#edit: fixed the typo it was pissing me off

[retroosquared]

did u guys know they were friends. did u know.

[pashminalamb]

ℂ𝕆𝕄𝔽𝕆ℝ𝕋 + 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝕃𝔸ℕ𝔾𝕌𝔸𝔾𝔼 ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻ℂ𝔸ℕℕ𝕆ℕ𝕊 𝕆ℕ 𝔹𝕃𝕌𝔼 𝕃𝕆ℂ𝕂 𝕄𝔼ℕ

ଘ Featuring : Shidou Ryusei, Jingo Raichi, Aiku Oliver and Yukimiya Kenyu.

ଘ A/N : This one is two characters short as I have been busy as of late and feeling a lot under the weather so its self partly indulgent ... but as promised a part 2 + character analysis. There will be a part 3 as well :p

If there are any typos or mistakes while I re- read this, I'll make sure to fix it.

ଘ Word count : 2.3k words

ଘ Link to : part 1

ଘ Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated !! <3

ଘ Warnings : none. Only comfort + fluff

ଘ Do not copy, repost, translate or edit any of work.

ʚ ɞ Shidou Ryusei : 

シ The only way he solves his problems is through violence. Never knowing how to control his anger, he would take things and smash them. After he meets you, he does have his violent side, but he also learns to maintain it and control it after how upset you had become once he broke your glass vase. After weeks of apologizing like a small child saying that he won’t do it again, you forgave him and he felt relieved. 

シ Shidou is bad at communication. His words come out in pure sarcasm even though he means something else. The first time you have a complete meltdown, feeling sad and blue while curling up in a blanket, the first words you heard out of him were “Who the pissed in your milk this morning.” with a mean looking grin. On usual days, you would retort back but when the response you gave was, “Shut the fuck up, Ryusei.” he knew something was wrong. After getting used to being called “Ryu” or “Sei chan”, he won’t accept anything like the first half of his given name from your lips. 

シ Walking towards the foot of the bed, he sits in front of you, rose colored eyes staring into yours. Placing a large palm atop your head, Shidou turned your face towards, keeping his expression stoic. “Tell me what’s wrong.” he stated, hand still on your head while sitting cross legged in front of you. 

Not having any of it, you slapped his hand away retorting, “Why, so that you can make another sarcastic comment?”. 

“No. So that I know who to beat up.” he answered in a monotone voice. 

シ During days like this, he would take you to the gym with him. Securing the boxing gloves on both your fists, he stands beside you with a hunched over pose. 

“This is how you throw a jab.” he said, demonstrating the quick movement of his hands beside the punching bag. 

Throwing a punch, the bag moved back and forth. 

“Good, now get some noise out, like a shout or a yell. Imagine it's the person who pissed you off and hit as hard as you can.” he instructed. 

“Are you making me condone violence?” you asked, holding the punching bag to a steady still. 

“Don’t be a smartmouth and do it.” he said, voice dangerously low which meant business. 

シ After doing as he said, he taught you to throw a powerful kick with your foreleg. “Keep your other foot grounded, and make sure to rotate your hips the way you want the kick to go and then… pow!” he said, kicking in the air, eyes analyzing you. 

Delivering a kick to the punching bag, you made the satisfying sound of skin hitting leather with enough force for the entire stand to shake. With a hum of approval from your boyfriend, he gave you a wet sloppy kiss to the side of your head. 

“You did it !! And on your first time too.” he would compliment with a gentle grin, hugging you close to his muscular figure. 

This soon became a routine for the both of you. If either one of you was pissed, you would go swing the bat for baseball, swim or engage in any sport activity that took the most out of you. 

ʚ ɞ Jingo Raichi : 

シ He is very spontaneous with his reactions. His personality is feral, both out on the field and at home. It is mixed with subtle violent tendencies. Nothing too harsh, just signs of holding one by the collar, slapping a hand on the table to create some noise. It's a method he uses to emphasize his point and get what he wants. 

It wasn’t until you came he had learned to change some of his mannerisms. 

シ If he sees you sad and down, he will demand answers from you. He tries the harsh approach at first then he uses the softer method, cooing at you to tell what caused you to be upset. It is only when that method works, he adjusts his behavior and repeats the same next time. 

シ “Get up. I know a place we’re going to.” he says, flopping down on the bed next to you. “I don’t want to go anywhere Raichi.” you said, sinking deeper into the couch. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards the wardrobe. Opening the wooden doors of it, he tosses clothes in your face, demanding for you to get dressed up. シ “Why are we here Raichi.” you asked, while he folded his arms proudly at the sight of the paintball field that laid ahead before the two of you. 

“We are playing this game.” he declared, grabbing your arm towards the area for guards and loaded paintball guns. 

シ If he is your partner, he makes sure to run after you so that you don’t get hit and if he is in the opposing team, he is more enthusiastic about shooting members from your team rather than you. He will purposely try to get hit by you and if someone else marks him, he snarls at them and begins shouting, making you laugh. During days like this, Raichi would take you to vigorous activities like going to the arcade and winning every possible prize, turning food eating into competition of who can finish their bowls the quickest or playing video games at home and trying to distract you. 

シ he tries to incite emotion out of you to distract you. It’s also a telltale sign that he is doing the right thing as a boyfriend since Raichi is new to relationships and his way of reading emotions is not one of the best. 

シ “Raichi… thanks for being there with me today.” was all you said, lowering the plastic of your helmet down, arm armed with the paintball gun, aiming for the protective vest of his torso. Shooting a paintball, Raichi stared as you giggled and ran towards the exit, screaming your victory. Smiling in return he would chase after you with a shake of his head. 

“Ya damn brat. Get back here. Thought you could look pretty and fool me?” 

ʚ ɞ Aiku Oliver :  シ Solves his problems by drinking, going to parties with his friends and clubs. Alcohol and women were a good distraction in his younger years, but with age comes wisdom and he realized that the line between relaxing and a coping mechanism was a very fine one but existent. Settling down with you made him relearn responsibilities and genuine care rather than being crazed over for the wrong reasons. He is happy to know that he is Oliver to you before Defender Oliver Aiku. 

シ “Little bird?” he called out, peeking into the bedroom while clutching the towel close to his dripping hair. Letting out a loving sigh at the sight of you wrapped up in blankets, he knew you had a long day and needed some cheering up. Coming to sit beside the small space you left on the side of the bed, he rests his hands on either side of your body, leaning over your covered head. 

シ Nuzzling into the sheets that cover your head, he let his warm breath settle into the sheets. 

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked sweetly, causing you to squirm. 

“What’s upsetting you, hmm?” he cooed, leaving kisses over the sheets that covered your skin but you could feel the ghost of the scruff of his beard and lips. Humming more, he peeled the sheets away from your face, looking at the solemn expression on your face. 

“I’m not feeling up to it, Oliver… Can you leave me alone?” you mumbled, hands reaching out to the corners of the covers to pull them up. シ Pulling the covers down, he looked at you with his heterochromatic eyes, a smile playing in the corner of his lips. 

“I’m taking you someplace. Get up and get dressed. It’ll be worth it, I promise. ” he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead, proceeding to rub his nose against yours. Moving away whilst you laid in bed confused, Oliver got dressed, holding the door open for you. “Let’s go.” he said with a meek smile, ushering you out. 

“I wasn’t expecting to go out on a snack run tonight, Oliver.” you remarked, biting into a taiyaki as the both of you stood on the illuminated pavement. 

“Once in a while, I am allowed to have my way… little bird.” he replied, taking a bite out of his own. 

Looking from the stars in the sky your gaze dropped to a billboard that was featuring none other than your boyfriend, holding up a water bottle in one hand while the other curled around a football, congratulating him for the latest win. 

“Looks like someone won the jackpot… congratulations.” you muttered, taking a bite into your snack, eyebrows knitting in jealousy. 

“He’s out there touring the world, while I’m stuck here.” Oliver said with a shrug of his shoulders, “That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?” 

Eyes widening at his statement, you looked away, cheeks heating up from embarrassment. 

“First, I became the under 20 captain, then I got into an Italian team… seems like I have a lot going for me, doesn’t it?” he said, licking away at the crumbs that were stuck to his fingertips. 

“I had to give up something even bigger… I settled back rather than moving forward and becoming a striker.” he continued sadly. 

“But… I’m trying to be the best at what I can do. The chance went by… and keeping your gaze back doesn’t make you run forward.” he sighed, placing a hand on your head. “If you didn’t catch this wind, catch the next one, little bird. I’m sure you’ll fly higher.” he mumbled patting your hair. 

Feeling the smile return to your face at his talk, you sighed in return. “Thanks… Olive oil.” 

“Way to go, birdie, cracking the olive oil joke. Just for that, I’m gonna confiscate this. Consider it punishment.” Oliver said, taking a bite of your remaining Taiyaki till there was nothing left. 

“Oliver! That was my last bit!” you said, swatting his shoulder in defiance earning a laugh from him. 

“I’ll buy you  more.” was all he said, circling his hand around yours. 

Feeling an assuring squeeze back, he knew he had you as good as new. 

ʚ ɞ Yukimiya Kenyu : 

シ Dropping onto the sofa after another exhausting day, his attention was captured with the sound of a ping from the phone in his pocket. Picking it up to look at the message, kenyu sighed. 

‘Photoshoot at the bluebell studio in 45.’ シ It was difficult being a model as well as a football player; the one thing that was rather normal in his life was a relationship… yet you were nowhere to be seen in sight. 

“Cherry?”  he called out, eyes scanning the room for a hint of your presence, gaining no response. Walking towards the corner of the bedroom he watched you sniff in a corner, clutching the duvet close to your chest as you threw another used tissue.Coming to a slow crawl towards you, he brought a hand under your chin. 

“What’s wrong?” he cooed. 

“I’m ugly aren’t I?” you choked, feeling the tears well up in the corner of your eyes. 

“Who said that?” he asked, his expression turning into that of confusion and anger. “Are those girls bothering you again?” 

Turning your face to the side, it was enough to assure Kenyu that he had hit the nail right on its head. 

“I have a photoshoot in forty five minutes… Can you come with me?” he asked meekly, reaching for your hand that was now sticky with tears. 

“I can’t go looking like this…” you muttered. 

“Sweetheart, I am a model. We do things like this all the time. It’ll take thirty minutes, trust me.” Yukimiya said with a small smile, standing up while pulling your hand up with him. Giving him a shy nod, you stood up, heading towards the bathroom while he picked out your clothes and went to set two frozen spoons in the fridge. 

“Slightly to the left… perfect.” the photographer said as Kenyu bent a bit to advertise the new coat. Standing behind the crew, you watched him take various positions until you heard him speak. 

“Can you take one with us?” he said, walking towards you. “It’s not a part of the contract, but I’d like to keep it for personal reasons.” he added with a smile, throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

Feeling conscious about yourself, he felt you tense up under his arm. 

“Relax. It’s only me. Now smile bright,cherry.” Kenyu said, eyes softening at you while you smiled at the nickname. With the sound of the shutter going off, the moment was captured. 

Kenyu smiled as he stared at the picture while the waiter placed two plates of blueberry cheesecake and coffee before the both of you. Digging into it with a spoon, Kenyu reached for your free hand. 

“Do you want to see a picture I took of  the sunset from our time in Italy?” he asked. 

“Sure…?” you replied confused as he searched for the image in his gallery. Pulling up the photo before you, you scoffed. 

“No amount of pictures can do justice to the Sicilian sun.” 

“Exactly. Same goes for you.”  

Looking up from your plate, you looked into his honeyed gaze as he gave you a heartwarming smile. 

“People will always have something to say about you… no matter where you go. Fans online may think ill things of you or might wish bad for you, but there will always be people who will love you for who you are. And… Most importantly, you are with me. They don’t get to choose, I do. So don’t get upset over people who don’t matter, dummy.” Kenyu said with a shake of his head, stroking his thumb over your hand. 

“Kenyu…” you called out softly. 

“Hm?” “Can I have a sip of your boba?” you asked, pointing to his cup. 

“Can’t be helped huh… go ahead. It’s all yours.” he said, gesturing his hand over to his cup. Sipping through the straw with a smile, Kenyu was able to experience the feeling of his heart melting all over again. 

[stardusthuntress]

What Does Beauty Look Like? 

Sergeant Hunter x female!reader (if you want a gender neutral version, just say something and I’ll make a second version of this or any of my pieces!) 

Word Count: ~3.5K

TW: jealousy, body dysmorphia (reader’s feelings), so kinda angsty; no use of y/n; maybe a touch of exhibitionism, if ya squint; sorta getting smutty again, so 18+ only! I think that's it, but lemme know if I missed anything (not beta'd)!

Summary: Hunter’s love is struggling to feel pretty, so he takes it upon himself to make sure she knows how attractive she is to him. His brothers make a point to do the same (Hunter and reader are clearly a thing, but if you wanna read this as though it's poly you can do that too, I tried to leave it a little open-ended so that that would be up to you as the reader! If you have a problem with that then, move along, move along)  

EDIT: I FORGOT TO INCLUDE THE DRIODS GUYS!!! They're a part of this family too! I fixed it! AZI and Gonky are now in the story! And I had forgotten to translate all the Mando'a terms, sorry! dictionary is at the top, but below the cut now! And fixed a few typos I spotted along the way too.

A/N: You guys! I just cranked out another fic! Idk why I can only really do them in one sitting lately, but hey, it's not a bad rhythm! And I tend to write the stuff I need to read, so I hope this resonates with others out there too! And I NEEDED to get started on Hunter-focused fics, so here's my first one for you guys!

EDIT: I FORGOT TO INCLUDE THE DRIODS GUYS!!! They're a part of this family too! I fixed it! AZI and Gonky are now in the story! And I had forgotten to translate all the Mando'a terms, sorry! dictionary is at the top, but below the cut now! And fixed a few typos I spotted along the way too.

Fun fact: the dumb question Tech gets asked is a legitimate question I was asked by an adult while in college. You know what they say, never piss off a writer or they will immortalize your idiocy for all eternity 🤪 everyone has bad moments and I still hope that question was just someone forgetting to think it through before opening their mouth, but every now and again it still haunts me that it was not a child that asked me that question. So now it can haunt you too! Hehe!

Mando'a: Ad'ika = little one (a name for one's children; literally ad = "son/daughter" mando'a is gender neutral, and "ika" = little) Mesh'la = Beautiful Sarad = flower

Hunter-specific dividers by @djarrex

For several months now, the Bad Batch has been more than a band of nearly-identical brothers and their little sister. Ever since the day Hunter fell in love and found the courage to ask the woman he fell for if she would join them on their adventures, with his family’s blessing of course, it went from 6 to 7. 

One night, they find themselves eating dinner in a tavern while several very attractive people make every effort to catch the eyes of the men. 

Hunter has no interest in the new people, even though they are clearly interested in him. He only has eyes for one woman, his lover. He and Omega head back to the ship, having barely even met the new strangers the rest of his men are so interested in before noticing Omega was getting tired. He brought her back to the ship, alone, and now tracks their comms from the ship to make sure the others are all safe. As he watches, one of the dots on his screen departs the group and heads for a lake not far away. It’s hers, his lover’s. 

He checks on Omega one last time, nodding to AZI, before heading out and closing up the ship behind him. Tech will be along soon to keep an eye on her. Not that Tech isn’t interested in a partner, but Hunter knows Tech isn’t usually the type for one night stands. Which is rather handy for Hunter in situations like this, when he needs one more adult to keep an eye on the kid (AZI was helpful, but not trained for defense if need be) when he wants to spend a little alone time with his partner. 

He catches up with her and can tell by her body language that she needs him. She’s sitting on a rock, hugging her knees, chin tucked on top, eyes closed. As he watches, she shifts, sighing, clearly trying to hold it in, looking up at the sky above her. Pain sits in her eyes, but he knows this is not physical pain, but internal pain. 

He sits down behind her, one knee on either side of her, and wraps his body around her, pulling her into his chest. But where she would normally smile and lean back into him, she barely reacts at all. 

“My strong, brilliant, gorgeous woman” he whispers in her ear. She turns her head a fraction, acknowledging his presence and words. He knows how to get her attention when she’s down. He also knows of her body dysmorphia. The whole team does. She only told Hunter, but Crosshair and Echo figured it out pretty quick, confirmed the symptoms and her body language with Tech, and asked Hunter about it. She doesn’t know they know about it though. He made them promise never to say anything about it, he knows she didn’t even want him to figure it out, but he wasn’t about the let the woman he loves suffer through it alone. 

“Talk to me, Love,” he whispers in her ear “what’s up?” 

She sighs. She couldn’t hide anything from Hunter even if she tried. “They say it’s not about whether or not a woman is pretty. But as soon as someone who IS pretty shows up, it’s like they forget I even exist, and all the things they said to me about it just evaporate into thin air.” 

“I think they just want what we have,” Hunter counters. 

“Still doesn't change the fact that I’m NOT one of the lucky ones who gets to be pretty. You deserve someone who at least matches you, Hunter. Couldn’t you feel the glances at us, the way those women clearly could tell you deserve more than what I can give you?” 

“They are shallow and just looking for a quick lay, you know I’m not that kind of guy.” 

“Pretty sure any of them would have agreed to date you without hesitation, Hunter” 

“Doesn’t mean they have what I need in a partner” he nuzzles into her shoulder “You know what I like. I like a woman who’s good with kids, who can hold her own both in combat and in conversation with my brothers - I know my family is a lot. I like a woman who is independent and self sufficient even before she joins my squad. I like a woman with a brilliant mind who uses it to protect others. None of them had that.” 

“Must have been at least one with a mind in there to entertain Tech.” 

“Na, he usually just rambles to see if one of them will listen. But it’s not like any of them can keep up with him anyways, and he knows that. He’s not really interested in them, just is bored and has someone new to listen to him. Wouldn’t be surprised if he comes looking for us soon enough.” 

“What about the others?” She’s not convinced. 

“Well, Crosshair and Wrecker just like the attention and don’t mind a quick lay. Echo needs a quick lay to prove to him he’s still got it. The guys are only interested in them because they are just temporary. If they really wanted a woman to stick around they wouldn’t go for one that made you feel uncomfortable, they each know the pain of that feeling themselves and they adore you and would hate knowing their actions made you feel that way.” 

“I’m still not attractive, Hunter.” 

Hunter looks at her, astonished that she’s still not aware of the effect she has on him “I suppose, you think that because you can’t see the way your eyes sparkle when you’ve found a new challenge you want to take on. You can’t see the way your laughter lights up your whole body. You can’t see how beautiful you look when you’re concentrating on something, like when you’re reading a book and your mind is in a different universe. You can’t see how you glow when you get a chance to be a mother to Omega, especially when she falls asleep curled into you. You can’t see how beautiful it is when you’re so focused on doing something right that you bite those luscious lips of yours. Nor how good your ass looks when you bend over while working on the ship with us. And you have no idea what all of that does to me. I guess I usually steal glances at you when you’re doing little things. And I don’t know why I try to sneak glances when you aren’t looking. Maybe next time I should let my gaze wander long enough that you know when I’m checking you out.” 

He plants a long kiss on her ear, and his hands begin to wander. Rubbing every inch of her within his reach. Her chest, her arms, her legs, her shoulders. Anything that holds her close to him. His mouth begins to wander too. It moves from her ear, where it’s been during their conversation, to trail kisses down her neck, which become open-mouthed as they reach her shoulders, sucking passionately. 

She opens to him. Head falling back onto his shoulder, breathing heavy, whispering his name to the heavens like a prayer. Feeling his member harden behind her at the use of his name. 

“I know what you need, Love.” He whispers back. “Let me take care of you tonight. Let me lay all my love on you, be it sexual or not. Let me love you like no man ever has. I know it will take time for this to heal, and that I cannot fix it for you, but let my love help you see that you are attractive, not just in mind and soul, but also in body. Let me show you how gorgeous you are to me, every inch of you. And I swear I will never hide another glance at your body from you. I love all of you, and I need you to feel that.”

“Oh, Hunter!” She mueled as he continued caressing her body. 

He could hear the tears in her eyes with every noise she made as she gave in to his touch. 

“I’m here, Gorgeous” his gravelly voice sending shivers down her spine, knowing that it was her he was describing that way, and that he genuinely meant it. 

Without letting go, he maneuvers around her and scoops her up, bridal style. 

“Let’s find a spot that’s softer to lay you out on, my Love.” 

He carries her to a bed of moss and lays her down gently. Then with a smirk, he dives in for a passionate kiss, covering her body with his own, and letting his body weight act like her personal weighted blanket.

When her hands begin to try to reciprocate and make him feel good too, he takes her hands in his - not her wrists, he wants this to be gentle and sensual, not dominating - and holds them above her head. 

“Not tonight, my Love. Tonight I need to make you feel good. Just let me hear you, you know what your voice does to me.” 

Tech has detached himself from the group and is looking for his Seargent and favorite conversationalist. Tracking Hunter’s comm signal, he follows it to a quiet spot by a lake, hidden by trees and covered in soft mosses. At first he finds it odd that they are so far from the ship when Omega is still on the ship, until a noise makes its way to him as he approaches. A noise like a whimper puts him on high alert, and he ducks out of view behind a tree, listening closely. But the second sound that reaches him puts him at ease. It’s her voice, moaning Hunter’s name. Still hidden behind the tree, he relaxes, and smiles to himself. 

“Good” he whispers, mostly to himself, “bed her well Brother. Give her a night she won’t soon forget, as rare a gem as she. She needs to know how much she means to us. Make sure she feels it, Brother.” 

He quietly departs, not wanting his presence to ruin the moment for them. 

Hunter, still covering the woman he loves in kisses, surfaces for a moment, and glances through the trees. He looks back down at the woman beneath him and finds her eyes, enjoying getting lost in them for a moment. She’s getting her glow back, but Hunter is far from done. And now he doesn’t have to worry about how long they have been out here, now that someone is back at the ship with Omega. 

The next morning, camped in the sunlight on a new planet, the team begins to wake up. Most still groggy, they reaching for extra caf. Hunter, still spooning his love, wakes to the sight of the love of his life curled around little Omega, both still sleeping soundly. But Tech took watch all night that night, as he usually prefers to do on nights like this (something about no one else being sober nor focused enough after a night of ‘wild abandon’ as he called it, to actually keep watch), and someone needs to relieve him. So he plants a long kiss on her temple, enjoying how she stirs a little beneath him, but doesn’t wake up. 

“Sleep, Mesh’la, I need to give Tech a break.” 

He tucks his girls in and heads to the cockpit. 

Tech looks up when he enters, and gives him a knowing smirk. 

“I think she’s starting to feel it” Hunter’s voice is a little extra gravelly with sleep. 

Tech’s eyebrows raise in question. 

Hunter smirks in return. “How rare a gem she is, and how much she means to us,” quoting Tech from the night before. 

“Ah, so you were aware of my presence. It was not my goal to disturb you.” 

Hunter lets a laugh surface for a moment “I kinda hoped you would hear it when you came looking for us. I knew you would look for us. She needs the encouragement of knowing when you lot seek her company.” He glances back over his shoulder to where she and Omega continued to sleep peacefully, “When she wakes up, don’t hide your appreciation for her, make sure she knows how much she means to all of us. Yeah?” 

Tech smiles, and nods. 

“But as far as she’s concerned, you didn’t hear it from me. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t hear us last night” he winks at his brother. 

Tech’s smile widens, and he nods. 

When she does wake, she finds the men and Omega enjoying the fresh air and sights of the beautiful new planet Tech brought them to during the night. 

Hunter’s legs are stretched out along the side of the entire ramp as he leans back against the door frame, eyes closed. Tech sits on the other side of the ramp and a bit farther down, a project in hand, spilling onto Gonky, who sat at Tech's side next to the ramp.  

She snuggles up to Hunter, sitting between him and Tech. Hunter wraps an arm around her in return, checking her eyes to make sure her glow is returning, and smiling brightly back at her when he finds it. 

“Good morning, Love” he kisses her hair, and she leans into him with a relaxing sigh. 

Tech exchanges another knowing glance with him. 

“How was your night, Tech?” She asks, still holding on tightly to Hunter. He can tell she’s trying not to brace for a story about another woman, and an endless description of how pretty she was. 

“Fine,” Tech responds, matter-of-factly, “finally got a chance to finish a few projects I’ve been working on for far too long.” 

Something about the way he doesn’t even mention the women that were chatting them up the night before, almost as if he’s forgotten them already (he has), makes her feel a little better. 

Hunter can feel her relaxing against him. He smiles. 

“And you? It sounded like you two had a good night last night.” Tech’s attention is still on his project, and he acts as though he did not just say he caught them making love the night before. 

“Uh,” she glances at Hunter, and finds a mischievous look awaiting her there. So he had known Tech overheard. She blushed. “Yeah.” Her eyes trailed to the ground, she didn’t mind that he had heard, but she wasn’t exactly expecting him to bring it up so nonchalantly either. “And you?” She tossed the question back at him, not exactly sure what else to do. 

“They, were not my type,” he answered, simply. “One of them asked how water gets back up to the top of a river, because they thought they were essentially circular by nature. I left shortly thereafter. However, you should ask the other three that question, as each of them attempted to sneak into the ship very early this morning. None of them successfully snuck into the ship, but since they did not wake you, Hunter, nor Omega, I suppose they did not entirely fail, either. But I thought you would all appreciate waking up in a place like this instead of stuck amidst the stink of that city.” 

She and Hunter laughed at his story. 

“Much appreciated, it is beautiful here. All in all, not a bad night though, despite the shallowness of the company?” Hunter asked. 

“Affirmative. It was nice to finally finish up a few projects. Speaking of, I believe that completes one more.” Tech seems to be done fiddling with the project in his lap and holds it out to her, “the reading light you wanted.” 

She looks at it, surprise etched onto her face, and then her eyes move to Tech as though she’s missing something. 

“Crosshair saw you eyeing one at that book stall a few planets ago,” Tech explains. 

She looked over to where Crosshair sat, alone, but not far away, and caught him watching her out of the corner of his eye. He nodded at her, confirming Tech’s story. 

“It took me a while longer than I liked to acquire all the parts and complete it for you. Echo helped discreetly acquire the pieces and keep my designs for it out of sight so that it would be a surprise for you. I know you’ve probably already finished the books you bought that day, but for the next time we find you some new books.” 

She takes it and turns it on, examining it, a smile on her face. 

“I made sure to make it not too bright so it won’t wake Hunter if you want to read at night, but not dim enough to strain your eyes,” he supplies, always ready with more info. 

“Thank you, Tech. I didn’t realize anyone had noticed that, let alone cared enough to make one for me. You have so many projects you’re working on already, you didn’t have to do this for me.” 

“I wanted to do this for you. You mean a great deal to all of us, not just because Hunter loves you. As you know, we do not let just anyone stay with us. This is my way of saying thank you for all the little things you do for us. Do not think we do not notice them.” 

Her eyes are glossy as she leans over to hug him “thank you, Tech. You’ve no idea how much this means to me.” Tech reciprocates the hug, and Hunter smiles at him from behind her, nodding at his brother. 

She leans back into Hunter, resting her head on his shoulder, clutching her new reading light to her chest. 

Hunter pulls her close, and whispers in her ear “See? You mean the galaxy to all of us.” 

“How do I know you didn’t set that up just to make me feel better?” She giggles, but her voice is quiet, not wanting the others to hear. 

“Then trust me that he did not ‘set it up’, I have been working on it since we visited that bookshop and left early last night to finish it and a few other projects when I found myself quite bored,” Tech piped up. 

“Sorry, Tech. I didn’t mean—” 

“You have nothing to apologize for. It meant a lot to me to have someone with us who also appreciates books and knowledge as much as I do. Making something as simple and small as a reading light is the least I could do in return.” 

She reaches out and takes Tech’s hand, squeezing it for a moment as a way to say thank you. Tech squeezes back for a moment, then picks up the next project that had been sitting atop Gonky. 

Hunter is beaming with pride for his little family. 

Omega bounces up to them, her cheeks pink from frolicking in the great outdoors since she woke up. 

“Good morning!” She smiles brightly up at Hunter and his partner, throwing herself into their arms. 

“Good morning, Ad’ika [little one],”  Hunter laughs, hugging both his girls tightly, and making them laugh too. 

“Tech! Look what I found! What kind of flowers are they?” Omega holds out a bouquet of a wide variety of flowers, and Tech begins to tell her all about the different species and why they are different colors and shapes. 

Wrecker approaches, brushing off the grass acquired from following his little sister through the meadow and helping her pick one of every type of flower they could find. He pauses, picking two more flowers on his way over. 

“Mornin’!” He practically shouts as he arrives at the ramp to the ship. And then he leans forward and sticks one flower he just picked behind the ear of the girl, and one behind the ear of the woman at Hunter’s side. Beaming at the young girl and the woman, he wordlessly plops himself down in the grass at the foot of the ramp to listen to Tech rambling about the flowers in Omega’s hands. 

“A flower as beautiful as you, Sarad [flower]” Echo approaches from behind, holding a steaming mug of caf, and looking at the woman in Hunter’s arms. She smiles as Echo leans against the doorway behind Tech. 

“Aww, thanks, Echo.” 

He winks at her, and nods at Hunter. 

She cuddles her way into Hunter, who’s hand now rubs her back. He’s still smiling broadly, eyes full of love as he watches her. 

Crosshair nods his approval from his spot nearby, giving her one of his rare smiles, as he plucks a toothpick from one of the pockets on his belt. 

Maybe Hunter had been right. Not that she didn’t trust him, she just had trouble believing it when someone told her she was pretty. After a lifetime of what seemed like evidence to the contrary, it was nice to start a little collection of evidence beginning to prove that that notion may have been jaded by her own self-doubt. 

Please don't steal my work though! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

[eowyntheavenger]

Time to complain!

I needed to write a new paper this week with a quick turnaround, and the editing process was absolutely AWFUL. This editor has given me trouble before—he adds multiple grammatical errors to my pieces every time he edits them! He has one job! And he is terrible at it!

But this was somehow worse. He did, as always, add multiple errors to the paper, which I then had to fix. He also rewrote my title to something so bad that I was actually worried it would damage my reputation. I told him I was not comfortable with the title, because it sent the wrong message and misrepresented what I was saying in the article, but he refused to change it. He told me that titles “don’t need nuance” and that I was overthinking.

He published it with that title. My coauthor saw it and obviously hated it, so he ALSO asked the editor to change it. The editor still refused. Then my coauthor asked him to take the piece down until we could figure it out. The editor still refused.

Finally the editor takes the article offline at 6pm. Me and my coauthor think okay, good, we’ll sort this out in the morning during regular work hours. We didn’t communicate with the editor anymore—we thought we should let everybody cool down.

Then at 9pm (the same day) the editor sends us an email saying he’s made the change back to my original title and put it back online—but he launches into this whole thing about how our articles are “underperforming,” our concerns about reputational damage are overblown, and only he can “increase our engagement” by putting “catchy” (read: NY Post style, clickbaity) headlines on our articles, which again he claims have “underperformed.” It was way past passive aggressive—it was just aggressive and insulting.

I’m so mad. I mean, we got the title changed, so in that sense we “won” here. But I still have to work with this guy in the future, and he’s clearly willing to burn bridges and insult me and my colleagues over a disagreement. My supervisor was on the cc line of his email!

Also, reality check. One of my articles was among the top 15 most-read pieces that my employer published during the ENTIRETY of last year. So, underperforming? Meanwhile this guy can’t even catch his own typos. He posted a photo and caption along with the article, and the caption had a misspelling AND a factual inaccuracy in it. I had to email him AGAIN asking to fix them. The positives here: I like my coauthor and I appreciate him standing up for us, which was better than if I’d had to do it by myself. And after our article came back online with the title we wanted, we got really good feedback from other experts. The same day, I received an email from the editor-in-chief of a very reputable publication asking me to write an article for them.

At least later today I’m catching up with one of my best friends, which is always fun and cheers me up. And next week I’m seeing two other friends who live on the other side of the world but are visiting my area, so I’m looking forward to that.

I��m just so! pissed! off!!!!!!!!!!

[damgel]

Helluva Boss S01E07 part 1 theory

I have a theory on Blitz.  *Warning. I rambled profusely during this train of thought because this is a copy paste of my theory I spewed forth at @siascrawls​ earlier tonight. The most editing I did was fix typos and made one or two sentences make more sense* okay. So I've rewatched ep7 like 14 times (no exaggeration needed), and I've been pausing on the photos in the background and really thinking about the episode as a whole season and not just as the episode.... and it dawned on me. The episode revolved around Moxxie and Millie, not Blitz. He was spying on them, yes. but Asmodeus FIRST was going after Moxxie and Millie for how lovey-dovey they are. Blitz has established he is OBSESSED with M&M, and he keeps screwing up his own relationships.......... but. what if. it's not because he messed up the relationships by being a dick (that was just how he forced the relationship to end officially). What if, he's fascinated with M&M because not only does he want that same level of love; but it's because he's felt that, asked for it, and his PARTNERS never wanted to be THAT COMMITED with him so he’s basically studying M&M in order to learn how to make it work but with Stolas he’s starting to feel like he wants that, he really does. stolas was the first picture on his phone. So what if the whole special arrangement they have deal-thing has just messed with his head and he did what he does best: he broke it off before they could realize the level of freak he is that's what Verosika called him (in ep. 7). a freak. what if he did open up to her about wanting to be monogamous and she was like "what the hell? WHY? NO!" and it broke his heart. so he screwed her over in his own way by doing something selfish to end it..... thus the maxed out credit card (and getting horse riding lessons because~) his mom......... seems logical she worked at the circus. AND what if she was a horse stunt lady-imp and thus his fascination with horses? because he feels closer to her by being near them? Blitz feels like a freak for wanting to be in love and having one person he can truly be himself with and cry with and laugh with..... (maybe something he had with his mom and Barbie Wire and his mom made him feel normal for wanting that growing up so naturally in childish innocence he expects whichever partner he finds himself with to want the same, but they don’t... and it hurts because why wouldn’t they want to be with him?) but  because he's been called a freak for wanting it.... suddenly the "this is hell moxxie no one cares" feels like he's been told that one too many times. M&M are unique because they are the OPPOSITE of what we the audience expect in hell. but they own it and don't care what other demons or imps think. and Blitz envies them for having found each other so easily when he's tried so hard with so many others. Every single person I talk to about M&M, or when I listen to reaction videos, they ALWAYS say how “pure and beautiful M&M's relationship is and how are they in hell? They are soooo cute! it makes no sense.......” what if that was the foreshadowing? Blitz invades their space because he wants to learn how to have that himself... but he's so jaded now he can't open up even when stolas is right there reaching out to him --- literally.  Yes, I agree, Millie's mom and dad seem like they get along just fine. And maybe the idea of marriage isn't what turns the imps and demons off. it's the monogamy. it's the idea that they truly are so devoted to one person that even a roll in the hay with another isn't an option. not because they don't have offers, but because they don't WANT to. their partner is enough for them and they dont' want anyone else. and that is a concept most in hell can’t fathom.... because again, with Stella, it wasn’t’ the infidelity that she was pissed about. it was that Stolas slept with an imp... thus, status. she didn’t give a rat’s behind about him screwing someone else. and looking through the pictures, Fizza-Rolli and Blitz look like they could have been possible childhood sweethearts (that Mamon concert picture, the way Fizz is leaning on him, hanging off his shoulder, just feels too much they are together-together and not just best friends at a concert). but now Fizz works with Asmodeus, the demon ruler of lust. and that song implied that fizz prescribes to the no lovely-dovey belief system. aka. he believes in lust, not trust.  Verosika is a succubus. pure lust and indulgence.  even taking into account Striker in a vague sort of way of seeing whom Blitz initially finds attractive.... he's super greedy, self-centered, and lacks any empathy toward another even one he's willing to work with. Blitz just picks the wrong people. but then here comes Stolas. this demon Lord struts into his life, a demon who is just finding his true self for the first time, who is basically throwing himself in headfirst into everything sexual and freeing and secret-heart-desires for the first time; and yet, he’s super clingy, he’s doting, attentive (even if he’s oblivious and a bit thick concerning other’s emotions). Stolas is something Blitz tries to lie to himself that he hates, but ultimately, he's taking sneaky selfies of the two of them in bed together just to have a picture of them together...... yet, looming over his head from beginning, Blitz is trying not to admit maybe he does like the bird. This is an arrangement they made simply so Stolas can get his cloaca pounded once a month. and it just sits wrong with blitz because.... once feelings start to infest and then solidify..... i mean, Stolas CAME TO RESCUE HIM. He broke probably a million demon laws to save him.... and the first thing he asks after he scares the crap out of the humans is... 'are you alright?' thats essentially all Blitz has ever wanted. is just someone to be there who has his back. Like say.... something his mother and sister used to be for him. Stolas proved to him he has his back and that’s why ep 6 ended with Blitz initiating because he felt for 7 minutes in heaven there, that Stolas understood him and wanted him and came to rescue him because he means something to Stolas...... at least.... until the lights go out and then Blitz can over-think everything and second guess his emotions. having his life dragged through the mud by Asmodeus and Fizz, he is reminded WHY he only sees the bad in relationships towards himself, and be mocked, the abandonment.... and he just automatically assumes Stolas will do the same once he finds someone else better. because Blitz is an imp and sooooo far beneath Stolas. he's not worth it. ..... (Blitz blacked out his own face in all his photos. he hates himself so much, and that might stem back to his mother and sister and whatever it was that destroyed his first family that made him feel worth-while. he screwed something up so bad that he doesn’t feel like he’s worth anything event though he works so hard to BE something of worth). so in ep. 7 he breaks everything off before Stolas can realize how much of a freak he is for even entertaining the idea they could be more together..... (soemthing he’s still lying to the public about in an attempt to protect himself emotionally) and he screws up their evening by telling stolas off because now he can put that wall up once more seconds after Stolas offered an olive branch to get to know him. Blitz wants what M&M have. but what he can't figure out is how he can get it for himself without getting hurt -again-. *gasps for breath and bows*

yes. 

that’s my theory. thank you @siascrawls for listening to me ramble on about this theory I developed over the last two days. and thank you all for coming to my ted talk. 

[teklarn]

I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently. 

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 

genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end

warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol,  second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(

word count: 2507

pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things. 

- - -

read part one here my loves !!

you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all. 

part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever. 

at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds. 

at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. 

“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?” 

your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?” 

he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated. 

“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding. 

“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.” 

“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.” 

“do you want to go back to the dorms?” 

you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.” 

midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up. 

“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—” 

“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance. 

you gulped. “yeah, there’s—” 

“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”

your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough. 

- 

the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears. 

each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him? 

it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue. 

you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him. 

you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name. 

“y/n?” 

you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?” 

“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?” 

your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.” 

“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise. 

yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?” 

you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.” 

- 

it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it. 

you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out. 

most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it. 

surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together. 

unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side. 

in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.) 

you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three. 

“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned. 

your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.” 

“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.” 

you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.” 

you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him. 

“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away. 

“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles. 

you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.” 

he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight. 

“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume. 

midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—” 

“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.” 

“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself. 

“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked. 

“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another. 

you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen. 

a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground. 

izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”

you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.” 

you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.” 

“bu—” 

“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.” 

midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand. 

attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting. 

cement flew into the air. 

that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots. 

in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder. 

bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest. 

you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya. 

while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park. 

you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question. 

twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement. 

it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost. 

your head whipped around to see him charging for you. 

your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore. 

bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right? 

when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain. 

bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions. 

he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering. 

it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up. 

“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling. 

“y/n! are you alright?” 

you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”

“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.” 

“do you need—” 

you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst. 

although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg. 

you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.

you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly. 

there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away. 

she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?” 

you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.” 

the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down. 

she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?” 

you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.” 

“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.” 

“mhm,” you agreed. 

“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.” 

you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you. 

when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?” 

“yes, thank you recovery girl.” 

she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.

your eyes fluttered shut not long after that. 

- 

the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off. 

“good, you’re awake.” 

you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!” 

bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage. 

“what...what do you want?” 

even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. ��about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.” 

your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.” 

“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.” 

heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-” 

“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.” 

“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused. 

“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone. 

“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.” 

“the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?” 

bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.” 

you gulped. 

“so what’re you saying?” 

“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.” 

“say it again.” 

“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours. 

“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.” 

it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out. 

“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.” 

he grinned. “where to?”

[citharaposts]

*Author Rant Alert* There's a pervasive attitude that fanfic authors can't accept criticism and all we want is people to clap us on the back and tell us how wonderful we are. This isn't the case, HOWEVER, I really would like to address the etiquette surrounding commenting and mention a few things for people to bear in mind before they leave a comment.

Unless an author has specifically asked for constructive criticism, don't give it. Some people are fledgling writers and can't take it, some people just aren't interested and some people react to it very poorly. If you're going to comment, do so about something the writer can change in the future. Don't say how you want the fic to have ended, don't say you would have changed X's characterisation, don't say that you didn't like how a certain chapter has played out. If an author has posted a fic, they're not going to change it. By the time they've posted it, an author has planned it, edited it, spoken with a beta, gone back and forth and decided that that this is the final version they want to go with. Saying you personally want something else will only piss an author off. If you're going to comment, firstly be respectful, and secondly be useful. Something like, "you shift from past to present tense within sentences, which can be jarring for a reader", is something a writer can work with and try to improve upon when they next write. Again, don't do it if someone hasn't asked for it. For me, pointing out typos is, I think, very helpful, because it isn't questioning anyone's talent, it's just spotting something that makes the work look sloppy and an author can fix. I'm always grateful when someone points these out, however, if that's all they comment on then it's a tad irritating. Think about commenting like you would about going to someone's home. You've been invited to view something personal and important to somebody, so do so with respect and remember that there are boundaries. At the end of the day, this is a hobby. Yes, many of us take our writing very seriously, and put a great deal of thought and effort into our work, but we still do it unpaid and in between our real lives. We do it for fun and because we love it, so just take a moment to pause before you leave a comment and consider how it might affect the author who will have to read it.

[redeadepression]

Heart to Heart | John Marston x Abigail Roberts | SFW

Characters: John Marston, Abigail Roberts Marston

Warnings:  It’s ‘mentions of’ everything because I don’t feel it’s fair to send you all in blind but also, there’s no sex in this story. |  Mentions of BDSM relationship, Mentions of Dom/Sub dynamic, Mentions of dubious consent, Mentions of Mommy Kink (dubious as to whether or not there is one 😂), Mentions of Humiliation Kink, Verbal fighting, Heart to Hearts, safe-words

Word Count: 3281

Summery: An argument leads to John accidentally exposing one of his kinks. Abigail is delighted by this turn of events while John is terrified at the thought of what she could do with this knowledge. 

~ Well, well, well if it isn’t me back on my bullshit. Enjoy this mess of feels that is set in the same universe as my other kink related John/Abigail works such as Apologies and Caught. ;)

Again, edited by me at midnight. So please ignore the typos. 

~~~

John stared at the canvas wall of his tent; eyes unblinking as he wondered what the plan was going to be for the day ahead.

Dutch had been increasingly petulant lately and John wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done to earn the man’s distain.

Or if he could fix it

If he even wanted to fix it.

He sighed heavily, bring a hand up to rub at his tired eyes. Desperately wishing he could sleep.

He had been awake for hours. Just staring. Thinking. He was starting to drive himself insane.

He’d tried to remember the last time he’d slept well. Frowning at the cloth in front of him as he came to the realisation that it had been months.

Footsteps behind him caught his attention and he finally ripped his gaze away from the wall, turning to see Abigail standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

He turned back to his previous position. He didn’t really have anything to say to her lately.

She had been increasingly impatient with him and his lack of motivation and he himself was cranky and irritable from lack of sleep.

It seemed every conversation they had lately ended in fighting or fucking. He couldn’t really complain about the second part but if he was being truly honest, he was tired of that too.

Abigail had always been the dominant one in their relationship but lately he was finding her domineering personality intolerable even inside the bedroom.

She was pissed at him whether she knew it or not and while he didn’t usually mind being her plaything, lately he was suffering at her hand. Unable to complain because ultimately their encounters always ended in his orgasm regardless of his deeper feelings.

“Will you get up?” Abigail scolded, interrupting his thoughts. He didn’t reply, staring blankly ahead of him as he heard her draw closer. “John?” She asked, touching his arm lightly and exhaling softly as she caught sight of his face. “You look like crap.” She commented bluntly, making him scowl.

He turned to face her as she sat down on the cot next to him. Knowing her comment was meant in jest but also made out of genuine concern.

Or at least he hoped that was it.

“It’s still early.” He said eventually, eyes locking on to hers as he blinked wearily.

“It’s nearly Nine.” Abigail corrected, her tone implying that he was very lazy.

He stared at her sadly, admiring the way the sunlight played on her sharp cheekbones and made her hair shine.

She was beautiful.

Mean.

But beautiful.

John placed a hand on her thigh, thinking momentarily before opening his arms and gesturing for her to lie in them. She furrowed her brows, looking annoyed before pushing his arms away.

“I ain’t in the mood.” She said briskly, adjusting the collar of her shirt before letting her hands fall to her lap.

“I just want you to lie with me.” John said frankly. Frustrated by her assumption and her rejection.

“Why?” Abigail asked, sounding irritated.

“Ugh.” John grunted, rolling his eyes. “Forget it.” He muttered, rolling away from her once more.

Abigail felt a tinge of regret at the way she had spoken. He had been annoying the hell out of her lately but he was a good person and he always tried his best for her.

She huffed a small sigh, placing her hand on his arm and rolling him back towards her.

“I mean why…” She struggled with the words. Not usually one to be comforting. “Why would I lie with you when you’re about to get up?” She asked, smiling as kindly as she could. He saw right though it. Sad eyes looking away from hers as he rolled away once more.

“Because I can’t sleep.” He answered honestly, surprising himself. “I always sleep better when you’re around.” He mumbled softly, feeling embarrassed by his admission.

“Oh.” Abigail said quietly, not expecting such an honest and open answer. John wasn’t usually this free with his feelings. Perhaps the lack of sleep was finally starting to bring him undone. “Well, I guess I could lie in for a minute.” She said as he turned to look at her once more.

“Forget it.” He grumbled, moving the covers off himself and pushing passed her to stand. Abigail watched him regrettably, standing herself and saying something about having breakfast together while John pulled his boots on.

“Mhmm.” He hummed tersely, pressing his heel into the dirt so it was snug with the sole of his boot.

“Why are you in such a crappy mood?” Abigail asked, her feathers ruffled by his dismissal.

“Could ask the same of you.” John countered with a sarcastic smile as he rummaged through his things looking for his belt.

“Well maybe sometimes your crappy mood rubs off on others and puts me in crappy mood.” Abigail snapped, trying her hardest to stay calm and prevent another fight. “Did you ever think of that?” She asked bluntly as John returned to her side, fastening his belt.

“Well maybe sometimes…” John began in a mocking tone. “You nag me too much and don’t give me a minute of peace.” He said, only a few octaves off shouting.

“Well maybe…” Abigail growled. “You shouldn’t be such a lazy bastard and I wouldn’t need to nag you as much!” She snapped.

“Well!” John began, seething. “Maybe sometimes…” He paused, huffing out a breath as he looked her in the eye. “I just feel like you don’t even love me.” He finished softly, clenching his fists as he slumped down hard onto the cot behind them.

Abigail swallowed her retort. Surprised for the second time that day by his candour.

She rolled her eyes, knowing he couldn’t see her from his position. She hated when he pulled this crap.

She turned to look at him pointedly, pursing her lips and sighing heavily through her nose.

“I love you.” She said tersely, slinking down so she was resting on the cot next to him.

It was John’s turn to roll his eyes. Tilting his head and giving her a look of contempt.

“You have to say that when I complain about you not saying it.” He mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at her.

Abigail threw her arms up in exasperation.

“Well, what the hell do you want from me?” She asked in frustration. “You want me to not to say it?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“I want you to mean it.” John mumbled, not taking his eyes off her. “And you could at least try to sound like you care.” He added.

Abigail exhaled sharply, sucking on her teeth with her tongue and then inching closer to him. She placed a soft palm on his cheek and nodded in his direction.

“I love you John.” She repeated firmly, as naturally as she could but her tone was dripping with condescension.

John glowered at her, not breaking his eye contact as he pushed the hand away from his face and let his arms fall by his side.

“Whatever.” He murmured, finally looking away. Feeling stupid for whining in the first place. He was a man. He shouldn’t be grovelling for affection like a lost puppy.

He was just tired.

Abigail snickered softly. Feeling bad that she had been so cruel. He was good to her for the most part and she loved him dearly. But sometimes he annoyed her so much that she found it physically hard to say out loud how much she adored him.

She inched closer again, her knee scraping his as she placed both hands on his cheeks and pulled his face close to her. Wanting what she said next to be something special that he would remember the next time he felt like complaining. She took a deep breath before she spoke.

“I love you baby.” She whispered tenderly, watching as John’s expression change.

His breath hitched momentarily, his cheeks flushing almost instantly as he averted his eyes. Staring off to the side as he tried his hardest to act natural.

Abigail frowned.

“What?” She asked, confused by his reaction.

“No, nothing.” John said hurriedly, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. “Thank you.” He croaked, swallowing thickly and refusing to look her in the eye.

“Thank you?” She asked, pulling her hands away and giving him a once over.

“Love you too.” He muttered quickly, his hands coming to rest in his lap as he continued to look anywhere but her eyes.

Abigail’s eyes trailed from the flush on his cheeks to his hands in his lap. A smirk playing on her lips as she started to piece things together.

“Did you… Like that?” She asked softly, eyeing his badly concealed erection. John didn’t respond. His jaw clenching as he tried to compose himself. “You like being called baby?” She asked in a sultry tone.

John closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and refusing to engage with her. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been quite so embarrassed while he was alone with her. His body had betrayed him before. But nothing like this.

Abigail was smiling far too widely for the situation. She was grinning like an idiot as she leaned towards him. Taking advantage of the fact he refused to open his eyes and bringing her lips to his ear without his knowledge.

“Baby.” She whispered, making him jump and shiver violently. His eyes flew open and he looked to her with a panicked expression.

She was going to tell people.

Abigail studied the look on his face, feeling a little bad for playing with him like that. Lord knows she had her own kinks and he indulged them eagerly.

It just so happened that one of her favourite kinks was humiliation or more specifically, humiliating him.  

John knew this well and judging by the look on his face in that moment he was terrified of her getting her kicks using this newfound information.

“Don’t worry.” She chuckled, bringing her hand up to push his hair out of his face as she smiled at him cheekily. “Your secret’s safe with me, baby.”

“Stop.” John grumbled as sternly as he could.

“Come on John, you think you’re the first man I ever bedded with a Mommy Kink?” Abigail asked with a laugh, causing John’s eyes to widen in horror.

“I don’t have a Mommy Kink!” He exclaimed heatedly. “I just…” He stuttered. “I.. Sometimes I…” He trailed off, groaning in exasperation as he finally moved his hands from his lap and rubbed at his face irately.

“Like being my baby?” Abigail asked casually, shrugging as John exhaled forcefully.

“Stop.” He demanded gruffly. Danger in his eyes as he glared into hers. “It’s not… Like that.” He grunted. “I just, like the word.” He said, crossing his arms once more. “I guess.” He spat, shrugging and looking away.

Abigail hummed in reply, letting her hand trail lightly over his thigh as she thought. John fidgeted under her touch, desperately wanting to be mad at her.

“Is that why you always want to be the little spoon?” She asked after a moment, making John groan as he placed his head in his hands. “Or why you love it when I stroke your hair?” She asked, thinking out loud and making him whine.

“Please…” He sighed through his palms, begging her to let it go. He didn’t want this getting out. He didn’t even want her to know. The thought of the other guys finding out he loved to be babied made his blood run cold.

It was absolutely mortifying.

Abigail chuckled to herself, taking the hand that was on his thigh and letting it run through his hair. Her nails scratching at his scalp in just the way she knew he liked.  

They had been together a long time and during those long years John had only occasionally plucked up the courage to tell her about some of the things he liked. She always indulged him when he was brave enough to talk to her. But she was also well aware there were lots of things John thought about in the privacy of his own mind that she might never know about.

She never really understood his secrecy. She was an open book when it came to sex. He had known from day one who she was and what she liked. But she supposed a part of that came from her history as a prostitute. She couldn’t expect everyone to have the pluck that she had when it came to naming their kinks.

“You know you can talk to me about this stuff, right?” She asked after a long moment of silence. Her voice uncharacteristically soft as she brought her hand to his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “I guess I just don’t understand why you always keep your desires from me.” She said quietly, thinking out loud once more.

John swallowed audibly, tongue darting out to lick at his lips before he pulled his hands away from his face.

“I’m scared.” He said quietly. Shocking her. John was never one to admit his weakness if he could help it. She’d once seen him carry two sacks of rice over his shoulder with a broken ankle just to prove he didn’t need to rest.

Of course he’d spent the next 3 days in bed with his ankle swollen up to the size of a large grapefruit but he’d made his point.

“It’s okay to like things that are diff-” Abigail began, being cut off abruptly as John spoke.

“No.” He said firmly, his face serious. “I’m scared of you.” He clarified, making her balk.

“Wha-“ She began, being cut off again.

“I’m scared of you telling people about the things I like because you get off on it.” He hissed, looking away from her sadly. “You’ve done it before.” He reminded her. “I… I like being pushed around and told what to do, okay?” He asked, taking a tangential turn as he tried to gather his thoughts. “But I like it, because you like it and only when we’re alone. When you involve other people it makes me want to die.” He said strongly, making Abigail blink in surprise. She had no idea he felt that way. She was under the impression he was into the games they played.

“You always take the things I say in our arguments and throw them back at me when we’re fucking.” He snapped crudely. “You want to humiliate me. I get it. I’m okay with it… Mostly.” He swallowed, pursing his lips as he held out his hands like it would help him think. “But, sometimes you go too far and… fuck.” He whispered, feeling a burning behind his eyes and trying his hardest to ignore it. “I’m… having a hard time reminding myself that you don’t mean it.” He said softly. Trailing off as he lost his momentum. “I love you but I... I can’t trust you not to hurt me.” He said tiredly.

Abigail moved her hand from his shoulder, placing it in her own lap and thinking carefully before she spoke. She had an inkling that sometimes she pushed him too far. But she always figured that if he had a problem with it he would speak up.

He was always so confident and outspoken outside of sex. She never would have guessed that he would be too timid to tell her off if he didn’t like something.

“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, with a small shrug of her shoulders. “I had no idea.” She explained, knowing deep down that it didn’t help.

John eyed her suspiciously. It wasn’t like her to take responsibility so easily.

“Okay…” He replied after a moment. Unsure what to do now that she had simply agreed with him. If he was honest he had been expecting a blow-out fight.

“I thought you liked… everything.” Abigail said softly, not making eye contact as she spoke. “I’ll try to be a little more in-tune with what you want from now on.” She assured, placing her hand on his thigh and petting him softly.

“Okay.” John repeated, feeling silly for not being able to say anything else in the moment. He was still riding the high of letting out his feelings without a rebuttal.

“Maybe, we can come up with a word or something.” Abigail suggested with a shrug, making John frown.

“I guess.” He said bluntly, looking uncomfortable. He didn’t want to need a safe word. He didn’t want to come up with one just for him. He didn’t want to be weak.

Abigail followed his train of thought, feeling bad for him.

“There’s no shame in it, John.” She whispered, making him avert his eyes once more.

“Not for you.” He spat, a little more aggressively than he’d meant to. “You won’t be the one usin’ it.” He said, quieter.

“Sure I will.” She replied kindly. Trailing off and letting the silence fall over them as she tried to think of what to say next.

The day was getting on she had only intended to step away from Jack for a minute. Not to sit down for a proper heart to heart.

A small part of her was screaming that John needed her in this moment. But another was crying out that she needed to get away from him. Take time to process everything that was said so she could really take it to heart and prevent another fight in the future.

“Well anyways… It’s getting late and I want to check on Jack.” She said finally, trying to end the conversation as tastefully as she could.

“Okay.” John replied quietly. Not really sure what else to say. His chest felt weird and while the burning behind his eyes had dulled significantly; it was still there.

He swallowed thickly, staring at his hands as he waited for her to leave.

“So… No calling you baby?” Abigail asked with a chuckle, feeling the need to try and lighten the mood before she left.

“Well…” John said quickly, opening his mouth to speak but not finding the words. “I… I mean. Maybe.” He trailed off once more, his throat suddenly feeling very dry. “Maybe, maybe sometimes.” He sputtered. “Maybe when, you’re…” He paused, hands moving to his lap once more. “T-telling me what to do.” He stammered. A far cry from the confident, assertive man he had been during their fight, minutes earlier.

Abigail’s lips quirked as she looked him over once again.

“Alright.” She said softly, nodding. She really did want him to feel like he could tell her anything and if she was being totally honest, she definitely wanted to explore whatever this new kink of his was.

She figured if she played her cards right, she could be calling him a naughty boy and spanking him by the end of the week.

Once they’d worked out their safe-word of course.

She grinned lightly, trying to hide it as John gave her an incredulous look.

“Seriously?” He asked in exasperation.

“I’m sorry.” Abigail said as sincerely as she could manage before forcing herself to stand. She straightened her skirt with her palms before placing them on her hips and turning to him with the most serious face she could manage.

John blinked at her slowly, rolling his eyes.

“Go on.” He sighed, knowing full well she had something she wanted to say.

Abigail snorted, losing her composure and breaking into an all-out grin as she cackled.

“Well, Mumma’s gotta’ go get some breakfast.” She chortled as she walked outside and left him alone to regret getting out of bed.

 End.

~~~

Just to clarify I wouldn’t say John actually has a Mommy Kink per say, that was more Abigail teasing him. (not that there’s anything wrong with that, you do you as consenting adults) but he definitely does like being taken care of and babied in the privacy of his own tent/home. So do with that info what you will. ;)

Please let me know if you liked this/what you liked about it! I’m feeling a rush of motivation lately and would love to keep this streak going!! ❤

[i-may-be-stupit]

Shigaraki x Silly!Reader

As usual, this is rather gender-neutral and the horny got me because I fukn love Shiggy 🥵😍 but yeah, enjoy!

You typed up a report of the latest incident between Endeavor and the league of Villains. Well, actually, you were just editing your boss's writing. She was a journalist and you were her assistant. You rolled your eyes, reading through it and fixing any grammar mistakes or typos you came across. Why the hell is she making Endeavor seem so god damn perfect? I mean, when you first met him, you told the guy a joke and he hasn't stopped glaring at you ever since. You rolled your eyes at just the thought of that fuck-faced jackass.

Not only were you the editor, but you were also the secretary in the news office building which is a whole different job as it is. You blew a bubble from your gum and turned your music in your earbuds up a bit more, since the day was going slow. Yeah, there'd be a scoop here and there but not a lot.

You looked up to see a guy with red eyes and a black hoodie grinning evily while saying stuff to you. You just stared at him until he finished talking. He looked at you and you looked at him. You spat your gum in a tissue then took out your earbuds. You smiled softly at the man. "I'm sorry, you said you wanted a visitors' pass?"

The man looked at you with a blank stare at first. "You didn't hear anything I just said?" You shook your head. He frowned and tilted his head in annoyance, "I was talking for like 3 minutes straight." You just blinked. "I just explained my whole reasoning for kidnapping you for information on Endeavor."

You smiled at him, "Im sorry sir, I'm just the secretary, but the information desk is on floor three, just take that elevator to the right and-"

"What the fuck, bitch?!" He opened his arms wide in anger, "Do you not recognize me from the news?!"

You put a finger on your chin and tapped it in thought for a moment, before clicking your tongue and snapping your finger, "Ah, you must be a pro hero or something!" His jaw dropped. "Wow, no wonder youre so handsome!" You took the bottle of lotion out of your desk's drawer and offered him some. "If you're going on an interview you could use some of this though!" He glared at you before snapping his fingers, and thats when you found out who he is.

The entire League of villains showed up and your eyes widened in fear. The man known as Shigaraki Tomura laughed harshly with a gleam in his eyes, "Recognize me yet, (Y/N) (L/N)?!"

You stared at him again in fear. You then snorted, "Hank the handy man?" And thats when he lunged at you, only for Shigaraki to fall into one of Kurogiri's portals. You laughed with tears in your eyes as the burnt up goth boy snickered. Kurogiri elbowed Dabi and Dabi wiped away a bloody tear in his own eye as he held your arms behind your back.

Dabi chuckled quietly in your ear a small, "You gotta teach me some insults if you live." And you snorted as you consentualy walked into a portal, not even mad at being kidnapped.

You were in what seemed to be a lounge area, seated on a chair with your arms handcuffed to the back of you. You looked around, innocently smiling, "Wowie, nice place you guys got here!" Spinner looked at Dabi confused as you started humming. "So, uh, whatcha need me for?"

Mange spoke up, "Wait, how are you so calm about this?"

You chuckled, "Hey, this chair is comfy, I'm off from work now, and I got to see a cute guy up-close and personal!"

Dabi looked at you with a straight face. "No thank you."

You rose an eyebrow at him, "Dont flatter yourself, Rat, I'm talking about the one that tried to kill me." Shigaraki walked into the room, slightly pissed off as Kurogiri rubbed his back. "There he is! The handsome one!"

Shigaraki glared at you. "Don't patronize me." You were about to speak, but he cut you off before even getting the chance, "You're working with Yuki Ino, the Journalist who's been interviewing pro heros, including Endeavor." You nodded, not understanding if that was supposed to be taken as a question or not. "Tell me everything about what's happened to All Might, why he retired, and how to end Endeavor, including the Pro-heros' plans to take down my organization."

You stared at him for a good minute before sneezing, "Sorry, what did you say? I disasociated."

Shigaraki twitched before scratching his neck violently. "What do you know about the number 1 pro hero?!"

"What?!" You looked at him in utter confusion. "I cant even remember what I had for breakfast, how the fuck do you expect me to remember anything about Enslaver?"

The red eyed male scratched his neck faster. "Endeavor."

You looked in even more confusion, "What the fuck is that?"

Shigaraki pulled you by your shirt closer to him in pure anger, "His hero name! Its Endeavor, not Enslaver!"

You blushed and fluttered your lashes, "Wow, the way your crimson gems glisten even in such dim lighting is so mesmerizing..." You puckered your lips and moved forward, but Shigaraki just let go of your shirt in utter disgust.

"I dont speak Wattpad."

You smiled at him happily, "I mean, I know that I should be scared because you're hella intimidating, but geez louis, your eyes are pretty! If you don't end up killing me can I be your boo thang?" You grinned and thats when he lunged at wwnnaqqa again, only for Kurogiri to put himself in front of you, again, so Shigaraki just fell into his portal, again.

Kurogiri just quietly mumbled out a small, "Lets take a break." Before going to the bar and throwing back a shot of some alcohol.

Later:

Shigaraki crossed his arms in front of the League with you in another room. "She was trying to seduce me like a slut to get out of death! Playing with my emotions?! Like I'm an ,idiot?! How dare she?!"

rtserrr

Dabi sat back, watching as Toga practiced her knife throwing on Twice. The burt man shrugged nonchalauntly, "She seemed legit to me."

Toga and Twice both nodded with a little, "Mhm," as Toga threw a knife at an apple on Twice's head.

Shigaraki just frowned. "Have you people seen me?" They all stopped what they were doing, looked at their boss and then put their hands up to their faces while cringing.

Kurogiri walked in, dragging you in a chair behind him. He placed you right in front of Shigaraki and you smiled awkwardly at him, "Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, Mister Shigaraki, I just can't help myself when I see a cute guy like you, though!" You giggled and shrugged as Twice awed at the nonexistent budding romance.

Shigaraki looked at you with disgust and concern. "You seriously think that I'm cute?"

You tilted your head cutely with a small smile"That's why I asked you out, what the hell?" You chuckled softly and Shigaraki blushed with a frown as he stared at you.

He scratched at his neck, took a shot of alcohol and sighed. "Just tell me everything you know about Endavor, okay?"

You frowned deeply with a small groan, "Ugh! He's kinda a asshole! I told him "Good morning, Teletubby Sun" and he just glarred really hard at me!" You frowned and pouted before mumbling out a small, "I mean, it was just a joke..."

Shigaraki pinched the bridge of his nose in utter frustration while Dabi fucking died of laughter in the background, "Anything actually important?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Hey! That's totally important!"

A weak, hourse, "it is!" came from Dabi and you grinned.

"See, he gets it!"

He glared daggers into you and got closer to your face. "Do you not understand the danger you're in?" He snarled. "I can kill you right now if you dont submit."

You poked your lips out jokingly before giggling out, "I get it, but who's to say I don't wanna die?" You winked at him.

Shigaraki stared at you calmly, not leaving your goofy grin. "Everyone out of the room. Now." And everyone did as they were told and left, all praying for you.

Shigaraki silently cut your restraints and you started rubbing your wrists while smiling, "Thank you! You know, that was starting to hurt-"

He grabbed you by your hair and flung you onto the floor. The wind was knocked out of you and to make matters worse, he placed a foot on your chest, glarring down at you. "This isn't a game, you stupid fucking cunt." Shigaraki laughed darkly, seeing your jokester smile twist into a horrified grit as you struggled to breath. "I mean, are you dumb or something?! Your worthless life is on the line and you really couldn't care less?! "His hands covered his mouth, holding back another laugh, though you could hear it in his voice, "You're so fucking pathetic, I don't even feel like wasting my time killing you~!" He pushed his foot down harder.

You gasped for air, clawing at his foot to pry it off. "S-Shigaraki, sir-" A crack was echoed as he pushed his foot down harder on your now broken sternum. You scream out as tears fell from your face from the pain, "Please, p-please remove your f-foot..."

Shigaraki only laughed harder, cupping a hand over his cheek, ring finger raised, "Oh all of a sudden you care about your life, huh?" He straddled you, pinning you down with your wrists in one hand, and your neck in his other. "You think you can just flirt with me like the little slut you are and get off Scott free, huh?" You choked and Shigaraki drew closer to your ear, "Where's that attitude gone now, huh? Oh, can you not speak anymore? Tell me, please, how many dicks have you taken already. How the hell did you get a job," his face scrunched up in fury, "at a god damn Hero News agency without knowing shit about any heros, huh?! You probably slept with everyone there. Didnt you? Flirting with them to get what you want just like with me?"

Your face was hot and you were crying and choking at his words and actions, "N-No! That's not-" you gasped hard, unable to breath properly, "not me at all!"

Shigaraki loosened his grip on your neck. He glarred deep into your soul. "Then why the hell were you flirting with me back there? I'm not dumb, (Y/N), I'm a very fucking capable man!"

You smiled awkwardly, thankful that you could breath a little better. "I just think you're HANDsome!" Shigaraki's cheeks tinted pink as he glared at you. He let his grip go completely as you choked and coughed before looking up with a smile, "And this position... w-with you on top of me is really lewd, so can you maybe..." You trailed off as he just stared harder at you.

Shigaraki blinked, expressionless. "I'm pinning you down on the verge of killing you and the only think you can think of is getting fucked by me?" You looked away, struggling a bit with the feeling of awkwardness and arousal. He smirked, feeling your neck get hotter. "You really are a little fucking whore aren't you?" And with that, he softly kissed your lips.

Your face went hot as you looked up at him. "What was that for?" He kissed you again, this time longer. "S-shigaraki..." You pouted and looked away. "Theres something I should tell you..."

"Hm?" He tilted his head with a smirk, waiting for you to tell him that you're still a virgin.

"You shouldve taken my lotion earlier." You laughed out and he started choking you again. "Joking- J- Joking!" Shigaraki glarred down at you before tongue kissing you much more rough. You moaned as it thrashed against your tongue, saliva dripping out the side of your mouth. Shigaraki bit your lip softly before dragging his tongue down your chin and onto your neck. He licked and sucked on it as you bit your bottom lip. Tomura came back up and tongue kissed you for only a second before grabbing your shirt with all five fingers. You gasped and covered up your bra. "H-Hey! Gentlemen ask for permission first!" You frowned and he just grabbed you by your jaw.

He mocked you with a fake pouty voice, "Oh, that's my bad for not being a fucking gentleman. Can I pwease fuck you??" Tomura rolled his eyes, "Now shut the fuck up and let me suck on your nipples." Shigaraki's mouth immediately locked with your left nipple as his fingers played with your right. He laughed, hearing you softly mumble his name. His mouth left your chest with a small pop and he looked down at you with a smirk, "Dont be shy saying my name, (Y/N); I'm gonna need you to get used to screaming it anyways." And with that, he licked his lips then placed his tongue on your torso, dragging it all the way down to your work pants.

He decenigrated your pants and underwear happily. Shigaraki brought his face to your slit and took a hard lick, a finger shoving itself inside of your tight hole. You moaned loudly, confused. "Tomura, a warning next time!?" He just pumped his finger inside of you slowly as his tongue played with your privates. You moaned while holding his head down on you, your fingers twisted in his hair, as he sucked you off like a cherry. You panted heavily and he stuck another finger in you. Shigaraki then lifted his head off you.

"I'd warn you that time, but you're kind of suffocating me, so maybe, don't fucking push down so hard!" You frowned and just pushed his head back in between your thighs. He kissed and licked more, groaning whenever you'd thrust into his mouth deeper. Shigaraki chuckled at how you'd only get quiet when hes making you moan.

You shivered and groaned, coming closer and closer to your climax. Shigaraki noticed and immediately pulled off of you. He wipped his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed you by the hair. "Alright, slut, you've had your fun." He pulled you towards him and you fell on the floor, right in front of his groin. Tomura sat, grinned down at you with one leg up, "You gonna just stare or are you sucking me off?"

You rolled your eyes before pulling his pants and boxers down. Oh wow, you were not expecting this... You put a hand over your mouth and blushed hard. He was only semi hard and already a good 8 inches, what the hell?? It was thin, but long, kind of like the rest of him.

Shigaraki frowned down at you, blushing hard, "What? Is something wrong with it?? I-I've never done this before, asshole, so stop making me feel bad!"

You felt a smile rise onto your lips. Is he... getting flustered? You chuckled and looked up at him, pumping slowly, "It's just intimidating." You licked the tip and gulped, feeling a bit nervous, "But, I'll try to take it all in, okay?"

You placed your lips on his tip and suck it as your hands jerked him off. He groaned, grabbing your head with 4 fingers. You gradually took more and more into your mouth, using your hands for whatever didn't fit. You bobbed your head up and down on him, speeding up. Shigaraki groaned your name.

"F-Fuck, Y/N, you really know what you're doing!" He pressed his hand on the back of your head harder, forcing more of him into you. You gagged and choked as Tomura just laughed, "God, you're taking it all in like a good little sex slave, aren't you?" You moaned at the name and shigaraki shuttered, "Mm, your moans feel so fucking good on my cock!" He breathed harder, "Fuck, Y/N, I need you to touch yourself while sucking me." You brought your hand to your slit and rubbed at it, moaning. Shigaraki groaned, "Fuck, Just like that!"

You gagged and moaned on his dick, feeling it twitch in your mouth. A lewd little 'pop' echoed in the room as you let off. Shigaraki frowned and you gave him a cheeky grin, "No sticky icky for you!" He groaned in annoyance.

"God, why are you like this?!?" He grabbed your arm and threw you roughly on the bed. Before you knew it, Shigaraki was already inside of you. Your face went hot as he fucked you doggy style.

You screamed, "A warning!!! We've been over this!!!" He responded with a slap on your ass.

Tomura rode your ass, grinding into you and groaning while doing it. "Fuck off, Y/N, you're a horny mess just like me, dumbass!" You screamed his name as his thrusts became faster and deeper. Shigaraki pulled both of your wrists back and down, making you kneel, your back pressed against his chest as he fucked into you. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight..." Shigaraki sloppily kissed your neck. You breathed harder as his dick hit the spot over and over. Shigaraki flipped you over onto your back. You laid underneath him as he paused. Tomura blushed harder and looked away, "I-I wanna really savor this..." he smirked, glaring in your eyes, "Plus I wanna know what you look like, full of my cum!"

You were flustered and giggling, "Its the ✨mood switch✨ for me-"

Tomura placed a hand over your mouth, "No. You just lost your speaking privileges."

Shigaraki grinded into you slowly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool seeped from your lips. Shigaraki held your waist, pulling you whenever he's press himself deep inside of you. You were speechless from the pleasure. You moaned and whined as his body slowly moved with yours.

You pressed the back of your hand to your face, feeling a bit embarrassed at the change of atmosphere. It was so easy to just enjoy him fucking you silly and laughing and everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel any other emotion rather than pleasure muxed in with something new.

Shigaraki placed his forehead against yours and breathed harder, "I-I'm getting there, Y/N..." He let out a breathy moan and your legs shaked. Tomura kissed you softly as well. "A-Ah, you're almost there t-too, right?"

You nodded, feeling a knot in your stomach. You moaned and Shigaraki pulled out, cumming all over you. You moaned, climaxing too.

You were covered in cum and panting. You couldn't even find words to say. It just felt so good. Shigaraki cuddled up to you. He smiled and kissed your cheek. "I'm giving you your speaking privileges back now." You stayed silent, your face hot. It was hard for you to be serious, but God damn. Tomura looked at you a bit concerned, "You okay-"

"That was amazing."

He looked surprised before laughing hard. "Did I really leave you speechless?" You nodded, silently. Shigaraki kissed your lips, "That sucks because, even though you're annoying, I kinda like you."

Your eyes widened. He liked your jokes and stupid comments?! Your mouth became ajar. "I-I..." You just closed your mouth, staring at him.

Shigaraki placed his arm over you. He smiled, "Lets hang out tomorrow."

You smiled back.

[mandadoration]

you’re a fine girl - i

summary: Agent Whiskey would really like you to say his real name for once, and you refuse, playing this little game of his until he finally makes you say it. The circumstances for it aren’t exactly ideal, though. 

word count: 3, 758

pairing: agent whiskey (Jack Daniels) x reader

warnings: canon-typical violence (and then some), swearing

a/n: Don’t ask me how the layout of Statesman HQ works. I really don’t know, and I’ve watched the movie to try and glean some more info, but I’ve decided, like many things, to bullshit it. This will have a predetermined length of three chapters!

chapters: i 

Read this on AO3

You think it’s hilarious just how stereotypically American the Statesman agency was. Besides the front of it, a Bourbon whiskey distillery that just happens to have racehorses (you never understood that part) on a large expanse of land and have a large influence on the liquor industry all over the US, the agents that were a part of it were just so in-your-face full-blooded American. Hell, even your equipment reflected that, with electric lassos and souped-up sawed-off double barrel shotguns, to cowboy boots with razor sharp spurs and Stetsons designed for stealth and espionage. Statesman was 100% committed to proudly showing off their roots. But you couldn’t really shit on them too much since you were one of their agents as well. That would be severely discrediting you and the work you do.

Even if some of the agents teasingly call you a city-slicker. 

Although you were a Statesman through and through like your mother before you, you had been raised on the less… southern half of the country because of where she was mainly stationed. Good ol’ New York was a whole different territory than Kentucky. She had still made sure you kept up with your training and be ready at a moment’s notice to take over for her. Statesman were proud of their line of agents, names often passed down from parent to child. Built in loyalty, you supposed, and a good way to keep an eye on those who knew secrets. As the world expanded and keeping the peace grew harder by the minute, they’ve strayed far from that tradition, and the organization grew to include people that had no prior connection to it. Your mom had been insistent she at least stay true to that part of Statesman, and often showed you how to watch over New York from the high rise building to groom you for the position in the future until you graduated from your unofficial codename of Ice Tea. But you had moved south to live on a small ranch a few miles from the distillery after she had died on a recon mission instead of staying up north in the concrete jungle. You inherited her position and her moniker as Agent Brandy, supervisor of the intelligence part of the agency and relocating to home base at the same time, but Agent Whiskey had taken up position up in New York in your stead. 

Speaking of Whiskey, there he was, sauntering up to you with a smile playing on his lips as you flicked through reports on your tablet. You spare him a quick glance and a polite smile before you turn your attention back to the reports and mission debriefs, hoping that was enough to leave you alone, but instead he leans against your desk and crosses his arms, and you try your damndest not to look at how his arms make the seams on his jacket strain.

There’s no animosity between you and Whiskey at all, and you’ve said as much when Champagne informed him he would be taking over the New York territory instead of you. You didn’t feel guilty or mad or anything really that you decided to move closer to Statesman because it was your choice, and Whiskey had taken it in stride. You two were just doing your jobs, and that was all. You would even go to say that you were close friends with him, giving him pointers about the secrets of New York while he told you all the gossip about the other agents. The work he did would make your mother proud. 

But why was he so insistent on hanging around at the Statesman headquarters in Kentucky so much?

“Your mission debrief isn’t scheduled until Tuesday, Agent Whiskey,” you say, eyes roving over your calendar before swiftly swiping it off your screen to pay closer attention to Tequila’s report. That man was awful with writing. Did he even have the spell check on? You click your tongue and run the editing software, intent on letting that run in the background while you browsed through various agent requests (there was Gin asking if you could fashion a 200 proof liquor), but Whiskey puts a hand on your tablet and pushes it out of your view. 

“I know, sugar,” he says in that damn Southern accent that manages to make your ears burn. “Just thought I’d come down here to see my favorite intelligence supervisor.” You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that threatens to split your face. You turn your tablet off and put it down.

“Do you know many intelligence supervisors?” you ask, but your efforts to get him to leave are already an afterthought at the back of your mind. Every time you hold a conversation with him, the amalgamation of your New York and Southern accent sounds crass compared to the honeyed drawl of Whiskey. Two completely different regions. You suppose he might feel the same whenever he’s in New York. Perhaps you two had more in common than you had initially thought. 

You’re off track. It’s maddening how easily he is able to pull a smile or a laugh from you and completely derail you. Even on the worst of your days, he’s able to ease you with just a reassuring smile or touch. Whiskey shrugs and shifts where he sits. 

“You got me there,” he laughs. “But that don’t mean I can’t come see you, does it?” You rest your chin on your hand as you fiddle with your tablet pen. He’s trimmed his mustache, you note.

“I suppose it doesn’t, Agent Whiskey,” you say. Anytime he flies over to the Statesman HQ, you usually see him the same day he lands, if not, you’re the first thing he goes to see. It’s sweet. 

“What does it take for me to convince you to call me Jack, sweetheart?” Whiskey asks, nearly whines, really. He’s been insisting you call him by his real name in private recently, insisting that you were far past those formalities. 

“When you stop calling me those pet names of yours,” you retort back. He looks mock-offended. 

“That’s never gonna happen,” Whiskey says. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Then there you have your answer,” you say simply, and go to pick up your tablet again when it chimes, but Whiskey stops you and pushes it back down flat against the desk. 

“You work too much,” he says, as if that was a decent enough reason to interrupt your work. “Pay some attention to me instead.”

“And I’m starting to think you don’t work enough,” you sigh, and slide the tablet out from under his hand and you turn it back on and check over the editing software. “God knows you spend enough time pestering me.” You don’t tell him that you don’t mind. In the hectic pace in your lives, Whiskey is a nice constant that you find yourself falling back on. 

The software has managed to fix most of the typos and obvious grammar issues, but it’s mangled the nuances of Tequila’s informal writing. You sigh again and swipe the report onto your computer screen to manually edit it before you can send it to Champagne. Whiskey hops off of your desk, and he walks around it to lean over your shoulder to skim the report as well. 

He’s close enough for you to smell his cologne. Smoky, mellow, and warm. 

“Why don’t you just send that off to Ginger to edit? Or Soda?” he asks, voice rumbling in your ear. “‘m sure you have other things to do other than grade Tequila’s piss poor work.” You clear your throat and try your best not to become too distracted. 

“They don’t have high enough clearance to read this report,” you answer. “Nor do I think they have the patience to. Besides, Ginger is tech and Soda is medical. They’d either shoot themselves or shoot me.” Whiskey laughs and leans in a little closer. 

“But I have the clearance to read this as you edit?” he asks, voice low. “You flatter me, Brandy.” You blink, then gasp, whirling around in your chair and narrowly missing clipping his chin with the back of your chair as you push him away from you and back around your desk, smacking him as you do.

“You are a menace!” you exclaim. Whiskey just laughs, humoring you and letting you push him when it would be frightfully easy to just stand there. He blocks your hits and eventually grabs a hold of your wrists to stop you. 

“You love it,” he says, and your face flushes as you try to scowl at him. 

“Get out of my office so I can finish this report,” you order, pointing at the door. Whiskey pouts, but makes his way to the door. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he sighs. He tips his hat at you. “You be a good girl while I’m gone, sweet thing,” he says in a sing-song voice, and the door clicks shut behind him before you can do some serious bodily harm to his person. 

---

You don’t really know what constitutes being “a good girl”, and you don’t really have the chance to find out because you meet with Whiskey again a few hours after he had barged into your office when Champagne calls you up to discuss some technicalities that he had remained vague on.

It’s a short underground tube ride to the Statesman office building a few miles outside the distillery, and an even shorter elevator up to the top floor. Whiskey is already there when you walk in, so you go ahead and take a seat across from him, pulling up your notes in case anything important pops up. You give him a small wave, and he tips his hat at you with a smile. You turn to the man sitting at the head of the table.

“Well, Champ,” Whiskey says, “why’d you call us here?” Champagne fiddles with the lid of a decanter of whiskey before he smacks his lips together and leans back in his chair. 

“Statesman is considering adding another location in California, and I need your expertise,” he announces. He motions to you. “Sent the plans to your tablet, Brandy, but here’s the gist.” The t.v. screen at the other end of the table switches from Statesman stocks to a blueprint of a high rise located in San Francisco, alongside some smaller buildings scattered over the city. “I’m planning on sending Chardonnay over to oversee construction, but this is only the third location to be located in such a large city.” You skim over the notes. Although they wouldn’t be building a distillery, there would be a sub-HQ over there, as well as some Statesman-sponsored bars to keep up surveillance. “The first one being New York, and the other in Nevada.”

“Is there something we should keep an eye on?” you ask, scrolling through various material requests. While the other could handle the usual materials, you would have to put in a special order for the military grade stuff. “What’s the occasion?” Champagne shrugs when you glance over your tablet. 

“It’s been something I’ve been thinking about,” he says. “Stocks are doing good, and there's no looming threat- seems like a good time as any.” You nod. 

“Then why us?” Whiskey asks. “I think Brandy is more than capable of handling this herself.” Champagne furrows his brows. 

“You are in charge of our New York office, aren’t you?” 

“Brandy grew up preparing to take over for it,” Whiskey says. 

“Well--”

“He’s right, sir,” you pipe in. “Whiskey’s about to go in for a mission anyways. There’s no point loading his already full plate. I can handle it.” Champagne presses his mouth in a hard line, but eventually taps the table. 

“Alright then. Brandy, I’ll let Chardonnay know you’ll be taking part in it so he can refer to you with questions. Agents, you’re dismissed.”

Whiskey moves for the door, but pauses when you don’t follow him. You wave him off. “I’ll catch up with you; just need to talk to Champagne about something.” He nods, and leaves. You back around to face Champagne with narrowed eyes. “What are you up to, old man?” He tilts his head and pours some whiskey into his glass. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Bringing Whiskey into this,” you clarify. “You know I can handle this project by myself; why try to rope him in?”

“Thought it be a good experience,” Champagne says, taking a sip and swishing it around his mouth before he turns to spit it out into the spitoon. You wrinkle your nose. 

“For Whiskey?”

“For the both of you,” he corrects. “Whiskey gets to learn more about the technical aspects, you get to, well, spend time with him.” You raise an eyebrow.

“And I want to spend time with him because…?” 

“Don’t you know?” Champagne asks. You shake your head. 

“What? We’re good friends, but we’ve got different jobs,” you say. “So I don’t see a reason why I should be spending time with him outside of what’s necessary.” Champagne just hums with a pensive look on his face. 

“Alright then, girl.” He waves a hand at you. “Off to work.” And Champagne doesn’t elaborate any further. 

---

You are far too busy trying to sort out the semantics of some sort of stirrings of a coup on a Chilean website to go and debrief Whiskey when Tuesday rolls around, so you send Ginger in your stead. She accepts without complaint, but you can see how she frowns when you tell her so. You’ve never gotten the details as to why the two never seem to get along, but Ginger is the most capable person you can think of to take care of things when you’re not able to. 

It takes you a solid 45 minutes to try and go through the Chilean Spanish compared to the Castilian variant you know, but you determine that the rumors of a coup bears no real weight and all it is are empty threats despite the traction it’s gained so far. You suppose you could’ve run the translation, but there were too many nuances and codes that couldn’t be translated over. Just to be sure, you set up a surveillance bot to continue to track the progress and alert you if anything significant happens. By the time you do, Ginger walks in, looking a little frazzled. You frown. “You good, Liz?” Ginger just puts down the debrief folder on your desk as she plops down in the chair across from you. You raise an eyebrow, but slide the folder over and survey the notes she’s taken during the debrief. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just Whiskey complaining that he has to fly to Spain to deal with some black market firearms dealers that have gotten too confident. Apparently last time he was there, some sailors tried to swindle him. There’s some quotes of his with choice words in the margins saying so, accompanied by a doodle of him with an angry expression. “Whiskey give you a hard time?” you guess. She nods and takes off her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. 

“I honestly don’t understand how you can stand him sometimes,” she says. You shrug. 

“He treats me fine, if not a little persistent,” you note mildly. Ginger snorts and puts her glasses back on. “Hasn’t given me a reason to dislike him. Yet.”

“That’s ‘cause he likes you,” she says. Your stomach flutters at her comment. Then after a moment of pondering, Ginger says, “Think he was in a bad mood because you weren’t the one debriefing him.” You frown. 

“Would it have mattered if I did?” you ask. “You’re perfectly capable.” 

“It’s not capability,” Ginger sighs, leaning forward and resting her forearms on your desk. The motion jostles the cup of pens on your desk and you reach to adjust it back to its place. You click a few things on your computer to pull up the flight details for Whiskey. Scheduled for 5:50pm, an overnight flight that lands in a remote location in Madrid where then he would be promptly escorted to Andalucia. 

You wonder if he’ll come visit you before he leaves. 

You shake the thought out of your head before you go back to look at Ginger, who’s looking at you curiously. “If not capability, then what?” you ask, fighting to keep down the blush that’s threatening to overtake your face.

“You really don’t know?” she asks, almost critically. You furrow your brows. There’s that question again. 

“Is there something I should know?”

Before Ginger can answer, a knock resounds at your door. You give Ginger an apologetic look before you call out, “Come in!” You don’t know why you’re surprised, but it’s Whiskey, again, with a bright smile on his face before his eyes darken at the sight of Ginger. She bristles.

“I’ll see you later,” she says, reaching over and giving your hand a small pat before she gets up to brush past Whiskey, and she closes the door behind you. Whiskey seems to relax at that, and takes the seat she was in. 

“If you’re here to complain about going to Spain, Agent Whiskey, I can’t do anything about it,” you immediately say before he can get a word in. He takes off his hat and puts it on your desk, running a hand through his hair. 

“I wasn’t here to complain,” Whiskey says, chuckling. “You wound me, Brandy.” He puts a hand over his heart and stares at you with a woefully sad face, looking at you with big, warm brown eyes, akin to a kicked puppy. “Missed my favorite intelligence supervisor at the debriefing.” You throw a pen at him, but he just catches it and puts it in with the rest without breaking eye contact. 

“Doubt you’re here just to see me,” you say. “Shouldn’t you be packing for your flight?”

“I’ve got time,” Whiskey says. “If I remember correctly, it’s not until 6:00. Gives me a little under 2 hours until I gotta leave.”

“5:50,” you correct him automatically. “So less than that. You’ll wanna leave in an hour or so to account for traffic.” The grin that spreads across his face makes your heart beat a little faster. 

“You keepin’ track of when I’m ‘bout to leave?” he purrs, leaning forward. You scoff, but think in the back of your mind that there’s some truth to that. 

“I’m the one that booked your flight with Triple Sec,” you say dryly. “Be weird if I didn’t know what time exactly, Agent Whiskey.” Whiskey hums, but leans back in his chair and spreads his legs in an almost obscene matter that leaves you thrumming in your skin. 

“Jack,” he says.

“Hm?”

“My name is Jack.” You laugh. 

“I know what your name is, Agent,” you say. “It’s kinda my job to know everybody. Feel like we’ve already talked about this about a million times by now.” 

“Still, it’d be nice to hear you say it,” he says, almost absentmindedly as he picks at his nails, brows furrowed in a vulnerable expression. Your face falls at his soft tone. To be honest, your refusal to say his name was more because you perceived it as a game. Whiskey would press you to actually call him by his name, and you would coyly refuse, and he would leave with a promise that he would get you to say it one way or another. But something is clearly bugging him. 

You reach a hand forward, towards him, touching the other edge of your desk. Close enough for him to reach for it. His gaze snaps to your hand, and something tells you that Whiskey wants to. There is some kind of longing in his eyes that the firm, hard line of his mouth is trying its hardest not to betray. “You okay?” Whiskey’s fingers twitch. Something holds him back. 

He clears his voice, forcing a smile on his face, and the moment is broken. “Right as rain, sugar,” he says. “Pre-mission jitters, I suppose.” You suppose that’s not totally unwarranted. Whiskey would be going on into the field on his own due to the delicacy of the mission, the only backup available being Triple Sec piloting the plane. And, well, Whiskey didn’t exactly blend in with the typical Madrid population with his loud voice and louder personality. Statesman didn’t have a base out in Europe either. You give him a reassuring smile, and you try not to think too hard at how the tension seems to melt out of him at that. 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” you soothe. You retract your hand, and honestly at this point it seems as though Agent Whiskey has taken up permanent residence in your mind because you swear you spot some sort of deep emotion as his eyes trail after it. “Just like you always do, Whiskey.” The muscles in Whiskey’s jaw work as he clenches his teeth together before he claps his hands and stands up, that same charming smile on his face but not quite reaching his eyes. 

“Well I suppose that is some improvement!” he says. You tilt your head. 

“What do you mean?” Whiskey pulls the flask off his belt and takes a swig. 

“Got you to say my codename without all the preamble, now, didn’t I?” he says, winking at you. You stammer and flush red with embarrassment. He holds up his hands in surrender. “Now before you start wailing on me like last time,” he says, “I’ll see myself out. Like you said, I still need to pack. I’ll see if I can bring back a souvenir for you while I’m across the pond.” You cross your arms. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Whiskey shrugs and heads for the door. 

“Can’t stop me, can you?” You smile at him. 

“Guess not,” you say, almost to yourself, then your gaze falls to his hat still sitting on your desk. “Wait, Whiskey, your--” He holds up a hand. 

“Hold on to it while I’m gone, ‘kay?” he asks. You nod. “Good girl. Give me something to look forward to when I come back.” You make a motion to grab a pen, bursting out laughing when he moves to catch it when you feign a throw. He smiles, too, more genuinely this time. “See you in a couple days, darling.”

And you can’t help but start to miss him when the door clicks shut behind him. 

---

Forever Tag: @mabelleen​ @mando-vibes​ @isaissafail @adikaofmandalore

[nona-gay-simus-main]

How To Collect and Organize Beta Reader Feedback

As some of you might know, I previously wrote a full draft of my currently untitled m/m romance novel and got through an almost full round of beta readers before I decided to scrap it and start again, nearly from scratch and with a different premise (It went from two timelines - first love/second chance to a single timeline - enemies to lovers).

Out of nowhere, I decided to start rereading and reorganizing my feedback in hopes to find something that would be useful to me in my current draft. Originally, I just planned to delete everything that wasn’t relevant, but a lot of it was really cute and funny, and I mean, I did write a full book - even if it wasn’t all that good - I at least deserve to keep my feedback from it.

Before I went on this endeavor, I foolishly believed that there’s no wrong way to collect beta feedback and boy, oh boy was I wrong! So I’m here to tell you the wrong ways and the right way. But first, let’s revise our terms:

What is a Beta Reader?

Beta readers are readers, who would be interested in picking your book off the shelf if it were already published. That means you should already have a pretty good idea of what is your genre and age category is. There’s no such thing as a ‘fiction book for everyone’. While certain books might have broader appeal, all books have a target audience. So figure out yours. 

The reason to know this from the start is two-fold. First, obviously to know how and where to market your book. Second, different genres come with different expectations and you really don’t want to piss off your core readership. You’re not going to be able to please everyone, and if you try, you’re likely to end up pleasing no one. So while it’s definitely a good idea to look for diversity in your beta readers, you should probably not be looking for genre diversity. 

I’m gonna let you in a little secret: for the longest time, I had no idea I was writing a romance novel. Part of it was that I really just hadn’t read a contemporary queer romance, so subconsciously thought that (contemporary) romance was for the straights only. But the bigger part was that my story just wasn’t well structured so I had no idea what the main conflict was supposed to be. And let’s just say... that didn’t exactly do me any favors when I was trying to get people interested in reading it. You can’t really amp others up about a project if you don’t know what the project is about.

Not only that, but I had a cp/beta reader who while wonderful, wasn’t a romance fan, so there were several points where I felt frustrated with their critique because I felt they simply didn’t like certain conventions of the genre. And that’s not their fault - we were just not a great match. Still appreciate working with them, but I know better now.

Where to find Beta readers?

You can find them anywhere. Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook groups, Discord servers and so on. Just look around. I assume you’re writing your story because you want to read something like it, and if you want to read it, someone else probably wants to read it too.

How to collect Beta feedback?

I normally use Google Docs or sometimes Word. Chapter by chapter is definitely best. It’s much less overwhelming to try to read 10 pages than 210.  Copy/Paste the chapter in a new document and send it to the beta, after warning them for any triggers or squicks that might apply. 

If you’re using Word, send the document over email. If you’re using Google Docs, share it with their email. Make sure to share it through email and not create links (like me), because it’s much safer that way. If you share it, only the person with the access to the email can see it, if you make a link, anyone with the link can see it. Again chances of plagiarism are minuscule, but still.

On Google Docs you want to give them Comment permission. That way they can make comments in the margins and any edits they make will show up like Track Changes on Word. If they are using Word and making edits, simply encourage them to turn on Track Changes. 

Encourage betas to make comments while reading, on everything that they liked, disliked, found confusing, or anything that made any impression at all. Even if’s just ‘lol’ or a keyboard smash. Sometimes those are the best comments to read!

But also keep in mind that not everyone will do that. That’s why I always have a questionnaire or do an interview with the beta. Questions tend to prompt people into organizing their thoughts a bit. Because I’m nice, I’ll share my questionnaire with you, (it is actually an adjusted version of @jennamoreci​‘s questionnaire from her beta readers video here:

1. What is your overall opinion of the chapter? 

2. What do you think of x character ? 

3. What is your favorite scene/part/line and why? (You can pick more than one.)

4. What is your least favorite scene/part/line and why? (You can pick more than one.) 

5. Are any parts confusing or unclear? 

6. Do you think there’s anything specific I need to improve or fix in the chapter, whether it’s the writing, the charters, plot, setting, etc.? 

7. On a scale of 1 to 10, how much did you enjoy the chapter? 

8. On a scale of 1 to 10, how eager are you to read the next chapter? 

9. On a scale of 1 to 10, how much are you enjoying the book so far (not applicable to chapter 1)?

10. Do you have any predictions? 

12. Do you have any other comments, thoughts, suggestions, or advice?

You can also add questions specific to the chapter, especially if you are already worried about a particular aspect of it. You should also ask their opinion on every character who shows up in the chapter.

I prefer to put this questionnaire at the end of the document I send to my beta reader, that way I’m sure they won’t be accidentally spoiling something with my questions and they can go over it right after reading instead of waiting for our schedules to match so we can have an interview. It’s a bit of a copy-pasting game, sure, but ultimately it takes no more than a couple of minutes. I would discourage you from having the questionnaire in the same document you are writing because it might end up messing with your word count, and lie to you that you’ve written more words than you actually have.

Afterward, if you need any clarifications on their answers, message the beta on their preferred platform - for me, that’s usually Discord, sometimes Twitter or Tumblr - to ask for clarifications. Sometimes you can also explain what you were going for, especially if the beta had a question, but don’t overdo it. You don’t want to seem argumentative. 

Oh, and be sure to thank your beta readers. Don’t forget they are giving up their time to help you for free. Nothing annoys me more from a beta reader perspective, then to not receive even a form thank you. 

How to Organize Beta Feedback?

So this is the big one. After you receive your beta feedback, address all the small things you can like typos and grammar right away (unless you’re already pretty sure you’ll be deleting/rewriting the scene) and mark stuff, that they’ve pointed out is badly phrased, etc. for later. Then delete irrelevant feedback, like one-word answers or ‘no opinion’. The feedback you disagree with might be unpleasant to read, but that doesn’t make it irrelevant. And if something makes you really mad, chances are it’s something you probably need to work on.

Then copy all the feedback - every comment and every answer, even if you disagree with them - into a separate document organized BY CHAPTER, not by beta name. This was the mistake I made. You’ll need this feedback when you move on to revision and you really don’t want to have a million tabs or documents open. Аlso it’s much easier to spot patterns if everything is in the same place. And if several people are saying the same thing, that’s probably something to pay attention to. 

Oh, don’t play around with fonts too much. I make everything the same font, but at first, I tried to make it really distinguished between what quote from the manuscript the beta was responding to and the beta’s own words, and honestly, you wrote your book, you know it pretty well. 99.9% of the time you can easily tell what they were responding to and what’s a quote from the book and what is the beta’s own words.

Good luck on your beta journey!

[thatlittledandere]

1, 2, 3, 13, 14, 21, 24, 37, 38 and 39 for those writer questions. (Sorry for being so many at once I'm just curious)

fic writer’s meme

1, 2 and 3 already answered!

13.  What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

You don’t need to write scenes chronologically! Changed my life.

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Those lists of words to use instead of “said” FUCK that. Also my high school Finnish teacher pissed me off, like, in general. And we didn’t even really WRITE fiction.

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

...Do I revise? *checks the definition of the word* Yeah it’s possible I don’t exactly “revise” after a fic is complete. Of course every time I open it to edit it or continue I go through what I already have and make alterations, but if all of that counted for this, it would be like asking “how many sessions does it take to write a fic” which is impossible to answer as it can range from one to dozens, even with oneshots. After I finish the last scene I post it and return to it, like, two days later to fix the typos lol

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Nope.

37. Talk about your current wips.

Uuuuh I have WAY TOO MANY unfinished ones to mention and I’m not even sure which ones I’ve abandoned for good and which ones I’ll finish one day... But I started and two fics for Souyo week and I’m still PRETTY determined to finish them! 

One was... more of a vague idea than an actual plot, which is why I stagnated. But it’s my personal headcanon that while the seeds for Yosuke’s attraction to Yu were sown while rescuing Yukiko, Kanji’s dungeon is where Yosuke first started to... start to be somewhat almost aware of it. Like that’s where he had the first butterflies and/or the “wait a second” double take that he adamantly refused to acknowledge. And yeah that was supposed to be the fic for the Fog prompt because, uuh, steam is almost like fog, right? Yes I know what words mean

The second one was for the Stormy prompt. I made the storm more of a mood than a weather condition because I’m pretentious like that, and it was an argument fic. But then it spiraled out of control when more and more narrators kept forcing their way in and I got a case of bad conscience bc the reason for their argument was Yosuke’s internalized homophobia that he still wasn’t completely over and idk suddenly I started feeling guilty for exploring it constantly;; Like I haven’t even WRITTEN anything with that trope/headcanon yet but it’s always on my mind and it kinda feels like it’s all I can think or write about and like I’m somehow making light of other people’s trauma and yeah I’ll stop typing now

*clears throat* ANYWAY! I may or may not finish these one day.

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

I feel awkward naming names sdsfsdgf but this one time I felt a fic came out really forced and then one of my favorite authors commented that it “flowed naturally” and I was so happy I showed it to my mom lol. And my April Fools mistake got a really long comment picking apart scenes and lines I had already forgotten writing by that point (next day, but I wrote it in a real frenzy). Oh and someone commented on one of my stupid joke fics that “the plot is actually really good” and yea... I think about it a lot.

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

Luckily I haven’t gotten any!

[black-winged-pippa]

I haven’t watched Ashes of Love in over a year. I reported this shit back then, and it’s still got this bullshit. The entire series is full of typos, mistranslations, grammar that would make a middleschooler cry, and way too many Western mottos that ruin the immersion. But this? This?! How do you miss removing an editing note?! This is in the middle of a sentence! Every time I see it, I have to scrub back 10 seconds to reread the dialogue so that I don’t get lost. What the actual fuck, Netflix? It pissed me off the first time, and it enrages me now, knowing that it has never been fixed.

[mymidsummersunshine]

Dance In The Moonlight

Me? Writing yet another soft Grzork drabble? It’s exactly as likely as you think

Senior Prom AU thanks to @mellerbees. Written on mobile and barely edited so I apologize for any typos!

Title taken from The Yacht Club by Owl City

—

It’s a bittersweet feeling, senior prom. It’s a celebration, an occasion to get dressed up and have a fancy dinner and dance, a right you earn after suffering through four years of high school; but it’s also a goodbye. It symbolizes the end of everything Matt knows. Graduation is in just a couple weeks, and then college after that, and he has no idea what’s coming.

In all honesty he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to go to prom. He didn’t have a date (though not for lack of trying - he didn’t do a big promposal (thankfully), and Julie was very nice when she turned him down, but the whole thing was still pretty embarrassing). He did, however, have a great group of friends to go with, and he didn’t want to regret not going in the future. So he rented a tux, fixed his hair, and headed over to Charlie’s house for pictures, before they all headed to the venue together.

He doesn’t have any regrets about coming at all. The food is delicious, the music is good, and he even dances a bit. He’s doing fine until the DJ puts on a slow song.

Most of his other friends are paired off, so he heads back to their dinner table to watch from the sidelines. He takes the moment to observe and get lost in his own thoughts. It suddenly hits him that this is all ending in just a couple weeks. His friends are all going to different colleges, and though some of them will still be in Boston, it won’t be the same. They won’t see each other every day in the cafeteria, playing table football and other shenanigans that only get the teachers slightly pissed off at them. They won’t spend hours into the night working on group projects, but pull off A’s in the end. They’ve promised to try to keep regular video game nights a thing, but there’s no guarantee, and Matt knows this. It’s all a little too overwhelming. He stands up to go outside for some fresh air, not noticing the person following him.

He’s on the patio off the banquet hall for all of fifteen seconds before he notices, and jumps a mile in the air.

“Jesus, Anders, you scared the crap out of me.”

Anders grins. “Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Matt nods once, before changing his mind and shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I don’t know if I’m okay. It’s a lot to take in.”

Anders nods. “It is.”

They’re silent for another couple seconds before Anders steps forward and offers his hand, bowing slightly.

“What are you -”

“Dance with me?”

Matt contemplates, then gently takes his hand. Anders smiles as he pulls him closer, wrapping his other arm around Matt’s waist, with Matt’s other hand on his shoulder. They sway back and forth a few times in rhythm to the music, slightly muffled from being outside but still audible.

“Loosen up, man,” Anders says quietly. “What are you so tense for?”

Matt takes a deep breath and tries to relax as much as possible, letting Anders guide him across the patio. He stumbles over his own feet once, but Anders catches him.

“There you go, I’ve got you.”

And Matt knows he does. He’s had him since freshman year when he moved from Wisconsin. He’s had his back every time he failed a test, every time he had a bad hockey game, every time he didn’t feel like he was good enough, Anders was the one he trusted. The one he knew would be there for him no matter what to make him feel loved.

The song ends, and they stop moving, but they still hold onto each other. There’s a glimmer in Anders’ eyes, and as much as Matt hates eye contact, he finds he doesn’t want to look away.

“I love you,” he says before he can regret it.

“I love you, too.”

The kiss is short and soft, but it’s everything. Matt pulls back first, and Anders is smiling back at him.

“You ready to go back in?” Anders asks.

Matt threads their hands together and nods. “I’m ready for the rest of our lives.”

[stratsandwhiskeywritestuff]

Q+A With Strats and Whiskey!

We held a brief Q+A over on our Twitter, and had some awesome questions come in! We’ll post em here too for everyone to see. Have questions for us too? Hit us up on Twitter or in our ask box :D we’d love to hear from you!

Questions include asking us about the collaborative process, about writing kink together, the trust that takes, what characters we love writing most and our thoughts on writing in general!

PaleGlimmer: I asked about collab writing because I have no idea how you make it work.

WHISKEY: I’ve been collaborating on stories since I got into Hannibal. For me, it started as an offshoot of online RP. If you go back far enough you can see that, because the writing is stilted and jumpy, and you can tell that two people are writing. I’ve had three major collab partners in my fandom life and after a time our “voices” and styles start to gel and it becomes more seamless. That, for me, means that’s the right partner to write with, because you start taking on their mannerisms and descriptions, and they take on yours, and people can’t tell (or can tell very vaguely) that two people wrote a story.

As for technicalities, we just “tag” each other with part of the story for the other to continue it. Sometimes it’s short tags, dialogue, or brief descriptions, other times we get carried away (in the best way possible) and end up writing 6k a day. With Strats and I, we started with preferential characters and usually tagged for just them, but now we cover everything and everyone in our tags.

STRATS: Whiskey covered this pretty well. With Whiskey, We share characters pretty evenly now, and just write about 200-300 word chunks back and forth, but there are definitely characters we each feel more comfortable with. And scenarios we both excel at! Even if I haven’t written much, I’ll tag Whiskey in if we are coming up on something Whiskey is better at, and vice versa. (For example, Whiskey is much better at pretentious Hannibal speeches than I am, and I have a particular fondness for writing emotional breakdowns. This doesn’t mean we are the only person to write those, of course, just that we tag each other in more often.)

If I’m writing with anyone else, I usually write the same way. There’s only one person I’ll still do RP-style writing with. Usually I try to match my partner’s style, so for example, when I wrote with YAMD I focused a lot more on detailed descriptions than I usually do. I can’t really describe it, I just try to align with how my partner writes. 

I’M NOT VERY HELPFUL, SORRY :D

Cuttlefishcatfish:

1. What do you love about writing?

STRATS: When you finally get to that moment, that scene you’ve been thinking about for AGES, the one you have entirely plotted for weeks. 

Also, writing emotional breakdowns. Give me a sobbing panic attack any day. 

WHISKEY: The moment you hit the flow point and everything just makes sense; either an idea just CLICKS or you finally get over that plot point you were worried about and you are racing through.

2. What do you hate about writing?

STRATS: god why haven’t we yet invented a way for me to think words onto the page? I’M SO TIRED. 

WHISKEY: That meme? The one that goes like “I need this very specific fic and I need it immediately… which means I need to write it… but I just wanna read it, not write it”. That.

3. One writing tip that you could give to other writers.

STRATS: When I was a teenager I came across some writing advice from an author I loved (I want to say Steven King, but it’s been years). The advice was “sit down and actually write.” And I was PISSED. As a teenager struggling with motivation, I hated that advice. 

Now I’m almost 27 and I can safely say that the best writing advice I can give you is JUST FUCKING WRITE THE THING. Even on days I feel like my writing is garbage, I force out a bit of garbage. Force your way through the shitty parts so you can get to the fun parts. You can always go back and edit the shitty parts later (and often it turns out they weren’t as shitty as you thought they were). 

WHISKEY: Practice. I’m sorry, I’m trite and boring but honestly that’s the only way you will get better, get into a habit of writing all the time, and start to find your own voice. Practice even just 100 words a day, coz that’s 100 words more than you had yesterday.

4. One overused word in fanfics?

WHISKEY: Oh god our beta actually points these out now haha! I’m terrible for teeth/tongue/lip action (he tongued the corner of his mouth, flashed his teeth, bit his lip)

STRATS: any time someone’s smile “quirks up at the corners” or you read the words “fluttering/thrumming pulse,” that’s me. It’s always me. I have been called out on the hummingbird pulse before. 

5. Have you guys disagreed on a story direction? If yes, how do you resolve that?

WHISKEY: I don’t think we have *disagreed* really, once in a while we find that a story doesn’t flow how it should, and we start over, or a character we had planned in our head ends up written differently on a tag. In that case we usually just ping the other and explain what we were after (we have a chat always open alongside writing) and figure out what works best for the story. I can think of a couple times that’s happened and it’s always a super chill and fair affair; both of us have “won” those kinds of things before.

STRATS: We gel really well together, and often our stories are at least loosely planned out from the beginning, so it doesn’t come up much. Every once in a while one of us says “so I don’t think this is working” and we usually do our best to find a way to change it around. It’s not really “fun” to write together if you’re making your partner write something they aren’t happy with, so we try to take each other’s opinions into account. 

6. How did you guys manage to let the other into your thought process? Writing is intimate. With a writing partner, that person knows what your kinks, opinions about things, etc. are. Was it scary to let that person in and see you being vulnerable with your works? This is assuming that you let your personality bleed through your stories.

So, this is an awesome question actually, thanks for asking it, and the answer might sound a bit weird so bear with us! We both get a bit of a (major) crush on our writing partners when we write, and after. Not in a way that would be considered cheating or manipulative but in a way that is… intimate. You said it right that it’s intimate. Neither of us want to date the other (besides, Strats is married) but we love each other and spend a lot of time together with our writing.

There is a lot of trust there, and opening up is a process. I think with Strats and I, we started talking about a kink we shared (human furniture) and it sort of bled out from there. “Oh, I also like bondage! And I’m a huge fan of cock and ball torture, you into that?” and it grew from there.

There were some kinks that we came across that we’d both agree were not our jam and we’d just put them away, and there were some kinks that at one point were not one of our kinks but now we share them. These are interesting ones because it happened absolutely organically; neither of us ever push the other into kinks we know make the other uncomfortable, but we do offer the chance, if one of us is so inclined.

For Whiskey this was ABO and feminization, for Strats it’s underage. Once in a while we’ll push a little to see how we feel about those things, but there’s always a carte blanche to back out if anything makes us uncomfortable. It’s honestly such a safe place to explore these things that we really love it. Also both of us are super kinky and very open about it so there’s usually VERY little (if any) filter when we talk sex/kink.

Blue Posey: Where do you get the ideas from? Your stories are so varied.

WHISKEY: We shamelessly pluck ideas from the Hannigram Kinkmeme on Discord, we have about 150 saved in a spreadsheet that we random number generate from when we want a new idea. Sometimes it’s AUs of movies or other shows that we like, sometimes it’s just an idea that we’ve had that we put out into the void and one of us will freak out and connect it to something.

STRATS: we also both keep track of twitter and tumblr and will send each other prompts based on those. We are following quite a few non-fandom porn accounts… 

and of course, sometimes I wake up at four am and text whiskey absolute gibberish and in the morning we write a fic.

Christina Shinn: I always like knowing about what gets writers really excited about their own fics. How writers overcome their writer's block. What motivates writers. What are some pet peeves of writers. YAY! Love your fics!

WHISKEY: 1. I get excited about fics I know people are excited about. If Strats pings me with a story idea and she’s stoked about it, I’ll catch that fever and be entirely into exploring that story. Likewise if someone commissions us or requests a story that really digs its heels in.

STRATS: 1) I’ve gotten a LITTLE less vain now that I do commissions and gifts for other people, but generally, every single thing I have written is something I’ve wanted to read, and so I love rereading it. Sometimes I’ll cringe at a typo or a mistake or an awkward line, but overall, I love everything I write. I have spent hours retreading my own fics before. Write the kind of story you want to read!

WHISKEY: 2. Writer’s block is an asshole and honestly I have no actual “fix it” for you; collab writing definitely helps because you have someone to soundboard off of, but even then sometimes we find ourselves just stuck. That’s when we start yet another original story XD

STRATS: 2) Writer's block occasionally eats me alive. If it’s REALLY hitting you, take a day off. It’s okay. Take a break. Do something fun. 

But once that day is over WRITE THE THING. Write something terrible. Just do it. You can always fix it later

WHISKEY: 3. Collab writing is hugely motivating for me, it’s an immediate and awesome feedback loop of love. You tag, you send it off, and someone FINDS THAT IDEA COOL ENOUGH TO CONTINUE and ping you back, and you have new material to work with that didn’t come out of your head and… it’s great, it really is. Also feedback from readers. Even if it’s critique (note: not “I hated this” but “this could have been done differently imo”) it’s a great way to keep growing and moving as a writer.

STRATS: 3) collab writing is really motivating for me because I am a Guilt Monster and other people are relying on me. For my own stuff, I’m motivated because I’m writing something I like. Something I want to reread later. 

If a story isn’t working for you (and it isn’t required for some sort of work or whatever), stop writing it. Go write something you like. It’s okay to say “actually, I don’t want to write this one anymore.”

WHISKEY: 4. I think every writer has a pet peeve regarding their own headcanons. Some people hate endearments with a pairing, but have their own pet names that work for them in their personal headcanon. In others’ work? There are certain things that irk me, but they’re also entirely personal. If I feel that a character has been written really OOC in a fic that is marked as canon for instance, it grinds my gears. THAT SAID that’s also the writer’s own prerogative.

STRATS: 4) I have too many pet peeves to mention because I am a snob, but I still have relatively low standards for what I’ll read, so I’ve read a vast variety of things. 

Besides what Whiskey said about characterization, I have a few aspects of life that I’m somewhat knowledgeable about, and I can’t stand when people get it WRONG. Special mention goes to people writing children badly, which is the entire reason Family of Choice exists. If you don’t have children or know children, PLEASE do some research into child development before you write them. It drives me up the wall when kids are doing things they shouldn’t be at that age. NEWBORNS. DON’T. GIGGLE.

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓅𝓉. 𝟥)

character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (x eijirou kirishima) 

a/n: ok but like ty for all the notes on my last post??? i get so excited whenever there’s a new notification. ALSO, the best time for me to accept requests is from now to sept. 5! i’m currently on summer break, so i will have plenty of time to write from now until then. 

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!!

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: angst

warnings: mutual pining, cursing, aged-up to third years, bit of a love triangle, romantic tension, one-sided pining, i gave the reader a quirk, kirishima gets jealous EHWJEH

word count: 2031

lol wow things are finally beginning to pick up heehee

please excuse any typos! i edit to the best of my abilities, but it’s easy to miss lost of things 

part 1, part 2 , part 4 

- - - 

you dabbed bakugou’s nose. he winced as you tapped it. “sorry,” you breathed out, switching the tissue in your hand for a clean wipe. 

“i’m fine, dumbass.” 

“then why’d you ask for my help?” you teased, wiping at the blood on his upper lip. 

his cheeks dusted with red, eyes averting to the side. you smiled softly, victorious in his silence. 

nighttime was settling in nicely, the sun bleeding orange into the clouds. 

“look back at me,” you said. gently, you took his bruised jaw in your fingers, adjusting his head so he was facing you. you brushed your fingers along his swelling cheekbone. purple blossomed beneath bakugou’s pale skin. “kirishima was pretty rough out there, huh?’ 

“i’m proud of the guy.” 

you smiled, tilting your head. “you? proud of someone? really?” 

he chuckled. “knock it off, dumbass.” a grin spread across his face, however it was gone when the pain hit. he winced, trying to ignore the sting his smile brought with it. 

you let out a laugh. “just relax, bakugou.” you resumed dabbing away at the excess blood on his face. there were flecks of dirt scattered over his forehead. 

he caught your wrist in one of his soft, large hands. 

your smile faded, and you swallowed, pushing down the rising emotions fluttering into your chest. “yes?” you responded to the silent question his eyes were asking. 

his grip on your wrist loosened, and he let go, letting his arm fall back to his side. 

“everything okay?” 

he didn’t break eye contact as he grunted a reply. “mhm.” 

“alright. i’ll be right back, okay?” 

“‘kay,” he said. 

you stood with a groan, knees sore from all the training you’d been doing lately. you gently shut the bathroom door behind you and rinsed the bits of dirt off the towel, scrubbing away any imperfections stuck between the fibers of the fabric. 

your cheeks were boiling with heat as the ghost of his touch on your wrist lingered. what was that? did he mean to tell you something? 

you wrung out the newly washed cloth and returned to your seat across from bakugou. 

bakugou’s eyes flickered as you began scrubbing the dirk from his forehead. 

“ah,” he gasped out. 

“you’ve gotta stop wincing, bakugou,” you teased. “you’re making me think i’m doing something wrong.” 

“you’ve gotta stop being so rough, y/n.” he took your wrists and pried them away from his face. 

you set the towel down on the table, letting it rest on a paper towel so the excess water could drain out. 

“well, i think the issue is that you haven’t let me set your nose properly.” 

bakugou squinted, unsure. “alright.” he spread his legs, leaning forwards to make your job easier. “do as you wish, y/n.” his voice dropped, eyelids lowering seductively. 

the heat returned to your cheeks, flushing out your confidence from before. instead of replying with an equally snarky comment, you took his face in your hands. “this is going to hurt.” 

“not so much if it’s you.” 

you scoffed. “are you flirting with me, katsuki bakugou?” 

his lips quirked up—just a tiny bit. “stop dreaming, y/n.” 

you ignored the comment and traced your fingers over the bridge of his nose. “on three?” 

he nodded. 

“one—” you cracked the bone into place. 

“ah, shit!” bakugou recoiled back, covering his nose with his hands. “damn brat.” 

“it would have hurt more if you knew it was coming.” you shrugged innocently. 

“at least i would have been prepared.” 

“whatever you say.” you gestured for him to come back to his previous position, and bakugou did as instructed, hands dropping from his face as your hands came back around to cup his cheeks. 

being recovery girl’s grandchild had its benefits. for example, an easy way to get into yuuei off of recommendations. while your quirk wasn’t usually one people would associate with fighting, it came with unexpected pros with how it developed. 

you’d earned the ability not only to heal but to ruin as well. using your quirk, honing it properly, you could twist someone inside out with ease, however, healing was something you were more skilled with. 

a green glow was being emitted from your palms, white orbs flowing into the air and landing on bakugou’s skin. you could tell, under his skin, the bone was fixing itself, beginning to reshape into the flat bridge. 

bakugou sniffed. 

“hold still,” you said. 

“does your healing always make your patients itchy?” 

“it’s just your body healing. stop moving.” the green light receded into your palms. 

you met bakugou’s eyes as you pulled your hands away. you were leaning closer than necessary, out of your seat, knees slightly bent. you could tell his hands were shaking just a bit as they trailed down your arms, starting from your fingertips which were still hovering around his face. 

his hands found their way to your waist. bakugou tugged you closer. barely an inch closer, but it felt like the two of you were inseparable at the moment. 

“y/n?” 

you jumped, and bakugou’s hands fell back to the sides of the seat he was in. you swallowed as kirishima popped up at the doorway. 

you wiped your palms on your shirt, nodding for kirishima to enter. “yes?” 

the redhead walked in warily, hands up and pace slow. “i hope i’m not...interrupting anything. am i?” 

you shook your head. “not at all. we were, um. we were just finishing up.” you picked up the cloth intended for wiping bakugou’s face. “do you think you could finish up by yourself?” 

he took the cloth from your hands. “yeah, sure.” he pushed himself up and was out of your room, waving his thanks. “i’ll pay you back so i don’t owe your ass, got it, y/n?” 

“Alright.” 

bakugou shut the door behind him, leaving you and kirishima alone. 

“so, what was that about?” 

your eyes flew wide. “what was what?” 

“don’t act oblivious, y/n. you two looked at each other like you hung the moon in the sky.” 

you bit your lip, hiding the smile that was brought about upon reminiscing about the recent seen. “it wasn’t anything, kirishima. don’t worry about it.”

“i’m worrying. you know bakugou.” 

“that’s something you’d say about someone with dating experience, and a bad reputation regarding it. bakugou is—” 

“just like every other guy out there? it’s the twenty-first century. there are not many decent people left out here. do you really think he’s any different?” 

“well,” you said, shaking your head, “personally, i see he’s changed.” 

“two years isn’t going to erase all the past shit he’s done.” 

“there’s a thing called forgiveness.” you quirked an eyebrow at him, tilting your head down as you began cleaning up. “plus, it wasn’t necessarily his fault. we can both agree that hero society created toxic standards for all aspiring pros.” 

kirishima clenched his fists. “he’s bad for you.” 

you tossed out a few wipes into the garbage. “sorry?” 

“he’s...not good for you.” 

“i appreciate you thinking nobody is good enough for me, but at the end of the day-” 

unknowingly, kirishima was hardening his fingertips. his nails punctured the soft skin of his palms. “i don’t mean he’s not good enough for you, but that’s another truth, too. he’s just not good for you.” 

you turned, smiling brightly. “and since when did you know what was good for me?” you laughed, eyes closed. “why are you trying to dictate my decisions-” 

when you opened your eyes, you found kirishima standing closer, brows furrowed angrily.

your expression lowered into something angry. “what’s the matter?” 

“i just...i can’t.” 

“can’t what?” 

kirishima was one to be slow to anger. he always had been. you can’t recall a time you saw him angry or pissed except for when bakugou had been kidnapped by the league of villains. 

“kirishima,” you scoffed, “are you genuinely pissed over this? what? is this because i got mad at you because i scolded you for breaking bakugou’s nose? if anything, i don’t think i was wrong for-” 

“that’s not it. that...that isn’t it, y/n.” he stepped towards you. kirishima closed the gap between you both, pressing your back against the wall, trapping you there between his arms. “that isn’t it at all, y/n.” 

you swallowed. “then what is it, kirishima?” his eyes met yours, serious and stern. 

your chest tingled. 

he brought his fingers to your chin, angling your face with ease to get a better look at you. “call me eijirou.” 

“what?” 

“just once. please.” 

“why-” 

“once.”

“...what is it, eijirou?”��

the pause felt like an eternity. “it’s you, y/n.” 

“it’s...me? what about me? did i do something wrong?” 

he chuckled softly, but there was no humor in his longing smile as he stared down. “you’re so oblivious.” 

you could hear his heart beating, getting faster with every sentence he pushed out. 

“you’re so clueless, y/n. it’s kind of pissing me off.” 

“what am i doing to piss you off?” you snapped. 

he tongued the inside of his cheek. “like i said.” he flashed you an award-winning grin. “clueless.” kirishima pushed himself off the wall and left the room, the door shutting hard, but not slamming shut. 

you were left breathless, the hint of his cologne still lingering in the space before you. 

you’d avoided kirishima and bakugou for the rest of the night. 

- 

what kirishima had wanted to say was nothing like what he said, but he knew everything would come out all wrong if he’d try to say anything. 

his mind would have jumbled all his words, and he’d look like a crazy, insane lover. 

bakugou wasn’t bad for you. not at all. you two were perfect for each other. you both had thick skin for silly rebuttals towards one another. you brought out the fun side of the blonde, and he worked you to your best. 

kirishima was just your best friend. he hated to be the one who had fallen with nothing to soften the blow that was surely coming soon. 

his ears burned nearly as red as his hair. a shudder passed down his back, the feeling of your jaw pressed between his thumb and index finger still imprinted there. 

“i can’t fucking stand to see you around him.” 

kirishima made his way to the common room, finding bakugou looking for snacks there. kirishima scoffed as his friend emerged with an apple in hand. 

it was not like he hated bakugou. not at all. he didn’t think that pining for the same girl would ruin their friendship. he was just angry that you chose him. 

kirishima respected your decisions. he wouldn’t ever try to get in the way of anything if you and bakugou made that kind of decision. he just wanted to be near you. 

perhaps he should leave the situation alone. leave you alone and just forget about how his feelings were nagging at him every day. 

he should forget how you were the first thing on his mind every morning, and the thing he thought about when he fell asleep. 

you were everywhere. should he forget that too? 

- 

bakugou tossed his apple into the air. he clapped his friend on the back, taking a bite out. “go to sleep, idiot.” 

“don’t call me that.” 

bakugou turned, startled that kirishima wasn’t taking bakugou’s shit today. “you good?” 

“i’m fine, but i’m not an idiot.” 

bakugou’s body tightened. “alright.” 

the pair stood awkwardly for a moment before kirishima sucked in a sudden breath. “what is y/n to you?” he asked. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow. “what?” 

“they’re obviously something to you.” 

“listen, they were just helping me out. didn’t think you’d get offended from them fixing my broken ass nose.” 

“that’s not what i mean. i walked in on you two, and you were about to—” 

“i wasn’t going to do jackshit.” bakugou tossed his apple away, too angry to eat anything anymore. 

“yes. don’t lie to me.” 

“i’m not lying. where is all of this coming from?” 

kirishima huffed out a frustrated breath. he shouldered past bakugou. kirishima uttered words he hated himself for saying. “leave me alone.”

- - -

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