#gosh its been ages I used that tag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avanatural · 2 years

Text

That Simple

Part 2

Series summary: Beau goes to Y/N, a new friend of his, for some dating advice. Is the charming new Sheriff gonna get the date that he’s hoping for?

Pairing: Beau Arlen x female Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1.8k

Chapter warnings: Mentions of guns, sexual tension

A/N: This is part two to That Simple. It was originally supposed to be a one shot, but I loved writing it too much to leave it behind just yet. I hope you like it! Send me an ask if you want to be added to my Beau tag list ❤️

Part 1 | Series Masterlist | Beau Arlen Masterlist | Part 3

Main Masterlist

“Like that?” She felt weird, holding the heavy piece of steel in her hand. Perhaps she just wasn’t cut out for this.

Beau smacked his lips and tilted his head to the side. “Not quite. Here, lemme show you.” He stepped behind her. His arms circled around her, mimicking her grip on the gun. He caged her in his embrace. “This okay?”

Y/N smiled to herself. Maybe a date at the shooting range had its perks, after all. “Yeah.”

“A steady grip like this…,” Beau explained as his hands covered hers around the gun. His palms were so big in comparison, easily engulfing hers in his gentle touch. Using his grasp on her, he adjusted both her stance and her hold on the weapon. “… will give you more stability.” By now, his mouth was hovering right next to her ear.

The deep sound of his voice sank right into her soul, seeping into the depths of body. Her lower belly was flooded with butterflies. Y/N felt a chill in her bones, a heat in her chest.

A tingling sensation shot from the top of her head right down to her toes, making them curl. Beau’s lips next to her ear, his front against her back, his arms around her body, it all made her feel giddy. Ready to implode with longing.

“Now aim…,” he continued, making Y/N wonder if he was actually oblivious to the effect he had on her. Beau used his hands to guide her arms, pointing the barrel of the handgun at the target’s head. “Yeah... Just like that,” he breathed.

This time, she couldn’t contain the shiver that took over her body and made her muscles convulse. She was lucky she didn’t moan right then and there.

“You okay there, Y/N?”, he drawled and she could have sworn she felt him grin against her ear.

What a glorious tease he was. Raw temptation served on a silver platter.

“Yeah.” She tried to laugh off her arousal. “I think I got it from here.”

“Alright.” He released her hands and took a step back. One of his palms wandered to the side of her waist as he encouraged her, “Go on, show him what you’re made of.” He nodded at the target before letting go of Y/N entirely. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he observed her with anticipation.

As a result of losing Beau’s warmth, she felt a breeze of cold air against her back. She took a breath, careful not to change her aim, and pulled the trigger. Her shot shattered the silence and echoed through the building with booming intensity.

Y/N hit the target’s head, dead-on. Once realization kicked in, she lowered the gun with a surprised little chuckle.

“Ha-ha!”, Beau exclaimed and clapped his hands together, “That’s my girl!”

When Y/N turned around, a huge smile was plastered on his face. His pearly white teeth were on full display, and his apple green orbs beamed with pride. Gosh, she wanted to kiss him right on the spot.

“Well done, darlin’,” he praised. The light in his eyes was almost blinding.

“I think that had little to do with me, and much more to do with you.”

“Come on, cut yourself some slack.” Beau smiled and squeezed her upper arm. “I’ve been doin’ this for ages, and you…” His free hand came up to tenderly brush some hair behind her ear. “Are a natural.”

“So, do I get a reward?”, she asked, gazing up at him doe-eyed.

His fingers moved from her ear to her cheek. Subtly, the pad of his thumb swiped along her skin. “Local diner?”, he suggested, “Food’s on me, including a large side of cheese fries.”

“Mhh,” she moaned and leaned into his touch. Little did he know her reaction wasn’t entirely due to the fact that she was starving.

Beau just had this magnetic force about him. The closer she was to him, the safer she felt. His arms were like a fence, like a shield that protected her from everything unpleasant.

Beau’s emerald eyes darkened with a playful glimmer. His voice dropped an octave, which only served to intensify the giddy feeling in Y/N’s stomach. “You keep making sounds like that, you’re gonna make me hungry for somethin’ else.”

Yes, please. Batting her eyelashes at him, she placed her hands on his chest. It was solid and warm. So tempting. Judging from his face and the backs of his hands, she was certain his torso was covered in freckles, too. “Would that be so bad?”, she rasped.

Beau’s gaze dropped to her lips. He bent forward, his minty breath fanning against her face. “Oh, quite the opposite,” he husked.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as he closed the distance between them. But just as he was about to press his voluptuous lips to hers, the sounds of footsteps broke the two of them apart.

Beau’s brow knitted against hers. He dragged his bottom lip through his teeth, frustrated. The mood had been killed by three other people entering the shooting range. “Let’s get outta here, yeah?”, he muttered, his voice still heavy with yearning.

For a few more seconds, Y/N reveled in the sensation of breathing his air, of his green gaze boring right into her eyes. She had literally forgotten that they were in a public place.

Beau could do that to you – beam you into a different reality in which nothing existed except for his beauty, charm, and incredible heart.

“Alright,” she muttered quietly, “I’m starving, anyway.”

Reluctantly, Beau broke away from her and led her outside with his hand on her lower back.

“That was probably the most unique date I’ve ever had,” Y/N said as she stepped up the front porch with Beau next to her. “Why the shooting range?”

He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “What, you’re tellin’ me that’s not every woman’s dream?”

The two of them shared a few seconds of laughter and came to a halt in front of her door.

“I just…” Beau shifted on his feet as their laughter died down. “I want you to be able to protect yourself,” he admitted. The strength and cheerfulness that usually laced his voice were stripped away, leaving behind only honest sounds of vulnerability.

Y/N leaned against her front door and tried to read the expression on his face. “Is that why you want our next date to take place at the gym?”

“I just wanna teach you to spar, is all.” Beau pulled his large hands from his pockets and raised them in defense. “Just a couple moves. After that, we’ll do whatever you like. I promise.”

Her lips curved with an affectionate smile. She knocked the tips of her shoes against his boots, just like she had after their very first date. Her fingers came up to cup his cheek. She fondly caressed his stubble and the smooth skin underneath.

“Alright,” she agreed. Y/N wondered if she’d ever met a man as caring as Beau Arlen.

He briefly closed his eyes and nuzzled her hand. “Thank you,” he mumbled, his throaty voice barely audible. Knowing that his treasure would be able to protect herself was going to help him sleep at night.

“As long as you’re not gonna make me go on runs,” Y/N warned.

Beau started to laugh and shook his head. He was grateful that she’d offered him an intro to dive back into more lighthearted waters. “Don’t worry, ain’t gonna happen,” he vowed.

Y/N listened intently as a few more chuckles escaped his lips. She loved his laugh, she really did. When Beau laughed, the whole world instantly seemed a little brighter. A little more colorful. It was that one sound that spoke to her soul the very most.

“Come ‘ere,” he said and pulled her close by the hips. The sweet scent of her perfume put him in a trance, making him bow his head and join their lips in slow motion. Once his lips collided with hers, he made every tilt of his head, every swipe of his tongue count.

Y/N hummed into his kiss and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. She knew she would never get tired of kissing Beau. It felt like an entirely new experience every single time. With those plump, pink lips of his, he could be sweet, slow, sensual, passionate, fiery. And right in that moment, he was offering it all to her at once.

After a few moments of escaping to their very own reality together, they broke apart with one final smacking sound.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed against his lips, her eyes hooded with lust.

Beau smirked against her mouth. “Can’t wait for Friday.”

“Me neither,” she replied.

“We’re gonna have a good ol’ time. You’ll probably be kickin’ my ass by the end of it.” He stepped backwards and once again held onto Y/N’s hand until the distance became too large between them. “See ya, sweetheart.” His fingers slipped through hers and twitched with an instant need to rejoin them.

“See you.”

With one final, smoldering wink, Beau turned around to stagger back to his car on his gorgeous bowlegs.

Y/N stayed frozen on the spot, staring after her sweet, rugged Sheriff. Was he truly hers, though?

After five miraculous dates, she found herself wondering time and time again what exactly they were to each other. Her friends kept asking about the mysterious man she was seeing. The mysterious man that made her so happy. She didn’t want him to be a mystery any longer.

“Beau?”, she suddenly blurted.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around with arched brows. “Yeah?”

Y/N held her breath for a second, contemplating her next words. But she needed to know. She needed to know if he preferred to remain a mystery.

“Are we a couple?”, she asked, feeling her cheeks turn red with warmth. Her hands fumbled with her keys as she waited for his response. Was she being too straightforward? Too desperate?

Beau chuckled, looked down at his feet, and met her eyes again. The grin on his face was like a sudden beam of sunlight. “I sure hope so, darlin’.”

Y/N couldn’t contain the bright smile that stretched across her lips. Relief flooded her whole body, making her feel lightheaded for a second. “That simple, huh?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders and cheekily pressed his tongue against his teeth. The grin didn’t leave his face. “That simple.”

Delighted giggles came out of Y/N’s mouth when he suddenly jogged back up her porch. Her stomach turned with joy, making her feel like she was back at the fair, back on the rollercoaster on their first date. She was on cloud nine.

Beau joined her, hopping onto her candy-coated cloud with so much ease that it made her head spin. He smiled from ear to ear and tugged her back into his sweet embrace.

Part 3

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen #beau arlen imagine #big sky imagine #beau arlen fluff

327 notes · View notes

staliamazing · 8 days

Text

weekly tag game that i'm bad at xoxo

name: sarah

age: 21

astrological sign: taurus

upon which continent do you reside: australia

tell us how you're feeling right now using 3-5 emojis: 🎃👩‍❤️‍👩🍫🤒😴

whats your favorite flavor of gum?: grape hubba bubba tape

whats the last movie you watched?: challengers! best movie oh my gosh that's why i've been reblogging so much stuff from it. i don't usually watch them so it's really blown me away. patrick zweig the man that you are.

what was your worst subject in high school?: geography! it didn't really click for me but i really hated my teacher who refused to call me my name and only called me "miss insert last name here". i say i was bad at maths but got a band 5 in it for the HSC aka like, a B/B+ for the non-aussies?

whats the job you stayed at for the shortest period of time?: an aussie lingerie company! i was only a christmas casual. it was actually my first ever job and i was very scared of the manager but it helped me rip off the bandaid.

whats your favorite thing to do at an amusement park?: bitch NOTHING. eat some ice cream and go home. i am not a thrill seeker, i hate people and not having two feet planted firmly on the ground. even then the food would probably make me sick.

what condiments go on top of the perfect hot dog (meat or plant-based)?: bbq sauce and onion. by hot dog i mean bunnings sausage sandwich.

cincinnati chili, thoughts?: very few! but chili is yum, i have been enjoying spicy stuff lately. hearty meals as it's getting to be winter!

do you sleep with a plushie?: yes! well they sleep on my bed. i get too overstimulated when i have to touch them at night cos sleep is very difficult. they are named wags and shaky and are my absolute best friends, i don't know what i'd do without them. they're a bit saggy cos they're both around as old as me.

how do you feel about thunderstorms?: not great! the last thunderstorm i endured i was HOME ALONE listening to ethel cain so safe to say i was certain it was my final, doomed hour on this earth. only in the past year have i stopped going into mums room when they get really bed. i am a naturally very fearful person who is convinced i'm unsafe a lot.

what's the last animal you touched?: my sister's cat, norton. who is being a bully to his sister so i was patting him gently and telling him to not be mean.

grab the nearest item with words on it that ISNT a book and tell me the final word: "VEGAN" - my body shop mango lip scrub because mine are always weird and chapped.

have you ever forgotten to do an assignment until the night before its due?: most certainly not! if it's the night before and it's not done, that's a purposeful choice. i'm not sure what it is in me but if i feel like i'm gonna flop i just. stop. can't fail me if i already failed MYSELF, babygirl.

thanks for tagging me @iansw0rld aka the only person who will read this probs LOL. they're fun!

@randomuser-05 if you wanna add some answers u can xoxo

#weekly tag game #i am the coolest best person

9 notes · View notes

coffehbeans · 9 months

Note

In regards to the post where you stated that you were getting a bit tired of gt, maybe its with the community? I've been in the gt community for a couple years now, and I've observed it to be... Not as great when I joined. For one, its become way too oversaturated with the same types of tropes and style of writing (fluff mostly), and two, its seemingly hostile towards anything that isn't what saturates the community. It also has a terrible relationship towards writers and I'm not pull out that particular drama (even though its pretty damning), its just that very few stories and creators get the attention and interaction they deserve. Whether it be because people can't be bothered to take a few minutes to read a story, or it goes against the fluff norm.

I especially felt you when you said you got annoyed by the posts where 'oh it would be so cool if I was tiny' like wow... Nobody's said that before (they have, over and over and over and over-). The g/t community is deceptive because initially you think it'll be great because its relatively small and you all like this odd genre of media that you'd think everyone would just get along. Because we're all weirdos. But nope, the community can be just as toxic, just as uninviting, and just as hostile as other fandoms.

Of course, take everything I say with a grain of salt. I've only been here for two years, and these are my observations which have come not only from my own eyes but others I've interacted. I could be completely right or completely wrong. Who knows. Just wanted to say you're not alone in being tired of g/t.

Thanks for such a long ask! I share a lot of the feelings you have here. Although for me I don't think the g/t community is toxic at all. Drama will continue to happen as humans will remain being humans. But with the other aspects I totally agree with you.

I'm in the g/t fandom for five years now. Back then, it peaked at deviantart. Stories and writing were the main g/t content, but I don't remember if there were interactions or not. But I still say the time g/t was brimming with good content was ack at deviantart, and the countless groups and content. It was so good.

It seems that over the years people stopped reading or something, because it's very difficult to get a lot of notes on your writing. And I say this not referring to me, but to the other writers I follow. I try to at least leave a nice comment in the tags or something, but usually I'm part of the few people that do this. I say that nowadays writing g/t stories is the same as talking to a brick wall.

And the take I most agree with you, is the oversaturation. Oh gosh. The same stuff being repeated over and over and over. And only fluff, and only wishing to be tiny, and I'm tired. Sorry if people are having fun, it's just that these aren't the reason I personally like g/t and seeing the same boring fluff stuff for the milionth time and getting 500 notes is, tiring. I enjoy fluff but gosh, is that really all that people can come up with? Where's the interesting stuff, you know?

Also over the years I really felt the age difference. I'm not part of the majority of the demographic that composes this fandom and gosh, I feel it. The stories I find, when they're not from my usual favorite authors, are immature and childish. The posts are the same stuff, written in a way that I can see is from a 14-16 year old. Again, nothing wrong with that, but I can't relate to these types of content like I used to when I was that age.

So for me, anon, it's not about toxicity (I think the g/t fandom is very healthy). For me is that I really started to feel the age difference between me and most of the community, since I don't find the content that tackles the subjects I'm interested in (which are usually kinda deep and definitely not the fluff and jokes we get everyday).

Thanks again for the ask!

#And I don't mean to say this in a “oh im an adult im so cool” type of way #its just that this content is not appealing to me anymore #they annoy me more than anything because im looking for other type of content you understand?#more mature stories focusing on tender relationships and interesting plots #not the same “ooh cute tiny fluff and cheap drama” stories over and over and over again #coffeh speaks up #coffeh answers #and when there IS deeper and more interesting content #it involves an abusive relationship between tinies and giants that is normalized #so I constantly have to make the content I want to see #but I constantly don't get the interactions back like i wanted to #so it's a kind of lonely road and I lost motivation pretty quickly

13 notes · View notes

darkchocolatedimples · 1 year

Text

endings are bittersweet (for you and me)

ngl its 11:00pm on saturday but i did want to make something for keefitz week considering the brain rot sorting through taylor swift's albums threw me into, but i was super busy so i just finished right now. i think this loosely follows the prompts for days 2 and 3. thank you @when-wax-wings-melt and @skylilac for hosting this!! its such a fun idea!

heavily taylor swift inspired fic under the cut!! (songs in the tags)

Hindsight is the clearest rearview mirror, and it’s in hindsight that Keefe should’ve known there was a flaw in his plans for the day. Afterall, Fitz being open to hearing him out wasn’t entirely in his cards.

Maybe when they were younger, before he’d ran way (twice), it would’ve been. But now, Fitz seems to have less to say and more scores to settle. Keefe guesses that's fair. He's not beyond owning up to what he did.

Yet he doesn't entirely expect Fitz to simply nod hello and cut to the chase of whatever he wanted to say. Although, Keefe had probably relinquished the luxury of speaking first when he tore Fitz’s heart in two and walked away.

At least, he assumes that’s what he did. And it was, if Fitz had actually cared. But maybe Keefe miscalculated that as well.

“You know, I was thinking…” Well that was wonderful, Keefe had been thinking too, over and over again, over the words they’d said and if they’d meant anything at all and if it was fair to ask for it all again- “And I want my bramble jersey back.”

Keefe blinks. “What?”

“You took it like, years ago? Remember the one?” Fitz prompts, accent crisp and unforgiving.

The bramble jersey. The one he forgot he still owned- no, the one he’d forgotten he’d stolen from Fitz’s closet ages ago, before they drifted apart, before everything got complicated, before Sophie even. Though some of those things were related.

“Do you seriously want it back?” he asks underneath his breath, lowering his head towards the ground so Fitz wouldn’t see the water beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes, as if he didn’t already know it was one of his nervous tells. Why was it so tough for him to imagine? Whatever this was between them fell apart ages ago. So why did returning the jersey feeling like sealing their tragic fate?

They’d always known they were bound to burn in the end.

“If you still have it,” Fitz confirms, digging his heel into the ground. Keefe can't tell what his face looks like, but if he had to guess, he’d imagine a perfect ‘gosh, I’m sorry’ grimace that doesn't look half as mean as it should on someone. Fitz is better than everyone else, anyways.

Keefe used to be able to contest to that. Keefe used to know the taller like the back of his hand; understand him better than he understood himself. Keefe knew Fitz, and even if he doesn't anymore, he knows what this must be to him. A last little loose end to wrap up so they can leave this decaying chapter of their lives in the past and move on. Be mature and embrace new beginnings. Ones that might last. But Keefe just feels like a weed being plucked.

He probably is a weed, infecting the perfect garden of Fitz’s life since the moment he’d taken his hand that day when they were kids. So if it's better to leave, if it's better to move on, why is it so hard? Why can't he let them die?

"I'll try to find it," Keefe mumbles beneath his breath.

Fitz shrugs, "Thanks," and then it's over and he's light leaping away like he didn't tear Keefe's plans to rekindle their relationship down the middle and leave him in sprinkles from the sky, slowly gaining weight. Only fitting, considering Keefe left first, and the weather was worse.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Raindrops the size of bullets pierced Fitz's skin, drenching his hair and tunic and blurring his vision as he tried to find the right lock to click open the way Keefe had described to him years ago. A useless piece of information, considering he'd never intentionally brought Fitz to his home, but the request of "Tell me something I don't know about you," had arisen under lazy pink skies and that was the only thing the blonde could think of. They'd already known everything there was to know about the other at age twelve.

The door creaked and Fitz pushed it out of the way, fumbling into the foyer as his clothes dripped water onto the mat. He only rubbed his boots against it for moment before leading himself up to Keefe's bedroom.

If Lord Cassius was home at the moment, he didn't run into Fitz as he made his way through the halls. He wouldn't have much to say if he did, although his reason for the impromptu visit was innocent enough. Cassius probably wouldn't believe it.

Would anyone?

Maybe that's why Fitz was here: because he had something to prove. He needed to convince everyone he didn't consider his relationship with Keefe a hopeless cause.

He needed to convince Keefe himself.

So really, shuffling around in his closet for his favorite sweater wouldn't hurt. It would show him he cared, he remembered, maybe even help him remember-

A cluttering noise caught Fitz off guard before he could start ruffling through the clothes in the chest before him, and the man flitting quickly down the stairs shocked him cold.

Days later, Fitz would be stuck wondering why he didn't give up sooner; why he hadn't thrown Keefe away like a broken record when everyone had expected him to. At least then he wouldn't have been present for this. His heart would've been spared.

"Keefe?" he asked tentatively, making the blonde boy flinch as he raised his head, spotting him. "What are you doing here?"

Keefe shrugged, holding up the elixirs he was carrying, but he didn't speak. Fitz hadn't entirely expected him to.

"Back to pulling pranks already?" The empty smile Keefe gave him sent chills through his body. It almost felt...mournful. "I thought you're supposed to be at Elwin's."

At that, Keefe couldn't hide his grimace, and Fitz couldn't help but sound accusatory when he noticed. "What's the bag for?"

His hunch must have been right if it made Keefe curve into himself in shame. "No, you can't seriously be- Again?"

"Keefe, don't," he pleaded, abandoning the open chest to make his way towards his friend. "They said they'd help you, Alina and Oralie and whoever else."

"It's not enough," Keefe croaked out, facing the floor, and Fitz sighed.

"How would you know that? Have you even tried?" He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Keefe, please don't leave on all of us again."

The noise that left the younger’s throat sounded equal parts distraught and irritated, like he couldn’t deal with any of this much longer. That was probably why he was leaving anyways; maybe everyone’s nagging to just try and just believe wasn’t working, and maybe Fitz was only making things worse. So he tried a different approach. “Please don’t do this to us.”

Us was a large term in broad daylight; but like this, in the rain, alone, Keefe had to have known who Fitz was referring to. “Us” was Fitz and Keefe, like it should’ve always been. But things got too complicated for “us” to be just them anymore.

And it was probably those same things that made Keefe push back the hoarseness in his throat from lack of use just to say, “I’m sorry.”

But Fitz couldn’t give up. Giving up was giving in to everyone else’s idea that they were falling apart, and Fitz would be damned to call himself a Vacker if he gave up. “Please stay Keefe. For me.”

It was a stretch, but the words hung between them for a moment, vulnerable, open, and targeted, and Fitz almost wished he could snatch them back and fashion them into a more formal request, something that better fit the current state of their relationship.

And then Keefe shook his head.

“Oh…oh.” Fitz stumbled back, tripping into the bed. “Carry on, then.”

Keefe didn’t waste a second before exiting the room.

Fitz only wondered if he’d felt his heart splintering as he’d rushed past.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The question itself was unfair. How could Fitz have expected anything else when there were bigger things at play than just the both of them? Keefe had a reason for leaving, and he doesn't entirely regret it.

But that wasn’t what hurt him. Fitz wasn’t stupid, he knew it wouldn’t work. Alas, he still put himself out there, waiting for some sort of signal or sign that Keefe cared. And he didn’t give it to him.

He walked out. Without a second thought. And he’s regretted it everyday since, because if he had to go back and pinpoint a moment when their lives stopped being intertwined and became two lonely strands of bitterness, he’d say it was right then, when he’d shaken his head and said nothing. That was his mistake. This is his fault.

He hadn’t said anything, and now Fitz is done waiting. He wants his jersey back. He wants this to be over.

So Keefe digs through his room and finds it buried under tunics he’d never liked and capes he wanted to tear to shreds for years. A piece of fabric that held more memories than he’d like to admit. Sifting through the emotions tied to a simple jersey shouldn’t feel like a landslide, but maybe Keefe’s empathy is still oversensitive. Or maybe Fitz just means much more to him than he should.

Keefe doesn't want to think about it anymore. He doesn't want to think at all, about how everything is falling apart, about how stupid he is for having this occupying his head when there was a war to be worrying about. But even if they won, what was he coming back to?

He slipped the jersey over his head, watching it fall down his frame in the mirror and wondering how it was still big on him. He'd always been smaller than Fitz, but he assumed he'd grown. Apparently, not half as much as he'd thought. He tore his eyes away from his reflection before he dwelled on it for much longer.

It became habit, at some point along the way, to flip open his gold journal to a fresh, blank page and cover it with the sparkle in Fitz’s teal eyes as he looked at someone else, the swoop of his hair and the angles of his jaw. Today, however, when Keefe let the pencil in his hand guide him to whatever image his mind was creating, the slopes of nose smaller, his jaw softer, and his hair longer and slightly more unruly. Fitz was younger, and asleep, in the same jersey Keefe was wearing now.

If he closed his eyes it almost smelled like him.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Fitz…Fitz wake up.”

It was a solemn thing, to have to wake up the boy when he was so blissfully passed out, gentle features rounded out by the pillow underneath his head.

Keefe considered letting him sleep, but being only six years old made him increasingly impatient, and there wasn't much to do with his best friend snug asleep in the bed next to him. He sighed, sitting up and letting the blankets pool around him.

"Fitz. Fitz. Wake up loser," he whined, pushing the elder's shoulder. He only let out a groan in response.

After another shove and tearing off the covers to expose him to the cold air, Fitz blinked groggily, rubbing his eyes to make them focus on the blonde boy next to him. Keefe reached over to the bedside table and handed him his glasses.

Fitz mumbled something like a thank you, slipping them on and looking at him with tired confusion on his face. Keefe misses the look of it, he hadn't worn his glasses in years, but they'd always hold a special place in his heart, nestled right next to the beginnings of their friendship. "Is it the middle of the night?"

"No, I think it's morning," Keefe answered. "And I'm bored."

"Well, I think we should go to sleep again," Fitz decided, turning over and burying his bed head back into the pillows. Keefe wonders how he hadn't changed in the ten years since.

"No!" And he hadn't either. Not by much, besides their friendship holding on by a single thread.

Fitz groaned as Keefe pulled the blankets away again, bothering him as much as he could. "Keefe, you know if we sleep in a little longer Mom and Dad will let us just eat mallowmelt instead of breakfast?" he mentioned.

Keefe stopped his meddling abruptly. It never really was a hard task to get his attention, especially with food involved. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Fitz confirmed. Keefe considered it for a moment, about to settle back into the bed before they heard footsteps coming down the hall. The boys widened their eyes at each other.

The two dove under the covers, doing their best attempt of faking sleep before the door unlocked.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The door swings open as Biana twirls in with at least six different cosmetics in her hands and a flowing purple dress barely hanging onto her shoulders. “Ah! Fitz, zip me up, will you?”

Fitz does as asked, moving her hair out of the way as she set all the products down on the bathroom counter and tries to find the lip gloss she wants. She settles on a light tint of purple that matches her dress.

“Where are you going?” Fitz questions, leaning back against the wall when he’s done.

“Dinner with the Dizznee’s. Haven’t really been able to spend time with them since school started,” she explains, rubbing her lips together.

“Right,” Fitz agrees, watching her flit about the bathroom, getting ready.

“How was Keefe earlier?”

“Oh.” Fitz doesn’t remember telling Biana what he was doing that morning, and something about her nonchalance was unsettling. He probably hadn’t told her at all. It wouldn’t be surprising, Biana knows everything there is to know about him anyways. Perhaps more than himself. “He was… Alright, I guess. I asked for my jersey back.”

Biana freezes. Her eyes fly across the mirror to look into his. “You did what?”

“I asked for it back. The jersey, from when we were kids,” Fitz clarifies.

She sighs, turning back to herself in the mirror. Her words are almost exasperated when she reminds, “You still are kids, you know. We all are. That’s why none of this works.”

Fitz could ask what she was referring to; the war? Being members of the Black Swan? Their friendships? He could ask, but he can tell with the tired look in her eyes that she means the latter.

“I don’t think I like Sophie,” he admits softly out of the blue. The words dance across the fragile ice in the air, like they’d break it and send everything crumbling if they wanted to. “No, I know I don’t.”

Biana’s responding chuckle melts the ice before they have a chance to crack it. “I think we knew that.”

Fitz freezes as the words flow through him. “You- what? Was I that much of a jerk?”

“Oh, she doesn’t know,” Biana corrects, working her deft fingers through her hair as she braids it back into a twisted bun. “You should let her know, kindly. But how could you have, honestly, with Keefe around.”

“I- I don’t know what you mean,” Fitz stutters, looking at her in the mirror with furrowed eyebrows. “Keefe’s my…friend.” Hardly. Was that really the message he sent to him earlier?

His sister’s hands drop from her hair as she spins to look him straight in the eyes. “Friends don’t use kisses as currency, Fitz.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“If you come, I’ll kiss you.”

Fitz raised an eyebrow, making no move to get up from his arm chair. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll never kiss you again!” Keefe decided, sitting on the chair’s arm. “It would be a shame though, I thought you said it was fun.”

“You’re seriously giving me an ultimatum about this?” Fitz questioned, dropping his book into his lap. Keefe nodded shamelessly, and the elder couldn’t help the smile growing on his face.

“It’s just a party, Fitz,” he pleaded, slipping down from the couch arm and landing next to Fitz. “We finished level 3, we deserve to celebrate a little.”

“We can leave after two hours if you get bored,” he added softly, studying the elder’s eyes. “I just wanted to go for a little bit. And I wanted to go with you.”

Fitz pretended to think for a moment, watching Keefe look up at him, wide-eyed and waiting patiently. Three years later, Fitz isn’t be able to remember the last time Keefe looked at him like that. He just misses it.

“I mean, a kiss?” he said after a moment, scrunching his nose. “You drive a hard bargain. How could I say no?”

Fitz doesn’t miss parties. He doesn’t miss the fake smiles and empty greetings, nor does he miss the noise and the lights and the small flaring headache afterwords. He does, however, miss Keefe.

Surprisingly for such a usually shy person, parties were Keefe’s scene. It was like all his introverted qualities flew out the window once he was in, and in contrast to Fitz, he loved the lights and the music. In the end, Fitz grew to like seeing the younger surrounded by it all.

Keefe also used parties as an even better excuse to flirt with anything that breathes. And more often than not, that ended up being Fitz. Not that he’d ever complain.

“Do you want to leave?” Keefe whispered quietly, leaving the crowd towards where Fitz sat blissfully alone. His hair was messier than when they’d arrived, like someone had run their hands through them, and Fitz’s jaw almost clenched until he remembered that no matter how confident Keefe got under bright lights and crowds, he wouldn’t let people get that close. Well, not anyone but him, of course.

“No I’m fine, go dance,” he waved off, sipping his lushberry juice. Keefe pouted instead.

“I want to dance with you,” he complained softly, tugging at the elder’s arms to get him off the chair.

“I don’t dance,” Fitz reminded, but his words didn’t match his actions as he put the glass down next to him and let Keefe pull him off the chair with a joyful smile.

The younger pulled him close, his lips almost brushing against Fitz’s ear as he whispered, “Thank you,” and Fitz would’ve kissed him again right there. Alas, there were people around, and he didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.

He’d also rather not have his second kiss have a crowd. Everything was sweeter in secret, wasn’t it?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It was. It had to be. It was the same mantra Keefe had been repeating in his head that whole summer.

There was a reason they weren’t telling anyone. And it wasn’t because they were doing anything wrong. It was just a fun little joke. They tried it once, it felt nice, so they did it again. And again.

It was simple. It was a normal thing to do. No one would say otherwise if they knew. But…they didn’t really need to know either. Best not confuse them.

Keefe was confused enough already.

Fitz was growing taller. He had a few inches on Keefe already, and the younger despised it. Maybe he would’ve hated it less if the other didn’t constantly lord it over him, standing just close enough so Keefe had to tilt his head up to see him, resting his arm around Keefe’s shoulders like it belonged there. They’d been the same height since forever, and Keefe was not going to let himself go down like this.

Especially not considering the way his heart rate sped up when Fitz was leaning over him. He couldn’t let the elder hold that power against him, and he couldn’t let him know. So he took a deep breath and stayed calm when Fitz pushed him into a tree halfway through his tangent about how cool Alvar was.

“Well, that was rude,” Keefe huffed, trying not to shy away from the elder’s bright teal eyes as they stared down at him. “I was talking.”

“I don’t want to talk about Alvar,” Fitz responded, as if it was an excuse. His hand didn’t move from where it was pinned above Keefe’s shoulder.

“You know Fitz, there’s this thing called communication, where you use your words-”

The elder cut him off by layering his lips over Keefe’s in a sweet, chaste kiss that still left Keefe stunned and a little breathless when he pulled away. “I don’t really want to do that either.”

Keefe rolled his eyes, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah I can see that.” But he didn’t stop him from kissing him again.

Kissing Fitz was a pleasant thing when it didn’t leave Keefe spiraling down a hole of Why do you care so much? It was easy not to think, with Fitz’s lips on his, about his father, or his mentors, or any of the small things plauging his life when they pulled away. Kissing Fitz made it feel like he’d never have to go home, like this was his home, and he’d never have to leave. He never wanted to leave.

But those were the same thoughts that kept him up all night that whole summer, as relieving as they were in the moment. Fitz had always felt more like home than anything Keefe had ever called home his entire life. And if he was honest, he never wanted that to change. He never wanted them to change.

He never wanted whatever this was that they were doing to change. He didn’t like the thought of Fitz doing this with anyone else, being this comfortable with anyone else, or sharing his space this much with anyone else, but he had to face that that was the reality. Someday, Fitz would go marry some girl, and all of this, all these remenants of them would be left behind in the past. But Keefe didn’t want to think about all that. He just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Now, Keefe wishes it had lasted a little longer. But then they were in Level 4, and Fitz finally found Sophie, and their lives began to change so rapidly that Keefe just felt like he was along for the ride as everything he’d ever known turned upside-down and faded away.

Maybe Keefe had known back then too, that it wouldn’t last long, and that that day would have their last kiss, because when he’d pulled away, he’d asked, “You won’t forget me, right?”

Fitz had raised an eyebrow. “What? Where did that come from?”

“Nowhere, just-” Keefe looked back down at the ground as he caught his breath and sorted through his thoughts. “You won’t, right? Ever?”

The elder was only silent for a moment before he admitted, “Keefe, I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”

He was charming, Keefe would give him that. And it made him feel like a shy and red-cheeked kid all over again.

Sitting in his room years later, with the blush faded and rose-colored glasses lost, Keefe wonders if mememories like those haunted Fitz now, as he tries his hardest to forget him. If those promises meant nothing, and now both of them are nothing, it’s honestly better that they hadn’t told anyone. Looking back, they probably wouldn’t have understood anyways.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Just because you didn’t tell me doesn’t mean I never knew,” Biana continued on, ignoring Fitz’s frozen stare.

“But…how-”

“I’m your sister Fitz. And you kissed outside my bedroom once,” she admits, turning back to the mirror. "My point being, friends don’t do that.”

“Just because yours don’t-” Fitz cuts himself off as Biana gives him a sharp look in the mirror.

“You hear how ridiculous you sound, don’t you? There’s no point.” She continues pinning up her hair as she adds, “You love him."

Fitz gulps, watching himself go pale in the mirror. “That’s a strong word.”

“Yeah, and the right one," she agrees. "You’ve loved him since we were little kids, and you still do."

“You’re not an empath-" Fitz starts to argue, but Biana doesn’t want to hear it.

"I don’t have to be. I’m your sister," she reminds quaintly. "But he is an empath."

Fitz bites his lip subconsciously, going over the implication. "You think he knows?"

"No. I don't think he ever understood what your emotions meant, and he probably still doesn’t," she admits, looking through the products in front of her. "Especially not with you asking for the jersey back. Honestly, Fitz, what was that?"

"I just wanted all of this to be over," he answers shamefully, looking down at the floor so Biana's eyes in the mirror won’t rip him to pieces.

She slides over next to him, leaning against the wall as well. Her voice is the calmest thing wafting through his head when she speaks. "This is never going to be over unless you face your fears and try to figure out what you actually mean to each other."

It’s easy in theory. But the thought of actually acting on it is giving Fitz a massive headache. “How do I do that?”

“You think, Fitz. It’s a foreign concept, I know,” Biana chuckles, nudging him in the side to make him look at her. “Just sort through your memories. You have millions, we’ve been friends since he was 7. There has to be answer in there somewhere, even if its from when you were little.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Keefe always considered himself a strong eight-year-old. He held his own even when his father battered him down, and he dusted it off with a sigh and moved on. No one helped, definitely not his mom, but that was okay. Keefe could handle it.

He was sure of that. He really could handle it, he had so many times before, watching his father tear up his doodles and drawings, scold him for his childish acts when in the back of his head he couldn’t help wonder, Am I not still a child? but was too terrified to ask. He would draw more. They would get ripped up again. It was a fine, easy cycle.

He practically lived with the Vackers, regardless of how much his father nagged at him. It was the one thing Keefe liked that he supported. Keefe didn’t know why, but he learned early on not to question the good things. Fitz and Biana were a safe space, and he would take that gladly. Being at Everglen practically erased whatever distressing moment had taken place right before, and it was easy to laugh, move on, and play bramble without a second thought. It always was.

So why wasn’t it today?

Maybe it was because the drawing was a special one. Him and Fitz, sitting by the edge of the lake, small feet swinging over the water and wind brushing through their hair. He hadn’t even gotten to finish coloring it yellow and brown before his father had snatched it up without a second thought and shredded to pieces without even looking at it. He wouldn’t dare encourage any sort of foolishness.

The drawing stayed pinned in the back of his mind though, he had his photographic memory to thank for that, and he couldn’t help but feel the slightest remorse as he thought about it, even in Fitz’s room, far away from the man who’d ruined it all in the first place. It was a pretty drawing. It would’ve looked even better finished.

Fitz might have liked it.

Keefe didn’t notice the tears dripping down his cheeks until Fitz made a surprised noise, sitting in front of him with concern etched between his brows, looking far too mature for a nine-year-old.

“Oh,” Keefe realized, wiping his cheek with small hands. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Fitz responded, teal eyes peeled open wide as he watched him. “Are you upset?”

“Only a little. It’s not a big deal,” Keefe tried to wave off. But Fitz, even at this young of an age, was always a gentlemen, and waited silently and encouragingly for Keefe to explain further.

“It’s just…my dad tore apart a drawing I made,” he elaborated, eyes steaming as the tears started coming down faster. He wiped his hands against his cheek more furiously. “I didn’t even get to finish it.”

“Why would your dad do that?” Fitz asked catiously, tilting his head with the curiousty of a young kitten.

Keefe wonders how, even at eight years old, he’d known that Fitz was a Vacker, and because of that he’d never truly understand. “He doesn’t like it when I draw.”

Fitz was silent then, and Keefe was too busy trying to stop his crying to realize, but suddenly small arms were pulling him into a warm embrace and the tear gates flooded, making him give up. “I think it’s really cool that you can draw.”

The younger tried to choke out a thank you, but the tears were choking him and he couldn’t do anything but cry into his friend’s shoulder, letting him hold him and save him from everything that waited outside of his arms, in this room, and back at home. None of it mattered if he had this, anyways. His parents didn’t matter, if there was still someone willing to hold him together. And of course that someone was Fitz.

And of course he’d ask, like always, “Want a blitzenberry muffin?”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Make me blitzenberry muffins.”

“Is that an order?” Fitz questioned, his eyebrow raising as he continued folding his tunics.

Keefe sighed dramatically, throwing himself across the elder’s bed and distracting him. “Can it be? I’m so sick of these books and I need something to bring my dampened spirits up.”

“Dampened spirits, wow, you’re a poet, Keefe,” Fitz applauded, sitting down next to him. The empath flipped his head up towards him, blonde splashing against the green sheets. “What do you even read about? Isn’t empathy kind of straight forward?”

“Not really. Just because I can feel what you’re feeling doesn’t mean I know what it is. For instance-” Keefe laced his hand through Fitz’s, startling him. “Something creepy crawly is going on in your stomach right now, but you’re head’s kinda fuzzy. I think that’s happiness?”

Fitz stopped himself from blushing. “I think so too.” Keefe grinned.

“See, it’s not like the words just come flying at me. People feel emotions differently, which makes it harder to decipher what someone else is feeling. Some emotions are easy, but others, not so much.” He sat up, keeping their hands intertwined. Fitz tried not to stare. “All those books are just theory, trying to teach you certain tells so you can guess emotions more easily. And then like…philosophy or whatever.”

“Sounds atrociously boring,” the elder commented, tearing his eyes away from their hands and getting lost in the sharp blue of Keefe’s eyes instead.

He didn’t seem to notice, huffing. “It is. That’s why I want muffins.”

“Valid.” Fitz stood up, yanking the younger along with him towards his room door. “Do you know where the kitchens around here are?”

“Calla showed me one the other day when you were staring into Sophie’s eyes or whatever,” Keefe grumbled. Fitz wonders if it was jealousy, or maybe that was just his wishful thinking. Just because he’s reinspecting their story didn’t mean he can add in details about Keefe that were never really there.

But the tightening grip on his hand was there, ever present, and Fitz hopes that Keefe didn’t notice his heart rate spike right then and there. Had he been that obvious all along? With an empath no less.

Keefe pulled him out of the treehouse and ran down the steps, pulling along Fitz just like he would when they were in Everglen, young and blissfully unaware of how dangerous the world really was. The worst problem at the time must have been Keefe’s parents.

In a bitter, unsurprising way, Fitz remembered they still were.

“There we are, the splendid gnomish kitchens,” Keefe presented with a flourish, cheeky smile flitting across his face as he walked over to the pantry. It was a kitchen alright, but everything was draped in browns and greens, giving the area a very much earthy vibe to it. Fitz loved it immediatley.

Blitzenberry muffins were routine, and soon enough the batter was being mixed together in a bowl with Keefe sitting on the counter, licking the finger he’d just dipped in without permission and Fitz shaking his head with a smile, always unable to put on a stern face at the younger’s antics. They made him feel rather normal, anyways. Like they weren’t teenage runaways or rebels or anything of the sort.

Keefe stared off into the distance as his finger left his mouth, and Fitz stared at him, watching his eyes glaze and something hard to decipher appear in them. It wasn’t the first time. Something about Keefe had been off lately, like he’d been thinking too much. There was enough to think about anyways, with his mom captured by ogres and his dad waiting back home. Even the pendant around his neck was enough to send him spiraling.

It was silent for a little too long, and Keefe’s eyes were getting a little too glassy, making the elder feel the need to interupt. “Are you okay-” Fitz started, then a tuft of white blurred his vision like a bakery-smelling blizzard. He coughed, daring to open his eyes wide to a sheepish looking Keefe with flour-stained hands.

“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all. “Intrusive thoughts.”

Fitz smiled right back, acutely aware of how ridiculous he must have looked as he slowly raised a large handful of flour from behind Keefe using telekineses, then promptly dropped it on his head. “Sorry. Intrusive thoughts.”

Keefe wiped his eyes in disbelief. “Don’t start with me.”

“You’re the one who started it!”

The younger didn’t seem to hear as more flour flew through the air, soon beginning to cover the entire kitchen in white. They ducked and hid behind the counter, laughed loudly like no one could hear them, smiled so hard their cheeks hurt from the motion. Fitz misses the feeling, misses being the cause of Keefe’s ectastic smiles instead of his nervous frowns. He misses the freedom, the moments they shared like this where there wasn’t a single other person in the world but each other, not another pair of eyes he’d ever care to look into. There wasn’t anything to see.

He misses Keefe. And his hair and his smirk and everything he’d been working hard to ignore and weave into their history just to leave them there, where they belong. But how could they belong there if Biana was right?

How could he forget about Keefe when he’d known him since they were kids?

“You’re my best friend,” Fitz spoke, breathless watching the white powder float down in the air around them like snow, like the winters they’d spent as children by the lake with ice skating and never ending adventure. Keefe was his best friend then too. Hadn’t he always been?

Hadn’t he always loved him?

“Yeah. Obviously.” Keefe smiled, shaking the flour out of his hair in Fitz’s direction, but the action was boyish enough to make his foolish heart long for a past they couldn’t reach back into. At least they had moments like this.

Not forever though.

“Nothing’s going to change, not for me and you,” Keefe added, smile softening and making the other’s heart melt right out of his ribcage.

Fitz wishes he hadn’t lied.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Leaping to Everglen is something Keefe is used to, but leaping straight onto the property will never fail to catch him off guard now that the gates have been taken away. Just another testament to how much has changed.

The way to Fitz’s room didn’t, however, so Keefe’s steps are a trail he’d walked many times before, straight down to the same door he had spent so much his childhood hidden behind. The jersey in his hands weighs more than it should, like instead of just giving back a piece of cloth, he’s about to hand over their past and everything they’d ever known. His place behind that door.

Or maybe he’s just overthinking it. Maybe he’s spent the whole day overthinking it, like the dramatic little boy he is. Things change, Keefe, the voice in his head reminds. You have to too.

He takes a deep breath, steels his face, and knocks before he can back out and leave it in Biana’s room with a note like a loser.

“Come in.” Keefe does.

The room is dark. His eyes take a moment to adjust before he notices Fitz buried underneath the blankets of his bed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling. Teal eyes lift themselves up to catch his. “Oh.”

It isn;t a bad oh, but it certainly not a good one either, and Keefe finds himself wanting to leave even faster than he came. “I found the jersey, I just thought I’d drop it o-”

“No, keep it,” Fitz decides, pushing himself up to a sitting position so he’s leaning against his pillows.

Keefe blinks in confusion. “What?”

“Keep the jersey, I don’t want it back,” he repeats, but Keefe still doesn’t understand. That isn’t what he had said that morning. All he said was that he wanted it returned!

“But you-”

“I was wrong,” Fitz shruggs. The younger can’t see him too clearly in the dark but if he’sstill wearing his nonchalant perfect Vacker smile, Keefe’s going to have a meltdown.

Or maybe he is regardless. “What do you want from me?”

Fitz might frown, Keefe can’t tell, but he sounds startled when he responds. “What do you mean?”

“I try to go and apologize to you for everything, and you don’t even let me start before you’re asking for the jersey back, and now you don’t want it anymore?!” Keefe catches his breath, eyes burning. “What were you wrong about? I wouldn’t want to be around me either.”

“I never said tha-”

“You didn’t have to.” Keefe drops the jersey to the ground, trying to keep the tears from falling out of his eyes. “I can’t even pretend to know what’s going on in your head anymore, Fitz, but that’s exactly what you wanted. And I can’t blame you, I’ve screwed this up two more times than I should have.”

“I missed you. Both times, but especially this last one. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I left and…” Keefe shakes his head, sighing under his breath. He’d practiced this more than enough times before today but here he is, and the words have run off once more, leaving his mouth dry. “I didn’t mean it like that. I would do so many things for you, Fitz, but I couldn’t stay. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I can’t be someone you still want.”

“Keefe that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.” A record player scratches in Keefe’s mind, prompting him to look up again. Fitz is climbing out of his bed as he speaks. “Of course I still want you. I spent so much time missing you, and convincing myself you would be okay, and that all of this would be okay that I didn’t even stop to notice that it wasn’t. I don’t want the jersey back, because I want it to be with you. I want you to have the memories-”

“I don’t want memories,” he interrupts. Fitz stops right in front of him, looking down at his eyes and making Keefe gulp. That godforsaken height difference will never go away, will it? “I… That summer, I don’t know if I was imagining it but-”

Fitz grabs his hand and suddenly Keefe is hit with purple butterflies and crimson vines wrapping their way around his chest tight enough to suffocate him. “You’re not imagining anything.”

If those are Fitz’s emotions he’s feeling, and if he’s looking into his eyes like that, and if he’d meant it all back then, then maybe there isn’t much to make excuses for anymore when he leans in.

Keefe had missed it, the feeling of Fitz so close, his emotions flowing through the younger’s veins, so much stronger now, so much more desperate. Like they’d been starved for too long. Even the stupid bend in his neck when Fitz tilts his head up with a hand on his chin is nostalgic in a way.

It’s still dark, but that doesn’t stop Fitz’s eyes from twinkling when they separate, noses so close they were touching. Keefe could feel his breath hit his cheek as he whispered, tracing a finger along his cheekbones. “It’s always been you.”

26 notes · View notes

tearsoftime0086 · 8 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

Stealing a neat post from @sweepseven and we'll see how far we get haha. I haven't posted all of my stuff to AO3 so I'll kinda be pulling from a few places

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 6! And half of them are from July till now lmao (aka the moment I learned about Steve Burnside)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

49,691

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Gosh if I kept consistent fandoms it would make my fandom experience so much more easier :') Started out with Gundam, though haven't really kept up post my move away from FFNet (really want to come back at some point tho). Code Geass and TKoE is my long-running baby. Currently swept up in a Resident Evil fever too (see previous question). I've also written some stuff for League of Legends, Persona 2, and Fire Emblem!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ravaged Blessings (Fire Emblem: Three Houses, T. Wrote this during the rising peak of FE3H's release. Started out with Blue Lions and whoa nelly I was not prepared for Dimitri's post-timeskip scene.)

Two Kinds of Eternity (Code Geass, M. The behemoth. I had this idea in my head for ages and once I joined AO3 in 2018, decided to finally give it a shot. It's been five years and we're only halfway there, but I'm glad folks have hopped on and off for the ride)

An Eternal Warpath For You And Me (Resident Evil, M. Most recent fic of mine that I'm thankful has gotten a lot of kind reception! Aka Chreon + me fitting Steve into the Resident Evil-verse as best I can haha)

Shuriman Nights (League of Legends, T. Bit of a kudos drop from this point forward, but I love all my works the same, so :) I will never be over Nasus and Renekton's lore.)

Once (That Was Enough) (Resident Evil, M. EVERYTIME I WATCH THE DARKSIDE CHRONICLES CUTSCENES I HAVE TO COME BACK AND RE-READ THIS ONE. The genesis of my sprawling RE AU)

With 6 fics, that leaves We'll Always Have Casablanca out of the standings! Turns out that fic was the first anyone used the Leon & Steve tag. Pure self-indulgence so I understand why it's the lowest haha

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to answer all of them! I have moments in life when I feel way too anxious about what to write back (like am I clogging up my own comments section? will they think it's weird if I write more than their initial comment?), but I work really hard to recognize the people who leave nice notes on my fics.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm a sucker for happy endings (everything else in the story is fair game tho) so I hardly ever end something too angsty... I guess Shuriman Nights for its implications?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Once (That Was Enough). Capcom, I reject your reality and substitute my own.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I had a few small cases, but it's not frequent at all. I try to mind my own business and let folks be ^^

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

As someone who's like 90% sure they're ace/sex-repulsed, I don't. It narrows my scope of reading fanfic too unfortunately - some of the best written works I've seen are rated E, but I have to kinda "hold my breath" while reading them :(

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I never posted it anywhere, but I had a sprawling DCMK/Gundam crossover I shared with a close friend of mine. Still re-read parts of it from time to time. (Silver Bullet Shinichi, anyone?)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge! I write so slowly that they probably wouldn't be able to steal it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope but it would be a blessing if anyone ever asked!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Again not posted, but I used to do a ton of co-writing with that same close friend mentioned above. Good times.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Ooh this one's a tough one. If I have to choose, it's Kamille Bidan/Fa Yuiry from Zeta Gundam. It's what really started my fanfic journey, and I'll never forget the pure elation I felt watching their beach ending in Gundam ZZ. Wonder how I'd write something for them in the present? It's been so long...

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

If I thought about my deepest fears it would be TKoE, but I refuse. I will finish that fic. For a more realistic answer, I have a lot of mini-scenes for my Claire/Steve RE AU that I want to string into a full fic at some point, but I already have so many things on my plate.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm. I like to think that in my writing peaks, I have a good sense of capturing character voices and dialogue. I'm also good at coming up with like, "angsty" one-liners, if that makes sense?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Gosh this one's much easier than the last one. My posting rate is abysmal for starters (sorry to all the TKoE readers). I feel like every other sentence I write is clunky and long. Like on re-reads I can usually shave a few adjectives and words off of every sentence. I get impatient about pacing when I'm actually writing, but my actual writing sessions are few and far between. Tough times man :(

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Different strokes for different folks, but I'm always afraid that a reader will get whiplash if I write in a language that I'm not comfortable with. Like sometimes I'll read fics where they reference Korean and it ruins my focus a bit when I read something that's not grammatically correct/realistic. Nothing to drop a fic over, but I'm not confident enough to write in another language myself.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I don't remember off the top of my head. The first one I posted online was for Zeta Gundam, but also I think I have a small A Separate Peace story from around that time? Lol if I go back to my childhood original works, those stories were essentially Guardians of Ga'Hoole and Bionicle fanfics too.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Once (That Was Enough) takes the cake right now. I remember looking on TVTropes for... Tragic Monster examples I believe?... and found a quick summary of Steve Burnside. Oh dear, that lad has me in his clutches and won't let me go. I had to write a story where he survives, and well... the rest is history. I even have a tag dedicated to the AU the fic spawned! Well, that was a ton of fun! If anyone reads this and wants to do it themselves, feel free to! Hoping to get more stuff out soon :)

#random musings #bits and baubles

4 notes · View notes

illfoandillfie · 11 months

Note

Hi sweetheart, i hope you are doing great! i think you are a beautiful person and an amazing writer, i’ve written lots of things already but i would like to hear some advice from you about writing so i can improve my skills, i really love writing 🫶🏻😩🥹🥰💌✨

lots of love from Argentina

oh gosh im 🤧🤧 thank you, thats so lovely of you to say!

First of all I keep a writing advice tag for any posts I come across with useful writing tips. Some of them are really general, some of them are about writing specific things (like kissing or children), so probably not everything in there will be useful but hopefully some of it is.

As for my own advice.... none of it is going to be groundbreaking stuff. I've never studied writing, I don't think too hard about how I write, and at the end of the day I just write silly fics about silly boys to keep myself entertained. But I'll put a few things under the cut. These are all more general sort of tips so if there are any specific parts of writing you want me to talk about let me know and I'll see what I can give you!

Number 1 is to just have fun with it. Don't get hung up worrying about if a concept is cringe or if its something no one else will like or if it sounds too much like something else you wrote. If it's an idea that interests you, then you're going to find it easier and probably more fun to write. And if you already love writing then you don't want writing to turn into a chore or something you don't enjoy.

Number 2 is to read real books. Reading fanfic is great and fun but it's very useful to read some books that have been professionally edited and published too. There is a craft to writing things that sound good and one of the fastest ways to learn what sounds good is to read books. You don't have to study them or analyse them, your brain will just pick up on patterns, on how sentences fit together, on what sounds good and what doesn't.

One of my fave examples of this is the way we describe things, at least in the English language. There is an unwritten formula for making a description sound good. opinion, size, age, shape, colour, origin, material, purpose. It's why saying "the silly little pink French book" sounds good but "the pink silly French little book" sounds very strange. No one is taught this formula, no one does it consciously. It's just that one sounds better than the other. And it's the sort of thing you subconsciously pick up from reading.

Number 3 is don't be afraid to do some research. No one knows everything. Sometimes you'll want to write about something that isn't super familiar to you. Whether that be because you're writing is set in a different country to where you are, or you're writing a smut scene with a kink/position you've never done in real life, or you're writing a character with a kid when you don't have kids. Research it! Go on google maps and find the place you want to write about so you can see how the streets look. Find a cosmo article or a youtube video that talks about the kink. Find a site that includes those little drawings of sexual positions (or heck, find some porn if thats more helpful) so you can see how it looks. Find a blog post from a parent and see how they talk about their kid. Listen or watch interviews if you're writing RPF to see how your person talks and what their mannerisms are. Not everything has so be 100% accurate and you're absolutely allowed to make some stuff up but if there's anything you feel unsure about, see if some research helps you.

Number 4 is to read everything you write out loud, but especially dialogue. Sometimes things can sound good while you're writing it but then when you read it back you realise it sounds clunky or it doesn't flow properly. Plus it helps you pick up on mistakes you might otherwise miss (like incorrect spelling or if you meant to delete a sentance but didn't). And I say especially for dialogue because when people talk they'll abbreviate words, they include slang, they use contractions. By reading things out loud to yourself you can hear where inflections are, you can hear if something sounds too formal, or wrong for the emotion you're trying to convey. When I write I make sure that I read it out loud to myself when I'm editing. You don't have to read it to someone else and you can whisper it under your breath so no one else will hear, but it is one of the best things you can do while editing or even if you get stuck while writing a conversation. Sometimes just hearing it out loud will help you identify why its not working.

Those are all the things I can think of off the top of my head but like i said if theres any areas of writing that I haven't mentioned that you'd like my take on let me know!

#writing advice #i dont know how much this will help #defs see what else is in the tag too!

3 notes · View notes

siancore · 1 year

Note

Siancore...Siancore...darling. I think its unfair for you to want someone to pick ONE of your stories. For me that list is very long but I was able to dwindle it down to 3. Can I just say - you have a gift of filling up a story with complete vulnerability and potency (if that makes sense). Your writing is very captivating and these are those that really gained my attention and stories I still go back to, even now.

The Dusk of Memory - Now I love angst and you fed a me with the angst for this one. Rick losing his memory, lori taking advantage of this situation, Michonne filled with self doubt. Sheesh you killed yet healed my heart for this one. Especially when Rick started remembering little memories of their time together.

This ain’t Georgia - Imagine if The Walking Dead started off differently....Rick and Michonne WERE married and the outbreak started". This one holds dear to my heart due to you giving me an a view of how things would go (no ill to Lori) if Rick was married to Michonne. I know its not finished (forgive me if this is wrong) but this is the one I am definitely going to go back to when the their side show for Rick and Michonne hits on TV cus that reunion scene in this story. Trying to remember it now, I KNOW I WAS CRYING! when rick asked to see his son....

Under Her Watch - Okay...I am so happy to be in another fandom with you. I need you to know how much weight this holds with me. Recalling when I saw your first post about Okoye and Attuma....my gosh! I love Attuma! I love Okoye! I love that fight scene! Their energy in that film lit something in me. Two characters who deserve love! (also The Warrior's Accord series)

Honorable Mentions: Warm & Four Walls

I love your writing and how you drive the essence of the characters. Content from movies/tv shows give us so little and what you take from that is remarkable. Your writing really speaks of yourself that makes me feel closer to you than I really am. let me stop cus I could talk great things about you for days.....💚💚💚

Oh my heart this is so amazing. Thank you for his detailed feedback. Goodness, there are fics of mine here I haven't thought of in ages. I feel so bad about not looking at them in so long, but I am floored that you still enjoy these stories.

I will have a new Richonne one-shot posted for Danai's birthday/Valentine's Day, so I hope that makes it up to you for my not editing TAG -- it's in my drafts, I've just been shit. Ha! Seriously, I have the next chappie in my drafts and haven't felt motivated to open the document. Hearing from you now is making me want to get back to it.

Now, Okoye and Attuma? I fricken love them, too. And it's nice to be in a new ship fandom with people from your other ship fandom. I know I'm safe here :')

Now, I am gonna implode because of your kind words about my writing. That's so special what you've said here, and I never even thought about it that way: That you feel closer to me because of the way I place pieces of myself in the way I write characters. I didn't even realise I was doing that. I just love who I love and want to do the best that I can to do justice to their characterisations.

This Ask has really encouraged me to go back and look at my old fics. Thank you for that. And thank you for the immense love and support. I am feeling it right now. I hope everything is going well for you x

P.S. Another fic in The Warriors' Accord series is coming soon. Very soon.

#richonne #attoye #fandom love from fandom lovelies

13 notes · View notes

disco-tea · 2 years

Text

I was tagged by @summers-pratt to rank the seasons of BTVS and list my top 3 episodes from each season. This is gonna be messyyyyyy cuz I haven’t watched every episode and I am a ways out from my potential chronological rewatch skdks

Seasons:

5, 2, 4, 6, 1, 7, 3

Top 3 Episodes per season:

Season 1:

Prophecy Girl, Nightmares, The Puppet Show

Season 2:

Becoming ii, Lie To Me (ITS THE THESIS BY WHICH THE WHOLE SEASON IS BASED ON IM NORMAL I SWEAR), School Hard

Season 3: (in my embarrassment era)

This is the season I’ve seen the least episodes of smh my favoritism is showing

Lover’s Walk, Dead Man’s Party(because it Shows Us things about the characters and narratives that will show up again later on), aaaand. Gosh I DONT FULLY REMEMBER HELPLESS ITS BEEN AGES BUT I WANNA REWATCH.

Season 4:

Restless, Something Blue, Doomed

Season 5: (in our god tier era)

Fool For Love (MAKES ME INSANE), Spiral, Blood Ties

Season 6:

After Life, Tabula Rasa, Flooded

Season 7: (awkward era because I’ve seen it All but it mostly doesn’t make me Insane)

Touched, Lessons (insanity and ROOTS), and Help because it made me cry.

Tagging: @munseneddie @spikedru @raggeddypond @messedupdoilies

#tag game #buffy the vampire slayer

9 notes · View notes

asphodelical · 5 months

Text

Brief FFXV/XVI comparisons

Knowing the dev team of FFXIV headed FFXVI, it feels like they were singing, “Anything you can do, I can do Better” in the face of FFXV. Many of the key story elements and beats are identical: An orphaned prince clad in black who was a supposed heir to a noble bloodline, the hero��s kingdom being destroyed in the beginning, a deadly plague that is slowly consuming the world and its people, etc. Hell, they both end with a 1v1 duel and both the heroes and villains die at the end. Except FFXVI actually has a cohesive, more focused narrative, better lore, and smarter world building. It also has a massive advantage over FFXV since it is a self contained story—not a bullshit multimedia project where you have to watch a movie, an OVA and play four separate DLC games.

Things I liked:

Torgal. Best boy.

Mothercrystals - Both the crystal’s role and appearance are really fucking cool. It takes the basic premise of the original FF games, and looks at it realistically. (Though I felt robbed since we didn’t see the heart of the purple crystal in Waloed.)

The interpretation of the summons and Dominants. - Similar to the crystals, I like how people across Valisthea have such different thoughts on the Dominants: fear, reverence, worship, etc. Their character designs are very appealing. It’s also great to see summons who haven’t appeared in a game in well over a decade.

Cid - Easily a candidate for the best Cid, only rivaling Cid Highwind and maybe Balthier’s dad. He was one of the few characters who had a distinct voice. (Along with Mid.)

The music - Opinions on this game are all over the place. The one thing everyone universally agrees on is the music fucking rules. It definitely deserved its prize at the Game Awards. Great job, Masayoshi Soken.

The Hades-esque combat system for Clive. It was fun experimenting with all the powers and abilities.

Nektar - MOOGLE. We actually had a moogle in a FF game for the first time since FFIX. HAPPY DAYS.

No day/night cycle. No fishing. No forced mini games. Fast travel was accessible from the start. Blessed dreams.

Things I didn’t like:

Jill is useless. She has no agency. Her confrontation with her abusers was ruined, since Clive did all the fighting in that encounter. They should’ve done what they did with Joshua, and given us control over Jill/Shiva just that one time. After the ocean fight with Barnabas, why did she waste time creating a path on the ocean floor, instead of turning into Shiva and flying themselves out of there? So stupid. And don’t get me started on the sad excuse for a romantic relationship she had with Clive. What a waste of the only female party member. (Also, why does she look so much like Tifa?)

Lack of interaction with other party members, and a lack of a core party - Sparse off the cuff conversations/remarks, no tag team attacks, no breathing room for these characters to simply exist. And when they do, it feels out of place. (I.E. the optional picnic scene with Jill and Clive that felt like watching two rocks try to talk to each other.) Final Fantasy has always been a franchise that has always had a group of eccentrics of different ages, creeds, and species banding together to fight a shared enemy. FFXVI loses that entirely. With a large portion of the game just being Clive and Torgal, this could be any other dark-ish fantasy game. (My ideal core party would be Clive, Joshua, Cid, who would then be replaced by Mid. Byron, Gav and Dion would rotate as guest party members. Jill can go away.)

Lack of good character writing and dialogue. It feels like a redux of FFXII, where the dialogue is dramatic, poetic, and oh gosh no almost everyone talks the same, and the core cast has such little personality.

Too many characters and too many unnecessary story elements. - Torgal being a frost wolf? Doesn’t matter. Sleipnir being an ‘egi’? Doesn’t matter. Spend more time on your characters, dammit!

How every goal, main and side, is impeded by a seven step process. Oh, we have to get through this gate? Well first you have to talk to five people for a fetch quest, run to another area, and defeat two rounds of mooks followed by a mini boss. GIVE ME A BREAK. Are you so insecure about your story and its run time that you have to have bumps in the road at every single turn?

The length of the boss battles. If I weren’t on story mode, some of these battles would take me over an hour (and multiple tries). The Bahamut fight in particular was absolutely absurd.

So many of the problems could’ve been solved if characters just waltzed into places and killed their targets immediately. Clive could’ve stabbed Hugo in the back before the hallucinations kicked in. If Dion just threw his lance at Anabella or Olivier instead of making a whole fucking speech, then maybe he wouldn’t have killed his dad. It feels like nearly everyone in the game is just stupid.

#video games #final fantasy

1 note · View note

wooahaes · 2 years

Note

saw the tags of ur most recent post and,,,what’s ur favorite layton game? i’ve only played one on the ds and it was sooo hard as a kid, but i wanna play more of them !

+ a similar ask from a lovely anon!

Oh my gosh, Professor Layton! I absolutely adore that series. Which one is your favourite? Mine was always Miracle Mask because I found the characters and the story interesting, but Curious Village will always be special to me because it was my first. The Phoenix Wright crossover was cool, too. Damn, now I have to go back and replay them all again. The nostalgia is so real, but it was always nice to start getting more puzzles right first try as I aged. Take care! ❤️

(since you both asked the same question, i figured i'd combine asks and answer them at the same time!!)

it's been a while since i've played the layton series tbh! i really should replay it sometime. i think i really enjoyed both diabolical box + unwound future (american titles bc im an american) since i played the first trilogy in reverse order i'm pretty sure, so i have a soft spot for both of them. i admittedly used to write self insert fanfic for the series when i was younger lol but i was having a good time <3

literally went from 11 year old having fun to 15-16 year old cringing hard and saying self inserts are bad to 22 year old me today being like "actually self inserts are fun, idk what she was on"

i never actually played the phoenix right crossover or the one w katrielle tbh! its been sooo long since i've played the entire series... one day i'll replay all of it from start to finish.

also big mood to anon!! playing them as a kid was relying on a lot of walkthroughs for certain puzzles and eventually i kinda grew out of it. except for the fucking chocolate puzzle (number 67) in curious village...... fuck her. its only in the US version too!!!! like !!!! evil. fuck that puzzle. >:/

i still recommend the games for anyone who likes puzzles tho sdfkhsdf just know that the US version of that puzzle...... its so evil.

both of you take care tho! <3

#wooahaes.ask #pearlygraysky #and also #asks.anon

0 notes

iwadori · 3 years

Text

When they leave you on your wedding day (Sakusa, Bokuto)

Genre: angst

Word count: 1.7K

masterlist

Sakusa’s will make more sense if you read this you don’t have too but it’ll help.

Sakusa:

“Y/N,” you hear knocks on the door outside your dressing room “I-I need to talk to you.”

“But Omi, a groom must never see their bride until they meet at the alter,” you say behind the door.

“I-It’s important, and I must tell you right now.” he says a bit more intensely

“Okay, Okay... you can come in but im hiding in the closet since my dress is already on.”

“Ok.”

You hear the door open and shut, and a lot of pacing around of what you can presume was his fresh wedding shoes trotting against the hard wood floors.

“Omi,” you call wondering why he hasn’t spoken yet “Is everything okay?”

“Umm yes I-it's fine...it just I-” he says pausing

“Just what?”

“I don’t really know how to say this Y/N, I don’t really know how to say it’s just-” he says again pausing himself taking a deep breath.

“Just what Omi? Don’t tell me you’ve got cold feet love,” you say laughing at the thought of it, but your laughter ceased when you don’t hear the ‘Of course I don’t have cold feet Y/N’ that you were expecting.

“Omi?” you asked again, hoping he had he was still going to give you the response you wanted.

“Omi..” you repeated.

“Omi!” you say finally, now exiting the room (with your wedding dress on) to see why your fiance was not responding.

To your shock, Omi was sitting down on a couch with his face in his hands with soft sobs coming from his mouth and runny tears and snot coming from his eyes and nose. “Omi whats wrong?” you say loudly, alerting him,

“Y/N you look beautiful!” he says sniffling.

“Omi you were meant to say that at the alter, but now that your crying forget about the dress... what’s wrong?” you say sitting down next to him.

“I don’t know how to say this...” he starts, looking away from you

“Say what? Omi look at me...” you say feeling anxious

“We...We can’t get married today,” he says still with his eyes off you.

“What do you mean, we can’t get married.” you ask but you get no answer,

“Omi answer me,”

“Say something please!” you say turning his body so that he’s facing you, his eyes are all puffy and bloodshot from the crying and now tears are filling yours “What do you mean Omi,”

“Remember Ex’s name?” he says confusing you cause what did she have to do with anything.

“Yes I remember her, I remember vividly being the girl you cheated on her with after you claimed you were ‘breaking up with her’ so I had to tell her.” you scoff “so yes, I definitely remember Y/N, what about her?”

“We recently umm how can I say this,” he says struggling for words “reconnected... and I do truly miss her and she’s made me rethink some things, see some things...”

“And those things are?”

“I’ve always loved her, she’s always been my one. The one.” he says smiling a bit at the thought of her making you feel sick.

“But Omi what about us? What about the wedding that’s going to happen in less than an hour?”

“Im sorry Y/N I’ll tell everyone what has happened.”

“I don’t want you to do that, I want you to marry me.” you say desparetly “please Omi, why her? Why now..”

“It’s always been her, and you’ve known that.” he says standing up “The day you told her about our ONE NIGHT stand, was the day that I thought I couldn’t live on, but when you came and accepted the pathetic mess I was, I gladly dated you since I had nothing else to loose...but its been 4 years since then I'm a changed man and EX NAME is a changed girl, a forgiving girl and the spark we had wasn’t lost I guess...and Im happy now”

“But what about me?” you say crying “What about me? And my happiness, don’t I deserve that? Don’t I deserve to finally be happy.”

“Y/N, you do deserve to be happy. But not with me, not at the stake of my own happiness, I wont allow it.”

“Omi bu-”

“God Y/N, don’t be so desperate!” he said agressively “Im sorry for stopping the wedding, I know your parents have put in alot of money in it and I will certainly pay them back... in due time of course.”

“You’re sorry for stopping the wedding?” you say angrily “Not sorry for stopping this relationship. Stopping the longlasting feelings ive felt for you since the day I met you?”

“Cut the crap Y/N, all we did was have one night stand.” he says rolling his eyes and unbuttoning his top botton of his shirt and loosening his tie I dont know why but this Is what guys do when theyre mad in the movies.

“Your such a liar Omi, you used to come into my work place everyday flirting with me talking about how much you wanted me, PINING AFTER ME, making me fall in love with you and not even telling me you had a girlfriend at the time.” you yell “and you summarise that all to me falling in love with you after one measly one night stand.”

“I don’t want to do this Y/N,” he says heading to the door “We’re finished. No more wedding. No marriage. And definitely don’t contact me after this. We’re through.” he slams the door behind him, leaving you alone and jilted in your wedding dress.

You get why he broke it off with you, and technically you do play a small part to blame. You were the one that told his girlfriend that you slept with him and then dated him afterwards, so I guess ‘how you get them, is how you lose them’ definitely works in this case.

Bokuto

The bokuto and L/N wedding was going to be a joyous occasion. Your soon to be husband told everybody he saw that he were to be wed with you, he couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Bokuto calm down, we’ll be married soon.” was what you always said, whenever he started his rambles to which he always replied “I know Y/N, I cant wait.”

When it came to your grand day, you were excited from the moment you woke up you were buzzing, wondering if Bokuto was feeling even a half of the feelings that you felt.

You looked beautiful in your dress, anticipating the look on Bokuto’s face when he sees you at that alter. Your wedding party was already at the hotel you were getting married at whilst Bokuto’s got ready at the houe and decided to drive there.

So after you got ready, all you had to do is wait for Kuroo, one of Bokuto’s best men, to tell you when it’s time for you to walk down the aisle.

You were impatient, your leg was shaking now you knew how Bokuto felt when he rambled on how excited he was for you to become Bokuto Y/N. You finally heard a knock on the door and you dashed to open it,

“Kuroo, thank god you’re here!” you exclaim giving him a hug “I’ve been waiting ages for you, lets go! Take me to my future husband.” You pull his arm practically trying to run and see your man before Kuroo pulls your arm halting you.

“Y/N...” he says shifting his eye sight from left to right “I think we should sit down for a minute.”

“Why? Is he not here yet, gosh he’s always been late to things” you joke “but fine we can sit for a minute or two.”

As you sat, Kuroo turns his body to you putting his hands on your knees with his eyes looking sad “Y/N. I don’t know how to say this but...” he gulps putting his head down “there’s been an accident.”

“Accident? What do you mean accident? What happened? Is everyone okay.” you ask a bit frantically, since it would sad for someone to be hurt on your wedding day.

“That’s the thing Y/N, Bokuto he..”

“Bokuto what? He’s okay.. Right?” you ask staring at Kuroo “He’s fine right?”

“No he isnt,” he says

“What do you mean he isn’t what happened, where is he? I need to see him.” you say getting up before Kuroo pulls you back down.

“He isn’t anywhere... well anywhere for you to see him. There weren’t enough cars for us, well there were but one of them the engine wasn’t starting and it sound a bit dodgy. But Bokuto said, he insisted for us all to be there. I even offered to let him take my spot in the other cars, I did Y/N I really did, but he promised us that he’d be fine. He left a bit before he did, saying that if he had chance to wander around the hotel it may calm his nerves. But when we were driving, we saw this car all mangled up on the side of the road, it was his. I told him not to drive that car, I told him and he did and I-” he rambled with tears pooling in his eyes “Im sorry Y/N im really sorry.”

“But why why didn’t you call?”

“He told us not too, he said that he wanted you be to as happy as you could be on this day as he knew it wouldn’t end with you becoming his wife.”

“But the ambulance, you called an ambulance right?”

“He was D.O.A, Akaashi went with him since he knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to deliver the news to you.”

“Why? Why did he leave me? On our wedding day, it was supposed to be our day and now hes gone Kuroo hes gone.” you wail, but kuroo wraps his arms around you in a brotherly hug as he cries too.

That’s how you spend your wedding night, crying in your friends arms over the loss of your ‘husband’ and his ‘brother.’

Bokuto’s funeral was the week after, and it was not an event you were excited for. It was a hard day to get through, but you did it with the help of Kuroo and Akaashi. You visit Bokuto every year on your wedding anniversary talking to your husband even though it always reminds you of the day that never came to be.

This is the wedding angst that is a gift from me to you sweetheart @teesumu you can totally block me after this cause girll I cried whilst writing it.

If you want a nice ending to the bokuto story to make you feel better read this

General taglist [bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi, @iimoonii, @hamdehlesmis, @Shoyosupremacy, @iambashfulperson, @kayleighbeccaa, @dearkousei, @bakugouswh0r3, @xedspirits @borpcorp, @soft-angel-clouds, @foxxtrot-116 @Xogiaaa, @jesssobs, @apple-poptarts @galagcica @letssssus, @random-734, [join the taglist here]

#signedwithane😌#haikyu angst #haikyu headcanons #haikyu scenarios #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #bokuto scenarios #sakusa angst #sakusa x reader #sakusa scenarios

429 notes · View notes

lilflowerpot · 2 years

Note

Reading ur tags on the Blaytz ask lol, and gosh yeah the unknown quality of galra lifespans!! What are they?? Voltron Canon, please, I just need a straight answer!!

To be honest, I just make up my own ages for that since headcanon is the only thing I can rely on in that area.

Galra seem to be naturally long lived; possibly near an altean’s lifespan, or at least long enough that a couple centuries is probably pretty natural?? But either the Zarkon Propaganda Machine is simply That effective since only Allura and Coran ever seem shocked by his age, or quintessence has some pretty interesting effects on lifespans! (Discounting the zombie thing, since I am… Assuming that’s not common knowledge dhfjgkgk.) So it’s pretty fun to imagine the effects that quintessence could have, or at least it is for me.

Although, now, thinking about it, I’m incredibly curious as to whether you yourself have any quintessence-related headcanons!

[Blaytz ask]

I have a couple of posts addressing this exact topic in depth, if you're interested! In fact, the larger of the two - Altean/Galran/Human Aging & Lifespans - was one half of the very reason I created this blog in the first place, and only the second thing I ever posted here! The smaller was a follow-up posted a good year or so later, if I remember rightly, that specifically focused on the ages of Lotor's generals (who I'd not originally mentioned). I think the only other posts in which I've explored galra lifespans are in my two brief yet frustrated rants about Dayak [i][ii] concerning the fact that she absolutely should not have still been alive in canon, but that is neither here nor there.

As for quintessence, it //absolutely// has an immense impact on the lifespan of any given creature that comes into prolonged contact with it; we see this clearly demonstrated in canon time and time again, but in LB the Big Three are Zarkon, Haggar, and Kova! But the quintessence itself isn't exactly the reason for their immortal status, or not the sole reason at least. I clarified my thoughts on what exactly present-day Zarkon is relatively recently, but the short version is that the thing that came back from the Rift wearing Zarkon's skin is only half Zarkon; in truth, it's a denizen of Sa, the same kind of creature that possesses both Voltron & Sincline, and due to Zarkon's body being an organic vessel (ie. not an adequate container for what is essentially an eldritch horror) its insatiable hunger for quintessence has corrupted its host beyond recognition... and made him immortal as a side-effect.

My only remaining quintessence headcanon - regarding its colouration and subsequent properties - is one I don't think I've shared before (?) though given the obscene quantity of posts now on this blog, it is entirely possible that I have, only to lose it among everything else ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But if I have shared it, I’ve certainly not gone into this much depth, so brace yourselves my loves, for it is another long one..

“[Quintessence] is the substance with the highest known energy per unit volume in the universe. Raw quintessence material is transported here from throughout the galaxy and refined into standardized Galra fuel requirements.”

- galra sentry, VLD, s01ep10

Canon established quintessence as taking three distinct forms; raw (gold) and refined (violet) quintessence are both featured in s01ep10, wherein Keith witnesses a druid transforming it from the former state into the latter, while its third form - concentrated (white-blue) quintessence - is first featured in s01ep08 when Allura heals the balmera. Now I, being who I am, took that which we were given in canon and elaborated on it, but we’ll get to that in a minute. The established facts are as follows:

(1.) The quintessence used by sacred alteans, such as Allura & Alfor, is potent enough that Allura was able to heal an entire balmera by herself. Though the balmerans were seen to support her in the ceremony, they show no notable signs of strain or exhaustion afterwards, whereas Allura herself collapses immediately upon the ceremony’s conclusion and is shown to still be weak and recovering in the following episode, implying that the physical burden was solely on her shoulders.

(2.) As pictured above, s01ep10 clearly depicted the transformation process of raw (gold) quintessence into its refined (violet) counterpart, and what really struck me about this was the difference in container size between those used for the two types: the raw quintessence container is clearly the height of the druid (who I’d estimate to be at least seven foot tall) whereas the refined quintessence container is a mere fraction of that, allowing Keith to hold it in one hand. Though it’s not entirely clear exactly how many refined containers one cylinder of raw quintessence equates to, we know it’s a bare minimum of three: the one created at the process' beginning (13:48), the one stolen by Keith (17:22), and the one beside which the druid places aforementioned stolen container (17:52). There’s certainly potential for there to have been others created off-screen, due to the episode cutting between Keith and the other paladins, but not many; we know that this entire scene only takes place over the span of - at most - ten minutes due to Allura & Shiro’s plot, in which they acknowledge that they only have “a few minutes” before the next patrol comes by, happening simultaneously.

So, “why is this important?” you ask. Well the answer to that is volume.

If we assume that the large cylindrical container’s height is (judging by a combination of the druid in comparison to Keith, and my beloved height chart) approximately 7 feet or 84 inches, then its width, which I measured at about a third of said height, would be 28 inches. The calculation for volume is as follows:

volume = πr² x height

volume = π(14²) x 84

volume = 51,723.2 cubic inches, or 847.6 litres

Using this same calculation, we can also find the volume of the refined quintessence container, assuming that its height is (given its appearance in comparison to Keith) 12 inches and its width 4 inches:

volume = πr² x height

volume = π(2²) x 12

volume = 150.8 cubic inches, or 2.5 litres

So the large cylinders contain approximately 847.6 litres, while the small cylinders (of which we saw three, though I should expect there were several more) contain 2.5 litres. The obvious inconsistency thus being that one large cylinder should equate to a grand total of 339 smaller cylinders... and there’s no way we missed that many. It’s not like the large cylinder still had more to give, either- at 19:16 we see a new container of raw quintessence being loaded up, implying the previous one was fully depleted, so, somehow, there appears to be a massive imbalance in the ratio of raw:processed quintessence, despite there being no physical state change (ie. the quintessence is still apparently liquid post-druidic-tampering).

Begging the question; why?

The principle of energy conservation states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. It may, however, transform from one type to another. You can look up Sankey Diagrams if you want to understand this better, but what I’m essentially getting at is that - druidic magic or not - it is, according to the laws of physics, impossible for such a massive quantity of raw quintessence to be condensed down into such a tiny quantity of refined quintessence... unless there is a massive loss of energy somewhere along the line; watching that scene again, a fair amount of it likely dissipates as light energy (and possibly heat energy too), ultimately meaning that the druidic method of quintessence conversion is so inefficient that even if we generously assume that the druid produced a total of 20 containers of refined quintessence (17 of which we didn't see), it would appear that the resultant volume of refined quintessence stands at less than 6% of its raw counterpart.

This brings us to the question of density; it’s entirely possible that refined quintessence could be rather a lot denser (ie. the molecules are packed together more tightly, meaning that it has greater mass per volume) than raw quintessence, though it does still remain liquid. For argument’s sake, let us say the difference is comparable to that between water (with a density of 1.0 g/mL) and mercury (the densest liquid on Earth, at a value of 13.5 g/mL). Due to raw quintessence having a density of 1.0, its mass would be of an identical value to its volume (847.6), but as this is not the case for refined quintessence, the calculation would be:

mass = density x volume

refined quintessence mass = 13.5 x (2.5 x 20)

refined quintessence mass = 13.5 x 50

refined quintessence mass = 675g

Meaning that a mass of 847.6g in its raw state, has been reduced to 675g in its refined state. Not nearly so catastrophic as the aforementioned 6% would have made it appear, but still with a loss of ~20.4% total.

So really, it’s little wonder that the Empire has need of the Komar.

With their methodology of refinement being so inefficient, you’d think that the galra (having had literal millennia with Zarkon & Haggar at the helm) would have figured out how to utilise raw quintessence in its natural state, rather than wasting so much of its power. The fact that they haven't, means that they likely can’t... which is where it falls to me to decide why this is the case.

So raw (gold) quintessence is the substance’s naturally occurring form, the very essence of nature and the universe itself, but as such it is in equal parts powerful and volatile, making it exceedingly dangerous to handle. Though galra of Druidic bloodlines are able to manipulate raw quintessence in this untempered form, Haggar has taught generations of Druids how to convert it into a far more stable and malleable state (violet), standardised for Imperial use, but in doing so they significantly lessen its potency. The graph pictured above compares the different types of quintessence with regard to the relationship between quantity and volatility; generally speaking, the more liquid quintessence contained in one area, the greater the chance of the literal essence of the universe doing something unexpected and potentially catastrophic (and with increasing likelihood at that), but the degree to which this is true is variable depending upon the type of quintessence one is dealing with. Raw quintessence, as you can see, becomes quite rapidly dangerous when amassed in significant quantities, and the amount required to power a military-grade Imperial ship’s average energy consumption per 100,000 lightyears of travel (marked with X) sits over the marker for dangerous levels of volatility. Refined (violet) quintessence, however, is much less volatile, and though it requires almost twice as much refined quintessence to power the same military-grade Imperial vessel under the same circumstances, its level of volatility is less than half of its raw counterpart, and sits comfortably below that aforementioned danger zone.

Finally, we have concentrated (white-blue) quintessence: that which a rare few “sacred” Alteans possessed the ability to convert from the universe around them, transforming raw (gold) quintessence into a form that could be effectively utilised without compromising its power to any significant degree. This ability, however, subjected their bodies to extreme strain, and while there are natural inhibitors in altean brains to stop them from doing so in excess, if they were to forcibly transcend these limitations the untempered excess would likely trigger a rapid decomposition of their genetic structure. That being said, although altean quintessence is somewhat more volatile than refined quintessence, it is far more potent, and so a far smaller quantity of it would be required to reap the same rewards, making it the most efficient form of quintessence in terms of its power:stability ratio.

#ADDENDUM// I managed to somehow just.. completely skip over density (oops) so that has now been added in #fantasy science is my jam but even //I// was not about to assign specific figures to quintessence quantity vs volatility #let us just take the essence of meaning and leave the numbers to the druids shall we?#''do you have quintessence related headcanons?'' me: writing ANOTHER meta post and chuckling to myself ''oh boy //do I//''#anyway anon I hope this sated your curiosity #Ao3 Little Blade #sa screams back #galra history & culture #altean history & culture #oh and 100k lightyears might seem like a lot considering that is about the width of the milkyway-#-but the galra have an intergalactic empire so in the grand scheme of things it's really not #besides they don't want to be refueling their ships every other solar system do they that would be horribly inefficient

39 notes · View notes

teklarn · 3 years

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽.4)

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

a/n: y’all it makes me so happy how many people like my work oh my gosh i’m so motivated when enthusiasm shows tytyty <33

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, cussing, aged-up to third years, love triangle, romantic tension, one-sided pining, jealousy, toxic kirishima (ok but like he’s hot tho), slowburn romance, not proofread

word count: 2423

- - -

part 3 , part 5

you twiddled your thumbs in front of the poster. a halloween party? next month? it’d come as a surprise how fast the holiday was coming up.

your stomach filled with butterflies, however, it sunk when you remembered what had happened last night.

the little fight you had with kirishima. how it seemed like he suddenly hated bakugou, who was one of his best friends. you didn’t want to believe that kirishima could have had feelings for you. perhaps he was just protecting you.

you sighed. you truly didn’t want to fight with either of them. maybe kirishima was right. he did know bakugou better than you, but to your knowledge, bakugou had never had a relationship.

maybe kirishima was trying to say that bakugou would be toxic in the sense that he would never pay attention to you. perhaps he would be too focused on becoming the number one hero.

whatever. it didn’t matter now.

the poster listed that it was going to be a costume party, and dressing up was mandatory. you were good friends with mei hatsume from the support group, so she would be going all-out for the season. you wondered if she’d be able to whip something up for you, too.

you had a few minutes left before class started, surely she should be available for a little bit of chatter. besides, mei hatsume never turned down a new project.

turning, you started your way to the support classrooms just to be stopped, come face-to-face with the one person you’d been trying to avoid all day. “i don’t want to talk right now, kirishima,” you snapped. perhaps you were being a bit harsh, but he was the one trying to control you, was he not?

“then don’t talk, y/n. i’ll talk.”

you shoved past him, clutching your books to your chest. “no.”

“just hear me out, okay? last night was...i didn’t mean to seem-”

“seem what? possessive? rude? like an overprotective, jealous boyfriend?”

“in no way was i trying to come across as any of those, trust me y/n.”

you continued on your way to the support classes only to find him standing before you again. You sighed, tightening your grip around your books. “what.” you commanded him, you didn’t ask.

kirishima let out a sigh of his own, letting his arms fall to his sides. “can we just...talk? we’re friends, and we’ve always communicated well with each other.”

“communication was out of the question yesterday, wasn’t it?” you attempted shoving him away to continue on your way, but he caught your shoulder, finger pads digging into your skin possessively.

“please, y/n.”

you looked down your nose at him. “fine. say what you so badly want to get out.”

“listen, i-”

the bell rang, and students went rushing back into their classrooms. you shrugged, victorious. “looks like the bell isn’t on your side either, kirishima.”

you heard him sigh in defeat, but did not look back.

---

there was something about the way kirishima was suddenly looking at you that bakugou didn’t like. at all. his pencil snapped in his grip, chips of wood and led flying into the air.

speaking of kirishima, what was up with him lately? everything was suddenly about you. he was always around you. sure, throughout the years, you two had gotten closer, but kirishima looked just about ready to abandon bakugou’s ass on the side of the road.

as usual, aizawa would be a bit late. in about ten minutes, the man would come wandering in, bags hanging low under his eyes, and instruct the lesson before falling back into his much-needed slumber.

that was when bakugou would interrogate kirishima. but first, he needed to talk to you. needed to be sure he was on the winning side before anything happened between kirishima.

bakugou walked over to your desk, tugging at your sleeve to get your attention.

“hm?” you looked up from your notebook. “yes, bakugou? do you need something?”

“yeah,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. “you saw the poster too, right? the one about that stupid dance.”

“well, i don’t think it’s stupid. it looks fun! don’t you think?”

he drowned himself in your eyes. “mhm.”

“so, did you still need something?”

“got any costume ideas in mind?”

you feigned surprise. “katsuki bakugou? are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

he licked his lips. gosh, the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded the way honey tasted. “don’t push it.” he grinned. “still considering it.”

“well, if you’re thinking of going, you definitely should. i’m buying tickets with mina and kaminari if you’d like to tag along.”

“tag along?” he let out a breathy chuckle. “i’ll be the star of the show if i ‘tag along’, you got me?”

you gave him a side smile. “mhm. but you do realize how hectic it’s gonna be there, right? i mean, you’ve got to pick something that...pops, y’know?” your fingers sprung out to add emphasis.

“whether i wear some stupid costume or not, i’m still going to be the star of the show. you got that?”

you knew he was only teasing. if it’d been the bakugou from before, he would have most likely meant it, however, you knew how he openly teased you now. strangely, it was only you who he was so open with.

bakugou smirked, leaning down to raise your chin with his fingers. “i’ll go if you go.”

he had your heart pacing rapidly. “mhm.”

“use your words.”

“yes, i think i’ll go.”

“you think?” he taunted.

“i will go.” you cleared your throat. “bakugou.”

“good.” his gentle fingers let go of your chin and he wandered back to his desk, eyeing you from there for a moment before flicking open a textbook and reading.

you diverted your eyes back to your notebook, hands shaking as you wrote down the date. you scribbled down your name three times in the top right corner just to look busy.

adjusting your elbow, you did your best to make it look like you were merely leaning your cheek on your hand in a bored manner. gosh. you could still feel his eyes burning into you, demanding. serious. gorgeous and blood red.

kirishima was right about you having feelings for bakugou. however you sat there conflicted for a little while.

bakugou had just approached you in a similar manner as kirishima. did kirishima..?

no, you two were only friends.

you shook your head, still doing your best to conceal the stupid grin crossing your cheeks.

everyone knew that telling other people if you were just friends with someone after they asked, one person had feelings for the other at least. it was another thing asking yourself that.

- - -

it was just a week before the dance, and you still had yet to choose a costume. mina and kaminari had offered you a few of the costumes she’d worn at previous halloween parties, but none had appealed to you.

you wanted something fresh. wanted something that you’d feel like you would have fun in.

“wouldn’t dressing up as a pirate be really, i don’t know. i just feel like it’d be super super hot in the gym.”

mina rolled her eyes. “well duh, you look hot in everything, y/n.”

you scoffed. “thanks, but i’m not sure about that.”

“kirishima seems to think so,” kaminari teased from inside the change room. all three of you were currently at a thrift store trying to find matching costumes.

you rolled your eyes, disregarding the fact he couldn’t see. “don’t bring him up. please.”

“what happened between you two?” mina asked, slipping the costume back onto its hanger. she slipped it back into its spot on the rack and began sifting through new clothes. “you guys just suddenly stopped talking.”

you shrugged. “he’s just been...off lately. you know? i don’t know how else to explain it. but ever since that incident where he broke bakugou’s nose-”

kaminari peaked out from the curtain, jaw dropping. “he broke bakugou’s nose?”

you waved him off. “yes, now let me finish. kirishima did this thing where he just...he acted all protective in private and then tried to apologize for it the next day. he kept telling me stuff like bakugou wasn’t good for me and everything.”

mina blinked, jaw dropping to the floor. “honey, what?”

she and kaminari exchanged shocked glances before she popped a hip out and put her fist to it.

“bestie, honey. you really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

you let out an exasperated breath. “he told me that, too! he pinned me to the wall and was like, oh, you’re so oblivious.” you imitated his voice, puffing out your chest to mock his stockiness.

“baby, baby! do you hear yourself?” mina shook you, taking you by your shoulders. “what the heck? are you blind? he’s down bad for you!”

“bad? if he had feelings for anyone, not just me, i think kirishima would be a little more considerate.”

“but it’s bakugou,” kaminari chirped in. “he knows he won’t win if he doesn’t get you now.”

“please, bakugou doesn’t win at everything.”

mina raised an eyebrow. “but you already have feelings for bakugou, so technically he’s already winning.”

you pursed your lips. “i guess, but if kirishima really had romantic feelings for me, he’d be less of an ass about it.”

“is he going to the dance?” kaminari closed the curtain, rustling around to change back into his clothes once more.

“i’m pretty sure.” you began sifting through clothes with mina. “bakugou said he’d go if i went. so i’m guessing kirishima is going to be there, too. bakugou and he are never apart.”

mina slapped her thigh in disbelief. “do you hear yourself, babes?” she wore a stupid grin. “i haven’t seen those two together since...i don’t know, not for the past month. they’re fighting over you, whether you realize it, whether they realize it.”

kaminari let out a false moan. “oh to have those two fighting over me.” he came out of the change room dressed in his own clothes.

“did the costume not fit?” mina asked.

“my fat ass is too fat for it. i’m too hot to be a pirate.” he posed, mimicking aoyama.

“your ass is flatter than a pancake, kaminari.”

you chuckled, but couldn’t help thinking about what mina was saying. as your two friends began chatting away, you lost yourself in your thoughts.

the three of you sat down for dinner at a cheap restaurant. mina and kaminari had bought a matching costume set, and you were still left without one. the two had left for the bathroom, leaving you sipping your own drink alone.

your chest sank into your stomach when a familiar head full of red, the roots beginning to darken, stepped into the restaurant. he ordered what you’d guessed.

he waited for the meal to be prepared for take out, rocking back and forth on his heels and whistling softly.

thankfully, you felt someone rest a hand on your shoulder. you turned, expecting to see kaminari or mina attempting to save you. instead, you found a strange man. he looked to be around your age. you vaguely recognized his face. perhaps you’d seen him around yuuei before.

uncomfortable, you shoved his hand off. “please go away.”

kirishima blinked slowly when his eyes found you. you did not attempt to hide your annoyance.

you wanted to tell both of them to go away as the man started flirting with you. it should be expected. this wasn’t the best place to be hanging out, either.

you heard footsteps rushing up, and soon, a hand clamped around your wrist. you cried out as kirishima pulled you out of your seat.

“do you have an issue?” he demanded, eyes boring into the man’s.

the man licked his lips. “you seem like you have an issue, here.” his words slurred grossly. “we were over here minding our own business.”

“they don’t want it.” kirishima snapped.

“kirishima, i can handle this myself. you tried to shove off his grip. he let go, knowing that this wasn’t truly how he wanted to approach you.

“see?” the man said. “they’re fine.”

“get out of here.”

“kirishima, what’re you-”

the man put his hands up in surrender and wandered out.

you pushed kirishima back. “what the hell?”

“fine. be mad at me, but he was invading your space.”

your brow furrowed. “you’re one to talk! do i need to put some kind of restraining order on you? you keep following me everywhere.”

“not anywhere! this was a coincidence.”

you shook your head. “it’s pointless trying to argue with you. you’re so toxic!”

kirishima tongued the inside of his cheek. “think what you want, y/n. i could see you were uncomfortable, anyway.”

“no, kirishima. i don’t need your saving. i don’t need you to swoop in and pretend like you’re my hero. you’re not. don’t talk to me again unless you’ve grown the hell up.”

as if on queue, the bell rang and kirishima’s packaged dinner was presented in a paper bag. he gave you a good, long hard stare before taking his dinner and leaving.

your chest heaved with anger. you wanted to make him angry. if he felt romantic feelings towards you, you wanted to make him jealous.

you gave mina and kaminari a text that you’d be going home early. it was only a half-lie. you ran to hatsume’s dorm and knocked loudly. she opened the door without hesitation and grinned widely at the sight of you, already knowing you needed something.

kirishima was obviously so damn jealous of bakugou, wasn’t he? mina was right. he wouldn’t be able to compete. and you were going to make sure he knew that.

the blaring lights, the music louder than bakugou’s explosions. students disguised as their favorite characters.

it was hectic, you were right about that.

kirishima stood beside him. they’d both decided to dress in their hero costumes. the tension between them was still unspoken. they felt like strangers.

their eyes scanned the crowd, and bakugou’s landed on you first, kirishima following closely after.

he couldn’t help the warm, victorious feeling in his chest as he glanced to the side at kirishima’s expression.

kirishima’s chest caved in. you’d dressed in...who had made it?

“they’re dressed as...you,” he said, aghast.

bakugou grinned, watching you dance under the lights in your own rendition of his hero costume, that orange x crossing your chest oh-so-nicely.

- - -

tags: (if you want to be tagged in future parts, let me know!!)

@heizenka @misssugarless

116 notes · View notes