#uh. how long has it been since these audios dropped

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

The Fourteen Hidden or "Bug" Audios In Order, With Reasoning

(i think! I'm fairly confident in this! I'm willing to Debate!)

12-14 / Howdy & Barnaby

[we know that Barnaby and Wally go to Howdy's every morning]

8-14 / Eddie & Frank

[the post office is right across from Howdy's]

6-14 / Julie & Frank

[Wally isn't scared of bugs, so he could be recruited to help with Frank's gardening problem]

1-14 / Howdy & Poppy

[Howdy mentions that he has a shipment waiting for his signature]

3-14 / Howdy & Sally

[it's possible that Wally went to Howdy's to get something for the beetles]

13-14 / Howdy & Eddie

[it looks like Wally just bought a box of apples, or something similar. Howdy signs for the shipment]

4-14 / Barnaby & Frank

[behind the pins, it looks like there's an apple or two on the ground. the shape and color is wrong for it to be tomatoes. an offering for the beetles?]

9-14 / Frank & Poppy

[the table is clear of yarn, and Frank references the damage done to his garden]

2-14 / Sally & Poppy

[there are cookies - Poppy mentioned to Frank that she might have a non-seed recipe for his butterflies]

10-14 / Julie & Sally

[Wally could have gone with Sally to help with the script reading]

5-14 / Barnaby & Eddie

[Eddie mentions that it's late in the day, and he already delivered the bowling balls]

7-14 / Eddie & Julie

[Barnaby calls, asking after Wally]

11-14 / Julie & Barnaby

[the lighting through the trees looks like afternoon/evening]

14-14 / Barnaby & Home

[the end deterioration is very final, and Barnaby references things that happened throughout his other audios]

[strawberrykake]

“Look At Your Girl….” Prank

“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”

>>warnings: Tsukki -> suggestive, cursing

Kageyama, Tsukishima, Atsumu, Hinata

Kageyama

Kageyama was busy preparing his busy volleyball schedule for the next week

It’s been a while since you’ve spent quality time together

So in order to get his attention, you slump beside him with your phone in hand

Sensing your presence, he places an arm around your waist.

“Hey, baby.” He pecks your cheek.

“Hi.”

Without any warning, you play the audio:

Look at your girl.

He looks at you, then at your phone then back at you, confused.

You see how good she looks?

A blush starts to form on his cheeks and his lips curve up into a smile.

Now imagine another guy enjoying her…

His grin immediately drops at the horrifying thought of someone else being with you

“Hmmph.” Kageyama pouts, hearing the rest of the audio.

His grip on your waist has gotten tighter.

“Get up.” He motions to his lap for you to sit on and you gladly hop on.

You can’t stop smiling at his cute little pout.

It was hard to resist a kiss as you leaned in to give him a peck.

You feel his hand move behind your head, bringing you closer and preventing you from pulling away

The kiss lingers a little longer than you intend it to.

“Tob—” He enters his tongue, shutting you up.

He kisses you as if reminding you how much he loves you.

His hands cradle your face as you tightly wrap your arms around his neck.

After a heated make-out session, Kageyama pulls away with a smirk on his face, feeling satisfied with the dazed look on your face

“Tobio…”

“Let’s go out for dinner tonight. On me. I’ll treat you.”

You giggle and it makes his cheeks flush even more.

At the end of the day, you are his and he is yours. he knows that. just likes to be reminded

Tsukishima

“What is it?” Tsukki asks when you approach him slowly on the bed.

He was busy reading a book. He leaves the book open faced down on top of his broad chest.

He leans against the palm of his hand, elbow bent and muscles bulging.

Of course, it’s a habit for you to lay next to him, placing your head on top of his tricep.

“Listen to this!” You pull up your phone to play the audio and Tsukki remains silent to listen.

Look at your girl. His eyebrow raises, looking sideways at you.

You see how good she looks? He nods, giving an impressed look.

Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore…

His face contorts into disgust.

When the audio ends, he picks his book right back up and adjusts his glasses.

No more words exchanged. Nothing.

“Uh, Kei?” You scoff, rubbing your nose against his arm

he ignores you

“you’re annoying” before getting up to leave.

“Aht. aht. aht. Where do you think you’re going, baby?”

“Finding another guy cuz it seems like I don’t mean sh—.”

“Don’t finish that sentence. It’s far from the truth. You know it.” Tsukki practically throws his book to the side, not caring if he lost the page he was on.

“I do. But…”

“But what?” He moves closer to the edge of the bed where you stood, taking your hands in his and kissing them.

“Tell me,” he says against your skin.

“I— I—” Instead of saying anything, you press your lips against his.

You can feel his smirk against your lips.

“If.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Wanted.” Kiss. “To kiss.” Kiss. “Just tell me, baby.”

His lips move towards your neck and you feel his arms pull you in close before falling against the bed.

“I want a kiss,” you say shyly.

He chuckles, nipping your ear.

“Okay, pretty.” Tsukki turns you both over, so that he’s on top.

Before giving you a kiss, he stares at you.

And your eyes tell him that you were longing for more than a kiss tonight.

He definitely feels the same way.

Atsumu

“hmm?” He asks mid-crunch on some chips he was stuffing into his mouth

you were simply watching some videos on your phone while cuddling atsumu when he overheard the quote

“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”

“who th’ fawk is talkin? what does he know about whats mine?” he says with his mouth full

You giggle

“Who’s that, baby?” He keeps asking

“just some internet guy, love”

Atsumu turns on his side to pull you in closer.

“get off it. n pay attention to me now”

You raise your brow. “I thought you’re watching sports…” you say as the tv continues to play a live soccer game

“It’s not even volleyball. It’s okay baby. C’mon..” He puckers his lips, making you squeal and push him away.

Your actions make him pout.

“Whats up? I dont mean shit to you anymore?” He mocks the person from the video.

You giggle. “You have garlic cheese breath.”

“I’ll brush my teeth if thats what it takes to get a damn kiss from ya” He excitedly hops up from the bed.

You slapping his butt as he gets up from the mattress makes him raise a finger at you (as if he isn’t used to it)

Hinata

“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”

“Man…” *Hinata says his voice cracking up. Your playful smile disappears.

“Wouldn’t that be a-awful…”

You look at him apologetically.

“Aw baby…that’ll never happen”

Hinata looks dead at you in the eye

“No. tell me. Am I a good boyfriend? Be honest. I can use any critique I can get!”

You sigh

“You’re the sweetest, most loving boyfriend ever. I don’t wanna trade you for anything or anyone, understand Sho?”

He bites his lip, suppressing himself from crying.

“I-I love you, y/n. I mean it.”

You wrap your arms around his neck tightly.

“Well I love ya forever, my sunshine boy”

He holds you close, breathing you in

There’s nothing that feels as good as hugging this man

“Fuck, let me kiss you” *He whispers lowly, already claiming your lips before you get a chance to comprehend his words

You lose your sense of thinking whenever he kisses you

When a small whimper leaves your lips, he chuckles

“Don’t need anyone to tell me how good my baby looks”

And you’re in for an intense love bombing for the next couple of weeks

[unreleasedtaylorsongs]

Hey so, don’t do this!

I’m not dropping their URLs for obvious reasons (They’re both clearly newly made blogs anyway, possibly because they knew what they were doing was rude) but this is the absolute WORST attitude to have. There is so much to unpack here. and it’s kind of a bit comical. This got kind of long, so I’m putting the rest under a cut.

First off, just because you used the word ‘please’ does not mean you’re being nice or have any manners whatsoever. Second, asking a stranger you never talked to before for something, giving them a deadline of a few days, then telling them to ‘be quick’ and that you ‘need’ something from them is actually so so so insane. I learned that lesson when I was twelve, the first year I had access to the internet. Technically, I learned it before then, because the same rules apply in real life. You don’t talk to strangers that way in real life. Too many people online have this idea that societal rules, general kindness and basic empathy don’t apply once they go online, and it’s one of the worst things that has ever happened to the internet. Also, what the hell do you ‘need’ unreleased demos for? Like, genuinely. I can’t even come up with anything as a joke. And uh, “Girl I know you’re active.” Huh??? I don’t care that you know I’m active, I’m not giving you anything regardless of how chronically online I am since you came off so harsh and demanding right from the start. For the next message, I’m assuming they meant ‘pick up the pace’ which, again, is demanding something from a complete stranger who owes you nothing. So no, I’m not giving anything to anyone who feels entitled enough to demand something from a stranger so brazenly. No one in the unreleased community, or any community I can think of, is willing to share things that they have spent years collecting to someone who demands like this.

As for the second person, I’ll admit, I at least have to admire their dedication. A few messages (the screenshot doesn’t show all of them) spanning across two and a half weeks before they eventually gave up. Kind of like a crazy guy on Tinder constantly messaging someone who has ghosted them due to their obsessive behavior. And that’s what this is! Obsessive behavior! I get being obsessed with Taylor Swift and her unreleased stuff; I am too! But it is not normal to demand for someone’s entire library that they spent over a decade collecting, especially someone that you have never messaged before.

I’d like to add: I know I don’t own any of Taylor’s demos. None of the live recordings, remixes, unreleased, demos, or anything of the sort are truly mine. But that does not mean I didn’t put effort into getting them. So much of my library is ripped from YouTube way back in 2013 with a YouTube to MP3 converter, then dragging it into iTunes and editing the metadata track by track, then photoshopping and editing pictures so I can make album covers for them. Some of my audios are from Vimeo (does that even still exist?) and converted into MP3s. Some of my library is downloaded from Tumblr also over ten years ago from blogs that have since been deactivated. Some of my library comes from sketchy MediaFire files that I had to go through one of those weird shortened links that redirect you to the actual download page. I’ve used so many ad blockers and malware protection programs over the years to get so much into my library. And it’s not even easy to share either. Obviously it’s copyrighted, and although I have a personal Google Drive I keep a ton of backups in for half of the files on my computer, I don’t want that to get taken down if I share music through it, and it would. Even websites like Mega eventually (slowly) catches on and deletes your files and gives you a warning. A few of those and your account is gone.

I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m not rewarding awful behavior. I’ve done enough of that and have learned my lesson. I hope these kinds of people can learn, too. I truthfully think these kinds of people should spend a year or so doing it themselves: scouring the internet for carefully guarded files, having to go through the trial and error of this sort of hobby, having to go through the whole ‘malware or audio file’ game, possibly having people say they want to be friends with you just for them to leave once you send what you’ve collected. My point is that it’s not effortless. You do not google ‘Taylor Swift unreleased download’ and get everything I or other collectors have. And you do not get anything from said collectors by stalking their account to see if they’re active and telling them to ‘pick up the pace’ when they don’t send it in the time you allocated for them without their agreement. Just be respectful to those you want something from. Don’t use people. Be compassionate and considerate. Don’t be like… this.

[daymusik]

🐾 Listen, when you see it, you will see JUST HOW MUCH EFFORT I PUT INTO THIS VIDEO and you will understand why I REALLY want you to watch this one's visualizer: https://youtu.be/t7Wh1pJXhOQ 🐾 Purchase this song here: https://daymusik.bandcamp.com/track/spider-dance-daymusik-remix-2022-edit ▶ After years of self-improvement, I have remixed Spider Dance from Undertale for the final time. I am happy with this, and I better be with how LARGE this project became! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ óÓÒò 🐾 Where to begin? Well, the song itself is more or less the same as the last iteration, just MUCH more polished, and more cohesiveness, and this time I actually had an idea of what I was going for. I decided to go for a pseudo-glitch hop style as one would with a remix of a video game soundtrack. Of course, @jacksepticeye is still in this version, or rather his amateur voice-over of Muffet's in-game speech. I decided not to say "featuring Jacksepticeye" this time since this time, I decided to try and "animate" Muffet speaking. He does make an appearance as himself at the end, but that's more of like a cameo/guest appearance rather than a feature. But what do I know? I just didn't want to put him on the face of this song because I want this song to speak for itself, not because Seàn is in it. This song, I will say, has been in development for a few years. The main growl bass instrument that comes in during the drop is one I made myself. I spent SO LONG trying to make a good sound, learning new things, trying different things, until finally, this sound worked well enough. Fun fact about the ritardando into the second drop near the end: I had to shorten the length of that. It still slows down to the same temp (maybe slower, I think), but the ritardando was shortened from, like 12 counts to 8 counts because my computer cannot process ritardandos. Whenever I try playing back the song to listen to it, the whole project lags and stutters IMMENSELY that I had to shorten it, but, of course, that did nothing for me. So that's why it's a fun fact. Because it was pointless. 🐾 Now, onto the video. Hoo boy. In keeping with my previous...whatever of adding simple video editing animations corresponding to the video game sound effects that are happening, I decided to do that again. But, like...different. And, uh...I think I went a little too... hard? Listen, I am typing this at 7 am on 14 January after having started the final editing process of this song at about 5 pm yesterday. I am VERY tired and my words are eluding me. But, long story short, for some reason, I decided to MANUALLY animate Muffet speaking. I'm almost 100% certain there was a much easier way to do that. I'm about 85% certain there is a way that I actually know how to do, but instead, I went manual. These aren't gifs, by the way. I wasn't synchronizing a video to the positions or anything. The last time I made the video for this, I downloaded ALL of the Undertale sprites -- all 6800+ of them -- just to make the video. So I did that again. Each frame isn't in a sprite sheet; they are individual images. I'm not going to go on about how tedious this project has been nor will I, again, expound on how much time and effort I waste on these videos. Instead, I decided to write down some numbers, because, undoubtedly, this is the largest project I have ever made. # of plugins: 174 # of [ZGameEditor Visualizer] layer: 47 # of mixer tracks: 94 # of channels used: 252 (mix of audio, automation, and midi clips) Overall time spent on this project: 67h Video file size: 2.67GB Audio file (wav/mp3) size: 48.8MB/6.59MB óÓÒò ▶ Bandcamp 🐾 https://daymusik.bandcamp.com ▶ MySpace 🐾 https://myspace.com/daymusik197 ▶ Twitter 🐾 https://www.twitter.com/daymusik/ ▶ everywhere else 🐾 https://linktr.ee/Daymusik ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted using PostyBirb

[brimk-personal]

Gonna bite the shit out of my upstairs neighbor this jackass is so fucking loud

I think it’s a different guy from first semester, and moved in after the semester started (room changes are a few weeks after sem start), since I’m p sure there’s a dif name on his name card, and he has way less on his door than the rest of his neighbors (the ras will sometimes just leave the old ones up as they put up new ones every few months)

Anyways. Really don’t like him. Extra loud and prolonged stomp/walking, and worse music traveling compared to the old person. I have like less than 2 weeks until move out, and want to enjoy the time I have left before getting tossed back into my parents house, so I slipped a “pls turn music down” note earlier today. I’d been holding off on notes the last couple months or so, bc the last time I did it. Uh. The fucker came knocking at my door within like 5 mins. Holding up the note (that had clearly been crumpled and flattened back out), asking if it was me. Then like. Chastised me kinda? Telling me I could have “talked” to him if his music was too loud. I tried to force politeness like “oh, well, I’m busy and I didn’t want to intrude, so I figured you’ll see it when you see it!”

And like. Dude. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t know you! I don’t know how you’ll react to someone coming to your door asking you to quiet down! And I don’t want to stand around waiting for you to answer, if you can even hear it over the blaring music! That’s why I used a note!

If that’s really a new guy like I think, it would have been only the 3rd I gave him, if not, he had gone a while without getting one from me, before he kicked his music up again a few weeks into the semester. So it wasn’t like I was constantly dropping notes, and when I did, it was bc it was so loud I could hear the bass covering over my own audio, it had been going particularly long/loud, and you could clearly hear it as soon as you got onto his floor (enough to make out the words/recognize the song if you’d heard it before)

Either the guy had saw the note right as I slid it under, and opened his door soon enough to see someone had went into the stairwell, or he had interrogated his other poor neighbors prior (which. I feel so bad for them. That music has to be so fucking loud right next to them).

As mentioned before, I’m at the end of my rope. It’s been a shitty year. I’m tired. I’m stressed out. I’m dreading having to go back to my parents 24/7 in a few weeks. So I finally bit the bullet a slid him a note earlier today, after dealing with multiple bouts of his music. I did my best to speed to the stairs, and used a dif kind of paper. Then took Gidget out for a good few mins, so idk if he came knocking again

He quieted down a tiny bit. A spike back up in his music is what triggered me to write this tho hahh. Starting mon is 24/7 quiet hours for finals and studying, and if he’s blasting his shit still then, I’m fully in the right to tell an RA about it, and I’m gonna do it. I haven’t done it in the past bc I was worried abt getting ppl in trouble, but idk man I don’t have much sympathy for this guy rn. My ra might not be the person to contact abt it since it’s a diff floor but oh well, I’ll figure it out

[cedar-newman-and-the-end]

1 -- Do you even title journal entries? November 16, 2096

Dad was always so insistent that I keep journals, or audio logs. Said they were... good for posterity, or something. I never kept up the habit for more than a day or two, but I think it might be helpful to have now. I don't know what I'm gonna run into out here, but I don't want to risk losing my memories to some kind of horrible techno-monster.

It's been two years and a bit since everything went to hell. I think, anyway. It's kind of hard to keep track of time when you need to think about surviving each individual day, but I managed to dig up a calendar pretty early on that I was using to keep an eye on things. It's gone now -- I dropped it in a river, or something stupid like that -- but that wasn't too long ago. I found this journal a couple of days later, and I figure I should try and keep track of time somehow, so... yay, I guess? Here we are.

Uh... gods, what to say. It's nice getting stuff out on paper. Being alone with my thoughts in my head is kind of hellish, and I haven't even seen another living person since... since I was last by Mount Adams -- there was a little community, they just called it Adams, that popped up there last year in the old recreation area, and I was there three weeks ago for a little while, just checking things out. I could've stayed if I wanted to -- goodness knows they would've appreciated another set of hands -- but... I dunno. I don't think it's my kind of place.

Gods, has it really already been three weeks? My voice is gonna be so dead next time I talk to someone. If there even is a next time.

I wonder if I can ride deer. Or maybe I can find some horses somewhere, or reindeer, or something. My shoes are really wearing down, and I don't know how to make new ones, so if I'm gonna be travelling much farther, I don't want to use my feet all the time. Man, I wish motorcycles still worked. That'd be really cool.

Also really loud, and maybe inadvisable. But cool.

[next]

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

[bokutoslittlebird]

miya twins and their 19 year old virgin little sister, samu probably caught you trying to fuck yourself and let your dildo be your first since a lot of your friends are teasing you for being a virgin and then atsumu caught you red handed, watching porn. and what would happen if one of them got you preggo? too horny to even think about anything, sorry birdie-san ㅠㅡㅠ

DIVINE. DELICIOUS. you know that audio with the cats? That was me when I read this

Warnings : pregnancy, cunnilingus, f. masturbation, porn video (briefly), a pink dildo, dubcon, incest, manipulation

It’s your nineteenth birthday and while you had a wonderful party with your family, you still feel so young and small. Your brothers are both attending colleges for their own career paths, but you’ve just got out of high school and have no idea what you want to do! You’ve been babied by your brothers, so you don’t have a clear view of the future for yourself that doesn’t include Atsumu and Osamu by your side.

One thing bothered you though: you were still a virgin. Thanks to your brothers, boyfriends were a foreign concept to you. All your friends lost their virginities before their birthdays, but your last friend lost her virginity on her birthday, a present from her boyfriend. You were slow to coming to the party and you told them you’d have lost it by the time your birthday came around, even getting a boyfriend!

A boyfriend quickly discarded by the brooding brothers of yours. A sneer from Atsumu and a glare from Osamu had his tail between his legs. Truly, a shame. You knew your friends would tease you again for the lack of a boy in your life, so you decided to, uh, pretend. A dildo was similar to a penis, right? That’s why they existed.

You didn’t know it’d be so hard! You have to have an orgasm to properly lose your virginity, that’s what your friends said. Pumping the silicone piece into your tiny cunt was harder than expected, only fitting half in before you started to pump it. It sent a tingling down in your tummy, but it was more effort than expected. Noises or frustration mingled with your forced moans, whining as your wrists started to hurt.

Osamu was doing his homework when he heard you make a noise of frustration, huffing and puffing. He didn’t pay too much attention to it, but then you made a similar noise. So, time to investigate. He wouldn’t want you to exert so much energy, you’re his baby sister! He expected to see you trying to get something off a high shelf, your shirt riding up to show your smooth stomach or you to be under your bed, shorts-clad— even better, panty-clad rump in the air. He did not expect to see you on your bed, legs spread and pumping a pink silicone dildo into your cunt. If only that was his—

“‘Tsu- ‘Tsumu,” you moan out, biting on your lower lip. Osamu’s mouth drops into a frown, growling at his twin’s name dropping from your mouth. You turn to look at the door, suddenly opened only to be slammed shut.

A startled gasp makes him stop in front of you, eyes burning with an unknown desire. “‘Samu! What’re you doing?” He just looks at you, eyes glancing at your hand still between your legs. Your eyes go down, shame burning in your face. “I’m trying to be a big girl. I wanna lose my virginity,”

“Why didn’t ya ask me?” He asks, putting his weight on your bed. You panic and close your legs, moving the dildo out of you. “And why ya callin’ out ‘Tsumu’s name? Huh? Am I not good enough?”

“N-No! That’s not it! ‘Samu, you’re scaring me!” You cry out, his large hands spreading your legs. Your puffy pussy is fully on display for him, his eyes noticing the lack of slick. “Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m gonna help. Wanna be a big girl? I can help,” he says. He doesn’t move, though, waiting for your permission. Even though you’re hesitant — he’s your brother! You’re nodding your head, fingers soon finding themselves in Osamu’s darkened hair. He stopped dying it, so it’s completely natural again. His face is buried in your cunt, lapping at your folds as your moans aren’t forced, head thrown back as Osamu tongue fucks you. When he sticks two fingers into you, he doesn’t expect you to be so wet, a drastic difference from moments ago. He moves to wrap his lips around your clit, walls tightening as you finally release on his fingers and face.

When Osamu comes up, he’s licking his lips while you pant. “Did.. did I lose my virginity?” You ask him, tears clinging to your lashes.

“What d’ya mean?” You explain what your friends told you, all while he strips off his shirt and peppers kisses on your stomach, rising your shirt up as he does. “Nah, I gotta cum inside if you wanna lose it. You gonna let me do that?” The no hesitation in the nodding of your head has him grinning, straightening himself as he rubs his hardened cock through his pants. Today, fantasy becomes reality. “Alright, I’ll go slow,”

Even with his slow sinking into you, you’re gasping and clinging to his biceps for dear life, tears staining your pillow as he splits you open. He’s far bigger than the dildo, but the slick from your orgasm makes it much easier for him to slide in. He kisses your cheek, telling you how good you are. It’s the little praise that has you encouraging him to keep going, and he does. He keeps pushing in until he’s bumping against your cervix, almost completely inside of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him locked against you.

“Don’t worry, lil sis. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he shushes, brushing your tears as he stays still. An occasional hiccup has his heart hurting, but he knows you’ll feel good eventually. Well, even if you don’t, he’ll start. When your legs loosen, dropping back to the plush bed, he starts moving. He’s still slow, spreading your walls for his thick cock as you continue to adjust. It’s not until you’re begging him for more does he pick up the pace, slamming his hips against yours. He has to cover your mouth so you don’t alert the whole house he’s fucking you, your screams of pleasure coming out. They’re muffled, but he can hear how much you’re enjoying it. It urges him to go even faster, grunting as he chases his own high.

Another screams rips from you, walls tightening as you cream on his fat cock, eyes rolling as toes curl. It’s enough to send Osamu over the edge, groaning as he buries himself even deeper inside, pumping you full of his cum, you milking every drop. He kisses you, your panting mouth perfect for him to give you a passionate kiss, staying deep inside you. He breaks the kiss, “I love ya, little sis,”

“Love you, too, nii-san,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s all you ever wanted, to be a big girl. It also brings you and Osamu closer together, you often bouncing around the idea to help him in his shop once he gets it set up. When you go into his room, the door locking behind you, you miss the way Atsumu glares. He has a feeling you’re not studying with Osamu, but there’s nothing to suggest otherwise.

Well, when Osamu is late from coming back from college, Atsumu is the only one home. It’s a small breath of fresh air, relaxing his tired muscles after a long practice match. When he hears small grunts and moans from your bedroom, he goes to investigate. You shouldn’t be home, let alone have anyone with you. The creaking of the floorboards doesn’t stop the noises from your room, Atsumu’s curiosity spiking. Peeking into your open door, he sees you on your back, legs spread open as your laptop plays an obscene video, the moans and grunts coming from the speakers. Your occasional moan is muffled by the shirt hem in your mouth, but it’s dropped when you moan out Osamu’s name, eyes rolling back as your fingers work on your clit.

Atsumu glares at the mention of Osamu’s name, shutting the door that has you jumping and struggling to explain yourself. “Ya think ‘Samu’s better than me? Is that it?” They’re so similar, it’s striking. The hungry eyes, full of anger and lust, they look so much like Osamu’s, but the light blond hair reminds you it’s Atsumu. “What’re you- Yer watchin’ sibling porn? Thinking of your big brother? ‘S that it?”

“No, it’s not what you think, ‘Tsumu!” Unlike Osamu, Atsumu’s one to take what he wants. He moves the laptop off the bed, spreading your legs as you squirm and struggle. “Lemme go!”

“Brats like you need to be put in place, don’t’cha know? You’re fucking soaked, getting off on your big bro that much?” You’re crying and still trying to kick him off, but it just turns him on even more. You’re still innocent and so naive in his eyes, it’s nothing for him to just take that from you. His cock is already hard, begging to sink into your warm depths. “You gonna let me fuck you? It’ll be like that video you were watching,”

You’re shaking your head, pushing at his chest as he leans down to press kisses to your neck. “C’mon, lil sis. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You trust me, right?” It’s a question that has your movements stopping, glossy eyes looking at Atsumu. He’s smiling, your big brother not showing any hint of malice. You sniffle, his thumbs swiping away the silver droplets on your cheeks.

“As long as you promise not to hurt me, okay ‘Tsumu?” You ask him, big doe eyes of innocence as you look at him. He grins and kisses your lips, licking your bottom lip. A whispered breath of ‘wouldn’t dream of it’ is all you hear before his mushroom head is pushing at your entrance. He’s just as big as Osamu, but it’s still hard to take in. You’re nice and slick, though, Atsumu notes. All from watching some incest porn, it’s almost funny to him how all you had to do was ask, no reason to hide it! Him and Osamu have been dreaming of keeping you all to themselves, there’s no reason for you to hide your desires.

Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t let you adjust, immediately pulling out to thrust back in. It’s sharp and rough, knocking the air from your lungs as your head gets thrown back. Atsumu’s quick to attach his lips to your neck, sucking the flesh and digging his teeth into the skin. It’s a way to show he’s claimed you, as if he doesn’t plan on coming inside. That’s his goal — mark you inside and out. With your arms above your head, grasping the pillows, there’s no reason for him to not. Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit and flicks it, sending shockwaves through you as you scream and cream around his cock, thighs tightening around him. He’s not too far behind you, rutting against you as he paints your insides white, sending you into another orgasm, juices spraying against his abdomen.

“Lookie there! You just squirted all over me,” he chuckles, rubbing your shaking thighs. You’re overstimulated, so he doesn’t push another round. There’ll be time for that later.

A week later, you find yourself in a dilemma when your clothes won’t fit. Worried about gaining weight, you confide in your big brothers who give you a test. “Just pee on it. It’ll tell you if you’re overeating,” they said. They’ve never lied to you before! When those two lines pop up on the plastic tool, you show it to them, confused. They tell you you’re pregnant, but then comes the question. Who’s the dad? Really, does it matter? They have a lot of love to give you and they’re twins. Your child is gonna look like both of them no matter what.

[mandos-sluts]

The Botched Mission

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dubious consent, degradation, daddy kink, mutual masterbation, dirty talk, voyeurism

Summary: You work for the Empire and are tasked with spying on Mando. You don’t do a great job at concealing your efforts.

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!

You were born and raised in the Empire. Your mother was an admiral in the Imperial Security Bureau under Moff Gideon and your father died in battle during the Great Purge. The more you grew up, the more you questioned the Empire’s actions and ideology, but it didn’t really matter. There was no getting out for you— your entire livelihood was supported by the Empire.

Your commanding officer has given you a mission on Tatooine. You are to go undercover as a mechanic and surveill the Mandalorian Din Djarin. It was known that he knew of the force-sensitive child’s location and had dealings with other Jedi, thus, he was of great interest to the Empire.

***********************

The Mandalorian’s ship is scheduled to undergo maintenance for two days on Tatooine. You stand in the hangar and watch as the beat up Razor Crest lands. The ship’s hatch opens and there standing tall is the Mandalorian, covered from head to toe in shiny silver beskar. He walks confidently down the ramp and towards you.

You open your mouth to introduce yourself when he tosses a bag of credits to you. “I need the repairs completed by tomorrow afternoon.” He says in a deep voice, towering over you and gazing into your eyes.

Shit. You’re….you’re really attracted to him. The way he carries himself is so hot— his assertive demeanor, his voice. “Yeah, absolutely, no– no problem sir.” You stutter out. “Um, I’m y/n.”

Mando nods his head and then walks right past you, leaving you standing there with your panties damp.

He exits the hangar and all he can think about is you. Fuck, since when were mechanics so beautiful?

You shake your head and try to focus. Heading into the ship, you begin installing hidden cameras all over. An actual mechanic employed by the Empire meanwhile gets to work making repairs.

You consider waiting around for Mando to return for the evening, just so you can interact with him more, but once it gets dark, you head to the inn that you’re staying at. Mando arrives back to his ship a little after you return to your room.

Your boss made it clear that she wants you to watch him whenever he’s not sleeping. Which honestly is stupid, it’s not like he’s going to talk to himself and reveal important information? You lie back in your bed with the screen on your lap and watch the live feed of the cameras in the ship, already bored out of your mind. The camera’s are super high quality; the picture and audio are both crystal clear. A few minutes later, you see the hatch open and watch Mando enter the ship.

Mando notices the cameras almost instantly. To be fair, you always half-assed your missions; you really don’t care about advancing the Empire’s agenda or doing your job well. Mando lets out a long annoyed sigh. He knew you didn’t look like a mechanic!

His first thought is to take down all of the cameras, apprehend you, and turn you over to the New Republic. There are only a few lodges in town and it wouldn’t be hard for him to track you down. On the other hand...he figures he could have some fun with this.

Pretending he isn’t aware of the cameras, Mando puts his weapons away in his arsonal just like he does every night.

Shit, you think to yourself. His collection of weapons is massive, he could kill you with such little effort if he wanted to.

Mando heads up to the cockpit and slumps down in the pilot’s chair. He stretches his legs out and takes a deep breath. Bringing his hand down to his crotch, he starts rubbing himself over his pants.

Your eyes widen and you sit up in your bed. Is– is he doing what it looks like he’s doing? You feel arousal shoot to your pussy as you watch a tent form in Mando’s pants.

Mando knows you’re watching him, and he saw how nervous he made you earlier today, so he knows that you’re too curious and horny to turn it off. He unbuttons his pants and releases his long, thick cock. He takes his length in his hand and spreads his precum around up and down his shaft, letting out a moan.

Your panties are soaked at this point and your pussy is begging to be touched. You bring your hand down and start rubbing your clit over your shorts, your eyes are glued to the screen.

Mando starts pumping his cock up and down, faster and faster. You’ve never been so turned on in your entire life. You trail your hand into your pants and start circling your wet clit. You know this is super creepy of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Mando’s breathing picks up as he fucks his hand even harder.

“Ah fuck.” He spits out.

Ugh his voice is so sexy–

“Fuck, y/n. Yeah, that’s a good girl.”

Your heart drops and your hand freezes. He just said your name...He’s jerking off thinking about you. Did you even tell him your name?

“That’s right, y/n, ride my cock, pretty girl.” He breathes out.

You’re shocked and your cunt starts throbbing. Mando has the biggest cock you have ever seen, like...holy shit. You can’t handle how horny you are right now. The fact that you can’t hop on his lap and start bouncing on his dick makes you want to cry. You start whimpering as you glide your fingers along your slick and watch Mando growl your name.

Mando grips the arm of his chair as he feels his orgasm approaching. He’s so hard knowing that you’re watching him.

“Ahhhhhh fuuuckkkkk, yyy/nnn” Mando moans as you watch his cum spew out of him.

Feeling your own orgasm coming on, you quickly turn off the monitor, close your eyes, and start pumping your finger in and out of your hole. It takes you less than twenty seconds to cum, thinking about Mando saying your name while jerking off.

You don’t bother to turn the monitor back on for the rest of the night. You go to sleep replaying those images of Mando in your head over and over again.

************************

The next morning, Mando leaves his ship for the day at dawn and you head over to the hangar a few hours later. The mechanic is finishing up the final repairs when you arrive.

In case Mando asks you about the repairs, the mechanic gives you an overview of everything she did. You listen intently....for about a minute, but then end up inadvertently tuning her out, thinking about what you witnessed last night.

“Got it?” She says, jolting you back to reality.

“Y-yes totally.” You lie.

The mechanic leaves and you grab a seat at a table in the hangar, waiting patiently for Mando to return.

A few hours later, Mando struts into the hangar. He strolls right past you up to the Crest. “The ship done?” He asks shortly, not even looking back at you.

“Yes, everything is in order sir, have a good flight.” You say nervously, turning around to exit.

“Wait.” He says, stopping you in your tracks. “I have a few questions before I depart.” Mando says as he opens the hatch.

“Um, s-sure.” You say, following him into the ship.

Mando starts up the Crest and does a lap around the first level, examining all the areas where work was presumably done. The ship is in great shape, but he knows that you didn’t do any of it.

“Are the front deflectors operating at full capacity?” Mando asks in his deep, modulated voice.

“Uh, y-yeah.” You respond. You’re standing against the wall trying your best to keep cool and act like you know what he’s talking about.

“Did you fix the leak in the carbonite system?” He asks.

“Y-yes.”

“How did you get the ion acceleration chamber running again?” He questions without looking up, continuing to walk around and inspect the ship.

“Uh, um–”

Mando turns his gaze to you. “Did you rewire the calcinator or instal a new thruster nozzle?

“Um I did it by rewiring the– the thunder novel...”

Mando begins walking toward you. “How is the repulsor grille functioning?”

“I– I um...I just, I– the ship–”

Mando is now standing directly in front of you, staring into your desperate intimidated eyes. “What’s the matter, little girl, don’t know the answer?” He says moving even closer to you.

“N-no I know–”

“Can you tell me about the work you did on the engines?” He interrupts. “Or why don’t you tell me about these cameras you installed first.” He says, reaching over you and yanking one of the cameras out of the wall above you.

Your heart drops. “I-I didn’t put those there.” You stutter out.

“Drop the act, y/n. I know you’re not a mechanic. I know you work for the Empire.”

Fuck, you are so busted–

“And I know you watched me last night. Sweetheart, it’s written all over your face.” He says lightly, grabbing your chin and pulling your head up so that you’re looking directly into his visor.

Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel your face is bright red. You’re trembling with fear but you are also so turned on. Your pussy is throbbing as your breath heavily and stare into Mando’s visor with doe eyes.

“I—”

“Tell me, pretty girl.” He interrupts you again. “Did you like watching me jerk off?” He asks in a deep tone as he runs his other hand down your body to your waist.

“Y-yes.” You whisper with humiliation.

Mando brings his hand between your legs and dances his fingers on your crotch. “Did you touch yourself while you watched me?”

You nod your head slowly.

“What a fuckin naughty girl.” He says pushing you hard against the wall. He pushes your shorts to the side and slides his fingers into your panties. You let out a high-pitched exhale, still maintaining eye contact with him

“Damn. So wet already.” He says in a low rough voice. “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Those Storm Trooper boys can’t fuck you good, can they?” He says mockingly. “Maybe I should turn you over to the New Republic.” He utters as his other hand lightly grabs your throat. “Or, maybe I should come up with my own form of punishment for you.” Mando says as he thrusts his middle finger up inside of you.

You let out a gasp and your mouth falls open as he starts pumping your hole. “I’ve never fucked a slut from the Empire before.” He says, tightening his grip on your throat. You’re so wet you can hear his finger moving in and out of you.

“What do you think, you little criminal?” He says in a sultry tone.

“Ahhh!” You moan out. “I– I think you should– ahh– punish me, Mando.” You whine, batting your eyes at him as he drives his finger in and out of your cunt.

Mando grinds his bulge against your stomach. “Yeah? Then you’d better be an obedient little whore for me.”

Mando pulls his fingers out of you. He abruptly shoves down your shorts and rips off your top. “What are you–”

“Shut up.” He snaps as he turns you around and shoves you back against the wall. “Hands against the wall.” You do as you’re told.

You hear your shirt rip again and all of the sudden your vision goes black as you feel Mando tying fabric around your eyes. You’re naked except for a thong and blind fold, with your cheek and palms flat against the metal wall. One by one, you hear pieces of Mando’s armor hitting the floor. *see gif* Then you feel his bulge grind against your ass and one hand wrapping around your throat while the other grabs your tit.

His lips come to your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a fuckin week.” He breathes in your ear. “Your pretty little cunt is gonna be overflowing with my cum when I’m done with you.” He growls, roughly kneading your tit.

“Yes daddy” You moan in response.

Mando loves that you called him daddy. He grabs your hair and pulls it back and down, tilting your head back and making your back arch while your hands stay flat on the metal wall. With his hold still on your hair, you feel his warm lips plant onto yours, his facial hair rubbing against your skin. His lips move down your cheek to your neck, and he sucks on your smooth skin while pulling your hair back. Pulling away, he can already see the bruise of the hickey forming on your neck.

Mando pulls away from you and steps back, taking a moment to admire how vulnerable you look, blindfolded and panting against his wall. Then you feel his hand smack your ass check, and you let out a yelp. He does it twice more against the other cheek and you can’t help but cry out.

“Shut up, slut. I told you I was gonna punish you.” He says as he pulls your g-string up, making its fabric drag and pull against your clit. He spanks you again. Arousal shoots to your cunt, and it is dripping wet.

Mando spins you around again and slams your back against the wall. He once more grabs your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck so perfectly for him. Mando grabs your ass and pulls you up against him. “Open your mouth.” He commands in a stern voice, still pulling your hair down.

Your lips part wide and Mando bites your bottom lip before spitting in your mouth. “Swallow.” He orders. You close your mouth and swallow his sweet saliva down your throat.

Mando picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around him. He sets you down on a metal table and rips your thong off of you. Your legs are wide open, your pussy splayed out on the table for Mando to admire as he pulls his shirt over his head. He runs two fingers up and down slick and then shoves them in your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and show me how needy this little cunt is?” He whispers in your ear while you suck his fingers.

He removes his fingers from your mouth. “Yes.” You breathe out.

“Yes, what?” Mando says slapping your outer thigh.

“I– I’m gonna be a good girl for you, daddy. And sh–show you how– how needy I am for your cock.” You stammer out.

Mando hums in response as he lines his tip up with your entrance. One of your hands is wrapped around his neck and the palm of your other hand is flat against his warm hard chest.

You feel his warm precum against your tender skin as he pushes the head of his dick into you. Your mouth falls open and you gasp. He does a few thrusts with half his length and it’s already more than you can handle.

“Fuck!” You spit out in a high pitched voice.

“Shit–” Mando snaps. “How are you so fuckin tight?” He says, seeming genuinely frustrated.

You’re being so stretched out you can’t form a response. You just sit there, wrapped around Mando, breathing heavily with your mouth agape, trying your best to adjust to his size.

“You’re squeezing the shit out of my cock. Ah you feel so fuckin good.” Mando groans in your ear as he pushes more of his member inside of you. He then abruptly snaps his hips and thrusts all the way inside of you.

You scream out “Fuck!” And dig your nails into his back.

Mando starts pumping in you slowly. “You’re doing so good, baby girl, taking my big cock in your tight pussy so well.”

He brings more of his length out and picks up the pace.“Ahhhhh Mando! Fuck!” You cry.

“What’d you call me?” He says, snapping his hips into you hard.

“Daddy!” You squeal. “Daddy! I–I’m sorry! Daddy fuck your cock is– is so big!” You wine between thrusts. He puts his lips on your mouth.

“I know, pretty girl” He whispers in your mouth. “You’re doing good.”

He starts thrusting faster and you lose control of the moans that escape your lips. You’re holding onto him for dear life as he pounds into you, his hands clutching your hips. Mando pushes you down so that you’re lying on the table and swings one of your legs up on his shoulder, providing him an even better angle, allowing him to drive his cock right into your G-spot.

“Ahhh daddy, yes! Fuck! Right there, please!” You scream.

Mando holds your leg against his chest with one arm and brings his other hand to grip your throat.

“Do– do the Imps know they have a filthy– ahh– filthy fuckin cockslut working for them?” He mocks. “What would they say if they knew you agreed to be your target’s dirty little fucktoy? Huh?”

All you can do in response is scream and moan. Mando removes his hand from your throat and drags it down your stomach. He starts circling your clit and you begin to see stars. Your whole body starts shaking and your cunt clenches down on Mando’s cock. “Fuck, I– I’m gonna cum!” You exclaim. Your pussy starts pulsing like never before as you feel your orgasm overtake you.

“Yes, ahhh fuck! This pussy was– was made for my cock, shit.” Mando says as he rides you through your orgasm. He loves watching you come apart on a table in his ship, blindfolded and helpless.

Mando can feel his own climax nearing and he clasps your hips tight. His fast thrusts lose rhythm and you can feel his cock getting stiff in your cunt. He pumps his cock a few more times and then you feel his warm cum surge inside of you. “Fuuuccckkk.” Mando grunts as his white juices fill your hole.

He pulls out of you and scoots you to sit further back on the table as he redresses. You can feel his cum trickling out of your pussy onto the cold metal table beneath you. You close your legs— without him pressed up against you and without your sight, you feel so exposed and awkward.

You hear the hiss of his helmet and then feel his hands pushing your legs back open again, displaying your abused and leaking cunt. Mando unties the makeshift blind fold, and you see him standing fully clothed and armored in front of you. He wraps one hand around your waist and pushes your thigh further apart with his other hand.

“You look so pretty like this.” He says in his deep, modulated voice. “Come on.” He says with his hand still around your waist, motioning you off the table. You hop off and your legs immediately give out, your body falling to the floor.

Mando scoffs and pulls you up. “I told you you wouldn’t be able to walk.”

“You’re a man of your word.” You say sarcastically.

“Guess that means I’ll have to uninstall all the fuckin cameras you hid all over my ship.” Mando says as he sweeps you off your feet. He carries you into his sleeping quarters.

“No. Keep them.” You say with a side smile as he lays you down on the bed. “I like watching you jerk off. Especially when you jerk off while moaning my name.” You pull the blankets to cover you.

Mando sits on the bed that you’re lying on “Fuck.” He says caressing your cheek. “If you didn’t work for the Empire I’d take you with me.” Mando says bluntly.

“Take me with you, Mando!” You say sitting up. “I don’t wanna work for the Empire. Fuck the Empire. I’ve been looking for a way for so long.”

Mando smiles underneath his helmet. “Well, good thing you did such a shit job at your mission.”

**************************************

Masterlist

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Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75 @tacticalsparkles @kenoobiwan @shark-s @theamuz @blackrose8425

[five-rivers]

Solutions to Nonlinear Equations

For @currentlylurking for the Phic Phight.  :)

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“Ancients, Vlad.  I’m not rejecting you because I’m a rebellious teenager and you’re an adult, I’m rejecting you because you’re incredibly creepy.”

Vlad sniffed in what he hoped was an aristocratic manner and raised an eyebrow, minutely adjusting his grip on Daniel to keep him pinned to the floor.  

“We’re human-ghost hybrids, Daniel.  I’d hoped that you’d have realized by now that we are meant to be ‘creepy.’”

Daniel squirmed and began to mutter into the carpet. “Clockwork never acts like this, I’m fine with him—”

Vlad pulled back as if burned.  He hadn’t heard that name in—in—

In a long time.  

Years.  

The thought was almost expelled from his head when Daniel managed to elbow him in the jaw hard enough to make him see stars. Before he knew it, Daniel had slipped from his grasp and zoomed away.  

Whatever aspersions Vlad cast on Daniel’s mastery of his ghostly abilities, the boy was fast.  When he put his mind to escaping instead of picking a fight, he managed it more often than not, to Vlad’s great frustration.  Hence Vlad’s usual strategy of needling the younger half-ghost until fighting was the only thing on Daniel’s mind.  

He set down on a nearby roof.  There went his plans for the day.  Which, admittedly, had consisted of distracting Daniel while his ghostly minions set up a nasty surprise for him at the school, hence making him fail his test, which would, in turn, convince Maddie and Jack to let Vlad set Daniel up with a tutor, something he had suggested to them earlier, and—

Well.  Daniel would find them, now, no doubt.  

Ah, well.  

He had more important things on his mind, now.  Such as, how in two worlds did Daniel know Clockwork?  Because Daniel never just said things like that.  He barely knew anything about ghost culture.  He wouldn’t know to bring up obscure, secretive, ghost historical figures.  He wouldn’t know what that particular name would mean to Vlad.  

Tongues of fire flared out of his fingers, bringing a measure of stability to the gyrations of his core and his emotions.  

Daniel knew Clockwork.  And, it seemed, met him with some regularity.  Enough for him to compare his actions to Vlad’s.  

Would that ghost never be satisfied with ruining Vlad’s life?  Was he not satisfied with—

He cut off the thought, shaking his head.  Never mind that.  

What Vlad needed to do was find Clockwork.  Which meant inducing Danny to go to him at a time when Vlad when Vlad could follow.  Which meant determining when he had visited Clockwork in the past.  An undertaking to be sure.  

He closed his eyes and teleported to his lab beneath his mansion.  

“Maddie!” he called out, even before his body had fully reformed.  

The hologram flickered to life with a faint crackled from the projector.  “What is it, sugarpie?” it asked with a smile.

“Review the audio recordings from Fentonworks,” ordered Vlad.  “Search for the term ‘Clockwork.’  Report findings to me.”

“Sure thing, honey!”

Vlad had to review the cheerfulness settings on the Maddie program.  Maddie was upbeat, but not that upbeat.  This was almost sickly sweet.  

He threw himself into a nearby chair.  

Clockwork.  He thought he’d never hear that name again.  Not after he’d been literally and figuratively ghosted by him.  

He telekinetically pulled a book off his shelf. He ran his fingers over the leather tooling on the cover.  The book had been given to him by Clockwork, years ago, when he was still in that hospital.

Clockwork had been the one to first show him the Ghost Zone, and all the wonders in it.  Clockwork had been his friend, his only friend, through that long, agonizing hospital stay. He had been supportive, wonderful, kind. He visited often, though not on a regular schedule.  He’d helped Vlad ride out the waves of misery and anger that so often threatened to overwhelm him.  

Then, without warning, nothing.  

No goodbye.  The last time he left, he had even said something along the lines of ‘see you soon,’ although the memory was frayed from age and Vlad could no longer recall the exact words.  For a long time, Vlad had worried something disastrous had happened to Clockwork. But then he had finally managed to build his own portal, reach the Ghost Zone under his own power, and, according to every search he did, every line of inquiry that bore fruit, Clockwork was just fine.  

Vlad had been furious.  He had been betrayed.  He had spent the better half of a decade trying to plot revenge against Clockwork, before realizing that was akin to plotting revenge against a god and turning his sights to a more manageable target.  

Now…

Now, Vlad just wanted answers.  Both as to the reason behind his abandonment and as to why Clockwork was apparently repeating history with Daniel.  

“Sweetie pie,” said the hologram, with a chime, “audio processing complete.  There are over ninety-nine instances where the word ‘clockwork’ is mentioned.  Would you like to play the selected files?”

“Yes,” said Vlad.  “Include the video portions where available, and the thirty seconds immediately prior to and following the mention.”

He turned his attention to the nearest screen.  He had a lot of videos to watch.  

There was an envelope pinned to it.  It was sealed with wax, impressed with the image of a pocket watch and the initials CW.  Vlad attempted, and failed, to suppress the growl that grew in the back of his throat. Was this a joke to Clockwork?

He tore the envelope from the screen, ripped it open with equal viciousness, and began to read.

.

Three cups sat on the tea service tray next to the teapot.

“Are you expecting someone else,” asked Danny, “or am I going to break one of these?”

Clockwork chuckled as he began to pour the tea.  “The former,” he said.  “Although you may always surprise me with the latter.”

He handed Danny his cup.  Danny inhaled deeply.  It smelled sweet.  “What is it?” he asked.  

“A chamomile blend,” said Clockwork.  “For calm.”

“I think Sam drinks chamomile before she goes to bed,” observed Danny, offhandedly.  “Who’s coming?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Danny made a face.  “Do you have to be mysterious all—”

The front door of Clockwork’s lair slammed open, and Danny jolted forward in alarm – the only people who regularly did that were the Observants, who didn’t much care for Danny – but Clockwork put a steadying hand on his shoulder and rewound his tea into his cup.

“Clockwork!” came the expected yell.  The yeller, however…

“Is that Vlad?” asked Danny, not quite scandalized, but more than a little surprised.  

“Why, yes,” said Clockwork.  

“Did you – Clockwork, did you invite him here?”

“Other than the Observants,” said Clockwork, “no one can enter unless I will it.”  He took a sip of his tea.  

“But,” started Danny.  

Clockwork raised a hand.  “Don’t worry, he’ll find us soon enough.”  He repurposed the hand to pat Danny’s knee.  “And even should he prove to be in a combative mood, I will not allow you to come to harm.  You are safe here, Daniel.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Danny, looking away, towards the door in the sitting room through which Vlad would presumably enter.  

Sure enough, a few seconds later Vlad half-flew half-skidded into Clockwork’s sitting room.  He leveled an accusatory finger at Clockwork.  “You!” he proclaimed, with a great deal of venom.  

“Hello, Vladimir, I’ve poured you some tea.  Why don’t you sit down?  I understand it has been some time.”

“You under-?  No!  I will not sit down!  I will not drink your tea.  Not after you abandoned me for over a decade, just like that bumbling oaf—”

“Hey!” interjected Danny, not only because Vlad had once again insulted his father, but because he could tell that Clockwork, regardless of his stoic façade, was actually quite upset.  

“Don’t interrupt me, Daniel,” snapped Vlad.  “You don’t know what this, this ghost is. What he does.  You don’t know that he gets close to you, makes you think you’re friends, and then drops you without a moment’s notice.  Did you think it was funny to string along a man in dire straits? Did you?”

“I did not abandon you, Vladimir, I—”

Vlad scoffed and went on a tirade that Danny honestly found hard to parse.  But it sounded like Vlad and Clockwork had known each other in the past and then fallen out of contact in a way that aggravated Vlad’s abandonment issues.  Which didn’t seem like Clockwork at all, but Vlad sounded extremely certain and insistent, and Clockwork’s upset was actually finding its way into his voice, now.  Danny didn’t—

With all the force and abruptness of epiphany, Danny realized what was going on here.  

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Danny, putting down his cup. “Vlad, breathe or whatever.  Clockwork, you did tell Vlad that you experience time nonlinearly, right?”

“Of course,” said Clockwork, clearly offended.

“But Vlad, ah, had you gone through natural portals often when you met Clockwork?  Or, like, did you ever see him without him initiating contact?”

“I didn’t have my portal built yet, Daniel, so, no.”

Danny turned to Clockwork.  “Why did you-?  No that doesn’t matter.  Haaauuuhh, Clockwork, do you have-?”

Clockwork waved a hand and a whiteboard appeared.  

“Thanks,” said Danny, picking a marker up from the little shelf on the bottom.  He uncapped it, then recapped it.  “Actually, before that.  Vlad—” he pointed at Vlad, who looked about one second from exploding “—you have some idea of how old Clockwork is, right?  Or at least how old ghosts can get?”

“Yes, Daniel,” said Vlad, managing to overlay his supercilious ‘I know better than you’ attitude over his still obvious anger.

“Okay, great.  So, just to establish, Clockwork has been around at least since, uh, beginning of time?”

“Give or take,” agreed Clockwork.  “Although I have not experienced it all directly.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “Just, already, his perception of time is different from our because of age differences.”

Vlad looked slightly less angry, and slightly closer to curious.  

“But, then, there’s the larger issue,” continued Danny.  This time his uncapping of the marker was decisive.  He drew a flat, straight, horizontal line across the whiteboard.  “This is our timeline.  We deal with time linearly.  We’ve also got, I don’t know, parallel timelines, like this.”  He drew several more lines.  “You following so far?”

“Yes, Daniel, I’ve read my share of science fiction.”

He was probably rolling his eyes.  Curse his solid-colored red eyes.  It made interpreting his looks and figuring out where he was looking during a fight much more difficult.  

“Anyway, Clockwork isn’t on any of these lines. Because he experiences time nonlinearly.”  He drew a squiggly up and down line on the board that resembled the world’s saddest sine wave.  Or cosine wave.  There wasn’t a y-axis on the not-quite-graph, so it wasn’t like anyone could tell the difference.  They were effectively the same.  

And Vlad still made fun of him for failing math. Danny knew plenty about math.  He just didn’t have time to do the work.  Mostly because of Vlad.  

“Now, that, that is Clockwork’s timeline.  It isn’t always in contact with ours.  It’s, like, solutions to a system of equations. Nonlinear equations,” he specified, in case it had been too long since Vlad had encountered basic high-school-level algebra.

“It is somewhat more complicated than that, Daniel,” said Clockwork, exasperated.  “It’s more of—"  

“Yeah, but this gets the idea across more than the whole parade metaphor, doesn’t it?”

“I would say not.  This doesn’t even begin to touch on my abilities.”

“That’s because we’re just talking about your perception of time,” said Danny.  He considered for a moment.  “And also your ability to interact with our timeline.”

“Which includes my ability to perceive multiple timelines.”

“But that’s complicated, and I still don’t get it,” complained Danny.  

“It is less complicated than what you are currently trying to explain.”

“To you maybe, but the whole point of this is that you aren’t seeing things the same way we are.  You disappeared on Vlad, what, a decade ago?”  He looked to Vlad for confirmation.  

“A decade is hardly any time at all,” said Clockwork with exasperation.  He sipped at his tea.  

“It was fifteen years.”

Clockwork made a somewhat dismissive motion with a gloved hand.  “It’s a tiny fraction of your life as a whole.”

“It’s… closer to a third of his current lifetime,” said Danny with a wince.  “Or a fourth?  I don’t know how old you are, dude.”

“I went to college with your parents.”

“I know, and you were already graying then. Your age is weirdly hard to place.”

Vlad gave Danny a look, but his body language was no longer screaming ‘I’m going to beat the snot after you.’  Danny counted that as a win under the current circumstances.  He disliked Vlad, but in a fight with Clockwork… Well, Clockwork could demolish just about anyone.  

Not that Clockwork would.  Just that he could.  

“Daniel—”

“Please, Vladimir.  Just sit down.  Try the tea. I made it for you.  I knew you would be upset, although I could not see exactly why.”  Clockwork was almost pouting, now.  “Fifteen years is such a short time.”

“Clockwork, I’m fifteen.”

“I know,” said Clockwork, patting Danny on the knee. “Your timeline is so small.  And cute.”

Vlad was now distinctly on his back foot, offput and disarmed.  “His timeline is cute?”

“It is.  Don’t worry, yours is almost as cute.”

Vlad opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish. Danny pushed the whiteboard away.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he said.  “Like I said, different perception of time.”

“I really didn’t mean to make you feel abandoned, Vladimir.  I simply wanted to give you some time to, ah, how should I put this?  Have space?  Find yourself?”

Vlad sat heavily on the couch.  

“You get used to it,” said Danny.  “But, Clockwork, do you think you can talk him into having fewer evil plans?  Because, really.  There are way too many.  Like, one a week.  They’re destroying my grades.  Have you ever seen anyone else who had weekly evil plans?”

“Evil plans, Vladimir?  Really?”

[frodo-with-glasses]

Audiobook Review: “The White Rider”

Dude it has been so long since I listened to one of these audiobook chapters that Gimli’s huffing and stamping in the cold—which is the very first thing that you hear in this recording—is like hearing an old friend :-D

All the little details, dude. The flapping and jingling of Gimli’s clothes. His heavy breathing, and that little “hoogh” before he speaks the second time. It makes you HEAR how cold it is, and it’s excellent.

“He called to the others.” Aragorn, distantly: “hey!”

Legolas’ little chuckle at “after that, presumably he sprouted wings and flew away into the trees” is hard to hear but Very GoodTM.

Gimli: “Then we must go in too. :-C But I do not like this Fangorn.”

“It is old. Very old. As I have not felt since I have journeyed with you children.” There’s the chuckle again!

“…And I will keep my axe loose in my belt. *quickly, louder* Uh, not-not for use on trees!!” 🤣🤣

The burbling of water when they come to the stream!

“If that is all we can do, then indeed we must do that. [loud crunching of boots through leaves, distant] We must go on!”

Aragorn’s heavy breathing as he comes up the stairs 👍

“LOOK AT WHAT??” “WHERE?? I have not elf eyes.” I love how blustery Gimli is LOL

The suspenseful music when the “old man” emerges

It’s pretty clearly Gandalf from the very beginning, the way Phil Dragash voices him, but I like the little reverb that his voice has sometimes

Gimli’s heavy breathing when the narration mentions it, haha

“The others relaxed… [music intensifies and gets louder and faster] and stirred!”

Gimli’s “GRAAH!” and quickening breath and the shing and clatter as he readies his axe; the long, clear sshhiiing! of Aragorn’s sword being drawn; the slight tup and clatter of Legolas’ bow and arrow knocking against each other, and his heaving breaths alongside Gimli’s; all that with the score intensifying in the background to exemplify the energy and tension of the moment; beautiful, stunning, love it to pieces

And the music drops again when the old man sits down…and then picks up again when they see he is clothed in white!!

The magical zzhoomf! as Gimli’s axe and Aragorn’s sword are knocked from their hands!

And the music switches to the triumphant elvish theme when they realize it’s Gandalf!! AAAAAHHH

And now Gandalf’s voice sounds more clearly like Ian Mackellan. And his laughter!! I love it.

The suspenseful low thrum of stringed instruments and horns—one of the themes associated with evil—playing under Gandalf’s exposition makes the block of text much more interesting.

Mmm the musical themesss!! We hear the haunting, alluring theme of the Ring when Gandalf talks about it, and the suspenseful baaa-dum, baaa-dum part of the Fangorn theme when Gandalf mentions him.

Legolas, rasping: “AlegendofRohan!!”

The choral voices as Gandalf talks about the Ents waking up!!!

THE MOTH THEME WHEN GANDALF SITS WITH LIGHT IN HIS HANDS!!!

You know the one I’m talking about; the high operatic soprano that happens when the moth flies to Gandalf on the top of Orthanc. Chills, man, chillsss.

And speaking of chills, the Elvish themes as Aragorn and Gandalf stand and look at each other….

The music almost drowns out Aragorn’s dialogue tho LOL

“Long I fell…and he fell with me.” BANG!! OPERATIC CHORUS!

I love the sound effects and music cutting in and out like an audio flashback as Gandalf talks.

The massive whoosh of Gwaihir’s wings, tho. Really communicates the scale of how big the Eagles are.

WAIT WHOA Legolas’ voice comes from the left speakers on my laptop, and Gimli’s voice from the right!! I never would’ve noticed that if I were listening to this on my phone!

“Hur-hur-her-haaa, ha-ha-hah!” Gimli’s laugh is so infectious LOL 🤣🤣

And the Dwarven chanting as he capers in the background! Love it!

HECK YES THE SHADOWFAX WHISTLE

Only once tho. Not three times, like in the book. :-(

“And by his leave, Shadowfax will bear us both.” [horse snort]

The magnificent orchestral theme as they ride!! Aaaahh I missed this audiobook 💚

(And now I have to run to work LOL)

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 14 June ‘21

Louis Tomlinson Cooks is here!! Yeah it’s 100% for sure as delightful to watch Louis make himself a sandwich as you might have hoped, but how was his cooking? Well I’ll let Louis rate himself-- “I’m not gonna lie not that appetizing is it, I mean look at it,” he says when it comes time to taste his creation, plus, “chopping peeling slicing not great to be fair- everything else I’m all right” (he’s… not wrong, even aside from the peeler issues has this man ever held a knife??) but- “it probably tastes nice though as I said it’s not about presentation for me… [munches cutely]... it’s actually pretty banging, that’s actually quite nice!” Success! Maybe it’s cause he knows the secret to faking good cooking- “as you can see I don’t have a lot of cooking ability so the more butter the better,” I mean the experts can tell you, that’s advanced stuff right there! #Louis-aChild! Substituting mustard and ketchup for coleslaw is a bit of a bold move, but in a belated attempt to convince the kiddos to eat some healthy veg even though he won’t he does bravely try the cucumber strips despite being “not really a man for cucumber” and makes a pained attempt to be positive- “bit of crunch.” Oh and speaking of crunch I’m relieved to have learned that the waffle is NOT a waffle, it’s a crispy waffle shaped bit of potato; a much more reasonable fish sandwich addition than the American version of a potato waffle! Full Time Meals polled to see what people think of Louis cooking; the two choices are “it was amazing” and “the best,” THEY GET IT. My kind of Louis poll! Helen Seamons rated him a “10/10 for effort and entertainment”, Masterchef acknowledged Louis as one of their own, and Marcus Rashford keeps it simple- “my guy” with a lil heart. YEAH, SAME.

Harry showed up in Italy, where he was papped in Venice being driven around (with PA Luis) on a boat (as you do, in Venice). He’s in a cool embroidered Bode shirt and shades and fancy hair, looking good. He’s seen carrying his suitcase, taking photos, and resting his head on his arms looking like a model. One might think, since we just saw the My Policeman cast and crew on set celebrating the wrap of the shoot, that they were done filming and Harry was off to do something different, but nope, he’s there to film! The book has key scenes in Venice that folks had been wondering about the filming of, and David Dawson is also being boated around Venice for the paps, so, it seems that was just for the wrap of the *UK* filming, which makes sense I guess since it would mostly be different crew I imagine, and perhaps some of the main cast are done as well.

Liam’s NFT sale is happening tomorrow! If you’re confused and want more info, I’M NOT GONNA HELP THAT MUCH… uh but I mean you can check out Liam’s youtube video explaining though I would guess that won’t help much (even Liam thinks so; “there’s probably websites that explain a lot better than me” he admits). There is a roundup now posted of what’s on offer for the buyers of the NFTs but I’m gonna be really honest with you, I’m more confused now than I was before. It’s clear that there are only SIX LONELY BUG NFTs right? They for sure said that I believe. But the packages for each different piece (token bundles) seem to me like they’re available to multiple buyers? Like maybe you don’t get the NFT but multiple top bidders on each get the extras? Like they can’t be selling multiple copies of the NFT... can they?! Isn’t the WHOLE POINT that only one person gets to own it? I DON’T FUCKING KNOW I AM SORRY. What I think I understand to be true: the six NFT buyers get to go to “a once-in-a-lifetime immersive dining experience at Resorts World Las Vegas” (this is the dinner with Liam and “a selection of crypto leaders from around the world” which takes place on display inside a giant glass box) and also “a bespoke commemorative presentation box containing the world’s leading holographic display... with audio... and a custom made Lonely Bug commemorative coin,” and “a unique QR code directing the owner to a special ‘Director’s Cut’ edit of the short digital film ‘Making Of Lonely Bug Collection’ which features unreleased footage from the day of the drop showing the creators' reactions when the winning bids came in” (I mean YEAH I would think it’s unreleased it literally hasn’t happened?) But then there are really a lot of other extras including tickets with Meet & Greet access to any Liam Payne headline show around the world, admission to pool and cinema parties in Vegas with Liam, signed art, non-Liam extras (I will literally bid to NOT have 20 minute phone calls with those crypto entrepreneurs PLEASE… but that’s just me), and access to an online party hosted by Liam; I really get the impression many of these, especially the last one, are just crypto tokens that are for sale that aren’t linked to the main Lonely Bug NFTs and many more than 6 people can buy them but a lot of the extras I’m not clear on which it is. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll understand better WE WILL SEE.

Liam also dropped by the discord last night to say some hellos (after a “long long day”) and that he “bought a piece of NFT art of myself tonight I’m going to give it as a prize Monday night so someone can own a piece of art that was owned by me” (an even less tangible bragging point than simply owning an NFT wow that’s an achievement) and the most important update- “I want a French Bulldog”! Oh and he said “that’s like one I did myself” in his fanart channel to a pic of a tiny crocheted illustration of Louis and Harry holding up a rainbow flag. Didya Liam?? (...Liam is crocheting??) Anyway I recognize who it’s supposed to be because it’s based on a familiar piece of fanart, but Liam definitely might NOT realize it’s meant to be someone specific, and tbh I’m more <eyeballs> at him saying that at the rainbow flag crocheted thing than at it being shippy.

Our Song acoustic version is out this Friday!! And Niall talked about NH3 some in an interview today; “I’m in the studio most days, it feels really good. I’m kinda in the latter stages of it and then I’ll go get a band together and go in and record the whole thing. I’ve just kind of been writing for the past 9 or 10 months and really enjoying it” and “It sounds like a complete album. God knows when it’s coming out because I’d like to be able to get around the world to see all the fans as well” and “It’s different. It sounds a lot more grown up. I’m 27 so it’s about time. I really wanted to kinda cement a sound. The singles I’ve released previously have all been kinda different sounds. I would like to have my ballad sound & like a cemented uptempo sound.” He and Anne Marie also talked about one of the other songs they wrote together saying, “It’s kind of like a, how do you describe it- guitar driven meets Tom Petty meets Katy Perry meets…” but say “We haven’t really decided if we are putting it out yet, the conversations are kinda happening... but it’s completely different (from Our Song).”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Just Ask

Prompts: Hey… So, I was wondering if you could write a fic where one of the sides are dyslexic? Since that usually just ends as "Oh, I can't read, oh no!" and not like the actual neurodiversity it is. Yes, I admit, I want to relate to one too, but… Well. It'd be awesome if you would, but if that's too tall an order or too specific that's fine too. If you do, though, maybe college AU with roceit? -anon

Hi you're amazing! I love your writing and brand of writing and just I've read a lot of your stories and I love them all kskejejwuwugfhsv-

I was wondering, if you take requests, that maybe you could write a human AU with fake dating Roceit? With confident fat Janus because we need that! Or not, that's your choice!

(I sound like some snob asking for a highly specific coffee shi-) - anon

oh babe y'all wanted to be FED huh

Read on Ao3

Warnings: slight ableist/fatphobic language

Pairings: roceit

Word Count: 2487

Sometimes, you can get all of your work done in the library. Sometimes, people are ableists.

And sometimes there's something wonderful in finding out there's someone there for you as well.

Roman scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. Between waiting ages at the printer or absolutely destroying his retinas by staring at a screen for hours on end, he isn’t unhappy with making the choice to save the environment by using less paper but god.

“At least this pdf was convertible,” he mutters, scrolling down to see how many pages he has left. The last four weren’t and reading without the right font is a fucking pain in the ass.

Seven pages left. Great.

Roman focuses on the screen and starts to mutter under his breath again. Focus on the word, figure it out, make the sentence, move on. Pause to take notes, make sure it’s legible to read later, and repeat.

A computer and heavy bag thuds onto the table next to him and he jumps, almost knocking his coffee over. He looks up, glaring at the person who stares down their nose at him like he’s some sort of stain. Rude.

“You’ve been here for like, three hours, dude,” they say, like that’s supposed to justify their behavior, “move. I need this spot.”

Roman looks around. There’s like, four more tables open. “Can’t you just go sit somewhere else?”

“No! This is my spot! You can go sit somewhere else.”

“Well,” Roman mutters, glaring at his screen again, “I was here first. So you can either wait until I’m done or sit down.”

“Dude, I swear—“

“Excuse me,” comes a smooth voice that has no business being this polished in the fucking library, “is this person bothering you, sweetie?”

Roman turns around and his mouth drops open.

“J-Janus?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and glaring at the dick with the heavy bag. Who, as a matter of fact, seems to be muttering and stuffing shit back into said bag.

“Sorry I’m late,” Janus drawls, still sounding way too confident and way too much like he knows what’s going on, “got held up after class.”

“Uh, no problem,” he mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to see the asshole is still standing there, “just, um…working.”

“Ah, well then, you won’t mind if I join you.” And with that, Janus sits down with a flourish, propping his chin up on his hand and fixing the asshole with an impressive look of disgust. “And you…you can leave.”

“Look, buddy—“

“My partner and I have work to do,” Janus says, swiftly cutting them off and making sure Roman has no idea what’s going on, “now leave.”

Roman’s really glad there was no ambiguity that Janus could’ve been talking to him, because he’s about ready to bolt. Only when the asshole has retreated does Janus turn his gaze to him.

“Sorry about that,” he says, flicking a speck of imaginary lint from his gloves, “he seemed like he was bothering you. Thanks for playing along.”

“Oh, uh, no, I’m, uh—“ Janus raises an eyebrow as Roman stumbles over his words— “sorry. Uh, thanks?”

Janus chuckles. “Oh, no worries, sweetie. I was happy to do it. Although…”

Janus squints at him and Roman fights the urge to squirm under that gaze.

“You’re in my seminar class, aren’t you?” Roman nods. “The one that let out three hours ago?”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Have you…been here since then?”

Roman nods, trying to get back to work and, you know, maybe get out of here, only for Janus to reach across the table and still his hands as he goes to pick up the pen again.

“Have you eaten?”

“What?”

“Eaten,” Janus says slowly, mouth stretching into a smile, “lunch, sweetie.”

“Uh—“ no, is the correct answer— “I was going to?”

Janus just gives him a look.

“…no.”

“Mm.” Janus glances at his computer and notebook. “You’re not by any chance attempting to read all of the assignments in one go, are you?”

Roman’s guilty flush seems to answer that question for him. Janus sighs and it’s such an odd mixture of disappointment and fondness Roman hasn’t earned that his brain spits out the only question he actually wants an answer to.

“Why are you here?”

Janus chuckles. “In the library, at this school, or are we already to the point of questioning the very nature of existence?”

Roman just blinks at him.

“Oh, relax, sweetie, I’m teasing.” Janus glances off in the vague direction the asshole wandered off to. He leans a little closer. “I know how…difficult it can be to try and do work when they bother you.”

Roman’s cheeks flush. “Oh, uh…thanks, then.”

Janus waves a hand. “It’s none of their business why you’re doing so much work at once. Even if it does make you skip lunch,” he adds with such a pointed look that Roman can’t help splutter.

“I was going to! And you’re not my mother!”

“No,” Janus purrs, “but like any good partner, I like to make sure my sweetie takes care of themselves.”

Roman does not squeak, despite Janus’s chuckles, but he does start to fiddle with his pen. “I can’t…stop yet.”

“Why ever not?”

“Can you stop,” Roman blurts, scrubbing his hands over his blushing face, “please? For like, two seconds?”

“Sorry, you’re just adorable.”

“Stop, dude, seriously, if you want an actual answer to the question?”

“I’m done,” Janus chuckles, “I’m done, sorry.”

Roman takes a deep breath. He fiddles with the pen. “It’s just—with my dyslexia, it takes a while to…find the, um…”

“Zone?”

“…sure.”

Janus hums in understanding. Then he reaches into his own bag and pulls out a book of his own. “Then we may as well work together until you’re finished.”

Roman blinks. Hi, hello, brain is confused, what just happened in the last five minutes?

Janus waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Sweetie? You okay?”

“Sorry, I’m just—trying to process what happened.” Roman blinks again. “Because it seems like some asshole tried to take my seat, you came up and pretended to be my partner to scare them away, proceeded to badger me about taking care of myself, and now you’re…still here?”

Janus nods. “That’s how I experienced it too, that’s correct.”

“…so now what’re we doing?”

“Well, I’m also going to try and get some work done, you’re going to finish your work, and then we’re going to get lunch.”

“And what about the dude that now thinks we’re partners?”

Janus looks at him and shrugs. “I’m game if you are.”

Roman blinks again. Is…Janus suggesting they fake being in a relationship to, what, defend Roman’s right to sit wherever the fuck he wants for however long in a library?

“What’s in it for you?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Roman says, “what’s in it for you?”

Janus’s fingers still on the book he’s pulled out. He sighs and looks up at Roman.

“How long have you known about your dyslexia?”

Jumping around a bit here, aren’t we? “About six years, why?”

“And you know how to manage it? For you?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“That doesn’t mean it goes away,” Janus says softly, “it’s still work, you just…know how to do it now.”

“Yeah, it still takes me time to do things, why—“ Roman’s eyes widen— “oh. Oh, wait, you mean—wait, what do they have against you?”

Janus’s mouth tugs up into a smirk. “How sweet.”

“Shut up,” Roman mumbles, “you know what I mean.”

Janus just winks at him before sobering. “Well,” he says wryly, gesturing at himself, “surely you can understand that…not everyone treats you very well when you aren’t the circumference of a toothpick.”

Oh. They’re those kind of assholes. Something Janus chuckles about when that thought gets out before Roman can stop them.

“Quite. I can manage them, but it’s still work.” He looks at Roman. “Maybe we can split the load?”

“I’m down with that.”

“Wonderful. Now,” Janus says, mock sternly, “get back to work. We have lunch to get.”

Roman chuckles. “Sure, sure, don’t ask to borrow my notes.”

“I would never, I just forget things like a cool person and make things up that the professor likes to hear.”

Yeah, this is gonna go just fine.

As it turns out, it does. Roman won’t lie, he was…skeptical about the viability of this plan of theirs. He’s read the stories. He knows how this works. He knows about the misunderstandings and whether it’s a bet or a dare, something goes wrong.

But…nothing does.

Watching Janus tear anyone to shreds is entertaining enough in class, where Roman gives up on taking debate notes and just watches because goddamn, but when he gets to stand there and just glare at some ableist while Janus verbally decimates them? Poetic cinema. He debates sneaking some popcorn into his jacket pocket but that would take away from the power of his glare.

And it is nice to have someone else do the work of glaring assholes away from his table when he’s working on reading. He would be lying if he said that actually having someone else to talk to isn’t part of it. It’s so much easier to keep track of where he’s messing up so he can focus on it during his exercises later.

“You know,” Janus remarks as they leave the library one day, “you can ask the professors for editable pdfs.”

“Huh?”

“For your font stuff.” Janus nods toward his backpack. “I know you like to change the font so you can read it better, most of them have editable copies of the materials.”

“Not for the eBooks and scans and stuff.”

Janus huffs, waving his hand. “How do you think they get the audio transcripts for the recorded versions? They have to transcribe it anyway, just ask for those.”

Roman stops. “How…how do you know those exist?”

Janus just taps the side of his nose and winks.

“Can…can you do that?”

“Of course.” Janus links his arm through Roman’s. “Anything for you.”

That shouldn’t do what it does to Roman’s chest.

Because yeah, okay, maybe Janus is…really cute.

Like, unfairly cute.

No one should be able to rock that hat all the time. And the gloves. And the pocket watch. And the curly hair. And the attitude. And the impressive vocabulary. And the razor-sharp wit. And he actually knows how to flirt! What is flirting? All Roman knows is Gay Panic™ and Suffering™. What is this? Why is it allowed?

And why, oh why, did Janus have to be the one that started the fake-dating idea?

Because here’s the thing. It would be so easy to just be friends with Janus. It would! They’re already friends now, fake-dating kind of does that to you. And Janus, despite what he wants everyone else to believe, is a fucking dork. His actual laugh is squeaky and bubbly and ugh, Roman could drown in it. And he’s really kind. It’s not the same breed of kind that Roman’s used to, but goddamn, Janus is so sweet when he lets himself be. And it’s been so long since Roman had like, an actual friend…

But it would also be so easy to be more than friends with Janus. To actually be able to take him out for dates and not just lunch at their janky cafeteria. To be able to spend time together that isn’t just for show, or platonic, or just hanging out ranting about stupid dead supposed-to-be-smart people.

Again, Roman’s read the stories. He knows how this is supposed to go.

So when he takes a little longer to pack up one day, enough that Janus notices and eases himself back down into his seat with a soft, real, ‘what’s wrong, sweetie, let me help,’ Roman prepares the bittersweet ‘nothing, I’m fine,’ and to swallow down everything real.

But instead…

“Can we, um, actually date?”

Janus blinks. “Come again, sweetie?”

Roman fiddles with the buckle on his bag. “I, um, I really appreciate what we’ve been doing, and I, um, I’m super happy being your friend…”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“…but I, um—“ god, why are words so hard?— “I think I would actually like to try…dating you. For real.”

He peeks up nervously at Janus.

“Is…is that okay?”

Janus sits there, silent. He blinks a few times. Then a slow, real smile spreads across his face.

“Roman,” he says softly, almost too quiet, even in the hush of the library, “why do you think I proposed this idea in the first place?”

Oh.

Oh.

Roman blinks. “Wait, you—you?”

A pretty flush covers Janus’s face. “Well, I…was planning to ask you normally, but then I saw you being absolutely tormented and…panicked.”

“You panicked?”

He throws his hands up. “Well, what was I supposed to do? The most gorgeous person in my seminar was being bullied and I was supposed to just let it happen?”

Wait. Back up. Roman is what?

“And yes, maybe I...wanted an excuse to be your friend first, but as I said, I panicked and so—“

“You—wait, you think I’m pretty?”

Janus stops, mouth open, before he’s scoffing. “Roman, have you seen yourself?”

“Uh—“

“At least you’re pretty,” Janus mutters under his breath, “pretty and dumb, but pretty.”

“Hey!”

“You can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time, sweetie.”

“Oh, says the man whose idea was to fake-date me because you wanted to actually ask me out!”

“I will not be lectured on dramatics from a theater kid.”

“That’s ex-theater kid to you.”

“Oh, you know once you go, you never come back.”

Roman giggles. Then he’s laughing. Janus joins in and oh, this is much better than shoving feelings down and pretending they don’t exist.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

“No,” Janus purrs, reaching over to boop the end of Roman’s nose, “I’m your fucking dork.”

Oh. Oh, that sounds…really good. Roman’s chest is really warm now, when did that happen? Janus smiles too.

“So…dinner?”

“You’re paying.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

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[iam93percentstardust]

hey alle, so for the prompts i'd love some cute and funny winteriron with bucky wanting to impress tony with his cooking, but tony being a very picky eater. which leads to a lot of frustration on bucky's side, and obliviousness on what is even going on from tony's. if you feel like it. thank you! <3

Here it is! The long-awaited His Girl FRIDAY remix! I hope you love this as much as I do!

As always, everything I write is on ao3 too

~

The first time Bucky left food in Tony’s workshop and come back to find it untouched, he’d figured it was a fluke. Tony had probably been caught up in a zone—like Steve had warned him about when Bucky had decided he was going to woo Tony with food—and hadn’t noticed the food was even there.

The second time, he made sure to catch Tony’s attention as he was dropping off the plate—lasagna because Natalia had said Tony’s mother was Italian and Bucky made a pretty decent lasagna if he did say so. Tony had glanced at him and then at the plate before turning away with a slightly bewildered frown. Bucky had taken the frown to mean that no one else had ever bothered before to take care of Tony, which was a fact that had just about broken his heart, and left the plate there. He’d gone back later that night to find the lasagna untouched. That had been a little harder to explain away, but he’d eventually decided that maybe Tony was one of those food snobs who only liked Italian food made by actual Italians.

The third time he made oatmeal with a little bit of honey and cream, perfect for someone with as much of a sweet tooth as Tony had, and brought it into the workshop for Tony, who had spent the entire night working on new arrows for Clint.

“Tony?” he called softly, not wanting to startle him. Tony was uncomfortable enough with all the new people moving into the tower after everything with SHIELD and Hydra; being Hydra’s pet assassin, he didn’t want to make it worse by sneaking up on him. “I brought you some breakfast.”

Tony popped up from underneath a table, visibly brightening. “Oh good,” he said cheerfully, making grabby hands at the bowl. “I was just starting to get hungry.” His hair was mussed, two perfect rings of black smeared around his eyes, likely where the goggles currently perched on top of his head had been resting earlier.

Bucky smiled at the adorable display and held out the bowl. Tony eagerly grabbed it, only to blink at it as soon as he saw what was in it.

“Oatmeal?” he asked delicately.

“I thought you’d appreciate having something a little more delicate after not eating for a while,” Bucky explained.

“…Oh.” After another awkward moment, Tony said carefully, “Thanks.”

Satisfied, Bucky left him to his work. This time—this time—Tony would eat it all and then he’d see what an amazing cook Bucky was and how he would absolutely be able to provide for Tony and then he’d swoon into Bucky’s arms and demand that Bucky take him right there.

Okay maybe not right there—the workshop didn’t seem like the best location for amorous activities—but that was why they called it a fantasy, right?

Too bad Tony punctured that fantasy like a balloon.

Bucky went back downstairs long to pick up the bowl after Tony had come up to the common areas, yawning widely and telling everyone he was heading to bed for the next twenty-four hours so don’t bother him unless New York was on fire. It had been a bit of a disappointment that he’d just nodded at Bucky without saying anything about the breakfast or about his everlasting feelings for him, but not nearly as much of a disappointment to walk into the workshop to find the bowl as untouched as all the other meals he’d so painstakingly prepared.

~

“I don’t get it,” he whined to Sam later that day. “I’m a good cook.”

Sam gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you sure? It’s been, what, seventy years since the last time you made anything. Maybe you’re not as good as you used to be.”

Bucky gasped dramatically. “You take that back!”

“No. You promised me you’d offer dating advice with Natasha and instead you’re sitting here mooning over Tony’s ass again so I’ll say whatever I like about your cooking.”

“Sorry,” he muttered guiltily. Sam was right. He had promised that. Or, rather, Steve had promised advice and Bucky had taken one look at him still pining over Peggy and feeling weird about his current interest being Peggy’s niece (a valid way to feel) and declared him hopeless before telling Sam that he would help him out instead. After all, he remembered Natalia from the years she’d spent training with him during her childhood. Who else would be more qualified to teach Sam how to woo her? Well, besides Clint obviously, but he was taking some personal time away from the team.

“She likes the ballet,” he said. “She wanted to be a ballerina when she was younger, said they were as graceful as any Widow only they didn’t have to kill.”

“And you’re sure that won’t just make her sad?” Sam asked dubiously.

Bucky glared at him. “I might not like you very much—” Sam rolled his eyes—"But I like Natalia a whole lot. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. Take her to the ballet and take Steve and Sharon while you’re at it. A double date will help her feel less trapped and maybe Steve will stop moping and ask Sharon out.”

“It’s a little weird, you know.”

“Sure, but he kissed Peggy once and it’s not like he’s ever gonna go back to the war and live out the rest of his time there, so he might as well move on.”

Sam laughed. “Guess that’s true.” He sighed, smile fading away. “I don’t know why Tony’s ignoring your meals. Sorry about that though. It sucks.”

“If I may,” JARVIS cut in. Both of them jumped, though Bucky would deny to his dying day that he yelped. Sam, on the other hand, shrieked like a kid and Bucky reminded himself to go back and access the audio footage so he would have blackmail.

“Sorry, JARVIS,” he apologized. “Keep forgetting you’re up there. Didn’t exactly have AI back during the war.”

“Or even in other houses,” Sam added.

“My apologies,” JARVIS said, and he’ll be damned if JARVIS didn’t sound extremely apologetic. It was incredible, really, how much life Tony imbued in his creations. “I only wanted to offer my advice about Sergeant Barnes’ attempts at wooing Sir.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked. “Go right ahead. Can’t be any worse than any of the other advice I’ve gotten.” Seriously, Clint had even suggested truth serum, like that wasn’t the worst idea ever suggested.

“Sir is an extremely picky eater,” JARVIS explained. “He does not enjoy cooked tomatoes, ricotta cheese, or the texture of oatmeal.”

…All of which had been in at least one of the meals he’d prepared for Tony.

“Fuck.”

JARVIS wryly said, “Indeed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“You requested that I remain inactive on your floor while you were recovering. But you’re in Sergeant Wilson’s quarters at the moment so I may share my expertise.”

He had said that, hadn’t he? It had been in the early days when he was still having trouble remembering what he’d said moments earlier, but he had a vague recollection of being overwhelmed by the idea of constant monitoring and asking if JARVIS could be turned off.

“Wow, way to go, Barnes,” Sam commented, hiding a grin behind his hand.

“Fuck,” he said again, more emphatically. “Best tool at my disposal and I’m not even using it. JARVIS, I bet you could tell me all sorts of things about Tony.”

He got the impression that if the AI could sniff, he would have. “I would not dare to air Sir’s ‘dirty laundry’ so to speak.”

“No, no,” Bucky said, waving his metal hand. The hand made a concerning grinding sound and he frowned. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d probably need to ask someone to take a look at it. Sam was capable of performing basic maintenance, and Bucky trusted him not to sabotage the arm, but anything worse and he’d have to go ask Tony about it.

“Not what I meant,” he continued. “Just that you could tell me what Tony likes and doesn’t like. Uh, how do I turn you back on in my floor?”

“Your request is sufficient,” JARVIS said.

“Great. I’ll meet you up there in a bit. We’re gonna make something so incredible Tony will have to fall in love with me.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sam said, kicking his feet up onto the newly vacated spot on the couch now that Bucky was standing. “I’m going to see if I can find reasonably priced tickets to the ballet.”

Bucky blinked. “I think you’re gonna have worse luck than me.”

Sam threw a shoe at him.

~

On JARVIS’ advice, he baked blueberry muffins because those were apparently Tony’s favorite fruit. Bucky didn’t really understand it. Frankly, he thought blueberries were almost as bad as bananas—nasty, taste-changing fruit that they were—but if Tony loved them, then he would be willing to have them in his kitchen for as long as it took to bake the muffins. Fortunately, he was just as good a baker as he was a cook, so it was a breeze to whip up a delicious batch that had him grateful he couldn’t get salmonella from the mix.

Unfortunately, Tony hated the muffins. Or that’s what Bucky gathered when he went to pick the plate up, hoping that it would be empty for the first time, and found it just as untouched as everything else had been.

“What the fuck, JARVIS?” he complained. “You said he liked blueberries.”

“I don’t know, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS said, sounding as baffled as Bucky felt. “Sir has always appreciated them.”

That, Bucky reflected later that night, was possibly to be expected. For all that JARVIS had the inhuman ability to remember literally everything he’d ever seen or heard, he was still just a program. He couldn’t necessarily extrapolate about preferences or tastes. For all either of them knew, Tony did like blueberries but didn’t like muffins or something. It didn’t really explain why JARVIS knew that Tony didn’t like cooked tomatoes, but maybe that could be explained by Tony mentioning it out loud and the other stuff, JARVIS had had to figure out on his own.

He sat up in bed, thinking about it. Maybe that was it: Tony didn’t like muffins. But there had to be other recipes out there that used blueberries that Tony would like. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d come across a blueberry cupcake with brown butter frosting recipe earlier that day. And Bucky didn’t know anyone who could say no to his brown butter. He was incredible at it, and that was being modest. Just the other day, Thor had declared the brown butter sauce he’d made for their chicken to be worthy of an Asgardian feast. Thor was a god. He probably knew things like that.

“JARVIS, you up?” he asked into the dark room.

“Always, Sergeant Barnes.”

“You don’t gotta keep callin’ me that. Bucky’s my name. I’d rather answer to that.”

“Very well, Bucky.”

“Could you pull up some other recipes with blueberries in the flavor profile please? Filter out anything that has something Tony doesn’t like and recipes similar enough to each other that they could be repeats, uh, let’s say anything with a higher than 85% similarity.”

When JARVIS was finished compiling his list, there was a lot less than what Bucky had hoped for, but it was still something he could work with. He looked through the list: cupcakes, pancakes, cookies, more than a few salads, something called a Panzanella. He starred the ones he thought would catch Tony’s interest the most, putting the others aside to possibly try later down the road. Content with his plan, he laid back down, falling asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

~

None of it worked. Despite his supposed love for blueberries, Tony continued to turn away everything Bucky made for him. So he branched out, trying other foods that JARVIS said Tony was fond of. Nothing came back with more than a couple bites taken out of it and Tony had taken to giving him worried looks every time he appeared at the workshop door with another plate. Bucky was starting to lose hope that he was ever going to woo Tony with food and that was… not great.

Traditional dates were pretty close to impossible. Despite his rapid recovery in the tower, going outside was still too frightening with the crowds of New York, the inability to pick out threats around him, and the lack of sightlines all driving Bucky back inside and to the highest floors of the tower where he could look out over everything.

And as for anything else, well, Bucky was an ex-brainwashed assassin with no money to his name and only half the social skills he used to have (Sam said he had more than he thought but arguing with Sam wasn’t like trying to get someone to like him). He didn’t have much else to offer other than making food and giving Tony a project to work on. The first wasn’t going well and the second made Bucky feel too much like he was taking advantage of Tony to use more than once or twice.

Disheartened, he made his way up to Natalia’s floor to ask her for advice. She and Tony got along almost as well as she got along with Clint. Maybe she would have insights that JARVIS wasn’t able to offer. As he neared her room, though, he realized that she wasn’t alone.

“—to kill me,” someone—Tony, Bucky realized almost immediately—was saying. He stiffened. Who was trying to kill Tony? Bucky would kill them first! Was murder a good way to woo Tony?

“котенок,” Natalia said patiently, “he’s not trying to kill you.”

“You don’t know that!” Tony exclaimed wildly. He sounded like he was pacing. “He could be! He keeps bringing me things everyone knows I won’t eat.”

And now Natalia sounded amused as she said, “Antoshka, I don’t think he’d be trying to feed you if he wanted to kill you. It’s more likely an honest mistake.”

“It could be poison.”

“It’s not poison.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t tried any of it.”

“It’s not poison because that’s more my style than it is James’.”

Oh, they were talking about him. Tony thought Bucky was trying to kill him. “Fuck,” he said mournfully, leaning up against the wall. No wonder Tony wouldn’t touch any of the food he made for him.

“Well, I don’t see why else he’s bringing me food!” Tony said.

“Really? Not a single reason?”

“It’s food I won’t eat! He clearly doesn’t like me or he’d be bringing me actual food I like.”

“Does he know why you won’t eat it?”

“No, but why does that matter?”

“Tony, darling, have you ever once informed him that you have a sensory processing disorder and you won’t eat a lot of cooked foods because you can’t handle the texture?”

Bucky straightened back up. Tony has a what? He’d never even heard of that before. Why didn’t JARVIS say something? He thought back to when he’d been building the list of blueberry foods and how he’d wondered if JARVIS didn’t necessarily know about the pattern for Tony’s likes and dislikes in his food. Maybe JARVIS hadn’t known about Tony’s disorder, so he hadn’t known to tell Bucky about it. That made the most amount of sense to him though he couldn’t imagine why Tony had never told his AI about his disorder.

“Why would I tell him that?” Tony asks, sounding confused.

He could just picture Natalia shaking her head as she said, “Oh, Antoshka.”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Armed with his new knowledge, Bucky crept away from the door, already planning out new meals to bring to Tony.

~

That very night, he went downstairs with a bowl of salad. It had nuts to provide a small amount of protein, though he’d also put some baked chicken in a Tupperware as well, in case that was something Tony could eat. Tony’s music was playing at a manageable volume by the time he got to the workshop, likely because he was drafting plans for some sort of irrigation system, rather than any sort of consideration for Bucky.

Tony caught sight of him before he got the doors open. Bucky watched as his face fell for a moment before he plastered on a bright, fake smile. Hydra’s programming was still too ingrained in him to do anything as obvious as wince, but he still felt a twinge of shame. Why hadn’t he thought to ask Tony what he would like to eat instead of relying on his own preferences?

“Uh,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. In his other hand, he held up the Tupperware with the salad bowl on top of it. “I brought you some dinner. It’s just a salad, but I included some baked chicken on the side if you want that. I hope it’s something you like.”

Tony blinked at him. “What?”

“I—okay, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I overheard you and Natalia earlier. I didn’t know you couldn’t eat anything I was making for you. I wasn’t trying to poison you or anything, just thought you might like some food since you’re down here all the time. Sorry for, you know, eavesdropping and making you think I didn’t like you.”

A cautious smile spread across Tony’s face. “You could have asked JARVIS,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I did, but I guess he didn’t know you don’t like cooked foods.”

“What?” Tony cocked his head to the side. “No, he should know that.” He spun around in his chair, waving the glowing blue drafts of the irrigation system aside in favor of pulling up JARVIS’ bright golden code. It was a beautiful display, and Bucky found himself moving closer, mesmerized by the sight. He had no idea JARVIS’ code was so complex.

“J, buddy, what happened to your code?” Tony murmured. He reached out a hand, groping for Bucky’s shirt to tug him closer. “Gimme food.”

“So you like salad?” Bucky asked, relieved that he’d finally found something.

“And baked chicken,” Tony added. “But it has to be baked. Otherwise, the texture’s too rubbery for me.”

“I can do that,” he promised. “Do you like breading or marinade with the baked chicken?”

“Marinade, yes. Breading, no.”

“Okay. I’ll remember that.”

Tony paused in tearing through JARVIS’ code to give him a small, genuine smile that made Bucky’s heart light up. He returned the smile, which grew bigger when Tony’s gaze darted down to his lips, snagging there as though caught by the sight. He knew he had a nice mouth; he’d been told that plenty of times back in the forties.

“I have another confession to make,” he said once Tony’s attention returned to the code.

“Uh-huh,” Tony said distractedly.

“I was—”

“There you are!” Tony exclaimed. “J, who made those changes to lines 894 through 1036 in your code?”

JARVIS immediately said, “The last time those lines were accessed was in 2008 by Obadiah Stane.”

Tony’s face fell. “Oh.”

It took Bucky a moment remember who Obadiah Stane was. He’d appeared in one of Bucky’s mission files as the Winter Soldier. Back during the nineties, following Tony’s parents deaths, Tony had been planning on shutting down SI’s weapons manufacturing division. Hydra, who’d been buying black market weapons from Stane for years by that time, had ordered the Winter Soldier to assassinate Tony to give Stane complete control of the company. But before he’d been able to complete his mission, Stane had convinced Tony to see “reason” and Bucky had been put back in cryo. That unfulfilled mission had been one of the reasons he’d been so hesitant to move into the tower before his programming had been completely removed. Steve had tried to push for the move anyway, but before either of them could successfully argue the point, Tony had put out a call to the world’s top experts on brainwashing and three whirlwind weeks later, Bucky’s mind was programming-free. And just like that, without even meeting the guy, Bucky had developed a crush on one Tony Stark.

“Sorry, doll,” he said, dropping a hand to Tony’s shoulder and squeezing it gently.

Tony sighed frustratedly. “Every time I think I’ve taken care of everything Obie fucked up, I find something else he’s done. He was probably hoping I’d starve to death or something without anyone making food to my exacting specifications, that asshole.”

“He sounds pretty terrible,” Bucky agreed.

“J, are you able to access the last backup on those lines to restore them?” Tony asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, let’s get those fixed, and uh—”

“And we’ll go out for dinner,” Bucky interrupted.

“Huh?” Tony asked, turning to look at him.

“Seems I owe you an apology and I figure taking you out for dinner is a little nicer than a salad. ‘Sides, if I take you out, I’ll have a better understanding of what you like to eat.”

“Careful there, Buckaroo, or I’ll start thinking this is supposed to be a date.”

Bucky would probably never know what possessed him to firmly say, “Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to be.” He certainly hadn’t planned to. He really had been planning on their dinner being a way to figure out what Tony liked so he could make it himself and continue with his wooing process from there, hopefully slowly easing Tony into believing that Bucky really did like him and wasn’t trying to poison him.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”

Tony stared at him, then abruptly said, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That this is supposed to be a date.”

He could deny it and go back to his original plan. He’d probably even be able to pull off a lie like that. But there was a hopeful look in Tony’s eyes that stopped him from denying anything.

“You didn’t even know that I liked you until five minutes ago,” he pointed out cautiously.

Tony scoffed. “What, like you’ve never liked someone who hated you.”

“Uh, no. I’ve never done that.”

“Really?”

“Never.”

“Huh.”

“Are you… are you saying that you do like me?” Bucky asked.

“Well, yeah. You never mind that half of my engineering babble goes over your head and you bring me food even if you didn’t know it wasn’t something I could eat and you’re really fucking gorgeous when you’ve showered and your hair isn’t falling in greasy clumps around your face.”

“Look who’s talking,” Bucky said amusedly, reaching out to run his fingers through Tony’s hair, matted down with machine oil. Even filthy, he could feel how soft it would be when it was clean. Tony leaned into his hand, humming happily.

“So is that a yes on this being a date, Bucky babe?” Tony asked. “Cause I’ll be honest, I’m not usually left hanging.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding. “It’s a date.”

Tony grinned and turned his head just enough to kiss the inside of Bucky’s wrist, making Bucky shiver. “Let me get cleaned up.”

“You want me to join you?”

Tony winked at him. “Next time, honey.”

[bqstqnbruin]

F is for Friends - part 4

Look, I know it's 4 am, but hear me out: I finally finished this part. Ignore typos because at this point, that's just who I am as a person honestly.

Hope you like it!

Read the other parts here: part 1 // part 2 // part 3

__________________

“You haven’t seen him in how long?” Maddy asks you from the kitchen. You and your roommate were both home on a weekend for the first time in what seemed like forever, taking the opportunity to invite Fran and Lindsey over for a girls day. Nolan always seemed to be the topic of conversation whenever you entered the room, and you had a feeling that he was even when you weren’t there. The girls were overcome with affection for the rosy cheeked, long haired boy next door who was slowly becoming your friend.

Just your friend.

“Not since he came to my classroom last week,” you tell them. “I dropped him off and then got ready for my date with Keelan that night.”

Fran scoffs at the sound of your boyfriend's name, Lindsey rolling her eyes. “Oh, god,” Maddy groans.

“What?” you whine, dreading where this conversation was going.

“I’m trying to block that night from my memory. Especially considering you didn’t remember that I was home that night,” she says, handing Fran and Lindsey the water they had asked for.

“We weren’t that bad,” you tell her, the heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment anyway. You two had went back to your place after the date, not hesitating to polish off the two open bottles of wine that were in your fridge, also not hesitating to have sex as would most couples who want to do that sort of thing.

“Yes, you were. Hearing you and Keelan fuck is like listening to a poorly written PG-13 makeout session audio clip from Riverdale,” she lets out, Fran spitting her water as Lindsey starts choking on hers.

Your mouth hangs open as you try to comprehend what she just said. “Ok, one, rude. Two, why is that the comparison you make? And three, why were you listening?”

Maddy scoffs, “As if the walls weren’t so thin that Nolan and Kevin could hear you playing music in the first place. Anyway, whatever it was you were doing in there I’m pretty sure it would end up in Riverdale.”

“I need you to stop watching Riverdale,” you say, straightfaced to your roommate, “and stop comparing it to my sex life!”

“Oh! I have an idea!” Fran squeals, changing the subject.

“Oh, no,” you groan, knowing that whatever she was about to suggest was going to end poorly for at least one of you.

She rolls her eyes, getting up and going over to your window. Your car was parked right next to Kevin's, an indication that the boys were home. “What if we went out tonight and asked Kevin and Nolan to come?”

You can’t help but glare at her, knowing what her tactics were: if you and Nolan went out and got drunk together, her mind believed that you would reveal whatever feelings she thought you had for each other. Everything would come out in a drunken confession that you would have to deal with in the morning. “We’re not going out tonight.”

Fran drags you from the chair you were comfortably sitting in, Lindsey and Maddy following as the four of your run out your door. You were facing Nolan and Kevin’s, Fran knocking wildly on the wood before pushing you to the front of the group.

Nolan hears someone at the door, interrupting the workout he was doing solely to keep himself busy. He could hear voices on the other side of the door, indicating that he probably should grab a shirt to put on, reaching for the nearest towel he could find instead. “Hey,” he says, seeing you, Maddy, Fran and Lindsey all standing at his door, your mouths hanging open. He could feel his cheeks turning more pink at the thought of all of you seeing him without a shirt, even though he knew you had before.

You, on the other hand, were trying to figure out what to say, coming up short at the sight of Nolan’s abs, sweat making his body shine and leaving you to admire it longer than you needed to be. “I,” you start, forgetting why you were standing in front of your shirtless neighbor in the first place, “have no idea why we’re here.”

“We’re going out tonight,” Fran starts, pushing you out of the way, “and were wondering if you and Kevin and any of the guys wanted to join us.”

Nolan wasn’t focusing on what Fran was saying, he was too busy trying not to read too much into your flustered reaction, paying more attention to how your eyes traced his body. “Yeah, sure,” he shrugs, not taking his eyes off you. He sees your expression change, a nervous look on your face as you shook your head at him. “Uh, actually, we, um,” he tries to retract.

“Perfect!” Lindsey practically screams, Nolan visibly shaken by her outburst. “Y/N will text you the details!”

Before you or him could protest, the four of you are running back to your place, you looking over your shoulder at Nolan, an apologetic look on his face.

Why didn’t you want him to go out with you guys tonight? That was the first time he had seen you since he went to your classroom. He didn’t know if you were avoiding him or if you were just busy, but either way, he wanted to see you tonight.

“Ok, girl, if you don’t want Nolan, can I have him?” Fran drools once the four of you are back in your apartment. “God, he is so hot.”

“I, uh, I don’t care,” you tell her. What or who Nolan did was not your problem. “If he wants to and you want to, then go for it, what’s stopping you?”

She looks at you, a smirk covering her face. “You.”

You scowl at her, not unaware of the shocked looks on Maddy and Lindsey’s faces. “Oh, really?”

“You clearly like him. You’ve liked him since the day he knocked on your door.”

“I’m in love with Keelan. I have been in love with Keelan for a couple of years now, if you remember. Just because you hate him for whatever stupid reason, doesn’t mean that I do,” you tell her, walking away to your room. You didn’t have to deal with this. She wasn’t one of your students where you had to settle whatever conflict was coming up between you.

“Your boyfriend is a jerk, come on,” she says, following you.

You whip around to face her, catching her off guard as she takes a step back when she sees the anger in your face. “How has he really been a jerk to you? Because, from what I remember, he was the only one on the guy's team who stood by you guys when the athletic director wouldn’t help fund your trip to that regatta in England while they were fully funding the boy's trips to Boston and the IRAs and a trip to California for a training session with someone from Team USA. He’s the one who tutored you for the entirety of our junior year for free so you wouldn’t fail your class and wouldn’t lose your scholarship or your place on the team, and did the same for Lindsey. He’s the one who literally gave us the key to his family's beach house down the shore the last three summers in a row because he wanted to make sure that we took a break and didn’t get burned out. But you’re right, Fran, he is a jerk.”

“Come on, Y/N-” she starts.

“No. Stop,” you tell her. “I’m sick of you guys being absolute bitches about Keelan when he has never done anything to warrant this besides be on the crew team. If you want to go out with Nolan, and he wants to go out with you, then be my guest. I’m happy with my jerk.”

She stands there, stunned by your outburst, Lindsey and Maddy trying to comprehend what just happened themselves when you slam your bedroom door, locking yourself in your room until it was time to leave.

Your phone buzzes as you throw yourself onto your bed, thinking it would be one of the girls asking you to come out of your room.

Nolan: Do you really want us to come with you guys tonight?

Y/N: I really don’t care. Fran seems to have something planned and wants you guys there.

Nolan: Fran does?

Y/N: Yep.

Nolan shouldn’t be reading too much into this, staring at his phone hoping to see those three bubbles popping up to show that you were going to explain more. What could Francesca have planned? What did that mean?

He gets the details about where you guys were planning on going, forwarding the information about going to Howl to some of his teammates. What could Fran have planned?

You lay on your bed, your phone buzzing with texts from Nolan and Keelan coming in. Anything you felt for Nolan was meaningless. He was your neighbor. He was your friend. Keelan was the guy you were dating. Keelan was the guy you loved.

You start going through your closet, not really wanting to go but knowing that you were going to end up dragged out anyway, flipping through all your teaching clothes as if you thought there was anything in there that was appropriate for a bar and not for school.

You hear a knock on your door, Fran poking her head into your room earning a scoff from you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m still mad at you,” you respond, not looking at her.

“That’s fair,” she says, plopping herself on your bed next to the pile of clothes that you were forming from your closet. “Does this mean you’re still coming with us?”

“Yeah, you’re paying for drinks.”

“That’s fair, too.” The two of you let silence come between you, you rummaging through your clothes to try to find something to wear while she fiddles with the hem of one of your shirts. “What if you did the black ripped jeans with this shirt?” Fran says, holding up something that you were sure was Maddy’s, probably stolen from her on a night when you were going out without her and buried amongst the rest of your clothes.

“Are you guys going home to change or what are you wearing?” you ask her, both of you pretending like you weren’t mad at her.

“Can I borrow something of yours?”

“Yep.”

She shuffles through your clothes some more, Maddy and Lindsey clamoring around in the kitchen to make something for the four of you to eat before you started drinking, not doing anything to try to be quiet. “You know I love you. I just want you to be with a guy that deserves you.”

You take in a deep breath, finally turning to Fran sitting on your bed. “How do you know that isn’t Keelan? I’ve been happy with him for how many years now?”

“You’ve been together since we were juniors which was, what, five years ago now? Four? Have you two even talked about anything like getting married or starting a family together?”

You think about it, knowing that you’ve seen proposals, you’ve definitely looked at rings, but it was never serious. You’ve watched movies with Keelan where the characters get engaged or get married, try to have a family, all of that, but you never did talk about it. You never thought of a future with him, you only thought of the present.

You shake your head, Fran giving you that sympathetic look that you didn’t want. “If you’ve been together for this long, and he’s not thinking about forever with you, then what’s he thinking of? You can love Keelan, but if he can’t promise to love you back forever, then you’re just wasting time.”

“You think so?” She shakes her head, but you wish she didn’t. “You’re not just saying this because you don’t like him?” you ask.

“I don’t like him because I’m saying this. He’s a good person, but I don’t like seeing you with him when I’m not sure he wants to be with you forever.” Before you can answer, you hear Maddy and Lindsey dropping something from your kitchen, knowing that whatever it was you were going to have to clean up yourself if you ever wanted it clean. “If you want your kitchen safe, I think we need to go out there,” Fran laughs, pulling you up from your bed. “We’ll change after we eat.”

The four of you eat and pre-game, thankful that Lindsey and Fran actually managed to clean up the mess well enough that you didn’t have to worry about it during your night out, Maddy no help even though she was the one who made it.

The boys said they would meet you at the bar, getting to Howl and texting Keelan to let him know where you were. Fran’s words had freaked you out. You knew you didn’t have to text Keelan where you were going, but there was something about the whole ‘if you’ve been together this long, shouldn’t you be talking about forever’ that made you feel like you had to. You and Keelan were happy, but did that mean that you have to be talking about marriage and kids and all that stuff? Was there something wrong with your relationship if you weren’t at this point?

“You look like you’re having a lot of fun,” Nolan’s voice snaps you out of what would turn into you spiraling. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, signaling to the bartender to get you another drink. “Nothing.”

“Good thing you don’t teach drama because you’re an awful actor,” he laughs, earning a glare from you. “Oh, come on, that was good.”

“Good thing you aren’t a comedian because you aren’t funny,” you fire back, a smile on your face as he laughs with you.

“Come on. What’s wrong? You can tell me anything,” he says, probably a little too flirty. But that’s something a friend would do. A friend would listen to you when you were having problems or when you were feeling down.

You sigh, taking a sip of the new drink in front of you. “Fran said something about Keelan and I that bothered me.” He raises his eyebrows, urging you to tell him more. “Apparently they think I’m wasting my time being with him,” you tell him, looking off to the crowd at the bar, just spacing out with your attention on nothing in particular.

He swallows hard, thankful that you didn’t notice his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down at your words. If you were wasting your time, then that would mean you would break up with Keelan, wouldn’t it? He was thinking too far into this, wasn’t he? “Do you,” he hesitates, clearing his throat to try to cover up his nerves, “do you think you’re wasting your time?”

You shrug, turning your attention back to him. His cheeks were more red than normal, his blushing causing heat to rush to your own cheeks. At least if you broke up with Keelan, you could try with Nolan, right?

No. Because you weren’t breaking up with Keelan. But, “I didn’t. But now, I don’t know.” You set into a rant about what Fran said to you in your room, adding in the fact that Lindsey and Maddy told you they also felt that way, but Lindsey still didn’t like him based on the fact that he was on the crew team and she had decided to hold that petty grudge even though that was a few years ago at this point. “I love him. But we have been together for a while, so why haven’t we even talked about it?”

“Do you see yourself marrying him?”

You stop and think about it. Before you can answer his question, Lindsey and Maddy whisk you away to dance, leaving Nolan at the bar with your drink. He sits and watches you, pretending not to hear the girl who had approached him and tried to have a conversation with him. He wasn’t trying to be rude, but he couldn’t help but focus all his attention on you. He studied you as you moved, the fluid motions in sync with the rhythm of the music, the laughter that escaped your lips when you hear Maddy and Lindsey sing, probably off key, the smile on your face as you joined in with them.

Nolan takes your drink back with him to the table, his teammates sitting there, unsurprisingly not getting up from the corner they had occupied. He doesn’t listen to them as they talk, Kevin and Travis being obnoxious as always. He found you again at the bar, leaning against it and talking to Maddy, Lindsey and Fran nowhere in sight.

“Nolan,” Travis calls to him, finally getting his friend’s attention. “Why are you over here if she’s over there?” he asks, pointing to you.

“Why would I go over there?” he deadpans, not wanting to be reminded that he was falling for you, hard and fast when he shouldn’t be.

“You’re in love with her and you want to be with her?” he states as if it were obvious, Nolan glaring at him while his teammates nodding. Nolan wasn’t that discrete when it came to his feelings about you to any of the guys, apparently. With you, he was sure you had no idea, but with them, they could read him like a book, something he hated at this moment.

Before he could answer, Keelan appears, as if by magic, his arms wrapped around you from behind. Nolan could see you tense up for a moment, not knowing who it was. You look down at your waist, a smile on your face as you come to realize it was your boyfriend, Nolan wanting nothing more than for him to be the one surprising you and holding you like that.

“Is that the boyfriend?” Oskar asks, right as you squeal in delight that he had come to see you, kissing him, your one hand on his shoulder, the other at the back of his neck, fingers intertwined with the curls there.

“Yep,” Nolan lets out, burying his face in his hands.

“He’s pretty hot,” Travis lets out, Kevin smacking him in the chest.

“Then you date him,” Kevin chirps, Nolan not wanting to say anything else to them.

“Karly might have something to say about that.”

Nolan tunes out the boys, their banter something he wanted nothing to do with, probably about him fawning over you while you were there, Keelan’s hands on you as the two of you danced, your foreheads touching and not taking your eyes off each other. If you were worried about the future, it didn’t show, enjoying the moment that was happening in front of you.

“Hey, come dance with me,” Fran snaps Nolan away from you, her hand extended to Nolan.

“Sure, why not,” Nolan mumbles, trying to be excited about dancing with your best friend, ignoring the guys hollers as they watched their friend get up with a girl, actually saying yes to someone who approached him.

The two of them start talking, falling into a weirdly easy conversation. People started gathering on the dance floor, pushing the two of them together, Nolan’s hand finding Fran’s back, pulling her closer to him. For the first time since he met you, he wasn’t thinking about you. He didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol, but Fran was right there, single, beautiful, funny. You had mentioned that going out with the guys was Fran’s idea, so did that mean Fran wanted Nolan for her? Should he be focusing his attention on someone who didn’t have a seemingly serious boyfriend? Probably.

You and Keelan get interrupted by Maddy and Lindsey, finally prying Keelan’s body off you. “Have you seen Fran?” Lindsey yells over the music.

“Not for a while, no,” you tell her, Keelan’s arms wrapping around you, both of you still moving with the music.

Maddy cranes her neck, trying to see over the crowd. You see her eyes go wide, grabbing Lindsey’s arm to show her what she was seeing. You follow their gaze, finding Fran and Nolan dancing together, her arms draped on his shoulders, him holding her as close as Keelan had been holding you. Fran kept her word about moving in on Nolan. “Good for her,” you swallow hard, Maddy and Lindsey turning back to you, shocked. “What?” you ask as if nothing were wrong.

Keelan had felt your entire body tense up when you saw Nolan and Fran. It was probably nothing, though. You were just happy for your friend, your body having an involuntary reaction to seeing her with someone you knew instead of a complete stranger like she normally was. He didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t want to think anything of it.

________________________

“You’re still at school? It’s four already,” Keelan’s voice fills your classroom from your phone speaker, the building empty except for the teachers still roaming around.

You sigh, putting down your pen, pushing aside your lesson plan book. “Yeah. It’s parent-teacher conferences tonight, so I’m just staying until those are over. There’s no point in me driving all the way home just to have to drive all the way back.”

“What are you doing for dinner?”

“Ya know,” you start, getting up from your desk to stretch your legs as if you weren’t on your feet all day, “Hadn’t thought about that. I’ll probably just throw together whatever is in the fridge when I get home.”

“Babe, that’s going to be almost nine, you can’t wait that long,” Keelan says, concern in his voice.

You shrug even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “It’s fine, I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“What time is the first conference?” he asks, extraneous noise coming from his end. It sounded like he was getting into his car, starting it up and driving off to whatever it was he had to do, even though you were sure he still had to be at work for another hour.

“Uh, 6, why?”

“Just wondering.” The two of you stay on the phone for a little while longer, talking about anything you felt like until he had to go for whatever reason.

You get back to filling out your plan book, looking through your one from last year and the hundreds of lesson plans you had on your computer, using the time for prep that you were supposed to get during the day, even if you were always called to cover another class or just had other things to do in general.

Someone knocks on your door, praying that you were right to call, “it’s open.”

“Delivery,” Keelan pokes his head in, holding up a bag of what you presumed was food based on the smell. “Still have some time to eat with me?”

“Keel!” you squeal, jumping up from your desk chair to greet him. You pull him into your room, grabbing some paper towels to clean off one of the lab benches quickly so you could eat, not a hundred percent trusting your students to clean up all the chemicals they could potentially spill on the table tops. “What’s this for”?

He starts unpacking the food, handing you a container with your favorite dish from Sabrina’s. “You didn’t sound like you were too sure you had food you could eat, and knowing you and Maddy, you’re probably on the end of food from your last shopping trip. Plus,” he says, leaning closer to you, “this way, I get to have dinner with my girl.” His lips connect to yours, quick and sweet so the two of you could get to eating.

For the first time, you were focused on just Keelan, Nolan not lingering in your thoughts. Keelan was the guy for you, you were sure of it. You were almost sure of it, at least, Fran’s words still swimming around in your mind. “Hey,” you start, finishing the bite of food you took, “Have you ever thought about our future?”

Keelan freezes, confused and probably caught off guard by the question. “Our future?” he repeats, “What do you mean?”

“Like, us. Are you going to be my boyfriend forever, or is anything going to happen?” you start, not sure how to put it otherwise.

He shrugs, focusing on his food. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

Your shoulders drop, wishing that his answer wasn’t the same as yours. “You’ve never thought about us getting married or having kids. Nothing?”

“I never thought of my life without you, but never explicitly thought of marriage, I guess?” You nod, not wanting to look at him in the moment. You had parents coming in less than twenty minutes at this point, wishing that you hadn’t asked him this question now. “Hey,” he says, reaching out and touching your hand. “When I think of the future, I think of you and I being happy together. We don’t need to be married to be that. Do we?”

“I don’t know. It wouldn’t hurt.”

“You want to get married?”

You open and close your mouth like a fish, realizing that Lindsey and Maddy pulling you away from Nolan at Howl was the right thing to do, because you still had no answer a few days later. Before you could tell him you didn’t know anything, Javier comes into your room, Anderson not far behind.

“Have you taught Electrochem yet?” Anderson’s voice booms for no reason, Javier somehow looking both annoyed and panicked at the same time.

“Yeah, last month. Have you taught Electrochem yet?”

“No,” Anderson says. “I thought we were doing it after gas laws.”

“We have never done it after gas laws,” you tell him, getting up from the lab table. “We do it with types of reactions because of half reactions and redox.”

Anderson starts going off about how all three of you are supposed to be on the same page, Javier and Keelan awkwardly just there in your room while you shuffle through your box of papers.

“Anderson, aren’t you the one who put the Galvanic Cell on the midterm? Is this why every single kid of yours got it wrong last year, because you teach it too late?” you say, handing him a packet while his face turns red, “Just take this, Javier and I made it a few years ago and it works.”

“We need to be on the same page from now on,” he tells you before storming out.

“How is it our fault that he doesn’t listen when we say this is what we’re teaching next?” Javier asks, sitting down next to Keelan, putting his face in his hands.

“At least we know why his students do shitty on that page of the midterm.”

“Anderson really is a jerk,” Keelan pipes in. “Didn’t he blame you for grading his students wrong on the midterm last year?” he asks. You had filled Keelan in on how you guys split up the grading since you all gave the same midterm; you had the first four pages, Javier the next four, and Anderson the next three. Anderson’s kids always did awful on the first eight pages, somehow redeeming themselves when he put the grades in.

You nod, the principal coming over the loudspeaker to alert the teachers that the parents were there. “I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?” you tell Keelan, cleaning up in a hurry.

He says yes, kissing you goodbye and running out the door to go home, probably, Javier lingering behind for a moment. “You two ok?”

“How could you possibly think something was wrong,” you say, slightly sarcastic.

“I can read you like a book.”

“Yeah, well, I guess there should be a book club,” you groan. “Nolan says the same thing.”

“Tell me fast,” he says, both of you standing outside your doors to greet parents and try to direct them around the school in the event that they were lost, something that was very easy to do if you weren’t in the building every day.

“Fran said something about how Keel and I haven’t talked about our future together and we just talked about it,” you say, praying that the parents passing you by weren’t that focused on your conversation and instead were looking at the numbers on the doors.

“And what does that future look like?”

“The same as the present.”

“You could always go for Nolan,” he jokes, throwing his hands up in defense. “I’m kidding.” He leaves, one of his student’s parents showing up at his door.

You were waiting for Darren’s mom, Mrs. Alexander a few minutes late. “Ms. Y/L/N!” you hear someone yelling, a woman who looked just like Darren trying to sprint down the halls. “I’m sorry I’m late! I got lost!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckle, the contrast between Darren’s shyness and his mother’s lack thereof somehow not surprising. “Come on in.”

The two of you sit at one of the lab benches, pulling out your notebook and pen. “Darren has made some great improvements this semester, this month especially,” you start, handing her a print out of his grades. “Grade-wise, he’s one of my top students. He’s smart, he knows what’s going on, I have no worry about how he’s going to do on the upcoming midterm.”

“That’s so good to hear,” she says, her finger running along the sheet that displayed A after A on it.

“And he’s talking with Sydney when we do labs, especially since we had some of the Flyers come in the class and work with them. Something Nolan Patrick did really stuck with him.”

She smiles, taking in a deep breath, “That would make this the only class he talks in.”

“Well, progress is progress. One class is better than none, talking with one classmate is better than no one.” She looks down at the paper, trying to force herself to be happy. “Mrs. Alexander. Darren is a great kid. He’s not the most talkative, but he’s getting there. I don’t want to force him to talk if it’s not something he’s comfortable with, but anything you want me to do, you know I’ll do it.”

“He likes to draw,” she says, starting to shuffle through her bag. “He loves talking about his drawings, too.”

“So do you think if I had him draw more in class, work that into my lessons for him, that he would be more open to talking?”

“He might. It’s worth a try if you can,” she say, slipping a piece of paper across the desk. It was a self portrait of him, your classroom in the background. Nolan was sitting next to him, doing the experiment from the other week. “He came home that day, went to his room, drew this, and then told me in detail about class. I’ve never seen him so excited about this before.”

You stare at the detail of the drawing in awe, from the dimples on Darren, the bubbles in the Erlenmeyer while it was heating, right down to Nolan’s rosy cheeks. “This is incredible.”

“He wanted me to have you give it to Nolan, if you could.”

The principal comes over the speakers again to have parents move to the next class they were going to, you now waiting for one of your CP student’s parents to arrive. “I will. Thank you, Mrs. Alexander”

Both of you get up from the table, walking over to the door. “No, thank you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

The rest of the parent-teacher conferences go by in a blur, you not focusing on anything other than the memory of Nolan and Darren working together. You did secretly love parent-teacher conferences, as late as they were, because it helped you get to know the student’s family background just a little bit more. A teacher is only good if they know their students, a student will only trust their teacher if they know them. You lived by that statement.

By the end of the night, you were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to change into a pair of sweats and curl up in bed until you passed out for the night. You were about to call Nolan to ask him if you could stop by for a minute to give him the picture Darren drew of him when Lindsey’s name popped up instead. “Hey, Linds, I’m driving home from school,” you preface as you start your car, “What’s up?”

“Mind if I stop by and hang out for a bit?” she asks, you hearing Fran yell something you couldn’t make out in the background.

“Sure. Maddy’s home, too, tonight, I think. So if I pass out, you’ll still have her unless she also passes out.”

You didn’t think anything of it, pulling up to your apartment as Lindsey did, too, Fran stepping out of the car and before you could.

“Hey,” you call to her, watching Fran run over to Nolan and Kevin’s door, a dress and heels on, her hair and makeup done perfectly. “Where’s she going?”

"Uh," Lindsey stammers, not sure what to tell you. "A date."

Before you can question it, Nolan opens the door, kissing Fran, taking her hand and leading her over to his car. You stood there, frozen, surprised that Fran had gone further than she did at Howl the other night, watching as Nolan and Fran drive away to go out on a date.

[sukiglycerin]

the scrapbook documenting denki kaminari and his experiences with love, subtlety, and volumes of manga || denki kaminari.

* pairing: denki kaminari x oblivious!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, normal conflict(??) but not much, uni!au, friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots to lovers

* words: 4.5k

* warnings: brief scenario of intoxication, mentions of maidgirls (one of them has a gun because mey-rin from kuroshitsuji), reader has past bad experiences with relationships, bakusquad is supportive af, reader is oblivious (duh), i love sero, side kiribaku

* original request: Can you do a fluff Denki crushing on the reader but the reader is really oblivious to him just badly flirting and bakusquad gets annoyed and helps them get together 😳

* a/n: this turned out much longer than expected, but i’m satisfied with the turn-out! i call this a “scrapbook” because it’s like a collection of short moments. i’m experimenting with this writing style, so i hope you enjoy it! i started writing reader by basing them off of this one pretty girl i know (and very much like), but then reader started morphing into me projecting myself and oh boy. yeah. fun fact: i actually own the kuroshitsuji manga volume with the maidgirl on the cover (volume 22).

“please don’t like me,” is the first thing you say to denki kaminari. you don’t know who he is, though, when you say these words. all you know is that he’s presumably a college student like you and that he’s quite extroverted. behind him stand three of his friends giggling to themselves. it’s apparent they’re playing a practical joke. 

the first thing the blond boy said to you was, “hey, you’re cute, i like you.” that was thirty seconds ago, after you’d put your manga down when you noticed his friends pushing him towards you.

he cracks a grin upon your response. “alright.” he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “the point still stands - you’re cute.” his eyes fall to the manga you set down. “hey- is that detective conan?”

it’s an old, worn copy of detective conan’s first volume.

“oh, yeah,” you reply.

“can i see it?” he asks. you nod.

he picks up the book, surprisingly gentle with its fading corners and creased spine. 

"i used to read the series all the time," he says quietly, reliving a memory in his eyes. "i always tried to solve the crime before conan." 

you're not sure what to answer, but he introduces himself before you can.

"i'm kaminari, by the way." he slips a piece of paper in your manga, setting the book down on your table. "text me."

“please don’t fall in love with me,” is the first thing you whisper to denki kaminari, hushed under the sheets in mina’s room. you're surprised he can hear you over the quiet murmurings of a ghibli movie playing on the tv; you're surprised he's awake.

“okay,” and it’s the first promise he’s ever broken, voice all low and hoarse from the after-effects of prolonged silence. 

(maybe he should've feigned sleep, he later thinks, as his heart stupidly falls and crashes clumsily into love. maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all.)

he turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling. it's dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars mina and sero had impulsively hung up one friday evening instead of studying. there's a couple moons, too, which bakugou had frowned upon, stating, "where are we, jupiter? there's only one moon orbiting earth." kirishima laughed. 

from the sound of shuffling sheets and a quick glance next to him, denki can tell you're now laying on your back, too. he almost makes a comment about you copying him. he stares at the faux stars overhead, not tired enough to close his eyes and allow sleep it's victory for the night. there's not much to do while awake at the moment other than strain his ear to decipher to the tv's audio. his throat feels dry, but he's not motivated enough to sit up to grab a water bottle. anyway, he supposes you and he are staring at the same sky, in a cheesy way. he remembers reading something like that in a book.

he kills the time and his aching mind by finding stupid constellations in the stick-on stars. there's a slightly distorted dipper of some sort, and a heart. there's a lot of squares. there's a shape he passes off as orion, but he knows anyone a tad more into astronomy than him would gasp at the abstract shape and completely dismiss its resemblance to orion. 

eventually, your breathing slows to a rhythmic pace beside him. the logical part of his mind tells him to sleep now that you, too, are sleeping. he doesn't know why he waited for you to be asleep first. one pentagon constellation later, kaminari allows sleep's gaze to wash over and envelope him. the ghibli movie is still playing.

it seems that his friends have beat him, somehow, to the conclusion that denki kaminari has a bit of a crush on you. it's childish, really. he shouldn't like you, recalling your first words to him. they struck you apart from other people he'd met. back then, though, he never seriously thought about you like that. sure, you were conventionally attractive (enough for him to approach you to give you his number), but it was all in good fun. that's what you were, too, for the longest time: good fun and a friend.

until one day, glances lingered for too long while you weren't looking. one day, kaminari's jokes became more and more aimed for you, to hear your laughter in his ears. one day, kaminari realizes he has your usual coffee and bubble tea order memorized, when he can barely remember his own.

he pretends all of it is completely normal, but mina assures him differently. as does bakugou, which is strange, because he's usually not wrapped up in other people's affairs (when voicing this to the blond, he responded, "it's hard not to notice because you're too damn obvious"). it's kind of hard to ignore when bakugou calls it obvious (he's literally had kirishima pining over him since day one with no notice).

kaminari really does try to ignore the bubbling feeling rising at the bottom of his heart. he really does, but you keep on shaking and shaking his poor heart until it's all fizzy like a bottle of soda. he's weak, okay? one day, he’ll explode.

his friends are all urging him to confess to you already, but he cannot work up the nerve to do so. instead, kaminari drops you obvious hints that he likes you. he doesn't know whether you're completely oblivious to them or if you're deliberately ignoring them.

he's been so painfully obvious, he swears.

he's practically able to write a list of hints he's dropped. he's fairly confident he could publish it as an advice book with the title "how to tell your crush you like them without saying 'i like you.'" by this point, he's the king of obvious subtlety. 

the list would go something like this, in no particular order:

pick-up lines

"did it hurt, when you fell-" you were silent, "-from the vending machine? because you're a snack." 

silence. absolute radio silence. he was extremely tempted to run away from the sheer awkwardness between the two of you. as he turned to leave and freak out in private, he heard you mumble a belated "thanks," which made everything worth it.

he still left to freak out, though (and plan his next pick-up line to tell you).

manga references

"hey, y/n," kaminari had said one day, after a particular burst of confidence. you hadn't looked up from your book.

"if i were shinichi from detective conan, you'd be ran," he'd said, referencing the main love interests from the manga. "or maybe vice versa. you are the smart one in this relationship..."

you didn't bat an eye. "they never get together, though? shinichi and ran."

"they- they don't?!" he'd sputtered indignantly. he definitely needed to read up his detective conan lore. "but they both like each other?"

"true," you'd replied in typical you fashion, neither letting on whether you did like him or not. well, hey, kaminari had thought. you didn't deny it. progress.

hand size comparison (which was, in reality, just an excuse to kind of hold your hand)

kaminari had smoothly been planning this for weeks (which, according to sero, was a little sad). he'd bring up the topic of hands one day in your daily conversations, then nonchalantly slip a "oh, y/n, let's do a hand size comparison!" he high-fived himself mentally upon the formulation of this genius plan - you'd definitely fall for him (or at least, realize his feelings for you - this state of teetering between do they like me or do they not like me frustrated him for months on end). the perfect opportunity presented itself one day as the two of you lounged in mina’s room (which, at this point, had become you and your friends’ hangout spot) studying. 

“wow, you type fast,” kaminari remarked as he pretended to innocently look up from the “work” (changing his laptop wallpaper for the tenth time that day) he was doing. you were focused on your work, sitting on mina’s bed with your laptop propped up by a pillow on your lap. you’d barely registered his words, judging by the way your eyebrows scrunched and how you looked up at him after a slow beat. 

“oh, uh, thanks,” you replied. “i’m just copying some text down. i don’t usually type this fas…” you trailed off, eyes widening as you watched kaminari scooching next to you on the bed. he put his hand next to yours, whose fingers still ghosted the keys of your keyboard.

“look,” he said softly, bringing your hands up to eye level. “hand size comparison.” it was breathed out belatedly, but your crystalline eyes didn’t leave his. he started to curve his fingers in between yours, holding your hand so tenderly. he really, really didn’t want to let go. “we fit.” it was a whisper he wasn’t sure you could hear - did he want you to hear it? “like… a puzzle,” he added awkwardly.

you nodded, dazed, slowly bending your fingers over his. he rocked your clasped hands side to side, a fond feeling creeping through his limbs. it was warm and tingly - and maybe it was contagious. could you feel it too, buzzing past his fingertips to you?

precisely three minutes passed before kaminari’s arm started to ache. he didn’t catch your disappointed expression when he let go of your hand, but he did catch the smile that emerged when he held your hand as the sides of your fingers nudged the bed. you didn’t get much work done after that, sitting in silence with him. 

brushing your hand in a popcorn bucket

movie nights on fridays were commonplace at mina’s. the plan, this time, was created by kirishima, who said that it was manly with just the right amount of romantic. kaminari hoped so. the movie settled on was some romance flick, as decided by mina, kirishima, and sero’s pleading with a very begrudging bakugou.

he can’t remember much of the movie. what he can remember, however, is the very close presence of you next to him as the two of you shared a popcorn bucket (courtesy of sero’s very romantic ideas). your hands brushed a (purposeful, on kaminari’s end) dozen times throughout the film. the last couple were accidents. on the first time, though, kaminari watched with satisfaction from his peripheral view as you looked from him to the popcorn that obscured the place where your hands made contact. he was very satisfied by the time the movie ended. 

truth or drink (which just ended up with you and he both getting very, very drunk)

you didn’t particularly enjoy the taste of sake, but that night was an exception. according to your drunken explanation, you had a very rough day. your exam, first and foremost, did not go particularly well (“who cares about freud!?” you blurted. “i dooooon’t!”). kaminari didn’t have the heart to ask who this freud was. then, one of your close friends confessed to you (which almost made kaminari’s heart stop, when you first recounted it to him), and you had to turn them down. you adamantly refused any sort of relationship, you told kaminari. (“nuh uh,” you shook your head. “they’re not good.”) it was surprising to him that you opened up that night. your first couple drinks left you quieter than usual - which was scary, because kaminari was practically having a conversation with himself then. a couple more drinks loosened your tongue, though. 

“there’s someone i like.” you jabbed a finger at him. “but i’m not supposed to saaaay… and it’s scaaary,” you slurred.

“ohh?” kaminari asked, more focused on the burn in the back of his throat. “whooo is it?”

you looked at your arm outstretched to him, and the pieces fell into place slower than they should’ve. he first looked around, just in case he was covering the person you were really pointing to (of course, you and him were the only ones there).

“this guy?" he asked, flabbergasted and pointing to himself. "him?!"

you nodded solemnly. "but i don't like dating," you said stubbornly. "love is dead!" you announced, flopping on the carpet. 

kaminari watched the heaving of your breaths as you lay on the ground, and strained his ears to hear your soft, soberish murmuring.

"i really like you, denki kaminari."

a dopish grin formed itself on his face. "i really like you too, y/n." 

kaminari then promptly blacked out, but not before hearing you running to the bathroom to throw up.

as of now, he can’t recall anything he or you said that night. on the contrary, he can vividly remember the ringing in his head and the sickly feeling that overtook him the next morning.

"you two are so frustrating!" mina declares over her sweetened iced tea. she points at kaminari, then to you standing with sero in the distance. you’re animatedly talking about some painting (“it’s renoir!” you mooned when you first saw it) while he and the rest of the group sit on a nearby bench. 

kaminari puts his hands up. “don’t look at me - i tried my best!”

“yeah, sure,” mina dismisses. “and i’m the queen of england.”

“i mean, they already told me not to like them!” kaminari counters. “what am i supposed to do about that?”

“shoot your shot!” mina urges. “c’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? …wait, don’t answer that.”

“yeah, kaminari, bro,” kirishima puts his elbow on kaminari’s shoulder. “flirt a little bit more.”

“that’s all you two seem to do,” bakugou grumbles from the other side of kirishima.

“you just need a little push,” mina says. kaminari isn’t sure he likes mina’s definition of push.

“i think i’m g-”

“hey, sero, come here!” mina calls to sero in the distance, earning her a couple dirty glances from others in the gallery. “kaminari wants to look at the painting with y/n.”

oh, god, kaminari groans internally. sero, already walking toward the bench, flashes a knowing grin toward him. 

“go get ‘em, champ.” sero pats kaminari on the back as the blond stands up, emitting a low, audible groan. 

the four on the bench watch as your eyes light up at the approaching kaminari, who’s sheepishly scratching his neck. he says something - then you start again, rambling something about “impressionism” then “salon.” mina watches with clasped, anticipating hands; kirishima’s hand accidentally brushes bakugou’s, who’s holding a juice box and watching the two of you; sero simply smiles with knowledge that the others are unaware of.

“well, what do you think?” you finally ask kaminari, gesturing to the painting. 

“uhh,” kaminari says. he was too busy staring at your face - the twinkle in your eyes, the curve of your lips - to pay attention to any of what you’d said. something about impressing and fleeting moments. he looks at the person depicted in the composition, then back to you. he remembers kirishima’s words - flirt a little bit more. it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“i think it’s pretty,” he leans into you, murmuring so he can be sure no one but you and he hears his words, “but it’s definitely not as pretty as you.”

you look down at yourself; then, for whatever reason, to sero. kaminari looks at sero, too, who’s wearing this stupid smile that sets unease in kaminari’s chest. he gives you two big thumbs-up. he’s so confused by sero’s behavior that he barely registers the light sensation of something on his cheek - a kiss. he looks at you, who’s looking away, then to the bench, where his friends are cheering despite the disapproving looks from those around them. he touches his cheek out of disbelief. light swells in his chest - it’s warm, so warm - but your aloof voice brings him back to reality (which really, isn’t much different from a dream).

“kaminari, you’re very red right now.”

“the two of you,” mina exclaims with the two of her hands clasped together in excitement over skype, “should go to a manga cafe!”

kaminari blinks. “as a date?”

“i wasn’t thinking about it like that.” mina nudges him, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “but hey, that works too. i mean, they did kiss y-”

kaminari cuts the pink-haired girl off before she can finish. “is that something… they’d want to do?”

“mmm…. probably,” mina says. “they were reading manga when you first met them right?”

he can vividly remember the somewhat tattered volume of conan, the detective turned little boy who must solve crime while hiding his own identity. really, the wear was only on the soft cover, nudged and peeling on the corners with faded text splayed on the spine. the pages were in crisp condition, he’d noted one day as he (totally, completely discreetly) watched you read the copy again. the bookshelf in your dorm and the stack of books on your desk is littered with different mangas, ranging from the old classics (astroboy) to some newer works (your lie in april). he only remembers this fact because he really, really wants to borrow a copy of black butler (yes, it’s the one with the maid on it. she looks really hot with a gun, okay?). all your manga are well-taken care of, cared for diligently as if each book has a piece of your heart in it. besides, you rarely lend out any (sero once asked to borrow jujutsu kaisen and you very, very reluctantly handed it to him), so he doubts you’d trust him with it.

“hang on, lemme ask sero if they’d be interested in a manga cafe,” mina says, pulling out her phone. “they’ve been close lately,” she mumbles as she types out a quick text to him, a quiet ping letting kaminari know that she’s sent it.

after a pause, mina excitedly reads sero’s reply: “yeah, probably.”

well, that was a definitive answer. 

“there’s one nearby here,” mina offers. “hagakure told me good things about it, and she has a knack for finding the best spots in town. i’ll send you the address.”

“you think they’d like it?” kaminari says in an atypical bout of self-consciousness.

“of course,” mina replies instantly. “don’t you see how they look at you?”

usagi manga kissa makes kaminari cringe. it’s not the bunny-themed logo on the top of the building, nor is it the wide assortment of manga lining the walls, nor is it the cozy, soft seats nuzzled in the nooks and crannies of the café. it’s not even the life-sized cardboard cut-outs of various anime maid girls (he actually particularly really likes that detail). it’s the name itself. usagi is fine - kaminari likes bunnies as much as the next guy. manga is fine, too - he wouldn’t be here if not for the manga. the kissa makes him cringe for the most immature of reasons, like a five year old just learning basic english vocabulary. kissa innocently shortens the word kissaten, for cafeteria, but suspiciously sounds like the english word kiss. he does not want to think about kissing as he walks into the café with you, and especially not when the lady at the counter asks if you want a couples’ discount (you say yes, solely because it’s cheaper). 

he does not want to think about kissing as he walks next to you, browsing the manga selection and passing the shoujo section that boasts illustrations of happy couples and romantic imagery. he doesn’t want to think about kissing as the two of you walk to a “couple’s” room, you rambling about the plot of the manga you chose and him with some shounen volleyball manga in his hand. kissing is the worst thing to think about as your knee touches his in the cramped apparent two-person room. he is not thinking about kissing at all when you offer him your water bottle, half full, and he’s definitely not thinking about indirect kissing or anything when he takes a sip. that would be crazy. 

fortunate for him, his manga is full of not-kissing, so he’s able to somewhat enjoy it without his mind bombarding him with the fact that your face is less than a metre away. as he finishes up the volume, he realizes how much of a middle school student he feels like. 

“y/n,” he looks up to you and says. you’re watching an old episode of neon genesis evangelion on the computer provided in the room, the manga you were reading sitting on the table beside the keyboard. 

“yeah?” you respond and pause the anime. out of his peripherals, he can see you turn to look at him. he stares at the wall ahead of him, lacking the confidence to face you head-on. 

“remember when we first met?” he reminisces. 

“the cafe?” you say. “yeah.”

“if… i can ask,” he musters, “why did you say what you did then?”

you pause, taken aback. “i… i don’t know.”

“because,” kaminari starts, and you flinch, “i like you. a-and i know you said not to-”

a ghost has crossed your face. your mouth is agape, as if you suspected his feelings but never thought he’d verbalize them. he wonders what the kiss was about. 

“i’m,” you gulp, breath stuttering, “i’m sorry.”

kaminari lied. five days later of zero contact with you, he realizes he’s in deep. he doesn’t like you - he’s in love with you. they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and here he is, sifting through memories he had with you like they’re books. he should probably be studying instead of lying spread eagle on his bed, thinking of you. he can recall a promise made one night and the moment it was broken; he can remember the plastic stars he studied that night, falsely shining and lighting hope within him. he can remember dozens of constellations, half of which were geometric shapes, that he fell asleep to with you at his side. his heart aches, alighting a dull burn within him like a protostar barely able to burn hydrogen. 

there’s a polite knock at his door, so he assumes it to be either kirishima or sero. mina always enters unannounced and bakugou is far too brash to knock softly. slowly - almost reluctantly - he sits up in bed, standing up and making his way to the door. he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, telling him that his hair is an absolute mess and in no way presentable. he figures that either kirishima or sero will comment about it, but he never needed to impress them in the first place. turning the knob and opening the door, he’s expecting either of his friends, maybe here to nag him or ask him to come and study or say “hey, why haven’t you spammed the group chat with memes in a while? i missed them.”

he definitely isn’t expecting you, face pulled into a worried expression and lips held in a thin, anticipating line before you meet his eyes. you’re pouring out a waterfall of apologies at a thousand words per second as soon as he opens the door, letting yourself in and hardly taking notice of his bird’s nest hair. he guides you to the couch, attempting to interject and ask you to slow down, but he finds that it sounds rude at any given moment. you’re sitting on the couch, lamentations and explanations spilling from your lips as you grip the plush material of the cushion you sit on, when you finally pause to take a breath. kaminari uses this opportunity to interrupt you.

“woah, woah, woah.” he hesitantly puts a hand on your shoulder. “can you back up?”

“oh, yeah,” you start to move back in your seat and kaminari stifles a laugh.

“no, can you start your story from the beginning?” he asks. “take your time, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i’m really, really sorry about what happened the other day,” you apologize, then look at him finally and ogle his hair. “i got… scared,” you admit earnestly. before he can make any question of it, you continue, “i like you too, see. and i never really, seriously acted on it - i didn’t want to. so when you did the inevitable and confessed… it scared me. the truth is… i’m not the best at romance or relationships. i don’t want to put anyone through that, again.” your voice wavers but finishes strong as you look kaminari in the eyes.

“that?” he asks. he’s afraid he’s crossed a line, but you reply all the same.

“i was in a relationship, once. i wasn’t… i wasn’t good enough. i didn’t do the things that people in a relationship are supposed to do, i guess.” you fiddle with the fabric of the couch, looking down at your fingers. your voice gives away the vulnerability of the topic, wrapped in a stiff disconnection; you’ve distanced yourself from it, probably once too familiar with the feelings you speak of.

“it’s okay,” kaminari says, almost too quickly. he slows himself down. “that’s… completely fine,” he admits truthfully. “we can go slow. i… i can wait.”

“can you?” you look up at him, hope shining your eyes. it dims quickly before you say, “you don’t have to. i don’t want to limit you…”

“the only person i want is you,” he reassures you, hesitantly taking your hand in his. “you’re not…” he struggles for words, “...limiting me if i don’t have eyes for anyone else.”

“are you sure?” it’s an almost inaudible whisper, clutching your hopes in three words that are held together by thin threads. 

“i’ve never been more sure,” kaminari replies confidently, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

“okay,” you breathe out, relief tingeing your speech. “i… want to be with you.”

it takes everything in kaminari not to kiss you right there. 

“oh, by the way-” you say, standing up from the couch and leaving kaminari to sit alone, “did you still want to borrow that copy of black butler?”

“the one with the maid who has a gun?” kaminari asks, eyes wide. how did you know about that?

“yeah. you kept staring at it before, so i assumed…”

“yeah. yeah, no, yeah, that’d be really great. amazing, actually. wonderful. stupendous-” kaminari shuts himself up before he can ramble on longer. 

“okay, give me a second,” you respond, smiling, and exit to the hallway to retrieve the manga. 

you return with the volume in hand, placing it in kaminari’s hands. 

“thanks,” he says as he glides his thumb over the glossy cover and mint condition. it’s heavier than kaminari thought, and it feels like the weight of a heart. he’ll be sure to take extra care of it, holding it with ginger fingers and a sweet, sweet feeling in his chest.