#this has been unfinished in my drafts for four months

[arcadiabay]

There wasn't a time I didn't have a brother.

[battydora]

pov: you sit on their crotch in middle of the night

masterlist | rules

nsfw content, minors dni !

characters: edgeshot, overhaul, hawks, shigaraki (s1)

content: nsfw, dry humping, drabbles, fluff, afab!reader, gn!reader, adult reader!!, slight somnophilia, established relationships, teasing, reader refered as "princess" (overhaul), dubcon & degradation kink (shigaraki)

synopsis: you wake up horny in the middle of the night and your partner has to deal with it.

a/n: this was a random idea i had inspired by that csm gif, besides i needed to write other characters to avoid writer block. enjoy!

a/n 2: this has been sitting unfinished on my drafts for three months omfg, it's here finally.

— shinya kamihara / edgeshot

certainly you weren't imagining you'd be opening your eyes to look at the night stand clock to find out it was four in the morning, specially thanks to your wet cunt which was having its fun inside your naughty dreams. wet and hot sounds repeating in your head as you remembered every detail of the dream. your cheeks were red and your thighs rubbing against eachother, in hope to get some friction for your needy and slick clit. you sighed, taking a look at the other side of the bed, finding your partner peacefully sleeping next to you. of course you would be bothering him, after all, he's the one your cunt was begging for and, of course, the one starring your erotic dreams. you lost no time, you got him to lay on his back to climb your way onto his crotch. you grinned in triumph before spitting your words.

"shinya" you called, no one answered "shin...~" you called a bit louder, yet in a softer tone, grinning sweetly to yourself and slowly moving your hips, in hope to wake the man up.

the third call was enough to have the hero slowly open his eyes, his mind trying to catch up with the context and why he felt a heavy presence above him. when his eyes were fully open, he analized the entire scenario, trying to figure out what was going on. why were you on top of him? why did he feel something wet on his boxers? what was with that grin on your face?

"mhmm you're awake~" you said innocently as you stared at your significant other's clueless expression.

"dear, what is the matter...? why are you awake?" he asked, watching carefully your moves "and why are you on top of me...?"

"mmh, you could already tell" your hips did another, gentle move against him, a subtle touch enough to confirm shinya's theories, his eyes widened and his cheeks turned pink "i know it's late but... i'm feeling some type of way, you know~?" you stated before actually grinding your hips to a paced rhythm over him.

"oh i see... n-no wait" was all he could mutter before gasping softly at the feeling on his crotch. he griped your thighs gently, shutting his eyes closed. this was certainly unexpected, but the hero fails to resist, it's really been a while since you've been intimate, he admits he was feeling in need lately "love..." he muttered again.

"you like it, babe?" you asked, resting your hands on his abdomen, your arms made the right pressure on your sides, making your breasts press against eachother, the view left the man breathless.

"very much, beautiful” he caresses your thighs so lovingly, squishing them from time to time. his cock slowly growing harder inside his boxers, the wetness between your legs was slowly driving him crazy, needy and melodic moans slipping out of his mouth, making your cunt twitch "can i make love to you?" he asks with no hesitation.

"until dawn, shin~"

— kai chisaki / overhaul

your boyfriend was never a heavy sleeper, you knew it. if you tried to move during nightime even to change your position, there was a chance he'd open his eyes to check nothing weird was happening. but god, tonight was different, your cunt was dripping like crazy, you were silently rubbing your thighs hoping some friction would help. it didn't help. actually it made it worse. having erotic dreams with kai involved was such a turn on, it made you so hungry for him.

you couldn't help it anymore, you decided to make a move. you turned to your sleeping boyfriend who laid on his side, he looked so cute asleep, you wished you could see this calm in him often, too bad he was going to be woken up for this atypical purpose. you gently grabbed his shoulder and made him lay on his back, waking him up almost instantly.

"what are you doing?" his sleepy and grumpy voice complained, eyes slowly opening as you made your way on top of him.

he opened his eyes fully and stared at you sitting on his crotch, kai hummed, this was uncommon he thought and didn't quite know how to react at first due to his sleepy numbness, he felt something wet and hot on his clothed cock, rapidily deducing the reason behind your behaviour.

"i see" he said "it's too late for this, go back to sleep" his response left you astonished and outraged.

"aren't you going to do something about this??" you frowned, frustrated by the thought of kai not taking responsability for the problem he didn't know he caused.

"i am not" a grimace planted on your face "now get off me, your wetness is making me feel... weird" he stared at the union between your crotches, you definitely were wet, your fluids already moistened your underwear and now they got his own wet aswell. you didn't want to give up, you didn't want to end up masturbating alone without chisaki's touch, that wasn't fair (to you)

"so you're not taking responsability for what you did?" you teased with hope.

"...? i'm failing to understand your accusation" he frowned, now offended, how could his sleep being interrumpted in the middle of the night by you be his fault?

"you can't just play around in my dreams, there's no way you get to rail me nonstop and have me all messy and whiny beneath you while i cry out your name" your hips grinding over him again "jeez, i even felt bad for having overhaul being the one to fuck me so hard, i felt i was wasting his time since he is always so busy planning on destroying hero society. how could i be fine with myself knowing i'm just the king's little slut?"

the mention of his alias was something he could hardly ever resist to, every single statement of yours where you refered to him as someone superior and powerful was such a tease, specially when it was about sex, he owned you and you know he owns you and the fact that he was able to get that idea inside your dreams, fuck, he suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline through his veins.

"king's little slut, huh?" he consulted, despite hearing you clearly.

"mhmm, i'm your little slut, all just for you" you continued to tease him, rubbing your cunt harder against his clothed cock.

kai's gloved hands grasped your thighs, pressing them tightly, roughly one might say, making you grind rougher above him. you moaned outloud at the constant friction against your heat, you were almost hitting an orgasm and he knew it.

"tell me who you belong to, princess" he demanded, now digging his nails in the skin of your ass.

"you darling, i belong to you and you only~!" you moaned out, reaching a fast paced rhythm against his crotch and reaching an orgasm sooner than you ever did, sighing and whimpering in relief for your release "oh my god~" you threw your head back, rubbing again slowly against him to feel the last bits of orgasm you had left.

"thank me, princess" kai demanded once again, staring at you with those deep and sinister eyes, feeling his ego reach a new level at the view of you crumbling above him with little to no job.

"thank you, overhaul, thank you so much~"

— keigo takami / hawks

"babe?" was the first thing he said after waking up to you sitting on top of him.

"oh fuck, thank god you're awake..." your voice moaned in a desperate tone.

he was noticeably concerned for a moment but the second he realized what was actually happening, his concerns vanished being replaced by a deep blush on his face. he was speechless for a moment and stares down at his clearly soaked boxers and your clothed cunt grinding against them. your pussy was aching and so needy, you've been rubbing against him for at least ten minutes now.

"s-sorry for waking you up like this, baby... it, it was too much for me t-to handle it without you... sorry" you apologized, you let your head down in total embarassment and shame, only for keigo to reach your face with his hand and speak.

"hey, hey, pumpkin it's alright, i'm not upset, i was just caught off guard" he makes a pause before he grins, looking down at you "how's my little pussy today?"

"it's sore... and wet, i need you, babe, i really need you..." you whimper, your knees and thighs were aching from constantly moving like that.

"shh, i know, babe" he caresses your cheek lovingly as he whispers "imma give you all you need, just follow my lead~"

— tomura shigaraki (s1)

the quiet room was filled by small and gentle moans, not exactly from you, the one grinding their cunt against shigaraki's body, but from him, who was unconsciously getting a boner in his sleep, his dreams suddenly taking a suggestive turn before a loud groan left your mouth, finally waking him up. his eyes widen rapidly at the view of you sitting on top of him, rubbing your clothed pussy on his also clothed cock, which was already hard from you constantly rubbing it in his sleep.

"what the hell are you doing?!" his tone of voice is craspy and startled, he is sure he has never been in this position with you before.

"oh you're awake. finally, i've been trying to pleasure myself for the past 20 minutes, you're a heavy sleeper aren't you?~" your tone was an amused one, you were definitely teasing him as you continued to move on top of him.

"gah, stop that's disgusti.. ah!~" his voice breaks at you jumping slightly on his cock once, you laugh at his reaction.

"ah, yes, try to stop me shiggy, i bet you won't be able to, cause you're so pathetic and weak, you can't even take usj without failing misserably" every single one of your insults made his cock twich in excitement and anger, he can't help but groan at you, irritated.

his hips suddenly lifted towards you in a pathetic attempt to keep you moving, which you didn't allow, you pressed his lower abdomen with your hand, keeping him in place.

"oh don't even think about it, we're doing this my way, you annoying bitch~"

[inmyloveworld]

i'll look after you (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~1.3k

synposis: "don't think, just do," was a challenging mentality to live by. but bradley quickly finds there is a balance to be had between thinking and doing.

warnings: allusions to anxiety, work abuse, overthinking

a/n: another hurt/comfort, who's surprised? this has been sitting in my drafts with an unfinished smut ending for a month but i’m electing to post without it as i’m not confident in my ~other~ writing abilities yet.. enjoy!

It was rare that the Navy ever let its aviators off early for the day; even more so for the elite members of Top Gun. Yet, with the clock barely stroking past a sunny four, Bradley was reclined on the sofa with a beer in hand. The house was spotless thanks to a shared cleaning spree the day prior. Nothing could have made for a more perfect turn of events.

But Bradley was pondering on the few texts he'd received that day. They were void of any of the color and character he was used to. None of the words exaggerated their spelling, and periods punctuated every short sentence. Everyone had once remarked him as a chronic overthinker both in the air and on the ground. It was easy to dismiss the gnawing he felt in his gut as the remnants of that mentality.

So, he cracked a Heineken and let himself indulge in uncommon solitude. The flat screen played his favorite drama to placate his mind. A subtle hunger led to perusing online menus for takeout ideas. Every little bit of stimulation was a welcome distraction from his pompous presumptions.

And then he heard it: the abrupt slam of a car door. Fumbling footsteps made their way to the front stoop followed by a clamoring of keys against the painted wood. Bradley grinned as he awaited the arrival, even through the slight tug of worry in his chest.

He watched as you stumbled inside without care. Shaking hands hung up tightly gripped keys and those same fumbling feet kicked off their shoes in frustration. Your shoulders rose and fell sharply with every short breath.

Was I overthinking?

Bradley had yet to see your face, had yet to meet those eyes always bright with excitement. Your face remained tucked toward the wall with each passing second. Swallowing his hesitation, Bradley spoke over the TV. "Baby?"

Your body reacted in shock, jolting up as your head whipped around.

I wasn't.

Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. Said cheeks were splotchy, proof that these tears were far from the first you'd shed that day. The bright eyes he adored were puffy and red. Their brightness now was not out of joy but sorrowful watering.

Bradley's heart clenched tightly. "Oh, angel," he cooed, hurrying to displace his Heineken to a coaster and mute the TV. You had little time and no energy left to fight his comfort. As your boyfriend stood before you with open arms, you crashed into them.

He wasted no time in embracing you. Sobs broke past your wobbling lips and muffled against his shoulder. "I've got you, babe," Bradley soothed. "I've got you, it's okay. Just let it out."

All you had ever wanted was for someone to support you whenever life put you through the wringer. Bradley felt it a great privilege to be that support, knowing you'd do nothing short of the same for him. He almost cursed himself for letting his insecurities derail his intuition for you, but dismissed the old habit of self-deprecation. Nothing mattered more in this moment than helping you get back on your feet.

"I- I didn't know, you'd be ho-home," you blubbered. The comment irked something in him. How long had you been coming home in a similar state, putting yourself together just in time for him to get home? Were there more despondent texts or other warning signals he hadn't picked up on?

Each hypothesis built a greater desire to look after you, and to follow up on any twinge of doubt he felt. He needed not only to think but to take action on what he thought. "Shh, none of that, baby. None of that. You can always let go around me, okay? 'Can always tell me what's bugging you."

The words lifted heaviness off of you little by little. You cried more at the safety you felt in his words. Bradley guided you, leaden-legged, to the couch. He sat first before gently tugging you atop his lap.

Warm palms rubbed against your cheeks to dry them. Warmer brown eyes sunk into yours, unconditional love seeping through every glint of gold. "Do you wanna talk about it now, or later?" Though not wanting to let your feelings fester, Bradley didn't desire to press you for answers.

He watched as you took in a steady breath and nodded slowly. "Work's just.. just been really frustrating." You sniffled before continuing with anecdotes of being overworked and underappreciated.

Bradley continued to rub softly at your skin as you spoke. His lips pressed assuring kisses to your temples at times you got too worked up to continue. He gave every ounce of care and attention he could to your stories as you vented them out.

You slumped forward in his hold as you finished with a heaving sigh. Another soft kiss was pressed to the crown of your head. "Thank you for telling me, baby." His hands took up rubbing up and down your arms to help ease any remaining tension.

Bradley wasn't sure what he could say or do to make any of this better for you, to help resolve your problems in one fell swoop so that you never had to feel this way again. At the same time, he wasn't sure that a fix-it attitude was what you wanted or needed.

Don't think, just do.

"I want you to know that you're amazing. You work your ass off in everything you do without any promise of reward, and that's really admirable." You lifted your head slightly to see him, to see the sincerity dripping from his praises. "But you deserve recognition for it. It's not fair that you're continually overlooked for fuckheads who don't do a fraction of the shit you do. And it's not fair that you're made to feel so much less than you're worth. I'd kick all their asses if I could." His empty threat broke a small giggle from your lips as grateful tears replaced those of frustration.

Bradley returned your smile with one of his own before resuming a serious tone. "You don't ever have to put on a show for me, okay? I want you to know you're safe to come to me with anything, even the littlest complaints that you write off as whining. Do you ever think I'm whining about Jake getting on my nerves? Or Maverick getting too tough with me in the air?"

"Sometimes."

"Okay, that wasn't the best example." You laughed again, louder this time, and Bradley felt his chest swell with pride. He leaned forward to catch your lips against his, softly, allowing you to take the reins. The kiss stayed soft and sweet as you melted against him. Soft breaths filled the space between you as you parted, resting foreheads against one another. "I'll always look after you, angel. Don't forget that." You nodded in agreement before kissing him once more.

"Thank you."

🏷️: @avengersfan25

[maple-the-awesome]

Twilight's Calling ||

Pairing: Twilight x GN! Reader

Words: 2,544

Requested by anonymous: Heeey. First of I love your writing style! It’s just amazing! Cause twilight is my fav. could you maybe write something like xreader with him, for example they’re in a battle or smth? Only if it’s okay ofc! Thanks a lot and have a good day and week! best wishes :) Twilight may or may not be my favorite Link, too (TP was the first game I finished, so I'm a little bias, okay?). I've had this draft lying around unfinished for awhile, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to finish it. Here you go, hun 💜

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's getting pretty late. 'Late' as in the sun has long set and the last time you saw any of the boys was about an hour ago when Time finally managed to herd the remaining stragglers out of the room, although he was being a bit hypocritical seeing as he still lingered in the doorway for a good minute himself afterwards (not that you dared comment on it).

Since their heavy footsteps had faded into silence - and aside from the innkeeper sometimes shuffling down the hall or a sudden 'pop' of the bedside candle - you've been left entirely alone with your thoughts as they dance on the very edge of sleep, but you refuse to lose balance. It's your shift. You promised to be a good lookout and it took a lot of convincing to even get the position, so you can't disappoint no matter how heavy the weight upon your eyelids or heart is.

You've always been well aware of the risks that would come with this mission and from traveling alongside nine heroes of legend; troublesome young men and boys who can definitely handle themselves in battle, however none immune to making possible mistakes. You expected one to occur at some point, yet never wanted the aftermath to be anything too serious.

Wild getting a decent scar on his forehead was a scare when it initially happened, but he was back on his feet within the hour - less than that actually, because if you remember correctly, his quick recovery had been controversial and resulted in quite a bit of bickering. The bottom line is that Wild bounced back with little to no trouble thanks in part to his thick skull. This is different. Twilight has yet to follow his protege's example and it's been hours.

You must admit you underestimated the situation at first due to a lack of context. It's not to say you didn't care about Wolfie when he got struck, however there's a notable difference between a wild 'pet' that occasionally trails your group and the very man you've grown to secretly admire over the months you've spent traveling together. If you had known then that they are one of the same, you would've likely shared a similar level of panic as the Champion, but instead you were left in the dark until Four finally explained Twilight's secret to you.

Even at that moment, although more worried, you figured everything would be okay. Wolfie or Twilight, a fairy should be able to do the trick to heal the worst of injuries, so one can imagine your heartbreak once learning that, for some odd reason, the state of his wounds haven't changed even under a fairy's sacred touch. That's when you truly became fearful, but you refused to show it outwardly - no more than whatever made itself present on your face, anyway.

Making a fuss won't aid Twilight's condition nor will it calm the concerns of your friends, so instead you had mostly stayed out of the way until Time announced everyone should get some rest. At that point, you made your presence known, quick to shoot your hand into the air while volunteering to take the first shift for watching over Twilight. Champion was the only one to fight you for it and honestly, you still aren't certain how you won the argument, but here you are, sitting quietly at Twilight's bedside while trying desperately to keep yourself from descending into madness as you fret over his well-being.

He's doing somewhat better after Hyrule's magic managed to stop most of the bleeding, however his wound remains deep without any further healing progress and his skin is drained into a pale, sickly color clear even through the dim glow of candle light. He looks like shit and you'd guess he feels like it, too, seeing as his face curls into a pained expression every now and again, a whispered groan leaving him whenever he slightly shifts his body (not that he moves that much).

It's gotten a bit chilly tonight, however all blankets in the room have been laid over him and you refuse to swoop as low as to steal comfort from a dying man, so you simply keep huddled to yourself, half praying the next shift will come sooner and half praying it won't because a stubbornness inside you is somehow convinced that the simple act of you being here will keep himsafe from death's hands.

You don't pay much attention to the quiet groan that comes from the bed, having already bitterly accepted that there's nothing that can ease whatever pain haunts Twilight during his nightmares, although you do lift your head when a hand shakes its way into view, barely able to carry itself to the edge of the covers where it collapses with a broken echo from its owner, "W...What time is it?"

You almost cry simply by the sight of Twilight's dull eyes staring up at you, half-lidded and only appearing bright if compared to the dark bags hiding underneath them, but you manage to hold back the tears for the sake of not scaring him.

"I-I'm not sure. After sunset," You answer slowly as to prevent any wobbling to your voice.

"And the others? Is every - everyone else okay?" Hylia, he sounds awful, his once handsome, accent-laced voice butchered by a hollow croak.

"Yeah...Yeah, we're all okay - and don't worry about the shadow. Wild managed to take it down - thanks to you tiring it out, I'd say. You sure gave that thing a run for its money there," You attempt to joke lamely. Although your laugh doesn't carry much life to it, Twilight's expression does soften a tad after the sound.

"...Good..." Is all he says before closing his eyes with a sigh through his nose. Meanwhile you fidget nervously, debating with yourself on whether you should let the conversation die off so that he can continue getting rest or keep him talking while he's able to. You sure do love hearing his voice, after all, no matter how broken it may be; it reminds you that someone as great as him is actually real and, after recent events, still alive.

In the midst of your depressed thoughts, you notice Twilight reach his hand out towards you again - or at least it looks like he's trying to. Really, he only has the strength to lift it palm-up slightly off the covers, yet you understand this movement's wordless request. Ever so gently, as if he's made of glass, you take his hand and sandwich it between both of yours. He's a bit too cold for your liking, a sharp contrast to his normally warm touch, not that you draw attention to that worrying detail.

"...Is there anything I can get you?"

He tries to shake his head, but loses will halfway through the action and instead chooses to simply let his head lull to the side towards you. From there he stares for a bit longer than he means to, his dazed brain struggling to process his thoughts at its usual speed.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," You allow a small smile, slowly reaching forward to help move his bangs away from his face, "We're all taking shifts throughout the night. I was just lucky enough to get the first."

Twilight hums, closing his eyes for a brief second when your fingers brush his forehead, "How'd you manage that?"

"Barely. For a second there, I thought I was gonna have to duel the Champion for it - had my hand on my sword and everything before he finally caved," Twilight makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh which makes your smile more genuine even if he does flinch in pain immediately afterwards, "The real question is how I won against Time...Actually, I wouldn't be that surprised if he's secretly standing outside the door as we speak."

A creak of old floorboards in the hallway makes your eyes dart to the door, almost expecting the man in question to walk in and call you out for your jokes, yet you calm that doesn't happen. Twilight brings your attention back to him by moving his thumb against your hand, "Don't tell 'em, but I'm glad it's you here. I like having ya' here with me..."

You press your lips, hoping it'll help you ignore the heat against your cheeks. That must be the first time Twilight has ever openly said he 'likes' anything related to you; you're certain you'd remember any other instances of such a milestone. It might not be the exact sentence you'd want him to use the word in, but it's a step in the right direction, so you'll take it.

"I like having you here with me, too, Twi...which is why I've officially decided that I'm too selfish to let you die on any of us. I don't care if I have to fist-fight Hylia for it; I'm not letting you get out of this journey so easily."

"That right?"

"I swear it on my life."

He chuckles weakly, although the sound is taken over by a fit of coughing. Promptly you pour a small glass of water using the pitcher kept on the bedside table before gently helping him sit up to take a careful sip.

It's insane for you to think that only a few weeks ago, you had been secretly watching him move hay bales at Time's place effortlessly. Now he lies here in bed struggling to hold a conversation, his muscles shaking horribly by the simply action of prompting himself up even slightly. Seeing him like this makes you feel awful, but you also consider yourself blessed to be the one taking care of him during a low point like this, ensuring that he's properly cared for and tended to almost like a spouse would.

"Seems like I'm starting to lose you, farm boy. You should relax and get some more sleep," He makes a face and seems prepared to argue, however he must not have been able to think of anything convincing to say - that or the aching in his bones has become too hard to ignore. Either way, instead of saying a word, Twilight nods droopily before inching his way back down against his soft pillow while you fix the blankets over him again.

"Look on the bright side: make it through this and you'll probably get special treatment from here on out. Get your bags carried for you, have whatever meals you're craving be made each night...If you hobble around a little I'm sure you could even get Time to fuss over you -"

" - And what about you?" Twilight quizzes and you can't tell if he's being serious or just teasing. It feels like the latter, yet the way he watches you while awaiting your reply makes you feel another way; soft and warm, but a tad anxious at the same time, "What can I get from you?"

You pretend to think, although in truth, you already know there wouldn't be any limitations for what you're willing to give. If he asked for the world right now, you'd figure out some way to gift wrap it for him...but that's too embarrassing to admit aloud, "...Depends on what you're thinking and if you can swing it the right way."

He hums, once again staring at you just long enough to make that anxious feeling really prominent. Is there something on your face that no one told you about earlier? Is he judging your messy hairdo that you had no time to fix since the battle? Did you sound too flirtatious in your answer? Maybe his injury has given him the ability to read minds, so now he knows just how desperate you are to earn his affections!

"...If I asked you to stay with me, would you?" Twilight whispers so quietly that you barely hear, yet you do. 

"I, uh...Time will be here in an hour or so for his shift, but I won't go anywhere until then, okay?" Not even your poor excuse at smiling can save your stumbled words, yet you pray he doesn't look beyond either. He's loopy from such a stressful day, so it makes sense that he's have trouble properly wording questions. It also makes sense for him to be scared to be left alone - anyone would be in such a state. He doesn't have to worry, though; between you and the boys, someone will always be by his side throughout the night. You'd expect that knowledge to be a relief for him, however Twilight only frowns and looks away with a surprisingly depressed look in his eyes. 

Fiddling nervously with your hands upon your lap, you ask carefully, "...Unless you're wanting me to watch over your for the whole night? In that case, I wouldn't mind staying if it would make you feel better. I'm sure the others would be fine with it if they could just check in here and there."

Twilight presses his lips, refusing to look directly at you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that based on his continued reaction, you're still somehow missing the point of his question, yet no matter how much you rack your brain, you can't think of what else he would've possibly meant.

You were tempted to ask for more clarity, but Twilight speaks before you can, "...I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

He nods bashfully which melts your heart in a way you're sure would be shamefully clear if he were only looking in your direction.

"...Well, since you took one for the team -" Scooting your chair closer to the bed allows you to cross your arms over the mattress and rest your head on top of them. Desperately you try to ignore your nerves and the cute way Twilight curiously looks over at you, "- I'll stay for the night if you promise me one thing."

"Hmm?"

"Stay with me, too? Without you, I might just loose my mind. Don't tell anyone else, but you don't drive me nearly as insane as some of the other boys do," not in the same way at least.

The corner of Twilight's lips turn upwards, his hand taking it's time to move over yours. The second it makes contact, you take the chance to hold onto it, "...Sounds like a deal..."

You match his smile easily, "Get some sleep, Twi. I'll be right here when you wake up, so just focus on getting better for me, alright?"

He hums one last time, drifting off to sleep as commanded where he seems to be far more peaceful than earlier. As promised, you remain by his side until morning, eventually falling victim to quick naps yourself only disrupted whenever someone else sneaks into the room to see how things are going. You're certain you'll be tired tomorrow with an aching back after spending an entire night hunched over, but that's a small price to pay for someone like Twilight. It'll all be worth it to see him recover, granting you even more time to spend by his side through thick and thin.

[poppadom0912]

By my side

Characters: Kelly Severide x Platonic!Reader, Matt Casey x Platonic!Reader, Sylvie Brett x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: Toxic men, abuse, protective firefighters.

Summary: You should've been better but at least your family is by your side.

A/N: For the sake of this, there'll be two ambulances which means two PIC's.

This has been sitting in my drafts for months unfinished and I suddenly decided to finish it after work on the train. Also couldn't be asked to proofread so sorry for any mistakes!! And I know this aesthetic thing sucks but it's been a long day and I'm tired, so sorry again. 😅😅

Being a paramedic had always been your dream.

Growing up in a first responder household: firefighter dad and patrol officer mum, paramedics were a constant presence around them. So, it was only natural that was were you gravitated towards.

Following this, working at firehouse 51 was a given since that was where your father was a Captain at till he became battalion chief and moved to another house.

Your family had history in this house, making it somewhat sacred ground for anyone who shared your family's surname.

Yes, there had been times when you had to prove your worth and that you weren't a nepo baby but your family in everything but blood were always somehow five steps ahead of you.

So it only made sense that when you started to skip going to Molly's and skimping on details about what you did during your day offs, that they were concerned and confused to say the least.

Six months later, after nearly holding an intervention, you introduced everyone to your boyfriend Mason.

It was safe to say, everyone had their suspicions, even after being together for a year. All of which you excused, diverting and switching blame.

*****

You thought that you were finally happy with how everything in your life was settling but all of a sudden, fate decided that stability wasn't necessary for you.

Shouting and constant arguing should've been the first sign, blaring as bright as the sun, warning and shouting at you to break it off before reaching the one year mark but you briskly ignored it and marched on.

Then, the drinking problems, anger problems and impatience were made alight when you started living together. (he invited you to move in with him when celebrating one year together)

You found yourself not liking the man he started becoming the longer you were together. It irked you to no end and you constantly were skittish around him, finding it harder to have a civil conversation with him the more time passed.

It seemed that your feelings somehow transferred themselves over to your work life because you were suddenly snapping at the stand-in paramedic for Sylvie when she was sick for a petty reason.

The PIC in you forced you to immediately apologise before Kelly dragged you into his office, Matt following without a word.

Naturally, the three of you including Sylvie had a bond of 'commanding officers' as you were all in charge in some degree and over several years, the work relationship blossomed and the four of you were as thick as thieves.

It also helped that Matt and Kelly worked with your father and knew you from their pre-firefighter and your pre-paramedic days.

Under their concern filled gazes, you found yourself crumbling, eyes all of a sudden filled with tears from the stress of it all.

They couldn't help but confirm their fears which you tried to deny incessantly, for some reason defending Jason and explaining that this could all be fixed and everything would be back to normal in no time.

If only you didn't.

*****

Over the past year, everyone found you changing.

The stern but loving PIC you once were had become but a memory. It was as though you were a shell of your past self, something of which you agreed with.

Mason was draining the life out of you and the only time you weren't losing yourself to him was during your 24 hour shifts before being surrounded by him for the next 48.

You tried your best to leave, you really did but at some point in your now two year relationship, things took an abrupt turn and Mason had become this toxic, controlling man who has a newfound urge to resort to violence when you were being your true self.

Being PIC meant you had an amount of power under your title and after many years of work, you had perfected your nature. It's why you and Sylvie were so good at what you did; you used force when necessary and compassion was always on hand.

Over the course of the past year, you found yourself on the end of many interventions held by Matt, Kelly and Sylvie.

With all the reasons in the world, they argued and argued with you, laying out the easiest ways to break you free. They were as desperate as you were at this point to get you to break up with Jason. They missed and needed the old you back.

Unbeknownst to you, they schemed behind your back, trying and failing to convince you to leave Mason for good but you found yourself pathetically laughing at them before going home to endure hell.

You struggled to understand your behaviour. Abuse to this degree was something you never you experience firsthand and you would never wish it upon your worst enemies.

On sleepless nights, you constantly contemplated why you wouldn't leave. You wanted to, you really did but then you could hear him whisper in your ear and you remained firmly glued to his side.

So badly did you want to rip your arm out his earth shattering grip and run back home, to the safety of love and familiarity.

Your final decision was set in stone when he finally made his mark a month ago, fingertips bruised into your wrist when he wouldn't let you leave his car in front of the firehouse.

"Alright then, thank you for dropping me off. I'll see you tomorrow." You said, pressing your lips together in a tight smile, hand reaching for the door handle while the other fiddled with the handle of your tote bag.

He replied with something, you weren't too sure because you were already out the car, closing the door with practised precision and gentleness.

Your expressionless face brightened at the sight of your colleagues/friends/basically siblings at this point. The firehouse and all its inhabitants were truly your saving grace and without it, you weren't too sure where you would be.

Just as you were going to walk up the apron to meet them halfway, you were being pulled back by a random force. It was so sudden that you dropped your bag, your things spilling out as they rolled away.

You yelped, attracting the attention of those who weren't previously paying attention to your arrival in their mortal enemies car.

Scrunching your eyebrows, you turned to Mason in confusion, your eyes following the hand gripping your wrist to his face you were once infatuated with.

"What the hell Mason?!" You said with gritted teeth, trying to escape but he wouldn't let go. "Stop, your making a scene."

Before he could reply, several shouts came from behind you and before you knew it, you were being pulled into comforting arms as big and bulky men dealt with Mason.

"Oh Y/N." Sylvie's heart melted for you while it ignited in flames because of Mason. With your bag in one of her hands, she somehow collected all of your things, she brought you into her arms and hugged you tighter than a koala.

"Let me see your hand." She muttered under her breath, unbothered by the fuming men huddling around you in a protective barrier, on guard as they watched Matt and Kelly deal with Mason on the street.

She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth at the finger shaped bruise on your wrist, you copying her when she lightly touched it. Despite her angelic exterior, you saw a red glint flash across her eyes, one you rarely saw but had seen several times before on the rare occasion.

If this was her reaction, then you were dreading Matt and Kelly's.

And your feelings were very much justified because as soon as they sent Mason away, you found yourself being subject to a very strong worded conversation.

They played the role of overprotective brothers perfectly. With the help of detectives who you were lucky to call good friends, your plan was set in stone and would take a week to fully come together.

Despite how meticulously everything was planned, you somehow ended up in the emergency room. Surrounded by doctors and nurses you recognised, you felt their sympathy and felt nearly emotional with the care that greeted you.

Thanking Maggie, you smiled and watch the charge nurse leave but you weren't alone for even a minute before three certain people came barging in.

With wide eyes, they drank in your slouched figure.

Matt looked alarmed, Kelly disgruntled and Sylvie on the edge of a breakdown.

You choked out a watery laugh, harshly swallowing back tears as you shook your head and blinked repeatedly. Releasing a shaky breath, you felt your chest tighten as your oxygen was constricted before it was all treated when enveloped in the loving arms of your 'siblings'.

Had it not been for your intense emotional state, you would've barked out in laughter at the anger displayed by Kelly who imitated a caged lion, Matt who spewed words Hank Voight would find offensive and Sylvie who played parts of a mother comforting their daughter but also Satan prepared to burn and punish sinners.

Your pain was muted by their presence alone. With their constant love and never-ending companionship by your side, you were sure to heal.

[femboyhorror]

trans dipper vent fic - preview/unfinished rough draft

this isn't really my usual sort of posting. mainly b/c it's not art it's writing. a ventfic at that. but i figured maybe some gravity falls fans might follow me and enjoy seeing this unfinished piece. written as a way to vent out some stress i've been feeling, contains some trans!dipper angst.

cw for some menstruation descriptions, cramp descriptions and some implied abuse from the twin's parents.

.｡ ☽ ⋆⍋⍋｡⍋⍋⋆ ☾ ｡.

the bus ride to the forests of oregon was just as long and boring as he remembered it to be. after hours of sitting in the same seat next to his twin he felt a strong need to move his legs and his back was hurting something fierce.

and yet as he watched the scenery in the window slowly change from long wide plains to towering pine trees a sense of comfort made itself known in the boy's heart. a sense of safety that he had sorely missed in the months that dragged by.

once his eyes caught sight of the familiar 'welcome to gravity falls' sign, he felt a smile spread across his face. one that his sister mirrored.

home. they were finally home.

as soon as the bus came to a stop the mystery twin duo practically jumped up out of their seats. ignoring the brief shouts from the bus rider about staying put until the bus was at a complete stop, the twins darted out of the vehicle to meet with the equally as excited faces of their grunkles stan and ford.

"grunke stan! grunkle ford!" the two had greeted in near unison. mabel, ever the far more energetic of the twins, didn't hesitate to jump stan in a hug.

"whoa whoa there kid, you tryin to kill your old man?" the codger had grumbled out in protest, though the way his own face breaks out into a bright smile as he wraps his arms around her show that he missed her just as much.

"welcome back, my boy." ford had cooed as he and dipper embraced in a much calmer hug. emotion swelled in dipper's heart, and he responded through a knot in his throat,

"i'm glad to be back."

'my boy' he thinks. because that's who he was. here in gravity falls, he was no longer some little girl. he was a beloved great nephew, he was a brother, he was dipper pines. the relief behind these thoughts make tears spring to his eyes, and to his relief if ford notices his emotional moment he chooses not to comment on it.

"alright, i don't know about you two but i'm just about ready to have breakfast. and i'm guessing you two dinguses hadn't eaten yet, either?" stan spoke up to which mabel chimed in,

"i mean, duh! we wanted to have a reunion breakfast!" stan let out a faux yawn.

"well, i guess i could make us all some stancakes, but i better not catch you trying to add in some weird candy dinosaur things to the batter, kid!"

~ ~ ~

breakfast between the four of them was nothing less than a lively affair. despite stan's warnings, mabel had naturally managed to turn her own pancakes into what dipper could only described as a rainbow colored death wish of syrup and sprinkles.

and despite his lack of breakfast, dipper himself could barely do more than poke around his own smaller serving of stancakes. between a dull ache in his body and remaining pain of the events from back in california made the concept of eating a wholly unappealing one.

while stan and mabel were too distracted with their own conversation to pay this any mind, dipper sees ford shoot him a brief look of concern which he quietly waves off.

once breakfast had been finished, their grunkles assured the younger twins that they had the dishes taken care of and shooed them upstairs to unpack their things.

"hey, dipper?" mabel's words break through the brief moment of silent unpacking that had taken the two in the attic, her unusually soft tone feeling like a harsh reminder of everything that had happened before their arrival back at the small oregon town. "don't you think we should tell them what ha-"

"no." he cut in harshly before quickly adding, "i just… i don't think i'm ready to relive that whole mess just yet…" he sighs and adds in, under his breath. "i just want to be able to be dipper for a while…"

"you know you'll always be dipper to all of us. stan and ford wouldn't treat you badly for being different." the words 'unlike mom and dad' hang in the air, unsaid but understood by both parties.

dipper looks down at his half unpacked suitcase, the shouts of his parents echoing in his mind as he swallowed down the knot in his throat.

"i will tell them, just…" he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his shaking voice. "…just not yet."

a part of him almost expected mabel to push him to tell them, to say that honesty is the best policy and that he would feel better once he explained everything. however, mabel simply put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

~ ~ ~

the dawn of the first official day of summer began with excrutiating pain in dipper's lower gut signaling an unwelcome crimson visitor.

several days of dull pain made the blood shed that morning not all that surprising, and yet he wants to sob as he cleans himself up in the bathroom. of course. as if his present situation hadn't made his dysphoria bad enough already, mother nature would taunt him further with her wholly unwanted and unwelcome visit.

forcing the added stress and pain to the back of his mind with everything else, he pops some pain pills and tries not to let his agony show as he slowly wanders down the stairs. immediately he's aware of the smell of smoke and he follows it to the kitchen to find the source to be a pan of half burnt eggs. stan seems to be attempting to teach mabel to cook with… mixed results. dipper simply shakes his head and takes a seat at the table where he sees his great uncle ford nursing a cup of coffee, seemingly unbothered by the duo's antics at the stove.

"good morning, my boy." he had greeted dipper before furrowing his brow. "are you feeling alright, you look pale." he added, the boy's pain evidently not being hidden well enough.

"i'm fine, grunkle ford, just… tired is all…" he assured, even taking an apple off the table to eat despite the fact that eating was currently the last thing he wanted to do. robotically he forces himself to take a bite out of the fruit as his great uncle continues speaking.

"well, dipper, i was going to ask if you wanted to accompany me on a walk around the forest, but if you're not feeling well enough than we-"

"nononono! we can go for a walk if you want to." he quickly cut in. despite his current state making him want nothing more than to lay in bed with a good book, dipper really doesn't think he wants to spend the day alone in his room. even if the cramps kill him, he really wants to spend time with his family. ford seems surprised by his answer but quickly recovers.

"oh! alright then, we can go after breakfast if that's alright with you."

"sounds good to me, i'll go grab my shoes!"

the apple would be left forgotten on the table.

~ ~ ~

the gravity falls forest is a beauty to behold. the morning sunlight streams through the canopy of the trees above and the life of the forest around the two of them makes itself known through the chattering of the birds to the gentle trots of the deer to even the little bugs and other odd beings that live in the strange forest.

ahead of dipper, ford is happily going on about the different sorts of flora and fauna in the woods, about the new creatures that seemed to have appeared since the last summer and pointing out anything of interest to his great nephew who tries his best to listen as he trudges alone but it's difficult to focus on much of anything through the haze of pain radiating from his lower gut.

he sees ford stop in place, looking to dipper with barely hidden worry.

"dipper, are you sure you're feeling alright? you know you can tell me if you're hurt, right?" ford had asked, and between the genuine care his great uncle was showing him on top of the pain he was still in it was taking all of dipper's self control to not burst into tears right then and there. he can just barely nod in response. his great uncle doesn't seem to buy it one bit but aside from a tense sigh he doesn't push the issue and continues on their trek.

as he forces himself foward to keep up with ford, the hunger and pain seem to mix into one big blob of bad that seems to seem into dipper's very bones. he doesn't know how long he goes on for until he finds himself leaning against a tree, holding his midsection as the pain felt like knives stabbing into him mercilessly.

"dipper, enough is enough, you need to tell me what's…" his greak uncle's shout of panic trailed of and pure shame filled dipper when he realized why; trails of blood were running down his legs.

dipper, suddenly filled with pure shame, could only look away in embarrassment. inwardly he wished that a hole would open up underneath him. for the earth to swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to face ford after he saw him like this. although dipper had mostly grown out of his hero worship of his mysterious lost grunkle after weirdmageddon, ford was still someone he had a high opinion of. and now that he saw dipper like this… was he disgusted of him? ashamed? would he regret letting dipper come back to visit? the thought finally brings tears to his eyes.

before he can spiral further, however, he feels ford's hand on his shoulder.

"dipper, dipper, can you look at me? …i'm not mad, dipper, i just need to know if you're alright." he briefly looks up and through his tears he sees that ford's expression betrayed no digust or shame or even so much as frustration. his expression was simply that of a caring family member that was deeply worried about him.

"do you want to go back to the shack?" he simply asks. dipper nods, a feeling of guilt settling into his ribs at the thought that he might've ruined their outing.

"dipper, it's alright, we can go on a walk another day." ford, seemingly reading dipper's mind, gently assured him. no other words were exchanged on the way back to the shack, and it wouldn't be until the two were settled back home with dipper able to clean himself up did time come for some explaining. stan and mabel, who quickly seemed to catch onto the quiet mood around the other two, had also chose to be present for it. and despite dipper's humiliation over the whole situation, he was thankful for his twin's added presence of support as he readied himself to come out, desperately hoping for it to go better than it had the last time.

"…my name wasn't always dipper…" he starts after a moment of thought. looking up for a moment, both of his grunkles are attentive and patient, and so he summons the courage to continue. "growing up, i always felt like i wasn't supposed to be a girl. even when my parents told me that all girls feel that way. and i started to realize that maybe i wasn't a girl at all…" he remembers one sleepless night when he discovered the word that would change everything for him. 'transgender'. suddenly he wasn't some broken mess of a person, suddenly he understood himself in a way he never had before.

"when my parents send me and mabel here to gravity falls, i realized it could've been a chance for me to see how it felt to be seen as a boy for the first time. and when i started using my new name, when everyone was calling me a boy i felt so happy. i felt- i felt like i was finally who i really am for the first time in my life." the memories of the first summer in the town he would come to see as his home brought a smile to his face. and despite all the trials he'd gone through in that summer, he truly felt like he had grown into a strong and proud young man by the end of it all. "i'm sorry for not telling you all sooner." from his spot at the table, stan seemed to take this in.

"kid, i kind of figured you were trans…" dipper looked up at this, face flushed with embarrassment once again.

"you knew?!" he squeaked out and stanley put his hands up in mock surrender.

"i was there when you goobers were born, after all. when you two got off the bus that summer and you were introducing yourself as dipper i just kinda put two and two together. s'not like i've never been around trans people before, kid."

"what my brother is trying to say is that we both love and accept you no matter what." dipper feels a weight lifted off his chest at both of his grunkle's kind words.

"see, dipper, i knew our grunkles wouldn't be like mom and dad."

"mabel, what do you mean by that? did your parents not take it well?" the way the younger twin's moods fell at ford's question was an answer in of itself, and not a good one. mabel's expression changed to that of a barely restrained anger and dipper shrinks in on himself.

"i… i hadn't told them much about it before going to gravity falls. i was just trying to figure it all out then, but i guess our parents caught onto me being out during that summer. not long after we came back they had a lot of questions and kind of backed me into a corner."

[quordleona03]

A Priest in Korea is Moving to the AO3

Many years ago, I was friends with Scarlatti on Livejournal, and I found she had written a whole lot of M*A*S*H fanfiction (twenty stories! That was a whole lot back then!) using the name Iolanthe.

I read all her stories - mostly Hawkeye/Mulcahy: as far as I know, she was the very first person ever to write Hawkeye/Mulcahy slash stories - and I loved them and I started seeing Hawkcahy in the series and one of her stories gave me the idea for the story that eventually grew into Sins and Virtues.

She read the final part of S&V only in first draft - I started sending her sections as soon as I had finished them - because Susan had cancer, and she died, four months before she would have turned 40. Her website, A Priest In Korea (William Christopher's description of M*A*S*H was "Oh, it's about a priest in Korea") fell into the Wayback machine, and last year, thinking of her stories again and looking for them, I found a complete snapshot of her website, and I thought "I could transfer this over to AO3 and let everyone read them: I bet they have a process for that".

They do. Julie was my Virgil as I walked through the Open Doors and now a priest in Korea has moved to AO3: A priest in Korea03. The longest story on site isn't even a Hawkeye/Mulcahy story: it's a Francis Mulcahy & Margaret Houlihan story, Polarity, which uses "a creaky old sci-fi plot device" to put Francis into Margaret's body and Margaret into Francis's -

He grew even more uneasy under the appreciative once-over with which Dickinson now favored him, and a blush warmed his face. When he caught sight of Houlihan's sidelong glare, he wondered how she -- or any other woman, for that matter -- would normally handle that kind of attention.

"Well now, Major, I can see you're a take-charge kind of gal," Dickinson drawled. "Meaning no disrespect. But your C.O. would have my head on a platter if I sent you off without an armed escort. Ain't that how you got into this mess in the first place?"

And the next-longest is also not precisely Hawkeye/Mulcahy, Playing the Game: The night air was pleasant and warm, and I was enjoying the mind-fuzzing effects of several beers, so my pace was unhurried. I'd almost made it to my tent when a man stepped out of the shadows behind the nurses' tent and latched onto my upper arm. "Hold it right there, Mister Vatican," he hissed.

I knew who it was without needing to see his face. No one but Colonel Sam Flagg, alleged CIA operative and all-around loose cannon, had ever addressed me in that fashion. I froze obediently, though my heart was racing and every instinct was telling me to flee for the hills at the earliest opportunity.

"Got a few questions for you," Flagg went on.

(sadly, now and forever unfinished, but rather in the sense of "there should have been more" than "ends on a cliffhanger")

She wrote what is still (as far as I can tell) the only Henry Blake/Trapper story, one of the few Radar/Hawkeye stories, and also Trapper/Mulcahy.

But mostly, she wrote about Francis Mulcahy falling in love with Hawkeye, and Hawkeye's gentle reciprocation.

Between us, we somehow managed to get the tent door open and cross the threshold. At that point, I expected Mulcahy to say goodnight and go pass out in his bunk, which is what I would've done, but instead he had a surprise for me.

As soon as the door closed behind us, he turned in my grasp until we were face to face. Before I had time to fully register what was going on, he'd looped his arms around my neck and was pulling me forward into a kiss.

It was, I think, the softest, sweetest, most tender kiss I've ever received...and one of the most inexplicably erotic.

What can I say? I loved her stories. She inspired me to write Hawkcahy long before that shipname was invented. I never got to meet her. I'd like you all to read her stories, and thanks to Open Doors/AO3, there they are.

They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead, They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed. I wept, as I remembered, how often you and I Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky. And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest, A handful of grey ashes, long long ago at rest, Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake; For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.

This is sort of a sad post, but it shouldn't be: Susan was hilarious, and it's been a pleasure and an honour being her archivist.

Thanks, Susan.

[03josten]

hi friendoo. i saw your post about fics and i was wondering if you had any aftg fic recs. i remember you recommended me once "under the kitchen lights" and nothing beat that fic since...i reread it so many times...

roro u know this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i didn't want to post it until i was satisfied but it was just gonna rot here if i didn't post it now. i'll add to the post if i think of any more.

just linking these in the order i find them or think of them, some of them are unfinished and older

Neil never made it out of Baltimore.

Six years later, Andrew has his life together, more or less, but he's far from okay. When Bee convinces him to change the scenery and go on a trip around Europe, he knows this isn't going to fix anything.

Except, he's sitting on a train in Switzerland across a ghost who's staring at him with a familiar crystal blue gaze and no spark of recognition in his eyes

Neil has temporary amnesia, and Andrew is disconcertingly attractive. This is especially disconcerting because Neil was pretty sure he didn't swing. Nicky is endlessly pleased by the entire situation.

Andrew Doe had been on the streets since getting released from an Oakland juvenile facility six months ago. He'd made his way down the California coast, and had been living in a homeless encampment on Venice Beach for the last two months. He'd made a decent life for himself and felt relatively safe and settled--until a boy with a worn-out duffel bag and haunted eyes appeared at his corner of the beach and threw his life into chaos.

Andrew becomes a cliché and joins a travelling circus after falling for the pretty sword swallower.

A year post-canon, when they thought they were safe, Neil goes missing.

Neil dug into the bag, through the snacks, and stared. In the bottom was a bottle of red hair dye. Not natural red, like Neil's, but something more… firetruck. It was darker than that, but that was the closest word Neil could think of.

"Oh," Neil said dumbly. When he looked up, Andrew was already looking at him.

"Oh," Andrew mocked.

Andrew and Abram meet in California, only for him to be wrenched away by the Moriyamas - until he shows up at PSU four years later.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45407749

Neil desperately does not want to talk to her. It doesn’t matter how many times Andrew tells him Betsy is very good at her job and could do a lot to help him; Neil doesn’t need anyone rooting around in his brain trying to fix him, thank you very much. He knows he’s fucked in the head, but he’s been dealing with it by himself for his entire life, and he’ll keep dealing with it on his own until the day he dies.

But Andrew is exactly the problem, today, and as strong as Neil’s dislike for Betsy is, he knows that if there’s anyone who can advise him on how to approach this…issue, it’s her...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45405370

Andrew finally lets his emotions in - the good and the bad.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45297673 this one is SEXY

Yes or no?" Neil asked as he pulled away, a grin on his face.

Andrew contemplated. He felt good. He had woken up comfortably, and the presence in bed beside him hadn't set him on edge. Him and Neil had been together for years, but sometimes he still woke up and put space between them. Neil always understood, but there was a crease in his brow for the rest of the day whenever it happened. Today was a good day for Andrew. Not just okay, but good.

"Yes," Andrew decided.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42678765/chapters/107211447

The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine.

It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend.

It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him.

And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45106720

The Monsters come to Columbia for the summer. There is lemonade and sweet tea, video games, ice cream and Andrew in muscle tees and short shorts. Neil is having the best summer of his life.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625013/chapters/67588202

Neil joins a band, gets laid and starts a mob war.

Andrew met a guy at a bar. Sort of. He had a one night stand with the guy he met at a bar. Sort of. Then said guy he met at a bar and had a one night stand with became a regular hook-up. Sort of.

Now the guy he met at a bar who became a regular hook-up after a one night stand keeps a toothbrush at his place.

Sort of.

Fuck.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47047513

"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." _____ Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47005483

A hot guy moves in downstairs. Allison sees him first.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46988053

Andrew was a southern boy, through and through.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46033726

After an upbringing lacking in mundanity, Neil just wants to live a “normal” life. He’s got a home, a circle of friends, a job — why not give casual sex a shot?

Neil tries out poetry and he and Andrew are disgustingly in love.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47394898

Neil is on just a few more drugs when the Feds come to the hospital after picking him up from his father's basement, and doesn't cause enough of a ruckus to get the Foxes brought to his hospital room. Stuart takes him back to England instead.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47377012

Just falling in love.

(I've reread this fic maybe 8 times...10/10)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39298077

Neil's adventures in playing for the world's crappiest college Exy team, featuring highlights such as a meet-ugly of star players Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard, a tour of all three of Ohio's thrilling sights, copious amounts of shit-stirring, the mystery of an undead house plant, arguing about Pokémon with a guy he met online and sometimes hooks up with and definitely doesn't know in real life, forced team bonding, a date at the Mothman museum, charcuterie boards, and many more.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47515573

Someone's taken a dick pic in the arcade photobooth. Detective Andrew Minyard is on the case.

Andrew and the Idiotic, Thirsty, Ill-advised, Very Off-Limits Crush on his College Roommate's Younger Brother.

(a fav of mine. highly recommend)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20650433

Four million words, written across hundreds of journals. But one of Andrew Minyard's decoded stories outlives the rest. The story of his forbidden love, Neil Hatford.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42831054

This is the story of Neil and Andrew post “The King’s Men” and spans 12 years. It’s about their sexual journey – every baby steps, missteps, and gigantic leaps. It is also (and perhaps more importantly) the journey of how they stay committed throughout it all, made visible in the little things, and bigger, grander gestures. Most of this is a mix of canonical facts and my own take on their future. A few of the scenes include: the night following the championship game, Andrew allowing Neil to get him off, Neil getting fucked for the first time, the handcuffs scene, Andrew moving to a new city while Neil has to stay at Palmetto for his last year, Andrew bottoming, Nicky’s wedding, and Andrew and Neil’s public coming out far, far in the future, followed by a crazy Fox reunion.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47370928

Every hair on his new body stood on end as he quickly patted himself down, finding a wallet in his back pocket but nothing else until his shoe caught on the strap of a duffle bag, half buried in the sand under his bench. He yanked the bag up beside him, giving it a quick shake to loosen the sand clinging to the canvas fabric, before turning his attention to stripping the wallet bare. He decided quite quickly that his other half was an asshole. There was plenty of loose cash in his wallet, but not a single personal item of any manner. No ID. No bank card. No pictures of girlfriends or family. Not even an old receipt stuffed in the bottom. At the very least, life hadn’t disappointed him with how shitty things could get.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34885285 this one is also so sexy ur welcome

Neil and Andrew have always been inseparable since the day they first met in seventh grade - when Neil was Natalie and Andrew was no longer a Doe. They grew up side by side, sharing everything with the other - everything besides their feelings for each other. But now they’re nineteen and eighteen, and after Andrew kisses Neil, they begin exploring a side of each other they never thought they would. Well, that, and they still aren't sharing their feelings for each other too.

[ambersgiantpanda]

I just had a boost of inspiration, and I wrote a Christmas HOA one-shot with Victor in thirty minutes lol

I'm not gonna post it until actual Christmas I think, because I wanna upload it when everyone has that special vibe of late December and holidays and stuff, maybe I'll even post for a Secret Santa thing if our fandom is gonna have one this year (and ofc I'm gonna have to edit it properly because rn it's just a raw draft), but it just happened and I have it on my laptop...

But why does it work that way, huh? How come I have like ten unfinished non-Christmas one-shots and four multichapters in process that I cannot bring myself to write, but my brain decides to generate a completely new story that I won't be able to share for another four months??? What the actual fuck??

And by the way, are we gonna have a Secret Santa thing this year? Cause I really want it. I'm not new in the fandom, I've been a fan of HOA for about seven years now, but I am relatively new on tumblr and AO3 and I missed the last year's thing... which is kinda sad, because I started to post my works right after Christmas 2023 and I've been waiting since then to finally join the fic exchange

[zarvasace]

PROGRESS POST

(12/18/23)

If you're interested in what I've done recently, the state of my projects, and what I plan on doing in the new year, read on! :)

By Fandom

Linked Universe Projects

Shatterproof: I have more backstories cooking, and a half-finished fic or two, but that's about it. I plan on updating a story at least once before January

Council (1931 AU): backburner, haven't really had inspiration. Still on my radar though, and it spins through my head on occasion!

Marvelous Misadventures: been plucking away at this! I recently had an epiphany regarding the next part of the plot, so hopefully that gets me more excited to work on it

Considering expanding the coloring pages I made into a whole series, that could be cool

Misc stuff includes a couple half-abandoned oneshots, a few drawing ideas, and a major art project that probably won't happen because I'm trying not to burn myself out 😅

Four Swords Projects

Fairytale AU: recently gained fire for this again. Reread and organized all my existing material, edited the outline, and I desperately want to finish it soon. Hesitantly scheduling for before the new year. Draft currently maybe about 30% of the way, at 8k.

Isekai AU: I don't think I've mentioned this to anyone outside discord, but ta da I'm deep in this. I'm probably 90% done, about 30k. This will be a Christmas fic, I hope!!

Vampire lords AU: rambly vampire plot is going. Somewhat slowly. I've been trying to not overload myself with too much, so this has been demoted slightly. :) Bite fics happen spontaneously, though, and there might be another coming.

Rinthia AU: my original world, the one seen in Nothing New Under the Sun. This is kind of a passing thought, definitely in planning stages, but I would kind of like to expand this—see where the other characters are, give y'all some answers, because the answers are there

Non-fandom

I want to do more traditional art, graphite and watercolors mostly, and that usually means using photos or life instead of fandom stuff. Makes it a bit less exciting, but maybe I can find a way of doing that. I miss my lil oil paint studio area but I can work with what I have

I'm crafting a few Christmas presents instead of buying them because I do not have much money. That is something I need to spend like, this next week doing

Sanderson merch: I have a goal of getting a booth at Dragonsteel next December, and selling some small souvenir stuff. My plans involve making more pins (I ordered a couple already, and they're very nice), drawing some coloring pages, and maybe advertising here a little once I actually have some stuff I'm proud of up. This will ideally take a year to get together, though, so no rush.

By Month

November

I spent most of November working on The Worst Thing About Earth, kind of an impulse fic that spiraled out of control. I think I burned myself out a little on this, so I've been taking it slowly. Trying to, anyway.

December

So far, I've mostly worked on holiday gift exchanges and some backburner stuff. Like I said, I've been taking it kind of gently. I plan on finishing the FS isekai AU this month, and getting most of the way through the fairytale AU. Getting those off my plate will free me up to think about other things, I think. I also plan on maybe one more bite fic and one more LU disability AU thing before the new year.

January On

I'm not sure what the next month will bring! Ideally, I'll be wrapping up the fairytale AU and intermittently posting a few little things. I'm hoping to return to a couple of my older projects soon, mostly Marvelous Misadventures, because I've left that thing unfinished for LONG ENOUGH.

This next year, I want to try to devote more time to doing things for myself that aren't fandom things. I'd like to reread Stormlight Archive before #5 comes out in December, play more video games, and do more painting. I would like to establish a better habit of making and eating food. I want to play board games a little more often.

Still, the muse can be fickle, and as you probably know by now, I am very good at chasing my inspiration!!

[truly-hopeless]

Honest Question About A Fic

So not too long ago, while at work, I was thinking about a story of mine that I haven't updated in almost two years. The story is titled "I Move the Stars For No One," which is a retelling of Rumpelstiltskin with L/Light Yagami as the main ship that I started writing after reading other LawLight fairy tale rewrites, namely eleonoraw's Merman and Totoroto's Snow Moon. It was my first story published to AO3 near the beginning of the pandemic and was my first LawLight fic. It currently sits unfinished at seven chapters (there was an eighth, a scrapped prologue, but I moved it to "The Dead Darling Graveyard" since it had little to do with the story) and was last updated December 2021. While I like parts of the current version (such integrating other fairy tales into the story since I'm a sucker for that kind of thing), I feel dissatisfied with the story for several reasons:

It's taking too long to get to the main conflict of the story (Beyond disrupting Light and L's arrangement and the two needing to find a way to stop that from happening) even without the long hiatuses and that smaller conflicts (L hiding he's a goblin from Light, Light feeling conflicted about what to do now that he's not going to be executed, and Misa's jealousy) are getting resolved too easily.

The story barely resembles Rumplestiltskin at all. Sure, it was always going to be a different story from the original fairy tale since the protagonists' identities and circumstances that make them desperate enough to ask a magical stranger for help and who they fall in love with are not the same (while the miller's daughter can definitely do better than the greedy king demanding she spin straw into gold on pain of death, never in a million years is she going to consider the man who demands she hand over her baby [presumably to eat it] in exchange for his help marriage material unless there is serious tweaking done to his character), it still feels off.

The main characters feel out of character. Light and L became too familiar too fast (even for a ship fic) and there's no real tension after L's deception is revealed and Light forgives him (too easily, I feel). And while I don't necessarily want to vilify Misa to add conflict (especially since I just complained about how awful the king in the original fairy tale was), she should be a little more unwilling to share Light with L (even if she is the one that gets to marry him) and push back more.

I just hate the title. It was taken from lyrics of a song from Labyrinth, but outside of L being the King of Goblins in this story and the memory-wiping peaches there's nothing in common with Labyrinth either; it could have been, if I wasn't afraid of adding more conflict and making L more dark grey when it comes to morality, but that wasn't what I wrote.

So I'm thinking about rewriting the story, to make it more in line with both the original fairy tale and in the spirit of LawLight. But that comes with it's own problems:

If you've been following me for any amount of time, you'll know that I'm not the most consistent when it comes to updating my stories; it could be anywhere between a week to four months to a whole year before I update something due to a combination of burnout, stress when I think about how I'm almost thirty and nothing in my life is coming together, and being distracted by other story ideas. Speaking of...

I have too much shit going on as is when it comes to writing. I was tagged for that WIP ask game a few weeks ago, where I had to list out all the stuff I've been working on. The list has 31 drafts and I found out today that I still forgot to list a couple (not going back to change it now) and then there are ideas that play out in my head during work or when I'm trying to sleep that I haven't brought myself to write down because I am trying to keep the new WIPs to a minimum.

I have yet to finish a long story (I have the same problem as the protagonist from Dave Made a Maze: I start all these projects, but never finish them) and will feel slightly guilty for abandoning yet another one, even if it's for the sake of a rewrite instead of abandoning it altogether and trying to forget they exist like the stories on my FFN account.

So what should I do?

[thee-rat-king]

S & D Tier Comic Adaptation - Issue 1 (draft one)

This is deeply unfinished by I believe in showing my work and this is my first time scripting a comic. It’s not professional formatting, but I’m doing my best and I’d like to share what I have so far. Constructive feedback is appreciated!!

(NOTE: I know that describing panel layout is a bit gauche, I have done it in a few places just for visualisation, as this is being read by anyone, not just a specific art team)

Page 1

Panels 1-4 - introductory splash art of four seperate FAIRNESS ASSOCIATION HEROS. (first draft first draft I don’t have all the details yet).

Panel 5 (central inset) - a group of FAIRNESS ASSOCIATION HEROS, led by THE CHADSTER are flying towards the outer atmosphere in the invisible jet.

Chad: my friends, this time I am certain we shall defeat this dastardly villain

FAH #2: [something vaguely reasonable, Alex is Big Scary blah blah blah]

Page 2 and 3 - a double page spread of SPACE!!! it is BIG AND EMPTY!!! To the lower left of page 2 we see the invisible jet. It is very small compared to the vastness of SPACE!!!

Page 4 and 5 - another double page spread. Wow!! I’m so creative. This also shows the vastness of SPACE!!! Except that now ALEX is in the centre. They look unbearably hot (details unimportant). To the lower left of page 4 the invisible jet has been disrupted as though by a sonic blast. To clarify ALEX is big enough that they could probably pick the jet up in one hand if they wanted to.

Page 6 (three single image strips with the vastness of SPACE in the background)

Panel 1 - FAHs 1 and 4 (I really need to give them names) blast out of the front windshield of the invisible jet

SFX: CRASH

Panel 2: ALEX grabs FAH 3 from the wreck, who is actively firing back at them with their laser vision (to no effect)

Panel 3: CHAD and FAH 2 watch on from the wreckage of the invisible jet, leaping into action (note: I cannot for the life of me remember what chads powers are rn. That is perhaps why he’s not doing much yet).

Page 7

No idea of the formatting, I got bored of vague art direction with no dialogue. It’s going to be a maybe 7 panel layout depicting a the heroes and Alex fighting their way back towards earth. Maybe a second group of heros in the distance. IDK how powerful I should establish Alex to be this early ?? (I’m not changing anything, but pretend this is going to be read by a fresh audience. Information is shared in bits and pieces.) (chants under breath: first draft first draft)

Page 8

Panel 1 - a column up the left side of the page showing a perfectly normal, if slightly industrial apartment building in a nice city

Panel 2 - wide shot! A nice, comfy apartment. One wall has a BDG-style conspiracy theory board, maybe with an old treasure map pinned to it, but otherwise the room in very normal

Panel 3 - mid shot, in an armchair MORGAN is reading a book. They are average looking (details unimportant), and wearing a soft jumper.

Panel 4 - MORGAN takes a sip of tea, and continues to read their book. Perhaps there is a fucked up statue in the background.

SFX: siiiiip

Panel 5 - wide shot of the apartment, from one side ALEX comes through the door loudly, while on the other MORGAN is in their armchair. (Or couch?? Maybe it should be a couch. Or a beanbag chair.)

Page 9

Panel 1 - close up of ALEX walking towards MORGAN

Alex: the heroes foiled my plans and blew up my castle

Panel 2 - MORGAN in their armchair, looking surprised as ALEX continues

Alex: then they chased me into the outer atmosphere! And they know I killed Rebecca the Rebreathable last month

Panel 3 - ALEX sits

Morgan: that’s weird

Alex: no, that’s pretty much the norm

Panel 4 - Morgan and Alex face each other, either in chairs or on a couch

Morgan: really? Because that hasn’t been my experiance at all

Panel 5 (this takes up like, the bottom half of the page). MORGAN talking happily while ALEX looks on in bemused confusion

Morgan: like, when they rescued that person I kidnapped last week they also fixed my toaster and found my car keys and all the pieces to the jigsaw puzzle I dropped last week, and they fixed the electrical issues with the cable car, and the cleaned up my junk draw, and set the timer on my microwave…….

Image fades into the bottom of the page with no hard cutoff, as MORGAN presumably continues on with the list of things the “point-and-click” heroes did.

———

Thanks for reading!! In case you didn’t know, most of the dialogue on page 9 is taken from the original video that started S&D Tier. I’m not sure how many changes will happen between this VERY PRELIMINARY FIRST DRAFT and the actual final comic, but I’m excited! (Yes this is just 9 pages. The next one will be longer. It’s a start.)

[happytapirstudio]

February 2024 Book Log

(bold means new this month)

Bosnia: A Short History by Noel Malcolm

The Chronicles of Ancient Darkness Book 5: Oath Breaker by Michelle Paver (reread, FINISHED!!!!)

Crowded Volume 1: Soft Apocalypse by Sebela et al. (finished)

Dactyl Hill Squad by Daniel José Older

Dinosaur Summer by Greg Bear

Kindred: Neanderthal Life, Love, Death, and Art by Rebecca Wragg Sykes (unfinished - due at library)

Mossflower by Brian Jacques (reread, finished)

Orochi Volume 2 by Kazou Umezz

Pride Wars 2: The Four Guardians by Matt Laney (finished)

Guess who finally finished tCoAD book 5 lmaooooooooo okay jumping ship to Pride Wars 2 what the fuck was that ending. No spoilers but. Hello?????? Felt like I was being repeatedly tossed into the air by a gorilla until I landed face-first on solid rock. I'm anticipating this to be a finite series (four books, probably), so I'm gonna save my full review until after I finish the whole thing. I just need you to know I'm not happy with like...the whole last quarter of book 2, maybe more.

Once again defeated by due date. RIP Kindred I'll check you out again soon. In the meantime I'm reading a much slimmer volume on the history of Bosnia - 99% sure this is the text Sacco was referencing when he made Goražde.

Crowded was loads of fun. I spent like an entire Sunday reading it. Orochi is my friend's book...I have a lot of books of his I need to finish (I've been "borrowing" them for about two years now smh smh smh smh smh.) I typically have a hard time following the action and dialogue in manga, but Orochi is much easier for me, and a nice change of pace overall from most of the stories I read, comic or otherwise.

Dactyl Hill Squad has been in my inventory for nearly two months, and is on the very last leg of its library loan period. I grabbed it on impulse because it had dinosaurs. (You know me.) It's young YA, like Pride Wars, so it's got the typical young-YA quirks, but I'm really enjoying the core of the story: orphans of color navigate the aftermath of the Draft Riots in New York City during the American Civil War, in a universe where humans live alongside dinosaurs.

It's such a refreshing perspective that I'm even willing to forgive it for being set in NYC lol. This is, dinosaurs aside, a very different NYC - none of the hyperactive bustle and conceit of modern NYC that inevitably poisons the blood of any book or movie set there. This is old NYC...mid-19th century old...and I dig it.

I also love what Older does with his dinos: a healthy mix of traditional and modern interpretations, creating something unique and engaging. My only issue with the story so far is that we're not given good descriptions for about half the characters. Lots of names get thrown around in the beginning with little to no associated images, descriptors, or voices, so I'm having a hard time keeping track of the cast. Other than that, an exciting story! Glad it caught my eye on the bookshelf :)

[trickster-shi]

Trickster’s Fanfic Update

Hey guys *waves*. So, I have the time and a little extra brainpower today and wanted to give you an update on how the fics are coming along. Due to changes at work and just life in general, I haven’t had the energy or creativity to finish part three of Rabbit Come Home, episode two of Into the Black, or the final epilogue story for Home Across the Universe. I haven’t even had the wherewithal to reply to all the wonderful comments that have been left on the stories, and I really hate that.

But! There is hope on the horizon and no, I have not given up on any of the stories, they may just take a little longer to get finished and posted than they used to. Read below for specifics about what I’m working on.

The first update you’ll get will likely be the third and final part of Rabbit Come Home since it’s the most put together. At present, the third installment is sitting at 14,500 words and I have the remaining scenes outlined, so I’m hoping to finish it by the end of next month. It will probably end up being around 20k-30k long. I got stuck with that one for a while but I figured out why and fixed it, so the writing has been coming along easier lately for it.

Episode Two of Into The Black is being rewritten. I lost the first draft and most of my notes for it, I’ll have to rebuild it from memory. So that’s been slow going and is on the back burner for now because I’m tired and irritated with it. Not enough to abandon it, though. I’m still excited for what I wanted to do with it.

The epilogue story for Home Across the Universe is a bit trickier. I’ve written around four half drafts for it and none worked, which has been supremely irritating. This one will require some in depth brainstorming and I’ll be able to tackle it better once Rabbit Come Home is finished. No idea how fast I’ll be able to get it on track. I think the main problem is that I have a bunch of different scenes I want to write but nothing that interconnects them at the moment. I am also on the fence about adding an antagonist/villain or keeping it as a fluffy slice of life and letting that poor version of Stiles enjoy his well earned happy ending. What would you guys like to see?

Beyond that, my central priority is getting the first draft of an original story I’m currently writing for July’s Camp NaNo that I hope to publish by the end of the year. So. Yeah, that’s a lot of pressure and the brain energy situation has not been helping with that. Also, having fics left unfinished nags at me like nothing else, so it’s been difficult to juggle everything.

I’m thinking I may try to do more regular updates like this on my fics if I can, including the original ones I intend to publish, brain energy willing. So keep an eye out for those. I figure, maybe once a week? Or more, if it happens to be a good brain week? I dunno, we’ll see.

[ladyazulina]

Mimi: Wip Page

Status: Drafting (#4) [Hiatus]. Genres: Mystery, Mental Health, Overcoming. Project started: 06 | 06 | 2021 (apparently). Current word count: 24.4k [33.7k in the Spanish version]. Trigger Warnings: Abusive and Violent Environment, Panic and Anxiety Attacks, Intrusive and Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Depression, Car Accident (detailed mention), Death and Mourning, Loss of a Loved One, Suicide Attempts.

Title: Mimi

Subtitle: Surviving Dreams

Author: Lady Azulina

Synopsis

Mimi Milan doesn't have normal dreams, instead, she can dream with people she knows and discover their true faces, without filters. This is how she knows that no one is to be trusted because everyone always has ulterior motives, even her family.

But her dreams also have a dark secret. If she gets injured in them, her injuries remain on her body when she awakens and she has to deal with them regardless of severity.

When her dreams start to turn violent, can Mimi find a safe way out?

Writing Process

How it all started?

I have no idea.

No! For real. I know why it started, but how? I’m not really sure.

Okay, then.

WHY it all started?

I needed an outlet for all the toxic thoughts I was having, to overcome some bad habits to be free to work on my mental health (though I didn't know that part was coming at that moment), and I saw that an author –I don't even remember who was– said that their writing was a healing process.

And I thought, "Why can't be the same for me?".

It has been years since then, considering that I started the very first draft in March 2021, according to the date of the document I have.

[I need a parenthesis here to let you all know that my year starts on December 20th and finishes on December 19th, I don't track my years with the world year (like, 2023 right now) but my year (24 right now), so in my registers there will be two Decembers, one at the end of the year that goes from the 1st to the 19th, and the other starting the next year on the 20th and until the 31st.

Instead of using the world year (like 2021 before), I will be using my year (22 in that case), but I will do my best to also put the world date so we're on the same page 💙.]

I also found that the very first register (before then I just tracked some lousy, approximated words, and just since, like, three months prior) is from March 11, 2021, of 545 words. After that, it seems I started writing regularly (more on than off) since April (18.4k words, 12.5k in May, 11.8k in June, 26.5k in July, 2k in August, 9.5k in September, and 8.5k in December).

The details of the second draft say that I started it in December 2021, so pretty sure that 8.5k are from it. There is also proof that I started posting the story on Wattpad and Inkspired, I don't know which version (seems logical that the first one but who knows), in the same month.

During my 23 (December 20, 2021 - December 19, 2022), the monthly word count was like: 2.3k in December 2021, 7.6k in February, 6.8k in March, 5.7k in April, 8k in May, 2.2k in June, 4.9k in August, 8.7k in September, 15.3k in October, 19.7k in November, and 53 words in December. If it seems like this year I wrote way lower, it was because I was not only writing on Mimi and my word count limit suffered a decline due to my health. It's still pretty limited, but I continue writing anyway.

I also started the third draft in May 2022.

I have seen a lot of writers recommending finishing earlier drafts before going to the next, but, eh, I take recommendations with a grain of salt. I felt I had to stop where I did, so for that there are three unfinished drafts before I finally started having a neat process register.

Before starting the next (and current) draft, I did an outline, in October 2022 exactly (that was the 15.3k words). It contains twenty chapters with four major points each. It's not tight, I can add and remove, divide them at will, but that was everything I was able to think about, based on what I knew of the story from the three previous drafts, at that moment.

Then, in November 2022, with the NaNoWriMo main event, I started the fourth draft, with the started words that I shared above.

Now, in my year 24 (December 20, 2022 - December 19, 2023), the word count is going like: 3.7k in December 2022, 11.5k in January, 18.4k in February, 15.9k in March, and updating monthly.

As I told a bit earlier, I'm having a better, neat process register of my writing. I'm also devoted to this story as my main project until I finish it, but all those words aren't entirely for the main story; I'm also counting extra scenes, outside activities (like the ones from Tumblr), and whatever I add to my Details (worldbuilding, characters, etc) document.

Drafting Progress: around 23%.

Writing Schedule

What is this?

As I told above, the outline contains twenty (20) chapters with four (4) major points each, which are eighty (80) scenes, but as the writing goes on, I have been dividing some major points into a few more scenes, actually having eighty-eight (88) scenes and counting. Not really knowing my writing flow, I decided to try a weekly approach and see how it went, so I scheduled one scene a week starting on January 1st, 2023.

As I started the fourth draft right away in November, the first six weeks went by revising and editing the first six scenes. Then, the real work started.

To today day (May 15th, 2023), I got behind twice in my own schedule: in the 3rd Chapter, 2nd Major Point (scenes 16 and 17) for five days, and in the 4th Chapter, 2nd Major Point (scenes 21 and 22) for thirty-seven days (still counting).

Below you will be able to see the schedule, the original one had the last scene finishing on July 13th, 2024, but I changed the dates due to the last delay.

Schedule, Time Spent and Word Count

Working on: Chapter 4, Major Point 2 [22]

Scene with most words: Chapter 1, Major Point 3 [6]

Scene with fewer words: Chapter 1, Major Point 3 [5]

Scene that took the longest time: Chapter 3, Major Point 2 [16 - 17]

Scene that took the shorter time: Chapter 2, Major Point 1 [8]

Extra details, like chapters information and characters sheets, in the page.

Posting individual character sheets soon.

[titan-fodder]

Detonate

Pairing: Pro hero!Bakugou x Reader

Rating: E (explicit; mdni)

Count: ~7.2k

Tags/Warnings: cis female reader, so much banter, swearing, mentions of bullying, enemies to lovers, honestly just so much banter, not-quite confessions, explicit sexual content, oral sex (male & female receiving), vaginal sex, facials, one joke about small dicks, and more banter

A/N: this was supposed to go in an entirely different direction, but since my friends are indirectly turning me into a bakugou fucker, this is what ended up happening. this has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for literal months, so may as well yeet it out now. will this become a regular thing? doubtful. but who knows what could happen. anyway, enjoy~

As soon as you see him, you roll your eyes, trying not to groan out loud. Smoke billows in the alleyway behind him, his palms still popping with tiny explosions that remind you of sparklers. He always was one for theatrics. 

 "You okay down here, sweetheart?" Bakugou—no, sorry, Great Explosion Murder Go… actually, nevermind—asks in the raspy voice you remember from your high school days. 

 "Yep," you nod, flashing an unconvincing smile as you look up from the perp you're tying up. "Dandy, even."

 "You sure?" His boots are heavy on the pavement when he walks toward you, small rocks and dust getting crushed with every step. "'Cause you missed a few stragglers back there—had, like, four guys tailin' you." 

 The man you're tying hisses when you cinch the rope tight around his wrists, pulling him to his feet at the same time you get to yours. 

 "I was planning on circling back, thanks."

 "Well, they were getting pretty close, probably gonna gang up on you," the blonde muses, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Guess it's good I showed up."

 And, you'd known the exact moment he had. Even blocks away, you could hear Dynamight, kind of hard not to, and even his quieter attacks carry his signature with them, thick smoke rising above buildings, the sweet smell of a massive campfire permeating the night air. 

 You had hoped he wouldn't actually find and talk to you, but… No such luck. 

 "Guess I was," you say with a click of your tongue. "I'm about to call Tsukauchi. What'd you do with the other guys?" 

 Bakugou nods to the side. "Next alley over."

 "Did you tie 'em up?" 

 He shakes his head, smile widening. "Don't worry. They won't be wakin' up any time soon."

 "Are you—" you stop yourself with a scoff, shoving the criminal in your grasp against the nearest wall before setting off toward the stragglers. "Careless. Just fucking careless."

 "Oi! Where're you goin'? I told you—"

 "I heard you," you wave behind you. "I just prefer a more thorough approach."

 Bakugou is a good hero for the most part. He struggles with his gruff public image and occasional PR disaster, but when it comes to actual on-the-job happenings, he's stellar. It's just that he relies on sheer force and not much else, doesn't care about leaving things pretty. 

 As you can see when you round the corner. 

 Bricks are littered about, dust still kicked up, explosive black marks decorating the nearby buildings. In the midst of it all are four bodies sprawled out, completely unconscious. You spot blood trickling out of a few ears, some facial lacerations, and a broken wrist but not much else. 

 Dynamight must have focused on the structures rather than the perpetrators in terms of targets, knowing a big enough attack would still knock them out, send some debris flying but not leave anyone dead or mortally wounded. It's a good tactic considering how volatile his quirk is, but the business owners who've leased these buildings might argue. Could also be catastrophic if implemented during the day when the buildings are actually packed with people.  

 "Satisfied?" 

 You ignore him in favor of grabbing extra zip-ties from one of your pant pockets, always thankful you chose utility over fashion when deciding on your costume. Of course, being impossible to ignore entirely, Bakugou holds out a still-smoking hand after he watches you immobilize the first man. 

 “Gimme a couple,” he grunts.

 “I can do it myself, it’s fine.” You hope it comes off as a casual shrug-off, but judging by the way he scoffs, you have a feeling there was still a bite to your words. “Fine, whatever, just grab the last guy,” you amend, tossing a couple of the plastic ties in Bakugou’s general direction. 

 “No, no, it’s fine. Wanna act like you did it all yourself, that’s cool,” he says, holding his arms up as he falls to lean against one of the crumbling walls. “Not like I’m surprised.”

 “That’s not even—” You growl and shake your head like it will get rid of your rising irritation. “Whatever.”

 The better part of your teenage years were spent being antagonized by the hero off to your left. Though, that’s not to say you didn’t get a fair few of your own jabs in against him once you actually grew a backbone. From harmless pranks that just made each of you roll your eyes to actual serious injuries while practicing or sparring, you and Bakugou covered the entire spectrum.

 You’ve never gotten along, not when he shouldered into you on your first day at UA and not when you flipped him off after walking for graduation. Having taken a job in the states almost immediately, you haven’t seen much of him over the last few years. Honestly, having several thousand miles separating you from him was pretty nice, no fear of him popping out at you from around the next corner with a palm full of sparks with your name on it. 

 All good things must come to an end, you suppose. 

 The phone call to Tsukauchi is short, just your location, how many perps, and their overall condition. He tells you he’ll be at the scene soon with a few cars and to sit tight until then. 

 “Was that the cat dude?” Bakugou calls from his place on the wall, and you turn to give him the most incredulous look you can muster.

 “The—Are you talking about Tamakawa?”

 He shrugs. “Does Tamakawa have a cat head? Little bell instead of a tie?”

 “You really don’t know their names? After how many times you’ve had to meet with them, like when you got yourself fucking kidna—”

 He’s off the bricks and in your face before you can blink, the smell of burnt sugar wafting through the air as his hands crackle. “Swear to god, if you finish that sentence…” 

 “Aw, still have a little chip on your shoulder about that?” You grin. “It’s a good thing Deku and Riot had your back, otherwise you would’ve been on your own, and well…”

 "Why do you have to be such a bitch all the fucking time?" He finally breaks, and you think this might be a new record for how long the two of you have held out before reverting to name-calling. 

 You snicker to yourself and take one step back, just so that you aren't breathing in that sugar sweet smell that radiates from him. 

 "What, you thought you were just gonna waltz up to me and act like high school never happened?" You muse. "I don't think so, sweetheart."

 "I'm not waltzin' anywhere! You waltzed! You left after school, and this is you waltzing back home, and—"

 "Katsuki Bakugou, don't tell me you missed me," you drawl with a smirk. 

 He squints at you from behind his mask. "Don't flatter yourself." 

 "Well, what am I supposed to think?" You question before pushing your lips out in a pout, batting your eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion. "You find me all alone in a dark alley and come to my rescue, make sure these bad men don't beat me up."

 "God, you're annoying," he grumbles, and you let out a genuine laugh. 

 "Right back at ya', bud."

 He does actually help you with lining the criminals up on the wall, a couple of them mumbling incoherently, others limp as rag dolls. Neither of you try to make conversation, knowing it'll only turn into an argument, and you're glad when you see the cop cars pull up because you know it means you can get away from—

 "Wait, both of you are responsible for this?" Tsukauchi asks, speaking away from the phone he's holding. 

 "What?" You look at him then to Bakugou then back and immediately claim, "No, no, this was all Dynamight, it's fine."

 He did take down four out of the five perps anyway, you barely had to lift a finger, so…

 "Nah, I'd say it was a joint effort," Bakugou negates, suddenly slinging an arm around your neck and gritting through a fake smile, "Always so modest, like she can't help it."

 You elbow him in the stomach but are only given the satisfaction of a very small grunt. Tsukauchi glances between the two of you, obviously picking up on the fact that something is off, but doesn't seem to want to dive into it himself. You can't blame him. 

 "Okay, well, uh, both of you will have to fill out reports then. Do you need a ride to the station?" 

 "No, s'fine, I've got my bike around the corner," Bakugou states. "She can catch a ride."

 "Really not neces—"

 Bakugou just cuts you off. "We'll meet you there!" then starts tugging you toward wherever he's parked his stupid little motorcycle. 

 "What is wrong with you?"

 "Nothin' at all," he chuckles, letting go of you when you rip yourself out of his grasp. 

 "Here I was thinking professional hero work and adulthood would have matured you, but nooo."

 "Look who's talkin'."

 The bike is actually pretty nice, not that you'll ever tell him that. It's mostly black with accents the same shade of green as his disgusting grenades. You're glad he kept the orange far away. It's bad enough he walks around the city looking like an explosion personified, no need to take it another step further.

 His costume hasn’t changed much over the years, still as obnoxious as it's always been—spiked mask and headpiece, bright ‘X’ over his chest, bulky gauntlets, and boots that it looks like he’s finally grown into. He always thought he looked so good in high school, and though you may have been mean to him almost as much as he was to you, you just didn’t have the heart to tell him his accessories made him look like a shrimp, too big for his body type at the time.

 At the time.

 He’s gotten taller, though. Taller and broader. It’s irritating, but you’re not about to dwell on it. It’s just fucking Bakugou in a slightly evolved form, still the same snot-nosed bully you went to school with, sporting the same stupid, unruly hair and the same cocky grin. 

 “You’re gonna have to hold on,” he gruffs after you’ve kicked your leg over the bike, no choice but to sit pressed against him, and isn’t he just loving this. Prick.

 “Yeah, yeah, just get us there in one piece.” 

 The air is warm out tonight, but as soon as you start speeding through the streets, the temperature feels to drop by a few degrees. Other cars and buildings whistle past, nothing more than streaks in your peripheral vision. Your fingers tightly grip the material at Bakugou’s waist, but even then, you attempt to keep any and all contact to a minimum, still trying not to lean against him completely. He probably knows, can feel how stiff you are behind him, but if he has anything to say, he doesn’t, knows it’s a lost cause against the roar of the engine.

 Once parked outside of the station, you dismount then smooth your hands over your hair, mumble a quiet, “Give a girl a helmet next time, geez,” to which he rolls his eyes and pushes you toward the entrance of the building. 

 “Not really one for ride-alongs,” he tells you.

 You don’t believe him, letting out a sarcastic, “Okay, sure,” so that he’s made aware. Katsuki Bakugou not giving friends—girls—rides on that bike, yeah right. It’s probably one of many tactics he uses to get into people’s good graces (as well as their pants on some occasions). 

 He didn’t publicly date often at UA, and you don’t hear much about his love life now aside from the occasional tabloid yammering about seeing him walk out of a Boba shop with Uravity or Miruko, but you know it, you feel it in your bones, the dude gets around. With a face like that, you know he does.

 Trudging up the steps, you hear his heavy boots and heavier sighs behind you. You’ve irked him which is only fair since you’ve been stuck in a state of perpetual annoyance since you first started hearing his explosions earlier. At least this way nobody’s happy. 

 Tsukauchi gets some peon to grab the routine paperwork for both of you to fill out, shoving you into a cubicle together before shuffling away. You’re content to just stay silent, let the scratch of the pens fill the quietness, and it works for a while, but—

 “You were really gonna give me full credit just so you could leave?”

 You stop writing and peer up at Bakugou through narrowed eyes. “It was less about leaving and more about getting away from you.”

 “That bad, huh?” He asks, and you can see the corner of his mouth pulling upward, a tell-tale sign that he’s about to say or do something infuriating. “Just can’t control yourself around me, can you? Had to at least try to get away.”

 The face you make is completely unflattering, you can tell, but you’re too lost in trying to figure out exactly what you just heard—control?—can’t around…?

 “What the fuck are you talking about?”

 “Look, I know it’s been a few years, but I was hoping since you’re back in the city, we could just put it all behind us,” he tries, red eyes looking full of sincerity to an amateur but not to you. No, you can still see mischief lurking within. 

 “I’m still at a loss,” you admit. “Put what behind us? The years of back and forth bullying, or—”

 “Dont be fucking stupid,” Bakugou laughs, leaning back in his chair some. His eyebrows raise just a bit, expression morphing to one of casual arrogance. “I know you liked me back then and were embarrassed about it. Probably are now, too.”

 The cackle that bursts from your chest is not cute, and it rings through the station for everyone to hear. “I’m sorry, what?”

 Blinking at you, Bakugou's eyebrows begin to knit together in confusion. "Jesus Christ, you think I—" you wheeze, "—that I could ever—" tears are gathering in the corners of your eyes, "—like, in what world could you—could you interpret all of that—as infatuation?!" 

 You have to drop your head, shoulders shaking as you try and fail to calm yourself down. This idea that he's formed, that you've just liked him this whole time, too coy to say anything so you simply resorted to flinging insults and inflicting bodily injury. It's too fucking funny, can't even put into words—

 "Alright, alright, chill out, fuck," Bakugou grumbles, but it only makes you laugh harder. "Keep it up, and I'm just gonna assume it's a panic response at bein' caught."

 "Being caught—I cannot believe—" Taking in a few deep breaths, you try to avoid looking at Bakugou (or the few unfamiliar faces that are angled toward you because of your outburst). "You thought I was, what, pulling your pigtails or something?" 

 "Why else would you be such a bitch?" He asks like it's obvious. 

 "Maybe because you're a fucking dick? I wasn't just gonna lay and take it like everyone else. Screw that."

 You'd witnessed it too many times to count, the way he would intimidate his peers, make them feel inadequate or completely useless. He had his tight group of friends, and if you're being honest, he wasn't much nicer to them. They just had thicker skin, it seemed. 

 You weren't about to be one of the "extras" at UA, but you definitely weren't gonna be Bakugou's friend, so the only other real option was to become his enemy. It was a bold move, but look where it's gotten you: fearless in the face of pro hero Dynamight, able to laugh out loud at his expense and not be even a little afraid of him. 

 Because what is he really gonna do? If anything, he's even more restricted now than he was in school, has to keep his reputation in mind before doing anything rash (like murder another pro). 

 "Do you assume criminals wanna fuck you too since you don't get along with them?" You tease, enjoying the way Bakugou grits his teeth and glares. 

 "Keep it up, see what happens," he threatens. 

 He's a little red in the face, so you figure you can afford him some mercy, so after a little more giggling, you turn back to your paperwork, finishing it up with a few little snickers here and there.

 You aren't sure if Bakugou completes his forms at the same time as you or if he's just been waiting, but as soon as you tidy your papers and stand, he does the same. 

 "What are you doing?" There’s that bite to your words again.

 Bakugou snorts. “Getting ready to leave. The fuck does it look like I’m doing?”

 You shrug him off like you’ve been trying to all night, stepping past him to get to Tsukauchi’s desk to drop off your report. 

 “You gonna let me give you a ride back to your place?” 

 “Why,” you smirk. “So, you can find ways to torment me in what’s supposed to be the safety of my own home?”

 “God damn, you really think I’m obsessed with you or something.”

 “Hey, man—” the two of you are walking out of the station at this point, and you don’t mean to follow him to his bike, but your legs carry you there anyway. “—the line between love and hate is very, very thin.”

 “So, you think I’m in love with you now,” he chuckles, sounding a little too smug.

 You round on him, jabbing a finger into what you find is a very toned chest. “I didn’t say that.”

 “Yeah, but you implied it.”

 Rolling your eyes, you mumble a tired, “Insufferable,” because you are tired. The aggressive banter really does take a lot out of you, so paired with the criminal fight from earlier this evening, you’re ready to shower and fall into bed. 

 Bakugou apparently does not notice as he refuses to relent. “Lemme give you a ride.”

 It’s a battle you don’t see yourself winning at the present time, so you wave a hand with another grumbled, “Whatever,” and rattle off your address. Like you realized before, he’s on a tighter leash now. It’s unlikely he’d turn to petty vandalism just to piss you off. 

 The ride is a little longer than the one to the station, and while you’re just as stiff as before when you initially get on the bike behind Bakugou, the constant wind against your face eventually wears you down enough to rest your head against his broad back, just between his shoulder blades. No need to let your skin get chapped and raw, especially since someone decided helmets weren’t a necessity. 

 When he pulls up to your apartment complex, he drives around back and idles as you swing yourself over the seat.

 “Thanks for the ride. It’s been a lovely reunion,” you tell him with a sarcastic salute, but he obviously can’t hear you over the engine, so he turns it off.

 You don’t know how to feel about that. 

 “What?” He gruffs with a squint, street lamps shining right in his ruby eyes. 

 “I said it’s been great,” you repeat, making sure to add, “Sarcasm.”

 “Yeah, figured as much.”

 You stand there, counting the seconds as they tick by, and you should turn around, go up to your apartment, leave him until the next time you inevitably run into each other.

 But, there’s a little voice calling out to you: maybe it is time to let bygones be bygones, put the past behind you, move forward as adults. Maybe both of you have grown enough to have some semblance of a civil, professional relationship.

 It’s why you sigh and make the offer, “You wanna come up for a drink or something?”

 Bakugou blinks at you, obviously surprised. “I don’t really drink.”

 “I have, like, tea too, but if that’s a soft rejection, that’s also fine.”

 He laughs, a gritty rumble that makes you curl your toes in your boots. You’re already regretting the invitation. 

 “Not a soft rejection. Just making sure you’re not trying to get me liquored up.” 

 He kicks the stand out for his motorcycle then slides off of it, gesturing for you to lead the way, and why why why did you think this was a good idea? What fucking possessed you to do this? Are you really so hopeful to believe this won’t turn into another fight?

 “Why, pray tell, would I wanna get you liquored up?” You question as you begin to walk up the stairs. 

 “Dunno. Pictures of a drunk Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight that you can post to make me look bad—”

 “You ever regret choosing that for a name?” You interrupt, genuinely curious as you shove your keys into the lock. 

 “Not even a little bit. No one is ever surprised when they meet me, hero name sums up my entire personality,” he chuckles.

 “For once, I have to agree with you.”

 Your unit is small and sparsely decorated. Most of the time spent at home is for eating and sleeping, more often than not out on the streets patrolling or at some boring fucking hero committee meeting you get invited to. 

 “Boots off, please.”

 Bakugou scoffs. “You know how fuckin’ long it takes me to put these on?”

 “That sounds like a you problem. I don’t need you tracking shit on the carpet.”

 He grumbles something under his breath but bends down to start unlacing the hardcore costume boots. Yours are much easier to unzip and kick off, and you don’t miss the way Bakugou smirks when he straightens and finds that you’ve shrunk a few inches, still considerably shorter than him even without his ridiculous platforms. 

 “Wipe that look off your face. You want tea or not?”

 “Am I gonna need to help you reach the shelf it’s on,” he teases, and yeah, this was a bad idea.

 “I know you’re not making fun of me in my own home.”

 “You’d be wrong then.”

 He’s hot on your heels as you walk the few paces into your kitchenette, posts up against the counter as you retrieve the box of tea from the pantry (on a middle shelf so that you don’t have to stand on your tip-toes, thank you). A pot is filled with water, set on the stove, and like that, you both wait for it to start boiling.

 Leaning against the cabinets opposite of Bakugou, you cross your arms over your chest and stare. He’s just how you remember him but… not. Features are harder, jawline sharper, and his frown is somehow even more pronounced. His headpiece is resting on top of the gauntlets next to his boots, so you can see every spike of his hair with nothing to distract you, and you’re alarmed to find that despite its all-over-the-place nature, it looks soft, like you could easily run your fingers—

 You stop that thought before it can get away from you, shaking your head and sighing.

 “What?” He pries.

 You turn back to the pot to find tiny bubbles rising to the surface. “Nothing.”

 He exhales like he’s put out, but you’re too busy once again thinking about how stupid it was to invite him up here. 

 “Why’ve you always hated me so much?”

 The question hangs in the air between you too, thick, heavy, loaded. How are you supposed to answer something like that? The truth, probably. It’s not like it’s embarrassing, but it will no doubt lead to one of many arguments you’re trying to avoid. 

 Back still turned, you counter, “You want me to start from the beginning when you tripped me on our first day, or…”

 “That was just me being a punk kid.”

 You do twist around at that, expression incredulous. “Uh, newsflash, I was also a punk kid.”

 “Okay, new question then. Why’d it take you so long to retaliate?”

 It was sabotage, you remember almost fondly. Loosening screws in his desk so that you could kick one of the supporting rods in the middle of class and make him topple over. That had been a couple days after he’d sprayed you in the face with the water fountain after quirk training. 

 Good times, good times. 

 “It didn’t take me that long, but if you must know, I wasn’t exactly keen on engaging in a four-year rivalry,” you admit with a click of your tongue. “But, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

 “Like, get her ass kicked every other day.”

 “Um, I do recall almost breaking your arm during sparring third year.”

 The little noise he makes is unimpressed. “Barely even a sprain.”

 “Yeah, that’s why you had to have Recovery Girl kiss it better.”

 The water finally comes to a boil, and you dip two teabags into it then spend the next several minutes reminiscing debating past “pranks” that usually ended with one or both of you in the infirmary. 

 “For two people who hated each other, we were pretty, uh… fixated,” Bakugou muses.

 You raise your eyebrows, glancing away. “You said it, not me.”

 “You’re tellin’ me there was really nothing there on your end?” Another inquiry that catches you off guard, but this time instead of looking somewhere else, your eyes snap to his. “Not even a little curiosity?”

 Your gaze narrows, immediately suspicious. “Did you want there to be? Were you curious back then?” 

 “I was a teenage boy. ‘Course I was.”

 It surprises you for some reason, and if you could take another step back, you would, but the countertop is already digging into the small of your back, and to get out of the kitchenette, you’d have to bypass Bakugou which seems like a… not great idea right now. 

 “Years of torment and it was all just, what, a little boy’s sexual frustration?”

 “Well, that and I wasn’t used to anyone challenging me the way you did.”

 “Oh, so I was just special?” God, you hope you don’t sound as flustered as you feel, but the subject at hand is making your face heat and your stomach flip and your hands tremble which you hope he doesn’t notice as you pull the bags out of the tea to throw away.

 “Guess you could say that,” he only halfway confirms, and why is your heart beating so fast? This is Bakugou. Katsuki Bakugou. The guy who made some of your most formative years hell, and you’re, what, getting fucking butterflies?

 “You’re shaking,” he says, much closer than before, so close you can feel his breath ghost over the shell of your ear. It makes you shiver. 

 You're honest when you tell him, “Yeah, ‘cause you’re makin’ me nervous.”

 “Why?”

 You reach forward, fingers clumsy as you turn the burner off, then suck in a deep breath and pivot to face him—a mistake considering you’re nearly chest to chest now.

 “Because, Bakugou, I don’t know what you’re playing at right now.”

 Except you think you do. You think you know exactly where this is leading. 

 “You gonna stop me?”

 Your eyes are too wide in your skull, straining, taking in the set of his face. Determination laced with that curiosity he spoke of earlier. Is this just scratching an itch from forever ago? And, if it is, do you really care?

 No. No to that question, and no to his.

 “Tea’s gonna get cold,” you murmur, as if either of you could give a shit. 

 It’s the last thing you manage to get out before he bends to press his mouth to yours, and it’s exactly how you expect Bakugou’s kiss to be—fierce and unforgiving but also hungry, fiery. Passionate. 

 As soon as your lips part, he’s sliding his tongue into your mouth, warm as it moves with yours. One of his hands, larger now than you previously thought, curls around the back of your head, angling you any and every way he wants which is much hotter than you’d like to admit, but then maybe that’s what Bakugou has always been to you: more appealing than you’d like.

 In a swift motion, he scoops you up to set you on the counter a little too close to the stove than you’d normally like, but you’re too wrapped up to worry much about it. About level with his hips now, he has you just close enough to the edge to be able to grind against you just where he wants, just where you want, and the way you moan into the kiss is mildly horrifying, but the reciprocated grunt that rumbles from his throat is extremely satisfying. 

 “Bedroom?” He huffs.

 “Mm, shower, I was sweating earlier,” you try.

 “Don’t care,” he dismisses before ordering, “Wrap your legs around me.”

 A younger version of yourself would have frothed and spit at him, don’t fucking tell me what to do, but not now. Now, you’re busy fitting yourself to him, arms locked around his neck, thighs hiked high as he grips them hard enough to bruise, walking backwards out of the kitchen then letting you direct him to the small room in the back. 

 You’re tossed on the bed and then abandoned as Bakugou sheds his clothes, heavy thunks of various belts and buckles hitting the floor, and while you have the space, you do the same, lifting your hips to shimmy out of your pants then tearing your top over your head. 

 The thought of a shower crosses your mind again, knowing you could use one and he probably could do, but when Bakugou turns to face you, on full display to you for the first time, you come to the conclusion that bathing would be futile as you probably wouldn’t actually do much washing. 

 “Quit starin’, you’re gonna make me blush or some shit.”

 “Oh, please blush,” you giggle, a little shy yourself as you cover your chest when he begins walking toward you. “Give me something new to tease you about.”

 “I don’t think so.”

 He takes one long stride over, and the bed dips when he places a knee on the edge, your entire body tilting toward him and making it even easier for him to reach down and pry your arm away from your torso. 

 "Fuck, you're just as sexy as I thought you'd be," he says, and by the tone of his voice, you can't tell if he's satisfied or upset by this fact. 

 Raising your free hand, you're able to sink your fingers into that soft, blond hair, urging him down to you as you play, "Think about me like this a lot then?" 

 "Tonight, mostly," he tells you sincerely, and you think that's better than him confessing to a legitimate years-long crush. Curiosity at a young age is understandable, but if he told you he had full blown feelings for you back then, you'd probably call him a liar. 

 "Haven't been able to stop thinkin' about this since I found you in the alley," he elaborates, dipping down to nip at your neck then sucking at the offended skin. 

 "So, you covered it up by calling me a bitch?"

 Any snark is lost to the gasp he pulls from you, back arching in an invitation that he takes when he palms your tits. 

 "Old habits die hard." 

 "Tell me about it."

 He bites and sucks a trail down your neck and to your chest, teeth gently closing around the nipple he isn't pinching between two fingers, and your core aches, legs spreading without thought in a silent plea. 

 You got a glimpse of his cock when he'd walked over to the bed, noted its above average size, and the younger you would have been disappointed, always assuming all that Big Dick Energy™ was due to a comically small dick, but here and now, you're so, so glad of the weight of it in your hand when you reach down to stroke him, that his girth is too much to close your fingers around entirely. He's not intimidating, but you know that in time, your eyes will be rolling into the back of your head when he stretches you. 

 There's a bit of desperate fumbling for a while as Bakugou makes his way down your body, groaning regretfully when you lose your grip on his cock, but he seems to forget about it when he drops between your legs and pulls your thighs even further apart. 

 Some men stare. Some tease. Bakugou does neither, immediately burying his face in your dripping pussy, circling your entrance with his tongue, bumping your clit with his nose. Relying on his shoulders to keep you spread for him, he snakes his hands under your ass, gripping each cheek and using them to move you in gentle little jerks—up and down, side to side, like you're riding his face on his terms. 

 Your spine tingles, gut growing hot, because Bakugou looks and feels ravenous as he eats you out, lapping at your wetness when he pushes a finger inside of you, the tip of his tongue laving over the skin that tightens at the intrusion of a second. 

 He's somehow gentle and rough at the same time, in control while losing it, and all you can do is leak all over his face. Your fingers knot in his hair, tugging harder the closer you get, and fuck, is that string pulling tight, threads slowly beginning to snap one by one until it's at its full breaking point, and then—

 "Not just yet, sweetheart," he grins, sitting up on his elbows and aiming a little slap right over your swelling clit. "Wanna draw this out."

 You whine, an honest to God pout tugging your lips downward, but it's only another couple of seconds before you decide there are better things to do with your mouth.

 Slipping out of Bakugou's grasp with limbs like jelly, you slide down to your knees on the floor. He catches on quickly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and spreading his legs for you to kneel between. Up close now, you can really admire his cock, its length and thickness along with its barely-there curve and the vein that runs up the side. 

 That's what you go for first, tracing over the raised skin so lightly it makes Bakugou pant. His fingertips dig into the bedspread for a few moments, but sooner rather than later they're pressing into the back of your skull as he leads you to the head of his cock, flushed with precum beading and dripping from it. 

 "Okay, okay," you laugh airily.

 You don't shake him off when he guides you down, your jaw dropping as you cover your teeth with your lips. He's warm and fat, stretching your mouth as you rub the flat of your tongue back and forth on the underside of his shaft. It's only then that he lets go of you, releasing you as well as a deep groan as he falls back onto the mattress. 

 You drool over his cock, letting spit coat him to make your glide easier, and then you're bobbing your head, taking a little more of him every time. You can't quite get the last inch without pushing yourself too far, so you curl your hand around it, jerking him off as you give what is hopefully the best and sloppiest blowjob he's ever received. 

 His hips jump when your other hand comes up to toy with his balls, massaging and rolling them, giving a slight tug every once in a while. Thighs tense and tighten around you, and even over all your slurping, you can hear the short breaths Bakugou is taking in. He's white-knuckling the sheets again, chest flushed with arousal, and then he's suddenly sitting up and pushing you away. 

 "Alright, stop."

 You bat your eyes up at him. "Why?" 

 "'Cause I'm not about to have you tellin' everyone I’m a quick shot," he answers, then scoots back on the bed and beckons you forward. 

 You go but not before grabbing a condom from the drawer of your nightstand. You're more than happy to fuck Dynamight, but you'll be damned if you end up having his kids. 

 Bakugou takes the foil package from you and tears it open with his canines—of course—then rolls it onto his dick faster than you ever could. 

 "You cool with being on top first?" He asks, and it catches you off guard. So much about him catches you off guard. "Want you to be able to set the pace 'til you're used to me."

 "Yeah, that's—that's fine."

 He helps you climb on top of him, just barely having to tilt his head up to look at you, and with his guiding hands, you slowly begin to lower yourself. 

 Eyebrows going high, you moan just as he hisses, your sore jaw dropping open, and it's just as you thought, that delicious stretch, that satisfying burn that you can feel all the up in your throat. 

 Once fully in his lap, you sit for a few moments, adjusting to the feeling of being this full. You rock your hips, heat flooding you when his cock rubs against the bump that makes your pussy drip, and when he notices, he takes you by the hips and repeats the motion with more force than you allowed yourself. 

 "Ohh fuck—fuck, Bakugou—"

 "Katsuki," he grunts into your ear, nipping at the cartilage in a way that makes goosebumps spring up on your arms and legs. "Just Katsuki now."

 At this point, you'll call him anything he wants you to, unable to think straight as he abuses that spot inside of you so that your eyes begin to water. 

 Fighting against his grip, you raise yourself some before dropping back down, and once that precedent is set, Katsuki assists you with the new rhythm. He lifts his hips to meet yours, fucking up into you while you cream around his cock—fuck, it feels so good, so good—

 "So fucking good, oh my god—"

 "Yeah?" He presses his chest against yours, your sensitive nipples gliding against his slick skin and making you push into him even harder. 

 One hand curled around your back, he flips you both around, on his knees now and tugging you by the legs so that your ass meets his pelvis. 

 The new angle makes you cry out, hands reaching for him, nails scratching down his toned abs so that the muscles jump beneath your touch. 

 "Feel good?" If Katsuki Bakugou were capable of cooing, you think he would be right now, voice a little softer than usual but still full of gravel. 

 "Yeah, fuck yes, right there—"

 He pistons in and out of you, and you can feel wetness coating your inner thighs, dripping down to the curve of your ass. He taps your clit a few times, eliciting a pathetic mewl from you. Katsuki just shushes you, though, soothing the nerves with delicate circles that quickly turn you into a sloppy mess, pussy clenching around him only to loosen again as more fluid trickles out. 

 The sight seems to trap him, fixating on the way you take him, pulsing around his cock, covering him base to tip in slick, gossamer arousal. It prompts him to thrust a little harder, circle a little faster until your eyes bulge and your breath catches. 

 Toes curl, your back arches, and like that you come hard enough to make your head throb. Your orgasm rolls over you in waves, body still sucking Katsuki in every time he fucks into you because he still is, riding out your climax alongside you. 

 And, when it dulls into an easy tide and you sigh, he leans down for a harsh kiss, growling, "So fucking sexy when you come on my cock."

 All you can do is moan in response, meeting his hips weakly, pulling his hair, dragging nails down his chest until he's panting heavier and his rhythm begins to falter. 

 "Can I—can I—' he stutters, and for a moment you think he's asking for permission, but before you can be too surprised (or laugh at him), he finishes, —can I come on your face?"

 In any other state of mind, you'd probably decline, maybe shout a judgmental, what the fuck did you just ask me? but right now you are dazed and pliant. Agreeable. 

 So, all you do is smile lazily and tell him, "Sure."

 Katsuki pulls out almost immediately, tearing the messy condom from his cock and moving forward on his knees to angle himself at your face. You sit up on your elbows to help him out, closing your eyes and bracing yourself as the slick sound of him jerking himself off fills the room. 

 "F-fuck—fuck—"

 It's the last warning you get before warm strings of cum start hitting your face, viscous as it drips downward. A line lands over one of your eyes, all but gluing it shut, while another coats your lips, your neck, the last load hitting just above your tits. 

 His hand slows, milking the last couple drops from his spent cock, and then he sighs and falls forward only to catch himself on the hand that's suddenly planted on the mattress next to you. 

 Opening the eye you can, you're not surprised to find him staring at you, smirking at you. 

 "Take a picture. It'll last longer," you tease after licking some of the cum from your lips. 

 He chuckles, reaching up to thumb away the string across your closed eye, then utters an unsurprising, "Don't tempt me."

 Before he can wipe his seed on your bedspread, you grab his hand and suck it from the coated digit. He blinks at you in what could either be awe or post-orgasm bliss, simply swaying when you leave his side to stand up. 

 "That did not disappoint," you say in a strained voice, arms high above your head as you stretch. "Now, I'm gonna shower 'cause I am filthy, and you're more than welcome to join me."

 He does join you. And, afterwards he joins you for re-warmed tea. Then a movie on the couch. Then falling asleep in your bed. 

 Maybe it was a one-off and you'll be back at each other's throats in a few days, or maybe high school really is just water under the bridge. 

 Whatever the case, once a full twenty-four hours have passed—a few texts sent back and forth—you come to the conclusion that you're gonna have to learn to work with pro hero Dynamight one way or another just as your PR teams are about to have to learn because staring at you on the homepage of your news app is a photo of you, clad in a skimpy robe and slippers, walking Katsuki out to his motorcycle the morning after your escapade. 

 Your phone starts ringing before you even close out of the article, 'Lord Explosion Idiot' displayed in bright letters. 

 You accept the call with a laugh. 

 "You ready for this shitstorm?" He asks without pause. 

 "Ready as I'll ever be."