’s been a long time since she had worked full time at the selling stand, shouting at customers and keeping an eye on their wares from sneaky little fingers.

But she comes around often, to visit her father and brother, and to deliver the raw materials found in her mothers’ mines to be sold.

She is in the process of dropping off the last delivery to their shop in town when the Prince arrives, and an old, familiar hush falls over the marketplace.

She sees her father scowl and turn away, back into their shop behind the stall.

“Won’t just be him either,” Rinwilin says, brushing his hands on the front of his apron. Soot still clings to him from his trip to the forge earlier that day, and his face is worried as he traces Prince Fëanáro’s walk around the market although it lacks the true animosity of their father. “His sons are making a much more common appearance these days.”

Rinwendë leans back against one of the half empty crates and scratches the nervous horse beneath her chin. “Where are they today then?”

“Couldn’t tell you. Most aren’t as interested in forge work as their father, so may well be in other guild markets.”

“Seven of them, aren’t there?”

“Yeah, too many. Atya’s right when he says it isn’t natural.”

Rinwendë swallows and makes a noncommittal sound of agreement. “Which do you see the most around here?”

“Nelyafinwë, he has no particular craft that we can work out for he seems to browse everything on offer; and the second Curufinwë, for he seems to be a particularly acclaimed smith. We also see Kanafinwë, for we believe he makes his own instruments, and Turcafinwë, as he seems rather attached at the hip to Curufinwë.”

“Have you ever served any of them?”

Rinwilin laughs. “What’s with all these questions all of a sudden?”

“Just curious,” Rinwendë replies and turns her head from where the Prince Fëanáro is discussing prices a few shops over in hushed tones. “Well, these crates need unpacking. What was it we need on the front table?”

“We need more of the processed stuff out here. Which crate’s that in? I’ll take the rest out back.”

“Check the labels,” Rinwendë tells him, already elbow deep in the processed bars of silver and mithril to put out. “Amya’s organisation is beyond me.”

On his way to get the wheels for the heavy crate, Rinwilin pats her on the arm and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Be back in a minute,” he says and vanishes into the back.

2)

Fëanáro does not know his mother.

No, that’s a lie: he does know her, in the memory of her hair of spun silver and of her calloused weavers fingers and of a voice of power.

He knows her for he sees her in his dreams with the shuttle and loom, with that hair hanging in intricate braids down her back, pinned with his father’s crest; with those fingers working their nimble way through the threads, manipulating them into the right shapes; with that voice singing a song distantly, with words Fëanáro can never remember when he wakes to the sounds of the birds below his window.

There is not much left of Míriel Þerindë, since her exile back to the halls of Vairë from whence she had come, but Fëanáro prides himself in the scraps of her that he’s collected over the years.

He has a box his father gave him for his tenth begetting day that’s made of a deep red wood with a golden star embedded in the lid and edges of crimped gold.

“A present I made your mother,” he had said, sitting next to Fëanáro on his bed and tracing a melancholic finger over the symbol. “I kept it safe for you, when we put most of her things in storage-” when they had been burnt “-so I want you to have it.”

Fëanáro had stayed quiet a moment longer in the vain hope that his father might say something more, for hearing about his mother was a rare thing in this home, but Finwë had nothing else.

“Come down for breakfast when you are ready,” he had said instead and that had been that.

In that box, over the years, Fëanáro had come to gather things: an old, pearl necklace that had rolled between the floorboards in the drawing room; a scrap of fabric that had her initials sewn in sweeping Sarati and the embroidered edges of a bright constellation caught upon it; a few pages of designs in her swooping handwriting…

They all get locked away tight and hidden in the gap of his floorboards that sits just between his bed and his bookshelf, and – when Finwë is distant and Indis frowning and his little half-siblings have spent all day begging for attention – he gets out the last things he has of his mother and pretends that she is there, ready to pull him into a hug and say that yes, she understands what it feels like to be an outsider.

That yes, she knows what to do when the ugly thing inside rears it’s head and Fëanáro thinks he might be able to destroy this horrible life he’s been living.

+

Fëanáro knows his father.

No, that’s a lie: he doesn’t know him, not really.

The first ten years of Fëanáro’s life had been lonely. It had just been him and Finwë and the soul-crushing grief that permeated the palace, and that was a miserable way for a child to grow.

Sometimes Fëanáro wonders what it would be like to have happy, golden memories of being little.

But no, that’s unnecessarily cruel. Finwë loved Míriel – had given her a name, a ring and his whole heart – but it was a marriage that had been decreed unlawful and made worse when Fëanáro’s own birth had nearly killed her.

Her, a Maia of Vairë, almost killed.

So Finwë had had to clear any evidence of his love from his home and open it up to a woman he cared little for and who cared little for him in turn. Fëanáro had heard him and Indis discussing it, had heard how their marriage was little more a business arrangement than the true love that had been the centre of his parents marriage.

[stargatenerd]

Hello all, this is ostensibly my writing blog, though most of what you’ll find is things I’ve reblogged to use as references for writing or interesting ideas or pictures that I liked the vibes of. Things I post (both random thoughts as well as random snippets) will be tagged with “words from the nerd”, and posts regarding my various fics will be tagged with both the fic title and its abbreviation if it has one.

Feel free to ask me questions about my stories, but be polite.

List of things I’m working on under the cut, stories linked are to the versions of them on AO3 so you will need to be signed in to read them as I have them locked to registered users to prevent bot scraping. Please read the tags as some of these are fairly mature.

Current projects:

Shrinking Violets — MHA, Shinzawa-centric, omegaverse, underage arranged marriage (but nothing happens between them for a while) - feel free to ask me worldbuilding questions about this for my worldbuilding doc :3

Venus Conjunct Pluto in Scorpio — Hannibal/MHA fusion; ShinzawaMic with Hizashi as Hannibal, Shouta as Will, and Hitoshi as Abigail for a lovely little Murder Family <3 Very slow burn and does not stick to Hannibal canon except for some spots where it does. Can be read with little to no knowledge of Hannibal as a whole.

Color Seeping Through My Cracks — MHA, Yakuza soulmate AU, ShinzawaMic. Yakuza duo ShinMic find their soulmate in barista/waiter Aizawa and take in him and his totally legally adopted daughter.

Turning Tables — MHA, Shinzawa, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Seriously. Read the tags. Teen serial killer Shinsou gets kidnapped by more experienced (in every way) Aizawa.

In the drafting stage:

Parallelism — OC-centric, my Stargate OCs from SG-13 (Muki, Tyler, and Kira) get reincarnated in MHA and make friends. Worldbuilding abounds.

A sequel to Three Sheets to the Wind (in a bed for two) — MHA, genderbent Shinzawa, the morning after.

On the back burner (projects I intend to get to once I finish at least one of my current fics):

Schismatic — DCMK, originally KaiShin, now KaiShinHei. Set after Movie 13, my first attempt at writing dark!fic. A member of the Black Org finds out Conan is Shinichi and tries to protect him in dubious ways. Gotta figure out where I was going with the end of the plot (bc I have the middle plotted out) and write that.

Shadow Bride — RotG, BlackIce with genderbent Jack. AU where she and Pitch meet a couple hundred years ago and become friends, then eventually a couple. Finishing up the last few chapters.

A Wonderful World (of Magic) — Hetalia/HP, England becomes the History of Magic teacher during Harry’s sixth year, not HBP compliant. No longer write for either of these fandoms due to various reasons, but I have a rough outline of plot points and how it was going to end so I’m going to flesh that out for basically a summary draft of how the story ends.

SG-13 proper — Stargate SG-1/Atlantis, my OC team and their hijinks, mostly set during/on Atlantis. Might possibly rewrite it as a whole, might just write the parts that are vaguely referenced in Parallelism bc it’s changed plots so many times over the years with so many fandom crossovers and now I’ve swung back around to it being fully Stargate focused and all three of my characters have gone through a lot of development and I want to share that with everyone <3

On the counter, off to the side (who knows when this will happen):

The Universe of the Four Tanteis — DCMK/Fushigi Yuugi, members of the Fushigi Yuugi cast get reincarnated as DCMK characters. Gotta slap together a rough outline of where I remember the story going so I can post that and be done lol

In the Arms of Death — DCMK, veeery vaguely remember the plot I was going for with this one, I want to slap together an outline for readers and in case anyone wants to adopt it bc I think it’s a cool concept.

Hope’s Child — RotG/HP crossover, Bunnymund adopts Harry, JackBunny. I don’t write HP anymore but I have a sort of vague idea where everything was going for this fic so I might put together an outline for readers or just put it up for adoption ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Houseguest — RotG, pre-movie Tooth finds an injured Jack and takes him in. Apparently I started drafting a second chapter for this? Might finish it.

Stop Poking Logic-Shaped Holes in my School! — DCMK/HP, was pending a rewrite but since I no longer write HP I’m waffling on what to do with this. Pending decision.

A Beautiful Relationship — DCMK, KaiShin and HakuHei, a continuation years later from my oneshot A Beautiful Friendship. Might continue this, might post an outline; haven’t decided.

Love in G Major — Hetalia, USUK, PruCan, Giripan and a host of other ships, Nyotalia human high school AU. Had a vague idea of some plot points so might post that in case someone wants to adopt it.

Cardgate — YGO/Stargate crossover, I know I have like half a chapter in a notebook somewhere that I never posted, so I think I’ll finish that chapter and then post an outline lol

Relics of the Tau’ri — Hetalia/Stargate crossover, might post an outline of where the story was headed.

Magical Cicadas — Higurashi/HP crossover, Higurashi characters get reborn as HP characters. I have a chapter or two of this in a notebook somewhere that I’ll post once I find it.

[notchesandbullets]

A Soft Confession Draped in Ivory and Silk (Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Pro-Hero!Reader)

Warnings: cursing, sort of domestic fluff in the snippet of the future Bakugou sees with you, mentions of alcohol, Aged-Up!AU, suggestive themes, implied smut, mutual pining, there's a lot of fluff in this one.

Synopsis: It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated UA. This was supposed to be a trouble-free reunion, except your reservations got screwed up and now you have to room with someone else while you're staying for the entirety of the trip. The weird thing is, everyone seems to have some kind of excuse as to why they can't let you sleepover in their room for the night. So, you decide on Bakugou's, the only person who can't say no because he hasn't arrived yet. But your actions have consequences and now you need to deal with all the feelings that you've been frantically suppressing as they resurface.

Words: 19.2k

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" Bakugou seethed hotly, vastly annoyed with the sight that greeted him.

He had kicked open the door to his allocated hotel room, exhausted from the long drive and wanted nothing more than to flop on the comfy bed and just fall asleep but that couldn't happen if you were here.

Of course it had to be you. Of all the shitty extras, it had to be you.

Fuck.

Rolling your eyes at his angry exasperation, you continued stirring the pot on the stove without paying him any attention, which you knew irritated him greatly. Free hand planted idly on your hips, your brow scrunched up as you caught a whiff of burning potatoes and quickly turned off the fire.

Alright, so you weren't the best at cooking, but that wasn't going to stop you. A girl's gotta eat.

In hindsight, you could've just picked up some food on the way or been smart and packed a lunch before you left but in your defense, you were running late. You blamed being completely unprepared on Mina, who failed to inform you in time so you would have enough time to appropriately pack and not panic about seeing all your old classmates from your UA days.

By the time she told you of this little trip, you had exactly seven hours to get everything in order and head up north to the high-end hotel Iida and Yaoyorozu, the old class representative and executive officer, reserved for the group of 22.

They had decided to hold a reunion of some sorts since it had been a number of years since you guys all graduated. Really, you suspected it just to be an excuse for all of you to get drunk but you weren't complaining.

Hero work was taxing.

Even Aizawa, Present Mic, All Might and Midnight had come along for the weekend getaway. Though they were stuck in traffic and wouldn't make it until the next morning.

"The reservations got mixed up when Midoriya called in." You said over your shoulder to the grumpy man pouting in the corner, scooping out the soup in the pot into bowls and you ignored how Bakugou growled when the name of his rival passed through your lips. "It was either share a room with you or Mineta, so..."

Bakugou glowered at you from the other side of the room but he didn't argue. That little pervert might've grown up a bit since he actually transformed into a decent hero who was a feminist and advocated for women all the time instead of trying to touch them constantly without consent, but that didn't mean he wanted you to sleep in the same bed as the fucking grape head.

Weirdly enough, everyone you asked seemed to have an excuse as to why they couldn't let you sleep over with them for a night until the mistake was sorted out. The guys you could understand but the girls?

Something was kind of off there.

So then it was just down to Mineta, who was an absolute no in your book, and Bakugou, who was the only one who hadn't arrived yet.

Knowing that you'd be completely screwed over if he said no too, you made a choice, figuring he could kick you out if it really was too much of a bother.

At least the accommodations were nice.

The room was a luxurious suite, more than big enough to hold you both without getting in each other's way.

Rich, velvet curtains hung from the valances and a small crystal chandelier hung above the mahogany table. The kitchen was fully equipped with the latest line of appliances in Japan and stocked with utensils and stainless steel cookware. The room even came with French doors that separated the bedroom from the cozy living area and kitchen parts of the suite, giving it a secluded but romantic feel.

You ignored the latter portion of that vibe.

The two of you were friends at best and you were still wondering if you could even call him a close friend when most of your interactions happened on the job in joint operations that required both of your quirks.

It was hard to ever find to get out and see your friends, let alone even consider dating. You had given up that dream after some sleazebag tried to get into your pants after one date. When your team figured out he was after your fame, that put the nail in the coffin and you hadn't tried to see anyone else since then.

For a time there, you had thought you had some potential for a relationship with Shindou since the two of you held mutual attraction for each other but that was over when he started seeing one of his old classmates.

You were happy for the both of them but it didn't dull the ache in your heart for someone who understood the life that you lived.

And not in a platonic way.

Shindou being in a relationship honestly didn't come as a surprise to you, he had feelings for her since the provisional licensing exam and besides, your heart was set on someone else.

Someone you could never hope that they would return your feelings.

Breezing out of the kitchen with two portions in hand, you passed one to the grumpy ash-blond's way.

Bakugou scoffed haughtily as he left his luggage by the door and threw himself down into the sofa positioned behind the TV, completely ignoring your peace offering. "What the fuck makes you think I want to eat your shitty cooking?"

"Suit yourself."

You shrugged your shoulders and set it down on the coffee table, undeterred by his crude yet muffled language. Something things never changed, you could still read him like a book. His temper was all a front.

Had been since high school. Now you both were pros, constantly out on the streets and saving the day. It was rewarding work but it was also exhausting.

You couldn't put into words how much you were looking forward to this getaway trip, where you didn't have to worry about appearances or the media catching you off guard.

You don't know exactly how, but somehow Todoroki, Yaoyorozu and Iida managed to pay them off or something to get them to leave you alone for the blessed three days this reunion was going to span.

And you have to say, you had never been more grateful to have rich people as friends.

Leaving to go change so that you were ready for the dinner tonight with all of your old classmates while simultaneously chowing down on your delicious (somewhat burnt) food, the corner of your mouth quirked up in a smile as you heard the bowl scrap against the table as the grumpy hero begrudgingly pulled it toward him.

Unable to resist, you tossed a lighthearted jab over your shoulder without looking at him. "Aw, you do have a heart~"

"Fuck off, dumbass." Bakugou spat from around a mouthful of potato, yet making no move to set down the food you had spent so much time making before he arrived.

Even though it was a little overcooked, it tasted better than any of the shit he had been forcing himself to eat recently.

Being a pro was no fucking joke, not that he ever treated it like one before, but it sure as shit seemed a lot easier when they were students and had fucking adults to rely on.

It was still fucking weird to him to think of his old homeroom teacher as a colleague.

Bakugou lazed around for a couple hours after he finished eating your food. He wasn't ever going to admit it, but your home cooking hit the spot. His own cooking was still better but yours wasn't shit. At least, not compared to that fucking Dunce Face's.

He still remembered when you and Sato would make dinner back when they all lived in Heights Alliance. Of course, Emergency Exit had a fire extinguisher handy anytime you were in the kitchen because you had a habit of lighting things on fire.

A lot.

Flipping through the channels on the TV boredly, Bakugou blankly stared at the screen with moving pictures that he couldn't care less about as his mind wandered back to you.

When Kirishima first told him about the trip, he flat out declined coming with.

There was no fucking way he was going. Why the hell would he want to see all their annoying faces and shit?

At least, that was all that was running through his mind until the idiot slyly mentioned how you were going to be coming along.

Bakugou honestly didn't think you would be one for all this shit. According to his agent, you had been so swamped with work in your district that you hadn't been taking proper care of yourself. Not that he cared or anything.

But it was going to be a fucking inconvenience for him if you suddenly fainted on the job and was rushed to the hospital, leaving him to pick up all your damn slack.

Because your agencies were sort of near each other, he thought he couldn't take the time off if you were going, but his PR team had insisted, practically shoving him out the door so he could pack seven days early.

He had a sinking suspicion that his absence would allow them to curb the damage done after that stunt he pulled last month at the middle school they made him talk at.

It wasn't his fault!! Those damn kids had too many fucking questions!!

Alright, so that wasn't really it. He had overheard one of the teachers spewing shit about heroes and how useless they were so of course he was fucking angry. To have the fucking nerve to not even lower their voice in front of him was a trip but the last straw was when they carelessly brought up your name in the conversation, haughtily claiming that you didn't know how to do your job properly.

And he fucking lost it.

The entire security team had to pry him off of the wailing teacher when they arrived and once the facts were cleared up, no one could say that they really blamed him for reacting the way that he did but still, the press was going to have a field day when this got out.

Bakugou had clicked his tongue angrily and stormed the other way while the police got the situation sorted out.

He would own up to what he had done, he wasn't fucking afraid. He would kill them any day of the week.

But he halted in his tracks down the dreary and empty hallway when he saw a little boy sitting alone outside the classroom. He recognized him. He was inside during the meet-and-greet but the teacher that he had just got into a verbal battle with had sent him outside for some reason.

The child whimpered and curled into a tighter ball when he came closer and Bakugou cursed himself for not having the same calming effects on kids like Deku had.

"Oi, brat. What the hell are you doing sitting out here?" He asked abrasively, crouching down a little ways away to give him some space.

The kid sniffled loudly and raised his head, his eyes swollen and bloodshot from how hard he had been crying and Bakugou's heart twisted painfully.

"M-Mister?" He stammered out in a small voice. "Wha...?"

"You're crying."

Since no one else was around, Bakugou's guard dropped a fraction and his eyes softened slightly.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?"

After six minutes of the kid stuttering to find his voice in front of his idol, he managed to tell him a little bit.

And if Bakugou was mad before, he sure as hell was livid now.

Because this kid was being punished by his teacher and his peers for something he had no control over. His quirk.

His teacher hated him and would often send him outside because it would go off at random times and distract his classmates. And while everyone pointed fingers at him and laughed, he was left all alone to deal with a power that was too big for him to control.

Labeled a villain, he was cast out and even though the pro-hero could clearly see how kind his heart was just in the few minutes he'd interacted with him, no one else seemed to care enough to give him the time of day.

Bakugou offered out his hand and demanded that he get up. Timidly, the little kid did so, exclaiming out in surprise when he dragged him towards the direction of the classroom.

The hero could sense his rising fear and anxiety so he stopped just outside of the door where the police had been filing out of a minute ago and turned to him, squatting down to his level.

"Listen, brat." Bakugou barked out, but not unkindly. "Those extras don't mean a damn thing. You're fucking strong and you're going to be a great hero when you grow up."

He rapidly blinked his eyes and they sparkled. "Really?!"

Bakugou snorted. "Yup. Now, come on. It's storytime."

When he entered, he was disgusted to see how the teacher and the kids recoiled back from the boy hiding behind his legs. And while he couldn't necessarily fault the kids as much as their teacher because they were being taught that this little guy was a monster, to see a grown-adult grooming them to judge people like this was fucking wrong.

He would know.

Sitting down, he patted his thigh once to invite the little boy to take a seat on his lap. When the boy finally scrambled on and got comfortable, even though he was still clearly nervous about being in front of his class like this, Bakugou started his tale.

The few security officers who were standing by the teacher for safety should he launch at them again and his own agent were wary of his intentions, but all that diminished when he opened his mouth.

The calm hero told the wide-eyed kids how he was a bully to someone who had the true heart of what it took to be a hero and how he was able to grow by recognizing his mistakes and taking action. He told them that it was hard to change but that it was a good thing even though it felt weird and felt like the world was against him at times.

He told them that it didn't matter whether they had a strong quirk, a weak quirk or no quirk at all, at the end of the day, they were all the same: imperfect humans just trying to live and find happiness. And that everyone was deserving of respect.

Even the little boy they had casted out from their social circle.

Bakugou could see some things start to click in their minds and while he knew that most of this would fly over their heads for now since they weren't at an age where they had to think about all these things on the daily, he hoped that it would stick with them and come back to them when they needed it most.

The teacher's jaw had gone slack in shock and Bakugou glared at them, sending them one last pointed remark about how it was important to ensure the future generation had the tools they needed to thrive in this world and they gulped, averting their eyes as they were thoroughly intimidated by the way his burning eyes scorched into them.

Throwing his head back with a heavy sigh, Bakugou closed his eyes.

He needed this weekend to get the fuck away with everything that was wrong in this world and accept that he could only change the things he could control one at a time.

But patience was never his strong suit.

Growling, he pushed himself off of the too-comfortable couch and stormed his way to the front door to grab his luggage he had discarded to the side earlier before heading to the bedroom. He paused at the closed door for a second, briefly debating if he should knock or not but shook his head.

Fuck it. It's my fucking room.

He kicked open the door despite it being made of glass and he froze in place as his eyes landed on your form standing in front of the full-length mirror with your bare back to him.

Your eyes shining in the reflection of the polished mirror snapped to where his figure was still frozen in the doorway and you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to cover yourself up or anything.

It honestly wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, your hero costume had your back exposed all the time but you were damn annoyed that he had burst in when he did because he startled you and dropped the thing you had been playing with for a good half an hour now.

You were halfway to getting that tricky zipper to cooperate with you when he interrupted you. His timing literally could not be worse.

Sighing, you motioned him in, a bit confused why he cleared his throat and looked away from you as he set down his suitcase and strutted over without a fight.

"Make yourself useful and help me." You demanded with a slight pout. It was his fault the stupid thing was now all the way down again. Who made these things?!

You didn't have enough hands for this task.

In order to zip up the complicated dress, you needed to simultaneously hold together all the lace that crisscrossed near the neck while your other hand tried to wiggle up the zipper.

All while defying gravity and attempting not to twist your arms off.

Bakugou came to stand behind you and he exhaled frustratingly at the mess you made. The whole thing was tangled in the back, there were too many pieces for him to know what was supposed to go where.

"What the fuck did you even do, dumbass?" He muttered, more to himself than to you as he crossed over and pulled through the complicated design to get it to lay flat, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

You giggled, gathering your hair in one hand and sweeping it to one side so that it was off the nape of your neck and wouldn't get in the way.

You swallowed when his fingers brushed over your skin as he undid the damage you dealt to this fancy article of clothing and tried to ignore how your heart skipped a beat.

Honestly, you hated parties and fancy gatherings like the one tonight was going to be, but Mina and Ochako had begged you to wear something nice for at least one of the days, hence why you were now in this predicament.

Because you had absolutely no idea how to put on a dress this fancy.

Yaoyorozu had bought it for you last year when all of the girls from the former Class A and B went on a shopping spree, claiming it brought out your eyes and was such a perfect fit for you that you had to have it, regardless of how many zeros there were on the tag at the time of purchase.

You thought your eyes were going to fall out of your head the second she swiped her platinum credit card without so much as batting an eye.

You haven't gotten a chance to wear it yet. It really was a special occasions gown since it was floor-length and wouldn't be appropriate for any modern day clubs or work parties. So when the girls told you the dress code for this weekend, you were secretly a little excited, the inner child in you skipping around in circles at the notion of getting to play dress up.

According to Mina and Tsuyu, the ballroom that dinner was going to be served in tonight was supposed to be extravagant and you couldn't wait to see what it looked like.

The Solaria Hotel was one of Japan's finest and most exclusive establishments and had a five star rating from over hundreds of thousands of pro-heroes.

And you could certainly see why.

Just the size of the bedroom itself was already twice as big than your apartment that you rented out.

The king-sized bed was ridiculously huge and you were pretty sure the comforter was lined with genuine velvet. Silk sheets for the mattress and the pillow had your heart jumping for joy at how soft and silky it felt against your skin.

Aside from the bed, which also had a sheer white canopy draping down, the ceiling was ten feet high and rose petals were scattered around the huge room.

If you didn't know any better, you would think that this was a love hotel instead of one that they geared towards a resting spot for heroes. But you supposed you could understand why they had set it up the way they did.

Even heroes needed that kind of relief.

But luckily, the hotel business was slow this time of month and you didn't see many other guests when you came in, so the lack of bustle was a nice change of pace from your everyday hectic schedule.

Twisting around to see what was taking Bakugou so long to figure out the lace back, you yelped when he harshly pushed you back so that you were facing forwards.

"Hey!!" You protested indignantly and you swayed on your feet. It was a good thing you weren't wearing your heels yet.

He scoffed, deft fingers continuing to work at the knots as he repeated his earlier words. "What the fuck did you even do?"

"I didn't do anything!!"

This time, he snorted in disbelief. "Yeah right. This shit looks worse than Deku's hair."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?!" You shrieked.

After arguing back and forth for a few minutes, you began to grow anxious as the time started to tick by. You had to be down there for dinner in less than an hour and you even though you had already done your hair and makeup, mostly, you still weren't really prepared for this.

Crowds weren't your thing, which made being a pro hard sometimes, but the work you did was worth that particular downside.

Your eyes widened and you hopped in place when Bakugou finally zipped you up. Spinning around and being careful not to trip, you beamed at him as you threw your arms around his neck.

"Thank you!!!" You squealed gratefully.

He clicked his tongue and huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Get off me now, dumbass."

You clambered off of him albeit ungracefully since this gown was pretty heavy thanks to the many layers of fabric and you flailed your arms like a baby bird as you lost your balance.

Bakugou's hand shot out to catch you before you fell but before you could thank him, he was already turning away and going to his side of the room.

But tried as he might, he couldn't stop staring at you even as you turned away.

As soon as he collected his luggage once more and dragged it over to his side of the bed that wasn't claimed by you, his thoughts drifted back to you once again as you twirled in the mirror, giggling to yourself as you remained completely oblivious to the vermilion gaze burning into your back.

He swore in his head. It was much harder to stop them from going rampant with that intoxicating scent of banana and citrus that came from a specific kind of lotion he knew you always put on ever since he got it for you.

It was a gift for the last Christmas your class shared in your third year in high school. And the only reason he bought you that was because fucking Raccoon-Eyes thought it would be a good idea to put a limit on the gift giving since Iida had gone all out last year and nearly flooded Heights Alliance with an obscene amount of presents.

Shinsou might've had a hand in helping deliver them.

But of fucking course you would be wearing it right now. He could smell it so clearly, it was so fragrant it was making his head go foggy.

Bakugou tried to concentrate on something, anything really that would get his mind off of you but to no avail.

Everywhere he looked, there was evidence of you and your light.

Your clothes folded neatly in the walnut dresser on the top drawer, your books on the nightstand, even all those bottles on the vanity in the joined bathroom that was connected to the bedroom that he didn't really think was necessary unless you were trying to scrape off your skin.

In the small walk-in closet, if it could even be classified as such, was filled only with your empty luggage and the hanger in which probably hung up the dress to prevent it from wrinkling before you put it on.

And now that he wasn't fucking fighting a battle with your stubborn zipper, Bakugou really got a chance to take you in.

The layers of pale green chiffon flowed around your ankles when you moved. Paired with billowy sleeves made from that same sheer material, it made you look ethereal. The bodice flattered your figure and the sweetheart neckline skimmed just below your collar bones, making you appear soft and pure, like a fairy who could bend nature to her will with just a kiss.

The lace back was beautifully intricate and the golden zipper was barely noticeable when you let go of your hair.

It cascaded down, the soft curls brushing against your shoulders and a glass butterfly clip was nestled in your hair to keep most of it away from your face, save for a few curled strands that framed your face.

You were breathtaking.

You raised an eyebrow curiously when Bakugou suddenly started to cough violently and worried that he had somehow managed to choke on his own spit, you gathered up your skirts and rushed over to him.

You weren't insulted when he brushed you off, shouting at you that he was fucking fine, but you didn't push the issue.

He grabbed his things from his suitcase and stomped off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and you were left wondering what all of that was about.

Shrugging to yourself, you figured that he would either deal with it himself or go to Kirishima if and when he needed help.

Now, you were faced with a completely different dilemma.

There was about fifteen minutes before the scheduled time to report downstairs and you still needed to put on your shoes. But it was nearly impossible to see over the poofy skirts of this dress.

Groaning in frustration, you threw your hands down exasperatedly from trying to get it on for the fourth time. This was getting old.

Then, your whole face lit up when you got an idea.

Practically throwing yourself face-down on the bed, you squirmed and wiggled around on the king-sized bed until your back was flat against the cushiony mattress and you huffed, blowing the hair out of your face as you stuck your legs up in the air, grabbing for the shoes to put on as you bent your knees.

It was an awkward position as your skirt obeyed gravity but it worked.

Two minutes later you had both of the heels on the right way and did up the laces properly.

Inwardly, you were wondering why you were even bothering to teeter on these stilts for the entirety of the party but they completely the look. Besides, you were almost sure that you guys were going to take pictures later, even if Bakugou would only join you guys for one.

You hummed to yourself, standing up and smoothing out your skirt. You were in the middle of fixing your hair when the lock to the bathroom clicked and out stepped Bakugou.

Your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. Damn that man can clean up nice when he wasn't busy murdering villains.

A pressed suit adorned his broad frame and you had to swallow to stop yourself from drooling at how good he looked.

The suit was a classic black, with a crisp white shirt on the inside and his pants were clearly ironed before coming here. A red handkerchief peeked out from where it was tucked into his breast pocket and you swooned.

He had gotten everything right, right down to the shiny black dress shoes. You didn't know how it was possible to not have any wrinkles or a hair out of place as he slid up his embroidered tie with an irritated scowl, making the lapels lay flat with an aggressive swipe at the offending material.

You barely noticed his rising aggravation as they kept popping back up and he adjusted the cufflinks before jerking at the collar again.

"Here," You giggled. "Let me help."

Bakugou grumbled but lowered his hands and let you do as you pleased as you tucked it in further to get it to straighten out without popping back out.

"Thanks." He said gruffly and you flashed him a bright smile.

"Anytime!!"

Bakugou groaned quietly as you flounced out of the room. "You're too fucking cheerful."

You threw a charismatic smile his way as you skipped to the front door, making sure to grab your clutch on the way out. You didn't necessarily need your wallet tonight as you weren't planning on getting drunk but you weren't exactly comfortable leaving it in the hotel room.

Years of training had taught you that there were flaws in even the most advanced security systems.

"I didn't think you were going to dress up tonight." You commented casually as you waited for Bakugou to finish grabbing his wallet and phone before locking the door behind you two.

You were leaning against the glass barrier that surrounded the halls.

The Solaria Hotel was more than 100 floors, reminding you of the tower at I-Island that time you guys had to beat those villains to save the professor and restore order to the island. Bakugou's room was on the 80th floor, so you could see everything.

The layout of the circular building had basically ensured that it was hollowed out, rooms circled each floor and had an elevator on the north and south points of the building. In the empty space that you could see below as far as the eye could see, they had crystals suspended in the air that changed color periodically.

He scowled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he fell in step beside you and you tore away from your admiration of the ingenuity of the architecture.

"Shitty Hair made me fucking wear this shit." Bakugou said through clenched teeth as he recalled Kirishima begging him to wear it so they could match tonight. He wasn't going to cave but then fucking Raccoon-Eyes threatened not to feed him.

That wouldn't bother him except for the fact that he wouldn't be able to see you and all the shitty extras would be free to hit on you.

Not on his fucking watch.

Of course, this was decided before he knew you were going to be crashing in his room. He could cook for himself just fine, he didn't need to eat that overpriced shit that Ponytail Girl and Emergency Exit fucking paid for but now he was going anyways because there was no way in hell you were attending alone.

Covering your smile behind your hand, you teased that no matter what he said, he would do anything for Kirishima if he asked and Bakugou exploded at you, right there, in the middle of the hallway.

You shrieked as he launched himself at you and you ran for your life, panting hard as you reached the vacant elevators in the nick of time, frantically pushing the button to get it to close before Bakugou caught up.

Hope swelled in your chest when the doors started to close but it plummeted when a hand stopped it just before it shut completely.

Bakugou licked his lips as he pushed them back open and you backed into the corner to get as far away from him as possible as he advanced.

You gasped when his hands slammed on either side of your head, the soft ding of the elevator doors closing lost on both of you as his eyes bore into yours.

"Time to fucking pay, dumbass." He smirked, leaning in close.

You glanced over his shoulder, quickly concluding that you wouldn't reach the first floor for a good minute and decided you needed to come up with a distraction to ensure you would live to eat at least a morsel of the heavenly food that awaited you.

Bakugou's eyes flew open as you boldly took a step forward, pressing yourself against him and he swallowed hard when your finger teasingly trailed down from his shoulder to his chest. He swore that even though he was wearing two layers, he could feel your touch as though there were no clothes between you two.

The glass of the elevator was transparent and if anyone were looking closely enough, they would be able to see how he was pinning you to the wall with no space between the two of you.

"Aw~" You cooed, batting your lashes at him prettily. "That's such a shame... I was really looking forward to tonight."

He fucking knew you were toying with him, making it sound like a implication that you wanted him to take you back to his room but he fucking knew that you loved food more than any other shit so you had to be messing with him.

But it was pretty hard to believe when you looked up at him so innocently.

Bakugou's mouth pulled back in a heated snarl and it took everything in him not to close the distance and crash his lips onto yours, claiming you for himself tonight, tomorrow, and every other night that was to come.

Your expression cleared as the elevator came to a halt and Bakugou, who had been bracing himself over you, was thrown off balance.

"We're here!!" You announced excitedly, skipping past him for the second time that night.

He slapped a hand to his forehead and rushed out of the elevator into the lobby to catch up with you.

Fuck, what was wrong with him tonight?

The layout of the first five floors were a bit different than the residence area since those were designated for recreational activities and an extensive training gym.

The lobby was beautiful, even though you had skimmed by it earlier just to figure out where you were going to stay since the reservations had been messed up but now you got a good look at it.

A huge crystal chandelier sparkled from the ceiling and your heels clicked as you walked across the polished marble tile.

Everything was gold and white, clean and shining so bright that you could see your reflection in all the surfaces that you looked in. The golden edging along the wainscot and the Victorian details in the carvings along the panels of the ceiling were incredibly well done.

It branched off into several sections, the ambiguity of the lobby enabling them to have several private rooms covered with a heavy velvet curtain to maintain complete privacy.

The only thing that distinguished this floor from looking like a private establishment altogether was the very noticeable front desk in which the staff were stationed.

You were told that there was minimal staff to ensure the utmost respect and privacy but you were glad to see human faces as opposed to all the high-tech the hotel had ingrained into it to make the stay as pleasant as possible.

You didn't know why but it was nice to have a human touch in a world advancing so fast that artificial intelligence and robots were becoming more and more prevalent.

At least you could soak in that hot tub later to forget about anything and everything, relaxing in a blissful state until they kicked you out.

You could sort of recall Mina telling you about it over the phone but you were busy packing so you couldn't pay too much attention to her. But you were pretty sure she said something about a state-of-the-art pool and made another mental note to check it out later once you got out of this ridiculous getup.

Your confidence and schoolgirl excitement that came from dressing up dwindled bit by bit until you were left standing outside of the ballroom in a nervous wreck.

Judging by the music you could hear inside and all the lively chatter, most if not all were already there, and now you were having second thoughts as you anxiously played with your sleeves.

It wasn't that you didn't think you looked good, you really loved how you looked, it was just... you were feeling a bit self-conscious now that you were about to go in.

It was the same feeling that you had right before you had to try out for the hero agency of your dreams right after graduation. You were a bundle of nerves that day but at least then you could prove yourself by using your quirk to fight and take out bad guys.

You highly doubted that Yaoyorozu or Mina would be amused if you took on that same attitude and ripped the dress to shreds.

Regardless of the fact that it was expensive, you really wanted to follow through with this despite the anxiety you were feeling right now.

Bakugou hung back once he caught up to you, chest heaving slightly. You were faster than he remembered. But as he noticed that you were fighting with something internally, he arched an eyebrow and argued with himself about whether or not it was a good idea to ask what shit was stopping you from going in.

By the time he told himself to fuck off and just do it, you had straightened your shoulders and opened the doors yourself.

A wide grin split across his face and he shook his head, in a mixture of begrudging admiration and a hell of a lot of disbelief.

You were fucking strong. No doubt about that.

He knew how much shit you had been through in high school. Your social anxiety was no fucking joke, you had real reactions to situations that stressed you out, but you were dealing with it time and time again just to push through and do what you loved.

That wasn't to say that you didn't fail at times but he was so fucking proud of you for asking the shitheads for help when you needed it.

Because you deserved it.

None of them judged you for it. Hell, Shoji had anxiety just like you, Ponytail Girl still had issues with her self-esteem frequently when her ability as a hero was being called into question by the press who often brought up her revealing hero costume as though that was the only thing that defined her, Icyhot was still dealing with the aftermath of his own trauma when something triggered him and Deku wasn't perfect either.

Your class had been through everything together. You guys were each other's family and were there for each other. Always.

You guys trusted each other with your lives and it was safe to say that you would go to bat for any of the others should they ever be in danger.

Bakugou was broken out of his thoughts as an all-too-cheerful voice shattered his trance.

"Bakugou, lookin' sharp!!" Kirishima called out, cupping his hands over his mouth so that his voice carried further.

Unfortunately, it caused a lot of other people to look his way and Bakugou's face twisted into a scowl.

"Fuck off, Shitty Hair."

Kirishma laughed, the bright sound relaying just how much his language never bothered him and he skipped over to loop his arm through the grumpy ash-blond's.

"Aw, what's got you so angry?" Kirishima teased with a grin, coming around on his other side to sling his arm around his shoulders when Bakugou threw him off.

Bakugou scowled, refusing to reply and his best friend's grin grew.

"So..." He drew out smugly. "I see you arrived with Y/N. Does that mean you finally manned up and told her how you feel?"

You whipped your head around in shock, breaking off your conversation with Jirou when you heard the explosion, and fell into a fit of giggles as the smoke from Bakugou's quirk cleared. Iida and Midoriya were doing damage control to a pent-up Bakugou and Todoroki was standing off to the side for moral support.

As for Kirishima and Kaminari, who had happened to be on his way to greet the pomeranian when the explosion occurred, were slapping their thighs and howling obnoxiously, tears leaking out of their eyes from laughing so hard.

Yaoyorozu shook her head. It was too early in the night to deal with all of this.

She sighed, gracefully putting a hand over her heart. "It seems like Bakugou-san's temper has not changed."

You snickered along with Jirou, who was covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to stop the fit of uncontrollable laughter that had taken over her body when she saw Kaminari's hair sticking straight up due to the fire.

"Oh no, that definitely hasn't changed." You giggled, biting your lip to curb your smile when Bakugou glared at you as if he had heard you even though you were too far away to be within his earshot.

His vermilion eyes narrowed accusingly and you held up your hands in surrender, an innocent expression painted on your features.

Your giggle came out muffled when your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip and you ducked to hide behind Yaoyorozu when Bakugou started stomping over in your direction.

"Hide me!!" You yelped and Jirou rolled her eyes.

"He's already seen you." She pointed out, forgetting her earlier uncomfortability when you first sought her out upon your arrival.

The two of you tended to stick together for these kinds of things, since you both were equally out of your element when it came to formal wear and all things classified as girly.

And the dress code for tonight was a strict one. Girls had to wear dresses and guys a suit. The only exception was Shoji and that was only because no company could ever tailor a suit right to accommodate his dupi-arms.

You hunched down further, trying to make yourself smaller but it didn't do any good as a firm grip encircled your wrist and yanked you out from your terrible hiding place.

"I can still fucking see you." Bakugou seethed, sparks popping in the palms of his hands and you smiled nervously.

"Uh... Ah!! Wait—" Your objections were cut short when he dragged you away from the others. "Where are we going?!"

Yaoyorozu and Jirou exchanged a sympathetic look with each other.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Yaoyorozu asked softly, her eyes worried.

Todoroki appeared beside her and sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. "They will be fine but perhaps we should give them a minute so Bakugou can collect himself."

"Iida-kun, is dinner ready?" Midoriya asked to take the attention off the two of you as the prospect of food was brought up and the former class rep vigorously nodded.

"Affirmative!!" He shouted, thrusting his hand high in the air to gather everyone as his old classmates started to drift towards him. "Let us sit in groups of four to make it easy for the staff to clean up, Class A!!"

Kaminari elbowed Shinsou in the ribs, interrupting his conversation with Tsuyu. "Do we still have to do what he says even though he's not the boss of us anymore?"

Shinsou sighed, running his hands through his hair and Tsuyu had a suspicion that it wasn't the first time he had asked this. "Yes, Kaminari. Because if you don't, you probably won't get to eat."

Kaminari's jaw dropped all the way to the floor but he recovered in a second, racing to his seat.

Tsuyu tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully as she and Shinsou began to follow the overzealous blond to the tables that Iida was seating everyone at. "Do you really think Iida-chan would stop him?"

Shinsou chuckled, giving her one of his rare smiles as he pulled out the seat for her before sitting down himself at the table that held a fidgeting Kaminari and nervous-looking Kirishima.

Crooking a finger, he motioned her to come closer so he could whisper it without him hearing. "Nah, but it's fun to mess with him."

Tsuyu giggled, waving at Ochako and Mina from the other table since the six round tables were set up relatively close to each other in the huge ballroom, forming a circle.

They were currently towards the front where all the appetizers on tables lined with white cloth were served before the main course. Then, there was some kind of game set up on the adjacent side that looked like beer pong and the empty space at the back took up the majority of the ballroom was left alone as a dance floor for the upbeat music that would resume later on.

With a flick of her earphone jack, Jirou changed the playlist to classical and lowered the volume just as the food was coming out.

Mineta complained that the music was too slow and boring for his taste but he didn't argue anymore when Jirou silently threatened to electrocute him. Shoji coughed into his hand and grinned at the girl's spunk while Yaoyorozu just smiled.

Koda was signing to Aoyama. Even though he had gotten more comfortable talking with all of them, everyone's chatter was making it hard to hear, so as he relayed details about his latest mission, Ojiro was engaged in a discussion with Sato about whether or not food coloring was necessary in modern day society when more and more ingredients were being revealed to be unhealthy in nature.

Sero was trying to teach Hagakure how to fold a napkin into a swam while Todoroki and Tokoyami talked about the latest hero news after exchanging pleasantries.

And Midoriya, Ochako, Mina and Iida filled up table five. Which left just the one for the two who had yet to sit in their seats.

Iida shook with restraint before abruptly standing up to shout for you and Bakugou who were still talking in the far corner about something he couldn't hear but Midoriya caught his arm and eased him back down.

The food had just come out and it was hot. He had helped Iida order food for tonight so he knew it was going to be good.

Each table got five different kinds of entrées to share, hence why they could only fit four people at each table instead of five like Iida had initially planned since the piping hot food coming out from the kitchen was monstrous and would take up a ton of space.

Wagyu beef, fugu, kujira, basashi, otoro, fresh-steamed vegetables and even yubari melon for a refreshing taste was set down on gold-rimmed platters and left to be ravished by the hungry people eyeing it like some sort of animal.

Everyone was hungry, and Midoriya knew you wouldn't mind if you guys started ahead so he opened it up to his fellow heroes, and even though he knew Kacchan might say something about it later, he still clapped his hands together and dug in.

Some of them, like Kaminari, Aoyama and surprisingly Tsuyu followed his lead and tore in right away, while others like Tokoyami, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were too busy with their own conversations to be bothered with the food at the moment.

Kaminari stopped stuffing his mouth long enough to glance at Kirishima out of the corner of his eye.

"What's the matter?" He asked and with his cheeks stuffed full it was a little hard to hear him but Kirishima got his point.

His brow drew together worriedly. "They kind of look like they're arguing."

It was true. You did look like you were engaged in a heated spat with Bakugou, but Kirishima was way off.

Ten feet away, you planted your hands firmly on your hips and glared at him as your voice rose an octave. "Excuse me?!"

Bakugou barely stopped in time from snapping his teeth at you. At this point, he was going to rip out his hair if you didn't concede and admit that he was right. "You fucking heard me."

Your mouth pressed in a hard line. "I can't believe you would say that."

A beat of tense silence passed and then you exploded.

You threw up your hands in frustration. "Aizawa's would clearly beat All Might in a battle, he can erase his quirk for crying out loud!!"

"All Might was the Number 1 Hero." Bakugou ground out angrily through gritted teeth. "And he's as strong as shit even without his quirk."

"Not everything is about strength!!" You fired back but he wasn't done.

He continued to go on a rant just to prove to you that All Might would be the one to fucking beat your old homeroom teacher if they ever versed each other in a one on one battle.

How you got here, you had no idea.

It started with him dragging you away and before he spun you around and backed you into a corner, demanding to know just what was being said about him.

After dangling tease after tease at him, the stiffness in his shoulders wasn't lost on you and you told him flat out that you three had just been commenting on his temper when he looked your way, making the timing seem like he had heard you and you found it hilarious.

Bakugou's expression crumpled as he realized he had gotten it wrong and let insecurity get the best of him, to which his eyes shot open when he realized he had said that last part out loud.

You were faster than him though, as you reassured that it was okay to be feeling that way and apologized for teasing him before he could even say a word to amend his mistake.

It had then transitioned to him quietly asking why you stopped outside of the door before you went inside and you paused before hesitantly revealing that it was because you had a fleeting thought that you didn't actually look as good as you thought you did and he frowned.

Your eyes rounded as wide as saucers as he went off on you, fucking you over for thinking that and telling you straight up that you were fucking stunning.

It was doing bad things to your heart as it flopped pathetically in your rib cage and your hands automatically went up to cover your cheeks which you were sure were bright red.

Bakugou didn't touch you but his eyes scorched into you with such conviction that you eventually lowered them yourself and thanked him softly for saying that to you.

To which he scoffed and said it was obvious and that he'd have to be fucking blind not to see you.

Cue more blood rushing to your face.

From there, the conversation went from insecurities to a short story you brought up when Aizawa had helped you boost your self-confidence and Bakugou retorted with his own story of All Might when he stopped him from annihilating Deku in Ground Beta in your first year of high school.

Things only got more competitive as you shot back that Aizawa had helped him too on countless occasions, the hothead countering by bringing up the time All Might saved you single-handedly when you had gotten captured in a fight.

Knowing your hands were tied for that particular instance, you shifted it back to Aizawa's strengths and Bakugou retorted with All Might's own.

And that's where you ended up. Having a staring contest while the rest of your old classmates watched raptly from the sidelines and wondered just what had got you both so worked up.

"Admit your defeat, dumbass." Bakugou grinned cockily, sticking his face in yours. "And then you can fucking get your shit."

Your eyes flickered up to his since even though you were wearing heels, you were still shorter than him. A hint of mischief glimmered in your eyes as a smile played upon your lips.

"Actually, I think you lost this round, Boom Boy."

Before he got a chance to open his mouth and object to that ridiculous nickname you had given him from your youth, you ducked under his arm and made a break for it towards the tables.

"Fucking— GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!!" He yelled after you, breaking into a sprint but you were too far ahead of him.

You ducked behind Iida for protection and he stood up tall, unwavering as Bakugou skidded to a halt.

"Bakugou!! That's enough!!" Iida shouted, holding his hand out for him to stop as he tried to get around him.

The whole class watched and waited to see what he would do, slurping on food obnoxiously while they all waited.

"Tch." Bakugou smirked, grounding his fist into the palm of his hand as it lit up. "Is that a fucking challenge?!"

"NO!!!" Iida thundered, clearing his throat and repositioning his glasses as he collected himself. "Now, the two of you need to sit down and eat. We are behind schedule."

"There's a schedule?" You whispered to Bakugou as you crept out from behind the safety of Iida's back. "Did you know about this?"

He snorted, putting out his explosion with a huff. "Damn right."

You tilted your head but followed him obediently to the only available table piled high with food that had luckily not gone cold.

Bakugou hid a smile as he saw you wiggle in your seat out of the corner of his eye, clicking his tongue in annoyance when you happened to look his way.

Of fucking course you would still look so damn cute when you were excited.

Since he was fucking starving, he ate with gusto, but only after he made sure you were actually going to eat.

Due to the side effects of using your quirk, it sometimes made you nauseous and you have had trouble keeping food down ever since you threw up on the first day of school.

He knew that most heavily seasoned dishes you had more of a difficulty keeping down so he wasn't surprised when he saw you go for the soup out of all the things you could've picked from.

Lively conversation filled the air, gossip and talk about the latest modifications to your hero costumes all the rage as topics blended into everyone's tables since they were all in close proximity to one another.

At least, most of them.

Since you had come late to dinner, you had a gut feeling that your classmates all ganged up on you and Bakugou, shoving the two of you here together.

The girls knew of your crush on him. It came out one night when you guys were playing truth or dare, like everyone did back in the day, and Hagakure and Mina hadn't let you forget it since then.

But what you didn't know was that the same could be said for Bakugou.

Fucking Shitty Hair did this on purpose. Bakugou raged inwardly while you remained blissfully unaware of the rampage going on beneath the surface. I fucking knew it was a bad idea to tell him about it.

He had asked his best friend for advice on what to get you for your birthday when you were in your second year and to say the very least, it wasn't hard for Kirishima to piece it together.

Fucking hell. The shit he gave him for it made him instantly regret it and he stormed out with pink cheeks, determined to find you the perfect gift on his own, thinking that this year would finally be the year that you noticed him and saw him in the same light that he saw you in.

Nope.

You had gotten sick on your birthday and by the time you healed, your birthday had come and gone and nobody said anything about it so he never gave it to you, throwing it away after another week passed and it was clear he didn't have the courage to give it to you.

You looked up at him, mouth resembling a chipmunk's as you chewed on the food you had been looking forward to all day. "Whasthematferwifyu?"

Bakugou choked. "What the fuck?!"

When you opened your mouth to speak again, he snapped at you, "Fucking finish chewing or you'll choke, dumbass!!"

"You mean like you just did?" You asked cheekily as you swallowed and he glared at you.

"Shut the fuck up."

"M'kay~" You sang.

Banter between you two was few and far in between since you two had bickered already for a good portion of the evening. The fight was called a draw for the time being as it was put on pause to fill your bellies with good food and you had to say, you were glad you came.

Dinner wrapped up after another hour and one by one, everyone started to trickle onto the dance floor.

Everyone except for Bakugou, who was at the drinks table and glaring at each bottle of alcohol that he picked through, and you and Kirishima, who had halted you when you moved to join Ochako and Tsuyu, was breaking it down to Jirou's EDM music she put together for tonight.

Kaminari was already drunk. You didn't know how that was possible but based off of the way he was playing with Ojiro's tail, refusing to detach from it even after he politely asked him to let go, you could conclude as such pretty confidently.

You followed Kirishima curiously as he led you away from everyone else, interest piqued when he brought you to where the appetizers that were previously were being replaced with desserts and your confusion grew when he inched as far to the wall as he possibly could.

"Kiri?" You questioned. "Why are we—"

"Shh!!!" He shushed quickly, waving his hands frantically, his eyes darting everywhere as though he was about to tell you something that could land him in jail.

Or worse.

He motioned you to come closer so that nobody else would hear and you scooted towards him, until his mouth was right by your ear.

And then, your jaw dropped in shock.

"WHATTTTT?!?!" You shrieked and Kirishima hushed you hurriedly, smiling apologetically at a skeptical Bakugou who looked your way due to your volume.

You took a hint but your outrage didn't fade. "What the fuck, Kiri?! Why didn't you tell me this sooner?!"

Red Riot had just oh so kindly informed you that it was in fact, Bakugou's birthday.

Today.

If what he told you was the truth, which at this point you really didn't know, Mina, Sero and Kaminari were the only other ones who knew. You wouldn't put it past Midoriya to also be included in that group, seeing as how they were childhood friends who moved past their intense rivalry stage and developed a decent amount of healthy competition as pros.

But that still didn't explain why he was telling you this now.

Oh wait.

Shit.

If that was true, then you had barged into his room uninvited because you didn't want to sleep in the same room as Mineta, on his birthday.

You cursed yourself under your breath and without another word, you tore past Kirishima with a hurried apology and a half-assed excuse to pardon your abrupt exit and sprinted towards the elevators, your heart pounding. You didn't stop running until you reached the room, grabbing all your things and throwing them in your suitcase, thoughts running wild at how stupid you could be.

You hadn't even bothered to take off your dress before gathering your things hastily, you were that distracted.

As you stuffed the last of your things in your bag, you circled the room, realizing you now didn't know the next step to this plan of yours.

You really should've thought this through before you came upstairs and talked to one of the receptionists downstairs to see if another arrangement can be made. Or maybe you could persuade one of the girls to let you crash for one night until you could figure things out for the next day.

You were sure Yaoyorozu would concede if you begged hard enough.

But you didn't want to take a chance of Bakugou seeing you so you didn't linger in the lobby, which was in clear view of where the party was being held.

This was bad, you didn't have anywhere to go. You would need to go talk to someone for another room which means you have to go back downstairs.

Well, maybe not. Maybe you could call downstairs and have them—

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

You froze at the temperamental voice seething with fury and dropped the hotel phone you had grabbed in the heat of the moment, squeaking when you saw how livid Bakugou looked and tripped over your feet, falling backwards onto the bed.

Your body bounced as it hit the mattress and you covered your face as he strode toward you, and you bolted back up to your feet, mumbling through your fingers.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea it was your birthday today!!!" You squeaked, mortified you had been acting so casually on such an important day. You didn't even have a present for him and you gave him overcooked food after trampling on his privacy!!

Leaning against the doorway, Bakugou raised an eyebrow and scoffed irritably as he put the pieces together for himself. "Shitty Hair should've fucking kept his mouth shut."

"I didn't know!!" You cried out, mistaking his rage geared towards his best friend for barging in on his personal space even after he so clearly told you off when he first saw you. Like an idiot, you had thought that he really didn't mind.

Maybe you couldn't read him as well as you thought you could.

"I don't care." Bakugou snarled, annoyed that you didn't seem to get it after all this time as he stomped forward, closing the door behind him and clicking the lock with finality as you tried to scramble past him. "Where do you think you're going, shithead? I didn't say you could fucking leave."

You did a double take and blinked slowly, unsure you really heard him right. It was true you hadn't considered that a possibility, this was Bakugou you were talking about. He hated everybody.

Well, not really, but close enough to make it so that you were sure that he wanted his privacy.

Especially on his birthday.

"I-I—"

Bakugou rolled his eyes irritably. You didn't get it. Fucking fine.

Your eyes shot open as he smashed his lips onto yours but before you even had a chance to do anything about it, shove him off or pull him closer, though it was more likely the latter, he was gone.

Standing with an indifferent expression on his face, he loomed over you and your heart leapt in your throat.

"Holy— Is this real?" You asked breathlessly, fingers tentatively reaching out to run over his tie and make sure you weren't dreaming.

Bakugou smirked at the awe in your voice and it only grew bigger when he noticed how glassy your eyes looked. So he did have the same fucking effect on you that you did on him.

Good.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He declared, crowding you closer as he stepped forward, hot breath puffing out against your lips and you shivered.

You blinked slowly, looking up at him from under your lashes. "... And if I don't want you to?"

"Fuck—" Was all Bakugou got out before he was surging forward, grabbing your shoulders so you couldn't escape.

A muffled squeak tumbled from your lips before it was smothered and you gasped into his mouth as your knees hit the edge of the bed.

As you fell, Bakugou climbed onto the bed and pinned you to the mattress, never once breaking the kiss as he cushioned your fall. His hands fell to your waist as the other entwined in your hair and he let out a groan as you playfully nipped his bottom lip.

"Shit," He breathed when you broke away first, lungs burning with the need for oxygen but you had barely taken a breath when he tilted your jaw back towards him and connected your lips again, harder this time.

It was hot, too hot and he moved languidly in a way that contrasted so starkly with his short-tempered personality that it made your head spin.

"W-What?!" You exclaimed in shock as soon as he drew back to let you breathe, your hands covering your flushed cheeks despite the fact that he could still see you due to the proximity. "Where did that even come from?!"

You were all flustered now and your dress had slipped down a bit further, giving him a peek of what was to come if he didn't stop soon.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. If you didn't get it now, you were even more of an idiot than he thought.

"You can stay." He mumbled gruffly, dropping his gaze from yours.

It took a minute to understand what he was saying.

Coming to your senses, you grinned as you processed his words. He didn't say no outright to what you asked directly so you would take it. The hesitance had all been reduced to a trickle as it caused a hiccup in your thoughts but you tried to see it in a different light.

Maybe he really didn't mind, he wasn't one to lie, especially for no reason. Maybe he was feeling lonely and wanted company for tonight.

Maybe... he liked you too? Was that too far-fetched to believe?

"Really?" You smirked as you waggled your eyebrows at him. "You want someone to keep you warm tonight?

Bakugou flipped you off and you burst out laughing. Wiping tears from your eyes as you calmed down after a few moments, you grinned.

"I had no idea you could be so soft, Bakugou." You teased lightly.

He scowled angrily and sat up, folding his arms over his chest as he stared down at you. "Shut up, you don't make it fucking easy."

You were being such a fucking nuisance. He regretted saying anything in the first place. Who had so many questions after somebody kissed them?

Your eyes glinted mischievous. "Oh yeah?"

He did something you didn't expect.

"Yeah..." Bakugou trailed off quietly, something resembling fondness flickering in the depths of his vermilion eyes.

Your heart started to beat faster and you swallowed. His face was a millimeter away from yours and it was getting harder to breath. His body temperature was so high that you could feel the heat emitting from his form and engulfing you like a warm hug.

"When did it start?" You asked softly, curiosity winning out against the flutter of embarrassment you felt in your chest.

He didn't say it out loud but he didn't have to. You could see it in his eyes that same love that you held for him. How you went all this time without seeing it, you didn't know.

Bakugou's throat bobbed as he dodged your inquisitive gaze, his eyes only darting back to you when you sat upright and smoothed your dress as best as you possibly could to prevent it from wrinkling.

"I dunno." He mumbled quietly. "Since high school or some shit."

"High school?!" You shrieked in disbelief, nearly falling over as you realized it had started around the same time your feelings for him developed. You expected him to say within the last few months when you’ve been working together more frequently, not that he started liking you back at UA!!

He groaned at your grating volume against his ears. Too loud.

"Well hell if I know, shitty woman." He growled loudly. "I can't fucking remember everything."

You grin widened. "That sounds like denial~"

His mouth twisted back in an irritated frown. You were crazy. But somehow, that didn't put him off as much as he claimed to believe.

"It was after the training camp."

You bolted upright at that. You were not expecting him to say that.

After you two were stolen by the League right out from underneath your classmates' noses, you two were put in separate rooms until it was clear you refused to listen to what you had to say until you saw that Bakugou was okay.

He knew, the second they brought you in all chained to the chair and shit just like he was, that he was going to raise hell and murder every single last one of them.

He couldn't go ballistic yet, because as your tired but alert eyes met his from across the room, he knew that this setup increased your chances.

All you needed was an opening.

Shigaraki and Dabi had turned their attention on your first, trying to recruit you and you had tricked them, pretending to sympathize with their cause and got them to trust you by feeding Shigaraki's dark nature and Dabi's sadistic side.

You took their attention off of him and damn it, if it wasn't the bravest and baddest fucking move he'd ever seen.

The both of you had your own nightmares from that terrifying experience.

You couldn't stand to be restrained after that, even if it was only for a second, and Bakugou hated having anything touch his neck.

After he finished telling you all of that, you tackled him in a hug.

Bakugou's hand shot out to catch himself as the two of you toppled over before you crashed to the ground and he muttered a curse into your hair when you nuzzled into his chest.

"Dumbass." He remarked under his breath, hoping you couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding. "What about you?"

"Hmmm?" You hummed, momentarily forgetting what it was that you were talking about since all you could think about now was how his eyes shone with unshed tears as he relieved that terrible memory. But the fact that you were able to give him some small sense of comfort even though you were truthfully freaking out on the inside at the time, was the best thing he could've ever told you.

Well, right next to the depth of his feelings for you.

Bakugou scoffed and scooted forward so that the two of you were teetering on the edge of the mattress. A concussion was not how he wanted tonight to end.

"Tell me when all of your shitty feelings started." He demanded with a blush present on his cheeks and you bit your lip to contain a giggle.

Laying your head on his chest, you idly traced patterns on his shirt since he had shed it outer jacket. "I don't know exactly when it turned from a crush into actual love, but when you got hospitalized, I supposed I realized it then."

Bakugou jerked, stiffening as you mentioned the incident no one ever brought up.

Taking note of his reaction, you affirmed quietly. "We don't have to talk about it, but that's when it started. When I saw how close I could've been to losing you."

Bakugou's heavy breath eased up bit by bit as those words fell from your lips and he closed his eyes. He wasn't ready to talk about it now, but he thought that he would like to one day. If you were still by his side.

The next twenty minutes were spent entangled in each other's embrace as you two made up for lost time, talking about anything and everything came to mind.

Your old infatuation with Shindou that was short-lived because of your feelings for him and Bakugou couldn't help gloating that you were his even then.

How much he longed that he had confessed sooner. Maybe then you would've had those years together.

But he didn't dwell on it, he knew that it would become one of his demons if he lived in the past instead of the present and instead focused on combing his fingers through your hair, reveling in your closeness.

He hummed lowly as he caught a whiff of your fragrance. "Banana and citrus, huh?"

You beamed up at him, twisting around to look at him properly. "You gave it to me!!"

Bakugou smirked, hooking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Damn right I did."

After realizing that the two of you couldn't cuddle forever in your formal wear, you reluctantly untangled from him and started to take off your dress, only to find out that you couldn't do that without his help.

Your breath caught in your throat when he came to stand right behind you, just like before, only this time he was much closer to you, fingertips ghosting over your bare skin in the zipper's wake as he trailed light kisses down your back until he reached the curve of the small of your back.

You whined when he stopped and a smirk curved against the juncture where your shoulder met your neck and you swatted at him playfully.

Bakugou made you sit down so he could take your shoes off before you fell and broke something.

You pouted but did as you were told, quite liking how his calloused hands skimmed over your shins and ankles, and you gasped when he pressed a chaste kiss to your knee.

"Stop teasing me." You whined and he flashed you a grin, tossing your shoes somewhere else.

Bakugou relished in your flustered state, loving how he could make you like this with barely any effort. "It's your fucking turn now, shithead."

"Hey!!"

It was only until after Bakugou had gotten dressed in comfy clothes of his choice, a pair of sweatpants and a tight-fitted long sleeve that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, did you realize it was getting colder and colder by the minute.

The heater was broken and after multiple attempts of tinkering with the settings to get it to start, Bakugou was about to set the thing on fire, but you stopped him just in time.

"Shitty heater." He muttered frustratingly, his palms still popping with sparks. "Fucking five stars my ass."

He threw a tantrum for another minute before giving up, not even bothering to call downstairs to get them to fix it because he didn't want anyone in his 'personal space'. Oddly enough, you felt kind of happy that he was letting you in his personal space without any a fight.

You giggled and he raised an eyebrow at you after throwing you his hoodie, begrudgingly, but he still did it so you weren't complaining about the temperature. "It's just, I never imagined you'd be the one to confess."

He turned to you, a mix of irritation and poorly suppressed puzzlement on his face. "Hah?"

You bit back a smile at his tamed reaction. How cute.

"It's just in all the scenarios in my head," You drew your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top. "I was always the one confessing to you and then getting rejected."

Bakugou scoffed, stomping over to you with a slight pout that would've been unnoticeable if the light was any dimmer. The curtains had been drawn, basking the room in a warm glow that came from the fairy lights strung around the room that had you failed to notice earlier.

"Yeah, well, now fucking look what happened." He grumbled, flicking a piece of lint off your head. "You invaded my room like a cockroach or some shit."

You were sitting upright against the headboard on top of the velvet comforter without a care in the world as your sweater paws flapped playfully. In such a high-end hotel room, the two of you in casual attire looked sorely out of place but it didn't matter.

You were happier than ever before.

"Uh, excuse me, I take offense to that analogy." You teased back with a cheeky grin, shoving his shoulder when he crawled on the bed with you, abandoning his quest to fix the heater. "And I do recall mentioning how it was either this or Mineta's room, so it's not my fault."

Bakugou's mouth twisted into a scowl as you said the pervert's name and he huffed before looping his arms around your waist and laying flat on your legs. His head buried into your stomach, your eyes softened and you brushed the hair back from his eyes, his eyelids closing at the soothing sensation of you carding your fingers through his hair.

You hummed to yourself as he started drifting off. "Soft..."

"Fuck off." He mumbled into your waist but there was none of the usual venom to it.

Your chest shook with laughter at his unusual response but when you moved to stop just like he had ordered, he caught your wrist. You raised an eyebrow as he looked away from you, the red tint adorning his cheeks giving away what he wanted you to do and without a word, you obliged without so much as a hidden smile.

Bakugou sank into you, his broad shoulders going lax as all the tension melted from his body and he sighed peacefully. He hated socializing. The only good part of that reunion Raccoon-Eyes had coordinated was seeing you all dressed up.

He didn't tell you at the time, he honestly couldn't say it. He was fucking speechless the second you stepped out of the room.

But you looked like a vision underneath those flashy lights that hurt his eyes in the ballroom. You were absolutely stunning and put all of those other extras to shame. He didn't even spew an insult he was going to when he overheard Raccoon-Eyes squeal and proclaim how gorgeous you looked because she wasn't wrong.

You were beautiful. And way out of his league.

It was all he could think about all the way down the elevator and into the party, even after you broke off from him. At least, it was all he could think about until Dunce Face decided to make a move on you, being all suave and slick.

At the time, he was ready to storm over there and break it up until you laughed at something Kaminari said and he was painfully reminded of how you weren't his.

He then proceeded to drown all of his sorrows at the bar but cursed his inability to get shit-faced due to his high tolerance.

Exploding in a fit of rage over the culmination of how dazzling you were, how some guy was probably going to get lucky tonight and it wasn't going to be him, and how fucked up the situation was that you were going to be staying with him while he had a raging boner for you 24/7, he stalked upstairs to go pout in the corner only to find you stammering out apologies and packing your suitcase.

He vaguely remembered something about you saying something about his birthday and that's when he snapped.

To put it bluntly, he had never been a fan of celebrating useless holidays. People ate food and used it as an excuse to all gather in one place and socialize with all their fake friends, he hated scenes like that.

Which is why he was against this reunion at first but something in the back of his mind convinced him to come. Something that said that if he showed up, there was a good chance that you would be here too and it would make all of this worth it.

And that was only confirmed when Kirishima slipped that little tidbit of information in his invitation via text.

Bakugou couldn't believe his luck when he walked into his hotel room and you were standing right there. There was something so soft, so domestic about it that had him dropping his bag instantaneously and he fought to rein in his instincts to stride over to you and hug you from behind. He would rest his chin on your shoulder and ask what you were cooking, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as he hinted at what he wanted to do before the kids came home.

That was the type of future he had always envisioned with you. The one he always thought would be unobtainable. The one that he constantly dreamed about anytime he got a break from the nightmares and darkness that plagued his thoughts constantly.

And now you were all his. All of that was suddenly possible. He had a chance with the best thing that ever walked into his life and he wasn't going to screw it up.

Realistically, and he was a very realistic person despite being short-tempered, he knew he was getting ahead of himself. Take it slow, he had to tell himself to take it slow.

You hummed, bringing him back down to reality. "Where's that head of yours at?"

"Fuck off and die."

But his threat came out muffled as his face was currently nuzzled into your stomach and you couldn't stop the fit of laughter that burst out as you giggled uncontrollably, laughing even harder when he looked up to glare at you, only for his eyes to be so glazed over from how relaxed he was that you would've mistaken it for subspace if not for his mouth twitching irritably.

"Aw, is baby maybe a little comfy?"

He hissed and untangled himself from you, pouting like a little kid as he created some distance between you two. "I'm not a fucking baby."

You cooed and pinched his cheeks, pulling them apart slightly and giggled at how squishy he looked in that moment. "Dummy."

Bakugou snorted arrogantly but didn't shove you off despite his hard glare. "The only dumbass here is you."

"I didn't say dumbass, I said dummy." You corrected matter-of-factly. "And besides, it's a term of endearment, Katsuki."

He rolled his eyes but his heart trembled dangerously as he heard his given name fall from your lips so sweetly for the first time. He would never get tired of hearing that.

Bakugou cleared his throat and removed your hands from his face, your forlorn pout not passing by unnoticed.

"Fucking idiot." He mumbled under his breath, bringing a hand up to rest it on your head briefly as he leaned his forehead against yours for a second.

You grinned, a full-blown smile that caused his heart to skip a beat at how radiant you were. And then, he got an idea.

But you were surprised when he suddenly got up and tilted your head curiously when he exited the room.

Unlike before when you were so quick to jump to a conclusion, you assumed he had a reason for leaving so abruptly without explanation.

The gears turned in your head as you followed him out, bringing the blanket with for good measure because you were freezing. Until the maintenance could get here, you would have to deal with the chill. Apparently this was an issue that didn't just pertain to you.

Todoroki had texted you and said he was having issues with his too, along with some others who had filed out from the ballroom to crash in their own rooms for the night.

But waiting wasn't too hard. Perhaps you could persuade your new boyfriend to cuddle you.

You poked your head around the corner, growing even more puzzled as Bakugou stomped around, grabbing his keys first before hunting for something else.

"What are you doing?" You asked, unable to quell your curiosity and bewilderment.

He threw an embellished pillow back down on the couch as soon as he checked under it. "I don't know where I put my fucking wallet."

You laughed at his grumble and patted his chest with a wink. "Wait here."

Bakugou eyed you suspiciously as burrito-you darted off back towards the bedroom but his expression cleared up when you came racing back with the slim wallet in your hand, thankfully leaving behind the blanket as you caught onto what he was doing. He took it silently, frustrated with himself for not checking his coat pocket first to save him of this embarrassment.

"Thank you." He mumbled as he turned away. He felt like he was ten again, that's how damn shy he was when it came to you.

A broad grin spread from ear to ear on your face.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked cheekily and he scowled.

"I didn't fucking say anything!!" He exploded, grabbing your wrist and stomping towards the door. "Hurry up, we're leaving."

"Eh?!" You protested but didn't fight him. "Where are we going?"

You were only wearing shorts and his hoodie over your thickest thermal. Since it was warm outside, you hadn't bothered to pack any extra layer and you shivered as a chill ran down your spine. Yup, definitely couldn't wait to go back outside.

"None of your damn business." Bakugou spat as he dragged you out of the room and locked the door.

You continued to pepper him with questions, increasing your pitch when you saw how his nose twitched every single time you annoyed him.

Adorable.

By the time you got back down to the first floor, you were clinging to his arm, teeth chattering from the air conditioning, and he was facing away from you in a manner that clearly stated he regretted bringing you along.

"You love me~" You teased.

"Shut the fuck up. Like hell anyone would like a dumbass like you." He seethed but still didn't pry you off despite him claiming all those things.

You giggled, skipping on ahead. Once you got outside, you spun around on your heel, jutting out your hip. The warmth of the night air was refreshing and you took in a deep breath, smiling widely.

"Where are we going?!" You asked excitedly, trailing behind him as he started walking away, catching up and almost tripping in the process.

Bakugou caught your arm in a flash as you tipped forward, an angry frown etched on his face but you merely beamed at him and thanked him for catching you.

He turned away with a scoff but grabbed your hand to make sure it didn't happen again. "You're fucking clumsy."

Your smile widened as you detected the tiniest bit of worry underlying his sharp tone and you squeezed his hand, heart skipping a beat when he tucked you underneath his arm.

For safety purposes, you assumed.

You snuggled into his side with a blissful sigh. He was so much warmer than you were, it felt so good.

Bakugou spared you a glance out of the corner of his eye and his chest swelled with pride at the eyes that turned, undoubtedly seeing how unashamed you were to be with him. Holy All Might, you were perfect.

The Solaria Hotel was only a five minute walk away from Lunchrush's Grocery Store, a rather huge chain store that had establishments all over Japan, owned by the hero himself. The same hero whose delicious cooking you guys had lived off of for a blessed three years.

"What are we doing here?" You quipped as your eyes widened the moment you strolled in and took in the vibrant colors of all the produce and many packages that lined the shelves.

"I'm not paying shit for that overpriced room service." Bakugou stated flatly as he tossed you a bundle of carrots he just selected.

Your eyes widened as you quickly caught on. "We're going to be cooking?!"

He snorted, sifting through the produce section to find what he was looking for, weeding out the ones that were no good. "No shit, dumbass."

"Hey!!" You protested but carried on without complaint.

The kitchen in your room was fully equipped with all the amenities. Top of the grade appliances and sterling silverware made you feel like you were going to break something initially but that faded pretty fast as your excitement won over. The only thing it was missing was the food.

You had bought ingredients to make a simple stew on the way to the hotel and stored the leftovers in the large fridge.

The Solaria Hotel did offer pre-organized food boxes that came with various delicious ingredients to make it easy on whoever bought it but they were outrageously priced. Hence why you were now browsing the aisles with a disgruntled Bakugou instead of just purchasing one of those.

But you were definitely not going to complain. One of those boxes could drain your entire month's rent in one go and you were told that the portion sizes weren't very big either.

Definitely not worth it.

You would think that since he was the one to bring you here, he would be more enthusiastic, but no. He was more interested in having a staring contest with the brat at the end of the aisle who was making faces at him as soon as he grabbed the last of the things he needed.

You tugged on his arms, trying and failing to get him to break eye contact with the little boy he was glaring to death.

"Katsuki, c'mon," You begged, losing a battle against that ridiculously fit physique of his. You guys were attracting all kinds of unwanted attention from other shoppers and the mom of the little boy was getting a little curious as to the silent competition going on. "Let's just go."

"No way." He gritted out, never once looking away. "This damn brat needs to learn his f—"

He didn't get to finish the rest of his sentence as you forcibly dragged him away to the cash registers. You shook your head as he scowled and crossed his arms stubbornly. He was such a child sometimes.

Bakugou was so busy pouting that you had dragged him away and made him lose by default that he didn't notice you were already paying for the groceries.

"Oi." He barked at you as you hustled outside with the sky painted dark as night. Only the street lamps and lights hitched up outside the strip mall illuminated the area. "Oi!!"

You flashed him a grin. "Yes, Katsuki?"

He rolled his eyes at the innocent lilt in your voice, acting as if you didn't know exactly what you did. You weren't supposed to pay for anything, he was supposed to be treating you.

"But it's your birthday~" You sang. "And I wanted to!!"

"Tch." He whipped his head around, dodging you as you followed him around playfully.

You were like a dog and he was the bone. He wasn't sure he liked that analogy as much as what it implied.

As soon as you pushed through the grand doors of the lavish hotel, you bumped into someone and sent them crashing to the ground.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry— Wait," You gawked in astonishment at the wasted man before you. "Kirishima?!"

He groaned and rubbed his head. He was sent sprawling after you bumped into him, catching the attention of Mina who was strolling by with a half-conscious Sero on her arm.

"Kirishima, what are you doing?!" Mina exclaimed as she bounded over just as you were helping him up after setting Sero down and making sure that he wasn't going to move. She looked the most awake out of all of them. "Don't run off ahead like that!!"

Bakugou didn't do a thing, choosing to only tap his foot impatiently while he waited for you to be done attending to his shitty best friend.

"L/N!!" He slurred and it was then that you realized he was more than a bit tipsy. "I'm soooooo sorry for not telling you about Bakugou's birthday earlier, it was totally my bad."

You raised an eyebrow at hearing him speak in such an unusual way. Alcohol certainly did things to the brain.

Kirishima clapped his hand on your shoulder, ignoring Sero's whining for him to come back as he peeled Mina away from you three, telling her that he was fine.

Lowering his voice, Kirishima wiggled his eyebrows at you comically and caused you to giggle.

"So... how did Bakugou react when ya told him?" He asked in a whisper that was a lot louder than his drunken mind probably intended.

You flushed as Bakugou's inquisitive gaze fixated on you.

"I'm right here, Shitty Hair." He droned, completely uninterested in the way that this conversation was going.

Kirishima's head snapped up at hearing his voice for the first time and though his dilated pupils had a hard time focusing, he eventually managed to do it and a wide, toothy grin spread from ear to ear.

"Bakubro!!" He drunkenly cheered, throwing his arms out and running towards him.

Bakugou scowled, shoving him away as he went to hug him. "Don't fucking call me that."

Kirishima pouted and whined sadly.

"Awwww but you call me Weird Hair all the time." He complained.

Bakugou grinned. "That's because your hair is a shitty color."

"Hey!!" Kirishima's eyes watered and his lower lip trembled. He burst into tears, clinging to you as you drifted back to Bakugou's side.

Mina's golden irises glinted. "Sooooo, does this mean you guys are together?"

You blushed at the brazen implication and sheepishly nodded, unsure of what else to do.

Bakugou stepped in. He slung his arm around your shoulder, uncaring that he now had a much larger audience now that Midoriya, Iida, Ochako, Tsuyu, Shinsou and Shoji decided to venture outside, others coming out in a steady trickle as the night wrapped up.

You huddled closer to his side, hiding your face in his shoulder, growing nervous at all your friends gathering for reasons you'd rather not voice. You weren't sure how Bakugou would take this, if he would deny you in front of all of them.

He didn't seem like the type but a previous ex had been ashamed of you before so now you were wary. Rightfully so, the guy was a complete prick.

You hadn't dated for very long but it was impactful. The guy hadn't gotten close to your heart but the fact that he wasn't big on physical affection and never wanted to hold your hand in public sent the message that he didn't want to be seen with you.

That had never really sat well with you.

You didn't mind at first. After all, you understood that people had different love languages but he put in absolutely no effort to understand yours. But after a while, it was tiring contributing to a relationship that wasn't reciprocated.

You glanced up at Bakugou as he pulled you in tighter to his side.

"Listen up." He stated roughly, making sure everyone was paying attention. "She's my girl now, so don't you extras try any shit."

Bakugou practically smirked proudly as he stared pointedly at a sheepish-looking Kaminari hiding behind an indifferent Jirou. He was rubbing it in his face for the balls he had to flirt with you earlier.

But that didn't make his declaration any less true or genuine. He was proud to have you by his side, even now more than ever as the two of you explored this new part of your life together.

Hagakure and Ochako squealed at his declaration of love and if it was possible, you reddened even further. But you couldn't kid anyone. You felt like you were flying.

Hiding your face in your hands, your embarrassment came out muffled. "Katsuki..."

He snorted at your shyness, then steered you towards the elevators with you tucked under his arm without so much as a wave of farewell to your friends. He saw your knees knocking together, he knew you were fucking cold, so time to go.

You wiggled, shooting the girls an apologetic smile and laughed loudly as Sero and Kaminari obnoxiously whooped and hollered after you two.

Bakugou flipped them the bird, hiding a proud smile when their drunken cheers only grew louder as Kirishima and Shinsou joined in.

"Oi." He poked you cheek as you didn't lift your face away from your new hiding spot to spare you of any more mortification. "Wake the fuck up, shithead."

A cheeky mumble emerged from where your cheek was ordered up against his shirt. "Is that any way to treat your girlfriend?"

"It is when you're being a dumbass." He retorted flatly.

"Hey!!" You cried out indignantly.

You rode the elevator up, squabbling incessantly the entire way there, drawing odd looks from a few of the other guests that you passed but that paled in comparison to your wide smiles and the satisfied smirk permanently plastered on Bakugou's face.

You were having way too much fun to care about anything else.

Once you made it back to your room successfully, you got to work right away.

Giddy over the fact that he had shown you off and high on the endorphins him claiming you in front of all your friends and fellow colleagues brought you had made you extremely hungry. Keeping up with all of Bakugou's newfound love that he was expressing had zapped your energy far more than you were willing to admit.

"Oi, you're shit at cooking." Bakugou said after a minute of watching you wreck everything in the kitchen.

"Don't yell at me!! I already know I suck at it!!" You whined childishly, throwing up the spatula in frustration.

Bakugou chuckled, plucking the wretched thing from your fingers and took over. You had managed to make soup earlier and not burn down the place in the process so he wasn't sure why stirring the pot was now such a big deal.

But he shook his head as he caught the glint of mischief in your eye. He knew that look. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Fuck, he was screwed. He never should've told you how long he had pined after you. But it was no use, he was too weak for you.

You balked at the soft expression on his face. He had never looked at you like that before.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were blurting out how him declaring that in front of all of your friends had made you so happy and at the downward curve of displeasure on Bakugou's face, you elaborated that you had someone who didn't make you feel very loved in the past.

You weren't sure why you were telling him this. It wasn't like it was exactly easy to say all of this out loud but after years of knowing him, you knew he was the last person who would judge you for feeling the way you were feeling.

So you spilled it all.

You squeaked in surprise as he caught you off guard once you finished, crushing you to his chest. Your hands lifted up and automatically looped around his neck, stumbling a bit as he backed you up against the counter.

"Katsuki?!" You exclaimed in astonishment at the sudden display of affection from the normally so standoffish guy.

"I will never be ashamed of you. You're stuck with me for fucking forever and I'll kill you if you say any other shit." Bakugou muttered into the crook of your neck.

You were moved at his expression of the feelings he had for you and clutched onto the back of his shirt, hugging him tight.

He stayed there, in the same position, pinning you to the counter of the kitchen in the hotel room you had come to share and embraced you until you peeled away.

Bakugou's eyes softened when you looked away from him and sniffled. It could be classified as very unladylike, the way you wiped your nose with the back of your hand, but he didn't give a damn.

You were his.

After all these years of pining after you, thinking that he would never be enough to have you, thinking that he would never amount to someone who deserved you, you were finally his.

His heart was going to explode but if he let that happen, he would have to deal with Shitty Hair, Dunce Face, Raccoon-Eyes and Flat Face for the rest of his fucking life and like hell he would put up with those irritating extras.

Even if they did kind of manage to bring you two together.

The table for two at dinner, your messed up reservation that left you without a place to crash and that dress Ponytail Girl had bought for you, it all added up. They had been planning this for years since they knew of the feelings you both held for each other.

All you needed was a push.

Whatever. There was no way he was going to give them credit for this. They would probably use it as blackmail at some point and he was not going to tolerate that.

He quickly finished up the home cooked meal, flipping open the cap to the soy sauce you bought and drizzled it on top, adding a few drops of sesame oil to complete it and shoved a plate in your direction to bring into the bedroom while he quickly did the dishes.

The midnight moon's light spilled into the room as you danced around Bakugou, carrying two plates full of warm food to the bed after you were done goofing around and pretending to drop them. Sheer silk curtains hanging from the canopy of the bed swished in your wake as you breezed by to open the french doors, setting the plates down on his nightstand before gliding across the balcony that you had missed upon your initial exploration of the room.

This place was so big, you wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of secret passageway in the closet that led to the other rooms.

The night air was pleasant and a welcome change of temperature as it soothed your chilly skin.

You smiled to yourself as Bakugou came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply. His heat encompassed you as he hugged you from behind and lightly kissed the spot just below your ear.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation and gasped when he pinched your side in retaliation.

"Katsuki~"

His given name still felt foreign on your tongue but you'd be damned if you didn't get used to it with the flustered reaction he never failed to give you.

"Don't fucking start with me, dumbass." He smirked, growling lowly. "I don't have a fucking problem with putting you in your place."

You cocked your head to the side, playing dumb, pretending you didn't know what that insinuation meant. "Oh?"

Bakugou groaned as the mood suddenly vanished. "Piss off."

Bakugou cracked a smile though when your easy laughter rang out. Yeah, it wasn't fair that he was left in a now uncomfortable situation but it was worth it to endure if he could hear that sound again.

Fuck, you were so precious.

The late night room service dished out by yours truly was served on the bed while you giggled underneath the covers, hiding from him and shrieking when he found you.

It was warm and fuzzy, the atmosphere easy and relaxed as you cuddled up to him and ate the food he made for you specifically so that it wouldn't make your stomach hurt.

Initially, he had declared that eating on the bed was going to be fucking dirty and messy if you spilled anything, which he was almost 100% sure you would, but gave into you when you transfixed your wide eyes on him, pleading for this one thing.

The two of you didn't look at each other while you ate, you didn't need to. The stolen glances between bites of food were enough as you shared idly and informal conversation to get to know each other better now that your feelings had been aired and returned by the other.

The quiet confession that rang out from you both was almost tear-jerking as he confessed he never thought he would get a chance to be with someone like you and you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, telling him that he deserved the world and more, and if one day you could give it to him, you would.

The heater had yet to be fixed but that didn't bother him anymore as he used the opportunity to gather you in his arms and hug you tight.

Yeah, you two needed to make up for lost time but for now, he was more than content to just let it be. Tangled with you, under the moon and the stars as he kissed you, he swore that he would never stop fighting for you, to protect you always and cherish you with all that he fucking had.

Because Bakugou Katsuki, the man who didn't need anything or anyone to go up against the toughest villains to date, fell to pieces when it came to you.

Bonus:

"I still can't believe you told me that so late. I could've gotten him a gift!!" You complained to Kirishima on the second day when he was hungover and groaning, throwing pillows at you to get you out of his room.

You managed to dodge every last one.

"I mean, I don't get it." You tapped a finger to your chin coyly as you smoothly sidestepped and twirled around two more he launched in your direction. He was going to run out of ammo at this point. "Why tell me so late? And if you guys already knew, then I'm surprised you didn't get anything for him or throw a party or something."

Sero groaned painfully in the corner, his head felt like it was going to split in two and he was quite certain it would if you didn't stop talking soon. "Y/N, it's so early."

"It's noon." You deadpanned, only for Sero to slap a pillow over his face and promptly fall back asleep.

"Y/N!!" Mina called out as she bustled back into the bedroom with a tray of tea. "Where did that boyfriend of yours run off to?"

You blushed as she said it so bluntly and coughed to hide it. "He's trying to get the heater thing sorted out."

Last night, you had been shivering so much that he had taken to warming you up other ways just to get your teeth to stop chattering. And let's just say it was a little harder to walk today because of it.

This morning when you woke up, he had been yelling into the phone that they needed to bring more blankets up right fucking now or else he would explode off their arms since they couldn't do the most fucking simple of tasks and you swiped the phone from him, rapidly and profusely apologizing for his brash language on behalf of the angry pomeranian simmering beside you.

You threw in that you would be grateful if they could spare more but if others needed it more than you told them you two would be fine and could make do before thanking them for their time and hanging up.

And since Bakugou insisted that the heater needed to be fixed today or else you were going to get sick, he allocated you to Kirishima's room, one of the only ones not having any problems while he demanded some answers from the hotel staff and got someone to fucking fix the shitty thing.

So now, here you were. And you had a score to settle with Kirishima anyways, so you weren't bothered.

Mina had already told you everything. Everyone had been in on it.

You weren't shocked by Kaminari and Shinsou and most of the others' involvement in this little scheme but you were surprised to hear it had been Iida's idea to make both of you sit at the same table with no other company.

You'd have to thank them all later.

An hour and several more pillows thrown later, you and Mina had managed to drag down the two sleepy boys just in time to greet your old teachers alongside the rest of your peers as they stepped through the door.

"Aizawa-sensei!!" You cheered, launching yourself forward so that he'd have to catch you.

He did so without much difficulty, his tired eyes brightening up a little bit as you hugged him tight. Out of all his students, he had the closest bond with you.

"Hey, kid." He greeted tiredly, tugging along his sleeping bag and you lifted an eyebrow when you realized that while Midnight and Mic rolled in their luggage, he only brought his trademark yellow sleeping bag. All Might was parking the car and would be come inside within the next few minutes.

"Where's the rest of your things?" You asked just as Yaoyorozu and Iida greeted Midnight and Mic was tackled in a hug by Jirou.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before yawning. "You really think I'm going to do anything else besides sleep this weekend, kid? Nah."

You frowned at him. "You can't just sleep the whole day away."

"Uh uh," He tutted, wagging a finger in your face for a second before yawning again. "Not day. Days."

You pouted at the correction and he rolled his eyes, resting a hand on top of your head to let you know that he was just kidding and you smiled brightly.

"Here, at least let me help bring it upstairs." You bargained, taking it off his hands.

A smug voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Hey, Y/N, why you walking funny?" Kaminari said with a shit-eating grin and it took every fiber of self-control not to freak out.

"Uh, I'm not?"

But your high pitch due to your embarrassment and mortification at being called out won over and Shinsou sniggered in the background.

"Classy." He teased, crossing his arms over his chest. "Didn't peg you for the type to do it on the first date."

"Oh hush, show some respect!!" Yaoyorozu chastised but your dignity was long gone.

Your face broke out in relief though when the elevator in the lobby dinged and a disgruntled Bakugou stepped out, his vermilion eyes widening a fraction when you sped over to him.

"Whoa— What the, why the hell are your eyes red?!" He rushed out, gripping your shoulders and pulling your close to make sure he saw that right. His eyes narrowed angrily when you sniffled. "Tell me who the fuck made you cry."

"Oh shit." Kaminari and Shinsou swore under their breath as your enraged, extremely protective boyfriend stormed over to them with a deadly aura rolling off him in tsunami sized waves.

Midnight held up her hand, stopping him dead in his tracks at the authority his former teacher held. "Hold on please, just a second."

Everyone waited with bated breath to see what she would do. Would she defend you? Tell off Kaminari who had embarrassed you? Or would she let the hothead hell bent on vengeance regain your honor?

She didn't do any of those things.

Instead, Midnight smirked and held out her hand with the palm upturned to Aizawa with a sly smile. "Pay up. I called it."

Your mouth dropped, along with everyone else's as Aizawa forked over 10,000 yen. Even Koda, Sato and Tokoyami looked shocked, which was so rare, it scared you.

Todoroki was the only one who looked confused but Midoriya was right there to explain what was happening and why the sum of money so significant as you shrieked, shrill and high, thoroughly put off.

"What?!" Your embarrassment long forgotten, thankfully, by everyone else as this new revelation hit them like a truck. "You bet on us?!"

"Just you." Aizawa yawned nonchalantly, blinking his eyes wearily. "C'mon L/N, I thought you would turn him down."

"What?!" You screeched as Bakugou narrowed his eyes at his former homeroom teacher, taking that as a challenge.

Aizawa rolled his eyes as Bakugou got all up in his face, demanding to know just what he meant as Mic threw his head back and announced for all to hear.

"Y/NNNNNNN'S GOT A BOYYYYFRIENDDDD!!!!!!"

Clapping your hands over your ears as every single glass thing within the vicinity shattered, you grinned as the tremors passed by within a few seconds. One perk of having time as a teacher who used his quirk so often on accident, all of you learned how to mitigate the most damage he dealt to your surroundings and deflect it.

Jirou shook her head at you in amusement as Bakugou, who was the closest to Mic aside from Kaminari who had taken up refuge from behind Midnight, flatly stated that he could no longer hear.

To which, Mic screamed even louder.

"I CALLED IT FROM DAY ONEEEEEE!!!!"

"That's enough, Mic." Aizawa said, rubbing his temples to ease the headache that had just come on and offered up a slightly reassuring smile to Tsuyu who hopped over to check on him.

Mic pouted dramatically. "But Shouta—"

"Stop it, you're embarrassing them." He sighed, reining in the energetic blond. "And you embarrassing them is embarrassing me."

Midnight cooed. "Awww, he's happy for them."

"Shut up, Nemuri."

You giggled as the three of them began to bicker amongst themselves, who called it first, who saw the chemistry you two had, who was the first one to realize that it was more than just a school crush, all of it.

After beating up Kaminari and Shinsou behind their backs, Bakugou made his way over to you, wiping his hands on his pants and he smiled at you cockily.

"Heater's fixed."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

He hummed. "Mmhm, so wanna get out of here?"

You laughed lightly, being careful not to draw too much attention to yourselves as you slipped away when Mic let out a particularly piercing shriek that he should've gotten the money because he paired the two of you for a project when you were in his English class.

Classic Mic.

"What about breakfast?" You asked as you two took the emergency stairs, at least, just for the first couple of floors until you were clear. You weren't sure your legs would survive the 80 flights just to reach your room.

Bakugou smirked and his mouth ghosted the shell of your ear. "Don't need that shit, I got something better."

Something told you that you weren't going to be leaving the bed for the rest of this trip.

Oh well.

You supposed this was one way to exercise.

[kneesntoess]

I'm interested in like all of the TMA fics lol, but I'll ask about just this one: Martin-and-food. I'm also really curious about the hobbit au of doom???

I'll start by talking about Martin-and-Food!

Also see further down for Hobbit AU of Doom shenanigans!

content warning before we go any further for disordered eating!

Martin & Food is less a wip and more a collection of thoughts I have about Martin, his relationship to food, and how that is informed by poverty, food insecurity and being responsible for resource management when you have no control over those resources. Many of these thoughts are informed by my own experience with food, poverty and being white working class

I'm still hashing out a structure, but I have a few emotional beats or core ideas I know I want to explore:

anxiety over affording food, and whether he will have enough of it with a corresponding fear about "wasting" food

anxiety about social engagements that involve food, especially in situations where the social rules are less well definied - splitting a bill vs. paying for your own, sharing communal food e.g. in the break room, outings that may or may not involve food of varying expense levels - and compensating by avoiding those situations or by controlling them (because then he knows exactly how much he as spent and that he doesn't "owe" anyone anything in the future

shame around not having tried certain foods or flavour profiles, and a lack of experience with preparing or cooking food because it's hard to experiment when you know burning or not liking someone means going hungry

I have begun gathering evidence from canon that might go into these, though! At the moment I am thinking specifically about how he had enough food in his apartment for two weeks captivity, and his reaction to Jon's birthday party. But I still have notes to make on the Vibes from a few other episodes, especially Recollections!

As for the Hobbit AU of Doom!

I have, uh, approximately 5000 words of outline for this fic alone, and I really do mean outline. This whole thing is timetabled to span several decades if I ever manage to actually write it!

Essentially a fix it fic in which Thorin, Fili & Kili survive the Hobbit and go on to live in and rebuild Erebor and I play fast and loose with canon because I can do what I want. Endgame Thorin/Bilbo & Kili/Tauriel, with Legolas/Gimli if I ever get that far.

Bilbo initially intends to return to the Shire, pack up Bag End, and then join the first caravan leaving Eren Luid back to Erebor to be with Thorin his new family. Upon arriving home, however, he find a tiny orphaned Frodo desperately in need of a little kindness in the sprawling chaos of his very many cousins and decides to take him in, delaying his return to Erebor for several years. Many shenanigans ensue before Bilbo and his nephew finally make the journey to the mountains again.

This post is already incredibly long, so here, have a snippet! In which Bilbo meets a young Frodo for the first time

There was a child in Bilbo's usual spot.

Dark haired and very pale, and somewhat smaller than Bilbo had come to expect of Brandybuck faunts, curly head bent forward over the enormous book in his lap, wearing well made but obviously secondhand clothes. It was unusual to find so young a child unattended and alone - Bilbo was no judge of faunt ages, but this one couldn't have been even a tween - nor one so quiet.

"Hullo, lad," Bilbo said, in his best approximation of jovial non-threat.

The small head of curly hair shot up suddenly, revealing wide blue eyes and soft, round cheeks, lightly dusted with freckles.

"'ullo," the lad said, and began a sort of nervous, full body fidget, chewing on one thumb. "Who are you?"

Bilbo laughed, and found himself sitting down on the floor beside the lad, legs folded under him and hands in his lap. "I'm Bilbo Baggins, my lad."

"Bilbo!" The small boy’s face transformed for a moment into delighted disbelief, and the wiggling increased. "My Auntie __ has been telling stories about you."

"Has she now?" Bilbo said, deeply amused. He must have caused quite a scandal - and, bilbo privately thought, quite a lot of disappointment. He wondered what the old bag had had her eye on at Bag End.

"Uh huh. She says you're - " the lad frowned, tongue sticking out, as he worked his way through the word. "Disreputable!"

"Well!" Bilbo replied, feeling very pleased with himself.

[rotzaprachim]

⭐ She isn’t ready for marriage, she said. She isn’t ready to be tied to a man, to be anything more or less than herself alone. The Kerch made the whole business easy by never referring to this thing they’re doing as a marriage, all the paperwork is about Economic Units, Civil Unions. There were so many pages of jargon it made Inej’s eyes bleed. Future children held less inches of fine grey type than agreements on pigs and shipping company stocks, and were described in the same economic language.

Kaz went through the whole thing line by line until the she was sure she was going to call for an annulment before they’d even gotten the damned thing notarised, or else make herself a tastefully rich and very young widow.

“It’s a contract,” he said. “You should know all the details before you sign your life away.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Inej said, irritated by the last several pages about Property Division in the Event of Medium Sized or Larger Storms, Grisha Attacks, and General Flooding, “I’m not signing my life away.”

“When you get married, it might be difficult to annul if you’ve still got a legal Kerch-”

“When I get married?” she shot back challengingly. “To who?”

“I don’t know. That fire-tongued revolutionary who writes you poetry and will make you a new world. The Kaelish tavern maid who always pours you a free beer in her bar while you sing about the plight of the repressed. Someone hopelessly moon-eyed and optimistic, who thinks the world shits rainbows and knows what you’re worth.”

“You, Kaz Brekker,” she finally sighed, “are a hell of a lot dumber than they say you are.” ⭐

this is from in secret, between the shadow and the soul! This fic has kind of a complicated story- I had devoted my free writing time that summer to writing an inej-centric hunger games au which currently sits at 20k on my laptop and may or may not ever see the light of day. but it very much DID get me thinking about the complexity of inej and kaz's relationship and just relationships in general. on a whim while i was waiting for someone in a medical center waiting room a bit of a trip from home (nothing of concern but i had a notebook and a pen and no wifi and a bunch of like half hour snippets of free time) I started writing something for fun totally disconnected from the AU and very self indulgent. i love historical fiction and well-done historical romances, and one thing I'm so fascinated in in general is marriage. as a social, religious, economic and cultural institution. because it's something both found in so many times and cultures and yet the reasons for and views on why people get married are so debated and complex and variable. and so i think a lot of the stuff about what we owe each other, in a way, and contracts, got remixed into this fic.

in retrospect I think this fic marked a really landmark moment for me as a writer, which was when I went from writing mainly AU's to writing mainly canon. i started writing and reading fic when modern AU's and such were really predominating over everything, esp in the star wars and the 100 fandoms, and I think the canon for SW in particular scared me, or I felt in some way constrained to the style of the original. writing this made me realise how much fucking around with the style of originals is actually what as a writer i love to do. writing fic in the original universe of something means having to crack it open a bit to see what the component parts are (I guess Kaz would have a whole lockpicking metaphor about that!)

 i think the big vibe between kaz and inej here is sort of digging into that pseudo-regency combo of intimacy and restraint that really characterises their mix of electricity and emotional remove. and that's on full display here, because they have this thing as big as a MARRIAGE on the table and are having to figure out how to deal with it. so we’ve got the collision course of kerch’s hell capitalism and how they think of marriage as a financial agreement above all- which is definitely not the only reason or cause that people have gotten married historically, but has in various societies been a major factor. we’ve got inej, who emphatically does not, as she says, want to be tied to a man in this kind of economic situation. but i don’t think she is flatly opposed to a marriage in the future that’s thought of more in terms of familial ties and children. one of the kanej lines in CK that lives in my mind the most is probably the whole thing after the bathroom scene of, “what was she supposed to do? find a kind husband, have his children, and sharpen the knives after the family had gone to bed.” so for her there’s this internal argument between the life she might have had and the one she’s having now, and what the life she actually wants now is. Even if these questions are still very hypothetical, i think the hypothetical future is on the table for almost everyone who’s planning on getting married. meanwhile Kaz doesn’t want to tie her back to him or ketterdam in any way that can’t be undone! she’s not his girl but she can have him if that’s what she wants! he’s certainly repressing himself and telling himself it’s for her sake her, in a way, but a few lines after this whole thing ends up signed he’s got a whole little tongue slip about kids. SO. and the thing is about them too that I don’t think they’re flatly solely repressed! I think they’re remarkably comfortable with each other and are Dealing With Things in this whole fic in a remarkably adult way. They’re getting there! but anyway TL:DR I’d say this scene for me is actually sort of the I DO serious wedding moment. it’s kaz’s whole idea that she’s only doing this wedding thing for her practical purposes and he won’t be the one to tie her down again, she’ll find someone else better because who wouldn’t love INEJ, and then it’s inej going YOU YOU LITERALLY SHAPE UP YOU’RE THE HUSBAND. 

thank you SO much for sending me this! it was fun to puzzle this one over a bit and i do actually have thousands of words still in my mind about them and their marriage that i WILL get back to! 

[hellonoblesky]

Diluc plays music,,,, I have so many thoughts (hcs under the cut, mainly Diluc but there’s a little Kaeya sprinkled in there because,,, Ragnvinder Brothers Brainrot)

Crepus was That Parent who makes their kids learn some type of instrument so Diluc’s been playing music since he was a little kid

Both Kaeya and Diluc can not only play the lyre, but the piano as well 

Kaeya excels with Piano, while Diluc is better with string instruments

When Diluc was on his funky 3-4 year trip thing he picked up a few instruments from other nations 

He’s not the best at any of them by any means, but he can play a basic song or two

He learned mainly from people he ran into while on said trip, so he hasn’t had much time with most of the other nation’s instruments

However, he’s open to learning more if anyone offers to teach him

Diluc will play upon request of friends, but otherwise steers clear of playing anything publicly

He does play sometimes when he’s alone though, mainly as a distraction when things get overwhelming for him

Kaeya mentioned that Diluc could play the lyre around Venti one time.

ONE. TIME.

And Diluc had to endure not only Venti’s constant wine theft, but being pestered to play a little music for the tavern

He caved when other people in the tavern joined in Venti’s begging

The Angel’s Share hasn’t been that quiet for someone playing music in a long, long time

Secretly, Diluc sort of liked playing for the tavern

It was just him and a crowd of people eager to listen, and while he might not generally like being the center of attention... it was kind of refreshing

And he got to be a little smug about his lyre skills rivaling Venti’s

Kaeya used to play snippets of Khaenri’ahn melodies that he could remember and figure out on the piano

Sometimes Diluc will remember those melodies and remember Kaeya almost looking sad while playing them

He pushes said memories out of his head most of the time and busies himself with work

Diluc sings

It’s a small comfort he has

Usually he just hums to himself if there’s a song stuck in his head, but it’s not unheard of to hear him singing when he thinks no one can hear

Usually the songs are somber old ballads, but on occasion (very very very rare occasion) that he’s actually feeling pretty good and happy, he’ll sing something cheerful

Adalinde and the staff that’ve worked at the Winery for a long while know to let Diluc be if he’s singing, because it means his comfortable and content enough to do so, and they know that’s somewhat rare

Hillie and Moco on the other hand...

They’ll linger around and listen or watch

It makes Diluc uncomfortable because he hates it when he can feel people watching him but not know who’s watching, so he sticks to singing where those two aren’t likely to find him

Hillie and Moco don’t mean to make Diluc uncomfortable, they just haven’t been working around Diluc long enough to know when Diluc’s uncomfortable

They think he’s embarrassed to be caught singing, and try to support him but really he’s just. Not vibing with being watched and not know who’s watching

Adalinde does her best to keep Hillie and Moco busy though, and is working on getting them to leave Diluc alone

She doesn’t want him to have to deal with worrying about people watching him on top of everything else

Diluc knows Adalinde is trying her best to keep Moco and Hillie at bay and is eternally grateful because he likes singing

He just doesn’t like being spied on

Diluc also wishes he could go to concerts but Mondstadt’s music scene Just Doesn’t Have That

He went to a few in Fontain and adores them

A full orchestra? No obnoxious bards annoying you? Silence of the audience? No one getting into fights in the middle of a performance? No drunken banter and haggling? Literally just people listening to music? That’s his IDEAL music setting

He’s been trying to make plans for a trip to Fontain to see a concert for months but hasn’t managed to secure plans so far

He just wants to listen to music without all the noise of People

[kyanitedragon]

Returning the ask game favor from blacktobackmesa! L, T, V

Thank you! :D

L: What’s the weirdest AU you’ve ever come up with?

Not so much "weird" but... I was thinking about a sort of swapped not-a-game hlvrai au where instead of Black Mesa kidnapping and dissecting aliens prior to the ResCas, what if Xen and the Nihilanth fought back? What if humans got "collected" and relocated to Xen that early? What if kid!Gordon was one of them? What if in this au, that's how Benry became childhood friends with him?

Some scenes would include: Gordon loosing a hand to an octocow / bullsquid (sorta like Eli from Half Life 2) and Benry realizing that humans don't regenerate. The Vorts helping to care for and protect the humans on xen. Black Mesa eventually coming to rescue them, but they're all wearing HEV suits so Gordon thinks they're aliens. I'm also a fan of the headcanons of Tommy and Benry being interdimensional aliens, so in this au they don't meet until later as adults, but when they do meet, they make eye contact and get this sense of kinship, of having been best friends in an alternate reality. They feel snippets of memories and emotions from alternate versions of themselves, almost like remembering a fuzzy dream. So they feel like they're already old friends, and this greatly confuses everyone else who knows for certain they just met.

Benry stared at one of the humans. Gordon was the only human he ever met, but this man in front of him seemed very familiar. It was like… he knew him from a dream or something.

He knew his name was Tommy Coolatta, he was a scientist, and he had a pet dog named Sunkist.

How did Benry know what a dog was?

“Benry…?” Tommy asked, and Benry’s eyes widened.

“what?” Benry muttered. Had they met before? “Tommy?”

Tommy grinned at him, and it made Benry smile too.

“TOMMY!” Benry yelled happily.

The au is just a vague collection of scenes and vibes, tho, not any plot...

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

Any sort of Soulmate AU. Really not a fan of fated relationships of any sort.

V: A secondary (or underrated) character you want to see more of in fic?

I'd like to see Forzen used more, especially using his canon personality! A lot of people tend to stick him in a villain role that seems super ooc. Like! The guy just wants to graduate!

I kinda get it, since hlvrai doesn't really have evil villains so you don't have many options if you want a dark and evil character in your fic. But Forzen was such a comedic and ridiculous villain in the series I can't wrap my head around him being actually evil. It turns me off from a lot of fics, honestly.

I'd love to see fics exploring what he's up to post-canon. Maybe befriending the science team? Would he and Benry make up and be friends again? Or would they dislike or even hate each other?

[guudak]

andante, andante

pairing: jungkook / oc genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining word count: 7,522 The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.

“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?” 

“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.” 

You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”

“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be. 

“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head. 

“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”

Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”

The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ” 

He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.

You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -

i’m sorry

im so so sorry.

can we talk

please

You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.

You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.

 hi jungkook i’d love to talk

are u ok

Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.

In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.

“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled. 

At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.

“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs. 

A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother. 

The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?

“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back. 

“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.” 

“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you. 

You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.

“Hey, cutie.”

And there it was.

Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”

A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh. 

“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”

Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.

“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”

“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.

“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”

Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”

“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him. 

He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.” 

Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”

He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.

“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?” 

“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”

He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.” 

“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest. 

“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”

Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”

A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so. 

“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.

Then came the finale.

The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up. 

Exhibit one -

“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed. 

It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila. 

You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Exhibit two - 

“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in. 

She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?

Exhibit three -

“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”

You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!” 

“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”

You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook. 

So that was that. 

By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.

And finally: exhibit four.

“Hey.” 

You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next. 

You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?” 

His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.

Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature. 

“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”

Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?” 

Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven. 

His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.” 

Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks. 

Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name. 

He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”

It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all. 

Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms. 

“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’

No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.

No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.

It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.

There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” 

“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell. 

Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.” 

“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him. 

“You remember anything from yesterday?”

“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.” 

“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”

“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”

Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.

“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.

 /

The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.

Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head. 

His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.

The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed. 

You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring. 

“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion. 

“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”

“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”

He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”

You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.” 

Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.” 

You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”

He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.” 

“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”

His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Not just the alcohol talking?”

“No.”

You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.

“Sor—“

“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.” 

You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.

He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room. 

Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right? 

While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered. 

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”

The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him. 

He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.

“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape. 

“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.

You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead. 

You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.

“Yes?” 

“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed. 

In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.

For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.

At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm. 

And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been. 

/ 

“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.

“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”

“Scooch over, babe.”

Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.

The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground. 

Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.” 

“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”

He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”

“What, where?”

“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.” 

Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.

Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.

Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”

You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.” 

“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”

Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”

“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.

He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?” 

“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”

“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”

You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously. 

“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous. 

“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye.”

 /

The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.

“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”

“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”

“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”

You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath. 

It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place? 

“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”

You hear the voice before you see the face. 

Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook. 

“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point. 

Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.

Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again. 

“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.

It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior. 

The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.

His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.

You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.

He blinks. “You … you have?”

You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”

After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.” 

You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.  

“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.

“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”

“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.” 

“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you. 

His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”

You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?” 

“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.” 

You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?” 

His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.

“How long?”

He exhales. “A while.”

“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”

He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”

“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”

At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.

Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.

Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.

“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”

A pause. 

“What do you mean?”

“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”

He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”

“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”

He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”

“Should we try it?”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.

“But then it’ll be awkward.”

“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”

A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear. 

“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”

If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.

But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.

He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.

Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.

“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.

In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees. 

“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.” 

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”

It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate. 

The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you. 

Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.

It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder. 

When was the last time someone looked at you like that? 

The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.

When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him. 

“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper. 

“I’m embarrassed.”

You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”

“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.” 

“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing. 

“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”

“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”

“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”

“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”

His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.” 

“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.

It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”

Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”

His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.

“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”

a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99

originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33 

[inklingofadream]

uhhh Martin fae and Housebound 👀

ok martin fae is the first fae au installment not from jon's pov, martin goes to find a cure for his mum and ends up in the archives. he Does Not realize that jon isn't fae in this installment, bc why would i waste that devastating realization on sth without jon's pov of the mistake lol

The number of apparently unguarded entrance points only enhanced Martin’s view of the castle as some sort of trap, but no one jumped on him immediately once he passed the threshold, nor did an alternative option suddenly present itself. He pressed on.

No one stopped him. They didn’t stop him as he worked his way systematically through the ground floor, and they didn’t stop him when he found the stairway leading down to a door labeled “Archives”. He’d think there was no one there at all, if he hadn’t caught sight of a few fae at the distant ends of corridors and had to press himself to the wall and around corners until they passed.

(He’d always thought fae were meant to be regal and ethereal, but these seemed hungover more than anything else.)

Housebound is something I started last spring (actually around the same time i started the cult au) about immediately post mag 80, where jon happens to walk in a liiiiiittle too early and runs into elias post brutal pipe murder. feeling freaked out and strung out, jon is manipulated by elias going "they're gonna think it was u tho 😈 such a shame u've alienated ur freinds and have nowhere to go 🤭 if only there was someone willing to help u 🤔" while internally his process is "love having total control over my archivist 😏 he'd b a v cute housewife 😜" so jon moves in w elias and feels weirdly beholden to him and afraid of him and ends up acting like his live-in housekeeper and it's all very weird Vibes. also jon has Anxiety about his evil boss maybe figuring out he's queer? but jon has no idea how, so that adds to the weird Vibes bc did elias know??? or is this a weird psychological torment thing he's doing to his presumed-cis employee??? but then why would he buy jon masculine AND feminine clothes... *anxiety spiral* which is what this lil snippet is about. just... what if instead of having a supportive goergie jon had a creepy boss making him doubt his free will? also i think he'd look nice in a swooshy skirt

The clothes were far more numerous than he felt was necessary and, though all the tags had been clipped out, clearly expensive. He didn’t mind that terribly- at first, he had felt awkward and guilty over it, but decided that if his boss was going to frame him for murder and enslave him to a supernatural being beyond mortal reckoning, the least he deserved was a few nice clothes. Many of them were sleeker, finer versions of the type of thing he usually wore to work, though in a range of jewel tones rather than his preferred black, gray, tan, and white. The rest, though…

He was certain (nearly certain) that there was no way Elias could know. He always wore exactly the type of blandly masculine clothing to work that was expected of him, saved anything else for weekends and days off- dresses and skirts weren’t technically disallowed to him by the dress code, but in his early days at the Institute he hadn’t wanted to risk any of the numerous potential consequences, and by the time he felt the slightest confidence in changing that he was too well-established in his role as socially isolated but competent and exacting researcher, and didn’t want to put up with the social flurry that any deviation from that would surely cause. He participated whenever the Institute held an unbearably twee seminar or after work event meant to “celebrate diversity,” but never beyond a discreet rainbow pin.

(There were others, nonbinary and ace and bi, still attached to the jacket in the back of his closet he hadn’t worn since uni. Had Elias somehow found one of those photos? Knowing his employer was devoted to an evil god of knowledge made the idea of said employer digging through his ex-girlfriend’s Facebook archive seem a lot less laughable)

For all Jon’s discretion, here he had a closet full of ruffled blouses and swooshing skirts, even a couple dresses, far more than he’d ever been able to justify owning when he couldn’t wear them to the one place he spent the majority of his waking hours.

Maybe they were meant to humiliate him, Elias’ idea of a cruel joke at the expense of someone who had little choice but to wear whatever he provided. But then, why offer Jon the option of more masculine clothes at all? He resented having to wonder about them at all, and shoved anything remotely feminine to the back of the closet (which was a shame; some of them really were beautiful).

[echoghost1]

Recreational Botany

Word Count: 3384 For: @lexosaurus

Read on AO3 and I’m only posting a snippet here because formatting on this site is just too much right now.

Summary:  It wasn't her fault. She was merely curious, had only wanted to help. She didn't mean for this to happen. She just hoped it would wear off soon.

Edit: I added the rest of the fic here! Edit: I added a summary too!

Sam had been interested in the occult and had a greenhouse. She was honestly surprised at herself for not looking into ghost plants sooner.

When they found out about Blood Blossoms, and was that the weirdest day of her life, she knew she had to know more. At first, it was just so they wouldn't be caught so unaware next time. She also needed to make sure that they really were extinct so Danny wouldn't get hurt like that again.

But then she wondered if there were other plants. Maybe there was something a little less painful, maybe even helpful.

Eventually, she found something that sounded promising. She ordered the seeds and made a space in the back of her greenhouse, as far from the entrance as she could get.

Several months, and many ghost fights later, the plant was finally ready. She trimmed a few of the small buds and placed them in a little brown bag for safekeeping.

Now she just had to figure out how to test it.

======================================================

The trio was hanging out in Sam's basement bored out of their minds because there hadn't been any ghost activity that day and they couldn't decide what to do instead.

"Man we really need to get another hobby if we're bored without ghosts," Danny said as he stared at the ceiling while he lounged on his favorite bean bag.

"Speak for yourself dude," Tucker teased, "I have plenty of hobbies."

Danny sat up and cocked a brow, "owning multiple outdated PDAs does not count as multiple hobbies."

Tucker gasped in faux shock, "Outdated? Moi? Why I never!"

"Speaking of hobbies," Sam segued before the boys could devolve into the pillow fight they were all ready to start. "I found a new plant recently and I guess since nothing else is going on we could try it out?" She suggested as she went to fetch the bag from its hiding place.

She was glad her parents hadn't noticed the false bottom in the drawer in the end table. She slipped her finger into the small notch and lifted it to reveal the spare first aid kit along with what she had come in there for.

"I was doing some research a while back and found this plant is supposed to work on ghosts," she started as she placed the little bag on the table.

Danny, who had been scooting his bean bag closer to the coffee table between them, stopped short.

“I only have a little bit here and if it bothers you we can stop right away,” she reassured.

“What’s it supposed to do?” Tucker asked and Danny nodded along, also curious.

“Well I’m not one hundred percent sure because I had to translate the book I was reading,” she started but was interrupted by Tucker, of course.

“That seems risky.”

“That’s why I only grabbed a little bit! Anyway,” she dumped the bag out onto the table, “I guess let’s just see if anything happens.”

Danny hesitantly reached out for the plant then quickly poked it as if it was a live wire. Which with his luck was probably something that could happen.

It didn’t start smoking or sparking so Danny picked up a piece to exam it closer, “Well it’s not hurting me so that’s a plus.”

“Is it doing anything at all?” Tucker asked suddenly skeptical that anything would happen.

Danny shrugged and sniffed the bit of plant between his fingers, “smells nice.”

“It’s not ‘I want to give up my free will’ nice, is it?”

Danny quickly looked up to Sam, “What? No! Why would you ask that?”

She shrugged, was it really out of the realm of possibilities?

“Maybe we should make a little ring of them and see if that does anything?” Tucker suggested.

No one could think of a reason not to so they gathered up the little bits of plant and maybe a ring that Danny could step into. She didn’t want to lose it in the carpet so they just made it on the table. Danny stepped into the ring.

And was still unaffected.

“Maybe this one is a bust after all.” Tucker shrugged.

Danny scooped up the plant buds back into the bag, “or maybe it needs to be the whole thing?” he countered to which Sam was grateful that he was on her side for this.

He rolled a single bud between his fingertips with a contemplative look on his face.

Before she could ask what he was thinking he popped it into his mouth and swallowed it whole.

“What are you doing?!” both Sam and Tucker asked with a healthy mix of shock and dismay.

“What?” he asked as if what he did wasn’t totally bizarre.

“What if that was poisonous?”

He hummed to himself, “I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Then what were you thinking, man?”

“Were you even thinking?”

“I just wanted to know if it tasted the same as it smelt. I don’t know why you guys are making such a big deal about it,” he said before dropping back into the bean bag chair.

Tucker just laughed it off, “So what’s the consensus?”

But Danny didn’t answer right away. He was slowly running his hand back and forth against the carpet. Almost like he was in a trance.

“Danny?” Sam asked cautiously really hoping she didn’t just kill him. Again.

He looked up at the sound of his name but his eyes looked a little unfocused. “Yeah?”

“What did it taste like?” Tucker asked again, slowly, and just as worried as Sam felt.

“Like pomegranates. Which is weird because it didn’t smell like that.” his attention went back to the floor, “has your carpet always felt this nice?” he asked slowly rubbing both hands back and forth across the fibers.

Sam and Tucker just looked at each other but neither seemed to know what to make of that.

“You feeling alright?” Sam ventured.

He nodded, “Feel fine. Actually, “ he looked back up to them as a dazed grin slowly spread across his face, “I feel great.”

Tucker looked from Danny’s near delirious face, to the bag on the table, then back to Danny before he suppressed a snicker.

Sam glared at him, “What could possibly be so funny right now?”

“Is that a weed?” Tucker asked with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Part of her wanted to ask why he asked that, another part wanted to know why he asked with such bad grammar, and that’s when she realized what he was saying.

“Did you just quote a Vine at me?!”

Danny immediately busted up laughing. He always enjoyed a well-placed meme but he was enjoying this a little too much.

“The site said it was supposed to calm a ghost’s energies. I just thought it would make him sleepy or it would make a good painkiller.”

Tucker busted up laughing as well. “Hey Danny, what’s the vibe?”

“Chill dude! It’s so chill. We straight vibin’.” he said while attempting to make snow angels in the carpet.

Sam put her head in her hands. She did not want this. She could not have her parents come down here and see him like this. If Tucker thought he seemed high there’s no way her parents wouldn’t make that assumption too.

Then again. She dared to peak at her potentially intoxicated friend.

He was currently trying to take his shirt off by just pulling himself around the floor by his heels as his back dragged along the ground.

Oh no. He was high, wasn’t he?

“Dude, do you need help?” Tucker offered, still giggling.

Danny nodded with the dopiest grin before sitting up.

“You want that off?” Tucker asked and received the most eager nod in return. “Okay arms up,” he said as if he was directing a small child and not, in fact, a fellow teenager.

As the hem of Danny’s shirt made its way up his torso Sam’s brain finally caught up with what was happening. “What are you doing?” Sam sputtered suddenly feeling very warm.

“I don’t wanna wear that anymore. Doesn't feel nice.” Danny said with the same dorky smile.

Except now he was topless.

Danny wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Danny.

No shirt.

She’d never seen him without a shirt before.

She had hoped, thought when they first went to the waterpark last summer that she would. But he wore a tank top the whole time.

He said he sunburned easily.

But then why didn’t he wear a shirt with sleeves? Because shoulders can get sunburns. That’s normally where you would get them if you’re standing out in the sun all day.

She just assumed he was shy.

Yet here he was.

Topless.

Right in front of her.

In her house.

Why?!

Tucker was apparently not at all alarmed by this state of undress.

Then again they did have gym together so they would be changing together and-

DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT!!

“Room!” she blurted out with such force the boys were startled into paying attention to her, “We need to go to my room.”

Danny was agreeable enough and got himself off the floor. But the way he did it was more like how a toddler would. Butt first, then into a wobbly standing position.

Sam just sped walk to the stairs and ignored the stupid smug look on Tucker’s face.

======================================================

Once they were safely locked in her room Sam pulled out her laptop and tried to find the stupid site where she had gotten her terrible translation for that awful plant.

Or maybe some sort of remedy on how to get him un-high. Sober?

Tucker was sitting in her gamer chair casually turning the seat from side to side while Danny had claimed the bed. He had all of her pillows shoved into the headboard and had successfully burrito-ed himself in her comforter. “You guys ever go into the woods and look for beetles?”

Sam stopped mid-type and just stared straight ahead. He was about to say something stupid, wasn’t he?

“I like the way they cronch.”

“Danny no.” Sam wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.

Tucker accidentally sent himself into a slow spin as he laughed, “Are you eating bugs?”

“You try flying at over a hundred miles fast and not get a belly full of bugs.”

“Close your mouth maybe?” Sam suggested despite knowing he would find a way to counter it.

“But how will I make joke?”

Ah, there it is.

“Are we just going to glaze over the fact that he started this conversation off by asking if we go into the woods to hunt for beetles?!” Tucker asks, finally getting his laughter under control.

“What, I’m supposed to watch Bear Grylls eat a bug and not want to try one myself?

“You are legit feral!”

"Y'all just picky eaters."

"Y'all?!"

"My aunt is from Arkansas, I think that makes me legally allowed to use Southern-isms."

"This is the best thing that's ever happened!" Tucker hugged his sides as he laughed, "We should have got you high earlier. This is the funniest you've ever been."

"Aw, thanks, Tuck," Danny said bashfully before he threw the blanket off himself and crawled off the bed. "Hug time!"

"Wait, what?" was all Tucker had time to say before Danny sat in his lap, wrapped his arms around him, and nuzzled into his neck.

Danny hummed contentedly, "You're warm."

"Well maybe if you hadn't taken your shirt off you'd be warm too?"

"No. It made me feel gross. Pants do too." He muttered with a grumpy pout.

"Please keep your pants on!" Sam begged because she knew she wouldn't survive if he didn't.

"Boo." He huffed as he crossed his arms.

"Danny, you're still sitting on me."

"Yeah, I know."

"Why?"

"Because you looked lonely." He looked down at his lap as he twiddled his fingers together, "and I figured we'd be less lonely together."

Oh no, that was really cute.

"Thanks man, but I think I'm good now."

"Oh, right. Okay."

Danny didn't make any moves to get up.

Tucker moved his head so he could catch Danny's eye, "are you still lonely?"

Danny poked his pointer fingers together repeatedly as the lightest blush dusted across his cheeks, "yeah."

"You know," Tucker started with a sly grin creeping across his face, "goths are notoriously lonely people."

Tucker locked eyes with her and the utter betrayal she felt was unmatched. She was so getting him back for this!

Danny's eyes lit up in excitement, and also with ghostly energy, as he floated off Tucker's lap.

She barely had enough time to put her laptop away before he tackled her with his enthusiastic affection.

She mouthed, "I hate you," at Tucker after brushing Danny's hair away from her mouth.

Gosh, his hair was so soft. It was like what you think clouds should feel like. 

Her heart was beating so fast. Or was it his?

God, he was so close.

He was nuzzling into a spot just to the right of her collarbone and below her shoulder.

"Your shirt feels nice." He finally stopped and leaned back to meet her eyes, "Take it off."

"What? No!" She sputtered as she tried very hard not to yeet him across the room.

"Why not?" He pouted clearly missing how not okay that was to say.

"Because I'm wearing it! Just go get something from my closet if you want to wear my clothes so bad!"

He immediately took her up on the offer and scurried off to her closet.

"Wow, it's so big in here! It's like another room in your room."

"That's what a walk-in closet is you dingus!" Tucker shouted playfully.

Danny laughed as the sound of hangers sliding across the rod as he perused her selection carried into her room.

Just as Sam started to relax the very distinct sound of a zipper opening and denim dropping to the floor broke the comfortable silence.

Sam was pretty sure all the blood in her body evaporated.

"You want me to check on him?" Tucker asked already half out the chair.

"Please."

Tucker walked over cautiously, "Hey Danny, you about done in there?"

"Yeah, I'll be right out."

Tucker lingered just outside of the doorway of the closet, "You remember that Sam asked you not to take off your pants right?"

"But I found better ones."

Tucker turned back to her and whispered, "Better ones?"

She just shrugged and waved for him to continue.

"Right, can I come in?" He asked with so much question in his voice it sounded like he didn't actually want to.

"Sure! You can let me know if it's a look or not."

Tucker took a breath, stealing himself for whatever he was about to witness. He took a step forward and crossed the threshold and then another step he was out of view.

It was quiet for a moment before Tucker let out a poorly suppressed snicker. "Well, it's definitely a look."

Sam took her own steadying breath before walking into the closet herself.

Danny was there smiling down at his new outfit, before looking up at her. "So what do you think?"

The first thing she noticed was that he was wearing the DIY’ed crop top of her oversized Dumpty Humpty concert tee, the thick chunky fringe swayed from side to side as he moved.

Her eyes slowly traveled downward and found he was wearing bright baby blue capri leggings that were covered in sickeningly happy large white daisies. And to top it all off the shiny opalescent fabric of a high-waisted pleated skater skirt was the final item of his nightmare outfit.

He was a fashion disaster in the truest form.

She wasn’t sure if she should even bother asking why he chose what he did, there might not be a method to this madness.

Tucker on the other hand, apparently had no qualms in asking any question that popped into his head, “So why the skirt?”

“It reminds me of Jazz.”

“How?”

“We used to play dress up,” he admitted while twisting at the waist to get the skirt to flare around him.

He stopped abruptly and declared, “I want cheesy fries,” before grabbing them each by the hand and walking back into her room and towards the door.

Oh no, they could not go out like this. He could not go out like this! She is very sure he would not like it if anyone saw him dressed like this.

“How about I order them and we can watch a movie here?” She cursed herself internally because if he agreed to that they’d have to go back downstairs and it would make coming up here pointless.

“But Nasty Burger doesn't deliver.” he countered as he swayed his shoulders back and forth which caused both the crop top fringe and the pleats of the skirt to sway to the same hypnotic beat.

“I have my ways.” Those ways were an obscene inheritance. She found a lot of people did a lot of things if you just paid them the right amount.

“Okie Dokie Loki!” he agreed cheerily before skipping through her closed bedroom door.

Right, ghost powers. He still had those.

======================================================

Once she was confident enough that Tucker was keeping Danny distracted, Sam called the Nasty Burger to place their order. She figured she might as well just get something for everyone and make the delivery worth the person’s time.

The phone was answered on the 4th ring, “Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I know this is going to sound stupid, but could you take a delivery order for me?”

“We don’t do delivery?”

“I know, but can you make an exception? Just this once? I can pay extra!” God, she hated using her wealth this way.

“How much extra are we talking?”

But it was hard to argue with the results. “Name your price.”

After a bit of haggling for haggling’s sake, Sam was able to place her order. Now all she had to do was wait.

The stereo in the basement came on and it was obviously turned up pretty loud, but she couldn’t tell what the song was from her spot by the front door. Her leg bounced with impatience until the doorbell finally rang.

She popped up and sped walked to the door, cash in hand.

She opened it quickly to find Valerie on the other side. Sam sighed realizing that she should have expected that.

That‘s why the voice on the phone sounded so familiar.

“So I have to ask, why can’t you leave your house?”

Before she had time to come up with an excuse, he appeared.

“Valerie!” He cheered before running over and into Sam when he didn’t stop in time. “Are those my cheesy fries?”

Valerie’s expression went from surprise, to confusion, to perplexed amusement. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s my new fit! Do you like it?” he swishes to set the skirt and fringe back into motion. That seemed to be his favorite part of the outfit as far as she could tell.

“It’s definitely a statement.”

“Oh wait! I forgot the best part!” he reached into the pocket of the skirt. Which surprised Sam because she didn’t know that had pockets.

Then he pulled out something that made her even more confused, mostly because she had absolutely no idea where the heck he had even gotten those from.

He slipped on a pair of pale blue shutter shades and slipped them on. “Now it’s complete.”

Valerie stared at him for a good 20 seconds then leaned in almost nose to nose with him. "Are you high right now?"

"That depends," Danny slowly slides the shades down his nose, "Are you the police? Because if yes?" He pushes the glasses back up to sort of hiding his bloodshot eyes, "Nope."

Sam just closed her eyes, “I will pay you an extra two hundred dollars if you never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Make it two-fifty. I’ve got rent to pay.”

“Fine!” she pulled out the money and aggressively traded the food for the stupid amount of cash. She hated that she literally just had to pay Valerie hush money.

Danny better appreciate the lengths she was willing to go for him.

[focsle]

6, 10, 13, 31!

Thank you!

6. Single or multiple POV? Multiple POV, but not TOO many. I like to bounce fairly equally between the perspectives of two characters who are foils to each other. And sometimes dip into the perspectives of other satellite characters but the main narrative tends to center on Two.

10. Do you set yourself deadlines? Nope, it’s basically a ‘it’s done when it’s done’ sorta deal. I’ll set low stakes half hour timers though to do writing or planning. I try to do that daily if I have the energy.

13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished Vague vibes, usually some sort of scenery and a piece of music. I pull from my dreams a lot. Then I plot, starting from a rough summary arc of the whole piece & themes I wanna explore, to the arc of three acts, to the story beats within each act, to action beats within each story beat. Basically when I have little snippets of ideas for scenes or lines of dialogue I’ll just messily stick them in my outline in the corresponding scene to come back to. I also worldbuild alongside my outline so they sort of come up together. Then I write—longhand if I’m feeling stuck or if I’m traveling. Usually go through 3-4 drafts to get to final, but I also have a bad habit of editing constantly as I go so the first draft is usually pretty polished. The drafts that follow are usually centered around fixing narrative issues rather than spiffing up the language or doing major rewrites.

31. Least favorite part of writing Building the outline tbh. It’s the hardest part for me because it’s the foundation of everything that follows and so I always feel a lot of pressure. It’s also when I have the most self doubt about the story cos it’s hard to be like ‘this will be good’ when I’m like ‘he goes to the store and something upsets him idk think about it!!’.