#theres other fics i want to write too

[sneepsnoopboopideeboop]

how do i. yknow. write

[seiwas]

for writing game, iwaizumi + assistance <3

hope this sparks some inspo and thank you in advancee

hi there!! thanks for sending in a prompt 🫶

contains: friends to lovers (ish), halloween parties, reader is dressed as catwoman, expletives, iwaizumi is thiiiiis 🤏 close to murdering seijoh4 (jk)

iwaizumi + assistance

this is a set-up.

iwaizumi knows he shouldn't have fucking believed anything the boys "promised" him back when they assigned him this costume.

the suit is fucking tight, spandex digging into his groins and all other crevices that definitely should be aired out after after a few hours. he's had to constantly readjust his stance almost every few minutes, the black fabric compressing his thighs and torso, significantly constricting the range of motion his shoulders and arms are typically used to. if anything else, it could double up as a back brace from how rigidly straight it's kept his posture all night.

he'll give it to makki though; he did outdo himself sourcing this year's costumes―this batman set looks pretty damn legit.

except for one tiny problem.

there's no fucking pee hole. it's a zip-up, zip-down one-piece situation. and that normally wouldn't be a problem, except that oikawa "accidentally" knocked over a cocktail straight into his pants, the sickeningly sweet liquid now seeping straight into the fabric and past his boxers―cold and sticky as it touches his skin.

and so, the problem: his pants are wet, it makes him want to fucking pee, and coincidentally, the only vacant bathroom is across the hall, at your apartment.

this is why he believes this is a set up. that, and the fact that you're dressed in an outfit strikingly similar―just with cat ears.

he's been asked five times in this party if you're in matching couple outfits.

it catches him off guard, flusters him because of how badly he wants to say yes. but, you're just friends, and he doesn't even think you like him that way (despite mattsun and oikawa practically begging him to confess. makki tells him he thinks you're going to do it first).

so he politely smiles and says no, but you look good, your costume clinging to you in all the right places. thank fucking god he has a cape because he's pretty sure he spent the first 30 minutes in the party hiding his boner.

"hajime, it's fine, i swear," you stand beside him in front of the conveniently locked bathroom in oikawa's apartment. from the other side of the door, he's pretty sure he hears mattsun and his girlfriend mumbling. maybe fucking? who knows. "you can just use the bathroom in my apartment."

he glances at you before closing his eyes, contemplating, before finally agreeing to you.

"okay."

if he's being honest with himself, friends is definitely an incomplete label to what you are. as oikawa's neighbor, you are conveniently around all the time; and oikawa being oikawa, the ever-social butterfly, he's somehow managed to carve a space for you in the friend group.

(never mind the fact that oikawa's sniffed him out from the moment he first introduced you.)

you were a crush, then a friend, and now you're someone he picks up from work and drives back home three times a week, because he "has to train oikawa." you don't question it, even when you both know he stays over for dinner way past the gym's open hours.

"you know where it is," you open your apartment and urge him in.

"sorry again," he turns to face you.

"yeah, yeah, just pee!" you laugh, shoving him towards the bathroom door.

getting out of the suit is manageable, and he's able to wipe off a bit of the cocktail that's leaked to the suit and his boxers just to make sure it isn't gross and sticky when he gets home later. peeing is a big relief once he gets it over with, but it's when he has to suit up again that things become difficult.

stretching out the spandex one body part at a time is a workout in itself―the hardest task being when he has to pull it over his shoulders, adjusting it to fit properly over his arms and chest.

but then the zipper breaks.

and he truly thinks makki has fucked him over.

iwaizumi contemplates what to do next for a good, good while. he tries calling oikawa, only to no success every time; no way in hell is he calling mattsun in the middle of having sex. and calling makki isn't even an option; he'd never hear the end of it.

then you knock on the door, your voice soft and concerned as you ask, "hajime? you good in there?" you hit it spot on, too, "do you need help with your suit?"

iwaizumi presses his palms to his eyes. he's a rational man, straightforward and logical in thinking. there is literally no other option for him right now but to ask help from you. again.

fuck.

.

it's 30 minutes later when oikawa barges in your door, and the sight that greets him is iwaizumi in nothing but a hoodie (the hoodie you borrowed some time ago) and his boxers, with his hands on your waist as you hover your hairdryer over the crotch of his batman costume―cat headpiece off and all.

"you finally got together?!"

[volivolition]

wiggles my fingers at you ouuuu… you want to tell me about solace so bad…

HKJGG wiggles my fingers back lovingly!!! i really do, i fuckin LOVE solace :3 hey did you know i really like making fake skill descriptions?

SOLACE

Follow the north star. Find light in even the darkest places. Cool for: Optimists, Recovering lost souls, Sweet summer children

Solace is the skill you tucked away long ago, at the bottom of Pandora's box. The little one that tells you: despite it all, there is still hope. It needs a lot of nurturing -- and it's far from being the most helpful for police work -- but taking care of it is basically self-care. It enables you to find the glow in yourself that you often ascribe to gold lungs or brilliant halos in others. It encourages you to wake up and watch the sunrise, to play board games with someone you love, to forgive yourself and let yourself be a gentler kind of animal. Constantly looking forward to a brighter future, it also helps shield your morale from damage.

At high levels, Solace gives you a heightened sense of childlike optimism - which isn't always the sense to lead with in this precariously harsh world. Always looking for the bright side will blindside you with naivety. At low levels, however, you may just extinguish whatever keeps your soul alight. You've already lost her once. You may not survive the desolation if you let her disappear again.

[puhpandas]

Veering Off Course

(2,305 words)

Gregory and his family get a call that Vanessa, whos in a different state for college, has gotten hurt. Gregory calls Evan, and Evan is able to use the things he's learned about himself since meeting Gregory to help his friend with his emotions regarding the situation.

Its early in the morning on a Saturday when Evan gets the call. It woke him up, so all he does is blink groggily and swipe at the screen blindly while propped up on his elbow until his thumb hits 'answer' on his phone. "Hello?"

"Evan." It's Gregory, and the serious tone to just that single word clears up Evan's brain as fast as lightning. He scrambles to prop himself into sitting up and rubs at his eyes with one hand.

"Gregory?" Evan asks, looking at the little icon he set for Gregory's contact of a picture of Evan and him at an amusement park. "Is everything okay?"

It takes a second for Gregory to respond, and it causes the anxiety that had steadily began to bubble inside of him to surge. "Gregory?"

"Sorry." Gregory finally answers. "I-- Uh... can you..." His friend struggles for words, and Evan tries to be as patient as possible as it becomes clearer every second something is wrong. "Can you come over? Like right now?"

Evan flounders for words for a second, but manages to force his mouth to say, "Of course."

"Okay." Gregory replies, and a surge of worry shoots through his chest when Gregory sounds like he might cry. He takes a breath on the other end, then, "Please hurry."

After that, Evan only lingers enough to respond with a short confirmation and goodbye before hanging up the phone. It takes him record time to shoot out of bed, sling on some shoes, and get down the street a few houses to Gregory's own.

His mind had played multiple awful scenarios of what terrible thing could have happened the entire time, but his worry does not ebb when he makes it to the porch and knocks on the door to a teary eyed Gregory.

Evan's immediately herded inside. Freddy has his phone in his hand pressed up against his ear, and he's pacing around the room. Aunt Chica and Aunt Roxy sit in the living room. Bonnie is sat in a dragged-over dining chair by Freddy and frowning.

It's dead silent in the house; even the TV and seemingly endless energy flowing through and causing bustling noise is snuffed out to nothing. Evan watches as everyone sits completely seriously and quiet, hands held in their lap or thrumming against something.

Impatience, is what Evan first thinks of. They're waiting for something. News, maybe? Freddy is on the phone. It's so silent you could hear a pin drop. Or somebody else's phone vibrate.

Evan's dread and anxiety only get worse when Gregory shuts the door behind him and tugs on him a bit. Evan follows without struggle, thousands of words and questions on his tongue when Gregory leads him to one of the unoccupied seats in the living room; a loveseat.

He sits down with him, and Gregory's face is scrunched up in barely restrained worry. Evan watches his friend, who's been an anchor for himself for so long, tremble and hunch in on himself. "Gregory?"

Gregory's eyes dart to him, and Evan leans down, hunching forward with his elbows rested on his thighs like theyre their own personal bubble. Evan's own brows furrow, and he feels the familiar thickness in his throat just at watching his friend be upset.

Evan grabs at his hand, squeezing it tight and lacing their fingers together. "I'm really worried, Gregory... please tell me whats wrong." Evan pleads. "Please?"

Gregory nods unsurely after a moment, and Evan watches him swallow thickly before turning to him fully. "Dad got a call from the University of Oregon today."

Evan's brows raise, but he nods to keep going. The University of Oregon is the college Gregory's sister, Vanessa, had left home to go attend. Evan hasnt gotten the chance to meet her, yet. She's already been gone two years strong, with a seemingly bright future. Evan's heard Gregory and his family talk about her enough to know her talents.

Gregory's breath hitches, and Evan wraps his other hand around Gregory's, the one he already has ahold of. He sandwiches it in-between his own and hopes it's enough comfort.

"Somebody called us and told us Vanessa got into a car crash today. On campus."

It's like a bucket of ice water is poured on Evan's head. His feet go cold, and his eyes widen to saucers. Fear shoots like an arrow through his stomach. When he stops reeling from the news, he watches Gregory begin to shake and lose the carefully gathered composure he'd put up since Evan arrived.

"They said..." Gregory's brows are furrowed so much it looks like it hurts. Theres a clench in his jaw and a wetness to his eyes Evan isnt used to. "They said she's already been taken to the hospital and is in surgery." He frowns, and theres a twist in his lip that Evan is so familiar with. "They... a-all we can do is wait. They told us they'd let us know any updates."

The house is thrown back into such jarring silence after Gregory stops talking that Evan's ears start ringing. Which makes it clear as day when Gregory's breath turns harsh beside him.

Evan tears his eyes away from the floor and ignores the twisting feeling in his chest to look at his friend. He has his face buried in the hand that isnt held by Evan and is shaking in a way where you can tell theyre trying so hard to keep it together. Gregory's angled away from him, but Evan can see the panic on his face even from where he can see.

Evan's breath hitches, and the thickness in his throat begins to turn into burning as he scootches closer to Gregory on the couch and sets a hand on his shoulder. He tugs a bit until Gregory gets the message and let's him wrap his arms around his middle and hold him close.

Gregory makes some sort of horrible, upsetting hitching noise that causes the dam to break for Evan, before he sort of flops against him and brings up his own arms to clutch at his T-Shirt. Gregory's head thumps against his shoulder, and it's one of the only times Evan really becomes aware of the height he has on his friend.

"Its okay..." Evan says into Gregory's shoulder, because it's all he knows to do in the moment. He glances around and sees that Gregory's family has shifted to the dining room, leaving them alone. Evan finally feels the tears slip from his eyes as he presses closer, hugging him like his life depends on it. "Its okay, Gregory. It'll be okay."

"It's--" Gregory says, and Evan can hear how much his voice shakes with barely contained tears. "Its not. I can't-- We can't even go see her. We can't go and wait for her to wake up, or anything... we just have to--" He cuts himself off, and Evan feels Gregory shake harshly against him.

"We just have to sit here." Gregory says, voice thick. "I dont know what to do, Evan. I don't know what to do."

And its only that sentence that causes Evan to grapple at what to do, if his friend can't. And all he can think about is how himself would react if it were Gregory getting hurt.

All he'd be able to do is cry, he realizes. He wouldnt be able to do anything. Just wait and be scared.

But that's what Gregory is getting at, isnt he? He can't do anything. That's the thing. Evan has known Gregory long enough to get him. To know, him. Evan knows that Gregory doesnt sit around and cry like Evan does. He prefers to get up and do something about whatevers wrong.

Hes a problem solver instead of waiting around. A fighter instead of a crier. No wonder hes so bent out of shape about this. To have a loved one in danger, and when you're so used to getting up and making a plan to fix a problem and are forced to sit in standby...

Evan eases them down against the cushion of the couch, not once untangling themselves from eachother. Gregory shakes, but he does not cry. "So what would you do if you could?"

The hair from Gregory's bangs brushes against Gregory's neck as he moves his head. "I'd... I don't know. I'd at least try to get to her." Gregory says, voice unbelievably quiet. "At least get to her. Then figure it out from there. Just so I'm not waiting on phone calls."

Evan nods against him, his chin scrunching up Gregory's hair. His tears have long since stopped falling, but he knows he has dry tracks on his cheeks. "You have a plan."

Gregory makes some sort of noise that would sound like a snort in any other circumstances. "I would if I could." Gregory replies, squeezing his arms a bit tighter. "But I cant" He sighs, shuddering and heavy. "I just have to wait."

Evan hums. "You're worried, and you're stressed." He makes the same noise Gregory just did. "I know how you feel... I really do. Maybe not your exact situation, but... I get what it's like to feel helpless." He says. "You know what I would do?"

Gregory hums this time, questionative. Evan rubs circles into his back. "I'd sit there and wait, and wish for it to different. And when it wouldnt be, I'd cry."

Gregorys head shifts against that crook between Evan's chin and chest, almost like hes trying to look him in the eye but the hug prevents him from being able.

"All I ever did was cry." Evan says when Gregory doesnt respond. "Its the only thing that I could do to cope."

"...So..." Gregory asks, and his voice is thick again. "You mean..."

"You're stressed." Evan answers. "You're stressed and you're worried. So... why dont you let it out?"

Evan, out of anyone, knows how valuable emotions can be. He didnt, once upon a time. When everyone would just tell him how annoying it is. How useless it is. How he's asking for it. How he should have toughened up by now. When instead of comfort, he'd receive ridicule and prodding.

That's changed. Ever since a certain someone entered his life. He doesn't think of his emotions, himself so little anymore. So worthless. So maybe that's why Gregory perks up ever so slightly in understanding.

And that's all it takes.

Gregory's trembling turns into shoulder shaking sobs like the snap of a finger. He cries, open and unadulterated, and Evan just hugs him close and rubs his back, offering reassurances like Gregory has done for him so many times.

His own eyes burn when his best friends sobs are heard so openly and he can feel every shudder of his body. Evan's chin scrunches, and the tears fall right along with Gregory as Evan hugs him close, tucking his face into his hair.

"Im--" Gregory cries. "I-Im just so worried about her."

"I know." Evan responds, his own voice breaking as he pets Gregory's hair. His shirt is damp with tears but he doesnt care. "Itll be okay. It'll all be okay."

They stay like that for a while, and Evan can tell Gregory needs it. He needs it. The worry he felt that morning doesnt ever really leave, and it stays ever-present as Evan watches his friend fall apart. They stay stuck together like magnets, eventually only shoulder to shoulder with linked hands on the loveseat, and none of Gregory's family try to peel them apart when they eventually wander back into the living room.

They stay in a state of constant agonizing limbo all day. At 8:00pm, Freddy calls it a night. Gregory protests immediately, but Aunt Roxy calms him down almost seamlessly and convinces him to go to bed.

Of course, Evan follows him. He cant imagine a world where he doesnt. The air mattress stays deflated in Gregory's closet as it has been most of the time nowadays. All Evan has to do is kick his shoes off since he left home in his pajamas anyway and they're wrapped around eachother, tucked in Gregory's bed under his comforter in the dark.

Gregory is silent all throughout the night, even though Evan knows he's awake. Evan just hopes that... he did the right thing. Something knows is that suppressing how you feel isnt good. It never works. No matter how much you want it to.

Gregory taught him that. He just wants to return the favor. Not because he owes Gregory, no. Gregory has long since hammered it into Evan's thick skull that he has nothing to pay him back for. That his kindness is not a deed to Evan, but rather that Evan himself deserves to be treated kindly.

Gregory does, too. Evan knows this with all his heart. Gregory is his best friend and has done more for him than anyone else ever has.

Evan... all Evan did was change. Change for the better. And hopefully he helped the most important person in his life with the things he learned. The things that person taught him.

He hugs Gregory's middle a little tighter, not daring to break the silence. Gregory needs time, but doesn't want to be alone. Evan understands. He does. He just hopes to convey what he truly feels through the one action.

Thank you. I'm here for you. I'll always be here. You're my best friend. I'm so glad you trust me. I trust you as well. So much.

Gregory himself wraps his arms tighter around Evan in turn, and Evan feels like the single movement lso has a deeper meaning he cant read.

They dont speak. They just lay in silence until eventually they fall asleep, stuck together like two puzzle pieces.

ao3 link

[catonatrain]

lets build some memories today and tomorrow too

momoi & midorima | rated g | word count: 1776 | where momoi and midorima go on a shopping trip together

for @mason-ajar for the 2024 @knbexchange !! prompt: character a and character b pick out outfits for eachother

i was super excited to see that we've been paired up for the exchange !! i haven't been able to write in a long while, but seeing your prompts gave me the inspiration needed to to write about a friendship that is just so important... and so here they are!!

read on ao3!!

Momoi was lying on her bed, mindlessly reading a sports magazine until her phone rang. It was too early in the morning for Aomine to be calling her. Maybe it was Kise? 

“Hello?” She held her phone in between her head and shoulders.

“Momoi.” To her surprise, it was Midorima. “There is something I would like to talk to you about.”

“Midorin!” Momoi practically sang. She immediately sat up, abandoning the magazine. “You rarely call first! What is it? Oh, let me guess! Do you need a lucky item? Or are you having boy troubles?”

“No, I am not having, as you say, ‘boy troubles.’” There was a pause. Momoi figured it was Midorima pushing his glasses up. “I also have acquired my lucky item for the day. I need your assistance. Could you accompany me on a shopping trip?”

Momoi felt her already wide smile go even wider. “Of course, I’ll go with you!” She loved being invited to things– be it eating lunches at Maji Burger or coordinating streetball lessons for the local kids. Usually, she was the one doing the coordinating– which, for the record, wasn’t something she minded! But it was nice having the invitation go the other way every once in a while. Especially from Midorima! 

People may think he was someone who wanted to be uninvolved, but it was not true! When luck permitted, he always came to different events like the team’s after practice ice cream trips. Sometimes he needed just a bit of nudging, nowadays in the form of Takao, but regardless, he didn’t often initiate events with her. She’d noticed that lucky item shopping is usually his excuse to hang out with others, but he already got his lucky item of the day. 

She wondered if anyone else was coming. Takao or Kise maybe? She couldn’t help but ask. “Are we going with anyone else? Takao-kun? Or Ki-chan?”

“No, it would just be the two of us, if that would be alright with you.” There was a pause. “I understand that it may be… unusual for it to be just us, but you were the friend that I deemed would be able to help me best.”

“Aww Midorin, that’s so sweet of you!” She could imagine him blushing at the compliment. “Send me the details over email, and I’ll be there in an hour!”

Momoi saw Midorima standing on the outside of the clothing store. He wore a simple dark blue t-shirt and beige pants. He tightly held onto a giant penguin plush. When his eyes met with Momoi’s, his grip loosened. 

She ran up to him, stopped right before him, and started bouncing on her feet. “So? What’s the occasion? What are we shopping for?”

“I… would like your help in choosing an outfit.” He turned his head to avoid eye contact. Momoi knew what that meant.

“So you were having boy troubles!” After everything that’s happened in the past few months, it’s been getting easier and easier to read Midorima and this was no exception. She will admit, however, that she hadn’t quite figured out who’d captured Midorima’s affection. Most people would say it was Takao who held the title as “The Boy Midorima Likes,” but Momoi had a theory she had been brewing up. It was still a work in progress, but her “Kagami Taiga: The Boy Who Has Captured Everyone’s Heart” thesis had a lot of evidence. Momoi would simply have to take into account both possibilities today.

“That would… that would imply that I am struggling, which I assure you is not the case,” Midorima’s face flushed and his voice was louder than usual. Momoi couldn’t help but laugh.

“But you’re not denying that this is a boy-related problem!” She winked. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about Midorin! I understand completely! Whenever I’m with the person I like, I always want to look my best. I won’t ask who it is, but I’ll give it my all in helping you out!”

“I… appreciate it…” 

“You’ll definitely capture his heart, Midorin!” She began urging him into the clothes store. “Let’s go!”

“I think this outfit will be the one, Midorin!” Momoi held up a green sweater with an argyle pattern. “It’ll go great with your eyes!”

Midorima took the sweater to examine it. 

“Besides the color being the same as my eyes, is there anything else to take note of?”

Momoi giggled. Midorima’s questions reminded her of a time in middle school where Midorima asked about her notes and note taking strategies. He was always serious in his studies, and this was no exception. “You want to pick clothes that fit well and that you’re comfortable wearing! Make sure that colors and patterns don’t clash. Like two very bright colors! It can work, but I’m not too sure if that’s what you want to go with.” 

Throughout her speech, she could see Midorima nodding and paying very close attention to her words. “So for the pants, should I go with one of the darker ones?” 

“Yes! Let me choose…” Momoi looked around, surveying each pair of pants until she found one she thought to be suitable. “I think those black pants should work! Check to see if they fit!”

“Thank you.” He gently placed his giant penguin plush down and grabbed the pair from Momoi. “I truly do appreciate the time you’ve taken out of your day to help me with this.” The tips of his ears were red. She found it quite cute, but chose not to comment.

“Of course, Midorin!” Momoi beamed at him. “I’m honored you asked me to help you out with this! I’ll be cheering you on!”

His blush spread to his face. He managed to mutter a thank you before shuffling off to try on the outfit. She sat down to wait for Midorima. Would this be a one time thing? While it was the first time that it’s been just the two of them, Momoi found that she quite enjoyed the experience. With just the two of them, the energy wasn’t as face paced, which Momoi appreciated. Sometimes, she needed the break from the constant running around of her daily life. And not only that, but Midorima had definitely changed. It was easier to understand him now. 

When Midorima walked out, she saw some people began to sneak glances at her friend. Unfortunately for the interested party, his heart had been taken by someone else. She bounced on over and eye’d her friend at all sorts of angles. Midorima stiffened at the attention, not knowing what to do.

Momoi laughed. “It’s fine Midorin! You look great!” She gave him a thumbs up. 

At that, Midorima sighed, finally letting the tension escape. “That endeavor was just as difficult as I imagined it to be.” He pushed his glasses up. “Thank you Momoi for making this trip much easier. Your knowledge was crucial and your guidance saved me a lot of frustration. Is there any way to repay you?”

Momoi thought about it and couldn’t think of anything she needed at the moment. Just spending time with a friend was already a gift in itself. But she knew that he wouldn’t take that as an answer. She placed a finger on her chin as she thought of her options. 

“I want you to pick an outfit for me!”

“I beg your pardon?” Momoi could see the gears running in Midorima’s head. “Do you not already have suitable clothes?”

“I want to test what you’ve learned! Let’s see if you can make an outfit for me.”

“I’m not sure if–”

“C’mon Midorin! I know you can do it! You’re not one to back away from a challenge are you?” With that, Momoi knew she won. 

“Give me ten minutes.” Midorima rushed towards the center of the score, scanning all around to find an outfit that would look well on her. She couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that his penguin plush was tucked between Midorima’s arms. 

“A brown plaid skirt, a white blouse without any patterns, and a light brown sweater that clashes with neither of these colors.” Midorima used his penguin to hold onto the clothes, as its flippers served the clothes like how there’s a waiter serving food at a restaurant. “Is this a suitable outfit?”

“There’s only one way to find out!” It was her turn to try on something new. She came out with a little twirl, “Well, Midorin? I have my thoughts, but let’s check your sense of fashion. What do you think?”

Midorima wasted no time. “For the skirt and jacket, I was hesitant at first since you chose a sweater that specifically matched the colors of my eyes, but the neutral colors appear to coordinate well. I also ensured that the blouse had no patterns. I do believe that it fits the criteria.”

She saw a slight hint of a smile. Was he proud? She hoped so, as she truly did love the outfit that Midorima chose. “But do you think I look cute? Do you think I can capture the hearts of anyone I set my eyes on?”

“You… you asked me for my thoughts and I believe I answered appropriately. Was I incorrect in this assessment?”

“I’m just messing with you Midorin!” She saw the hint of exasperation on Midorima’s face and so she finally relented. “It’s such a cute outfit! I’m impressed!”

“Hmph.” He turned away and began walking towards the cash register. “In that case, let’s go.”

Momoi followed along happily.

Outside of the store, Midorima said, “Thank you again. I found myself enjoying our time together.” There was a pause as he ruminated on what to say next. “I hope we can do this again. I’ve been told it would be beneficial to be the one to reach out more, so I will try to do just that.”

Momoi felt a tinge of tears begin to form, but she willed them away. To think only a year ago, she was wishing for a time where everyone could smile together again. So much had changed, and she hoped  that it would continue to do so. 

“And thank you Midorin,” She gave her friend a very wide smile. “Let’s definitely do this again. But before you leave, you definitely have to tell me about who you like! Come on! Tell me! Tell me!”

Midorima’s cheeks reddened as he tried to back away, but he realized fairly quickly that this was a battle he would not win. “Fine. But let’s do it somewhere else.”

“Of course, Midorin,” she said as she walked with her friend towards their next destination.

notes:

i couldn't decide if i wanted to have hints of midotaka or hints of midokaga bc i like both ships a lot! i ended up just keeping it vague on both ends, so YOU, the reader, can decide who The Boy Midorima Likes is :)

outfits are based on some merchandise art and official art! midorima's outfit is this:

momoi's outfit is this:

[saeshiraw]

tired girl hours i’m just ranting bcos i don’t have enough time to cry

[fitzrove]

Nothing like lying in bed sick w a bad cold and having gender thoughts 😂😭

[mishy-mashy]

WELP got a new BNHA fic idea about the Resistance and an entrepreneurial OC, including:

Kudo is pretty sure the university barista isn't as polite and proper as she seems. Bruce doesn't believe him

"Are you sure you want to be working on Valentine's, Shiki-san?" Bruce looked up at the red streamers hung around. "Don't you have someone to go out with? It'll be really busy with all the couples."

She gave a closed-eye smile, which set off an alarm in their heads as this was very much not her usual one. It was a familiar sensation, being why they stiffened—the instinctive fear of scary women.

"What are you talking about, Bruce? Other than the fact that I have no time for romance..."

Her back turned, fist clenched as fire erupted in her eyes and around her. The aura she let off darkened her surroundings to a noxious blue, and Kudo could swear he saw GOGOGOGO~ characters shrouding her.

"Coffee dates are a classic. I can't turn down this chance to turn a profit......"

Bruce and Kudo sweatdropped.

Kudo likes facial masks

"Are those things really essential?" Bruce deadpanned, watching her stash mask packets away.

"If I ever need a self-care day to relax for a bit," she said.

Kudo put a finger on his cheek, touching the results of the deluxe face mask he stole from her.

"Totally understandable. Shit feels great. I'm smoother than a baby's ass."

"Kudo," Bruce warned, not wanting him to swear in front of her.

"That's why I was saving it. Jerk."

"Jerk who saved your life."

"Kudo!"

Being asked out by All For One while undercover with a fake identity

Her brain stalled.

"Fumi Haruka. Be my woman."

"..... I'm sorry, but we barely know each other. So, a relationship like that is..."

Yoichi didn't want to be here. He really did not want to watch his brother do this right now.

"Brother!!"

... Oh boy.

Yoichi doesn't understand Resistance codenames

"What's your name, dear?"

"Yoichi," he mumbled.

"What would you like to be called?"

"Yoichi."

"...... Alright." She didn't falter, tone as chipper as when she first asked. Similarly, Leader and Bruce didn't even blink as she introduced herself with a codename.

Writing their own domestic fanfiction in a canon-divergent void out of boredom

"I think we should adopt," Yoichi said thoughtfully. "I'd love to give children another chance at family."

"Oh, boy, 'children' plural." She did not miss that little big fact. "What's the limit of children? I don't want more than three."

"I want six," Yoichi hummed.

"More than one," Kudo decided so firmly that he definitely already had a number in mind.

"Only one, because just one is going to drive our house crazy," Bruce remarked as the sole voice of reason. "I wouldn't mind another one when the first is old enough."

"Well, we definitely aren't in agreement."

Going through their theater kid arc while waiting for the other vestiges

"She's the most beautiful girl in the whole town. That makes her the best."

"Damn, Kudo, didn't know that was your motivation," Bruce muttered not-quietly-at-all.

Yoichi still learning his memes

"Are we all cowabunga on this?" Yoichi asked the other holders.

None answered him. Finally, Shiki sighed and spared them all the discomfort of answering. "Yeah. We're cowabunga."

"God, I hope the road works ahead," Kudo muttered under his breath.

"This is fine." Bruce held up a thumbs-up.

En crinkled his nose, keeping quiet. They were his senpais, but, They're so outdated.

The first four holders being old

"Do you think we should call them Quirks now?" Yoichi asked Shiki, turning his head. "It's been long enough. No one calls them Meta Abilities anymore."

"Eh..." She looked away, not partial to the idea.

"We should keep up with the times," Yoichi decided for them.

".. If you think we should," she relented. Yet again, she fell victim to it: no one could say no to Yoichi. "Quirks," she tried it out. "Quirks. We have Quirks."

"No offense, Shiki-tan, but it sounds weird coming from you."

"Bruce, please."

Bruce basically having aneurysms whenever his attention is brought to All Might and Midoriya's health

"I WAS RIGHT."

"Bruce-"

"FORCING HIMSELF TO DO SOMETHING HE CAN'T DO WILL JUST BREAK SOMETHING."

[*Midoriya using One For All for the first time]

[waywardsalt]

bellum x linebeck chapter summary drafts that won those polls:

chapter 8

chapter 14

chapter 20

[alchemiclee]

I hope someone writes a good fic about the high cloud quintet with all the messy pieces of lore we have because i'm very unsatisfied with what we got and I want MORE OF THEM. don't know why i'm so obsessed with this tragic group of friends but 😭 IM SO FEELINGS ABOUT THEM but also empty because they didn't satisfy me with what they gave us lmao I require more. but that was the end and i'll never get more....unless someone writes a great fic about them.....!

[cringecanto]

future fics that have a good premise but comphet marriages

[tickle-bugs]

This is probably going to be long lol so sorry You outdid yourself with the beetlejuice story! I am the anon who requested it and I am absolutely blown away. Everything about it was just pure perfection (including the way you described the musical compared to the movie and your disclaimer for beetlejuice and Lydia shippers) and I laughed out loud so many times. The vibe was exactly like the musical and it was just perfect. The characters were written so perfectly and so much like how they are in the musical. I loved the little Easter eggs like the spin your own yarn kit and the kombucha. Also, a coin collection is such an Adam thing to have. I love how you wrote Adam and Barbara’s relationship and how you wrote them as characters. The way you wrote Barbara was so flustering and wonderful and I am here for it. It was so cute and so accurate. Also beetlejuice eating the game pieces made cry from laughter it’s such a BJ thing to do. The back and forth between BJ and Lydia was just perfection especially how lydia described the maitlands 😭 and her saying she will bring bj back to life just to kill him. This is my new favorite fanfic I have ever read. Thank you so much for agreeing to write for beetlejuice! It was amazing

*cradles this in my hands* this ask can fit so much serotonin in it

First of all, thank you for swinging by to share this with me!! It always warms my heart when the original prompter comes back ;w; I'm so so so glad you enjoyed the fic. Thank you for requesting it!

This is like BEYOND sweet I'm blown away. This musical has a special little place in my heart and brain so it was a blast actually getting to bring parts of it to life!! I really love the way everyone's personalities shine through in the show ahhh!!

Listen. I wanted them to list more attic things in 'Barbara 2.0'. I know Adam and Barbara have the most USELESS stuff in their attic that they constantly just shuffled around until they died. If you made the kombucha and it tasted like armpit why did you keep it, please--

Also I just really love Barbara and Adam as characters?? They're really endearing to me. My favorite pottery barn and dry white wine duo. Had they lived any longer they would've hung a 'bless this mess' or 'live laugh love' sign above the door. Just a wifeguy and his beautiful wife. They both think mustard is too spicy but they'd go full poltergeist if a teenager called them dude. they're so!! yeah <3

AND YES BEETLEJUICE!! I'm so grateful to have seen the show live a few times because like. alex brightman (who played beetlejuice) always did and improvised the smallest but most random things and his mannerisms really stuck with me. There was a night where both he and Adam's actor (i believe he was a swing? or the adam after the original) kept messing with each other and they both broke character during 'fright of their lives' giggling like children and i was like yes. this is the vibe i need. BJ's the living embodiment of 'never let em know your next move'. He's super super fun to write. my beloved wretched little goblin <3

BJ and Lydia's friendship is truly so special to me they're just both so weird. It's one of the main reasons that I love the musical so much--you know where the show is going if you've seen the movie but you really feel like BJ and Lydia could be friends. It's sweet. She's got ghosts in her attic and they care about her, what more could she need?

Also LMAO I'm glad you thought the disclaimer was funny. I made myself laugh writing it. I've unfortunately always gotta put disclaimers on certain things I write but I figured lets at least have some fun with it hehe

ALSO ANON LOOK AT ME. LOOK. NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR LONG ASKS IT MAKES MY DAY!! seriously like!! the fact that you were moved enough to write this much about my silly little fic means the actual world for me. never ever apologize, there's nothing to apologize for <3

[the-kipsabian]

also who wants to take up the task to hold me responsible for actually writing fics this week, i have so much to do and i havent touched anything since monday i think ough

[hailsatanacab]

43

43. Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

Ooooooooh uh.... would fully love to do a major whump! All hurt, minimal comfort, and so much angst.

I have a wip in the works titled "lmao literal torture danny fic feat. duke the sunshine boy" so uh. It's happening, at some point 🤣

fic ask game

[jmflowers]

I just accomplished a bunch of things I needed to do before bed, so I vote we celebrate with an instalment of "I wrote this stuff and then discarded it from Risk"!

In trying to figure out how to have the dad thing factor into the story, I wrote like 5 or 6 different iterations of it coming to light. This is one version that I liked but decided against using because I wanted Risk to be told entirely from Carina's third-person point of view and this negated that. It was super fun to explore the relationship between the kids as teenagers, though, and this push-and-shove dialogue has become the backbone of writing them in their older years.

We'll call this: "prompt #17" (I guess). You can read it below the cut...

Despite their best efforts, Andrea and Beatrice haven’t quite managed to cover the entire kitchen table with their combined homework. A small patch of wood peeks out from the space between them, untouched by the wide array of tech they’ve spread out. Andrea groans, slamming a finger against the backspace button on his keyboard as he rubs at his forehead.

It’s become a routine now that high school requirements are plaguing them both. Quiet Friday evenings before the moms get home are perfect for sluffing through as much schoolwork as possible. Andrea misses the days of cartoons and popcorn, though; when they’d sneak all the sugar they could before grown-up eyes came through the door with dinner and disapproval.

“You getting anything done?” he sighs, leaning back on the kitchen chair to get a better view of his little sister.

Beatrice is hunched over her tablet, the stylus in her hand swirling around in mindless circles. She exhales loudly. “I think if I doodle any more, I’ll have to go pro.”

That settles it. Andrea closes his laptop, finally admitting defeat. “How was practice?” he asks as he rises from the table, crossing the kitchen in search of something to clear his head.

“It was good,” Beatrice answers, the stylus still swirling. “Coach says my arms are getting better.”

Andrea pulls open the fridge, scanning the contents for something that isn’t better suited for a life inside a protein shake. Unsurprisingly, he comes up short. “You’re supposed to run with your legs,” he jokes, switching his attention to the freezer.

“Ha, ha,” Beatrice says, tossing the stylus onto the tabletop and turning around in her chair to watch as Andrea digs through the freezer. “There’s some gelato under the peas if Mama didn’t finish it already,” she suggests.

“Yes!” Andrea rejoices as he uncovers their prize. He pushes the freezer closed with his foot at the same time as he stretches to grab two spoons from the cutlery drawer, his long limbs already rehearsed in years of this kitchen tango.

Beatrice accepts a spoon as he drops into the chair next to her, depositing the gelato container on the empty corner of the table. They’re quiet for a moment, both shoveling oversized scoops into their mouths. It’s not quite as good as the gelato they’d had last summer in Italy but it’s sweet and cold and not homework.

“There was a scout at practice today,” Beatrice murmurs after a while, once the brain freeze has slowed her shoveling.

“Oh yeah?” Andrea answers, still focused on his spoon.

“Yeah,” Beatrice nods, “Kate says they’re probably looking at the juniors already.” She draws her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it slowly as she thinks.

Her brother notices that, though, smirking as he shoves the gelato tub in her direction again. “That make you nervous?”

She scoffs, shoving it back. “I’m a freshman.”

Andrea shrugs, pulling the tub into his lap as he scoops up the final few bites. “Crazier things have happened, B.”

“He talked to me,” she whispers, fingers dancing across her spoon with the jitters of nerves and excitement and confusion. “He knew my name… Me.”

For the first time since he’d started eating, Andrea stills, spoonful of gelato halfway to his mouth. He gathers himself again quickly, shoving it between his lips and standing up. “Just the one scout?” he asks, “Isn’t there usually a few scheduled to visit a meet or something?”

“Andrea,” Beatrice groans, throwing her head back against the chair, “I didn’t ask for three parents.” She flips her spoon up into the air above her head, catching it before it can collide with her face. “He just came over and talked to a few of us while we were stretching. It was nice.”

“Okay,” Andrea shrugs, leaning over the sink with the now-empty gelato tub.

“It doesn’t matter, anyways,” Beatrice continues, flipping the spoon again, “He’s a long-distance coach and I’m a sprinter. It’s basically two different sports.”

Andrea turns on the tap, rinsing the tub slowly beneath the steady stream of water. “Long-distance?” he asks, swallowing roughly.

“Yeah,” Beatrice laughs, “Mom probably would’ve loved to talk to him. They could’ve gotten each other all riled up about endurance and race snacks.” She flips the spoon once more, but her aim is off just a little and it misses her grasp, clattering against the tile floor.

Andrea jumps at the sound.

Beatrice sighs, rolling off her chair to retrieve it. “He even said he’d trained an athlete who went to the Olympics,” she chuckles as she strolls across the kitchen, dropping her dirty spoon in the sink. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Yeah,” Andrea whispers, “Crazy.”

~

It’s a typical Friday night dinner; takeout containers spread across the table, Beatrice babbling away animatedly about her day and forgetting to eat. Andrea sits at the other end, more focused on his meal than the chatter, quiet until his little sister finally relinquishes her hold on their mother’s attention.

Carina watches as it unfolds, as Maya nods along to everything their daughter has to say even though she’s probably only half-listening, as those familiar blue eyes of her wife’s dart up every few minutes to find her own. They’ve barely had an hour together in the same place all week, between the track meet and their work schedules and Andrea’s college fair, the requirements of motherhood taking precedence as usual.

“And what did Mr. Harcourt say?” Maya prompts, smirking as the question launches Beatrice into another tirade, their daughter barely pausing for breath as she tells the story.

Carina finds herself looking to Andrea instead, analyzing the slope of his shoulders as he hunches over his plate. He’s been not quite himself all evening: his smile not quite reaching his eyes, his posture not quite as upright, his fingers busy tapping at his thighs more than is typical.

When Maya looks her way again, she holds her gaze, left eyebrow lifting as she tips her head towards their son. Maya frowns in response, her jaw shifting side to side in acknowledgement. Something on his mind.

They’ve been looking at colleges for a few months now and the process has been weighing on him, Carina knows. Even though he still has time to decide, he can’t seem to settle on a major, which makes picking a school more difficult, and the added pressure just seems to be dragging him down.

Their sweet, sensitive boy has never been one to flourish amidst change.

“Andrea,” Carina interrupts, halting the string of Beatrice’s thought before she can launch into another tale of freshman drama, “How was your day?”

He shrugs, eyes still on his plate. “It was fine, Mama.”

“Lots of homework?” Maya presses, reaching across the table as if she’s only half-focused on him, too.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “That essay is due on Monday.” He bookends the sentence with a forkful of chicken, taking his time to chew.

“You got a lot done earlier, though,” Beatrice pipes up, tossing him a wide grin from the opposite end of the table, “Didn’t you?”

Andrea nods, still chewing.

“Was that before or after you got into my gelato stash?” Maya teases, lifting her own fork in accusation. Beatrice’s nose crinkles in response, those big brown eyes of hers sparkling with mischief. Andrea smirks, his cheeks colouring.

“My gelato,” Carina corrects, leaning into the banter in the hopes that it’ll lower Andrea’s guard for at least a few minutes. A good joke can do that sometimes; drag down his armour long enough to get out what’s racing through his mind.

It warms her inside, this intimacy of their family. That Maya, too, knows that letting Beatrice talk through all of dinner will mean their daughter can settle into the calm of their home with a clear head. That Andrea needs laughter when his mind is swirling through a scenario he can’t work out on his own. That even now, when their children are teenagers who sit at either ends of the table, they can still read them, still decipher them, still look at each other and communicate the rhythm needed to reach them both.

It's intoxicating, this synchronicity, and it makes her want to lean across the table and pull Maya into a kiss.

“I’m the one who hid it,” Maya argues.

“But you hide everything in the same spot,” Beatrice bickers right back.

“Yeah, cause none of you ever touch the peas!”

“Why don’t you tell Moms about the scout, B?” Andrea suggests, derailing their banter. He looks up expectantly when he says it, wide eyes and an encouraging smile filling his face as he stares at his sister.

Carina watches as Beatrice squints at him, clearly attempting to deduce his motive.

“A scout?” Maya asks, eyebrows rising comically high up her forehead, “At practice?”

“Uh, yeah,” Beatrice nods, still focused on her brother, “Getting an early look at the juniors, I guess.”

“Sophomores, too, probably,” Maya adds.

Beatrice pales at the suggestion, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth. Unlike Andrea, their not-so-little girl has a pretty solid idea of where she’d like to go after high school, already watching as the seniors embark on the track scholarship pipeline she’s begun dreaming of. It’s not pressure, she’d assured them all over dinner a few weeks ago, Just a goal.

“But he was a long-distance coach, right?” Andrea continues, feigning nonchalance. He falls a little flat of his target, though, his eyes flicking upwards to Beatrice’s face too often to not declare the obviousness of intent behind his question. “Didn’t you say he coached someone who went to the Olympics?”

Maya stills immediately, the muscles in her arms tightening so minutely Carina’s certain she’d have missed it if there weren’t decades of memorizing her wife under her belt. There’s a tightness in Maya’s jaw when she goes searching for her gaze, every inch of her body suddenly on high alert.

Andrea swallows roughly beside his mother. “What was his name again?” he asks.

Beatrice shrugs, completely oblivious to the rising temperature at the table. “I don’t know, something obnoxiously running-related,” she grins as the memory resurfaces, digging back into her food with a renewed vigor, “Kate kept snickering about it after.”

“Track?” Andrea suggests.

Blonde hair swishes as Beatrice shakes her head, food finally making its way into her mouth. She doesn’t answer as she chews but her eyes flick up towards the ceiling, attempting to remember.

“Dash?” Carina murmurs, watching as Maya’s throat bobs.

“Mmm-mmm,” Beatrice hums.

Maya’s mouth opens slowly, her fingers tensed on the tabletop. Her voice is flat when she speaks, so cold and so un-Maya that it makes Carina shiver. “Lane?”

“Yeah!” Beatrice laughs, “Can you imagine? I think I’d rather be named starting block or sprint.” She brushes a wisp of loose hair behind her ear, somehow still unaware of the change in energy occurring around the table.

Forever in her own little world, their Beatrice.

Andrea, however, ducks his chin, abandoning his fork on the table as he shifts backwards in his chair. Maya doesn’t look at him, doesn’t look anywhere but at the plate in front of herself, muscles winding themselves tighter and tighter with every second.

He’d asked about his grandfather the summer before last, when a traipse through the basement for some camping supplies had unearthed a photo album he’d never seen before. The pictures had been cute and untroubling at first; braids and braces and Maya’s triumphant grin. Until Andrea had turned to the last page and Carina had caught sight of Lane Bishop for the first time in more than 15 years.

She’d tried to tread carefully around the subject. Tried to convey as gently as she could the reason their children have never known their grandfather, the reason that Maya never speaks his name in their home. But he’s receptive, their son, and far smarter than she sometimes knows what to do with.

Andrea understood it seemed, even then, that Lane Bishop wasn’t a person to ask his mom about, nor a name to blab to his little sister. Carina had been grateful when he’d tucked it away inside his mind, despite the swirl of guilt in her gut at her own selfishness. There’d been too many years of therapy, she’d rationed, too much time spent burying his memory to dig it back out again.

Only, Andrea doesn’t forget.

And Maya’s father will probably always be a festering wound.

“You are not to speak to that scout,” Maya manages through a jaw so tight her mouth barely opens.

Beatrice scoffs, the sound dying only when she finally looks up at her mother in the millisecond before she’s about to protest. Her brow furrows, eyes darting around the table as she takes in the tension that’s looped its way into everyone else. “Oh… kay,” she mumbles, “What did I miss?”

Maya swallows and it looks so painful Carina feels her heart clench in response. The desire to reach for Maya flares loudly, a voice screaming in her head to grab her hand or round the table to pull her into her arms. But it won’t help, Carina knows, won’t do anything but speed up the inevitable unraveling or spark the explosion.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Andrea whispers.

“It’s okay,” Maya exhales, “You didn’t do anything.”

Beatrice squints, her shoulders hiking up towards her ears with sudden nerves. “Did… did I do something?” she murmurs.

“No,” Carina soothes, reaching for Beatrice’s hand instead. She squeezes at their daughter’s fingers and smiles as softly as she can manage, suddenly desperate to spin time backwards a few minutes. “We just…” She trails off, unsure what to say.

Maya swallows again, drawing in a slow breath. “I need a minute,” she mutters, rising from the table. She’s gone in a second, disappearing up the stairs and leaving the wide, panicked looks of their children in her wake.

“It’s okay,” Carina soothes immediately, patting Beatrice’s hand, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She reaches for Andrea as she gets up, too, leaning over to press a kiss against the top of his head. “Either of you.”

The voice in her head is getting louder, screaming that Maya needs her.

“Should I go check on her?” Andrea asks. It really is a family curse, the incessant need to take care of others; it’s printed into Andrea’s DNA, even though she didn’t mean to put it there.

“No,” Carina murmurs.

Even though she meant to shield them both from this.

“I’ve got her.”

[gluion]

in this weird spot of just having too much ideas but not knowing where to start or how to furnish them really…