#um i have. forgotten how to use photoshop but i needed to Just Make Something but also the quailty of these uh 🥴 anyway. arms that give

[perths]

...💪

[vanzhuo]

do you have any tips on how to start a writeblr, specifically how to meet more people and make some cool mutuals? :D i wanna start a writeblr but i don’t know anyone from the community and i feel like it’s not as fun without friends :(

ok so hey, first of all, i’m not good at articulating my thoughts well but here it goes -- there isn’t any one way to start a writeblr. when i’d started mine, i lounged around idly for a couple of months reblogging things from other writeblrs. when i finally mustered up wits to post an intro, some writeblrs reblogged and boosted it so that’s how many people found my blog. but like, at the beginning, i was clueless enough (don’t you dare laugh) to ask @semblanche what a taglist was because i was confused about why everyone was asking to be on it. so yeah. i’m gonna jot down a couple of things you should do if you want to like join the community under the cut since this is getting too long and you should all be saved from making the same mistakes i made at the start. and of course, some tips on networking around the community and finding new mutuals!

1. make an intro post. so the one thing i’ve learnt after changing blogs twice is, make an intro post you are satisfied with. it can be simple one, a text post where you use the header option to announce your writeblr (ex. if i were to make an intro, i’d say kalki’s writeblr) and then i’d put in my name, the kind of stuff i like to read, the kind of stuff i like to write and the wips i am writing. point is, it should be something you like, something that tells something about you. like the first time i did this, my intro said: this girl doesn’t know what she’s doing. the second time: she’s being too pretentious, move on people. so on and so forth. some people prefer using fancy images (i am some people) to introduce their blogs with an image post instead, but you’re fine with or without. one thing you should keep in mind is to like tag a few of your favorite blogs. i didn’t do this the first time round because i wasn’t sure what exactly i was doing but you should all know that if you tag your favorite blogs, then those blogs will (mostly, sometimes mentions mess up like it does with me and tumblr doesn’t notify you about being tagged) definitely reblog and boost it. that way, a lot of people will, if not engage with you, then at least know of your existence. here’s my intro post for this blog, if you want. it’s not very, um, formal because i was sleepy and thought it was funny. 

2. don’t be discouraged by the amount of notes on your intro. listen, i know we’d all feel bad if we had like 7 likes and 2 reblogs alright but don’t be discouraged. i mean now that i go back, my intro post has only about 36 notes. it really just depends on the timing. however, when you start posting content, those 10 people who’ve interacted with your post will like it and will reblog it for everyone to see and when people start seeing your content, they get interested and slowly, you’ll have more people to interact with and more people will discover your content and i think what i’m trying to say is that, the note count does matter but don’t be discouraged if it isn’t enough. it’ll take time but you’ll find a solid footing really soon, writeblr’s a really warm engaging place minus the anon hate people get sometimes. (see: @inheriting. all queen elle did was breathe, guys.) 

3. interact with other people and their content. so yes. it’s not a one side deal. if you want people to find your blog, you’ll have to start looking for more content too. when you see something good, reblog it or comment on it or even send an ask telling them it’s god tier content. that stuff makes up half the amount of serotonin in our brains. seriously. there’s nothing writers like more than people reblogging their posts with incoherent screaming or coming into their asks to tell them something they think is funny. you could even post something like: hey, i’m a new writeblr and i’m looking for content like (enter the genres or tropes you prefer) and if you have wips similar to this, then pls reblog this with their tags. i wanna start engaging more. something like that. yeah.

4. message other writeblrs? ok so this is a thing that i would not recommend doing ONLY because sometimes everything gets lost in my notifs and i don’t see messages for days and i know other writeblrs probably face this too. tumblr automatically reads them and doesn’t lmk and stuff like that. and secondly, most of us don’t really, like, answer dms all the time. sometimes i got something important to say so i’ll go to minnie @medusaswrites or to chel @starshots and scream about it and then when the topic of conversation closes, and it gets awkward (i do this so many times you don’t even know) we go back to ghosting private messages and instead blasting each other’s ask boxes with love. that’s just how this stuff works. but there are plenty of writeblrs who aren’t awkward with private messaging and they will LOVE to talk to you so there’s also that. honestly, i don’t know where i’m going with this so i’ll stop now. 

5. graphics and other things. ok so the main part, and the most important part, about a writeblr blog is the writing. so you’re a good writer, you’re a great writer. that’s not all though. sometimes you need to organize your blog. you use coded tags like tags for a particular character (say, my character tag for katya is oc: katya) and tags for a particular wip and inspo tags, resources tags, aesthetic tags, etc. this helps you organize your blog better. and finally, look, i know most people can’t do photoshop, either because it’s too expensive or too complicated and i get it. photoshop isn’t required honestly, there are tons of other things you can use. what mostly attracts attention is how attractive a blog can be. the layout for your blog for one. the picspam for your wip intro. that sort of thing. they are a couple of apps on phone that are free to use like picsart and canva (it’s on web too and honestly, the one thing you should use. it’s not like photoshop but it does the job and it does the job really well. if you want to ask someone about canva, you should go to raye @vigilantscar. she isn’t a writeblr but she’s good in that department.) also, if you’ve got something to ask about layouts or simple intro post demos and arrangement or the kind of pictures you should choose for them then slide into my dms, i’ll be happy to help.

i think that’s all? like true, writeblr isn’t fun without friends but this community is so nice and open that anyone can join anytime and you’d feel welcome. i also feel like i’ve not been able to get a few points across without sounding ignorant/awkward? or like i might have forgotten a few things? but honestly, i just woke up. also, i’m gonna tag a few blogs here that you should check out for good content in no particular order: @starshots @medusaswrites @carumens @vandorens @liarede @aelenko @inesnenci @kiesinger @medeaes @noloumna @emdrabbles and @inheriting. there are tons of other writeblrs with good content that i’m pretty sure i, with the memory of a goldfish, forgot to mention but. yeah. if you ever get round to posting an intro, tag me! i’ll be happy to interact! 

[perksofbeingaharrie]

PICTURE THIS - part:2

FRIENDS TO LOVERS FIC 

PART 2 is OUT NOW

The response to Part 1 has been so so nice! Thank you to everyone who is reading and appreciating. Here’s part 2 as promised!

The series takes on the angst part soon soon soon. GGAAHHH IM EXCITED. 

Look out for my works and like, reblog and comment plentiful!! Thank you so much. 

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut

PICTURE THIS - part:2

© perksofbeingaharrie

--

The tour of her life had only begun. But Harry Styles was on and off for his world tour.

With dates so close and bound, it was impossible that even a day of hers would go without setting up her camera, buying hundreds of SD cards from around the world and uploading, deleting and saving the best of the captured moments.

His day almost always coincided with hers. While he practiced, she clicked his pictures. When he lounged and relaxed, she came around with her soothing voice to indulge him in good thoughts. And when he performed, she looked up at him on stage with the biggest smile on her face.

All in all, there was never a moment when they were without one another. It was sometimes that he took the lead and sometimes her.

And when they were on breaks, he called her over for some personal, unplanned photoshoots. No extravagant lighting, no photoshop and no extra people. Just him and her and her camera.

She would dress him up, he would dress into his best. He would casually hang by the balcony, or his bed or by the kitchen, giggling, laughing out loud, sombre, dramatic and she would gladly click his beautiful face.

There was no barriers to when he was with her. She would ask him to strip down to his boxers and he would do so, of course with a little jest here and there but never with an intention.

She indulged in the comfort and casualness he exhibited when with her. It was almost so natural and she would do certain things in the flow of it like kiss him on the cheeks or stare at him for too long and it would never feel too weird. He was just so simple.

Harry couldn’t think of anything but breathe when around her. Breathe an amount full of hope, trust and honesty and exhale comfortably. She built this blanket around them, separating their world and the outside and for the few moments they were really together, Harry didn’t feel the need to fret or hesitate but just let go.

One day, while one of their photoshoots, he expressed one of his deepest desires.

“I want to try some makeup.”

She looked up from the floor where she had her bag wide open and camera ready to be pulled out.

His heart skipped a beat looking at her seem so alarmed at his proposal. He bit his lower lips and breathed too loud, scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh, um, like you know just for the pictures. Ju-Just to see if they look good…or-uh-“

“Sure.” Was all she said and then went back to setting up her tools.

He felt unsure but walked away anyway to change out of his usual clothes. When he returned, she is standing before the set up but not just with her camera, but with a small glittery pouch.

“This is all I could bring around for the tour. You see, I am not a big make-up fan.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners delicately. Harry swore he saw a halo over her head.

He chuckled back at her, shaking his head. “I guess we can begin with what we have?”

She nodded, gesturing grandly to the chair she set and he jogs his way to there. Down on the chair, he turned his face up and stared at her as she situated herself in front of him, nabbing her knees against his. With his legs now open, she slid in between them to begin her work.

“I’ll buy you some nice make-up too. We’ll need the foundation that is to your shade and I have too much nude shades – I think I’ll look up some peach and pinks for your skin to-“

“This isn’t weird, is it?”

She stopped midway in her work and looked down at him with assuring eyes. “There is nothing more beautiful than when you are this open to yourself, Harry.”

He gave a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“No,” She slid the first stroke of her brush against his cheek. “Thank you.”

And so he closed his eyes and let her do her magic. The results came out even better because somewhere her presence and her assurance made his heart smile from within.

This was all about her. The comfort and love of her was so uplifting to Harry in so many ways. He had been insecure before, his past friendships or relationships could never fathom to the kind of acceptance and acknowledgement he got from her. The way she talked, the way she shared and the way she acted – everything meant so much to him.

He liked her. Oh, he liked her so so much.

He thought about kissing her so many times.

But he just won’t. He never wanted to take this step to ruin what was already here for him.

Friends don’t talk for ages but they never forget you. Lovers don’t talk for some time and worlds are falling down. He cannot dare to commit to something now. He cannot wish to ruin what is here right in front of him now.

He hasn’t been the best when it comes to relationships. It is also been them at times, but he also admits it has been him at many many instances. He grows anxious over the thought to committing to someone and then hurting bad. He hates to even think that they get involved and it just does not work out.

Some people are just meant to fill in your life as friends. Best friends. They cannot be your lover.  

And so, he never commits.

--

“Harry!” She half whispers, half squeals.

They have been running for some time now. Further and further into the backdoors of the arena, Harry does not stop at all. He has his hand clasped around her wrist and she is having a hard time catching up thanks to his long legs taking twice as much as her steps.

“What the he-“

They finally pull into his make-up room. She is pushed in and he shuts the door behind them, panting with his back against it.

“The concert starts in 5 minutes, you!” She reminds him again, this time sterner.

He only laughs. She shakes her head at him, supressing the chuckle she herself feels coming up. Her heart has forgotten to feel weak since with him. Every day, every moment, it’s beating against her bones like it is the most excited child around the town and she is now used to this exhilarating feeling.

“I know, I know.” Harry reaches into the inside of his jacket’s pocket and pulls out a small whiskey bottle. Her eyes widen.

“Smuggled it from the VIP guests menu. I am not allowed to be taking this hard before the concert.” He uncaps the bottle giddily.

“And, what? I am your accomplice in this?” She tuts, crossing her arms over her chest.

He takes the first gulp, cringing at the burning taste travelling down his throat. “Yes.” He says to her, pushing the bottle towards her.

She shakes her head, but nevertheless, accepts the bottle. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“Don’t lie. You love this.” He walks behind her and leans back against the make-up dresser, ruffling his set hair.

“Geez.” She takes a sip, too big for her own liking and walks back to him to stand beside him.

He takes another sip and sets the bottle on the dresser. “Also, also.” He turns around, rummaging through the first drawer and pulls out a small palate of highlighter. “Put this on me?”

She smiles and takes the palate from him. Standing close to his leaning body, she applies some of the highlighter on the pad of her fingers and brings it close to his high cheekbones.

“You’re already so golden, Harry. What do you need more glitter for?”

He chuckles underneath her, eyes shut close as her fingers glide against his skin. “Even I realize this isn’t really needed. Just wanted this as a good luck from you.”

“I am always looking out for you.” She says, a smile in her voice.

He nods and opens his eyes, turning around to look at himself in the mirror. “Not bad.”

The door opens then and the production manager of the arena staggers in breathlessly. “Harry, Harry-“

“This is Dave, the production manager around here.” He turns to her. “And Dave, this is Y/N, photographer for the tour.”

Dave gives a courtesy smile and turns to Harry back again with panicking eyes. “The concert’s about to begin. Everyone’s going crazy looking for you!”

Harry sighs and turns to the mirror again. “I’m ready, I’m ready.” He brushes his hair again, admiring how the highlighter on his cheeks looks under the vanity lights.

She is ready with an encouraging smile when he turns and with one last wink to her, he is rushing out.

--

Jeff slings his arm around Harry, who is now changed out of his outfit into some comfortable joggers and shirt after the concert and they are headed back to their hotel.

“Can’t believe we’ll be leaving America soon.” He sighs. “We’ve played double the amount of events this time but it still feels like it’s coming to an end this soon.”

“I know right.” Harry agrees, sliding his arm around his waist.

“By the way,” He continues. “Have you seen Y/N? I haven’t been able to grab a hold of her since I came back from changing.”

Jeff nods. “Yeah, I saw her leave with the production manager of ours – what’s his name..”

“She left with Dave?” Harry stops mid-walking, turning to Jeff with a confused look on his face.

“Yeah. She told me they were going out for a drink.” Jeff shakes his head. “I completely forget – she told me to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?”

“This – that she is going out for drinks with Dave.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry sighs, returning from a daze he cannot even remember what for. “Well, she didn’t have to…”

They are walking again.

“Yeah, right. The girl’s having a good time. I am happy for her.” Jeff chuckles to himself.

Harry deems no reply. “I don’t understand though. We were supposed to meet up for our customary drinking post-concert…” He says more to himself.

“Why don’t you join us tonight then?” Jeff places a persuading hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s been a while.”

Harry opens his mouth and then closes it, thinking for a bit. She is out having her time and Harry does not want her or even him to feel the pressure that they depend on each other too much.

“Yeah, of course. I don’t want to feel lonely anyway.”

Jeff shakes his head, taking lead. “Oh, you with your shit again – c’mon let’s be quick then if we wanna catch up with the others.”

And Harry just realizes how much he is going to miss her tonight.

-

MASTERLIST   o   PART 1   o  PART 3  o  PART 4

PART 3 will be out tomorrow!

[thistreasurehunter]

Project Earplugs

Summary: Snippets from The Pogues’ WhatsApp messages. 

(Implied future Kie/Pope. Implied future JJ/Reader. This is set in a slight AU – the reader has always been one of the Pogues and none of the events of season 1 have taken place.)

A/N: I’m a long-time fanfic reader, but this is my first attempt at writing it. I’m very new to Tumblr, so I doubt anyone is actually going to see this, but I had fun writing it anyway.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Outer Banks characters or settings.

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

The Pogues WhatsApp Group Chat

JJ: I’m ravished. Like, seriously. My stomach just growled so loudly Miss Watts started looking out the window

JJ: So, I’m thinking free food at The Wreck tonight, who’s in??

John B: I don’t think that means what you think it means bro

You: I’m in!

John B: Yeah, me too

JJ: (replying to: “I don’t think that means what you think it means bro”) what??

Kie: Whoa guys

You: Where even are you JJ?

Pope: He means famished.

Pope: Also, I’m in

JJ: Detention

John B: Ah, stealth detention messaging. Nice.

Kie: Seriously, wait a sec guys, I need to check with my dad

You: But Kie… JJ needs shrimp and grits and to be told he’s ravishing!

John B: What was Miss Watts looking for?

JJ: An angry dog, I think.

John B: wtf

JJ: (replying to: “But Kie, JJ needs shrimp and grits and to be told he’s ravishing!”) After a quick google, happy to say I’d be okay with that mate 😉

Pope: Now I’m picturing JJ as the heroine in an old Hollywood black and white…. Someone pass me the brain bleach

You: hahahahaha!

You: Someone needs to Photoshop this!

JJ: I take it back. Just shrimp and grits please

JJ: So, meet at The Wreck in an hour?

John B: Yep

Pope: Cool. See you there.

You: On my way

Kie: Seriously guys, you’re lucky my dad only pretends not to like you. He’s said it’s fine btw. See you soon.

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

WhatsApp Chat with JJ

JJ: No

You: (devil face emoji)

JJ: Don’t

You: No promises

You: Grace Kelly?

JJ: Not funny

You: Lana Turner?

JJ :/

JJ: Fine, Audrey Hepburn

You: No way you could pull off Hepburn

JJ: Um, well, Marilyn Monroe then. Final offer

You: Sold

JJ: If I didn’t know you better I might be worried, but I know you’ll never be bothered to actually do this

You: I might surprise you

JJ: Not possible

You: Whatever

You: You out yet?

JJ: Yeah, she just let us go

You: Pick me up on your way?

JJ: Sure mate

You: Woop woop, shrimp awaits!

You: Well played with that btw 😊

JJ: Skill McGill

You: Dork

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

Whatsapp Chat with JJ

You: OMG, did you see that?!

JJ: Yeah

You: He’s being really obvious!

You: Why doesn’t Kie notice?!

You: I mean, he’s not being very subtle

JJ: Yeah, they need to bang already

You: Nicely put

You: Do people even say bang anymore?

JJ: I just did, so yeah

You: Seriously, they would be so cute together!

JJ: Agreed.

JJ: Also, the banging. That needs to happen

You: Sigh

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

John B created new WhatsApp group

John B added Kie and Pope to new group

John B named new group: “What are they even?!”

John B: They’re side texting again

Kie: Yep, caught that

Pope: What?

Kie: Seriously Pope, how could you miss that?! They’ve been sitting right in front of us all night!

Pope: Yeah, but what’s new?

Pope: Seriously though, isn’t that also what we’re doing right now?

Kie: Touché

John B: Yeah, but this is the first time we have and they literally do it all the time. Also, we waited until we got home to talk about them, we’re not sitting at the same table

Pope: True. But, so what? We all know they’ve got their own little thing going on – the super intense side friendship within the main friendship group.

Kie: Yes, but they should be more than friends! They’re clearly perfect for each other, but they’re both too dumb to see it!

John B: Truer words

Kie: We should help them

Pope: What?

John B: YES!

Kie: Stage 1: We need to get them to realise they have feelings for each other.

Kie: Stage 2: We need to get one of them to make a move.

Pope: But what if they don’t want to jeopardize their friendship?

Kie: Stage 3: We then all need to get earplugs for when we stay over that the Chateau, because the nocturnal noise levels will get ridiculous

John B: Gross. I love it. I’m in.

John B changed the name of the group to “Project Earplugs”

Pope: There are so many variables here that we haven’t though about

John B: Buzz kill

Kie: Come on Pope! It’ll be fun!

John B: Just a little bit of harmless meddling

Kie: Would you feel better if we made you Project Manager?

Pope: Haha, very funny.

Pope: I want veto power

John B: Not if you’re just going to veto everything

Pope: Well, if I make a spreadsheet you’ve both got to listen while I explain it. I think we should properly examine the variables first, our actions could have severe consequences. Then I’ll come up with a few ideas for actioning Stage 1. We should properly discuss the options before we act.

John B: Wow Pope, you’ve just made something fun sound like homework.

Pope: Can’t reply now, spreadsheeting.

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

WhatsApp chat between John B and Kie

John B: Project Manager? You’ve created a monster

Kie: He’s just being Pope

John B: OMG, a spreadsheet! Seriously Kie, what have you done?! Haha

Kie: He’s just concerned about his friends. I think it’s sweet.

John B: Okaaaay

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

WhatsApp chat between John B and JJ

John B: I get so annoyed when there’s something that needs to be made fun of and you’re not there.

JJ: What are you on about bro?

JJ: You know I’m in the spare room right? Who needs making fun of? You could literally shout it from there and I could hear you

John B: Yeah, never mind

JJ: Whatever dude

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

WhatsApp chat between you and JJ

JJ: John B’s being weird

You: huh?

JJ: I think he might have forgotten I was in the house

You: Jeez, what did you walk in on?!

JJ: Nothing like that

JJ: He’s just messaged me about teasing someone and complained I wasn’t there to hear it. Idk what that was about

You: You’re right, weird

JJ: Tbh, didn’t think you’d text back tonight, bit late for you isn’t it? wyd? 😉

You: Mind out of the gutter please

You: Nothing much, just on my laptop proving you wrong

JJ: No

You: Yep. Surprise, surprise!

JJ: No way

You sent a picture file.

You: Night Marilyn 😊

JJ: Oh dear God

[satoruvt]

go down together // pt. 4

the final chapter..... pls enjoy. i loved writing this hehe

pairing → bakugou katsuki x reader

word count → 1502

summary → “if we go down, then we go down together - they’ll say you could do anything, they’ll say that i was clever.”

song inspo → paris by the chainsmokers!!!!!

part one | part two | part three | part four

Your phone is too loud. It’s too early, you think, even when your mind registers the big numbers at the top of your screen - 10:39 AM. The sun that creeps through the small opening in your curtains forces you to wake up, conveniently placed across your eyes. You blink, once, twice, but then your eyes are wide open. What the hell is going on?

Ground Zero and Y/H/N spotted on a late-night date!

You’re used to the dramatic news reports, the photoshopped pictures of you and a colleague. But this one, although dramatic, is definitely real, and that picture is definitely not photoshopped. You and Bakugou are sitting inside his hero agency, you recognize, and his hands are in yours and you look like you’re honest to God falling in love with him and oh no, that’s why everyone is freaking out and does he know yet?

Scandals don’t bother you, but maybe it’s the fact that you do have a little bit of a thing for Bakugou that’s making you freak out. Your blood is pumping and he’s not picking up his phone and you need to get to him now.

Getting dressed is quick, throwing on sweatpants and a sweater, some sunglasses to combat the bright sun (and to hide from the people outside who might try to recognize you). You throw open the door and bound down the stairs of your apartment building. The agency isn’t too far, and although you haven’t before, you start running to it.

By the time you get to Bakugou’s office, windblown and out of breath, your phone is still vibrating. One message catches your eye when you check your phone.

You know he’s just gonna bring you down, right?

Has Bakugou seen this?

His office is quiet, but he’s sitting at his desk, and yes, he has seen it. The look on his face is torn between hurt and angry - mostly angry - and you know he’s read the articles and seen the tweets and the inevitable fan edits. You make yourself known with a soft sigh and he looks up at you.

“You’ve seen it, right?” You ask, and he scoffs, but it’s emotionless.

“If it wouldn’t get me arrested, I’d murder the entirety of those fucking news accounts.”

“What are we gonna do?” You breathe, and you hate how exasperated you are over something so simple. It’s not as if it hasn’t happened before, so why is it such a big deal now? “The media - everyone’s freaking out - I’m freaking out! Oh, God.”

“Would you calm down?” Bakugou snaps, and you give him a desperate look. How can he not be panicking, too, with the way everyone’s talking about him? “It doesn’t matter.”

You collapse onto a chair, leg bouncing in anxiety. Bakugou gets up out of his own chair, comes around his desk to where you’re sitting. His fist meets the top of your head, but it’s gentle, like his own form of comfort. You feel calmer when you look up at him, because he looks determined. A cocky smile dresses his lips.

“If we go down, then we go down together,” he says, and it’s a command, but even if it wasn’t you know you’d go down with him anyways. “When we’re done with this they’ll say we could do anything.”

Your brain is telling you to kiss him. All it would take is a little bit of leaning on your part, up and up until your lips are touching. You wonder how he kisses, how it’d feel and how he’d hold you. An arm around your waist, maybe, or a finger under your chin. His lips are warm, soft, and he smells so good…

“Let’s go over the plan again.” 

Bakugou’s walking away, towards that familiar table. You blink, still lost in your daydream, and follow after him.

-

The trip to the robbers’ headquarters is quiet.

It’s a different quiet than your first attempt; it’s more determined, optimistic. You’re not sure what might come out of this, but it feels better than before. You know Bakugou feels the same way, even if he’s not saying anything. Both of you have faith in this plan.

You’ll show everyone that you’re better.

-

Your lungs are burning. Bakugou pants beside you, but he’s not worn out, not yet. The grin on his face lets you know he’s just getting started. The leader of the group is standing in front of you, quirk on full display, and you keep looking for ways to hit him. Your arm is bleeding harsh, but the sting of pain is distant - all you need to focus on is getting this guy down.

“You think you can handle this, Y/N?” Bakugou’s voice reaches you, and you turn to him. A smile plays on your lips that matches his own. You wipe invisible dirt from your cheek.

“If we go down, then we go down together, right?” 

The bad guy goes into a monologue, like they always do, but you can’t find yourself to care enough to listen. An opening, you need -

There.

You send Bakugou a look - an opening, you say with your eyes. He nods. Both of you look back at the villain, and before he can finish his speech, you rush towards him.

-

Your apartment feels dusty when you finally get home, but it’s welcoming nonetheless. A few days in the hospital will do that, you suppose. You’re giddy with happiness at the thought that your and Bakugou’s plan went through flawlessly.

You had given Bakugou that opening to hit the villain with his quirk, and it worked beautifully. The villain was down - not dead, either, so you could gather information - and the country finally knew that there was more to you than at first glance. Media coverage was big (it had to be, after Bakugou almost lit up the entire building), and people seemed to be recognizing that Ground Zero is more than his abrasive personality.

You’re sitting on your sofa, scrolling through your phone, and a knock on your front door makes you jump. The wound on your arm is still sore and you hiss as you push yourself off of the couch.

You’re not sure who you expected to be at the door, but it wasn’t Bakugou. He’s got his hands in his pockets, and he’s not looking at the door, instead at the ground. When you open the door his head shoots up and you offer him a confused smile.

“Hey,” you say softly, and there’s something more in his eyes when he looks at you now. A beat of silence passes.

“Are you gonna let me in or what?” He growls, but it’s gentle. You let out a quick laugh as you open the door for him. Bakugou walks in, stands awkwardly by the sofa.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say, now noticing the forgotten clothes on the ground. “I just got back from the hospital. But, um, what are you doing here?”

You move to sit on the sofa when he speaks, looking up at him. “Stupid Deku gave me your address, said he’s been here before,” he says, and you nod. A beat of silence passes. “And they… they said you got beat up pretty bad in the fight. I… wanted to check in.”

You blink, then bite your lip to hold in a smile. He looks increasingly uncomfortable the more you fail to do so, but you when you pat the space next to you he sits down, stiff. “You were worried?” you ask.

“Look, dumbass, don’t get ahead of yourself,” he starts, and you snort. “I’m just saying that I don’t… hate you as much as I hate other people.”

Your heart is skipping beats. You’ve been around Bakugou long enough to know what he means, and you idly play with your fingers as you speak again.

“So… you’re saying you like me?”

“No, I fucking said -”

“You like me.”

Bakugou doesn’t protest, and his face is getting redder by the second. You scoot a little closer to him, your shoulder touching his. 

“Well,” you begin, taking a risk and looking at him. “It might be good news for you to know that I like you too, Bakugou.”

He looks at you, now, and his eyes are smoldering. You feel warm under his gaze and he’s close and maybe you’ll finally get to know what it’s like to kiss him, how he feels and how he moves. You’re close to him already; all it takes is a simple push forward, a little bit of a lean up. You feel his breath on your skin.

His lips are warm when you finally meet. Surprisingly soft, and he sighs against your mouth, like he’s been waiting for as long as you have. You lean further into him and he accepts you, pulling you closer and your heart is pounding and he knows and you do too.

If we go down, then we go down together.

[pluckyredhead]

Anyway, if you're up for some good old-fashioned Boostle banter and smooching, anything Darkwing Duck, or some found-family fluff with the STAR labs wonder trio (shippy or not) I think that would be delightful.

This turned out less banter-y and more “the beginning of a 30K romcom I’ll never write” but I hope you like it anyway? :D? It’s set in the Rebirth universe, which, if you’re not reading it: Ted is, uh, “mentoring” Jaime (who thinks he’s annoying and wants him to go away) and had a brief superhero career himself, and Booster is...well, he hasn’t been seen in Rebirth yet but I’m assuming he’s still basically the shallow showboater we saw in New 52. Ted throws a little shade at him in passing in a recent issue, it made me smile.

ANYWAY ENJOY (I HOPE):

“Mr. Kord? There’s, uh...somebody here to see you.”

Ted sighed and pressed the speakerphone button. “I thought my schedule was clear for the rest of the afternoon, Connie. I was just about to head down to the lab.” He was already loosening his tie as he spoke. Among other things, being in the lab instead of the office meant not having to wear a monkey suit a second longer than he had to.

More importantly, it meant getting to study whatever the hell was going on with Jaime’s scarab instead of P&L reports, but that wasn’t information he could share with his hardworking staff.

“He doesn’t have an appointment but he’s, um, very insistent.”

Ted frowned. Connie sounded more flustered than alarmed, so the guy couldn’t be too much of a kook - and even if he was, Ted hadn’t forgotten all of his aikido. He was probably just a pushy reporter or job candidate. Ted could handle either of those options quickly enough, and it sounded like he wasn’t getting out the door until he did.

“Fine. Send him in.”

Ted hung up the phone and went back to shutting down his computer, tugging his tie the rest of the way off as he did. He heard the door swing open.

“I’m flattered, but no need to get undressed on my account,” said an amused - and oddly familiar - voice.

Ted glanced over, and then did a cartoonish double take. Standing in the doorway of his office was none other than Booster Gold, the self-promoting laughingstock of the superhero set. There was no mistaking him, even if his face hadn’t been plastered all over every billboard and magazine ad from here to L.A., since he was wearing that ridiculously shiny costume - though the effect was ruined a little by the backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Uh, I, um,” Ted stammered, thrown. “I...can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so,” Gold said, closing the door behind him and taking a seat in the chair opposite Ted’s desk, even though he hadn’t been invited to do either of those things. “I need a favor, Teddy. Can I call you Teddy?”

Ted’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he said.

“Fair enough,” Gold said, unperturbed. “See, I have a little technological problem on my hands, and I think you’re the man to help me with it.”

Ted folded his arms. He was tempted to throw this walking toothpaste ad out on his ear, but heaven help him, he kind of wanted to hear what the guy had to say. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, see, this particular problem has to do with technology from the future. My era. The twenty-fifth century.”

“Right, well, I’m from the twenty-first century, so I’m not sure what qualifies me to work on something you claim won’t be built for four hundred years,” Ted replied.

Gold put on an expression of mock surprise. “What? Where’s the self-confidence, Teddy? Where’s that rulesbreaking young turk of the technocorporate world I read about in Forbes? Aren’t you supposed to be one of the brightest minds of your generation?” He leaned forward. His smile was, Ted was dismayed to realize, even more dazzling in person than on those billboards. Photoshop had told no lies. “After all, you figured out Blue Beetle’s scarab, didn’t you?”

Ted fumbled his attempt to pick up his briefcase. “I...I don’t...I’m not...what?” he asked intelligently.

“Now, here’s what I’ve never understood,” Gold mused. “A kid powered by a magical scarab calling himself the Blue Beetle - that, I get. But you came first, and you didn’t use the scarab. So how’d you get the name?”

Ted gaped for another minute, then slowly closed his jaw and put his shoulders back. Mentally he ran over every power of Booster Gold’s he’d ever heard about on the news. Strength, flight, force field… He’d rather not fight a guy who could fly from his fortieth floor office, but he’d faced worse odds.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I told you,” Gold said. “I need your help.”

“If you think threatening me is the best way to - ”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, that wasn’t a threat!” Gold said, sitting forward and dropping the lazy facade.

“You come in here and tell me you know not just my secrets, but those of people who trust me, and that’s not supposed to be a threat?” Ted asked. “How did you even know? Have you been following me?”

Gold spread his hands. “I’m from the future, remember? It - some things about you - they’re common knowledge.”

Ted blinked. “My...my superhero career will be common knowledge in the future?” That was a surprisingly thrilling thought.

“Ah, no.” Gold rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “That’s sort of a footnote in most of the biographies. But you’re a landmark inventor. I shouldn’t tell you details, but...”

“Wait, for what? Something with Kord Inc.? Something with the scarab?” Ted asked, then caught himself. Gold could well be making all of this up. “Never mind. Look, what exactly is it you need me to do?”

Gold picked up the backpack he’d left on the floor by his chair and opened it up. Ted took a wary step back, but all Gold did was place something metal on Ted’s desk. It was about the size and shape of a football and as gleamingly gold as the man himself, with three little fins on one end and a darkened black screen on the other.

Gold looked up at Ted, and for the first time since he’d walked in, he looked serious.

“His name’s Skeets,” he said. “He’s my friend. And you’re the only one who can fix him.”