#and im stuck without internet for a few days helps

[echoversit]

Questions 1

I'll probably turn this into a mini-series of questions I wish I could ask Sun and Moon and their replies. This was inspired by @bamsara 's immaculate fic Solar Lunacy (which I have been posting a lot about whoops). Word count is about 1.8k so enjoy!

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     “I’ve got a question.” You say, sagging into the desk chair the same way you do after every long shift. You’re not even halfway through yet. Sun watches you curiously from the other side of the desk, moving to sit on it, hands moving to support him as he leans back. 

     “Shoot!” he sends you a grin and you mostly send one back. His gaze seems to intensify slightly, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“How do you guys solve problems?” you ask. Sun’s eyebrows raise slightly as he starts to think, a hand coming up to his chin.

“Permanently.” He seems to interrupt his own thinking, looking surprised and then his face goes suddenly blank, before he comes back and chuckles nervously. “Ahaha, what a thing to say! I’m not sure that was quite what I meant to-”

“You know, your face goes blank when you’re talking to Moon.” you interrupt him, eyebrows raised incredulously but a smile on your face. He blinks at you, genuinely surprised. 

“Really?” You nod.

“Oh yeah…I can also tell when Moon’s talking even when it's your turn. It’s kind of obvious. But you don’t talk a lot when it’s his turn. Is it harder to talk when it’s you or do you not have alot to say..?” You take a moment to look at his reaction. His eyebrows are raised in consternation, and there’s a wide smile on his face despite the intensity of his gaze.

“Well, sunshine, I didn’t realize you knew us so well!” he said, a hand coming to frame his face charmingly, sending you a wink. “But we got off topic, how do we solve problems? I usually try to figure out exactly what the source of the problem is and work top down.”

Your eyebrows narrow in thought. “...um, could I have an example?” He nodded quickly.

“Sure! Just the other day, a whole group of children had an upset. If I tried calming down each child individually, it could take all day and the problem might not be solved. I found the one that was the most upset- one of the younger ones- and discovered that he was extra hungry since he hadn’t had breakfast and it was already lunch! I gave him some food, he stopped crying, and with a little comforting, the rest of the children stopped too, since they were only crying in reaction to his tantrum.”

You scratch your cheek absentmindedly. “That makes sense. I like that approach.”

“Well thank you!” he leans a little closer to you. “What made you ask that question? Something happen in the outside world?” You cocked your head, a different question suddenly in mind.

“Sun..do you ever wish you could leave the daycare? Or even the pizzaplex?”

Sun’s face instantly went blank for a full ten seconds. When he came back, he fully shivered back into his frame, before his eyes jolted wide as his shaky grin. “What? What a silly question, that can’t have been what you were thinking of!” 

Your eyebrows furrow in concern. “No, I’m- are you ok? You just always say ‘outside world,’ and it made me curious-”

“Yes! We’re fine!! Now, no more pesky distractions, what happened to make you curious about problem solving?” His tone is a little less warm than you’re used to, but you try to shrug it off, studying his expression and latching onto the tiny, pinprick pupils that only appear when something has not gone to plan. You hold them for a long moment, watching as his guard tenses again, before your lips press together and you sigh, giving up. His tension lessens.

“I asked because there’s some stuff going on in my project group, and I’m not sure how to fix it.”

“Hmm, is that why I see a contact named “GP Idiot DNI” show up in your phone notifications?” he said casually, and you frown at him, glancing down at your phone, tossed onto the desk carelessly, now lighting up with text messages. You groan, partially forgetting the tension still in the air. 

“Yeah. Some of my groupmates have an issue with the leader, who…” your phone buzzes again, and you silence it decisively. “will not leave me alone. I’ve kind of become the center of the problem without even attempting to get into their argument.”

Sun made a sympathetic sound. “That does sound tough. Have you tried asking what happened?”

You roll your eyes. “I did, actually. I got a couple versions. The original argument was a year ago, they don’t even fully remember what happened. Making amends is out though, both parties made that clear.”

He hummed. “Well, have you tried switching groups? If you’ve become the center of a problem that’s not even recent, remove yourself. They can fight it out amongst themselves. Or just fail the project.”

You straighten. “I guess that’s a possibility. I’ll have to email my prof. I just feel bad..it’s my only on-campus class this semester, and I’ve been trying really hard since I know the professor.”

A large hand is placed on your shoulder.  Raising your head, Sun looks down at you kindly. “If you know them, they know how hard of a worker you are. I’m sure they’ll understand.” You smile back up, pleased with your solution. Thinking about it a little, you’re pretty sure if you explain it at the next class, the prof will let you switch. There’s still enough time. You put your hand over his in a show of thanks.

“Thanks, Sun. I guess I just needed a new perspective. I don’t really have a lot of people to ask, but I’m glad I talked to you about it.” You fiddle with your other hand a little as you say it. His smile shrinks but grows considerably more genuine.

“Well I’m flattered that you thought to come to me first.” he says softly, thumb smoothing slowly over your hand exactly twice before he stood up suddenly. “Now, we need to finish cleaning up! We’ve left this awful mess for this long?”

You chuckle quietly and heave yourself out of the comfortable security chair.

-----------

You make eye contact with the red-eyed wonder to your right as you fiddle with a broken security bot.

“Hey Moon?”

His attention on you sharpens. His eyes are always on you anyways, but you tend to attribute it to his security programming. Facial recognition and all that.

“How come you can speak when Sun’s out but he doesn’t speak when you’re out?”

He blinks once, face going neutral for a moment before he shrugs. You grimace at him, and he tugs at his cap. After you glare at him for a few more seconds, he lifts into the air slightly on the wire system, body going slightly limp as he does so- his nervous tell. You try not to break your gaze in triumph.

“-gets more time.” You blink. 

“Hmm?”

“There’s more lights on than off. I get a little bit of his turn.”

You consider this. The pizzaplex is lights on around 7AM, but opens at 8. Then, the building closes at 10:30 at night, but depending on your shift the lights can stay on until midnight. That’s only 7-8 hours for Moon versus- you double check your math- 16 or 17 for Sun? No wonder they’re so neurotic- Sun barely gets any rest and Moon gets barely any time to stretch his legs. You say the first thing that comes to mind.

“That’s not fair.” Moon floats a foot or two above the ground, still. Listening. You continue. “Management or Parts and Services need to even that out. Or make lights turn out quicker or something. You only get a few hours to be fully active and Sun has to run for most of the day? You’ve got to be restless out of your mind and Sun’s got to be fucking exhausted. I bet that’s part of why he doesn’t say much when it’s you turn.” you finish, frustrated on the animatronic’s behalf. 

Moon stares at you, eyes white. He doesn’t even manage a “language.” You take this as a confirmation of your speculation.

You hum. “I bet if I email Management about that and make a case about not overworking one side of the daycare attendant over the other they’d do something about it.” you think for a moment. “I might say something about it to Freddy too? I think he mentioned that he can make complaints to management one time.” You walk over to Moon and pat him on the arm since you can’t reach his shoulder. “Would that help a bit?” You don’t want to overstep. Moon looks at you, blinking one eye into a red glow. He smiles at you, something closer to real from Moon than you’d seen yet.

“Problem-solver. New nickname?” You laugh at the reference to your earlier conversation. “No, I’ll keep the one have, thanks.” you flash your gifted nametag and his smile sharpens in delight. You wink at him, and turn to screw the last few bolts into the security bot and watch it's eyes flash on. After setting it on it’s way, you turn back to Moon as he does what Sun did earlier and shivers slightly, eyes refocusing on you after a moment. You stand again and wipe off your knees, stretching and then checking your watch. It’s late. You look up meet Moon’s eyes head on, finding him quite a bit closer to you than a few seconds ago, watching you very closely from just a foot or two to your side, feet back on the ground. You startle slightly at the looming animatronic, but shrug it off, clearing your throat. 

“I should probably head out, I have class tomorrow..” you say, almost regretful to go, but you can’t think of any other reason to stay. Moon silently escorts you to the staff exit door onthe wire system. As you wave and open the door, he snickers seemingly to nothing, then turns back to you.

“If you are not removed from your group project idiot..remove them.” You shake your head in amusement. 

“Nope, sorry. Not happening, thank though. Goodnight, Moon.”

He stares into space for a minute, face blank and eyes black. The red glow comes back after a moment. 

“Goodnight Brat.” then, a slight crackle. His eyes flicker white briefly. Then, a much brighter voice comes out then you were used to. “Goodnight, Sunshine! See you tomorrow!”

You straighten, then grin and wave again. Moon’s eyes shift fully to white. “Goodnight Sun! Both of you have a nice night!” a silent wave accompanies you out the door. 

As you clock out and exit the building, the night’s discussions leave you thinking. An email to management was definitely in order to solve that issue- Sun and Moon would probably be a lot calmer if their schedule was evened out. They might enjoy things more, and that might help whatever was wrong with Moon...? You tuck that thought away for now. That was one problem solved, but you wouldn’t be forgetting that system reboot when you asked if they ever wanted to leave. Getting in your car, you russle through your bag and toss the heavy “Fazbear Entertainment Extended Staff Rules, Guidelines, Legal Reminders, and Permissions” book onto your dashboard and prepared yourself for a late night of McDonald’s coffee. You had some reading to do about how far your animatronic handling responsibilities can stretch.

[witchessrose]

Hey, if you have multiplicity could you please spare the time? I'm a questioning system and desperately need input.

I know the internet can't diagnose me, but I'm hoping people who may know more could help steer me in the right direction, or at least affirm to me whether or not I should start the process of reaching out to doctors for a potential diagnosis. I just dont know who to talk to about this. And fear talking about it to people I know because I'm so afraid that I'm,,, faking it??

What I'm looking into right now is Partial DID or maybe even OSDD? Keep in mind I was diagnosed with autism about a month ago before I finally started really noticing/growing awareness of somethings ive been in denial of.

-For example the talking to "myself" and getting immediate responses

-Talking back and forth with "myself", sometimes accidentally speaking outloud without realizing it

-I previously believed myself to by psychic because often when I ask myself questions in my head "someone" will answer me, often with information I wasn't aware of myself. I am now questioning if I've ever actually been a medium...

- I thought this was my echolalia, and maybe it is (if ur an autistic system maybe u could tell me if u relate for reference?) But often my mind will repeat different names to me. To the point where it can be very frustrating and distracting. The two names they tell me the most, is Penelope and Jasmine.

- I have different versions of myself that help with different situations. There's also a mean one, which is one of the few versions of.. Me? In my head that I don't associate myself with. I don't see that one as me, the way I can see the other ones as me.

- I was recently diagnosed with a "cognitive dysfunction of unknown origins" which is basically my neurologists way of saying she has no idea why I have forms of amnesia. While I am always... Somewhat... Present, I rarely remember an entire week, let alone parts of the day. Down to conversations I'm in the middle of having. I also can't remember most of my childhood.

- I sometimes feel like im in a video game, and the world around me will start to feel very fake, and small, like I'm everywhere. And I'll have to very manually control my body. The other day this happened when I had to perform a function on a very mentally draining day. Go to the store. To me, I want to say, someone else helped bring me to the store, because I wasn't really there. But at the same time, I was. Its this that conflicts me, but I found out that sometimes a person can be stuck in front? And wonder if that's what I'm experiencing.

-When I get in those states I often describe it as "being in autopilot" I will complete entire tasks without being aware of any of the process or fully remembering it. I'll be there, I'll know if was done, but my body did it for me. Again, because its not complete amnesia, I wonder if this could actually just be me in autopilot.

There's a lot more but I feel like I'm dragging it, I don't want it to be too long because I'm really hoping for some actual responses.

I'm afraid that I've tricked myself. Or being inconsiderate to ddiagnosed systems with these questions in anyway? Its not like I'm determined to have it, I just want to know what's wrong(for lack of a better term) w me. I haven't told anyone about this, I just want to know if I'm imagining this all in my head, or if other systems can relate to any of this?

[k1ss-m3-b3tt3r]

✟ Mary on a Cross ✟

pairing: Khonshu x gn! reader (platonic), mentions of marc and steven

summary: you cant see khonshu but you can sense him until one day you do see him. marc tells you how much of an over-the-top asshole hes been. as marc speaks about it, you realize this might be deeper than expected.

warnings: swearing

a/n: this is my first post and first fanfic in a long time. please, be patient with me and happy reading. :)

all day, and i mean all day, you couldnt get this stupid song out of your head. it was almost like it was drilling into your brain to put it simply. even at work, your coworkers kept asking what the song was while you were unknowingly humming it. you cursed at yourself, not being able to help it at this point.

there was only one cure to this and you had to just listen to the song over and over again until you pass out, which was a common assurance due to your constant loving music ass.

“couldnt survive one day without it can i?” you said just trying to stare at the clocking zoning out, hopefully for some reason thinking it would move faster. now, what song you may ask, its mary on a cross by ghost. with that song floating around the internet, who couldnt have it stuck in their head 24/7.

“FINALLY!” you said loudy, disturbing the people around you but honestly you didnt care. you barged out of work, clocking out and just saying a quick bye to a few coworkers that, surprisingly, didnt piss you off.

luckily, you didnt miss the bus on your way home. as the bus pushed you back and forth with every stop, all a sudden your ring tone blurted out causing you to freak out for a second. “well, that was hella embarrassing.”

you read the contact, “steven? what does he want?” you looked outside and it was almost dark with the sun setting already. you knew it was a long shift but damn. you clicked the answer button and immediately heard a grumpy voice.

“ah, marc whats up?” “howd you even know,” he responded with a slow sigh after it. it took you a second but you connected the pieces. “back from work?” you asked, not surprised hearing a long yup. “do you mind coming over to drop off some milk or something. im trying to actually cook for once but its not exactly going as planned,” marc groaned loudly.

‘such a drama queen,’ you thought and honestly you might be right half the time just thinking about past occurrences. “alright, guess ill come over and cook tonight,” before he could even say anything you hung up not ready to put up with him.

‘damn it, i might not even be able to listen to the song,’ you groaned, sounding just like marc at that point. then, the bus almost threw you while saying next stop and i mean.. it is your stop so you guess you should honestly be grateful for the driver notifying you?

you moved through all the bags and people in the bus until taking a step off the bus and onto the dirty ground while carrying your satchel, which old but it worked for its purposes. you turned back and the bus was quickly turning around a corner. ‘those poor people,’ you laughed lightly to yourself.

you walked into your apartment complex and it was a bit dingy you must admit but it was home and at least you had one. you lived two doors down from marc or steven i suppose, depending on the day.

“you go down.. bloody mary mary on a-“ you swung the door open as you kept murmuring the song in and out. ‘can nothing stop the song already?’

your apartment was pretty boring, not going to lie. you had basic minimal things: a couch, crusty wooden chairs, a table that feels like its going to tip over any minute. “yeah.. maybe i should fix that soon..” you slowly muttered to yourself but reminded yourself that you had a meal to cook two door doors down.

you threw your stuff down from work and grabbed the milk, slamming it closed and sighing because you had to go back and close it gently. then strutted your way down the hall outside the apartment for which you live in and gently knocked on the door.

there was no answer. “MARC IMMA HOLLER IF YOU DONT LET ME IN!” you were so mentally tired and exhausted. eventually, the door swung open when you knocked even harder repeatedly.

“you were already hollering in the first place,” he rolled his eyes, “come in, i guess.” “you better be greatful im even cooking you food. “well, it wasnt a choice was it?” he squinted at you. what he said was true so you went around him and inside his apartment.

still looked the same: books everywhere, everything scattered but organized at the same time? ‘how the hell does that make sense?’

as you started cooking this meal, which you arent even a good cook actually, marc started ranting about his day and how khonshu, yes you know about him, was a dick. i mean, you figured after hearing marc constantly argue with them ever since you found out, which was easy. ‘people are so dumb nowadays or.. maybe im smart! nahhh’

you were constantly in your own thoughts until marc started saying stuff that concerned you a bit. “it was like khonshu was having a grumpy breakdown or just wasnt paying attention to the job! he was weird. like stop zoning out for one minute just staring at people! its creepy and on top of that, he kept mentioning how he looked constantly?-“

“what about his looks?” you inquired. “im not even sure at this point, he just comparing him and other gods and people, and how he was never really worshiped blah blah blah. besides that, it almost seemed like hes been grumpy and attention seeking, trying to “fit in” i guess. and im like STOP IT youre a god am i right?”

“hum.. are you sure it was attention seeking and not yearning for the fact that he is not like you and me?” you could sense the upsetting aura around you and knew khonshu must be there, which was a rare occurrence to you.

“you could be right or you could be wrong, im not sure,” marc actually looked thoughtful for a second before saying, “but hes a god, what more can he want. im going to take a shower, you can tell me when its done.” he walked out of there with a questionable face, but you didnt question anything as you kept stirring the pot just full of noodles and alfredo sauce.

you felt the presence growing stronger and stronger and sadder and sadder. you started humming and humming, not able to take it anymore and started up your phone playing mary on a cross, finally trying to get it out of your head. you couldnt help but sing along with it.

“but through all the sorrow we were riding highhh,” trying to hit that note and actually nailing it, you fist bumped the air and continued, “and the truth of the matter is i had to let you gooo let you gooo!”

you turned around and quiet down for a second singing, “you go down just like bloody mary… mary on a mary on a cross..”

you look up and there you were looking khonshu in his eye sockets and got a really good look at him. surprisingly, you werent startled and just kept going, “you go down just like holy mary mary on a mary on a cross”

you leaned in touching his beak letting him know you were there and could see him, “not just another bloody mary mary on a mary on aaa”

as the chorus picked up, you took your hand off and started fake drumming making the mood lighter and goofier, you werent a sap and you knew it so you did the best you could, “you go down just like holy maryy mary on a mary on a cross!”

you turn towards him and laughed a bit but these words unknowingly stuck with him harder than you anticipated, “your beauty never ever scared me!”

he turned away and laughed silently embarrassed but glad for a quick second, which was strange of him and concerning for other people but he honestly did feel better. he gave you a thought as you kept singing and vanished after saying, “thank you..”

you nod and keep singing until you hit the last verse of the song. the energy around you felt so much lighter than before and you finally got that stupid song out your head. ‘i guess it wasnt so stupid. it cheered him up at least a little bit’

marc walks into the kitchen, all dressed and ready for food clearly. as you poured the bowls you decided not to tell marc about the little interaction with khonshu and im sure khonshu wouldnt want you too either, especially after somehow seeing him, which is odd in its own way.

as you looked up marc was less irritated and just plain tired, so you guys only had a little small talk and a quick thank you before you were kicked out.

“rude!” you went into your apartment and couldnt help but think about khonshu.

“hope he feels better..”

[fullmela]

Chronic

By Mela:

No reposting without permission!

Pain

I wake to a crack and a pounding

Ears ringing and neck aching

I ask myself as I sink into the mattress

What will today bring?

I go through the motions, four, sometimes three

Taken with whatever liquid I have lying around

Just to give me peace for a few hours.

I spin in my brain wondering

Is this even real?

Or am I just that weak?

Am I so weak that I can hardly move?

Is what the white walled people say true?

Is there really nothing wrong?

I don’t believe that

I can’t believe it

I search and search but can’t find it

I can’t find the answer

I plow into the internet trying to drown it all out

But I’m reminded every time I stand up

That I am broken.

I’m broke like a mirror

Who can’t be glued back together

Because some of the shards are still missing

And I wonder to myself

If they find that shard and glue my pieces together

Will my reflection still look the same?

I’m flickering like a dying candle

Grasping tightly onto what I have left

I engorge myself to feel reprieve

But it only lasts for a moment

I wonder if the white walled people hate me

If they laugh behind closed doors

Because I come to them time and time again

With the same complaints of before.

I feel like a burden to my own body

A burden for wanting answers

A burden for asking for help

So I curl it all up

Not say a word

Because the pain won’t subside

Even if I talk about it

That much I know

But I fear it’s getting worse

The movements shoot like lightning bolts

The cracks become more frequent

The horrible sounds, like a cog getting stuck in a machine reverberate so loudly

Yet im still told there’s nothing wrong

I’m still told I’m perfectly normal

What do I do when I can’t trust the ones who are said to help

Who do I trust?

I cannot trust myself

I cut that ribbon a long time ago

So here I am

Waiting and waiting

Hoping one day

The answer will fall from the sky

And plop into my lap

And I pray that when that day comes

It won’t already be too late.

[raikaren]

My story about Loneliness

I think its time to share my story. People in this story are not on Tumbrl, but I still change their names.

Okay, so first thing is that I´m on autism spectrum. Making friends is really difficult for me. Story begins when I gratuated in 2012 and started to look for a job. I wanted to move out of my hometown, closer to Capital. After few months I got a job offer, wait where is it? Google helped, between two big cities and 3 hour drive to Capital? Alright, lets go! So, I packed my things and my parents on a moving truck and off we went, literally Into the Unknown, I had never even visited that city. First months were easy and fun, getting to know my new hometown and most important, trying to make friends. After a few months I changed to different section at work, closed area. There were few older workers and 5 other workers, my aged, all five were friends with each other, also outside work. Perfect, I try to be friends with them! And oh boy, did I try. Long. I had no idea where elsewhere would I find friends and I was too embarrased to admit to my co-workers that I had no friends. I tried for one year. Second. Third. Still no social life outside of work. Thank god I knew an internet friend 60 km away who also introduced me to Tumbrl (Hi Emppu!), I honestly dont know how I would have survived without her.

On 2016 I decited fuck it, if I dont get friends in here, I try to find a boyfriend. I joined Tinder and thats where I met Johathan. We didnt match, but instead we became friends. YES! FINALLY! My first friend! Later that summer I found two other friends, Jack and Hannah. And then I started to catch feelings for Jonathan. Fuuuuck. I didnt have courage to tell how I felt, because he was too important for me and I didnt want to ruin our friendship.

Then, on 2017, after living in here for 5 years I decited to celebrate a little bit and hosted “Rai 5 years in City”-coffee party. I invited almost all I knew from work (all women) and Hannah. I invited 10 people on total, on monday two people were coming. Two, Hannah and former co-worker. On wendesday they both cancelled. No guests, no party. I havent hosted any party ever since.

And here comes really personal, embarrasing thing about Jonathan. We went to movies a lot and we watched tv series together. But he farted. A lot. Not with sounds though, but every time while watching something a half-way through a slight smell of fart started to come from his side. Every. Time. I was like “ew it stinks- Naah hes handsome, hairy and awesome company, whatever.” But at some point I have to mention about this. Then he suggested we should have a Lord of the Rings Extended Edition Marathon once. Holy hell, yes, lets go, but NOW I have to mention to him about his little problem, but HOW. How can I talk about something this personal? I mentioned about it to him via WhatsApp and he promised we would try to do something about it.

And then came the fateful day in 2020. At this point its important to say, that every time I get embarrased or nervous theres two choices: Either comes “the word vomit” or I completely freeze. So, he comes over, we watch almost last episode of Witcher season one and after watching he asks me about his problem and then it happens. Then I get really nervous and say The Bad Thing, really bad thing. After saying it happened two things. I realized how awful I said and I saw the hurt look in his face and then comes the total opposite. I completely freeze over. I can still joke and talk, but inside im completely stuck, I cant apologize to him at that moment. After he left I was horrified, I need to apologize him, not via Whatsapp, this is way too big thing to just text him like “im sorry”. I need to apologize to him face to face. Three days later I go to my  hometown for summer holiday. Last day of holiday I check on facebook and...

“Jonathan is in a Relationship with Miriam.”

Oh. Okay. Keep it cool Rai, keep it cool. Now we relax and give those two their personal time and space, I ask him to come over later on the summer/fall. I gave them space, I texted Jonathan maybe once a week. I also unfollowed him on Insta. On halloween I finally texted him and asked him to come over, I needed to talk to him about something. Oh hes busy, okay, I wait. Week later I text again. Two weeks later again. For 6 months I tried to get him to come to my place so I could properly apologize that awful thing I said. On march, still no answer. I talked with my mom about it and she thought that maybe Miriam is one of those jealous girlfriends who dont like that their boyfriend has girls as friends. Finally I has to apologize to him via Whatsapp. No response. Nothing. Three months, complete silence. I still dont know what he thinks of stupid thing I said or my apology. Then, summer 2021 I see him tagging Miriam on a post and I think, fuck it, lets see how she looks like..

Our cleaner lady from work. My closet neighbor. The one I see at work every single day, thats her. Holy Shit. I havent talked to her, she still has no idea at work who I am. 

Also on 2021 Jack and Hannah both got work from nearby city 60 km away so they moved there. Great. So its me by myself now.

I know. “Friendships dont fall on distances”. But heres a catch. Hannah is friends with Miriam. Yeah. So that sucks. Im horrified she will  tell Miriam who I am, that would made my workdays hell. Also about Jack. He has tried to hit me up atleast 6 times, I´ve turned him down all on those times. He is not my type of guy and this sounds really rude, but in my eyes hes ugly. Great friend and company, but ugly. 

On september 2021 I give up. I delete Jonathan from facebook friends and stop texting him. Im done. I´ve tried to be in contact, God I´ve tried. I haven´t been in much contact with Jack or Hannah either, Jack just broke up with her girlfriend and Im sure he´ll try to ask me on a date once again. About Hannah, we still send whatsapp messages and so on. 

So yeah. I got friends for 4 years and I lost them. Well, “lost”, Im still in contact with Hannah but still. But in here I still have no-one. “Why dont I move away” because I love my job and this town. I frigging love it. But about this loneliness part, I dont know what to do. im out of energy, im empty. I have no strenght to find new friends and I have very little energy to keep on touch with Jack and Hannah. 

[lavenderwhore444]

God Im pretty sure I’m going to hell ANYWAYS ok so this is a hybrid cat shigaraki, u end up adopting shigaraki from a very abuses owner so our little kitten is traumatized and terrified of everything, it took u a bit of time until he was comfortable with u , he doesn’t trust u in the beginning and thinks ur gonna do the same as his previous owner did but ur different u were so patient, sweet and soft not to mention he LOVED getting head pets from u ( he would never admit it tho) once shigaraki found out that he was in love with u he was stuck to ur hip ( he was super clingy) shigaraki’s heat was closer then expected, shigaraki didn’t want to ruin his chances with u but he couldn’t stop himself from humping everything so he hid in his room , you absolutely loved shigaraki since the day u saw him u knew u wanted him, when u first met him he scratched and hissed at u he was terrified, it honestly made u sick knowing the person who did this to him is still alive, u both got much closer he even started cuddling with u!!!! U soon fell in love with shiggy but u didn’t want to ruin what u guys have so u kept it to ur self , u noticed shigaraki was acting weird and hid in his room for two days at first u thought u might give him some space but u started getting worried u wanted to check on him before u came in u heard some little moans and whines, it just hit u that ur little kitten has there heat, u decided to help out 👀

Kinks pet-play of course dom reader and sub shigaraki maybe some pegging that’s all I can think of so feel free to add any kinks. I was listening to hello kitty by Avril Lavigne there was part where she says “ come come kitty kitty your so pretty pretty” that was inspired me to write this lmaooo 

-🤡

HELLO KITTY

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q.

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Samesies, but it's ok, we’ll go to hell together 😫

Now you might be wondering, Claire, why did this take you literal MONTHS? Well, I wanted to perfect it. I love this concept so much that I just HAD to spend so much time on it to make it perfect. And let me just say, it's pretty good 😏

Warnings: vaginal sex, overstimulation (male), anal sex with strapon, heat, pillow humping, marking mating, whatever you want to call it.

I've decided I'm obsessed with making cat shiggy meow ☺️

‘Where the fuck am I?’ Is shigaraki’s first thought of the day.

He’s never been on a bed this soft or a house this warm. Where is he? The blankets are all fuzz. The bed is littered with stuffed animals and pillows, and sweet-smelling candles, are burning somewhere. Is he being sacrificed?

“Hey, you're awake, ” a soft voice says, coming from the end of the bed.

He recoils in fear but, upon second glance, he sees that you aren't who he thinks you are. A girl replaces the scary form of his “master.” he looks you up and down. He has to admit you are quite pretty. The sight of someone other than the large man who used to own him excites him. Maybe this is a fresh start? But perhaps you're just like him...

“Get the fuck away from me, ” he snaps, scrambling into a corner.

“It's okay, sweetie, ” you say, “I'm not gonna hurt you, ”

“Everyone says that, meow ” Shigaraki retorts, “get the fuck away before I scratch your eyes out, ”

You bite your lip, “ok, Tomura, I'm gonna sit with you for a while, though. I'll be right across the room if you need anything, ”

“I don't need shit from you, ” he says, hissing making a show of his claws.

You laughed a little, more than a bit sad at his fear, “alright, but I’ll still be here, ”

He sits in silence for a moment, surveying his surroundings. He notices fresh clothes in the dresser, and there are some game consoles set up for him. How do you know he likes video games? Fucking creep. There aren't really any escape routes but escaping is complicated when he doesn't know where he is.

“Where am I meow?” he asks, sounding meeker than intended.

“I guess I kind of adopted you, ” you explain, “we’re at our house, ”

“Why did you do that?” he asks, the edge coming back to his voice.

“You just seemed so sweet, and the man who owned you was so mean. I couldn't just leave you there; he was hurting you, ” you say, frowning a little at the thought of Tomura getting hurt.

"Why do you care?" he snaps.

You sit closer to him, making him tense.

"I already told you, I think you're sweet Tomura," you repeat, "I just can't explain it. I'd really like it if we could become friends,"

'Or maybe more,' you think to yourself.

You can't deny he is very attractive.

"How do I know you're not lying meow?" He asks.

"I think you'll just have to trust me. Do you want to play some games with me?" you ask.

"Fine," he says, "only cause I'm bored,"

You grin, "awesome. What should we play?"

Shigaraki stands up and walks over to the games, tail swaying.

"This," he says, holding up animal crossing, "you probably like it cause it's dumb. What's your name anyway?" he asks.

"I'm y/n," you answer.

"I guess your names not awful, meow”, he mutters.

Truthfully, he already thinks you're beautiful, and you seem so kind. Shigaraki sits unusually close to you on the bed as the two of you play. You play late into the night; he makes a good bit of progress. Eventually, you feel his head rest on your shoulder, and he falls asleep on you.

You ease Tomura into your lap.

"There we go," you whisper, "you're safe now,"

Little did you know he's wide awake, smiling to himself and nuzzling his head closer to you. The sound of soft purring fills your ears as he drifts off into the most peaceful sleep.

He's pretty disgruntled when he wakes up alone. Where have you gone? Shigaraki doesn't have to wonder for long when you come back with a plate of food.

"Hey, are you hungry?" you ask, setting a plate of food on the table next to him.

He nods, digging in right away. You watch him eat like a man starved. Honestly, he might have been. He puts the plate down and moves closer to you. He's beginning to trust you more and more.

"Tomura, ” you say, “I have to put a collar on you now, just in case you get lost, ok?” you push some hair out of his face, “id be so sad if I lost you, ”

“fine, meow” he mumbles.

Truthfully his heart is melting at the thought. That you aren’t embarrassed by him, that you want to keep him safe and close to you. When you click the collar into place he hugs you, tugging at your shirt.

It’s shocking how fast he’s becoming comfortable with you but definitely pleasing. The next few days are calm, spent lounging around the house. He‘s getting so trusting with you. He occasionally pushes his head beneath your hand so you scratch his head. He always denies it, though; he has a tough-guy exterior to keep up.

However, something changes within him. He feels a strange warmth, not a necessarily bad feeling, around you. Tomura knows what cats were supposed to do. They are supposed to cuddle and play with their owners. Should he be doing that? Should he act like a “normal cat”? He concludes that you don’t want that at all. The lack of cat toys, a cat tree, and you allowing him to eat at the table solidify that.

However, he does want to cuddle. He tries to cuddle like all the time. But you have work, and you get tired, and you run errands, and he becomes sad. Tomura knows you have a life outside of him, but you really shouldn't. He should be your only priority. When Christmas break finally rolls around, and you start spending more time at the house, he's elated.

He has internet access, of course. He needs it to play his video games! But it was restricted. You don’t want your little kitty to see things he’s not supposed to. He starts to like watching movies too. At first, they‘re action movies with lots of blood and fighting, which you don’t necessarily agree with, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He slowly gets bored with them and stumbles across a romance movie.

Tomura becomes engrossed in them. He loves watching the couple fall in love and be happy. One movie, in particular, weirds him out. It looks like they were taking off their clothes. They start kissing and making strange noises. He doesn't like it one bit, it makes his cheeks feel hot, and his cock gets semi-hard. He turns it off immediately.

It doesn’t take long for him to forget about it and keep watching different ones. Soon he finds some similarities between him and the main character. The way they feels around their love interest is the same way he feels around you. Is he in love with you?! It seems so and you have just recently come to the same conclusion as him.

Soon he’s all over you, following you everywhere. Tomura pushes open your door every night and snuggling up to you. He’ll purr and nuzzle into you, happy sighs escaping him. Whenever he “accidentally” wakes you up, you never get mad at him. You just cuddle him and talk all night, giggling and talking until you both fall asleep.

Oddly enough, you‘re oblivious to his feelings for you. Whenever he cuddles with you, you hold back the urge to kiss him on the lips. You don’t want him to feel awkward around you. Soon he starts acting strange without any change in behavior from you. He stops coming in your room at night and wont come out of his room.

You don't want to be overbearing, so you give him space...for a while. Meanwhile, in his room, Tomura is lying naked on the bed, panting and sweating. He feels strange, just like he did when he was watching that movie. He doesn't understand what‘s happening to his body but when he humps his pillow it feels like an itch is being scratched. The first time he cums he‘s terrified and lets out a scared “meow!”

But it feels so good. The feeling doesn't go away, so he decides the only solution is to keep humping. Soon he‘s limp but still grinding his hips on the poor pillow. He takes deep whiffs of your sweater, huffing it like a drug. His tongue is lolling out of his mouth and his eyes are rolling back in his head. He‘s starting to hurt down there but he just can't stop cumming.

Oh, why can't he reach the phone you left in his room? Why is his voice too hoarse to call out to you? Tomura is scared. He can’t eat or sleep. Sweat has soaked into the mattress and his poor little cock is starting to hurt. You‘re getting worried too so you wander up to his room and callout to him, pressing your ear to the door.

“y/n meow,” he calls out hoarsely, almost a whisper.

All you can hear are desperate whines and moans. Is Tomura...in heat? Oh, your poor kitty is probably in so much pain! You have to help him, so you open the door and see him. It is a pathetic (yet erotic) sight. He looks so desperate. He‘s crying and looks so scared. Tomura just whines and reaches out to you even though he‘s far away.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you whisper.

You walk over to him and scoop him up, sitting him on your lap. He continues to try and hump you, but you can tell how much his poor dick hurts. You hug him tightly, feeling guilty that you took so long to check on him.

Tomura tugs at your shirt, he can't figure out why he wants you to take off your clothes, but he does. You oblige, ready to do anything your sweet kitten wants. When he sees your top half naked, he feels his cock beg for you. He starts to tug aimlessly at your pants, and you take them off, once again, all too eager to please.

He doesn't have any sexual knowledge, but he has instincts, pure carnal instincts that tell him just how to breed his mate’s tight pussy. Tomura grabs your hips, his claws accidentally puncturing the skin. You yelp as he pulls you on top of him. When he slams you down onto his long fat cock he doesn't get the rush of pleasure he expected.

He's hit with an extreme amount of pain and lets out a panicked meow. You lift yourself off of him quickly, and Tomura misses the feeling of your cunt even though it caused him so much pain. He paws at you, but you keep him from shoving himself in you again.

“Tomura,” you say softly, “you need to calm down; you're hurting yourself,”

“Meow! need!” he cries.

“So needy,” you mutter, “youre just gonna hurt yourself,”

“Don’t care! Need!” he begs.

“Hold on,” you say, getting up and ignoring the insistent pawing at your shirt as he whines.

You rifle through your drawers until you find the dildo you got and the free strap-on attachment that came with it. You smile and gran some lube; this is exactly what you need for your pretty kitty. He watches with curious eyes and blown out pupils due to pure lust.

“Let's give your poor cock a break,” you say.

He nods, but where are you going to put that? You climb onto the bed with him, and he hugs you, sucking on your tit. He feels so at peace. Your boobs are so soft and pretty. He wants to stay like this forever. But when Tomura feels those nimble fingers of yours start to trail across his lower back just above his ass he shivers.

He leaves open-mouthed kisses across your chest; he lets them get sloppy and wet as you rub his back.

“Need,” he whispers again, eyes half-lidded.

You tilt Tomura’s head up and give him his first proper kiss. He's seen this in movies and knows you're supposed to say “I love you” after...right? He doesn't know the full meaning of the three little words he's about to say.

“I love you y/n,” he says when you pull away.

“I love you too,” you say, taken aback just a bit.

He gives you a love-drunk smile and tries to rut against your thigh but yelps again, remembering how sensitive he is.

“C’mere pretty kitty,” you coo, “lay on your back for me,”

He nods and lays on his back, painfully aware of how exposed he is to your careful, calculating eyes. He starts purring when you muzzle your head into his neck. Are you going to mark him?! Do you really want him to be your mate?! Oh, he hopes so! He smiles, and his breathing picks up, but his ears flatten on his head when you pull away.

“No mate meow?” Tomura asks, face falling.

For the first time all day, he feels his cock soften sadly. He doesn't understand the look of confusion on your face and tears up a bit.

“I'm not sure I understand,” you say, brushing some hair out of his face and feeling guilty when you see his teary eyes.

“I want you to mark me,” he says, bottom lip quivering, “please meow?”

Your eyes widen, “oh,” maybe you did learn something useful in school, “of course honey,”

You lean down again, unsure of how hard to bite his neck. You can tell exactly where you're supposed to bite. A strong musky smell radiates from the side of his neck and you decide to sink your teeth in until you break skin. When you do, he sighs happily at the feeling of your admittedly dull teeth (in comparison to his) in his neck.

“Mate,” he purrs.

You pull away when you can tell he's satisfied. He pulls you in for another kiss, tasting some of his blood on your tongue. He doesn't notice your fingers traveling to the bottle of lube on the bed and pumping some onto your fingers. He does notice when you start to rub around where you're not supposed to.

“Hey! What are you doing, meow?!” Tomura says, squirming at the strange new sensation.

When you find your mark and circle his asshole, any objections he just made the in the past. When he feels your finger begin to sink into his tight hole, he sighs happily. He isn't supposed to be the one getting penetrated, but he can't help how much he loves the feeling of your finger wiggling around inside of him.

When you add in another finger, he meows happily, grinding on your fingers. All this pleasure without the pain, what has he done to deserve this? To deserve you? Tomura’s back arches as he moves his hips; he can feel himself coming to a different kind of climax, but you pull away right when he's on the edge.

He looks up at you with pleading eyes and trembling thighs. He sees you putting that strange liquid on something much larger and gulps. He feels his asshole gape around nothing, waiting for something to fill it up.

“Is that going inside me, meow?” he asks nervously.

“It won't hurt,” you say, cupping his face, “i promise,”

Tomura gulps but nods. He trusts you. When the head of the dildo pushes into him he's tense and panting already.

“You have to relax,” you whisper in his ear, “be a good boy and relax,”

He tries, letting the nervous knot in his stomach untangle. His breathing slows as you push in more of the dildo. It starts to feel good, having you in some of him, and it's even better when the head of the dildo hits a spot that makes him mewl. He wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you down to him, causing you to poke his prostate again.

He moans and buries his face in your neck, purring loudly. You start to move your hips at an agonizingly slow pace. You worm your arms under him and hold him close while you help him adjust. He's planting and mewling happily.

“Love you,” he moans, “I love you so much y/n,”

“I love you too, Tomura,” you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear.

“It's so good,” he groans, “you're amazing meow. The perfect mate,”

“Yeah?” you say, too focused to respond.

He nods, “the best ever,”

You keep thrusting, speeding up just a bit. That makes Tomura yelp happily. His tongue lolls out as he smiles. There's not one thought behind those beautiful red eyes—just pure pleasure. It's taking over his entire body and he can't help but meow happily.

He likes to think of himself as more refined than most hybrids. More human, but all he can think of now is how wonderful being your little kitty is.

“I'm gonna cum,” he whimpers, “gonna cum, meow”

His dick quivers, and his asshole clenches as cum spurts out of him, but it's still not enough. To satiate his desires, he needs to be inside of you when he cums. When you pull out of him slowly and remove the strap on, he bites the bullet and plunges into you, ignoring the pain that makes him sob and absolutely hammers into you.

You're helpless underneath him as he has his way with you. You can't deny how good he feels inside of you. Tomura hates how long he's lasting. He needs to get this over with, although having you cum on his cock would be pretty nice. When he feels you worm your fingers down to your clit he starts to be thankful he hasn't lost his mind and cum yet.

That look on your face makes him so happy. He wants you to be happy. He wants you to cum, so he holds out until you milk his cock with your cunt. And when he lets go it's heavenly. The itch has been scratched, and he collapses on top of you, purring as his tail twitches. You scratch behind his ears to help him get some much-needed rest.

It works nearly immediately, and your sweet kitty is asleep in mere minutes. You love Tomura more than you can put into words, and he loves his pretty little mate. His adorable little y/n.

[wri0thesley]

omg wait no hold on I just requested overhaul but then I remembered your overhaul thirst post about him pulling a "curing hysteria~" as an excuse and thought I'd request something along that vibe (no oun intended). I think that'd fall under orgasm control, overstim? (hope this is okay!)

hysteria antidote - overhaul x fem!reader (4k)

seeing nothing but the same four walls every day of your life is playing havoc with your brain. overhaul thinks perhaps you're suffering from hysteria. he has the perfect cure for that.

cw: not sfw/minors dni. dark content!!! dubious/non-consent. captive reader. talk of death, blood, etc. medical kink, gloves, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm control. misogyny. mentions of pregnancy/breeding. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: idk the internet said the 28th of may was his birthday so consider this both a birthday fic and a fic to celebrate 6k followers, sorry that i am gross and horrible but tbh im having a great time <3]

You really don’t think it’s unreasonable for you to be going out of your mind.

Since the Boss was taken ill, and Kai – Overhaul, you remind yourself, though he’s always just a little less sharp with you when you trip over the new name than he is with anyone else – took over leadership of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ve been pretty much stuck indoors.

Considering that you’re pretty sure he only has fond feelings towards maybe three people in the entire world, including you, you guess you ought to feel special about it – but all it actually does is make you feel like a trapped bird, caged and restless. It doesn’t help that all of the other members of the organisation have started being weird around you; people who you’ve known most of your adult life, people who you’ve worked beside and killed beside and done other horrible things beside (for the good of the organisation, of course)--

But now, they look at you like you might break at any moment. They treat you like an invalid. Their brows crease when they see you out and about, quietly murmuring; “Shouldn’t you still be in your room?”, avoiding touching you at all costs. There’s a kind of fear in their eyes, that they’re going to be told off for even speaking to you, that they’re afraid of being caught close to you.

And you know exactly who’s to blame for that.

You’d tried to speak to him about it, once; you’d thought that perhaps he might be amenable to your desire to do something to help the Shie Hassaikai. He’s always wanted to restore them to their former glory, after all! But after you’d let out your little impassioned tirade, his eyebrows had creased over the bird-mask.

“You don’t sound well,” he’d said to you. “Go back to your room. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

You had missed, at the time, that he hadn’t said ‘we’ll talk about it later’. He’d just said ‘I’ll’. When he had come, that is how it had been; the reassurance that he was keeping you safe. That he didn’t want you to be tainted. That he was keeping you well.

Your quirklessness has never been an issue before, but it certainly hasn’t been a boon. Still, for Kai--

“It’s disgusting,” he’d said, agitated by the discussion. You’d stared at his hands, thinking about the destructive power he himself wielded. “Quirks are a curse, and you not having one is just proof you’re not infected.” He’d looked up, golden eyes piercing directly into yours. “I’m going to keep you perfect.”

Overhaul is not a doctor, for all of his talk about illness and disease and plague. You think he could have used his quirk for something meaningful, once; but you also know that his burning curiousity, his disgust of anyone who deems tainted, his utter lack of morality . . . those are all things that would not have been welcomed in the medical profession. So instead, he deals in needles and pills and altering drugs in the underground labyrinth of the compound.

Sterile rooms, with examination tables and scalpels and impersonal, silver-grey equipment. Pill boxes that rattle when he passes them to you and tells you to take three of those a day, one of those, that one has to be taken to with food--

The idea that you won’t take them doesn’t enter his head, and though he has never . . . overhauled someone in front of you, you have walked past other members of the organisation mopping and disinfecting blood and gristle from sterile flooring.

It is better to go along with him, so you take the supplements and the pills and submit to the way he grabs your chin in gloved hands on the doctor’s chair, tipping your face up to shine a light into your eyes and watch your pupils dilate. But inside, you are screaming.

You’re not made to be locked in one room, occasionally allowed out to pace the hallways of the upstairs – never the underground ones, not any more – with restless footsteps and your muscles fizzing with desire to taste fresh air. You’re not made to stare at the same walls and breathe the purified air and think about how empty the compound is, now that Overhaul is in charge of everything--

(Too many knick-knacks attract dust. Pollen allergies act up, if there are too many plants, and he hates hearing people sneeze. Furniture should be easily movable and barren, to assist in the twice-daily cleanings of every room that people walk through.)

But it’s getting too much for you. Suffocating. You feel like you’re choking on air all of the time; you take the pills, because the thought of what he could do to you is terrifying, but sometimes you wonder if perhaps it would be better if you didn’t.

You’d woken up that morning to the sound of rain hitting the high windows in your bedroom, and you had longed to go outside in your thin nightwear and spread your arms and taste the air, smell the rain, feel it hit your body in fat droplets. Your entire being had ached. You’d tried to distract yourself, with what little there was in the barren prison cell that you called a bedroom – but when the door opened at four thirty exactly, and Kai had stood there with his face as impassive as ever, you had not been able to stop yourself.

Hand fastening around his upper arm (you shouldn’t touch him, you know you shouldn’t, but the same four walls are getting to you), you’d begged him;

“I want to go outside.”

If anyone else had touched him like that, they would already be splattered against the walls and floor. But all you get is a furrow of his eyebrows, careful fingers (gloved, of course; the latex against your skin always makes you shudder) pinching at your hand to get you to let go of him.

“No,” he says. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t care,” you’re petulant, you know, frustration bubbling up in every cell of your body. “If I stay in here for one more day, I will tear myself into pieces.”

“You’re being over-dramatic.”

“Kai—”

“Don’t call me that.” His rebuttal is sharp. “You know I’m doing this for your own good.”

Your face twists into something ugly. Overhaul hates it when you do that; hates the way your brow wrinkles, your mouth moves, your normally lovely face (one of very few he can bear to look at unmasked and not feel as though he is going to get sick from merely breathing the same air of you) marred.

“You’re not,” you hiss at him. “You’re doing this because you’re fucked up! Because you’ve got some weird fucking ideas about what’s clean and what’s unclean, because you’re on a power trip, because you don’t care about other people--” Your voice is pitching and modulating, all of the things that you usually try and keep balled up inside of you spilling out that the floodgates of how unhappy you are is open.

You’re breathing heavy as Overhaul, clearly irked by what you’re saying, tugs at the wrist of one of his surgical gloves. If he’s going to kill you, good – at least it will be better than this, you think, your breath coming in short sharp pants after the outburst.

He lets go. His hands fall to his sides. His golden gaze on you is very level.

“You’re hysterical,” he tells you. An exasperated laugh falls from your mouth.

“Yeah?” You ask him. “Of course I am. Do you know the last time I breathed fresh air?”

“Seven months, two weeks, three days.” He says it without blinking. Your shoulders tense. Has it really been that long? “You haven’t been ill once in that time. The world out there is filthy.”

“It’s normal to get sick,” you try and tell him, but Overhaul is moving forward; past the doorway, and into your room. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound of a lock ominous. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with Kai in your bedroom.

In the medical examination rooms, sure. In his office. In common areas, back when he was just the boss’ troubled protege and not the boss himself--

His eyebrows twitch in disgust as he notices the dust on your bookshelves. You’d stopped letting any of the cleaners in here a month ago; you’d refused to clean in the mean time, taking whatever small victory against your captor that you could.

“You’ll give yourself respiratory issues,” he says.

“Good,” your voice is cold, but you realise you’ve backed away from him. For all of your attempts to stand up to him, you’re terrified. Everyone knows what he can do. “Better dead than here--”

Gloved fingers around your wrist, so tight you can practically feel them bruising.

“You don’t mean that,” he says. His voice has gotten softer, cajoling. You’re trembling in his grip. “I told you. You’re hysterical.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” you say, but your words feel like you’re spitting them out around a mouthful of gravel. “I—I’m calm--”

Your knees knock against your bed, but Overhaul is still clinging to you; still too close. Your heart is beating so fast that you can hear it pounding in your ears.

“You’re not. You’re hysterical.” He repeats it, calmly. The hand not on your wrist reaches up and cups your face, a gloved thumb stroking across your cheek as if you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. The scent of the latex is overwhelming. “But that’s alright. It’s not your fault.” He clicks his tongue behind the mask. “It’s mine. All of this checking for the physical sickness, and I didn’t think about checking your head.”

You fall onto the bed as his knees knock against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s just a plain, single bed; rumpled sheets, because you’d fought against any attempt for someone to come in and collect your laundry, too. Overhaul looks silly in your room, you think dimly; like a huge black crow in the nest of a small, frightened wren.

“If you fight,” he tells you, “I’ll disassemble you. I’d rather not. I don’t want to taint you by using my quirk. But . . .” He’s sinking to his knees in front of you, those same methodical hands pushing up the skirt of your dress. “If I did, I’d get a blank mind to work with. I won’t hesitate. But I’d still rather simply fix you without having to break you into pieces first.”

You know him too well to think that he’s bluffing.

After all of the vitriol you’ve spat at him, he’s unwilling to kill you. Would it be worse, to be mindless and brainless under Kai’s quirk? You’ve heard some of his failed experiments before; babbling, drooling, broken things. He’s killed them sometimes just to put them out of their misery.

What if he did that, and your mind remained perfectly capable – just utterly unable to communicate with your body? A prisoner in your own skin. Worse than even now. You swallow back the lump of fear.

“H-how are you going to do that?” You ask him.

You start at how cold the gloved fingers are on your bare thighs, as Overhaul pushes them apart. Cold fear prickles down your spine. You’re too scared to fight back, but everything he’s doing is making you want to run.

“Did you know,” Overhaul says, those same hands sliding higher, to tug at the waistband of your underwear. “In the past, there were rumours that doctors would cure hysteria by genital massage and stimulation?”

His words are very clinical, but there’s a thickness to his voice behind the mask that fills you with revulsion.

“It might be nonsense, of course,” he says. Your underwear is being tugged down, pulled around your thighs, your knees, your ankle. “They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth--”

“Kai—” Your voice is a soft whine, fear-filled. This time, he doesn’t snap at you for calling him by the name he’s left behind. He simply says;

“Spread your legs.”

You don’t want to. But you want to risk what he’s threatening you with even less, so you tearfully open them as wide as you can go. He shifts forward, and the tip of the beaked mask digs into your inner thigh as he studies you like you’re nothing more than a diagram, not a living, breathing person--

“Next time I’ll have lubricant ready,” he says, under his breath, and your heart seizes up at the implication that whatever he’s going to do to you, there’ll be a next time.

You start at the sensation of gloved fingers gently parting the lips of your sex, Overhaul’s golden eyes drinking in the sight of you spread open and bare. You’re shaking, but for some reason the way he’s looking at you – the utter concentration in his eyes – makes a curl of heat flare deep inside of you.

“Don’t,” you breathe, trying not to squirm. “Please--”

“I don’t want to have to,” he says. His tone remains calm, unbothered. “I’m doing it for your own good, you know that. Just helping you along.” One finger slides through the slit; the sensation of the gloves against your most intimate, heated parts makes the muscles in your thighs clench. It’s . . . not exactly unpleasant, but neither it is pleasant. “Do you think I’m getting any pleasure out of this?”

He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. You know this; everyone knows this. If this particular thought was so unpleasant to him, you don’t doubt he’d have found somebody else to do it (the thought of one of the other members of the Shie Hassaikai doing this to you fills you with even more revulsion than the idea of Overhaul himself). But you can’t say that out loud. Not after what he’s threatened. So you press your lips together and shake your head, gasp dying in your throat as one of Overhaul’s latex-covered fingers prods gently around your opening.

“You’re getting wet,” he tells you, as if you can’t feel the shameful slick beginning to leak from you. “That will make this easier. Good.”

You hate that the praise makes another jolt of arousal go through you. You don’t want to like the feeling of his gloves, rubbing at your heated cunt; the sensation of a fingertip circling around your entrance, brushing the bud of your clit and making you want to clamp your thighs around his hand.

He sinks the tip of one finger inside of you and you jerk, your hips out of your control as you try and sink away from the intrusion. Overhaul clicks his tongue again in annoyance at you. The hand holding the lips of your cunt open moves, to land on your hip and pin you between the bed and the wall so you can’t squirm again.

“I’ll sedate you next time, if I have to,” he says. “I’m not getting anything out of this. I’d prefer not to have to do it at all--”

He’s lying. You know he is. But you can’t call him out for it, so you press your trembling lips together and try to stop tears spilling out from your lash line as the finger inside of you sinks further and further inside, past his first knuckle, right down to the base.

He crooks it inside of you and your hands curl into the bedsheets, nails digging into your palms through cotton. His touch is curious, exploratory; has he ever actually done this to anybody before? He slides over a rough patch inside of you with the latex-tipped finger and a moan escapes your mouth against your will, your head falling back against the wall. Narrowed golden eyes look up at you as he repeats the motion; taking in the gloss of your lips, the widening of your eyes, the way your shoulders are shaking up and down.

You can feel yourself pumping more slick out; helping the glide of his finger inside of you, as he begins to carefully thrust it in and out of you. His touch is made all the more impersonal by the mask obscuring everything but his eyes and eyebrows; you can’t even hear him breathing.

Your cunt is fluttering around him, pleasure swarming you in breathless waves as he withdraws his finger entirely. He lifts the glove to his eyeline, looking only vaguely interested in how the white latex glimmers with your arousal.

“I’m going to use two now,” he tells you – and that is all the warning you get before two fingers beside one another are opening you up, scissoring your tight channel apart with an ache that you feel up to your hips. You bite back the whimper, but you’re unable to stop the choked breaths that are falling from you as he fucks you with them in steady, constant thrusts.

A covered thumb brushes your clit; swollen, now. Sensitive. Standing to attention. Your hips attempt to jerk in his hold once more, a strangled noise that’s neither pleasured nor pain falling from your throat. You’ve touched yourself, of course you have – even recently, just to try and assuage some of the boredom that fills your exactly-the-same days – but Overhaul’s fingers and thumbs and touch on you are so entirely different from that.

He continues his assault over your clit, those same eyes watching you with that same detached, clinical disposition that he’s had most of the time. There’s a cast to them that suggests there’s something more, but whatever emotion – if, indeed, he’s still capable of that – he’s feeling about having you at his mercy in this way has been pushed to the back of his mind as his thumb rolls and pinches at the bud.

Your body goes all-over heat, Overhaul’s fingers still pumping in and out of you, the slick noises of your shaming wetness echoing around the prison of the four walls you’ve spent seven months in. You’re teetering on the edge of something, hot and needy and wanting – and as Overhaul’s thumb sweeps over your poor aching clit again, you tilt your hips forward for as much stimulation as you can--

And he pulls his fingers out of you.

The heat fades into nothingness as you let out a noise of disappointment. Overhaul’s head tilts to one side, considering.

“What do you want?” He asks you. “Say it.”

No. You don’t ‘want’. He’s wrong. You keep your mouth pressed tight now that the damning noise has fallen out of it; you have managed to not let the tears trembling in your eyes spill forth. Your gaze meets his, defiant and tired and afraid all at once.

“Alright,” he sighs. “If you’re going to carry on being difficult.”

He does it again; his fingers plunging into you, scissoring you apart, rubbing against your folds with a practised agility now that he’s done it for the first time. He has always been a fast learner; always been observant. His thumb is back on your clit with ceaseless assault, and all over again you feel heat begin to build up; tension that crawls into every crevice of your being and worms its way deep inside you despite how badly you don’t want this.

The hand holding your hip loosens somewhat, allowing you to messily thrust your hips into Overhaul’s stimulation. You’re torn; you shouldn’t want to hump against the gloved fingers stimulating you, you should be wriggling and squirming away. But it feels so good; even with the skin-tight covering of rubbery latex, Overhaul’s fingers seem to find every one of your weak points and exploit them.

There it is again, building up on you; a ball of tension in your stomach being gradually wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips flex against his hand, your fingers clenching and unclenching on the bedsheet--

He denies you the peak of your orgasm for the second time.

And a third.

And a fourth.

“Kai--!” You’re too far gone to even think, after the pleasure has been pulled from you so cruelly, over and over again. The tears spill over your cheeks., rolling down in fat, shaming droplets. Overhaul’s eyes narrow.

“No,” he says, vehement – more emotion in his voice than you’ve heard all day. “You know what to call me.”

You know what he wants you to call him. You know that he wants to leave his old name behind, start again, be someone who can drag the Shie Hassaikai out of the shadows and into light and power once again – and he thinks that the name will help. You gurgle out a sobbing, strangled noise;

“O-Overhaul, please--”

Three fingers are plunged as deep inside of you as they can go, crooked to rub against your sweet spot; as Overhaul murmurs, detached but soft;

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

They thrust into you, his thumb rubbing your clit with firm, certain strokes – and this time, as the orgasm rushes up on you all at once, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you with his fingers through it, his thumb not ceasing the circling. Pleasure washes over you, finally, in great waves and crests. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, soaking him in your wetness (his eyebrows furrow again, at how close your fluid comes to spilling over his bared wrist; but you are too relieved to think about anything other than finally getting what you need).

Your hips flex, gasps falling from your mouth with every thrust of them – and you expect Overhaul to pull his fingers out of you. To stop touching you. Perhaps to strip off his gloves and put on a new pair – you know he always carries spares – and sneer at you as he walks out of the room.

But Overhaul’s fingers do not move from inside of you. The fierce rhythm of his fucking and petting and rubbing does not stop, even as the final aftershocks of your orgasm clench loosely about him and his constant stimulation becomes more of an annoyance than anything else on heated, sensitive skin.

You squirm, trying to push your thighs together to get him to stop touching you – but the hand not fucking you forces your thighs to stay parted with the curl of fingers into supple flesh, leaving you helpless to do anything but let him carry on touching you. Carry on fucking you.

A short, sharp shock of an orgasm rips through you as he swirls his thumb over your clit just so, and you realise that you’re drooling down yourself as well as panting; helpless and sloppy, utterly unable to do anything except lie there and take it until Overhaul decides he’s had enough of touching you.

You come, what? Twice more? Thrice? Until the pulsing of your channel is painful, your skin feeling red raw, your whimpers into the ceiling dry and broken. Only then does he pull his fingers out of you with a lewd pop.

A gush of your fluid that his fingers were stoppering soaks your bedsheets, and you watch, dazed, as Overhaul stands up. He looks down at you for just one moment, that stretches unbearably long in the heat-and-sex soaked atmosphere of the room.

He strips his gloves off of his hands, eyebrows twitching in disgust as he leaves the crumpled latex on your bedside table. He’s sliding on another pair as he speaks;

“Feel better?”

No. No, you don’t. You feel worse. You feel disgusted and violated and aching, your body over-stimulated and exhausted, sweat and drool and bodily fluids clinging to your skin. But if you tell Overhaul that--

“Yes,” you say, voice very soft and small and weak. You cannot see his mouth, but you see the way his eyes flash happily, the overall sensation of him smiling.

Why does Overhaul’s smile make you so scared, when Kai’s smile used to just make you feel warm?

“We’ll need to do it a few more times,” he tells you, as your blood runs to ice in your veins. “Such maladies aren’t cured in a day, after all. But . . .” He turns, rearranging himself carefully, his mask readjusted. You can’t see him as he speaks the next words. “I’d like to try some of the other suggested remedies, too.”

You think of his earlier words.

‘They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth.’

You’re never going to escape, are you? You’re going to be trapped in this compound until the day you die, and Overhaul is going to think that he’s keeping you safe--

“Take a shower,” he says to you, as he opens the door. It is not a suggestion. “And stop not letting the maids come in here to clean. I’m not having you get sick.”

You think he might be the sick one.

[wastelandcth]

best years - cth

summary: dovey and calum go through a rough patch, leading dovey to believe she gave up her best years. 

author’s notes: hello everyone...this is angst and part one out of two. good luck! inspired by this tik tok. 

warnings: angst and sad overall

masterlist || request || more doves

I’ve got a million reasons to hesitate and baby a million more are added every day.

Dovey had always been there for Calum. She'd been there through the drama that came along with being in a well-known band. She'd been there through the highs and the lows, through the rumors and controversies. Dovey had stuck through everything and every day it seemed like more and more came into light, like the man she had fallen in love with became a stranger. Suddenly, Calum was no longer her best friend who would tell her everything, he was the stranger in her bed who hardly was around. 

The fight hadn't been intentional. Most of the time, the Doves would talk anything out. Whether it be a disagreement over something small like where the pillows on the couch should go or whether it was something big like how their lives would be affected by the latest album release. This time, it was different, stubbornness and yells meant that Dovey found herself in a lonely bed while Calum locked himself away in his office. And with only a few days left before Calum left for tour with no plan on when or if Dovey would join him, the Doves went to sleep in different beds. 

It had started when he'd left for tour. Usually, Dovey would drive him to the airport and stay until the band's flight was called and she had given him one last hug until they were reunited again. This time, Calum had suggested saying their goodbyes at home that it would be the best since there would probably be a lot of fans at the airport. Although she wasn't too please with their break from tradition, Dovey found herself hugging him on their doorstep, whispering a soft I love you before the man she loved stepped into the car that had been waiting. 

The next time Dovey realized something had changed, she had been on facetime with him. He'd seemed distant, his eyes drifting off from the screen and his interest in whatever conversation he and Dovey were having being torn away at some joke Michael had told. Dovey thought he might've noticed something was off when she had hung up on the call, hoping he'd call her back and she could claim it was an accident, but her phone never rang again that night. It felt like the harder Dovey tried to connect with the man who was an ocean away living his dream, the more she realized exactly how disconnected they were becoming. 

I spent so much of me on you I forgot who I became.

The longer that Calum was away on tour, the more Dovey found herself. Days that would've been spent alone in a foreign city while Calum was in a radio gig were now spent with friends in the city she'd learn to call home. Mornings, where she’d usually wake up in a cramped bunk next to a grumpy Calum, were spent taking Duke on a hike and clearing her head. 

One day after she'd gotten home from the grocery store, a pang in her heart threatened to ruin the good mood she'd been in when she saw Luke's partner post a picture of them all in front of some monument miles away. But with a shake of the head and a double-tap on the screen, Dovey put some music on and danced the tears away. It wasn't until later that night when her mind was awake that she clicked on the picture again, finding those brown eyes she'd fallen in love with two years ago staring back at her. She could tell something was different, that the smile he had on didn't reach his eyes and his eyes didn't shine like they normally did when he was having the time of his life. But things were different now, and Dovey wasn't going to let her life revolve around him as she did before. If he wanted to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him, he would've called. He had her number and for some unknown reason, had decided to not use it. 

Finally found a reason to walk away. 

The final straw had been a picture. Dovey had been used to seeing fan meetings on her social media, smiling fans grateful to have been able to meet Calum and talk to him for even just a second. But the second a video of him had started circling around the internet and made its way onto her screen, Dovey had just about had enough of the stupid shit Calum had been putting her through the last two months. She understood being too busy for at least a phone call or text. Touring was hard work and Calum was known for pushing himself to the limit. She understood wanting space from one another that maybe this tour was something Calum needed to do on his own in order to clear his mind and think about what their relationship meant to him. But the one thing Dovey wouldn't stand by his side when he was the one that had been telling people she was the one who hadn't wanted to join him. She wasn't going to stand by his side while he told his bandmates and the rest of the world that she hadn't wanted to join him because she was being dramatic. If Calum wanted drama, Dovey could be dramatic. 

The house that I built you made it a mess. 

Dovey had been out of their house, the house that had been filled with memories of them and their love, for about two weeks now. Duke had joined her in the passenger seat of her car that sunny afternoon when she had stuffed all her belongings into the back seat and rode off out of the city. Her parent’s house that brought along the comfort and warmth she had been craving for months was a few hours away and far enough away that any reminders of Calum could be put aside. The small town she had left all those years ago brought her peace and gave her the space she needed from whatever waited for her back in LA, if anything even did wait for her. 

Her mother had met her in the driveway, a tight embrace and promises of better times made Dovey's heavy heart lighten up as she saw her childhood home still pretty much the same as the day she had left it. The living room still had candles everywhere and the tv was playing the same movie channel her mother loved to watch on her days off from work. The kitchen was still stocked with snacks and fruits that seemed too real to be fake. And the backyard was still a playground for any and every dog Dovey had brought home, even Duke who had settled on laying in a sunspot to nap. 

Her bedroom had brought on a new set of challenges, the posters on the walls and the albums on the shelves brought tears to her eyes as she saw those brown eyes looking back at her. He'd be back in their house soon. Dovey wondered how he'd react to find himself in an empty house. What he would think of when he saw the letter she had left him on the kitchen counter since at that point any attempt to call or text him was met with radio silence. He'd probably try to call her at that point, she hoped, but only to see where Duke was or he'd get Ashton to do it for him. Dovey wasn't too sure about anything when it came to Calum anymore. She wasn't sure if he would even care that she had left the gold band on the counter next to the letter or that she had left her keys to the house in the little ceramic tray they had painted on one of their dates so many months ago. 

I’m left with broken pieces can't help how I ran out of tears.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the tour had ended and Dovey hadn't heard from any of them. She hadn't heard from Calum since before she'd left the house almost a month ago and she hadn't even gotten a text message from Luke, who would update her on what had been going on during the tour. It was been one week since Dovey had run out of tears. One week since she had decided that leaving was the best option and that she had made the right choice. 

It had been a week since she realized just how much of herself she'd given away to Calum only to have nothing left for herself. It took her two weeks to realize that if he had wanted to talk to her, he would. If he had wanted to see her or even Duke for that matter, he would've driven to where she was. So when her tears were dry and the pain in her chest was nothing more than a dull pressure whenever she thought about him, she began to fix whatever broken pieces she could. 

It began when she packed away all the old posters that hung on her wall, the smile on every single one leaving her breathless like it always would when she saw it in person. The sparkle in his eyes bringing fresh tears to hers, tears that she would blink away and continue on with taking him out of her life. By the time her childhood bedroom was nothing more than the furniture and bare walls, Dovey felt lighter than she had in months. It didn't last long. As sleep called her name and her eyes closed, Dovey was brought back from whatever dream she was about to enter when the buzzing noise went off next to her head.

I'm sorry. 

I lost all my best years just missing my best years. past love burned out like a cigarette im free now baby all I regret are my best years. 

Sitting in the living room, watching back old family movies and nursing the drink in her cup, Dovey couldn't help but feel like an idiot. She'd given Calum the best years of her life. Gave him all the good times and shared the most wonderful moments with him all for him to leave her with silence and no explanations. She'd gone through the stages of grief, had tried to make her new life without his work, and then he had shoved his way back in with no warnings in the middle of the night. 

The text message hadn't been the only thing Calum had sent, no matter how hard Dovey had wanted it to be. He'd sent her a voice note, a five-minute ramble where his accent had gotten too thick for Dovey to try and decipher what he was saying through the tears and sniffling. He'd apologized for the silence, apologized for the lies, and even apologized for forcing the silence he'd caused from the rest of the band. But Dovey wasn't going to just let him into her life so easily, she wasn't going to let him in after the months of silence and heartbreak. She'd lost all her best years and she needed to find herself again before she could ever consider letting Calum have more of the best of her. 

taglist:  @hoodhoran​ @finelliine @moonlightcriess​ @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver​ @calpops​ @karajaynetoday​ @notlukehemmo​ @calumrose​ @devilatmydoor​ @lyss-xo​ @lowkeyflop

[peach-pops]

Hi I just saw the Ukai request thing and I was wondering if I could get some head cannons of anyone on the team, falling hard for ukais daughter or niece

This was so fun to write! I never actually imply this in the request but the reader is adopted cause it’s more inclusive that way! I chose Daichi and Tanaka cause they seem like they would have Ukai react way differently!

Daichi & Tanaka Going Out With Ukai’s Daughter HC

➣Daichi

Okay so Daichi, being the captain and all, if there’s one thing he is really good at, it is respecting authority and understanding the chain of command

He’s worked from being a mere first-year peasant to being the daddy captain we all know and love

That’s why when he starts to catch feelings for Ukai’s daughter, he does his best to never step over the line because he doesn’t want to disrespect his family in any way 

It all started when you would show up to practice since Ukai didn’t want you alone at home but he gave everyone the speech to keep their eyes off of his kid

He made it a point to point out that you were his only child, his only daughter and that he would crack skulls without hesitation if any of the boys made you uncomfortable 

And yes, He looked at Tanaka and Noya the whole time because I swear they’ll simp for anything with two legs and a heartbeat 

Daichi doesn’t catch feelings for you right away though. He acknowledges that you’re pretty but it isn’t until you two slowly started to get to know each other more and more when Daichi realizes how hard he is falling for you

He’s sometimes a bit scared to make a move during volleyball practice since your dad is always like two feet away but you two share a class so you can bet your ass that he’s always sitting next to you and making up any excuse to talk to you

The two of you aren’t even dating but he is already so whipped for you 

Exhibit A

One day before practice, you complained that you had broken your headphones so without even asking you, he rushed to his house to get his pair and came back all sweaty and red, handing them over to you 

Exhibit B

Your favorite drink was stuck in the vending machine and you couldn’t shake it hard enough to make it drop but Daichi went over and bought four drinks so that way it could knock yours over 

Like you’re telling me that isn’t the cutest shit ever? Are my standards just low? ANYWAYS 

You eventually catch feelings for him cause duh look at him he’s perfect but you know that if it were to get more serious, Daichi would have to talk to your dad 

You knew you couldn’t go behind your dad’s back so telling him was the best and only option 

The whole time during practice, Daichi was nervous as hell. He really liked you but he also really respected his coach so he wasn’t even sure exactly how to go about it 

But when you gave his hand a light squeeze, it gave him a big boost of confidence cause screw it, you were worth it

So Daichi sucks it up and the two of you go up to Coach Ukai and he is such a confident and respectful dude he doesn’t even stutter

“ Coach Ukai, I want you to be the first to know that I have feelings for your daughter and she feels the same way about me. I know you’re protective of her but I would never do anything to hurt her, I can promise you that. If it’s okay with you, I’m planning to take her on a date this weekend if you would let me.”

“ Nope.” Ukai said simply as you whined and gave your dad the biggest puppy dog eyes

“  DAD!” You scolded as Ukai rolled his eyes,” Come on, wouldn’t you rather me date  the captain of a team that you can always keep an eye on than I don’t know, some asshole from a different team?”

“ Why does he have to be in volleyball in the first place? Better yet, why do you even need to date a boy? Are you trying to kill me?” Your dad asked as he looked between the two of you 

Ukai did realize deep down that Daichi was arguably the best option you had-He rather you be with Daichi than anyone else around your age group.

A part of Ukai knew that while he loved to see Daichi squirm, he really was a good guy and he just liked giving him a hard time 

“ Fine, have her home by ten.”

“ What about ten-thirty?” You asked as Daichi squeezed your hand and shook his head

“ No it’s okay, ten works just fine,” Daichi smiled back as Ukai couldn’t help but smirk because yep, you picked a good one 

Fast forward to your date and Daichi is outside your house dressed SO NICELY boy has a hot ass button up and everything 

And duh he has flowers for you he’s so cute I’m simping yall 

Obviously, Ukai opens the door and just shakes his head when he sees Daichi all nervous

“ No touching, I mean it kid. There has to be at least three feet between the two of you at all times and remember, if you ever hurt her I will personally bring a bat over to your house and-” 

“ Oh my god please stop, we’ll see you later!” You slip past your dad and grab Daichi’s arm to pull him down the driveway

“  I SAID NO TOUCHING!” 

➣Tanaka

Okay so you know how I said that Coach Ukai wouldn’t be too opposed with you going out with Daichi? Yeahhhh Tanaka is definitely one of the guys he much rather you not go out with at all

I honestly think Ukai sees so much of his younger self in Tanaka and that freaks him out

ANYWAY Lets go to the beginning tho

Tanaka first knows that he is crushing hard on you when he said the stupidest joke in class and of course, you were the only one to laugh cause lets be real, your sense of humor is pretty shit thanks to the internet 

And tanaka is like “ mhm yes I’ll marry you now” cause bruh no one laughs at my mans jokes he is SLEPT ON 

You two start hanging out and pretty quickly, you both are crushing extra hard on each other. It’s only been maybe like a week or two and you two are so uwu with each other it’s insane

One day before practice, you give him a quick kiss outside of the gym but Tanaka is a certified Clingy Boy™ so he pulls you back in for another one that’s much longer 

“ WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!” 

You both whip your heads around to find Coach Ukai with literal smoke coming out of his ears as he is glaring so hard at Tanaka 

Tanaka’s headass is like “oh im probably getting yelled at for PDA or maybe I lost track of time and I’m late to practice” but oh boy is he wrong

Idk if you guys collectively share one braincell or whatever but it just clicks now for you that “ oh shit, we are so fucked” 

“ Dad, I can explain-”

Tanaka doesn’t even hear the rest of the conversation like his brain shuts down when he hears you say the word Dad 

And he’s thinking in his head that maybe you just call coaches dad for some weird reason but no, Ukai is actually your dad

There’s so much yelling that the rest of the Karasuno members are outside of the gym doors listening in on the conversation because they’re nosey as hell 

Noya is definitely conflicted because heck yes, his boy is dating a female but he also wants to laugh because of course, Tanaka is having bad luck 

Suga thinks it is HILARIOUS 

But anyway

After a whole bunch of yelling, Ukai just says screw it and starts practice and you promise that you’ll talk to him at home but he makes you stay in the gym so he can take you straight home after

BRUH during the whole practice Tanaka does soooooo bad like hes nervous and he feels so guilty

Obviously, if he knew about your dad he would’ve planned it out much better and even ask for his blessing but it was too late to be worrying about what he could’ve done 

“  Don’t be hard on him please. I swear, it didn’t even click that you were his coach and I didn’t want to go behind your back like that,” You said as your dad sat down next to you on the bench as the boys did drills,” but you overreacted. You know he’s sensitive and he’s going to keep beating himself up about it.” 

“ How do you think I feel seeing my daughter kiss a boy? Why can’t you wait until you’re thirty to have a boyfriend? ” Ukai knew you were at the age where he couldn’t keep you away from boys but he was just so protective 

You were his only kid but because you were his daughter, it only complicated things

I already know Ukai raised such a big daddy’s girl (not in a weird way yall) and while he knows he raised you to be super strong, he just wants to protect you from heartache

“ I really like him and he makes me happy and I promise, we won’t even interact with each other if we are around you if it makes you uncomfortable.”

That wasn’t the most comforting thought to Ukai but he knew he was wrapped around your finger and that he would eventually cave in

It took some time for him to get used to the two of you being together. You two never went on any dates at first because Tanaka wanted to ease your dad into the idea of you two being together

But it wasn’t until Ukai saw how protective Tanaka was whenever you would come along to tournaments that Ukai started to feel better at the idea 

Like Tanaka would go FERAL if a guy even looked at you the wrong way and Ukai was secretly like “ yeah you tell em!” 

It was actually comforting to Ukai that you were dating someone who would literally lay their life on the line for you at any given moment because as your dad, he would do the same

So after a few weeks, it was actually Ukai who went up to Tanaka to talk about the two of you going on dates

“ You have my blessing but just know, if you even look at my daughter the wrong way, I will kill you, no questions asked.” 

Tanaka was actually relieved because to him, that was such an easy request. He couldn’t even imagine hurting you or ever making you upset so he was already thinking of date ideas once Ukai finished his sentence

“ Should I start calling you dad now?”

“ Don’t push it.”  

[off-the-heezys]

Sheltered

@jaspvid-week Day 2: Camping/Baking + Day 6: Weather

Jasper and David are stuck inside because of a nasty storm, what will they do? Make a pillow fort, obviously.

--------

combines two jaspvid prompts bc i felt bad for skipping day 2 haha im a bit rusty at writing so pls bear w me you can read it here on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/32102020 or if that’s not your style, you can just read it here on this post

David had wanted to go camping that weekend. He was so excited, of course. Camping was one of, if not his most favorite thing to do. And to share the experience with Jasper always made him giddy. Of course, they stayed on secured camping grounds, both of them having bad memories of.. straying a little too far off the beaten path, you could say. But the day they were set to leave, a heavy rainstorm came down. Weather is always unpredictable, Jasper had told him, but seeing David so upset over it made his chest ache. Seeing David sad was like seeing a sad puppy. No one wants to see a sad puppy. So, dragging his lover with him, they both made a pillow fort in the living room, stealing away pillows and blankets from their bed and closet.

Jasper made a lot of these when he was a kid, staying up late and reading comics or playing video games in them. So he liked to call himself a “pillow fort master,” despite the several times it could cave in on him, making David laugh. Maybe he was a little rusty. After lots of trial and error, they finally had one that was stable enough to move kind of sort of freely in. They were a little too big for it, but that wouldn’t stop them. A couple of fake candles were littered about (David worried a real one inside the fort would be some sort of fire hazard), and Jasper had set up his laptop right outside the entrance of the fort. It was playing an hour long video of a campfire, which made David huff out a laugh and roll his eyes, smiling.

“It’s really pouring down out there.” David hums in agreement as Jasper hands him a plate with microwaved s’mores. The blonde lifted a blanket slightly and sat down next to the other, careful of the other pillows and blankets.

“Not as good as roasting marshmallows, but,” Jasper takes one off the plate. “It’ll help with the mood,” he said, taking a bite, careful of some of it oozing out of the sides.

“I didn’t even know you could microwave marshmallows,” David says, trying to find out how to hold his s’more without getting his hands too dirty.

“Really?” Jasper tilts his head. David nods, finally taking a bite out of his snack. “I used to do it all the time as a kid- I liked seeing them get really big. And-” he lifts up his s’more a bit. “They make for some really messy snacks.” He takes a bite out of it.

They both turn to the window in the living room as the rain comes down harder, drowning out the sound of the fake campfire for a moment. Then, David leans against Jasper, resting his head on the other's shoulder.

“Thank you for doing this,” he says softly.

Jasper leans into him, finishing his s’more before brushing his hands together and wrapping an arm around his lover, squeezing his shoulder.

“Of course. I’d much prefer you in here, with me, where it’s dry and warm, then out there, where it’s wet and cold.”

“Yeah- it is much more cozy in here,” David says, shifting his head on Jasper's shoulders so he could look up at him. He then reaches up and wipes some chocolate off the corner of Jasper's mouth, licking it off since they didn’t have any napkins around.

“Eeew, now you’ve got my cooties,” Jasper teases, leaning in closer to him and scrunching up his nose, squeezing David’s shoulder more. The redhead just laughs.

Just then, a loud crack of thunder makes them jump, and the power flickers out, a stillness settling through the house. Their only source of light was the laptop and the little fake candles scattered about.

“Hm,” Jasper says, sticking his head out and looking around in the dark room. “Good thing I microwaved those when I did, huh?”

Their campfire video went on for only a minute or two before buffering, the internet having also been cut out. The blonde closed the laptop with a quiet sigh.

“What now?” David asks quietly. Jasper looks over at him, almost wanting to tease him for being quiet despite it being just the two of them. He hums, thinking, before scooting some candles out of the way and grabbing a spare pillow, carefully laying down. His feet stuck out from the back of the fort from being too big for it, but just a little bit.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep each other warm,” Jasper says, opening his arms out for a hug as he lays on his back, a warm smile on his face. How could David say no to that?

The redhead slowly shifts down into Jasper's arms, carefully trying not to bump into anything with his legs. He wasn’t careful enough, because his leg bumps into something and the whole thing falls down on top of them, getting a small squeal out of David. He pulls the blanket off from over them, a pout on his face.

“Sorry…” he whines, making Jasper chuckle.

“It’s chill, babe,” the blonde says, shifting around slightly to get more comfortable now that the fort isn’t restricting him. Once he was fully relaxed, David cups his head and peppers kisses all over his face, making Jasper giggle.

“Next time, I think we should have more snacks,” David says. Something in Jasper's chest blooms when he hears the words ‘next time.’

“Maybe we can put on a movie if the power doesn't go off again,” Jasper suggests. They could either play it on their TV, since it was right in front of them, seeing as they made their pillow fort where the coffee table usually is. He knew David would want to play some outdated, cheesy romance movie, so for the effect they’d probably play it on the TV.

“And we’ll definitely need to build a bigger fort.” David looks at their dining room chairs that had been holding up the blanket and pillows. Jasper chuckles. “Not my fault you’re so tall,” he smiles, “and handsome.” David looks away with a shy smile on his face that Jasper could barely see since the room was so dark. He knew it was there, though.

After a few more minutes of discussing a future pillow fort date, David lays his head down on Jasper's chest with a loving sigh. Jasper, almost on instinct, moves his hand up and combs it through his red hair gently.

They didn’t need to say anything. The interaction radiates the words ‘I love you.’

The sound of the rain coming down faded out as they fell into a blissful sleep.

[verymuchimmortalcat]

Maribat March Day 4: Internet Friends

ao3

@maribatmarch-2k21 

Marinette looked up from her phone as she heard a notification go off on her laptop. She had just finished posting the pictures from the photo shoot for her first official line. After years of making items for mainly Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, she had released her first line under the pseudonym of MDC at the age of 17, a year after Hawkmoth’s defeat. One message from Arrow Girl, it was a message from Cissie, which given that she had just released a new line wasn’t that surprising it just meant that Cissie had stayed up past midnight again. It should be around 3 am for her right now. Opening the message, she laughs.

Arrow Girl: HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW MDC LINE, M????????

ITS SOOO PRETTY

WHO AM I KIDDING YOU LIVE IN PARIS AND WANNA BE A DESIGNER YOU’VE DEFINITELY SEEN IT ALREADY

So, yeah Cissie didn’t know she was MDC and sue her, Marinette found it funny how Cissie ranted about her designs to her. It’s not like Cissie didn’t laugh when Marinette obsessed over the costumes on TV and the people wearing them.

Designs&Coffee: Ya, I did

Which one’s your favourite piece?

Arrow Girl: The second one

It’s a master piece

Designs&Coffee: I love that one the most too!!!!!

That was true, the only thing Cissie didn’t know was that she designed that piece.

“Marinette, Adrien’s here,” her mother called suddenly.

“Coming Maman,” she replied.

Designs&Coffee: I’ve got to go, my mom’s calling

Talk later. You should sleep.

Arrow Girl: Says the girl with Coffee in her username

Bye.

Closing her laptop, Marinette headed downstairs, grabbing the Black Cat miraculous on her way. Adrien visited from London once a month but he had left behind his miraculous saying that he’d rather put it all behind with everything his father did. But both him and Plagg missed each other so Plagg came along on their monthly visits. Marinette still wore her earrings and Tikki went with her everywhere but she was more of a pocket best friend at this point then a pocket goddess who gave her the ability to become a superhero. Both Cat Noir and Ladybug had retired after Hawkmoth, they dealt with a miraculous threat and if another arose, they’d be there to help, but for right now the two of them were focusing on their goals and dreams outside superheroing. That was actually how she had ended up talking to Cissie, some random person had started questioning young heroes retiring online, and Cissie and Marinette had both jumped to the defence and they had just continued talking. That had been about six months ago. Now, they spoke almost every day.

Marinette hugged Adrien as soon as she saw him, calling out a bye to her parents she dragged him out of the bakery and they headed to the park. They had a few hours to catch up before they had to meet Alya and Nino.

.oOo.

A week or so later, Cissie was stuck in the makeup chair when she heard the notification that she had set for M’s messages go off.

Designs&Coffee: DID YOU KNOW THERE’S A NEW CISSIE KING-JONES MOVIE COMING OUT IN A FEW MONTHS.

IM SO FREAKING EXCITED

Arrow Girl: I could tell.

Designs&Coffee: I feel like you should be more excited.

ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING ACTRESSESS WHO SHARES A NAME WITH YOU IS STARRING IN A MOVIE

Sometimes, Cissie wondered how M didn’t figure it out. Her username was Arrow girl, she knew her first name was Cissie and M knew that she was working in the movie industry. But then M treated her like a normal human being and not like those other fans and Cissie really didn’t want that to change that at first, she knew now that she would not treat her differently but Cissie had no idea how to go about telling her that I’m the actress you fangirl about.

However, before she could reply to M she was called so they could start shooting. Telling her that she had to go, she’d talk later and that she should take her own advice about sleep, she rushes out onto set.

.oOo.

A few months later, Cissie’s agent gets her an audition for a period drama set in the 1800s when women walked around with corsets and large skirts and Cissie for some reason agreed to audition. So, she auditioned and got the part. The first week on set was just them going over the beginning measurements for the costumes and other things like that. When she asked the director, who was going to be designing the costumes, he said that it was a rather high-profile designer who would be arriving in L.A. next week. That confused Cissie, this movie wasn’t that much of a big deal that they got a high-profile designer. She decided to ask the assistant director who seemed to be a boy around her age, so maybe seventeen or eighteen, who seemed to be always wearing a cap and headphones.

She went ahead and introduced herself to him, holding out her hand and saying, “Hi! I’m Cissie King-Jones.”

He laughed and shook her hand, “I know dudette, you’re the star in the movie. I’m Nino Lahiffe.”

He had an accent she thought was French but she wasn’t quite sure. “I was wondering about the designer, the director said it was a high-profile designer and that they would be arriving next week-“

“And then he asked you to talk to me?” he asked with a smile.

“No? Should he have?”

He chuckled, “The designer is one of my best friends, we’ve been friends since we were about five. She wanted to work on something different and when I suggested this she agreed immediately. Honestly, I think she only agreed because you’re on this movie but who knows with her.”

“Well then, I look forward to meeting her.”

.oOo.

Marinette had arrived in L.A. the day before and was now headed to set with Nino. She was nearly shaking with excitement; she was going to meet the Cissie King-Jones. Nino was laughing at her excitement, “you’re being mean,” she said.

“And you’re acting like a little child, when all of us know when you actually meet her, you’ll be too busy in your designing mode to actually say anything to her, so I took the liberty to do so for you.”

“You did what?” she screeched, earning weird looks from people around them.

“I told her that her being in the movie was probably the actual reason you agreed to work on it. Which is undeniably the truth. Feel free to thank me later.”

“I’m never going to thank you. She probably thinks I’m some crazy fan now.”

“You need to stop catastrophising, Mari. It’ll all be fine in the end.”

“Why am I friends with you?”

“We’ve been friends for too long and now you no longer know how to survive without me.”

She snorted at that, “keep telling yourself that, Nino. Keep telling yourself that.”

.oOo.

Cissie was talking to one of the other members in the cast, when she saw Nino walk in with a petite girl, with shoulder length black hair and blue eyes, who was carrying a few sketch books and a bag that looked really heavy to be carried by someone that small.

When the makeup artist told her she was done, Cissie headed in the direction of Nino and who was probably the designer. Joining the two of them, she held her hand out to the designer, “you must be the designer, I’m Cissie King-Jones.”

“Hi, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Cissie definitely didn’t know that name, her confusion must’ve been clear on her face because Marinette laughed, “I don’t go by that in the fashion industry, I’m MDC.”

Cissie took a bit to process that bit of information, she was meeting one of her favourite designers ever who was apparently a fan of hers. She was in heaven, she had to be.

“I love your work. Your new line was breath taking. I loved the second piece the most, the colours and design were amazing,” she blurted out, before she could think clearly.

Marinette just laughed, a clear sounding laugh, and said, “Thank you, I’m really glad to hear that. The second piece on the line happens to be my favourite too. And I think your work is amazing too.”

Cissie smiled, “Thank you.”

And then they proceeded to talk while Marinette showed her the designs and ideas she had.

.oOo.

Marinette and Nino returned to the hotel late in the evening and were hanging out in his room.

“I told you that you need to stop catastrophising and everything turned out fine.”

“Why yes, thank you Nino,” she drawled sarcastically.

“I thought you were never going to thank me?”

“Sarcasm, my dear friend. Sarcasm.”

“So, you were being sarcastic when you said you would never thank me ‘cause it sure didn’t sound like it.”

Throwing a pillow at his face and calling out a Good night Marinette ran to her room. She opened her laptop to check if she had missed any messages. There were 10 messages from Arrow Girl. Opening their chat Marinette wondered what Cissie had sent. What she saw left her feeling shocked and incredibly stupid. In hindsight it was extremely obvious but then again she didn’t know Adrien was Cat Noir until he detransformed in front of her.

Arrow Girl: M!!!!!!!!!!!

I MET MDC TODAY AND MADE A COMPLETE FOOL OF MYSELF

SHE’S DOING THE COSTUMES IN THE NEW MOVIE IM DOING

AND LIKE HER FRIEND TOLD ME YESTERDAY THAT SHE LIKES MY WORK

AND THAT WAS PROBABLY WHY SHE HAD AGREED TO WORK ON THIS PROJECT

AND THEN I GO UP TO HER AND INTRODUCE MYSELF AND SHE INTRODUCES HERSELF WITH HER REAL NAME AND I MUSTVE HAD A BLANK EXPRESSION CUZ THEN SHE SAID I GO BY MDC

AND THEN I BLANKED OUT

AND IF THAT WASN’T BAD ENOUGH I BLURTED OUT I LOVE YOUR WORK YOUR NEW LINE WAS BREATH TAKING AND I LOVED THE SECOND PIECE THE MOST AND THAT THE COLOURS AND DESIGNS WERE AMAZING

AND THEN SHE WAS SO SWEET AND NICE TO ME AND THANKED ME AND SAID THE SECOND PIECE WAS HER FAVOURITE TOO AND THAT SHE THOUGHT MY WORK WAS AMAZING

M!!!!!!! ANSWER ME PLEASE IM DYING OF HUMILIATION.

She thought about her reply for about a minute and the sent it off.

Designs&Coffee: I’m sure she didn’t think you were awkward.

She was probably concentrating more on the fact that she was talking to CISSIE KING-JONES

Her response was instantaneous.

Arrow Girl: How can you be so sure?

Also how did you finally figure out that I’m that Cissie

Designs&Coffee: I’m so sure because I’m that M

As in the M in MDC. Also how I figured you were that Cissie

Hi again! I’m Marinette. I’m 17 and sorta run a fashion empire

Arrow Girl: Cissie King-Jones. I’m seventeen too and currently an actress.

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, she was worried that this might’ve ended badly

Arrow Girl: Wanna actually hang out tomorrow?

Designs&Coffee: sure!

.oOo.

Cissie woke up two mornings later to nearly a hundred notifications on her phone. About twenty of the notifications were from news channels, which was strange she was supposed to get those only when her name was mentioned in an article and 20 articles in a day were strange. There were another fifty from Bart, which happened occasionally. Ten each from Cassie and Marinette. And a few messages each from Tim, Kon, Greta and Anita.

Checking the news articles first because they would probably give some insight on the dozens of messages, she saw that someone had seen her out with Marinette yesterday and taken a photo which the tabloids had eaten up like starved wolves.

Bart had clearly lost patience fast, his messages were getting more and more pleading as she scrolled through all fifty. Laughing she told him that she had just woken up and would answer all his questions, and she and Marinette weren’t together it was just a misunderstanding, like the one Tim deals with all the time. Kon, Anita and Greta used to the several articles that came with Tim had picked out articles that had the most ridiculous theories and had sent it to her. Cassie had done the same along with several other questions. Choosing to answer Cassie first, she calls Cassie and spends nearly an hour talking to her even though it took Cissie only five minutes to explain the whole tabloid mess. Tim had sent a message saying “welcome to the world where if you’re seen outside your house with someone, everyone is going to believe you’re in a relationship.” Cissie just responded with a laughing face emoji.

Marinette had apologised for her friends’ behaviour, strange as that was. Saying that if she gets e-mails from Adrien Agreste, Luka Couffaine, Alya Césaire or Kagami Tsurugi it would be best to ignore them. They were just over protective and annoying. Cissie pointedly ignored how Marinette had casually brought up four very prominent people in the world. Apparently Marinette’s friends not used to the whole invasiveness of paparazzi had decided to deliver Cissie a shovel talk over e-mail before Marinette could clear up the confusion with her friends. She had also added that they were supposed to apologise and to please tell her if they didn’t.

And that was when she remembered her own friends’ highly similar behaviour and sent a text in the Young Justice group chat that she’d use them as moving target practice if they decide to induct her into their group with threats, and then sent another message to Tim to stop whatever extensive background check he was doing. She groaned as she got a smiley face in reply. Then the notification she had set for Marinette went off.

Designs&Coffee: I’ve been meaning to ask you about why you had all the points you had for young heroes retiring???? so, uh, why did you?

Groaning she flopped back onto the bed, this was going to be one hell of a day.

So my thoughts on how it would go ahead:

Marinette and Cissie meet up to talk about her text but Cissie doesn't really tell her about Arrowette. She changes the topic, after all Marinette was also ready with several points on the same topic. Maybe they eventually tell each other maybe they don't, i don't exactly know.

Marinette's friends calm down pretty soon after, Alya takes some more time but eventually calms down too.

When Cissie says, 'Marinette had casually brought up four very prominent people in the world', Its because at this point Adrien's run as a model still hasn't died out with it being only a year after Hawkmoth's defeat. Kagami is a world famous fencer, Luka joins Jagged Stone on tour and becomes pretty famous too and Alya listened to Marinette, (It ends up being Marinette and Adrien after the reveal who get through to her), she ends up making a name for herself in the year after Hawmoth's defeat, though her work still focuses around heroes/vigilantes which is why Cissie knows her, she's not really that prominent outside France.

Sometime after Cissie finishes talking to Cassie and sees Marinette's text Bart shows up demanding answers. They don't actually know it's Marinette, as in they don't know her name. Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn't really well known, MDC is, and no one knows who MDC is. Tim would probably do a facial recognition scan find out who she is and continue on with his extensive background check and probably figures out she's MDC somewhere along the way. Traya asks about Marinette the next time she sees Cissie

[mulletcal]

words with friends - ashton irwin blurb.

a/n: okay so i got this dumb idea when i saw lau ( @sexgodashton​ )’s tags on this post pls forgive me 

word count: ~1.8k

warnings: none

****

At first, Ashton thought that the lockdown with his 14-year-old niece wouldn’t be so bad - he’d have someone to talk to, crack jokes with, and binge Netflix with.  But about a week into them being told they couldn’t leave the house at all is when things started to get a little rocky.

“Uncle Ash, your WiFi is the absolute worst.  This is the 10th time it’s buffered for this episode of Peaky Blinders.  It’s too much,” she sighed, pausing the TV so that she could turn to him, “You need to look into getting a better service provider.”

Ashton frowned, glancing up from the game he had just lost on his phone, “Is that why I just lost this game of Words with Friends against Calum?”

“Probably! You both have terrible WiFi - so it was one of you,” On her screen, Ashton could see her looking up potential service providers that could be newly set up without them having to enter your home.

“I think it’s his, I’d put my money on it.  My internet’s been fine all this time,” Ashton typed up a message to Calum that said ‘bro your wifi is shit get it fixed’. 

“Fine, or were you just never home long enough for it to become a problem?” 

“Wow, hard hitting facts for a 14 year old.” Ashton’s phone pinged, a simple middle finger emoji as a response from Calum.

“Look, I found one that has contactless set up, and their reviews are great.  Just think about it - you don’t know how long this is going to last, and you don’t want to be in the middle of kicking Calum’s ass--”

“Language!” He laughed, placing a hand to his forehead, “Alright, alright. I hear you.  Send me the number so I can contact them about it.”

Within a few hours, everything had been arranged - Ashton realized he had a weird sense of attachment to his internet service provider, feeling guilty that he was cancelling on them, especially during a hard time like this.  Some reassurance from his niece helped though, and he accepted that his life would likely be better if when he was home he could watch a movie straight through without needing to pause it, go make a snack or two, and come back to see if it had loaded enough.

The next day, the new router arrived on his doorstep, and the man who delivered it was outside in his van, phone at the ready so he could walk Ashton through the setup.  Overall it was easier than expected, everything ready to go in less than an hour - he had expected some type of all day event; but much to his delight he was back settled into his couch, underneath a cozy blanket as he opened Words with Friends once again.

He was eager to be able to call his friend out on his poor WiFi, now knowing (hoping) that it would go rather seamlessly.  Unfortunately though, Calum was busy at the moment, so Ashton was left to select playing against a stranger the game suggested was his match of the day.  It wasn’t often he did that, trying to keep it to just the people he knew - but just this once couldn’t hurt.  What did hurt was the fact that this person was absolutely kicking his ass, making his jaw drop with every word they made.

At the end of their game, Ashton frowned when he realized he lost by almost 100 points - how was that even possible? His phone notified that this person wanted to go again, and he wondered for a moment if they wanted to face him again because he seemed like an easy person to win against.  His competitive side came out tenfold for this round though, trying his best to think of words that would give him the most bang for his buck, as it were.  He almost had them, a few points ahead - but then they put down a word that completely obliterated him.

Ashton almost threw his phone, he did, not used to losing so easily against someone.  He liked to think of himself as a wordsmith, he was a songwriter after all, he should be able to be better at this. Tapping the ‘chat’ option, his fingers hesitated over the keys before typing out ‘HOW?’.  Aggressive? Maybe, but he needed to know what their secret was.

Their reply was quick, a casual ‘😇’ and somehow that frustrated Ashton more.  Maybe he needed to go for a walk.  There was no reason why he should be such a sore loser about a game, maybe being on lockdown was driving him slowly stir crazy. His phone buzzes with another notification and the person asked ‘Another round, or are you too scared to lose again?’.  Oh, now it was on.

A couple hours, and many rounds later with some occasional banter back and forth between the two of them, Ashton finally needed to stop - his eyes felt like they had gone dry from staring at his phone for hours on end.  His niece came into the living room, her head cocking to the side.

“You’re in the same position that you were when I last came down here - have you finally turned into a couch potato? Should I call mom that I’m gonna have to start using you as our produce?” she asked, a grin on her lips.  His niece was a mirror image of his sister, and it made him frown - missing her more and more every day. “Why is your face so red? You feeling okay?”

Ashton hadn’t even realized that his face was warm - was he getting sick? Or was it the witty banter back and forth with the person from the game that had gotten to him? He hoped it was the latter, he’d feel incredibly guilty if his niece was stuck in his house with him while he was fighting what was likely the common cold, but the times were uncertain.

“D’know, doesn’t matter.  What do you want for dinner?” He asked, brushing off her questions as he followed her into the kitchen.

***

Days later, Ashton had kept up the banter with this stranger.  Their conversations were more frequent, and their games less so.  It was kind of nice to talk to someone new, someone who didn’t already know what to expect from him, or things to say.  His stranger friend seemed off today, and it made him frown slightly, thinking that maybe they were growing tired of talking to him.

‘Your wittiness is off today, friend, you doing alright?’ He typed out, pausing for a second before he pressed send - was it weird to ask that of someone? 

It wasn’t long before his phone lit up with a response, ‘Sorry, just tired. My neighbour likes to stay up until ungodly hours playing music, or drums.  Sometimes both at the same time.’

Ashton was mid-yawn as he read the words, a small laugh falling from his lips as he recalled his night; staying up until 3 am in his studio playing drums.  ‘Wow. Sounds like me and your neighbour could be buds, you should put in a good word for me.’

‘Would if I knew them, I moved in not long before all of this started.  Didn’t get a chance to be the weird neighbour that pops by with cookies.’ 

Ashton bit his tongue at that, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips, ‘Do it anyways, be even weirder and leave them on the doorstep, give em a scare and a treat.’

‘Should I leave a nice note saying ‘please keep any and all banging prior to midnight’?’

‘I’d leave out the banging part, but that sounds like an amusing idea.’

Ashton left their conversation at that, figuring he could continue with his day.  Not that his day would consist of much, just attempting to write songs, and test out new recipes with his niece that she always ultimately hated, but it was worth a try.  She decided they should go for a walk around their neighbourhood in the afternoon, and after some contemplation he agreed.  He never ended up going for a walk the other day like he had meant to.

The sun was warm on their skin as they walked, and his nose picked up the faint smell of apples, making him smile.  He thought of his Words with Friends friend, hoping their baking was going well too if they had decided to bake a treat for their new neighbour. 

Ashton hadn’t realized how long he and his niece had been gone until his phone buzzed with a new notification from his RING app, alerting of someone at the door as well as making him aware of the time.  Wasn’t uncommon, he was waiting on a couple packages - but when he opened the app, he saw someone set something down on his doorstep before walking away.  They didn’t appear to be dressed in any type of mail carrier uniform, and Ashton grew a bit distressed by the idea of a foreign item being left on his doorstep.

In an attempt not to worry his niece, he didn’t voice his concerns, instead voicing they should head back.  It wasn’t much of a ways away, them already on their way back - but when they arrived Ashton saw a small red tupperware container sitting there with a note on top.

“What’s that?” His niece asked, leaning down to pick up the note - a smirk spread across her lips, eyes flickering towards Ashton, “Seems like your neighbour doesn’t appreciate your late night drum covers,” she spoke, handing him the note.

Reading over the note, Ashton made the connection almost instantly, his heart racing.  

“What’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“That person that’s been annihilating me in Words with Friends, apparently they are our neighbour.  We were talking earlier and they mentioned making cookies for their neighbour since they’d just moved to the area.”

His niece nodded, a knowing smile on her lips, “Seems like you guys talk about more than just what is basically Scrabble.”

Swatting at her arm gently, he shooed her inside, picking up the container and opening it - he realized then that the smell of apples that had invaded his senses earlier was them, and it made his heart warm at the thought they were so close.

Taking out his phone, he snapped a quick picture of the container to send to them, simply adding a ‘Thanks for the cookies, I’ll try and keep it down.’ Below it before tucking his phone into his pocket to enjoy one of the cookies they had made.

That’s one way to socially distance meet new people, he supposed.

tag list: @haikucal​ @talkfastromance4​ @softbabiestan​ @boyfriend-cal​ @calum-uncrowned​ @wildflowerirwin​ @irwindoll​ @gosh-im-short​ @atlcalm​ @thesubtweeter​ @heavenisapeach​ @ridingcthood​ @loveroflrh​ @wokeupinjapanisabop​ @mantlereid​ @inlovehoodx​

[hoekaashi]

For Better or Worse | B.K. + M.I.

a/n: this took me so long to complete, but here it is. yes, i was inspired by that one picture of tattoo artist deku w bakugou, ya know. that one. yes this came out longer than i wanted to it to be bc i have no self-control. also no banner bc im a lazy poop. also also, i had no idea how to end it, so yeah characters: bakuguo, izuku, mina, kirishima, sero, kaminari, a pinch of todoroki warnings: language, alcohol (they are all aged up), bakugou’s inferiority complex, deku looking dangerous in an all black outfit and a beanie yes yes taglist: @babydabi​ @suckersuki​ @bakugoustanaccount​ @animoozies​ @haiikyuuns​ @depths-of-your-soul​ @differentballooncollection​ @waitforitillwritemywayout​

The thumping from the bass made Bakugou feel like his brain was rattling in his skull and the dim lights of the club were straining his eyes. He needed a break from the sweaty people around him, but his friends wouldn’t let him leave. He looked around the dancefloor, sure that he wouldn’t remember this moment in a few days from now. Lifting his half empty glass to his lips, he took another sip of his drink, the strong taste of the alcohol hitting him hard. He narrowed his eyes when the DJ let out a strong gust of wind again from the hoses on the ceiling next to the confetti cannons that had gone off not long before.

Again, Bakugou needed a break. One look at his friends taking care of the birthday girl was the only confirmation he needed that he could step away from them. Mina’s drunken complaining fell deaf on his ears as he pulled away from Kirishima’s grasp. As he made his way off the dance floor, the groups of people around him tried to push forward to fill the space he was leaving vacant. He walked over to the bar and leaned back against it, wishing there was an open seat for him to take. Downing the drink in one shot, he placed the empty glass on the counter and watched his friends from where he was standing.

Bakugou hated clubs. He hated the crowds of people who invaded his personal space as they danced on him or with other people. He hated being around people who couldn’t hold their liquor and did stupid things with their inhibitions thrown out the window. But most of all, he hated having to deal with drunk people constantly using their intoxicated state as an excuse to persistently hit on him or even feel him up. It was frustrating and annoying, and as he got older, he learned how to best deal with those situations rather than getting into fights. But it had been a while since he had been out and it was Mina’s birthday. Sure everyone had to get together and persuade him, but in the end he agreed that it wouldn’t be an awful time.

And it wasn’t. Hot, sweaty, smelly, claustrophobia inducing, and even sticky, but not awful.

He had been scrolling through his phone in hopes to prevent anyone from talking to him when his friends approached him.

“Bakugou, I want a tattoo!” Mina shouted. Even after all she drank, she seemed pretty sober.

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re all okay with this?”

“Nah bro, we’re all wasted so we told Mina that it was your decision.” He looked at Kaminari who was leaning on Sero for support.

“My decision?”

“Bakubro, just take care of her,” Kirishima said, placing both his hands on Bakugou’s shoulders.

“Take care of - what the fuck are you on?”

“Alcohol bro,” Kaminari said with a serious face. “We’re on alcohol.”

Sero chuckled. “I’m taking these two home to try to sober them up before going to bed.” He was DD for the night, in charge of everyone until Mina decided to go on a little adventure. “They’ll thank me for this before they head out to work tomorrow.”

Sero began to walk away with Kaminari using him as support and Kirishima shuffling behind them, leaving Bakugou alone with Mina.

“Please! Please Bakugou? It’s my birthday.” She looked at him with pleading eyes.

Bakugou didn’t even hide his annoyance. He looked at the time. It was one in the morning. “If there is a shop that’s open right now within a seven mile radius, we can go.”

Mina squealed and grabbed Bakugou by the arm as she ran in her heels to the exit. It didn’t take long for her to stop running with her grip still tight on Bakugou’s arm.

“Where’s my phone…” she mumbled to herself looking around for it. Bakugou watched in amusement as Mina began to pat herself down with one hand while searching the ground around them for her purse.

When he was fully amused, he reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone. “Here.”

Her eyes slowly lit up as she recognized her phone in his hand. Mina had no recollection of leaving her purse at home and Bakugou being nominated to carry it for her. She managed to get on the internet and started looking up tattoo parlors near them. After a few minutes of struggling, she managed to find one. Bakugou didn’t even try to hide his annoyance over the fact that he had to sit through Mina possibly getting a tattoo. It had been a long night and he wanted nothing more than to take a cold shower to wash away the feeling of all those people who were around him.

Bakuguou trailed behind the birthday girl who was dancing in the middle of the parking structure as she walked to his car. The chilly breeze and the fresh air were both helping her sober up and she had a vague memory of where he had parked. As annoying as he found his friends, Bakugou enjoyed moments like tonight where everyone could be themselves and forget about the stress of being an adult. When they could let their guard down and just enjoy life for a night. Why was he on board with this whole tattoo business in the first place? Because who was he to stop his friend from living her life the way she wanted to? It was a harmless tattoo, and he would be there to make sure it would be something she wouldn’t regret later on.

Getting into the car, the first thing Mina did was put the top down while Bakugou grabbed a water bottle he brought just for tonight and opened it, handing it to her so she could hydrate herself. Once he managed to get her to drink at least half the bottle, he took off, using her phone’s GPS to guide him to the shop.

Mina stuck her arm out of the car and leaned back in her seat, enjoying the feel of the cold air on her warm body. Bakugou relaxed as he drove, one hand on the wheel, and the other propping his head up. Even if this felt like a chore, he enjoyed nothing more than the feeling of the cool night hair on his skin as he drove.

True to her word, the shop wasn’t far from where they were. Bakugou was able to park right out front due to the ungodly hour that they were out at. Mina didn’t wait for the car to be fully parked before jumping out and running to the door, ignoring everything Bakugou was yelling at her. He followed behind her, taking his time as he waited for the hood to come back up, slowly feeling regret creep in.

When he entered, Mina was already sitting at a seat, talking the ear off of who Bakugou assumed was the artist. He was wearing a black short sleeve shirt, with a beanie that covered his green hair. Once he got closer, he saw that the man sported his own fair share of tattoos along with glasses and freckles that adorned his face. There was no other person in the shop.

“Bakugou! I decided on what I’m getting,” Mina giggled.

The artist glanced back at Bakugou but said nothing to him as he began to prep the design. Bakugou raised an eyebrow to her. “Are you gonna tell me?”

Mina continued to giggle. “Nope, it’s a surprise!”

“Why the fuck is the tattoo you’re getting a surprise for me? Now tell me before you get something regrettable inked on yourself. I won’t hear the end of this if I don’t.”

“No!” Mina stuck out her tongue.

“Alright, you said on your left shoulder, correct?” the artist asked.

“Yes ma’am!” Mina lowered the dress strap so it hung off her shoulder. He got to work, transferring the design to her skin and began the inking process.

Bakugou watched with his arms crossed as the artist worked. He noticed how there was a small crinkle on his forehead and how his tongue peaked out as he concentrated. His hands moved skillfully and quickly. Mina was talking about something that went over Bakugou’s head to which the artist replied to. He wasn’t engaged in their conversation, he didn’t have the brain power to be at this point. Mina fell silent when the stinging from the tattoo was finally hitting her. Bakugou refused to give her his hand when she asked for it, saying that she got into this mess herself and she needed to deal with the pain on her own.

“You know, you could just give her your hand,” the artist muttered. Mina wasn’t making a sound from the pain but she did flinch every now and then and hiss. 

Bakugou blinked. Did the artist just say that to him? “Aren’t you not supposed to give tattoos to drunk people?”

He cocked an eyebrow but didn’t break his concentration from his work. “My method of tattooing is a bit different. I can give tattoos to tipsy or slightly drunk customers without the design getting messed up from the alcohol in the blood. She would also be much worse off if I tattooed in the traditional sense as well.”

Bakugou leaned forward and noticed that he did in fact use a different method of tattooing. “A different method isn’t going to prevent the alcohol in the blood from ruining the way the ink sits.”

The artist sat back and sighed. “Look, you don’t see me barging into your workplace and tell you how to do your job -”

“Because I’m not fucking dumb.”

He rolled his eyes. “And I’ve been doing this for a long time. I know how to do my job.”

“Yeah, scamming people into getting some ink and for it to be fucked up like a month later. They paid full price for it and you don’t have to worry about anything because they signed paperwork just for this occasion.”

The artist took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “You could hunt down every one of my customers and I bet my entire business that not even a single one would say they were dissatisfied with the work done. But since you’re so hellbent on making me feel ashamed, why don’t you check back here in a month and tell me how fucked up you think the tattoo looks?”

“And what if it is? You’ll give her money back? She’ll still have a shitty piece permanently on her body.”

“You can tattoo something on me, anywhere you would like doesn’t matter how big it is,” he replied in a heartbeat.

That piqued Bakugou’s interest. He thought about the proposal while the artist got back to work. “What’s in it for you then?”

“If it doesn’t look bad, I get to tattoo you. Same conditions.”

Bakugou took a seat at the front of the shop without saying anything else. The shop itself looked pretty fancy, there was no doubt in his mind that this guy was probably famous in the tattooing world. But at the same time, anyone with some money could get a place that big and make it look impressive. He knew he should check out the reviews online, but it felt like that would take some of the excitement out of this bet.

Watching him work, Bakugou wondered if he gave himself those tattoos that decorated his body. If he did… he was about to be even more annoyed because they looked damn good. From what he could see on the artist’s arms and neck, they were all different tattoos but they flowed together effortlessly. It felt like they were trying to tell a story even though most likely they weren’t. Bakugou knew he was staring, but he felt himself get lost in what little he could see. Before he realized it, Mina was finished and wrapped up. She refused to let Bakugou see it properly since he wouldn’t let her hold his hand. Instead of staying with her inside, he got his car ready as she paid and the artist went over proper care with her. Just as Bakugou drove away, he realized he never got the artist’s name.

“Deku,” Mina said as the wind whipped past them. It felt different now that she was sober, but she loved it either way. “His name is Deku.”

“Okay, okay. My turn. Truth or dare?” Kirishima spun the bottle and everyone watched as it landed on Bakugou for the first time that night. Kaminari howled and Sero whistled.

“Make it a good one because this might be our only chance with him,” Sero commented.

Kirishima nodded and waited patiently for Bakugou’s answer.

“Truth.”

Kaminari booed.

“Why do you keep talking about Deku? I’ve seen his work and he’s good and all, but are you like… in love with the dude?”

Bakugou’s frown deepened. “I’m not fucking in love with that nerd. I’m annoyed. Pinky won’t show me her damn tattoo and I’m not about to lose this bet to him.”

“Oh, that tattoo looks awesome. I made an appointment to get one too,” Sero said, pointing to his arm where he was planning on getting it done.

“I just got a new piercing there this morning.” Kiri moved his hair out of the way to show his new helix piercing. “Deku is so chill, bro. We made plans to get lunch this Friday.”

“Man, I went by his place with Mina last night and he was a mess,” Kaminari said as he laughed from the memories.

Bakugou watched, slightly annoyed, slightly in awe of what was unfolding in front of him. Within a couple weeks, Bakugou felt like his world was tilted on its axis. All by one man whom he just met. As much as he told himself to not let it bother him, he couldn't help but to hyperfixate on this new person in his life who made a rage he didn’t know he had in him erupt. Never had he wanted to beat someone so bad in his life. As awful as he knew it was, he was hoping the tattoo came out looking shitty so he could have this victory.

He needed this victory.

Because to him, it felt like his friends were slipping away.

He felt like he was being replaced by someone more likable. More friendly. More easy going. Someone better than him.

And he would never admit how much that hurt him.

Bakugou stood up abruptly. Without saying anything, he headed outside of the apartment he was in and made his way to the curb to sit down. Was he overreacting? Probably. Most likely. But he knew his feelings were valid. He wasn’t the best friend, but they all stuck around for some reason. So he couldn’t be that awful. Right?

He let out a deep sigh and looked at the clouds that were passing him by. His gaze didn’t move even when Kirishima joined him.

“You know we aren’t replacing you, right?”

Bakugou didn’t respond.

“We don’t know why you hate him so much, but we respect your feelings. No more Deku talk in front of you.”

“That won’t stop you from hanging out with him,” he said drily.

“No, but even if I hang out with him and enjoy his presence, you’re my best friend dude. And that’s never changing. You’re stuck with me for life.”

A pair of arms wrapped around Bakugou’s shoulders and the force of the hug pushed Bakugou forward. “You’re stuck with all of us!” Kaminari shouted.

“Get the fuck off of me dumbass!”

“Not until you believe us!” Kaminari leaned forward and tried to kiss Bakugou’s cheek. Sero and Kirishima were laughing, enjoying the scene that was unfolding before them. It didn’t take Bakugou long to shove Kaminari off of him. The blond didn’t miss the small upturn of the corners of Bakugou’s mouth either.

“Okay, but since you’re boring as usual, we’re going to give you a dare.”

Bakugou stared at Kaminari in disgust. “No.”

“Get a piercing from Deku. Unless you’re too chicken…”

All three of them smirked. They knew Bakugou would do it. He never backed down from a dare. As long as it was sensible.

“You want me to waste money on a dare?”

“Nah bro, we’re all paying for you,” Sero said.

Bakugou took a minute to think about it. “After I complete this dare, all of you are gonna shut the fuck up for a week.”

“Bro, it’s not a bet. It’s a dare.” Kirishima frowned. “You’re not even paying for it. And we’re letting you choose where to get it. Kaminari wanted to you get your di-”

“He doesn’t need to know,” Kaminari interrupted, shoving his hand over Kirishima’s mouth.

Bakugou stood up and dusted his jeans. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

The shop looked a lot different than how Bakugou remembered it, but it was also currently daytime. He took a good look at the sign, Deku written in front of some sort of drawing of an ugly, green, bunny ears mask. There were a lot more people inside as well. Bakugou hesitated going in - he wasn’t in the mood to talk to, or even see, the artist. Deku. Deku, the tattoo artist.

When he walked into the shop this time, he was greeted by someone at the register. He easily found Deku in the crowd of people, his green hair visible today. His outfit still consisted of all black, but it made him seem more edgy than how his friends make him seem to be. From the stories he heard, he would never have guessed they were talking about the same person he met that night with Mina. The Deku his friends knew was a clumsy, anxiety-filled guy who seemed to be in his head a lot. The Deku in front of him was too sure of himself and his abilities to be the same person.

“Hey Midoriya!” Kirishima said as he waved.

Deku looked up and smiled at him, casually passing his gaze over Bakugou. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. We came here for someone else.” Kirishima gently pushed a pouting Bakugou forward. “He’s here for a piercing.”

Deku raised an eyebrow and didn’t even try to hide the cocky smile on his face. “Is he sober? I might get a lecture if he isn’t.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and took a seat without being told to. “Gimme the damn paperwork and let’s get this over with.”

Deku motioned for the person at the register to come over and told him to prep Bakugou. As he filled out the paperwork, he couldn’t help himself as his eyes kept wandering over to wherever Deku was. What was so good about him that made people flock to him? What about him attracted so many people to his shop? He internally cursed himself every time he got distracted and went back to finishing his paperwork. He handed it off to Kirishima who went back to the front with the others to pay for what he was about to get done.

“So what’ll it be?”

Bakugou crossed his arms as he remained seated. “My tongue.”

Deku nodded and went to get what he needed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that walk-ins weren’t common during the day. All the artists in the place were busy with their clients. Deku actually had walked away from someone he was working on but the man didn’t seem to mind. There was a small crowd waiting for their turn to be seated - Bakugou assumed they were also walk-ins from how half of them were glaring at him. And from how one of them started arguing with the cashier who looked visibly scared and confused.

The sound of a stool being dragged over to him brought Bakugou’s attention back to the task at hand. Deku placed his materials down on a small table next to the two of them.

“What made you want to get this done? By me of all people?”

“They dared me.”

“Your friends?” Deku got everything ready before he got to work.

“Yeah.”

“Known them long?”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. “What’s with this small talk?”

Deku grimaced at his tone. “I’m just trying to be nice. Get to know you. I don’t think you’re a bad person…”

“And how would you know that?”

His expression softened. “You have some great friends. They wouldn’t hang around you if you were a bad person.”

Bakugou felt himself relax slightly. He motioned to the guy with the two tones hair Deku was working on before Bakugou came in. “What about him? Is it okay for you to leave your client like that?”

“Yeah.” Deku scooted his stool closer to Bakugou. “He’s a friend of mine, he didn’t care. Tongue.”

Bakugou leaned forward and watched as Deku put his gloves on. He picked up the needle and held Bakugou’s tongue between a pair of tweezers with two circles on either side to help him know where exactly to pierce the tongue.

“You’ll feel a pinch but it’ll be fast.”

Bakugou couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning up slightly, amused by the warning. Deku didn’t lie, it was quick and he barely felt a thing. The rest of the process was quick and Deku talked him through care and maintenance of the new piercing. The cold metal balls felt foreign in his mouth and he kept moving it around to feel a bit more comfortable.

“And the pain will get worse the next couple of days. Soreness is normal, but make sure you keep cleaning it properly to avoid getting it infected. Also pay attention to the foods you’re eating.” Deku kept talking as he walked Bakugou to the front where his friends were waiting for him. Bakugou felt his annoyance increase with each word that left Deku’s mouth. 

“Shut up ya damn nerd. You literally gave me a paper with all this fucking information.” Bakugou did his best to keep his voice down, but ended up yelling anyway.

“Sorry!” Deku replied instinctively.

“No need to apologize to him. That’s just how he is.” Kirishima slung an arm over Bakugou’s shoulder. “Thanks for taking him right now.”

Deku smiled. “No problem. I’ll see you on Friday.” He looked at Bakugou as he began to turn away. “And I’ll see you in a few weeks for your tattoo.” He walked away before Bakugou had a chance to reply.

It pissed him off even more how cocky Deku was acting about this bet. He was so sure that he would win, it made Bakugou want nothing more than to crush him. But that would have to wait until the one month was up.

Mina stretched when she got out of the car. “Thanks for driving us Bakugou!”

He grunted in response. All of his friends thought he always drove because he hated everyone else’s driving, which was partially true, but it was just that he enjoyed being in control of where he was going. He got out, eying the tattoo on Mina’s shoulder as she rushed into the shop with Sero and Kaminari rushing in after her. Kirishima waited for his friend as they walked in together. The shop was unusually empty for this time of day, but Bakugou didn’t question it. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would be going home with some new ink today and he didn’t need to deal with an even greater audience.

Mina was already showing off her tattoo to the two people inside. Deku’s friend nodded along as he listened to whatever Mina was talking about. Bakugou felt his palms get sweaty. He hated losing, everyone knew this, but where was this extra anxiety coming from? Why did Deku of all people make him feel like he would never be able to reach him - like he was on some immeasurably high platform and Bakugou could try to climb up there but he would never reach the peak.

Kaminari waved a hand in Bakugou’s face. “Earth to Bakubro. What’s your vote?”

He blinked once, twice. Looking at Mina’s tattoo properly for the first time, he couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it. No line looked droopy, nothing looked distorted. “It...looks great…”

Kaminari laughed. “So it’s unanimous! All six of us think the tattoo looks fine.”

Bakugou didn’t realize the voting had already taken place. He was so deep in his thoughts, not that it would have mattered if he was paying attention.

He shrugged, not having enough mental power to fight this. “What’s it gonna be, nerd?”

Deku prepped a chair that was next to a set up table. “Take off your shirt and sit back.”

Everyone gathered around, wanting to watch Bakugou receive his punishment. Deku got to work, not bothering with transferring a design onto Bakugou’s skin beforehand. Seeing that made Bakugou worry about what was going to happen as Deku dotted his skin over and over again with the gun. Bakugou listened to everyone talk, never once speaking up, as he took in this moment. Seeing his friends interact with Deku and his friend pissed off Bakugou, but at the same time he felt warm inside. Something about this moment felt right to him, he was meant to meet all these people, they were put into his life for a reason. Deku? He was just the newest addition even if he hated to admit it. They were friends, sort of. But rather than the friendship he felt with anyone in his life, Deku made him want to be better. Bakugou felt so complacent after meeting Deku for some reason. Seeing him own his own successful business, have his own fanbase, but still be humble and kind. Bakugou felt like he needed to work harder before he could feel good about himself. And he was determined to get there even more now that Deku was in his life.

For better or worse.

The tattoo was finished faster than he thought, fully colored and swollen. He looked down at his hip where his new tattoo lived, and groaned. “You gave me that shitty green bunny mask? What even is it? Are you coming out as a furry?”

Deku blushed. “W-what? No! It’s like…” He hesitated, feeling embarrassed. “It’s a symbol that I adapted from this hero I liked as a kid from a comic.”

Bakugou squinted at the tattoo and realized what it was. “All Might.”

Deku looked at Bakugou in surprise. “You used to read his stories too?”

“Tch, of course. He was the best superhero and anyone who thinks otherwise is fucking dumb.”

The other five watched, all feeling different emotions, as they watched Deku try to have his first bonding moment with Bakugou and couldn’t help but share the same thought of how those two would become fast friends. Sure there would be lots of fighting, but there would never be a dull moment with them. They also knew Bakugou wouldn’t rest until he was able to tattoo something on Deku. Maybe that was a good thing, maybe it was bad. But no one could wait.

[hqjoellene]

            henlo  everyone  !  it’s  ponyo  back  with  a  second  character  for  ya’ll  .  i  was  prepared  with  milo’s  into  ,  but  i’m  lowkey  typing  up  joel’s  intro  while  at  work  so  i’m  sorry  for  any  mistakes  oof  .  if  you  want  to  plot  feel  free  to  like  this  ,  send  me  an  IM  ,  or  message  me  at  d!scord  to  plot  (  break up with ur gf#6145  )

a  p  p  l  i  c  a  t  i  o  n

            (   maia  mitchell  &  ginnifer  goodwin   )   bopping  along  to  haven’t  met  you  yet  by  michael  buble  is  joellene  ,  the  twenty - five  year  old  ciswoman  thrown  back  to  their  business  management  days  with  some  of  her  memories  .  voted  most  likely  to  start  their  own  charity  ,  joel  was  known  for  being  affable  &  gullible  ,  go  figures  you’d  always  find  them  doing  volunteer  work  ,  but  grew  up  to  be  audacious  &  maladroit  .

s  t  a  t  i  s  t  i  c  s

full  name  ,  nicknames  :  jollene  alexa  farris  ,  joel  /  joey  /  jojo

age  ,  dob  ,  zodiac  :  twenty - five  ,  march  22  ,  aries

hometown  :  starkville  ,  mississippi

gender  ,  pronouns  :  ciswoman  ,  she / her

orientation  :  bisexual  ,  biomantic

height  :  5′6″

occupation  : student  ,  majoring  in  business management  /  minoring  in  home  economics

language(s)  spoken  :  english  -  fluent  ,  german  -  fluent  ,  french  -  intermediate  ,  spanish  -  beginner 

pinterest  : click  here  !

similar  characters  :  marge  simpson  (  the  simpsons  )  ,  shirley  bennett  (  the  community  ) ,  rita  bennett  (  dexter  )  ,  ann  perkins  ( parks  &  rec  )  ,  kitty  forman  ( that’s  70′s  show  ) ,  pam  beesly  (  the  office  )  ,  katara  ( avatar  )

b  a  c  k  g  r  o  u  n  d

all  of  joellene  &  her  six  other  sisters  were  born  into  wealth  .  a  silver  spoon  in  their  mouth  from  the  moment  they  took  their  first  breathes 

the  farris  family  grew  up  on  a  huge  farm  mansion  in  mississippi  ,  rich  off  of  old  money  passed  down  throughout  generations

just  because  the  family  had  money  though  didn’t  mean  that  all  the  girls  grew  up  to  be  spoiled  .  

the  two  eldest  &  joellene  (  the  second  youngest  )  -  ended  up  being  a  mix  between  their  momma  &  pappa  :  they  loved  the  farm

they  loved  taking  care  of  the  animals  ,  doing  gardening  &  cooking  /  baking 

the  other  three  girls  ,  however  ,  grew  up  to  be  materialistic  &  bratty

joel  never  really  minded  ,  they  weren’t  her  issue  in  the  long  run  

she  wasn’t  exactly  popular  while  going  through  school  ,  but  she  was  wasn’t  an  outcast  or  loner  either 

honestly  .  .  .  nothing  really  big  really  happened  in  joel’s  life  .  never  had  a  bad  run  in  with  the  cops  ,  never  had  those  messy  break  ups  you  see  in  the  movie  

she  was  just  average  .  always  average  .  even  when  choosing  what  college  she  went  to  &  what  degrees  she  wanted  .

c  o  l  l  e  g  e       t  o       2  0  2  0

college  wasn’t  really  that  different  for  joel  .  stuck  with  her  friends  ,  minded  her  own  business  on  the  daily  .  nothing  too  out  of  the  ordinary  

she  wanted  to  branch  out  a  bit  a  year  into  college  ,  but  she  did  that  by  joining  a  few  clubs  

joel  ended  up  joining  debate  &  journalism 

she  really  didn’t  .  .  .  do  anything  exciting  in  college  either  

didn’t  go  to  parties  ,  didn’t  even  start  to  drink  until  she  was  of  legal  age

hasn’t  done  any  drugs  (  doesn’t  even  take  store - bought  meds  ) 

a  plane  jane  with  a  heart  of  gold

she  spent  a  lot  of  time  volunteering  during  college  as  well 

after  graduating  ,  she  went  out  &  opened  up  her  own  little  bakery  !  super  small  ,  but  officially  owned  by  her  

honestly  she  loves  his  bakery  more  than  herself  oops 

often  times  would  use  all  the  tips  she  earned  at  work  to  buy  meals  for  the  homeless

she  almost  didn’t  go  to  the  reunion  though  ?  she  almost  felt  like  no  one  would  even  remember  her 

it  was  when  the  reunion  was  announced  that  joel  realized  she  never  did  anything  spectacular  in  life  ?  kinda  felt  like  she  had  missed  out  on  so  much  :/

p  e  r  s  o  n  a  l  i  t  y

southern  bell  mixed  with  girl  next  door 

will  do  everything  in  her  power  to  help  someone  else

selfless  &  very  impressionable 

a  walking  doormat™

a  really  soft  girl  who  will cry  if  you’re  mean  to  her  oops

loves  fashion  though  ?  also  loves  to  dress  up

but  .  .  .  she  will  wrestle  you  in  the  mud  

h  a  b  i  t  s

swearing  | fingernail  chewing  |  slouching  |  slurring  | drinking  |  smoking  |  drugs |impulse  decisions |  obsessive  phone  checking  |  bad  time  management  |  slang |  poor grammar  |  overworking  |  slacking  off  |  over  sleeping |  under sleeping |  skin picking |poor  eye  contact |  lying | rambling | skipping  breakfast  | junk  food |  self  criticism |procrastinating |  day  dreaming  |  forgetful  | envious  |  jealous |  gossiper |  drama  whore |  secret  teller |  skipping  class  |  spitting | lip  licking | lip  chewing |  drinking  from  the  carton |  yelling  |  too  much  internet  |  poor  hygiene  |  impatient | hot headed |  biased  |  complaining  |  scab  picking  |  buzzfeed |  cheek  biting |  teeth  gritting  |  shoplifting  |  scamming  | speeding |  hair  pulling | large  ego |  exaggerating  |  fidgeting |  free  loading  |  littering  |  one  -  upping  |  whining  |  borrowing  without  returning  |  unnecessary  aggression  |  plagiarism  |  copying  |  glaring  | spacing  out | ignoring  |  over  critical | messy |  hateful  |  overly  prideful