#i genuinely has no patience left in me anymore for this type of things

[icharchivist]

Your reblog reminded me of the time years ago (2018? 2019?) when I saw someone on twitter say that lancelot/vane was queerbait and I just stared at my screen like that tails meme because I couldn't believe what I was reading

Oh my goddddd

i'm so tired i swear i'm so tired of those things oh my god. oh my gooooood.

I've seen legit Queerbaitings, like, the ones that are from Markettings to the audience fooling us into watching straight shit. It's its own very nasty thing that is different from ship tease and i wish people would understand that.

I especially hate when this framing is attributed to mobage of the type of granblue because it's usually down to the DNA of the game that they're doing that. They usually can't exactly confirm stuff (unless they have to make a big story around it) because they use it also to "tease" self insert shipping with those characters.

They're trying to appeal to demographic that cares about shipping other characters together AND those who ship themselves with the characters in question.

As such i find it especially to be a bad faith critic to call it queerbaiting. Whenever you find this approach tasteful or not, it's mostly a brand of fanservice, but you're expected to know it when you interreact with it.

Queerbaiting is the cast and crew and marketting looking at you directly telling you "don't worry we'll totally give you rep those two chara especially are totally going to be rep for you" and then it never happens. like i'm thinking about the trailer for Riverdale that showed a lesbian kiss without context, so you would be intrigued, and then you watch the episode and you learn they only kissed to try to shock the audience in a staged show, and the person they did it in front of literally calls them out about how "girls kissing isn't as shocking anymore you know". and then the two girls involved in the kiss move on to flirt with guys they end up dating the rest of the show instead. Like. That's textbook Queerbaiting. It doesn't matter that this show has rep, it doesn't matter if ship are teased left and right, it doesn't even matter that they kissed for shock in the episode itself, what matters is that the promo was saying "hey, there's rep for you <3" and then you watch and you realize it's a lie.

There's a subtle line sometimes with just, implied romantic connection toward the show that is then never resolved, which imo, can count or can not count, depends really on context, but even there it gets more blurry (and it also is good to take into account that queerbaiting =/= queercoding from a place where they're not allowed by the studios to go this direction).

but for Mobage i'm really uninterested with any discussion of queerbaiting since imo it feels like people are genuinely refusing to engage with the fact the game is requesting you to interreact differently with its characters than you would watching a TV show. Not all media consumtions come to the same effort.

But also i should mention that the context of the post i reblogged is that people are now using "queerbaiting" to refer to real life people and that's genuinely horrifying, above any fandom petty discussion on it.

This post refers to the fact that the lead actor of Heartstopper, a TV show focusing a gay couple between two teens, was forcefully outed on twitter after people harrassed him for "queerbaiting" everyone by "pretending to be gay on TV while he's likely straight irl" and therefore he's.... baiting people by acting??? somehow???

Even if he was straight this attitude would be unacceptable, but what resulted was that this 19yo was so exhausted by the harassments and bullying he had to come out on twitter.

No real people owe you a coming out. No real people are queerbaiting you. Queerbaiting is a specific media framework you cannot use on people. Real life people don't gain anything by pretending to be queer. People involved in this harassments campaign better be ashamed of their behavior because this is vile.

And in general i'm really annoyed with how specific media analysis/critic framework are being used as means to specifically interreact with real life people while removed from the media analysis context. People are doing the same with Death of the Author which is annoying me to no end but that's another can of worm.

But the Queerbaiting thing is genuinely hurting people and i'm genuinely so angry at those people.

so, yeah, i say it again: i am begging people to learn what words mean. You're just diluting what useful expression mean and make them lose their impact and it is becoming exhausting.

[anonymousad]

After reading through your apology, I genuinely think your heart is in the right place. I can imagine, from a consumer standpoint, that seeing these large production budgets essentially being made the audiences' problem is frustrating. But I'd like to at least explain why crowdfunds are the way they are, as someone on "the inside".

I get that your stance is "Capitalism is bad", but that doesn't mean we can ignore it outright. You said on you Shelterwood post "a "fair wage" is a capitalist idea that most don't benefit from", but does that mean people shouldn't be paid at all? Frankly, I disagree.

People deserve to be paid for their labor. Again, it's not fair that the budget has now become the audience's burden, but it's also not fair to say that the concept of a fair wage is bad, full stop. Especially for older content creators, we can't justify time for passion projects on shoestring budgets anymore. We can say capitalism is bad all we want, but while we're living in it, all your favorite content creators still have to play the game.

The money has to come from somewhere. Often, we crowdfund because the usual avenues of making money in podcasting isn't available to us. For what it's worth, how that's solved is a discussion many creators are having now. (This is why you'll likely see an increase in ads across the board, and I hope you have patience for shows that run ads when they happen.)

As I said, I think your heart is in the right place. And yes, there's a discussion that needs to happen regarding crowdfunding and what's realistic to expect from audiences. But I do want to make it clear that us creators aren't pulling these big numbers to swindle anyone out of their money. We just want to keep telling stories, and while we live in capitalism, we are need money to do it.

I don't know if this ask is from the same person, but either way thank you for hearing me out and giving me the benefit of the doubt in terms of my sincerity.

so I think that something that is happening here (which is something that I experience in my real life as a left-leaning person when I try to have these conversations with certain types of people) is that we are getting caught up in whether it's feasible to live within a capitalist system without being agents of it.

we are all victims to it AND victimizers. especially if you live in a "wealthy" nation (by the standards of GDP, not by the standards of how individual citizens are faring). if you shop at a chain grocery store, use Amazon, buy fast fashion, etc etc. a lot of things that are unavoidable to make it by, because doing otherwise is very expensive.

the point being, yes, we all have to survive under capitalism.

but I think where the viewpoint stated by this anon and my own differ is that we are trying to get that money to survive from different places. every content creator across all mediums (YouTubers, musicians, TikTokers, podcasters, etc.) has to figure out how to make it something that they can afford to do. things are not created out of nothing, they take time and effort and talent and MONEY.

where you are getting that money from and how you are distributing it is also really important though.

I am not against the concept of "fair wages", but the idea of this is something that exists in the realm of business. and if you are going to treat a production like a BUSINESS, then you need to actually think about what that means. a business needs to be able to support itself financially through the product it makes or service it provides. the problem is that within the context of audio drama that does not really exist as a path, it only works AFTER you have put in the un/underpaid labor to build a base of supporters.

obviously we don't really charge people to get to listen to podcasts, that doesn't work in our space unless you already have a massive base of support willing to trust blindly that it will be worth it. we kind of get around that through Patreon and Ko-fi by creators providing exclusive content, something much more akin to how a business operates. there are also now the "+" style subscriptions that some networks and apps like Apollo have started, but to me those are very similar in that they are basically aggregating the same content that people are posting to their Patreons in an attempt to be a more enticing proposition than supporting a single creator.

your podcast CAN'T be treated like a business until there is a sustainable way to support it like one, and crowdfunding just isn't going to be that.

we still need to think about what can be sustainable for the community, a point I made that you didn't really acknowledge here. crowdfunding cannot be a sustainable method in these high amounts, it is literally impossible. with campaigns this size every month, sometimes multiple at once, where is that money supposed to come from sustainably? especially in the context I've been pointing out about how people are struggling right now, something you can't ignore when the contributors to these kinds of campaigns are average people.

at that point what you are actually looking for is an investor, a very common business practice for a start-up. which is what these campaigns are basically attempting to be, so it is a logical method of getting the funds. especially when what is apparently needed is this high.

so, we need to be looking at who does have the money and would be willing to contribute to the types of things we make; groups that have the resources and connections needed to help these kinds of larger scale projects succeed.

and wouldn't you know it, there's a very obvious solution to this one problem: podcast networks.

podcast networks are a middleman in the space, seemingly collecting money with the only benefit being minimal promotion and advertising help, and of course slapping a recognizable name on there that maybe attracts a few more listeners because it has "network backing". what services are they providing with that money they are taking? it should be argued that if you are essentially paying part of your revenue to a network that they are using it substantially to help support your endeavors. I have not seen this level of support from any of them.

the closest we've gotten to this is when the Apollo app gave $10,000 to some creators last year to make something completely original and unique (for example, Ester Ellis, creator of Station Blue and The Goblet Wire, was able to create something completely unique and out of the box with Whale Song). to be honest, that obvious ploy to get into the community's good graces is more than any of the actual networks have done. it doesn't really matter that it was a calculated business decision that would benefit them, it also benefited US as creators.

making deals with a network or outside funder is ACTUALLY "playing the game" of capitalism, getting it from individuals as part of an unsustainable crowdfunding campaign is not.

and again, it really matters that these resources are being EQUITABLY spread, but that is another conversation to be had if/when these things start existing for people to take advantage of.

additionally, it is worth pointing out that there are cities/states/countries that offer artistic grants. if your project needs major funding it is part of your due diligence to look into these things as potentially avenues. ignoring these opportunities is honestly negligent and disrespectful to fans who want to see the show get made by putting the entire burden of the cost on them.

you also mentioned advertisements, something that is an annoying but everyday part of our consumer society. for a lot of content creators I know it is the ONLY way to make money (note: I include sponsorship deals within the banner of advertising personally) and I do not begrudge them that because it's just how this shit works. yeah we all dislike getting interrupted by an ad, even between distinct episodes, but I don't think anyone should get upset at that stuff unless it's truly egregious (something like 3 minutes of ads for 5 minutes of actual content is just being shitty about the value of people's time).

this is actually an example of the right type of revenue stream to be chasing. residuals and passive income are important parts of making a business sustainable, especially a content creation business where the "product" is freely available. that is literally what ads were made for, it's how network TV makes money too. no, I don't think that this alone can sustain the costs of a production team, but I do think that it's things like this that need to be where the thought and energy goes when looking for ways to supplement it. hence the popularity of monthly support options, merch, sponsorships, etc.

I would also like to point out I am also an audio drama creator, I've been very open about that. whenever I get an idea for a new project or even just making my current ones happen I am also having to ask and deal with these questions of money. and I readily admit it isn't easy, money and compensation for non-tangible services and goods is not straightforward.

but that's why I make it a priority to work within my bounds while I figure it out. my first endeavor did not include asking for more money than some people make in a year, it was me investing in a microphone and asking people if they were interested in taking part even though it wasn't paid. I figured out how to make it work by using Freesound and Audacity and spending hours googling when I desperately needed one super specific thing. I recognized that 1) it was not something I could afford to spend money at the time, 2) I had not proven myself to the community such that I would feel right asking for money without any indication of the quality of product they would be receiving, and 3) that creative budgeting was always going to have to be part of how I did this.

I know the term "creative budgeting" may not be familiar to all kinds of people, but it is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. it's something that people have to do every day to pay their bills and buy groceries and keep their businesses afloat.

asking others to pay me a business-adjacent "fair wage" for an unprovable possible product is not being responsible with funds. there are a lot of resources available that can help ease costs and get rid of the less necessary expenses, and that is part of successfully allocating funds for any kind of project.

one last thing I want to address on here:

you talk about older people not having the benefit of passion projects. while I can empathize with what you are saying, this is kind of an ageist and ableist take and I want to address it so that you can have a better understanding of why it's problematic.

first of all, I think it's fair to say that everyone is financially struggling right now. it is a privilege to even have the time and energy to create instead of having to spend every ounce of yourself just surviving, one I recognize that I personally have.

we're at a stage where identifying as an "older content creator" might just mean "Millennial", and yeah that generation has suffered a lot financially due to Gen X and Boomers. but so has everyone born after them, it is no longer a uniquely Millennial problem to have money trouble. I know plenty of people in this age group who are tight financially, but not so tight that they are actively in danger. and I know people in that group who are barely scraping together enough to eat and keep a roof over their head.

I can say the exact same thing about Gen Z. if anything, Millennials have the benefit of the hardest times hitting AFTER getting degrees and those vital first jobs that create the lucrative "job experience" that every application after will be looking for. it's nearly impossible for some younger people to land "entry level" these days.

I'm really discussing a larger issue here, but by bringing up the difference in age as a contributing factor, it somewhat feels like you are saying that you are more worthy of those types of contributions and investments because of age. which is the kind of language we all grew up hearing from our parents and from policymakers and eventually from our bosses. it's an unhelpful stance to take when all of us are more or less in the same shitty situation.

the longer I've lived the more clear it's become that these generational divides from Millennial downward have been very intentionally placed to try and make us alienated from one another. I am somewhere in that vast swathe and that's how I identify; as part of the generations who were screwed. it doesn't matter which one, when you were born at this point only has an impact on how long you've already suffered, not how long you are going to.

which is fucking bleak, yeah. but an important reminder that solidarity is important in all things, especially when it comes to the arts and expression.

your age doesn't give you more of a right to be exploitative. that is not an accusation towards anyone, it's more of a general statement about the ways in which we let a lot of the older generations who have power get away with abusing everyone beneath them.

to much more briefly touch on why it is an ableist statement, I'm just going to point out that there are lot of factors that can impact someone's life regardless of age and make things more difficult for them. I know there is a lot of neurodivergence in the community, which can be disabling for some. I also know that there are some physically disabled creators who have talked about difficulties and barriers that people twice their age haven't had to deal with. it's something that I understand can be easy to forget if you aren't faced with it every day, I do not blame people for that. but that's why I think it is important to point out here so that eventually it will be something that everyone considers.

lastly, a couple of small notes that didn't fit in anywhere above, but I wanted to include

it is worth pointing out here that it is a privilege to be able to pay someone at all, one that a lot of projects don't have the luxury of. I don't think that's right, but it is a reality of making art.

"swindling" may be a harsh word for what I think is happening with these campaigns. I certainly think it is inequitably pulling resources towards individuals, but I don't believe that people are literally getting scammed

that's all I've got on this one, thanks for sticking with me and I HOPE we can spur some more conversations from this. namely, if you are part of a network you should ask them what they do to provide support for the community. make them sweat a little bit, it might benefit us all.

[natsukitakama]

What kind of Yandere Floch is ?

Could I please get Yandere Floch since I’m really curious what type of yandere would he be but with a fem s/o who isn’t member of yeagarits and she’s with Hange and others instead, wanted to stop Eren. She’s also afraid of Floch since she can sense something odd about him

Hey I’m that anon who request yandere Floch with a reader who isn’t a yeagarist, well just so you know they’re not dating but perhaps they are friends and the reader is type of person who’s not ready to be in relationship even if she has a crush and Floch is aware of that. you could reply this ask at the same day when you post this request

Hey it’s me again, the same anon who request yandere Floch, there’s something I want to add more is that the reader figure it out that eren was using and manipulate Floch and the reader was telling Floch that he’s being used so really curious what would he tell her. Once again reply this ask until this request is posted which I know you’ll take long but I’m fine with it since I’m patience

Author note : Hi there, first of all thank you for being so patient with me ! I hope you’ll enjoy your request. It’s like a HS of my what kind of Yandere are they with two part : part 1 and part 2, the only difference is this headcanon got context

Before we started, let me reminds you those relationships are TOXIC please be careful. No one should treat you the way they did in this headcanon, you’re precious and deserve someone who’ll be able to take care of you properly.

Warning : violence / Mention of stress / Toxic relationship and behavior / slight nsfw / mention of violence / Spoiler from season 4/manga if you didn't catch up with the manga you might be spoil so be careful

-->if you don’t feel confortable wit those kinds of things don’t read, I want you to feel good on my blog this is a happy place.

Masterlist

We’re going to start with the basic, during a long time you guys got a hate/love relationship

None of you knew if you hate each other or if you were too into each other, like you were always teasing each other, always trying to get on the other’s nerve.

It was kinda cute until it became an obsession for Floch.

He didn’t notice it though. Not at first, he thought that he was genuinely crushing on you. I mean you were pretty hot, you got a big mouth not afraid to tell whatever you had in mind, you were even bold enough to argue with Floch with that damn smirk of yours.

Before he could acknowledge it he was already in his kneel for you (not literally not now though).

But to you, you were just friends. With your life and what was going own outside of the wall you knew it wasn’t the right time to get in a relationship, so even though you were in love with Floch you decided that it wasn’t appropriate to start dating.

But Floch disagreed with you. It was already too late, he was into you. He wanted to be by your side, he was craving for your attention whether it would be by arguing with him, fighting (not in a bad way you know just teasing each other) or even romantic attention.

He wanted to get everything that you might give him.

And he was ready to do everything in order to get what he was craving for.

At first you didn’t mind it, you didn’t even notice how bad the situation was. I mean, you were in love with him and as you got to know him you realized that he went through a lot of things. You were aware that the Shinganshima’s event left a huge mark on his soul and now he was dealing with a trauma that might stay forever.

It pained you to see him sometimes struggling with his dream because he was always dreaming about the death of his friends, the way he almost dies and for nothing. Yeah they got Shinganshima back but now they needed to be strong in order to fight the whole word outside the wall.

He needed to be strong so he wouldn’t live this again, he needed to be strong so no one would be able to touch you. He knew at this point he became addict to you and you were the only who can maintain a sort of serenity around him.

So yeah when it came to Floch you weren’t exactly unbiased, you cared a lot about him, so you couldn’t manage to just straight up and tell him to let go.

And he knows it oh boy he knows and he is not afraid to use it against you.

Especially when it was time to choose your side, would you be a yeagerist or would you stay with Hange ?

He expects you to make the right choice ( aka follows him in case you were wonderin)

But it was more complicated than that, of course you were afraid. Since you’ve realized that your nightmare started because some people outside of the wall (who used to be your boundaries) decided that you were monster who needed to be killed because some of your ancestor made war against them. You weren’t a fool, you were aware that talking won’t be enough, it’s been decades since the outside hated you, but you weren’t ready to use such a powerful and dangerous power (aka the rumbling) against people without being a hundred percent sure there weren’t a way out.

So for now you decided to follow Hange much to Floch’s dismay

Not gonna lie he was ready, I mean he knew everything about you so of course he kinda expected you to not follow him easily (where’s the fun then ?)

Even if he expected you to confront him and not follow him already, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I mean why you wouldn’t follow him while all he was doing was fighting for a better word for both of you ? Why wouldn’t you agree with him when he was protecting his people ? Why would you disagree when he was obviously right

So yeah he felt bitterness against you, especially because since you’ve decided to join Hange’s side all you were doing was to confront him about his relationship with Eren. « He is obviously manipulating you ? » « Why are you following him ? I thought he was an ass ? » « We didn’t even try to talk to them how could you be so sure there is no other way ? »

Quickly you came to realize that you couldn’t change his mind which pains you, even though you weren’t ready to be in a relationship for now, you couldn’t help the feeling of emptiness each time you were thinking about him.

Yeah you were missing him, you missed the way you two used to tease each other, you missed his cocky smile each time he was showing off to own some of your precious praise.

But sometimes you swore this man was scaring you, the way his eyes was always on you no matter what (he could have been talking to some of his companion his eyes would remain on you)

Sometimes, you swore that he was following you even though you didn’t have any proof that he was doing it, you just felt it. He was here no matter where you were he was here looking at you from your usual spot to your training spot, you were even starting to think that he was here when you were showering or when you were sleeping.

This sensation was driving you crazy, everyone started to believe that you were a little bit paranoid (yes the man was always looking at you but he told you he was in love so it’s normal right ?)

The feeling became stronger after one of your last confrontation because his behavior (and himself) change brutally :

When you decided to follow Henge-San no matter what, you knew that it would affect your relationship with everyone especially the one you got with Floch. After all he decided to become a yeagarist and to betray everyone in order insure paradis’ safety. In his mind everything made sense, his trauma, all the things he had to go through was because of them, because some people behind the wall decided that paradis was the real danger and needed to be annihilated. What he couldn’t understand was why you hadn’t join him yet ? His goal was noble, he was doing everything to provide you safety. Why were you against him ? Why would you meddle into his plan ? At first, he thought you were playing hard just to amuse him, because you used to love teasing him and while he was enjoying a little opposition coming from you, now that he was about to betray everyone including his superior by changing them into titans he needed to have you by his side. He couldn’t wait anymore, the plan already begun so he needed to convince you to follow him.

That’s why you were here now, in jail behind the bar while Floch was looking at you a frown on his face. No, it was more than that, it was the face you made when you were about to scold your child from acting like a brat. He looked disappointed and quite angry, though you got some ideas why he might be angry you couldn’t however understand why he was so disappointed. After all, you told him that his plan was insane so why was he acting like this ? To be honest you should be the one being angry, he got the nerve to send some rookie from the survey corps find you to arrest you so they could bring you to your jail. You’ve been here since your last argument with Floch and it was like a week ago.

« You know I always knew you were a bad looser but I didn’t expect you to bring me into jail for not being cooperative. Don’t you think it’s a little bit excessive ? Like a LOT »

« Always sassy right Y/N »

« It’s not sassiness at this point it’s just being rational »

« Rational ? You are talking about being rational while being the one who claimed that my plan was full of shit ? »

« I didn’t really say that I just underlined the fact that we still got some cards to play before sending whatever Eren want to send »

« The rambling »

« Yeah whatever that’s not the point »

« It’s definitely the point »

« Absolutely not there is plenty of things to do before even consider sending them titans to kill a whole population »

« A WHOLE POPULATION ? Did you hear yourself y/n ? THEY kill us, THEY were the reason we don’t have a home anymore THEY are the reason so many people died and for what uh ? »

« Not because their government want us dead does it mean the people want our death most of them are probably innocent. There are other way Floch »

« There is no other way y/n the world has to be fix »

« Fix ? Now you are scarring me Floch »

« It doesn’t matter what you think y/n »

« May I ask you why ? »

« Because you’re not leaving this jail »

« I beg your pardon ? »

« Look, here you’re safe from both them and the yeagarist »

« I’m not afraid I’ll kick their ass »

« I won’t take the risk of losing you, so you’re going to stay here all you cute for me yeah ? I Wont be too long I need to work on a little problem then I would be back and you could yell at me as much as you want ok ? I’ll be back »

« No no no Floch look come back OI come back ! I’m not going to stay here you now I’ll find a way out »

« No you won’t nobodies know you’re here I told the yeagarist that you were dead. They won’t look for you, your friends believe you’re dead too. I’m the only person who knows where you are. But it’s okay, it was always about us right ? »

With that he just left your jail, without even a look, all he could was your scream but he didn’t care. The jail was hiding under the military court no one would even think about looking for you here. Besides the wall was thick enough so no one would hear you screaming, for now he decided that you will remain here until he was done saving paradis. But of course, he promised himself to take great care of you so don’t worry.

After this « incident » (aka his way to save you from the trouble outside according to him), his behavior change toward you. You noticed it, he became possessive and rather paranoid when it came to you.

So you might ask what kind of Yandere he is ?

Possessive : I mean he was already possessive before he became the Yandere that he now is, he just lost so many people that now he was afraid that you would be next. So yeah he always makes sure to have his hand on some part to your body mostly your hips or even better holding your hand, since you were attracted to him you let him do his things. But as he falls gradually into darkness, his touch which used to be light touch became more rough. Floch wasn’t holding you anymore he was grabbing you, as if to demonstrate to everyone that he owns you. It wasn’t a mark of affection, but a way for him to illustrate your affiliation to him (as if you were wearing a leash). Speaking of leash, he started to think about it when he notices way too many people was looking at you as if they didn’t understand that you belong to him. And when you two started to be intimate, he was more than ready to mark each inch of your body whether from his teeth, mouth or even from the way he is grabbing at your thigh. It quickly became a habit of him to ask who you belong to especially each time he was giving a rather hard slap from his hips or his hands (because if you think he wouldn’t spank you for being naughty or a brat you’re wrong he loves that) and even though at first you didn’t like the idea of moaning your belonging you quickly discover that it was better for you to just do as he said.

Paranoid : It might because of his trauma from the mission in Shinganshima or because he was more aware about the fact that everyone outside the wall want to erase paradis from the world but he was afraid to loose you. I mean since he joined the survey corps all he has do was losing someone, he lost Erwin, he lost his friends, he lost a part of his mind, he almost lost his life. There is no way he was about to lose you. So yeah as you may notice before, he started by locking you from the world in a jail under the military court after claiming to everyone who wanted to hear it that you were dead. One night he woke up after dreaming that one of the yeagarist would discover you in jail after bringing another prisoner, what if they unlock you ? So after multiple days in jail, without any light, he decided that he couldn’t let you here it was too dangerous, although he claimed to you that he did because he noticed your unhealthy body cause of the lack of light. But since he wasn’t sure if he could trust you enough, he took some handcuff with him so he could link you and him, which made him laugh cause it was as if he put a ring on you. That day he locked you into a house secluded from the world, meaning that you couldn’t reach any city without a horse, it was safe for him and for you and here he was sure no one would ever notice you.

Threatening : Of course, you wouldn’t let him do as he pleased, so some times you tried to kick his ass to steal his horse, or to climb into a tree to help you finding the closest city. You even tried to make him believe you kill yourself so he went completely crazy, screaming, crying so you could knock him you. Unfortunately it never works, and after your failed attempt to leave him he started to threaten you. At first he uses light poison, like he gave you a poison that he mixed on your meal or your drink without you noticing so you were ill during the whole day and you needed to wait like a good s/o that your lovely husband as he calls himself, so he could give you the medicine. Sometimes he even let you believe that he might give you something that will change you into titan like : Do you remember all your officer ? Yeah ? They all drink that famous spinal liquid that change everyone into titan, what if you drank it by accident mh ? Maybe when he gave you food he already mixes your drink with that poison ? Whether it was true or not no one will know, but it works you never attempt to leave him after that.

Violent : I hate to say it, but at some point when dark would entirely cover his mind, he would start being violent against you. Though he would never be something that could kill you, he wanted you to remember that you were living a peaceful live because of him, you were safe because of him. To him you got no reason of being such a brat to him, not when he was giving you everything you wanted. He took care of you, you had no right to be mad at him. So yeah sometimes he had to break your ankle, or maybe your leg so you won’t escape. Sometimes he would strangle you slightly just enough to knock you out. It barely happens because to act like this he needed to be really really angry, like loosing every common sense you know ? So it barely happens but it happens. Your body still have so marks as proof that you shouldn’t get on Floch’s nerve. Despite his physical violence, he tends to be quite violent with his word too so it wouldn’t be a surprise that you’ll break. The emotional amusement in addition with the physical violence would be enough to break anyone so you shouldn’t be ashamed. After all maybe he has been looking for this since the beginning ? Who knows ?

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part IX. (Harry Styles)

yall are gonna hate me for this but it needed to be done IM SORRY! also, i can’t believe valerie is ending this week, just one more part to go! can’twait to read your reactions and thoughts on this part, even though i know yall gonna be upset lmao

word count: 5.6k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Some days it truly feels like the universe has plotted against you to make every possible thing go wrong. As if it wants to see just how much you can take before breaking, experiment how long it can dance on your nerves before you end up one of those crazy people who shout at random strangers on the bus for no actual reason.

Starting the day you overslept awfully leaving you only ten minutes before you had to leave. In your hurry you ended up putting on socks that do not match and you were forced to buy a sandwich on your way as breakfast, but you promised you wouldn’t buy packed sandwiches for a reason, this one tasted like it’s been sitting on the shelf for weeks. Maybe it really has been. 

You made it to work successfully, but then you realized that you’ve left your notebook at home, the one that had quite a lot of important information you need for your work, so you spent your first hour at work emailing different people for things you should now, explaining that you just left your notebook at home. Some didn’t really give a fuck and just answered you normally, but others didn’t shy away from commenting that you should be more responsible and careful.

This alone gave just the perfect foundation for the day. It was all downhill from then. Your boss loaded twice as much work on you than usually, everything with close deadlines, throwing even more anxiety into the mix as if you didn’t have enough already. 

You met up with Marcus at lunch, but that didn’t go as planned either. It’s been getting more and more frustrating with him, the two of you have already had at least five fights this week and it’s only wednesday. It seems like even the smallest things push you over the edge these days and you easily pick a fight over anything. It didn’t happen differently this time either and by the time you got back to the office you were fuming. Worst part is that you always have a hard time ending a fight and tend to continue it through texts, the same thing happened today as well.

Now it’s a few minutes past five and you’re getting ready to go home, get changed and head to family dinner since today is Valerie’s first birthday, but even on the bus you’re still furiously typing away on your phone, sending a reply to Marcus, wanting nothing more than to throw the device right ot the window.

At one point you decide you’ve had enough. Turning your phone off you sink it into the depth of your bag and just try to focus on breathing, because even the smallest things seem to be hard tasks in such an upsetting state of mind. 

These past few weeks things have taken an absurdly wrong turn between you and Marcus and you don’t know what to do about the whole situation. Every night you go to bed thinking that you should just let go of him, would do a favor for the both of you, but then that stupid little voice in the back of your mind tells you that if you break up with Marcus it’s game over for you, you’ll spend the rest of your life alone. It all ends up with you violently holding onto the pieces of what’s left from your relationship and you’ve been trying to figure out where it went wrong, but you have absolutely no idea. 

After you changed into a pair of light washed jeans, a bright orange sweater and your black leather jacket it’s time for you to leave, though you already know you’ll be late. With a sigh deep you decided to turn your phone back on when you were sitting in the Uber, immediately deleting the notifications about the messages Marcus left you and going straight for the few ones from Rosa, your mom and Harry. They all arrived not too long ago asking when you’d be arriving, so you quickly typed your sorry and told them you’re on your way, you just got caught up at work. For Harry, you add something else too:

“Save me a seat and order me a tequila.”

His response came quickly.

“Done. Both.”

You let out a chuckle seeing his message. He knows you too well.

Walking into the small restaurant you don’t have a hard time spotting your family, three tables have been pushed together to make enough room in the back, taking up the small, kind of separated area of the place. Rosa smiles widely when she spots you, Valerie standing on her thighs, hands on the table as she is trying to snatch one of the glasses away, but her dad is pushing it further from her grasp.

“Sorry for being late,” you huff out and take the seat right next to Harry who watches you with a smile. “Well hello there, birthday girl! You’re so big now!” you babble at Valerie who giggles at you before her attention is averted once again.

You feel Harry’s elbow poking your side and turning to him you see him nod at the two shots on the table.

“Oh, fantastic. You’re drinking too?”

“No, I’m driving. Both for you.”

“If I didn’t have such a shitty day I would question what kind of alcoholic you think I am, but I kinda need both,” you sigh, taking the first one and downing it faster than ever. From the corner of your eyes you see your mother’s disapproving look, but you decide to ignore it for now.

“Wanna talk about it?” Harry asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry, but you shake your head, the alcohol still burning your throat.

“Not now. Can you give me a lift home tho?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning back to the conversation at the table. 

You somehow succeed in putting everything that happened today behind and just focus on the time spent with your family. It helps that seemingly Harry works hard all evening to tell you about random things, just occupying your thoughts as much as he can. It’s nice to relax a little and forget everything that’s been weighing down on your shoulders recently. 

“It’s so crazy she is one already,” you sigh when you and Harry are walking to his car.

“Right? It makes me feel incredibly old,” Harry huffs as he fishes his car keys out of his pocket.

“How old are you even?” you ask laughing, realizing you don’t even know how old he exactly is. There are quite a few things, small details you’ve just never gotten around to find out about Harry.

“I’m turning 27 in February. Wild, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

“Yeah, you’re basically a grandpa,” you tease him and he narrows his eyes at you, but you can’t miss the little smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. 

“That makes you a grandma, because you’re turning 25 in April, don’t you?”

“You know when my birthday is?” It takes you by surprise, you don’t remember ever telling him when your birthday is.

The two of you reach his car and he clears his throat unlocking it. Seems like he doesn’t really want to answer, but your burning gaze on him kind of forces him into it.

“Uh, I do. I wanted to meet up with Steven last year the day you had your birthday party, but he said he had plans already. Tried to lure him into cancelling, but he didn’t even want to share where he was going. Then he admitted that it was your birthday party, but you told him and Rosa not to even mention it to me so I don’t show up.”

Your stomach drops hearing his version of a story you’ve only known from your own point of view. You remember that you indeed told them not to tell Harry about it, but now it seems like such a hate crime, when in real life, it was still when the two of you hated each other with passion. 

“I’m… Harry I’m sorry. That was--”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles at you, starting the car. “We left it all behind, didn’t we?”

His smile seems genuine, but you still feel guilty for being such a bitch. It reminded you how much time and energy the two of you wasted for years hating each other when you could have been just like you are now. If only things happened in a different way…

Arriving at your building Harry parks the car and stops it. As the engine stops, the silence that’s been thickening the air just becomes even more obvious. He is waiting for you to say something about what’s gotten you so upset today, you know that, but you don’t feel like sitting around in his car.

“Want to come up for a little bit?” you ask and it’s a hidden message that you want to talk in the comfort of your own home. Luckily, Harry understands it right away and nodding he tells you to lead the way. 

You make some tea and the two of you sit on your couch, Harry is sitting sideways so he can see you while you bring your knees up to your chest, staring down at the mug in your hands.

“I had a fight with Marcus,” you quietly start.

“Oh.”

“And… it wasn’t the first time. We’ve been constantly fighting lately and I’m just… so tired of it.”

Saying it out loud for the first time, having someone listen to you brings you an odd sense of relief, and it doesn’t feel weird that you’re talking to Harry about all of it. He has proven himself to be a great listener.

“We’ve been fighting constantly, over the smallest things and my… my patience is running short, at this point.”

You’re talking slowly, carefully putting your thoughts into words, trying your best to interpret them for Harry after boiling them only in your own head for so long.

“I just… I have no idea what I should do.”

“It seems like the relationship is not making you happy anymore,” Harry softly speaks up and you have nothing to bring up against what he just said. “So why are you trying to continue it?”

You were expecting the question, you just knew he would ask it, but it still brings a painful, stinging sensation into your chest as you try to find the words to answer him. 

“Because…” you breath out and slowly turning your head, your eyes meet his gaze. “If I can’t make it work with him… then… who is it gonna be? There’s this voice in my head that keeps telling me, that he is literally my last choice, that if I mess this up it’s gonna be over for me.”

“Y/N, you know that’s not true,” Harry tells you tilting his head.

“Do I?” you chuckle bitterly, turning your gaze to the ceiling before you look back at him. “Because I don’t think I do. I’ve been literally feeling so miserable for weeks, yet I still can’t get me to move on, because I think I’m gonna die alone.”

“That’s not gonna happen, don’t say that. You’ll find the right person for you, you just… have to be patient.”

“But that’s the thing. I have lost my patience. I’m done, over it.” The tears form in your eyes in just a few seconds and the next thing you know is that you’re crying. “I’ve been trying so hard in my whole life, but somehow I always ended up… not being enough, or thrown away, stepped over, left behind. No matter what I did, I always ended up alone and I can’t help but notice a pattern in it. It has to be me, what else?”

“It’s not you, okay? You just had a few bad experiences.”

“Not a few,” you huff closing your eyes. “All of them are bad. I was… I was never enough for anyone and now that I found a guy that seemed to be just perfect… I’m ruining it.”

“I don’t think you’re ruining anything.”

“Then explain to me what’s happening, Harry!” you snap in despair and Harry stares back at you at a loss of words at first.

“Do you have feelings for him?” he then asks. You can’t answer right away and it tells him a lot.

“I… I’m not sure.”

“That sounded more like a no.”

“Okay, alright. No, I don’t. But… I could develop feelings eventually, couldn’t I?”

“That’s not how it works, Y/N. You can’t just torture yourself hoping that one day you wake up and you’ll be in love with him. It’s not gonna happen and you’re just wasting your time.”

“How do you know it’s not gonna happen? What makes you so sure of that I will not end up alone?”

Harry stays quiet, her green eyes are staring right into your soul and for a moment you forget about your misery. This man alone holds such a power over you, it’s starting to scare you.

“I know it, because… I know you. And I see you. You’re literally the funniest girl I know, so easy to talk with, you always know when to crack a joke and when you have to be serious. You have so much love for others, you care about your loved ones and you’re always there for your friends and family. You make it so easy for others to get comfortable around you and you make everyone feel safe around you.”

You listen to him intently, drinking up every word that leaves his lips. Harry looks down at his hands as he continues.

“And you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful, it always baffles me when I see you.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“It’s the truth,” Harry chuckles lightly, he brushes his knuckles together nervously. “Every time you walk in, you just… make everyone turn their head at you, and I always wonder if you even notice that. The way you walk, your smile, your laugh, Y/N, you make every man go crazy about you.”

“You’re just saying that because you are trying to cheer me up,” you sniff, wiping a few more tears away from your eyes.

“I’m definitely not,” he chuckles and his eyes finally find yours. “I remember when we first met.”

“When you walked in on me changing,” you sigh, the memories living vividly in your mind.

“Yeah. I remember how… breathless I felt when I saw you standing there, your dress handing a little on your frame because of the zipper. I forgot my name for a moment. I offered to help with the zipper because I just… wanted to touch you in any kind of way. So I knew that you were real.”

“Harry…”

“I know this sounds made up, but I’m telling you, this is the truth. And I know I didn’t act like that for a long time, but I always thought that you were an amazing person and I know that any guy would be so lucky and incredibly happy to be with you. I hate the thought of you thinking otherwise of yourself, when you are literally such a delight and… just a gift to all of us. I don’t know what’s really been going on between you and Marcus, but if he can’t see your worth and can’t make you feel like you deserve… he is not worthy of your time.”

You feel your throat closing up, but you’re not sure Harry knows the reason behind it when the tears start rolling down your cheeks again. 

Because it might look like his words touched you and made you tear up, but in reality, a bittersweet feeling has taken completely over you. If this is how he thinks about you, why did he act like that when he had the chance to be with you? Why didn’t he want you to stay? What did you do that made him want to throw you out?

It’s a spiral straight down and you can’t stop yourself from falling. Harry has always been the biggest mystery of your life, and now you’re just even more sure it was something you did or said that made him want to run. 

He reaches out and easily scoops you into his arms and you let him hold you tight, face buried into his chest. You hold onto his shirt as the silent cries escape your lips. You want him to want you. You want him to mean all those things he just told you, but you just can’t seem to move on from the past even though you’ve agreed to forget about it. It keeps bugging you in the back of your mind that no matter what he says, you weren’t good enough to make him want to stay with you when he had the chance. 

***

It doesn’t get better after that night. Harry stayed until after midnight, made sure you got into bed and told you he’ll check in on you the next day. And so he did. 

You felt guilty for loading all of it on Harry, so you decided it was the last time you ever talked about Marcus or your love life in general with him. You easily made yourself believe that he didn’t really care about it and he just listened to you because he was trying to be nice. It seemed the best to just try and forget about it all. 

For a while you were contemplating breaking up with Marcus, but you didn’t have the strength to do it, telling yourself you have to give it another chance and some more patience. However it’s ending up to be quite draining, you gotta admit, but you are starting to get used to feeling numb every day.

Rosa invites you over, because she went through her closet and found some stuff she thought you’d like, so you head over not long after you get home from work. She mentioned that Harry would be over watching some kind of football game with Steven, so you are not surprised to see his car parking on their driveway.

“Hi guys!” you greet them when Rosa lets you in, the game is already on so they just wave in your way, intently watching the TV.

“Come on, I have everything in the bedroom,” Rosa nods in your way and you follow her upstairs. Valerie greets you with a loud shriek as you walk in, she is sitting in her crib, surrounded with a bunch of toys, seemingly having a great time.

“Hi there, Princess!” you coo at her, caressing her cheek before you sit on the edge of the bed that’s filled with piles of clothes. “What’s the big sorting?” you ask, grabbing a cardigan and taking a look at it.

“I just have way too much stuff, can’t fit new stuff into my wardrobe, so I needed to sort it all out.”

The two of you go through everything and just catch up while you try on what you like. At the end, you are just sitting on the bed playing with Valerie. You can tell there’s something Rosa wants to share, but she seems reserved about saying it out loud.

“So, the other day we were talking with Steven about how crazy it is that Val is over one year old,” she starts, eyes glued to the little girl, handing her another building block as Valerie works on… whatever it’s going to be when it's finished.

“Yeah, that’s what we talked about with Harry after her birthday dinner. Makes us feel old,” you chuckle.

“Exactly,” she sighs chuckling. “So then we talked about, maybe… having another kid sometime soon.”

You perk up and looking at Rosa you see the shy smile on her lips and you gasp, but she shakes her head.

“I’m not pregnant,” she assures you, but then adds: “Not yet.”

“Oh my God, so you’re trying for another baby?” you whisper, even though there’s no chance of the guys hearing the two of you. You can hear the sound of the TV up here, they have no clue what you’re talking about.

“I mean, it can take some time, so we thought we could… start now.”

“That’s fantastic!” you breathe out, truly happy for your sister. You just know Valerie will be such a good big sister. “Val, you want a baby sister or baby brother?” you ask her and she looks at you with a serious expression, holding out one of the blocks.

“Baba!” she exclaims.

“Yes, baba!” you chuckle. She’s been learning kind of real words lately and it won’t take too long before she’ll be bossing around everyone in the house.

When it’s getting late you pack the clothes you choose and head down to leave. The guys are still on the couch, but Harry’s head perks up when he hears your footsteps.

“You want me to give you a ride?”

“Um, I’m fine, don’t want to bother you while the game is on.”

“It’s ending in five. If you can wait a little it’s alright.”

“Okay,” you nod smiling so instead of going to the front door you stop in the kitchen to wait for Harry.

Rosa puts Valerie into her high chair and gets a banana for her while you check your phone just when Marcus calls you. Hesitantly, but you answer it.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi, just wanted to check in if the weekend is still on.”

“Uh, sure. It is.”

“Great. I’ll have to check again with my boss, but I think I’ll be able to pick you up.��

“Great. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, babe.”

The call ends and you find yourself facing a curious looking Rosa on the other side of the kitchen island.

“Marcus?” she asks and you nod. “How are things going?” You’ve only mentioned it to her that it’s been hard between the two of you, but you definitely didn’t go into details. Harry was the first and last person to hear the whole story.

“Um… neutral, I guess?”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I know, but I’m just trying to figure it out. We are spending the weekend together, I hope it’ll help us to get a little more… settled? I guess, I don’t know,” you stammer, nervously fidgeting with your phone in your hands. 

“That’s nice, was it his idea?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s good to know that Marcus is making the right attempts to smooth things out.”

“Attempts?” Harry’s voice makes both of you look in his way as he stands at the door, seemingly confused about what he just heard. “You’re still with Marcus?”

“Harry, I…”

“No, don’t try to explain it. I thought I talked sense into you last time.” He is clearly pissed, not holding back how upset he is to get the news that you are still dating Marcus. But on the other hand you can also feel yourself getting angry how he tries to control your life.

“You did, but I never said I’ll break things off with him.”

“Well, it surely sounded like you made up your mind,” he huffs.

“Well, I didn’t,” you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest.

“What the fuck, Y/N! You can’t keep doing this to yourself!” he snaps gesturing in your way. “I thought we were over this!”

“We? What do you mean we?” you grimace and now you are raising your voice as well. “Harry, there’s no we! This is my relationship and it’s nice that you care, but you can’t tell me what to do!”

Harry is vivid. He needs everything in him not to burst right then and there and for a moment you think he’s gonna just explode. But when he speaks up again his voice is quiet, however you can feel all the anger and frustration behind it.

“Get in the car, we’re leaving.”

“What?”

“Get in the fucking car, Y/N!” he barks making you jump. Rosa and Steven, who arrived to the kitchen in the middle of this madness, are just watching the scene unfold, completely unable to even say a word.

Slowly, you slide off the stool and grabbing the bag filled with clothes you turn to Rosa.

“Thanks for… these,” you mumble before walking out, Harry following you right behind. 

Nothing is said as the two of you get into the car, Harry is clearly on the verge of anger outburst, but you’re pretty upset yourself. The drive back to your place is painfully quiet, but you can’t stop staring at his hands gripping the wheel. HIs fingers and knuckles are turning white from the way he is basically crushing the wheel in his hold. You wouldn’t be surprised if it had his grip’s imprint on it by the time you arrive to your building. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he snaps once the car is parked.

“Would you stop pretending like you have a saying in what I do?”

“I do have a saying in it! Because when you break again I’ll be the one picking you up from the ground!”

“Well, sorry it’s such an inconvenience to be my friend. But don’t worry, I won’t come to you again,” you snap back with a grimace and try to open the door, but it’s locked. “Let me out, Harry!”

“Fuck no, not until we talk about this,” he scoffs and it’s the last straw for you.

“There’s nothing to talk about! It’s none of your business, Harry! Stop pretending like you care!”

“I do care!” he shouts back so forcefully you are taken aback, sinking into your seat. “Of course I fucking care! How would I not?! I care about you so fucking much, how do you not see it?!”

At this point, you’re certain Harry has lost all self control and he is about to load he has been holding back out on you, while you’re just sitting there, staring at him completely speechless over how his whole being is filled with anger and fury.

“Stop fucking telling me that I don’t care when all I think about is you! Every damn day! I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, because every time my mind snaps right back to you when I’m trying to think about something else! Do you know how fucking painful it is?! See you fucking waste your time with that dickhead when I want to be with you?!”

Eyes widened you forget to even breathe as the words leave his lips and soon enough realization hits him hard about what he just said. His chest is violently waving, eyes staring straight ahead. Next time he speaks up the shouting is over, he is clearly shocked at his own behavior.

“Y/N, I-- what you told me last time, about ending up alone, that wasn’t the first time you told me all of that.”

“What?” you gasp.

“You broke down the same way at the wedding. Told me all about how you think you are just simply unlovable and will probably die alone.” His eyes snap down at his hands on his lap as he continues. “I was shocked how you’d ever think that way about yourself, because I was… I was already falling in love with you and I barely just met you that night. I couldn’t imagine what happened to you that made you believe that nonsense. I never felt like that with anyone else before and it was so fucking scary. Every time you looked at me or touched me, I could feel… the sparks. The fucking sparks, Y/N,” he lets out a bitter chuckle. “I never believed in that, but you made me feel that way. Then… one thing happened after the other and we were up in my room. I saw the way you looked at me, like I was your fucking everything and I have never experienced that. You fell asleep in my arms and I told myself that this is exactly how I want to spend the rest of my life.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you listen in complete shock as Harry is still avoiding to look at you.

“I wanted to be the person who shows you how lovable and amazing you are, how worthy you are to be loved. Like I found my mission all of a sudden.”

“Then what the fuck happened in the morning?” you ask choking out the words. Harry finally turns to face you and you see his watery eyes. He was crying.

“You fell asleep and I was just watching you… and I realized that… sooner or later I would do something to hurt you. Because that’s what I always do and I didn’t want that. You didn’t deserve that, but I just knew I won’t be able to give you what you wanted and needed. And you told me all about how you just want to be loved and… I didn’t want to disappoint you in any way.”

He rubs his eyes turning back to look straight ahead and you see his lips tremble before he speaks up again. 

“I said all those stuff so you’d have a reason to hate me and you wouldn’t try to stay with me.”

“This is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you chuckle bitterly as the tears keep rolling down your cheeks. “Do you have any idea how fucking horrible I felt after that? I felt so ashamed for fucking weeks, Harry!”

“I-I know. I mean, I figured.”

“You made me feel unwanted and dirty, it took me so long to build my confidence back and be able to think of myself as more than just some used rug that was thrown out!”

Harry sits there in complete silence and just lets you load everything out on him, because he knows that’s what he deserves. He has tried to punish himself in so many different ways for what he did to you, but he knew he had to face you someday. Now the time has come and he is done trying to run away from the consequences of his actions in the past.

“I was blaming myself all this time, thinking that I must have done something wrong, when in reality it was you! It was fucking you!”

“I know, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it to end like this.”

“You didn’t mean it to end like this?” you snap. “You literally continued to treat me like shit for years! If it wasn’t for Valerie, you’d still be a complete dick to me! And what was your intention with this now, huh? Why did you tell me all of this now?!”

“Because I couldn’t stop… seeing you be so unhappy with someone who clearly doesn’t deserve you in any way. I’m selfish and I realized that I made a mistake, but I now know what I should have done, because…” He finally turns to face you again, you see a tear roll down his cheek as he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I’m fucking done pretending like I don’t.”

You stare back at him, breath caught in your throat and it’s the breaking point. You reach over to his side and unlock the doors so you can open yours and you jump out of the car wanting to get as far away from him as possible. He can’t just throw all of this on you after everything the two of you went through, that’s not how it works. Does he even mean it? How are you supposed to believe him after years of hatred?

You try to get inside the building, but he is quick to catch up with you, he grabs your upper arm and pulls back, but you yank his hold away. 

“Where are you going?!” he snaps towering above you.

“Home. And don’t fucking touch me!”

“But I literally just told you I love you, you’re not gonna say anything about that?”

At first you plan on not even answering, you make your way towards the door, but then you change your mind. Turning around you unload on him once again.

“You don’t have the right to tell me you love me! Not after all the shit I took from you! How am I supposed to believe it when you literally made me feel like shit for all these years, saying the meanest stuff to me every damn time we met! I was avoiding you like the plague because I can’t even count how many times you made me cry calling me names and treating me so fucking horrible! No, you are not just gonna waltz in here, tell me that I have to break up with my boyfriend because you’ve been in love with me all along. I don’t fucking believe you, Harry. So stay the fuck away from me,” you tell him and push your way inside. This time he doesn’t follow.

By the time you reach your front you’re sobbing, barely seeing from your own tears. With shaking hands you unlock the door and get inside shutting the door behind you before you collapse on the floor. 

Harry lives in delusion if he thinks he can just unload all of this on you and make everything right magically. Not after more than three years of the shit you took from him. How are you supposed to believe that he is telling the truth? If he loved you all along, how could he treat you like that? That’s not what love should feel like. All those countless times when you came home after seeing him and you couldn’t help but cry after some of his meanest comments… and now he is trying to make you believe he did it all to protect you from him? Bullshit.

It doesn’t work like that and now he is gonna have to face the consequences of his actions. 

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@f-vasquezp​ @perspnhel​ @http-cherries​  @h-arrystyles​ @just-damn-bored​ @millennial-teenybopper​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @gwenlovesharrystyles​ @perfectywrong​ @do-youseeme​ @burberryharold​  @irwindoll​ @stylesfics-xx​ @sltwins​ @mellamolayla​ @funeral-7​  @yourkidsfavbabysitter​ @nesiamenick​ @sunflower6why​ @rainbowbutterflyboy​​

[we-love-imagines]

How about one where Jotaro has a crush on the reader but he thinks the reader likes Kakyoin, so he tries to get them be together. Reader notices this, gets frustrated by it, and confesses to Jotaro out of said frustration

I really liked this ask!!! Thank you so much anon! I’m sorry this took so long, my ask box was being mean, but I hope you enjoy! I’m going to start writing more frequently again- I took a little break after Christmas Countdown!

warning: some naughty words and a sprinkle-dinkle of angst!

Ripping off the Band-Aid

Jotaro couldn’t take it anymore.

How you looked at him, how you laughed at all his jokes, how happy you two seemed together- it hurt more than words could express. Jotaro, over the course of your journey to Cairo, had somehow learned to love you; but he saw how you didn’t return his feelings, that much was obvious. There was little question in his mind that you and Kakyoin had a thing for each other. Yet, that isn’t what hurt the most.

It was the lack of closure that really stung; the feeling that he still had a chance with you clawing in the back of his mind every time he saw you and Kakyoin. Frankly, he wished you two would just get together already so he could pack away his feelings and be done with them. If he knew you were taken, forever out of his reach, he could let you go. But this weird limbo you were in, where you were simultaneously attainable and out of his grasp, was torture.  

While Kakyoin certainly wasn’t outgoing, he was far more approachable than Jotaro was. Of course you would prefer him; Kakyoin was nicer, smarter, and overall the better option compared to him. Jotaro really wanted to beat himself over the head sometimes, wondering if he’d be in Kakyoin’s position if he had just been a little nicer. Getting sick of all the ‘what if’s’ and heartache, Jotaro made the decision to get you and Kakyoin together as soon as possible. That was the only hope he had to pack away his jealousy, and put this stupid feeling behind him.

It started small, of course. Jotaro would distance himself from you and Kakyoin, giving you two a lot more time alone together than you were accustomed to. This technique quickly grew more obvious, like when Jotaro would whisper to the Old Man to let you two room together or insisting you both sit in the back during long car rides. While you enjoyed your time with Kakyoin, of course, both of you started to notice Jotaro’s desire that you two stay together at all times. When it was just the two of you, it felt like there was a piece missing- the third member of your little trio.

Jotaro got tired of you two still dancing around each other’s feelings, so he upped the ante. Pushing aside how much it hurt, he’d throw the old man’s money away on flowers and jewelry for you, writing “From: Kakyoin” on the little tags and leaving them in your hotel room. While he was never into this lovey-dovey type shit, part of him wished he could address this sweet, romantic gifts from himself. 

He didn’t know where he was going with this idea- you weren’t stupid. If Kakyoin admitted to you that he didn’t give you these gifts, you’d probably think it was some sick prank. For once, he hoped Kakyoin would lie to you, claim it was his doing and confess, so this could all be over with. Even if you did think it was some mean joke Jotaro was trying to pull, who cares? Maybe you and Kakyoin could bond over your shared hatred of him.

After a few of these incidents, your patience was beginning to wear thin. At this point, Jotaro refused to speak to you and Kakyoin outside of conflict, always ducking away the moment you three were alone together. Not to mention the weird, frequent gifts; it was clear Kakyoin wasn’t getting them for you, seeing as he freaked out and assumed the strange objects in your room were part of an enemy Stand. Quickly discovering it wasn’t part of a ploy to kill you, you figured that it must be from another member of the group- you had a sneaking suspicion of who it could be.

The next time you checked into a hotel, you hatched a plan with Kakyoin to catch your mysterious benefactor red-handed. While you two were “hanging by the pool,” Hierophant Green remained in the hotel room, watching and waiting for them to deliver the goods. 

Wouldn’t you know it, Jotaro shuffled into the room, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. When he saw you weren’t there, he pulled back his large, black coat to reveal a little bouquet of daisies, scribbling “From: Kakyoin” on the tag, leaving as quickly as he came.

Something in you was deeply hurt by this, rage pooling in your gut as you stood up from your poolside chair.

“I knew it!” you exclaimed to Kakyoin, your eyebrows knitting tightly as you spoke, “That bastard’s been messing with us! I’m gonna go give him a piece of my mind!”

As you began to stomp away, Kakyoin called for you to wait just a second, to try and calm down before you went to confront him. However, his words fell on deaf ears, your face going red out of pure frustration. Jotaro has the gall to ditch you and Kakyoin out of nowhere, try and push you two together at all times, and now he’s trying to fool you? Nuh-uh. Not on your watch. You were determined to figure out his little game so you could figure out why he wanted you out of his life so badly. 

Behind all your anger was genuine hurt- someone you cared about very, very deeply looked like he wanted nothing to do to you. You deserved an explanation at least.

Angrily marching up to his hotel room door, you knock with resounding force before waiting for him to answer. After a moment, the door opened up, Jotaro’s eyes widening when he saw the furious look on your face. Before he could shut the door on you, you placed your foot in the doorframe, forcing yourself in with an angry glare.

“You’re not getting out of this one, Jojo,” you practically snarled, crossing your arms as you stood before him, “You owe me an explanation.”

Without skipping a beat, Jotaro dryly remarked, “Kakyoin asked me to do it.” In his mind, Jotaro felt like shit for what he was doing; the fact that you were this upset surprised him, but he didn’t let that show on his face. His bold-faced lie only seemed to heat you up further, the hurt in your heart threatening to boil over.

“Don’t spout Bullshit at me, Jotaro. Since you’ve been making me and Kakyoin spend every waking moment together, he’d never have the time to buy anything.”

Jotaro, in his usual emotionally-unavailable fashion, remained stone-faced as he turned away from you. He was trying to suppress his feelings, trying to put the pain of hurting you aside so all of this could be over and done with. While he felt you staring daggers into his back, he tried his best to pretend you weren’t there, searching for the TV remote in the hopes you’d just go away- go away and find Kakyoin, that is.

You were both used to fighting in the literal sense, beating the snot out of enemy Stand users on the regular. However, fights like these, arguments about emotions and friendship and junk, were somehow a million times scarier for Jotaro. He couldn’t just hit the problem until it stopped moving, he had to sit down and sort out his feelings- the very feelings he was trying to keep hidden.

While Jotaro wanted to ignore you, you were done being ignored by him. Your bubble of anger burst as Jotaro grabbed the remote, sending your Stand to slap it out of his hands and forcefully turn him around to face you.

“You know how much it hurts when you try to push me and Kakyoin away? How much we miss hanging out with you?” you spit at him, words spewing out of you as everything boiled over, “I dunno what you’re trying to do with the flowers and boxes of chocolate, but it isn’t funny. If you’re trying to get me and Kakyoin together or something, it won’t work- I don’t like him like that. I like you like that!”

Clutching a hand over your mouth, you couldn’t believe what you said. By the uncharacteristic blush on his face, Jotaro couldn’t believe it either. Ever since he saved your ass from Yellow Temperance, you’ve definitely had a thing for Jotaro. That thing grew and grew, especially in his absence; in all honesty, that’s probably why his trickery hurt you so badly. Both of you stood motionless, silence hanging in the air as you both waited for the other to speak.

After a few long, deafening moments, Jotaro finally croaked out, “So... you’re not into Kakyoin?”

“Only as a friend,” you squeaked out in response, your cheeks reddened and blazing hot, “Did you think me and Kakyoin were...?”

“-Yes.”

Again, both of you just stared at each other, trying to gauge what the other was thinking. You had just confessed your feelings to Jotaro, and other than his pink cheeks, his stoic face remained the same. Little did you know, his stomach was doing backflips, his mind racing at a mile a minute trying to comprehend what you had said. 

You liked him? You really, really liked him? Like that?

He practically short-circuited, anything about DIO or the outside world gone from his mind; to him, it felt like the entire universe was just this room, and you two were it’s sole inhabitants.

“Jotaro?” you mumbled his name weakly, breaking him out of his reverie. He didn’t realize how long you’d both been standing there, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the prolonged silence left you wondering if your feelings were returned.

“I- I, um-” he stuttered, quickly trying to regain his composure, “I thought you and Kakyoin had feelings for each other, so I tried to help you two out.”

“Oh, I see,” was all you managed to mumble out, your mind swirling with thoughts of rejection. Was this a subtle way to tell you to get lost? If he wanted you and Kakyoin to get together, he probably didn’t feel the same. You turned to leave, trying to hold back tears as you reached for the door’s handle.

“(Y/n),” he stopped you, grasping you by the wrist. You turn to face him, his grip sliding towards your hand as you found yourself closer to him than ever before.

“I tried to get you and Kakyoin together because I thought I didn’t have a chance with you. I thought it would make me feel better,” he admitted, his face now fully red as he averted his gaze from yours, “You know I’m bad with the mushy stuff, but I like you, (Y/n). A lot.”

Both you didn’t realize how good hearing that out loud would make you feel. Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His body was still for a moment, almost as if he didn’t believe this was really happening, but eventually his tenseness melted away as he returned your physical affection. Jotaro felt a little dizzy, but in a good way- he was so surprised you felt the same way, it made him delirious.

“I’m sorry I got so angry,” you whispered into his chest, arms slowly pulling off of him, “Me and Kakyoin really missed you.”

“I’ll try not to overdo it next time,” he chuckled, looking down to meet your eyes again. You jokingly punched him in the arm, trying to muster up an angry expression despite how good you felt.

“There won’t be a next time doofus!”

As you both laughed together, you tried your best to memorize the rare joyful look on Jotaro’s face. You had a feeling you’d be seeing it more often.

[cicissketchbook]

Y’all wanna read my Apritello story?

So sometimes when my artistic drive is down, the writing bug will come bite me. I’ve been working on an Apritello story for awhile that currently has three chapters that are up on my Patreon. Eventually I’ll post it publicly, but I want my patrons to have early access. Anyway here’s an excerpt from the first chapter.

It’s kind of angsty.

The summary is, April invites Donnie to join her for a long weekend at the farmhouse, which sounds romantic until you consider that she’s been plagued with visions of his accidental death and is desperate to stop it from happening.

To say there was tension in the air was a drastic understatement. Truthfully, things had been tense for a while. Blame it on cabin fever, or perhaps they were outgrowing their sewer lair, but the brothers had been quick to jump down each other’s throats. 

Leo was especially on edge, and not unlike how it had been since they were kids, his mood had set the tone for everyone else. One thing that differed from childhood though, was that he had been butting heads with Donnie, while Raph remained a mostly neutral third party. 

There was the knowledge that they were getting older and they all had desires to get out there and live their own lives, and then the realization that doing so wasn’t really possible for them in the world they lived in. They wanted what any young adults would want, but they were mutants.  The world still saw them as freaks. They couldn’t lead normal lives the way they wanted to. They knew this, they had known this all their lives. They had all been on the same page about it. They realized that living their lives in the sewer, at least most of it, was probably in the cards. April had always contested this idea, believing that the world would accept them in time. It’s not like people didn’t know mutants existed, but the turtles weren’t willing to take the risk. It’s not like they couldn’t go out and do things like they always had, but leaving the nest for good just wasn’t feasible. And they were content with this. The sewer was all they’d ever known. They’d always been together and they were happy to always be together. 

But like all families, arguments were inevitable. Familiarity breeds contempt, after all. And they were accustom to bickering. But… it was different now. Leo seemed ready to explode at the drop of a pen, Raph never seemed to be able to find enough alone time, Donnie felt like he brought more to the table than the other three combined, and Mikey… sweet Mikey was such an incurable optimist that he sought to find the positive in every situation, but they knew he did this to mask his depression.  

If asked what they were arguing about today, the simple answer would be that they were all just getting on each other’s nerves. Donnie couldn’t even remember how the argument started because they fought about trivial things so frequently, but he remembered the thing that Leo said that set him off.

“God, why is it so hard for you to just do your part? Why do we have to pick up your slack?”

Donnie was silent for a moment, almost unsure he’d heard correctly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you never fucking help out with anything!” Leo’s tone implied that there was something else he was upset about that he wasn’t speaking of. 

Donnie, by his best effort, kept his voice calm and composed. “I’m sorry, are you referring to three days ago when I didn’t help clean up the disaster in the kitchen because I was literally putting the microwave back together? Or perhaps last week when you left a mess for me to clean up that you all made while I wasn’t even here? And then you got mad when I didn’t?”

Leo seemed to get more aggravated at the mention of Donnie not being there, but continued on. “C’mon man, there are four of us that live here, it’s really not asking too much for everyone to help clean up around here.” 

“Dude, I clean up after myself more than anyone. The difference is, when I make a mess, it’s in my lab rather than communal space and-“

“Oh, right, I forgot. The huge space you have that’s your’s. That none of us have.” Leo turned to their other brothers who sat near by. “Hey Raph, other than your tiny bedroom, do you have your own creative space that you can do whatever you want in? Mikey, how about you?”

Raph hadn’t spoken, but seemed invested in the exchange his brothers were having. It was impossible to tell who’s side he was on. Before Mikey could speak, Raph stopped him and said firmly, “Leave us out of this, man.”

“So now your mad at me… because of my lab?”

Leo paused, not making eye contact, before he huffed. “No.” He admitted quietly.

Normally, Donnie was used to these arguments making little or no sense, but Leo seemed genuinely angry and he couldn’t understand why. 

“Bro, what is up?” He demanded. “Why are you actually so upset?”

“I just…” Leo started. Donnie could tell there was something he didn’t want to say. Leo crossed his arms and turned away from his brother. “I just want to know… where your priorities are.”

“My priorities?” Donnie was trying not to lose his patience. He had no idea where this was coming from nor where it was going. Which meant one of two things. Either there was something his brother wasn’t telling him, or this was in fact going no where. Like, this had started out a fight about cleaning duties, and now he’s talking about priorities. If Leo did have a point, he wanted him to hurry up and make it because this argument seemed like a waste of time.

“It just…” Leo blew another huff through his nose. “It just seems like… you are… distancing yourself from us, Donnie.”

This statement completely threw Don for a loop. He hadn’t expected that at all. “What in the world are you talking about?” He asked, truly bewildered by the turn in conversation. “Because I don’t want to clean up messes that aren’t mine? Like what the hell-?”

“No, obviously it’s not that. It’s alot of things.” Leo spoke quieter now, not as impassioned. 

“Well, I would love to know what those things are, because I am completely lost here.”

“You never want to hang out with us anymore, and when you do, you act like you’d rather be doing anything else-“

Donnie cut him off with a humorless chuckle. “We’re brothers, we all get on each other’s nerves.” 

“And I get that, but we do all still live together and we all need to contribute to the household chores, and you’ve just been acting like you are so far above doing any type of housework that doesn’t directly effect you.”

“Well, excuse me Leo, sorry if when it rains and the power get knocked out and I have to go topside by myself in the cold pouring rain to fix the power line, I don’t also want to have to mop up the leak in the kitchen when none of you did anything to help!”

“Okay, you keep bring up specific instances, but I’m talking about in general-“

“No, you’re talking alot of nonsense is what you’re doing!” Donnie’s lack of patience was starting to show. “First you’re mad that you think I don’t clean enough, then you’re mad that I have a lab and you don’t? Then you say I’m distancing myself from you all…?” Donnie stood and made a move like he was going to walk away. “If you have something to say, Leo, you better just say it because this whole conversation seems like a waste of time to me. It’s late and I’m tired, so make your point, or I’m going to bed.”

“Are you distancing yourself from us because of April?”

Donnie had already started walking away, as he didn’t expect Leo to actually have a point, so he was halted to a standstill at his words. “What does she have to do with anything?”

Leo looked away again, like he didn’t actually want to have this conversation. After a moment, he sighed and continued without making eye contact. “It just seems like… I mean… I thought we were all on the same page here. We’ve had this discussion, a long time ago. We aren’t…. Human. We’re getting older and it makes sense that we’d want to start living our own lives, but… we can’t. Not really. The world doesn’t accept us, so staying down here is just how it has to be. I thought we had agreed on that. That no matter what the world thought of us, no matter that we can’t lead normal lives, at least we all had each other. But… now it seems like you have other plans, Donnie.”

He finally looked at his brother and Donnie could see the emotions in his eyes. Nothing of what he said had been new information, of course. Donnie knew, painfully well, that the world saw them as freaks and being “normal” was not a luxury they’d ever be able to have. Alot of their friends were at the point where they were starting to branch off, which didn’t help. Karai and Shinigami were currently back in Japan. It was just a visit, but the kind of visit that lasted for a month or two. Casey had gotten a hockey scholarship for a different school than the one April attended. He was trying to go pro, so he poured all his time and attention into practicing. He still came around, but not like he used to. Mona Lisa had left Earth awhile ago, also with promise to return, but they hadn’t heard from her in a few weeks. They were sure it was just a new mission she had, but that didn’t make Raph feel any better. April was the only one who still came around all the time. With most of their enemies gone, everyone was moving on and it felt like the world didn’t need them anymore. 

The pain in Leo’s voice would’ve normal made Donnie want to hug him, but it was the accusation that he couldn’t get over.

“Leo…” He gestured non threateningly with his hands. “Why are you acting like I’m not literally living down here in the sewers right along with you? And I still don’t see what April has to do with anything-” 

“Okay, I’m going to jump in here.” Raph said unexpectedly. “Look, Dude, I know we don’t… we don’t say it enough but… we would be up schitts creek without a paddle without you.” He crossed the room to give Leo a lighthearted punch in the arm. “Wouldn’t we, Leo?”

“…Yeah.”

“So because of that, the idea of you leaving is…. It’s scary.” Raph admitted. He was going to say something else, but Donnie interrupted.

“I’m not going anywhere! What in the actually hell are you guys talking about?!”

Leo rolled his eyes, apparently getting annoyed again. “Don, can we please stop pretending like you’re not going to marry April and then move in with her?”

Donnie froze. To say they touched a nerve was an understatement. April was his best friend, but truthfully, it was very painful to be her friend sometimes. His feelings for her were still just as intense as ever, but for different reason now. In his youth, he’d maintained a kind of innocent hopefulness that they would someday be together, and he never even really thought of the details of how. He knew, even back then, that it wasn’t that simple and when he really thought about it, nothing about it made sense. Which is why he didn’t think about it. Now though, after some soul searching and dropping into a deep depression which he was starting to get better from, he’d resigned himself to the reality that she would never be with him. He’d accepted it, and told himself that it was enough to just be her friend. But the truth was, that pain never went away.  They had such a close friendship, they had developed such a level of comfort with each other, but he knew it would never be enough. The idea of never seeing her again was unbearable, but to be so close to her, knowing that it was as close as he would ever get… it was torture. He didn’t care though, he just couldn’t let her go.

What really hurt was when she would talk about the next stage in her life. She was in school now, but with her grades and what she was studying, she could go anywhere. She wanted to travel, she spoke of it often. She never made any committal remarks about moving away, other than when she talked about the farmhouse and saying how expensive it is to live in the city. Her dad had signed the property over to her for tax reasons, and she would’ve inherited it anyway. She wanted to renovate it.

He was only vaguely aware that Raph and Leo were still talking.

“It’s not like we’re mad at you for finding love, that’s not it at all!” Raph was saying, obviously more concerned than Leo about ruffling his brother’s feathers. “It’s just, we need to be realistic about what would happen if you weren’t here.”

“Yeah, and the reality is, frankly, I think we all feel left behind by our friends, but we didn’t think  our clan would be breaking up as well!” Leo threw his hands up, finally letting his true feelings out. “I mean, all we have is each other, we’re the last of the Hamato clan! I can’t let this clan die, I just can’t.”

“Why do you guys feel the need to do that?” 

They stopped, taken aback by how low and serious Donnie’s voice was. He was done barking, he looked ready to bite. 

“Do what?”

Donnie’s chest felt tight and he had to taken in a sharp breath through his nose to keep his cool. “Why do you guys feel the need to not only remind me of my unrequited feelings for my… our  best friend… but now, you’re holding it against me?”

Raph looked concerned at first, but then sighed. “Donnie, c’mon, don’t act like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get out of here. April isn’t going to stay in New York forever.” 

The statement, while probably true, hurt to hear. “What does that have to do with me?” He said, quieter this time. “I can’t help what April does.”  

“Dude, she is literally planning her future with you in it. Have you not noticed that?” Leo nearly screamed. “You have the opportunity to get out of here and do something with your life, and we’ll be-“

“No she’s not!” Donnie shouted back. “Are you guys smoking crack or something? Don’t say that shit to me! April doesn’t…” He paused, his words getting caught in his throat. “April doesn’t want me. I thought we’d been over this.”

Mikey, who hadn’t yet spoke, immediately picked up on how much pain Donnie was in. “Hey guys, let’s just drop it, yeah?”

Leo pressed on as if his youngest brother hadn’t spoken. “Maybe she didn’t five years ago, but she sure as shit does now.” He didn’t seem bothered by Donnie visible cringe. “I mean, dude, you’ve spent the night, alone at her house.”

“So has Mikey. And Raph once, I think.” Donnie said quietly, and Raph nodded in confirmation. “And she’s spent the night here a billion times, that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mikey and Raph didn’t sleep in her bed.” Leo said accusingly. 

“I did.”  

They all paused and turned to the youngest brother. Raph spoke. “You did?”

“Every time I go over there, I sleep in her bed.” Mikey said matter-o-factly. “Whenever… whenever I’m sad, she let’s me come over and… she’ll listen. She doesn’t try to offer solutions, she doesn’t try and tell me things to make me feel better, she just… listens. And that’s what helps me the most. Then we watch funny videos.”

None of them commented at first. They all knew Mikey struggled with depression, but he rarely, if ever, talked about it. They all had told him at some point that they were there if he needed to talk, but he never came to any of them. One might of thought that hearing that his brother shared a bed with April might make Donnie jealous, but quite the opposite, it made him very happy and appreciative to hear about it. It made sense that Mikey would be more comfortable talking to April than to any of them, and to know that she had been there for him was comforting. Donnie wanted that for his brother. 

“See?” He said finally, more to Leo than anyone else. “April… she’s there for all of us. She cares about all of us… I’m not special.”

“Donnie, don’t say that.” Mikey offered and rose from his seat to place a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Donnie placed his own hand over Mikey’s and squeezed it, staring at the floor.  “She cares about you the most. More than you know.”

“Mikey, please, please don’t.” He said through his teeth. “I can’t… I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation right now. You know how long it took me to accept the fact that I was kidding myself by thinking there could ever be something between us? Of course you guys know, which is why it is so baffling to me that you feel the need to do this.” 

“So if April wanted you to move away with her, you wouldn’t do it?” 

Raph punched Leo in the arm again. It was a strange thing, to see Raph scold Leo for being insensitive. Donnie had had enough though.

“I’m out of here.” He turned on his heel and heading towards the turnstiles. 

...............

Yes, it’s NSFW, of course it is.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 30: Waiting

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Some comic relief. Kung Lao and Liu Kang have an adult-ish conversation before it turns into a much less mature conversation. Mostly about you. About some other stuff too. Sure hope that no one overheard it or anything.

A/N: Some humor to break up those last few chapters. Saturday is the chapter with the choice at the end then my posting schedule has to swap around a bit, will probably be Monday and Friday? One for Liu one for Lao? That cool?

Part 29 Part 31 Chapter Index

Liu Kang changed his bandages while seated on the floor of his room with his door open. Kung Lao leaned against the frame of the door with his arms folded across his chest. Liu turned his attention to his brother and offered a weary smile. Kung Lao had been checking on you for them both since Chen had sent them away. Liu had suggested that they wait patiently but even he’d had a difficult time not worrying about you. When Kung Lao had told him where to shove that idea, he’d relented. Liu had been the one to care for you when you’d first arrived. He wanted to be the one to care for you now.

Raiden had said something about them both becoming too attached.

Liu hadn’t argued even if he thought that was a ridiculous reason to keep their distance.

“Have you heard anything yet?”

“That woman taking care of Y/N turned me away again and this time she was mean.” The annoyance in Kung Lao’s voice was completely unjustified. His vendetta against the people working in the infirmary was extremely silly. But Kung Lao wouldn’t talk about it and Liu Kang couldn’t make him.

“She needs taking care of, Lao.”

“Yeah, which I am perfectly capable of doing.”

“You are not qualified.” Liu chuckled as he finished wrapping up his arm. It had healed as well as could be expected over the last few days. It would take a few weeks to be back to normal, but he was prepared for the climb. “You don’t even take of yourself when you need it.

“Only because they make me go to the infirmary every time. They don’t trust me to do it alone.”

“Because you don’t do it.” Liu stood and dusted himself off. “When was the last time that you checked your bandages or your wounds? Are you even bothering with them anymore?”

“No, because they’re fine.”

“I think I just made my point. Everyone’s point.”

“You get to take care of your wounds. Why do I have to go to the infirmary to do it?”

“Because I’m qualified. And I actually do it.” He threw away the old bandages.

Kung Lao grumbled and then tilted the door closed behind him before leaning against the nearby wall. Liu sat on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh. He was listless. Doing nothing and waiting patiently was part of what they did in Raiden’s Temple, but it didn’t mean that he was content to do it. While he composed himself better than Kung Lao, he was just as worried and frustrated by the lack of control he had.

“I’m going to sneak in through her window. She can’t stop me from there. I’ll fall to my death. She doesn’t want to be responsible for that.”

“That’s a terrible idea. One of your worst.” Liu laughed in disbelief at his brother. “Sure, you’ll get in, but she’ll kick you right out after. Not to mention that you’re going to terrify the poor woman. And Y/N’s bed is right beneath the window. You could hurt her.”

“I could just use my hat.” He tapped the brim.

“Same results, Lao.” Liu rested his elbow on his knee and ran his fingers through his hair. “Chen is good at what she does. Y/N is in capable hands.”

Kung Lao took a seat next to him with a frustrated huff. They sat in tense silence.

“How is your arm doing, anyway?”

“It’s healing fine. Stitches will be coming out soon.” Liu patted the bandage on his left arm. He had a relatively high pain tolerance, and he wasn’t the type to complain. It’d hurt like a son of a bitch when the ink had sliced through his flesh, but he’d been more worried about you in the moment. “No more fever which has helped tremendously.”

“I hear that.” Kung Lao was staring wide-eyed in front of him. He had so little patience, which was something Liu usually gave him hell for, but in this situation, he was right there alongside him. They sat in silence again, a frequent occurrence over the past few days. So much had happened since they had last had a chance to speak and neither one of them seemed willing to talk about it. They’d spent plenty of time together waiting for you to wake up, but it had mostly been in frustrated silence.

“Did she tell you?” Lao didn’t turn his wide-eyed gaze away from the floor.

“Tell me what?

“That we kissed.” Kung Lao clasped his hands together in front of him and tapped his fingers nervously against his other hand. Liu Kang heaved a sigh and tried not to let it bother him, but he was sure that his silence said more than enough. He shouldn’t have been surprised.

“No, she didn’t. But I suspected as much after how she behaved in Huangshan. You had her all mixed up.” Liu tapped his foot and then let go of his frustration with a breath. He had gotten into his head that you were his Y/N. This wasn’t easy to talk about for either of them. “I think she was afraid to tell me. Afraid of how I’d react.” Rationalizing it had been enough to wipe the remaining frustration completely away. “She carries more guilt than she lets on, I think.”

“Funny that you put it that way because she didn’t seem to have a problem telling me that she’d kissed you.”

Was Kung Lao trying to get on his nerves? He did that sometimes, but Liu had gotten good at navigating his way around it. He laughed under his breath and Kung Lao seemed genuinely surprised not to have annoyed him.

“You have known her since you were nine, Kung Lao. You have a connection that is deeply rooted in your childhood. It’s nothing like the one I have with her. It is worlds apart.”

“Wow, I don’t think that I’ve heard that kind of jealousy from you since we were teenagers.” Kung Lao smirked. Liu tapped his foot and heaved another sigh. It wasn’t the connection that had caused his renewed frustration. This had gone on for too long.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore.” Liu frowned. “I can’t get it out of my head. I want out of the bet. I never felt good about it to begin with, Kung Lao. It’s making me act differently. I don’t want any part of it.”

“So, you’re chickening out, huh?”

Liu rolled his eyes.

“Why are you doing this, Lao?”

“What kind of question is that? Did I not explain the bet to you?”

“Are you sabotaging any chance you might actually have with someone you care about?” Liu watched Kung Lao instantly stiffen up and knew he’d hit the nail right on the head. “When I was brought to the temple and we became family, you spoke of Y/N so fondly. Now she’s here and you’re willing to risk any relationship that you have rebuilt with her so that you don’t have to do a few chores? It’s absurd, Lao. You don’t think she’s going to be upset? Feel gross about it? Because I feel gross about it.”

Kung Lao clenched his jaw and stopped tapping his foot and fingers and stared at the floor again instead. Liu waited patiently and rotated his left shoulder, feeling the stinging in his arm and the pain that radiated down to his fingertips. He would focus on stretching his muscles until Kung Lao was done arguing in his head. He did that sometimes, especially when he was arguing with Liu. This wasn’t the first time that he’d told Kung Lao a harsh truth and it wouldn’t be the last. Kung Lao had done the same for him, but it had been less necessary over the years. Liu Kang was the type who saw his shortcomings before others did.

“I really hate when you call me out on my bullshit.” Kung Lao finally chuckled.

“Call it what you will, Lao. If you won’t let me back out of the bet, then I forfeit. I’ll do your chores. I don’t care. I stand by what I said when you first suggested it. I don’t want to bet on someone else’s feelings. Let her feel what she feels authentically so that I can feel what I feel authentically.” He mussed up his hair in annoyance.

“It’s fine.” Kung Lao deflated next to him. It was comical. His posture had completely changed. “Honestly, I felt pretty terrible about it by the end of our trip to Japan. Like I was… manipulating her. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I thought it was a harmless and fun thing but you’re probably right. I’m purposely… screwing it up.” Kung Lao unclasped his hands and stood then dragged the chair from Liu’s desk and sat on it backwards. He couldn’t seem to sit still since you had fallen unconscious. Liu had struggled with that too, but he’d always had an easier time focusing than Kung Lao had. “The bet’s off. I’ll tell her about it, I guess. I don’t want to feel like I’m hiding anything anymore.”

“Is that so?” Liu smiled, feeling a little relief. “Not going to make me do your chores?”

“Not over this at least. I’ll weasel out of them some other way, I’m sure.” Kung Lao grinned. He seemed like himself for the first time in days. Maybe it really had been weighing on him as heavily as it had been weighing on Liu.

“Does that mean I was right? Self-sabotage?”

“Ugh, can you not rub it in? Just for once?”

“Not a chance.” Liu Kang laughed, and Kung Lao leaned his arms on the back of the chair then rested his chin on them with a heavy sigh. Whatever happened, he knew that they would be okay. They’d broken the dam when it came to talking about it, which felt nice if not a little daunting. At some point, he had gotten nervous to bring it up again. He didn’t want to hurt Kung Lao, but he couldn’t give up on you either even if he couldn’t get it out of his head that it was selfish for him not to.

“So, she kissed you again, huh?” Kung Lao diverted attention away from his emotions, something he did very frequently. Funny enough, Liu thought that you did the same thing. You were similar in many ways. “…wait, you didn’t want to end the bet because you uh…” Kung Lao sat upright, and alert suddenly then made a motion with his hands that was rather crude. Liu Kang hesitated but then shook his head no. “You didn’t win and not tell me, did you?”

“Those weren’t the terms of the bet, remember? I would have never agreed if it had been.”

“That’s evasive, Liu.”

“I’m just saying that the conditions had to do with her choice and not any physical achievement, Kung Lao. We’re not stupid kids.”

“Wow, this is so incredibly defensive.” Kung Lao whispered in wonder.

“I dislike talking about this with you.” Liu Kang frowned. “Talking about her like this with you. It’s uncomfortable.”

“I hate it too!” Kung Lao laughed and threw his arms up in frustration then let them fall back over the chair dramatically. “Just… look, tell me if I lost. Tell me if I don’t stand a chance. I just want her to be happy.” He said this all with a grumble, as if it were like pulling teeth to say it. It was funny how uncomfortable he was with his emotions.

“That’s what I want too.” Liu Kang nodded to agree. “And I’m not the one to decide who wins or loses. And this isn’t a bet anymore.”

“No more bet.”

“The bet is off.” Liu Kang sighed with a relief. He wasn’t sure that Kung Lao was going to actually let it go. He was difficult to read. “That’s a huge relief.”

“Yeah, I mean… yes and no for me. You called me out and now I have to think about that.”

“Poor, poor Kung Lao. Having to think his own thoughts.”

“It’s a burden, really.”

“We have to tell her, Lao.”

“Yeah, I know. Can’t fix the self-sabotage thing if I don’t. And if you tell her and I don’t then that makes me look bad and we… we all know you and honesty, for the most part.”

“I can lie when I need to but I’m not going to lie about this.” Liu folded his arms over his chest. They sat in awkward silence again. There were plenty of things that they should have talked about, but it still felt weird to. Usually, they would have joked about this kind of thing and had the other to confide in, but they were both worried about hurting the other’s feelings and dashing their hopes.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Hmm?” Hadn’t he? He didn’t remember not answering Kung Lao.

“I asked if you two… you know.”

“Can you not say the words, Kung Lao? Are you not an adult?”

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to picture you two doing that.” Kung Lao stuck his tongue out and then shook his head as if to dismiss the mental image. “But did you?”

“No. I thought I told you no.” Liu had hesitated again. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to on your trip. No, he had wanted to, but he had thought about that stupid bet and how much it could potentially hurt you to have done that and then found out there had been stakes attached to your emotions. He’d pulled himself back because of it more than once while you were in Huangshan.

“How am I supposed to interpret that, Liu?” Kung Lao was laughing, at least. Liu Kang hung his head and Kung Lao only laughed harder.

“Look, she had a nightmare, so I let her sleep in my bed.”

“I’m sort of disappointed that you didn’t get laid at the end of this story.”

“It was your stupid bet that ruined it.” Liu chuckled but he could feel his face turning red.

“What, did you wake up with a half chub or something?” Kung Lao was teasing him, but he’d gotten to the end of the story before Liu had found a less crude way to tell it and Liu covered his face in embarrassment. Kung Lao was wheezing with laughter. “Liu! You didn’t!”

“In my defense, I was having a nice dream and she was right there in my arms and…”

“Wow, Liu. That’s more me than you.”

“I’m only human, Kung Lao.”

“Just, wow.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Liu pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His face was still burning but it felt nice to laugh about it with Kung Lao. He hadn’t talked to you about it because that felt like opening a floodgate and he’d needed to end this stupid bet first. Plus, it was kind of a difficult conversation to start. It was easier just to make a move.

“Did she… notice… or?”

“…I hate that you guessed so accurately. I never would have told you outright.”

“It’s amazing.” Kung Lao smacked the back of the chair in glee. “So?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she noticed, Kung Lao.” Liu Kang hung his head again, hands on his knees. Kung Lao was practically choking to death with how hard he was laughing at him. “You could try to enjoy my misfortune a little less.”

“This is the funniest thing that has happened in weeks, Liu Kang.” He wiped a tear away and tried to regain his breath. “Why didn’t you just go for it? I would have gone for it. Wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”

“Well, I’m not you. All I could think about was how hurt she would be if we did that and then found out about the stupid bet. And she had been so frightened after her nightmare. I played it off the best that I could given the circumstances.” Liu was laughing now too. He couldn’t help it. It was funny. And it felt good to laugh after having done nothing but worry and stress for three days.

“You know what, Liu? You are a much better man than I am sometimes.” Kung Lao wiped his eyes and regained his composure. “I never would have let that opportunity pass.”

“I know. I had no intention of telling you the truth either.”

“I’m glad you did. I needed a good laugh.”

“At my expense, of course.”

“Of course.”

Silence fell again, but it was at least less awkward. Liu supposed if that came at his expense than he was okay with it.

“What do we do now?” Liu sighed. Kung Lao was avoiding his eyes again.

“I don’t think it’s really up to us what happens next with that.”

“Yeah.” Liu nodded to agree. “…no hard feelings no matter what happens, right?”

“Not going to be that simple, I think.”

“Of course not, Kung Lao. But above all things, you are my brother.”

“Yes. Nothing will change that. It might just be weird while we figure it out.”

“Yeah, probably.” Liu didn’t have much else to say on the matter. Silence again. While he felt relieved that they’d cleared the air and sorted things out, it still weighed heavily on them both.

“…I’m going to check on her again.” Kung Lao stood and stretched his arms before nodding toward the door. “Want to come with me? Might overwhelm her.”

“No, I don’t need to see you harassing that poor woman again. She said that she’d tell us when Y/N wakes up.”

“I don’t believe her, Liu.”

“You have made that abundantly clear.” Liu Kang smiled, and Kung Lao bowed his head to say goodbye. “If I hear any jokes at my expense throughout the rest of the temple, Kung Lao, you will be sorry.”

“My lips are sealed, Liu.” Kung Lao chuckled again under his breath and then left Liu Kang alone with his thoughts.

[nizawrites]

Hi 🙋🏻‍♀️ would it be oki if you can please do a hc of a Bold/strong/teasingly ‘vampire s/o’ for saito~ Urd Geales and Ky Luc please, thank u 🙏🏽! This is my first time asking for a request so I’m a little nervous for some reason!😅

I believe that rigr/saito would be just like his s/o like for real.

Saito is definitely strong, physically and mentally (man i just think he's smart)

He's also bold like he will say what he wants and take the risks of saying something or doing something, man isn't scared at all.

He's also a tease, I believe he is like he can tease the hell out of his s/o.

Now, saito doesn't know how he ended up with a s/o who is quite like him

S/o was a progenitor just like him, saito probably met them way before he left the council and abandoned his other fellow progenitors.

He would be living together with his s/o who wasn't affiliated with the progenitor council anymore.

Expect regular banters from saito and his s/o. Saito has a habit of teasing the hell out of his s/o which will definitely bring out s/o's personality.

"Quit nagging already s/o. I've heard enough." saito would say as he walks away from s/o, feeling fed up with their nagging.

"aw~ are you really tired of me nagging that you decided to chicken out of this conversation and ignore me?" his s/o would say with a devilish smirk on their face "my my, rigr, i never knew you were such a sore loser."

Saito would be pissed but not to the point that he would snap his lover's neck or anything, he just knew that no matter what his s/o said, he couldn't find the right words to say in order to win the argument.

Teasing saito is really fun, he has some patience left in him so he's pretty chill.

"rigr~ have your chains gotten you stuck that you can't seem to move? aw, how adorable!" pure sarcasm in his s/o's voice.

Saito is a very chill man, he has great patience with dealing with a s/o who can tease the hell out of him, he's probably wondered once or twice why he hasn't ripped his s/o's heart and watch them turn into a demon, maybe it's because he loves them dearly? or maybe he lives for the fun his s/o can give.

As for s/o being strong, saito is proud to have a s/o who can physically protect themselves and take care of themselves. he can and will baby his s/o if needed but seeing how strong and amazing his s/o is on the battlefield, he truly believes he's found his match especially with the way his s/o thinks.

Aside from being physically strong because of their vampire strength, s/o is mentally strong in the sense that they can strategize and think things through. we all know saito is quite smart (everyone's smart in ons pls) but having a s/o who can think quite like him? damn saito is blessed and amazed.

It's rare to find someone like s/o in a world that's falling a part but for saito, he feels like he had one a lifetime prize. how can he not when he knows that he gets to spend his eternity with s/o, living happily together, fighting together and just staying alive together.

I feel like urd is a laid-back kind of person like he has the patience that can last forever.

I mean yeah, some people can get on his nerves but it isn't enough to anger him unless you're a progenitor who disobeyed him.

He is very patient and understanding of his s/o, he doesn't even have it in him to tease his s/o back if they ever tease him.

"ya know, the more you stay locked in here, doing paper work you're just gonna get wrinkles and get old." his s/o would say as they stand in front of urd's desk. "but then again, you wouldn't care anymore since you're ancient." they would say, giggling as they look at urd.

Urd would just ignore the second sentence and reply softly "I'll be done in a few minutes, wait for me in living room dear."

He wouldn't even have the energy to tease you back because he's "ancient" and he doesn't even know that you're teasing him or anything, baby is so clueless lol.

Urd has always known ever since he met s/o that they were a strong person.

Urd and his s/o goes on missions together and he honestly feels relieved that he doesn't have to take care of his s/o like worrying if they get hurt or something dangerous.

He cares, he does. He just doesn't show it often because that's his personality. His s/o would always be okay on their own because they don't want urd to worry about them. I mean come on, Lord Geales has the progenitor council to look after but ofcourse his s/o is still his top priority.

He just finds it nice to have a s/o who can take care of themselves, someone who can stand up on their own.

"Did you get hurt today? Any injuries?" Urd would softly ask as he looks his s/o up and down.

"nope, i'm fine." they would reply before smiling "am so strong that i didn't get hurt."

Urd would smile and ruffle his s/o's hair and kiss their forehead "Good to know that you're strong, s/o."

"but you'd probably break your back, gramps." they would say before giggling.

"Let's get something to drink? Any special requests?" Urd would say, moving his s/o to walk.

"none, gramps. " they would say "surprise me if you want"

Urd loves his life just the way it is and if he had the chance to continue living like that with his s/o, he would, even if it meant living like that forever. Urd was happy, genuinely happy.

Ky has a laid-back personality just like Urd but his is more noticeable.

I believe that if ky has a s/o who is bold and teasing, he wouldn’t really mind like he himself can tease back so it’s all good.

He enjoys having random banters with his s/o, like a lot. It amuses him with how his s/o is able to come up with quick replies that catch him off guard.

He’s always amazed with how bold his s/o is.

Like his s/o would talk back to higher progenitors and ky would be :o but s/o only talks back if they think they’re right or they know that the certain higher up is wrong.

In terms of strength, his s/o is strong. He knows physically and mentally that his s/o is strong so he doesn't worry much.

Ky... gets a bit flustered when his s/o teases him especially if it's the type of teasing that's romantic or quite sexual.

'that's quite bold of them to say' he would think before a hint of pink dusts his cheeks

But overall, ky can handle himself. He's like his s/o, he can be bold when he wants to and tease them if he feels like it.

S/o and Ky would work out so well, both of them having somewhat the same energy.

One of the reasons why ky fell for his s/o was definitely because of their personality.

a/n: hello!! so sorry for being inactive, was super busy with stuff :( anyways here's some owari no seraph crumbs <3 as you can see, it's my first time writing for rigr aaaah anyways hope you like this anon, sorry for the long wait ! take care everyone and stay safe <3

[qitwrites]

a numbers game 

Fandom: BNHA 

Pairing: Kiribaku 

(AO3) 

Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.

Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.

“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“

“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.

“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.

"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”

“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”

Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”

Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.

“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”

Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.

Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.

“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”

Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.

“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”

Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.

Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”

“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”

Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”

And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.

“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”

Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”

“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”

“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”

She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.

  He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.

>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4

I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.

  Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.

Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.

When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.

He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me

At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.

Bakugou you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.

The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 shit can you actually do that?

Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.

Bakugou try me

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(

xxx-xxx-xxx4 can I make it up to you somehow??

Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.

Bakugou I don’t fucking know.

Bakugou just stop giving out my no.

Bakugou I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE

Bakugou I will find you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you don’t have to find me ill come to you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 cuz ill def deserve it at that point

xxx-xxx-xxx4 anyway, im sorry again. really ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 goodnight

Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.

What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?

He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.

He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.

  Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 heyyo!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??

Bakugou stop texting me, that’ll be a great start

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!

Bakugou good for fucking you, leave me alone

xxx-xxx-xxx4 y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just think abt it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get back to work, talk soon!

Bakugou stop texting me dammit

Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.

  It is, predictably, not the end of things.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I just realized I didn’t give u my name

xxx-xxx-xxx4 Kirishima eijirou!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and you are?

Bakugou blocking you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 wait, r u a man?????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG

Bakugou can you calm the fuck down holy shit

Bakugou yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass

xxx-xxx-xxx4 oh phew!!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ok my dude

xxx-xxx-xxx4 please come down to the bar??????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise

Bakugou do you ever just stop talking

xxx-xxx-xxx4 NOPE :D

Bakugou Not a compliment

xxx-xxx-xxx4 what can I say

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im an opportunist

Bakugou you’re telling me

Bakugou fucker

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM STILL SO SORRY

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU

xxx-xxx-xxx4 actions speak hella louder than words

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I must action you

Bakugou what the fuck 

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you get what I mean!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 <location> this is the place

xxx-xxx-xxx4 its name is RIOT, u cant miss it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just lemme know when u can make it

Bakugou I haven’t agreed to shit asshole

Bakugou stop assuming things

xxx-xxx-xxx4 free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing

Bakugou …………………

Bakugou I’ll think about it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 HELL YEAH

xxx-xxx-xxx4 whats your name btw?

Bakugou like id tell you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I need it for the reservation!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks

Bakugou didn’t say im coming yet

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im super optimistic

Bakugou I can tell, you’re giving me a headache

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so………… name?

Bakugou no

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I’ll get it out of you eventually

Bakugou try me

Bakugou fucker

If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.

  “So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.

“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.

“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”

He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.

“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”

“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”

“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”

“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”

“You’re the actual fucking worst.”

“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.

Bakugou hates everything.

“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”

Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”

Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”

  bartender asshole <image attached>

Bakugou what the fuck

Bakugou why are you sending me cat pics?

Bakugou also that cat is stupidly cute

bartender asshole I know right?????

bartender asshole her name is ruby

bartender asshole and id die for her

bartender asshole i just figured ud be a cat person

Bakugou ………….

Bakugou I hate u

bartender asshole :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou Bakugou Katsuki

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

bartender asshole HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME

Bakugou I hate everything

bartender asshole except ruby. Its not allowed

Bakugou …………………………………

Bakugou except ruby

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

  Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.

Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.

He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.

There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.

Bakugou hates everything.

  dumbass bartender so what do you do???

Bakugou front-end development and web design

dumbass bartender oh damn!!!

dumbass bartender so youre like smart smart

Bakugou obviously

dumbass bartender have I seen your work anywhere??

Bakugou I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about

dumbass bartender ????????????????????

dumbass bartender that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!

dumbass bartender I just revisited the website, it looks so cool

Bakugou duh

Bakugou im the best

dumbass bartender I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D

Bakugou don’t you have work?

dumbass bartender aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3

Bakugou call me that again and I will fucking end you

dumbass bartender before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D

Bakugou I hate everything.

dumbass bartender D:

Bakugou except RUBY DAMMIT

dumbass bartender :D

  “Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”

Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”

“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”

“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.

‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.

“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”

“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“

“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”

“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks. 

“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”

“That’s so random-“

“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”

“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.

Bakubro just finished a massive project

Bakubro could use a drink this weekend

Bakubro know any good spots?

Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.

Kirishima I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!

Kirishima amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks

Kirishima ive heard the bartender is a great guy too

Bakubro way to toot your own fucking horn damn

Kirishima :DDDDD

Kirishima bt seriously

Kirishima please? ???? ??

Kirishima PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro fine.

Bakubro Friday night at 8

Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”

“Yeah?”

“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”

“Um, ok, why though?”

Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.

Kirishima YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Kirishima cant wait :D

Bakubro I’m bringing my stupid friends btw

Kirishima wait

Kirishima you have friends???????

Bakubro I am going to end you

Bakubro you know what? Fuck you im not coming

Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

Kirishima IM SORRY OFC U HAVE FRNDS

Kirishima please come

Kirishima how big a table should I reserve????

Bakubro don’t bother

Kirishima IM SORRRYYYYYYYYYY

Kirishima <image attached> <image attached> <image attached>

Bakubro bastard

Bakubro you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby

Kirishima need to weaken your guard somehow

Kirishima pls tell me it worked

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro ill be there

Bakubro reserve a table for 4

Bakubro your stupid bar better be worth it

Kirishima I promise it will be!!!!

Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.

“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.

The three giggle.

“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”

“HEY!”

Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”

“HEY!”

They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.

  Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.

Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.

“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”

“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.

“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.

That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.

“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.

“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.

He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.

dumbass cant wait to see you!!!

dumbass just ask for me at the bar

dumbass or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D

Bakugou I know dumbass

Bakugou what, are you nervous or some shit?

dumbass I mean, kinda????

dumbass it’s our first time meeting afterall

dumbass I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!

Bakugou blonde wearing all black

dumbass redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!

Bakugou whatever

Bakugou ill be there at 8

Dumbass cant wait <33333

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.

Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.

His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.

Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.

She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.

“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.

“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”

“See ya!”

Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Wha-“

“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”

Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.

They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.

  Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.

“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.

Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.

They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.

“Can I help you?”

“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.

“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s ears burn at that.

“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”

Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.

“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.

“What the fuck?”

“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.

“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”

Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.

“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.

Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.

The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.

“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.

Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.

“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.

When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.

“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”

He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”

“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.

“You owe me 10 bucks.”

This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“

The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”

Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.

“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”

“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.

“Coming right up!”

He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.

“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.

“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”

The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.

When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.

“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.

“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?” 

Bakugou hates everything.

He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”

Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”

Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.

“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”

“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie. 

Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.

“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.

“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.

Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”

Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”

“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-

“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.

Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”

Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.

“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”

“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.

“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”

“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.

“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.

Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.

  “Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”

Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.

“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”

“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.

Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?

Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.

The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”

“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”

  For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.

Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.

And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.

“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.

“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.

“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.

“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”

It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.

“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”

“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.

“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”

“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”

“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”

Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”

“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.

“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.

Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.

“And you Bakubro?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”

“Lightweight,” Camie teases.

Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”

“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.

“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.

Bakugou. Hates. Everything.

“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.

Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”

Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.

Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.

When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”

Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.

  Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.

Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“

“Ei, you better text him again.”

“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”

“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”

“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.

“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”

“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”  

  Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.

He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-

Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.

The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.

The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.

He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.

He expects none from Kirishima.

So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.

Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.

fuck he’s cute hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!

fuck he’s cute it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D

fuck he’s cute bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.  

Bakugou you got cam completely hooked

Bakugou and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.

Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.

fuck he’s cute :D :D :D :D :D

fuck he’s cute can’t wait

fuck he’s cute <image attached>

fuck he’s cute ruby says hi

It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.

He barely manages to reply coherently.

Bakugou the only bright spot in this shitty world

He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.

  It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.

dumbass kirishima GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D

dumbass Kirishima someone threw up on my fave shoes last night

Bakugou HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Bakugou suffer

dumbass Kirishima y u so mean to me ☹ ☹

Bakugou cause its fuckin hilarious

dumbass Kirishima ☹

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou <image attached> [it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima legit felt my serotonin just spike

dumbass Kirishima thxxxxxx

Bakugou whatever

Bakuguo dumbass

 ---

 Bakugou if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body

dumbass Kirishima D:

dumbass Kirishima at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes

dumbass Kirishima what a lack of manners

Bakugou stfu

dumbass Kirishima :”D :”D

dumbass Kirishima youre joking right?

dumbass Kirishima right??

dumbass Kirishima RIGHT?????

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS

Bakugou don’t call me bro

dumbass Kirishima THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW

Bakugou lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry

Bakugou or did I?

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

 ---

 dumbass Kirishima <image attached> [it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]

dumbass Kirishima working on deez gainz

Bakugou what time do you usually workout

dumbass Kirishima depends on my schedule actually

dumbass Kirishima I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day

Bakugou hmmm

Bakugou let me know

Bakugou maybe we can go together

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh I changed my mind

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima no takebacksies

Bakugou fucking fantastic

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

 ---

 “So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”

Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”

Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“NOOOOO,” Midoriya bemoans dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m missing all this.”

“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”

“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.

“I truly loathe you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”

“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”

“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”

“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”

“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”

Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.

“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”

“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”

“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.

Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.

  Kiri bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Bakugou what?

Kiri just wanted to say hi <3

Bakugou wth

Kiri we still on fr the gym tomorrow?

Bakugou obviously you dumbass

Bakugou I need you to spot me

Bakugou im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying

Kiri so manly :O :O :O

Kiri I’ve got you bruh

Bakugou don’t call me that

Bakugou and I know you do

Kiri <3 <3

 ---

 Bakugou <link>

Bakugou that playlist you were asking about

Kiri u da bomb katsuki

Bakugou katsuki huh?

Bakugou getting cocky I see

Kiri I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???

Kiri ur one of my closest pals

Kiri I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro

Bakugou I do like it more than bro

Bakugou eijirou

Bakugou I guess ur not terrible

Eijirou ????

Eijirou did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??

Eijirou who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?

Bakugou fuck you

Bakugou just fuck you

Eijirou <3 <3 <3

  Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.

The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.

It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.

When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.

He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”

Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”

“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“

“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”

“Never in a million years.”

They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.

His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.

“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”

Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.

“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.

“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.

“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”

Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.

“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.

“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.

“Hey Kats?”

“What?”

“Are we dating?”

Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”

“HEY!”

Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.

“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”

Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.

“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.

When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.

“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”

Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”

Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”

He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”

Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.

“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.

Because he does know.

He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.

And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.

Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.

  It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.

“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.

The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”

They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.

“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”

Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.

It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.

It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.

It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.

Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.

And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.

Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.

  “How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”

Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.

“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”

Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”

Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”

Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.

They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.

“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”

And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.

“Bakugo-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”

Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.

“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.

That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.

  Eiji hiiiiiiiiiiii

Bakugou I swear to god Ei

Bakugou if you’re late for our first date I will find you

Eiji and give me a kiss? :*

Bakugou I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management

Bakugou so fuck off

Eiji still so mean to me ☹

Eiji I want that kiss tho

Eiji so ill be ready

Eiji promise

Bakugou good

Eiji  <3

Bakugou <3

Eiji :D :D :D :D :D :D

Eiji YOU LIKE ME ENOUGH TO SEND EMOJIS HU H <3333

Bakugou it will never happen again

Bakugou so fuck right off

Eiji :”D

Bakugou im outside

Eiji be right there

Eiji <3  

[imnotasuperhero]

I would lie and say you’re not in my mind.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Type: Angst.

Summary: Reader finds herself alone, with no explanation as to where Wanda went. And life without her was a true nightmare she could only scape with not-so-nice coping mechanisms.

Wordcount: 2644

Warnings: Drug abuse, one suicidal thought and depression.

A/N: This is my submission for @jbbarnesnnoble writing challenge! I’m so sorry for the delay. Life and work got in the middle, leaving me drained to get some actual writing done. You can search this and other works with the tag #JBBNNMHAMChallenge which deals with different types of mental healt, as to raise awarenes about it.

A/N 2: Since it’s inspired in real events, I decided to twist this and give it a happy ending. People need to know there is hope. No matter how hard life becomes, you’ve got this and you shouldn’t suffer alone. Fight your fear and seek for help. I promise, life is worth living.

A huge than you to @marvelfansince08love for enduring her patience with my rants and mini meltdown about this monster. I could never thank you enough for puting up with my dumb ass, boo. I owe you a lot! <3

If you guys want more, I might have a plot for some kind of spin-off for this story. Just let me know. Also, criticism is welcomed.

"Miss Stark," one of the executives called your attention. "Your nose is bleeding."

Automatically, your fingers found your nose and yup, it was happening. Fucking hell.

Excusing yourself, you left the conference room with rapid steps to the closest bathroom, dismissing whoever you crossed on your way. You weren't new to this, after all.

Once you got the bleeding under control, you inspected yourself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was nothing like your old self. The circles under the eyes needed much more concealing and your smiles were forced. But at least you picked a black blouse today, which it'll do until you got a chance to go back home and change.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Julia asked sheepishly.

"No. I'm capable of handling the rest of the day," you mumbled as you finished the last touches to your make-up.

"Mr. Stark could find-"

"Mr. Stark will find out shit," you cut your assistant. "This is just a sneeze that caused a vein to pop. Understood?" You could see how the woman in front of you shivered slightly and you almost laugh at it. You've become so pity.

"Y-yes, Miss. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No." You inspected yourself in the mirror once again before walking out. "Go over the rest of my day and make sure you send the informs to Stewart."

Fortunately, the day progressed smoothly with very few bumps. And none of them were about you, so you took it as a victory.

Kicking your high heels after closing the door behind you, you started to strip while walking towards the bathroom. The weekend was finally here, which meant you could wind out and enjoy your own company. After the latest events on Beto's, you made sure to lay low for a while. You didn't need another clingy bitch hanging from you all the time. You were just a gal wanting to have some release. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the middle of your calming bath, the sharp razor you kept for emergencies caught your eyes. 'God, it'd be so easy.' You thought to yourself. Just a little line in the right place would do it. The consuming pain would disappear and you'd be free. Hell, maybe you'd find her again in the afterlife.

Before you could continue the line of thoughts, your phone rang with your dad's personalized ringtone. Something you made sure of for when you were doing not-so-nice activities.

"Hey, dad." You absentmindedly sank deeper in the tub. The bubbly water covering up to under your jaw.

"Hi, Peanut." Tony's voice soothed your damaged soul the littlest bit. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answered nonchalantly. Lying has become second nature by now. "Living the life. How are you guys?"

"That's what I called you about. Pepper and I want you to come to spend the weekend here. We barely see you outside work so we thought it'd be nice to take advantage of the long weekend. Pleeeeaaase? With a cherry on top?" He finished in a child's voice and you felt your heart squeeze itself.

Truth was, you were tired of lying all the time. You were tired of faking and saying you were okay when you weren't.

"Okay," you sighed. 

"Yay!" Yup, he was a child. "We'll get your room ready. We'll have your favorite."

You didn't know the exact moment you started crying, your dad going a mile a minute talking about his latest invention and how he'd love for you to help him figure out the last touches.

Hanging up, you finally let out the awaiting sobs. Memories of an easier -and happier- time plaguing your mind, making it harder and harder to breathe. Life without her sucked balls.

After drying yourself and throwing on a fresh pair of pajamas, you quickly fixed your bag for the weekend, knowing fully well you'll wake up with just the right spare time before you had to leave for your dad's.

The next morning, you woke up before your alarm went off, which would be fine if it weren't for Wanda appearing in your dreams. Promises of a better life and reaching milestones together, fanning the painful fire in your heart.

Walking to your stash, you retrieved the white powder, forming three consecutive lines on your nightstand. A small straw between your fingers ready to be used. You wouldn't be able to consume when you were at your dad's, so you better took your chance before it was too late. Odin knew you needed the boost.

Stopping at a random café a few blocks from your home, you quickly got yourself a black coffee and a muffin before hitting the pedal once again, changing the playlist to something more upbeat. 

Soon enough, your mind drifted to the impromptu road trips you'd do with Wanda. Sometimes even a week-long trip. Just the two of you apart from the chaos of your lives. 

Out on the road, it was only laughs, music, and fast food with the occasional make-out sessions. God, if you could, you'd live in the past forever. 

Stepping out of your car, you couldn't help the smile that broke your face. Working in the same place as your dad didn't mean you've got to see him every day. And being honest, you were happy he offered you scape from her curse.

"Hi, dad." You answered once you reached him, returning his hug. And boy, didn't you felt safe in those strong arms. They never failed to soothe you.

After what seemed like hours of walking around your dad's property, you and Pepper came back to the house ready for a refreshing iced tea. But any trace of a nice calming bath dissipated away when you say your dad standing in the middle of the living room, his face stoic.

"What's this?" The quietness of his voice freezing your blood.

"I'm waiting, Y/N." 

You cringed at your dad's voice. The disappointment showing in his eyes made you regret not checking before you grabbed a random bag for this trip.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is not what I think it is," he begged, showing you and Pepper the almost empty baggy between his fingers. And you ignored him. He already knew the truth, after all. "Say it," he growled.

"So the bleeding nose-"

"Screw you," you muttered, cutting Pepper mid-sentence.

"Hey! That's no way to talk to her,"

"You know what?" You walked to your dad, looking up to his eyes. "Yes, I'm an addict. Good job, Sherlock. Now you can get rid of me as you did with my mom. After all, you never wanted me in the first place, so why should it matter." You snapped with burning tears in your eyes. "There's no need to keep faking it anymore." You walked away, leaving them mouth agape, trying to process your words.

Plopping down on your bed, you couldn't help the feeling of failure igniting inside you. The tears in your eyes burning your eyes as they appeared, flowing down your cheeks as the sadness and emptiness became just too much to handle.

You didn't remember when was the last time you were genuinely happy. And it sucked that it depended on someone. It sucked and you despised it more than anything. But then again, Wanda was everything you'd need to live in this world. Always positive, with a smile so bright that could light up the darkest room. Her eyes? God, you loved losing yourself in those green orbs of hers in the afterglow. And now you had to live without all these little things that made you happy. All the little moments of joy were gone, tuning you into this sack of bones and flesh, with no expectations for life.

It wasn't till much later that night that you left your room, after ignoring your dad's callings.

Padding your way to the bar, you served yourself a whiskey. The burning on your troat a welcomed feeling. Your mind going back to her, as it was the normalcy since she dusted away, leaving you with thousands of questions and a hole in your heart that you knew well you could never fill again. How could you, when you knew she was it? how could you even try to patch it up, when you knew there was no one else like her?

One whiskey turned into 5 and you didn't know when you started to cry, considering you thought there were no tears left after all these years. But the strong hand on your shoulder made you snap from your pity party, hurriedly drying your tears. Crying was for the weak, and boy were you weak.

"I'm sorry," you drowned the last of your drink before looking up, mustering the best stoic face you could.

"You don't need to fake around me, Peanut. We're family," your dad poured you another drink as he got one himself. 

"Look, what happened with your mother has nothing to do with you." He continued once he sat beside you. "And I would never leave you alone, Y/N. No matter how many headaches you give me." He joked but composed himself when you didn't react to it. "I- Pepper is pregnant. And we really want you in the baby's life. But.. Look, if there was a way to bring her back, I would. In a heartbeat. But Y/N, you have to understand, she wouldn't like this version of you. If not for yourself, do it for us,"

You wanted to speak, you wanted to answer him. But the lump in your throat was too big to swallow and the knife in your heart twisted when you saw your dad's eyes tearing up. And fuck did it hurt. To see him cry -for the first time- pained you like hell. And knowing you were the cause of those tears made you feel like you were the worst person alive. 

"I-," you paused to gather your bearings, but your dad beat you to it.

"I know, Peanut," his arms surrounded you in that way that only him could.

"I promise you," he continued once you broke away. "One day, it will get easier. Those feelings will never fully go away, but it will get easier." He dried your tear-stained cheeks softly. "You are not alone. And she'll always be with you,"

 And despite the grief eating you from the inside, you knew you had to live. For them. For her.

The next few months had been a true rollercoaster. You didn't know the abstinence would affect you so badly. And while others would have it much worse, you couldn't help the change of moods and the few tears you caused to those around you. Not to mention, the significant drop in your moods. But you also knew better. You've kept your word, and you hadn't touched it again. 

Under Natasha's supervision, you got rid of every secret stash you had at both, your apartment and your office, and you deleted the number of your dealer. And even if sometimes it seemed like hell would manifest itself as Nat was your watcher, you couldn't be more glad because, admittedly, the woman had balls and she did knew how to bribe you, to the point that you'd even quit drinking even if it was more of a social addiction, in your case. That, mixed with Natasha's friendship and support -as well as those around you- and the birth of Morgan, your little sister had you believing once more, even if you knew you'd never get to be the same person you once were. 

The little bundle of joy had come to this world with a few rays of sunshine for you, finally opening your eyes and making you realize that there was hope. Even if you never saw her again, life was worth living and you'd live it for her at your best capacity. 

So when Pepper asked you to babysit Morgan for a few days, considering she couldn't bring a 2 months old baby with her, you accepted in a heartbeat.

But as you were awoken by a fussing Morgan, after an eventful night in which you barely slept, you realized this might've not been your brightest idea.

Inhaling deeply, you got up and walked to her room, picking her up from her crib and rocking her as you made your way to the kitchen. Babies were a fucking clock. Which only served to add to your decision of never having kids. 

If you were on the verge of tears most of the time, wishing deeply for her parents to come back so you could have time for yourself, you knew you'd be mental if you had to live through this for the rest of your life.

Your ears catching the front door opening made you stop mid singing, turning around as you walked to the hushed words as you feed a calmed down Morgan just to stop dead in your tracks when you saw her. The only reason you stood still, was the baby in your arms. 

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for a sign that this was just a dream. That the image of your girlfriend was just a projection of your mind, like so many other times before during these 5 years since she disappeared from your arms. But the silence surrounding you all and 8 pairs of eyes inspecting you made you realize that this wasn't a dream.

The cries of Morgan took you all from your reverie and soon, Pepper was by your side, taking the baby from your arms before kissing the top of your head, something she always did whenever you felt unsettled.

"Peanut-"

"Is she real?" You questioned as you scrutinized a fidgety Wanda, who stood by the door, ready to run away if needed.

Natasha could sense your turmoil growing with every single second that passed and soon enough you felt a strong pair of arms supporting you, ready to catch you if you fell.

"She's here, Maliska. We brought her back," she spoke quietly, making sure you understood her words.

The wild thoughts on your mind got you walking towards her. The need to touch her and prove yourself that she was back, got your fingers itching. You could feel the blood running in your ears and you shaking steps as you got closer to who you thought was gone forever, leaving you empty and moving through life like a zombie.

The choke that broke through you when your hand cupped her cheek got you smiling as tears rolled down with every erratic thump of your heart.

"You're here," you whispered, afraid of breaking the spell you've found yourself into. 

But you couldn't stay in that thought for long because an intimately familiar pair of arms surrounded you as Wanda threw yourself at you, hiding her face on the crook of your neck.

Feeling her hot breath against your skin was all you needed to finally give in and hold her with all you had, knowing that she was here; with you.

You didn't know how long you both stood there, holding each other and basking in the calmness that surrounded you. All your previous tormenting thoughts dissipated in that exact moment. Wanda was back and you found the hole in your heart start to fill itself.

"Hi, Printsessa," Wanda murmured against your neck, kissing her way up to your jaw, peppering your face with kisses before she finally kissed your lips. And boy, did your knees trembled.

After 5 long years, the lips you've got used to kissing whenever you pleased were once against yours, igniting all the love and hope and good things you got to feel once upon a time.

You can find the continuation, here (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @wannabe-fic-reader @natasha-danvers @jumbojamba47 @rooskaya-yelena @sananabdliw @aaron-despair @username23345 @nate-the-dreamer @higherfurther-romanova

[h-sleepingirl]

Scenes from a Hypnotic Skype Call 4/22/20

I text him in the morning like I always do, before I go back to sleep for a little while. He texts back, “Call at noon?” and I get so happy despite not really being awake, replying eagerly before I catch my last hour.

I have been feeling everything incredibly intensely for the past few days. We have been so on. Our long weekend call was so amazing. Afterwards I was completely fucked. The next day I was fucked. The day after that I was fucked. And the day after…

We have talked so much about the potential for truly long-term trance. Days. Waking up into hypnosis in the morning. I never really believed it would be possible without us being in the same place.

But I spent Sunday dumb because he took advantage of me feeling unwell. Monday we had a call. Tuesday afternoon I realized I had been in trance all day.

Now Wednesday. I wasn’t sure in the morning if I was in trance or not. But god, was I excited and needy for him.

We get on and I see myself on the little screen and how bouncy I look, hear how squeaky I sound. Our babble is stupid and flirty and inane. But watching myself, seeing the way I look and hearing the stupid desperation in my voice makes me feel something, like I’m in over my head.

“I keep having this feeling, like, are you proud, are you happy about what you’ve done to this girl?” I ask, and it’s thin, and it feels like I’ve started on this small thread that I have to unravel.

He gives me a big smile and a thumbs up. “Should I not be?” he asks, so high-spirited, reducing my little outburst.

“I feel like you should be a little… sad…”

...Because you’re changing her. Because you’re destroying her original personality...

“Why should I be sad?”

The energy has shifted. This chat is a farce. I know it. But I’m too deep into it, feel a strange confidence that is like there is nothing I have left to lose.

“You’re ruining me,” I say, plainly, almost pleading. “Really…”

It’s a pornographic conversation. Straight out of a story. I feel like a character, like text on a page, but I can’t stop it. I remember other moments like this, a date where I whispered, ‘You’re changing me…’ The way he responded…

“Yeah? And I should be sad about that?” His voice has started lilting, gotten softer, acknowledging the way my eyes have softened.

All I can do is make a tiny noise. I’m slipping…

-- He’s trancing me hard and my consciousness truly feels like it’s slipping away, I’m losing myself, vision swimming, body swaying, can’t express the way that I really feel like I’m going away, really…

I realize that I’ve lost my ability to understand the words he’s saying, I really have no idea… Not suggested, just spontaneous, I feel so confused and at the same time I can’t bring myself to exert any effort to change it. This has been happening more and more often, to varying degrees… It feels futile... Too far gone. So far gone. His words wash over me and all I can do is sink into them and sink into the knowledge that I don’t have enough brain left anymore, like a young child, like an animal.

He wakes me up and I have no idea how long it’s been, no idea what he did to me.

“I really, really couldn’t understand you,” I breathe, and I’m shaking with the force of that. I’m still in trance.

“Yeah?” he asks quietly.

He keeps trancing me, and I keep not being able to comprehend it.

--

He wakes me up. All I can do is blink dumbly at him, burning with obsession, but completely subdued by thick trance, thick pleasure and surrender.

“So is that kind of the topic?” he asks, and his voice is so sweet, dangerously, venomously sweet. “The thing that’s been happening, the feeling of being perpetually caught in this trap, that you walked into like a fucking moron?”

My throat tightens as I try not to cry out in delicious anguish.

--

“Do you remember when you first noticed that I was making it harder for you to understand what I was doing to you?”

“Not exactly,” I whisper. “But I remember the first time I thought that…”

“Yeah,” he says. “And it’s kind of sad, right? You don’t like that you’re not able to analyze it anymore?”

I nod, pained.

“That’s why we record the calls, right?” he says. “To give you some sense that there’s something you can go back to later?”

I’m holding my breath.

“But then what happens when you listen back?” Patronizing. Knowing.

I make a horrible little high-pitched noise.

I go away when I listen back. It doesn’t matter. I’ve tried time and time again, listening and helplessly going into trance, sometimes able to catch things, sometimes they slip away… My memory and my intelligence in this so faulty…

“That’s right,” he says. “It’s awful. Because that was something I took away from you.”

My body tenses hard in the terrible pleasure of that and I remember again my favorite date and the long interrogation of what he could take away from me permanently… Realizing that this is it, that this is a thing that he found that he could, that he kept his promise… How long it took me…

--

“Be porn,” he says, turning away from my screen and focusing on his computer. “I have to do some work.”

My brain short-circuits. I blank out. My body begins moving automatically, far more graceful and erotic than I ever can acheive consciously, my hands delicately moving across my body, fingers over my collarbones, teasing at the front of my shirt. My shoulders cock seductively. I am in control of none of it, but find what’s left of me just observing helplessly what I look like on the screen, and extraordinarily focused on him, absolutely needing him to respond to me, but at the same time having an infinite patience until he does.

He’s busy typing for a moment as I start teasing my tits, pulling at my shirt, and he looks over, and just stops and stares.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he says, suddenly ragged, and I know immediately there is no pretense, no show for me, I can hear and see so clearly the way I’m affecting him, so genuine. His response is the hottest thing in the world to me, even as my vision comes in and out, and I feel myself smile, bring a finger to my lips and suck obscenely on it.

I never would be able to do this normally. Not like this, not without shame.

He wrenches his vision away from me to turn back to work, and I feel nothing, no disappointment, no decay in eroticism. I am just porn on his screen. I am just here to get him off. It is my entire purpose and I keep performing even when he is not looking.

I suck two fingers this time, feeling the drool start leaking just a little bit out of my lips, making perverse suction noises, and I notice that that makes him look over at me, and feel myself learning that.

He looks like he is in trance watching me. I love that face, it gets me off so much, and it has been so long… I feel my body adjust with that little thought, how to make my motions more hypnotic, more alluring. I am dynamic, learning porn, programmed for so long to turn him on and hyperfocused on becoming even more totally perfect in every single moment. It uses all of my conscious knowledge to do it.

I feel completely disconnected from my body. I want to stare at the image of myself to see what I look like but I can’t, really. Sometimes I glance. But I imagine she looks like a dolly, totally blank-eyed and docile even as she moves like a seductress. It is impossibly good.

The cycle repeats, over and over, him turning to look, the shift of his feedback, and me being perfectly distracting until he wins the struggle and can look away. He is so, so turned on, it is completely palpable to me, more important than anything in the world.

Sometimes the sucking blanks me out. I’ve been so conditioned for so long to go away when I have fingers in my mouth. It is purely instinct, purely muscle memory. (Now, I think of Pavlovian conditioning and get upset that I didn’t talk about this idea of when a conditioned behavior approaches the same level of base responsiveness as unconditioned behavior...) But I know I must look immensely dumb, immensely mindfucked, vision just nonsubstantial and tongue moving rhythmically.

He loves it. I could talk about it for pages and pages, the back and forth, the true exchange of energy and power that happens in such a casual way, over miles and miles apart. For me, I exist only as a creature of the moment, seconds ago forgotten so easily. At one point, he shifts his focus entirely on me and trances me hard after he pulls himself out of trance.

Finally, he snaps, and it is so jarring, far too instant, far too different than the bliss object that I was.

I breathe heavily. I feel broken and I feel thrilled, like we just did something otherworldly and precious.

He looks about as fucked as I do.

The first thing I am able to say, shaken, but excited, is, “How long was that? Do you know?”

He takes my request seriously. “I can look,” he says. “...Just about ten minutes.”

I look back on the past ten minutes in my memory and find a blur of sexuality, impenetrable when I poke at it.

“Oh, my god.”

We talk about it for a long while.

--

@hypnokinkwithmrdream

[kpop-cakepops]

Help// Johnny Seo

Anonymous asked:

“heyyy! can i make a request? Since i love suffering can i ask for some heavy angst with Johnny but with a happy ending since my heart is still weak? I'll love you forever if you make it possible💕”

(I had to repost this this way because for some reason the post couldn’t be found when I searched it on the search bar.)

word count: 2,864

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship (mental/emotional a*use), mentions of drug and alcohol a*use, attempted su*cide.

SPECIAL NOTE: If you are someone that is in need of instant help or that is battling su*cidal thoughts or abuse, here are some resources that might be of help. You are loved.(( Domestic violence crisis hotlines  Su*cide prevention Crisis Centers ))

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was complicated, to say the least.

Whatever type of bond you'd managed to concoct with Johnny Seo was twisted and cryptic and muddy and unlabeled. You found yourself often spending nights tangled in a spiral of lust, sweat and limbs with him, only to wake up the next morning and find him gone.

Uncertain.

If you had to describe Johnny with one word only, you'd choose uncertain. One moment he was by your side, the other he was gone. One moment he wanted to hold you and tell you about his dreams of making it big, the other he was in your face yelling and screaming rabid hell your way... just as he was doing right at that moment.

"MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T WHORING YOURSELF OUT TO JUST ANY DUDE THAT LOOKS YOUR WAY, MAYBE I WOULDN'T BE THIS MAD!" he screamed.

You, however, only walked past him. A numb expression plastered on your face.

Used to it.

"He offered to buy me a drink and I accepted. Get the fuck over yourself." You grumbled as you flopped on your couch and started to work at the strap of your heels.

"I don't think you're understanding here. I don't  like it when people look at or touch what's mine." He fumed. His volume was lower, but the anger and bite were still there, almost like he wanted to hurt you with his words.

He did.

"You're so unfair." You let out as you stood up, your height now dwarfed by his due to your lack of heels. "Do you have any fucking idea how I felt when  I saw you dancing with all those girls?! ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, JOHNNY."

He held onto your wrist stopping you from stomping away from him. "Why, were you jealous?" He asked with a raised brow looking down at you provokingly.

"No... no I wasn't jealous but I did wonder why I had to put up with someone like you on my fucking birthday. I wondered why I keep wasting my time here when I could be with someone that will take me seriously. Someone that only has eyes for ME and who would be okay with just laying in bed with me and hold me-" you choked up unable to continue.

It was always the same. He'd yell, you'd yell back, he'd poke and prod at you until you cried. A cycle.

You shoved past him and stomped into your bathroom ready to shower and praying he'd be gone by the time you got out. You weren't exactly lucky....

By the time you stepped out of the bathroom you found Johnny sat on the ground, his back pressed to the side of your bed. "I'm sorry..." he mumbled barely audibly.

You ignored him and stepped up to your dresser. Your reflection only causing a tear to roll down your cheek as you untangled your hair. You really wondered when your reflection had become something you hated.

Warm hands wrapped around you from behind. Johnny's chin now resting on your shoulder. "I'm sorry... I really am sorry that I'm this fucked up. I'm sorry."

You remained silent as you stared at both of you in your mirror. It seemed that the 2 people you'd been when you met 2 years before had disappeared. "Johnny... what are we going to do?" You finally ask.

His eyes meet yours on the mirror and you could tell he's confused. "What?"

"In the future. What do you want? Who do you want to be?" You pried his hands from your body and turned so you were facing him with your arms crossed.

He was scared.

"I don't  know." He admitted. "What do you want?"

"I want to fall in love" you admitted looking at the ground. "I want to fall in love, I want to get married... I want to have a family."

Something in your words caused Johnny to lose his breath. "What does that mean?" He asked.

"It means that I'm scared, John. I'm scared that I'm gonna be stuck being in love with you all by myself for the rest of my life. I'm scared that I'm gonna be stuck chasing after you all my life. I don't want that." You finally let out.

Johnny didn't like it when you talked that way. It scared the daylights out of him to hear you talk about commitment and a family. Why couldn't life be simple? Why couldn't love be easy?

"I..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. He knew he loved you. He knew he wanted you to be with him forever. You were, after all, the reason he was sane and sober. Yet to you, his lack of words meant he didn't.

"You understand that I can't do this forever right?" You finally asked. He wasn't looking at you, his hands were clasped to his sides and his eyes locked on the ground. You waited for him to say something, anything to stop you from doing what you were about to.

"Johnny?" You asked almost pleading him to speak.

He didn't.

"I think you should go." You spoke again. He visibly flinched at that. His eyes finally snapping up to meet your teary ones. "This isn't going to work. I don't have the strength nor the patience to do this anymore. You can pick up your things some other day, but for now please just go"

"Y/N-"

"Go." You groaned not wanting to give in. You knew that if you let him talk he'd somehow convince you to not end things the way you were.

So he left and didn't return. Johnny had gotten the message very clearly. You didn't want to see or hear from him and he tried to understand.... but why was his heart hurting as much as it did. Why were people asking him if he was okay? Why was it that whenever he fucked some random girl in a bathroom stall of whatever musty club he'd stumbled into, all he could think of was you?

Why would he cry?

It would stop at some point, right? He'd stop hurting and crying over you someday, right?

Right. He stopped.

He wasn't sure what scared him most, the previous pain of not seeing you or the fact that he was no longer feeling anything at all. The fact that he was numb all the time and every single emotion he showed was a half-assed reflection of what his friends and the people around him were feeling... yet none of that was real, none of those feelings were his. Johnny couldn't even pinpoint the last time he'd genuinely laughed in the past 4 months... the 4 months he'd spent away from you.

Falling down a spiral of old bad habits is exactly what Johnny found himself doing. Medicating and drinking until he was hallucinating about you, it was the only way he could feel what he used to feel. It was the only way he could see you.

It's also how he found himself calling you in the middle of the night.

"Hello?" You groaned.

"Why do we have to have a label?" He asked, voice slurred. "Why can't we just continue to say we're just friends? Why do we have to complicate shit so much? No one labels shit nowadays, why do we have to be different?"

"Johnny?" You asked. The sleep was gone out of your voice as soon as you realized the state he was in.

"If you want to hear it so bad, then yes. I love you. I fucking love you" he exclaimed into the phone. "At first I just wanted us to fuck but-"

"John, you're drunk. Where are you?" You snapped already putting on pants to go look for him.

"Let me fucking finish!" He yelled causing you to freeze on the other end of the line. "At first I just wanted us to fuck. You were hot and you were fine with it... but then suddenly, I stopped medicating and you gave me the spare key to your house, I was spending nights at your place talking to you about my stupid fucking dreams..."

He stopped talking and only then did you realize you were crying. You were already on your way to his apartment which was only 2 blocks from your complex. "Johnny?"

No answer.

A sense of panic invaded your senses and you started to run the rest of the way to his place hanging up the phone you found his spare key almost immediately above the door frame. Your panicked form stumbled into the dark apartment and towards his bedroom. The stench of alcohol took over the entire place, almost as if he'd purposely filled every crevice of his apartment with liquor.

"John?!" You called.

There was no answer but the soft sniffles coming from his bedroom had you instantly running his way. Sure enough, there he was, resting against a corner of the dim lit room. His knees were up to his chin and his arms were splayed to his sides with his phone laying  several feet away from him.

"Shit" you mumbled and walked up to him. "Johnny. Hey, can you hear me?" You asked as you took his face into your hands. He was running a fever.

"Y/N. You have to run away. Love isn't shit. Everyone leaves in the end, Y/N you need to run before you end up like everyone else" he sobs.

A tight knot forms in your throat as you hear him cry. It was a first and you hated it. You hated it to no end. "Johnny, you're running a fever. How much did you drink?" You ask trying your best not to cry. If you cried you'd lose it and what Johnny needed was help, not another reason to feel bad.

The intoxicated man pointed at the splay of bottles across from him and you cursed internally when you spotted what seemed like an empty xanax bottle next to the many bottles of liquor. "Oh god... oh my god. Oh God, did you take that?! Johnny did you take the xanax with the alcohol?" You wanted to scream.

You needed to take him to the hospital.. Your shaky hands reached for your phone and you instantly called 911 to get an ambulance to his place as soon as possible.

Everything that followed happened as if in slow motion. There were paramedics and an ambulance, people asking you questions, but you were too shaken up to even form a proper sentence.

When you got to the hospital you called Taeyong, Johnny's best friend. "Y/N!!-"

You cut him off instantly, "Tae, Johnny was medicated and drunk. I don't know how much he took but he's running a fever. I'm freaking out please come to the hospital. Taeyong I'm scared." you cried.

"What do you-"

"ASK QUESTIONS LATER TAEYONG, I NEED YOU TO PLEASE COME TO THE HOSPITAL!" you yelled still on the brink of having a mental breakdown.

Almost two hours had passed and you found yourself still sat in the emergency waiting room, your hair unmade as you waited next to Taeyong for the doctor to come out and tell you what room Johnny would be moved to. You had cried yourself dry by then, Taeyong's hand rubbing up and down your back to calm you down until you were both silent.

"Why did you go see him?" He asked.

"He called me... he didn't sound okay"

"When has Johnny ever been okay?" Taeyong countered.

You didn't answer because you knew he was right, Johnny had never been okay. Not before you, not with you and most definitely not after you. You used to think that you were doing him good by letting him depend on you for his well-being... and yet there you were waiting for him to finish getting his stomach pumped or suctioned whatever they did in cases like this.

"I thought I was helping him" you mumbled.

"Johnny needs professional help, Y/N. We can't help him alone, you can't help him alone. Look where we are. What would have happened had he not called you?" Taeyong snapped.

You could feel his angry gaze on you and you knew he had every right to be angry. Everyone around you both had warned you, everyone had asked you to be careful... but you both chose to go your own toxic way. You called it 'loving intensely' when in reality you were both so in love that you didn't know how to properly show it, instead playing a game of cat and mouse. Chasing, capturing, yelling, fucking, apologizing, never truly valuing the feelings you two really felt for each other... why? Because it wasn't cool? Because other people told you that love wasn't a real thing? Because labels were fucking stupid and both your parents were divorced and bitter?

"I know." You whimpered.

"John Seo?"

You almost sprinted towards the nurse as he called out Johnny's name. "That's us."

"The patient is stable. Had you come in an hour later we wouldn't have run into the luck we did today. He's going to be moved to an observation unit shortly. Just go to the lobby and they'll give you the number." The nurse looked at you sternly as he spoke. "And miss... if you and your boyfriend are seeking help, we have many programs we can recommend. We wouldn't ever want to see a young man like that lost to an addiction."

You looked over at Taeyong who was staring back at you knowingly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Johnny woke up only a few hours later, you were seated right beside his bed. Your head resting on the edge of the soft bedding, eyes closed and breath shallow. You were asleep.

Johnny's eyes took in his surroundings. His daze dissipating and final realization coming to him upon hearing the light beeping of the heart monitor beside him as well as the slight tightness of the IV stuck to his arm. His head fell back into his pillow and he wanted to scream.

Your eyes opened instinctively at the slight movement. "John?"

He looked down at you and met your eyes for the first time in 4 months. To say he felt suddenly disarmed would be an understatement. He wanted to rip that IV out of his arm and drop to his knees in front of you. Beg for your forgiveness. Tell you that he... loves you.

"You almost..." you trailed off. How were you supposed to bring it up? There was a tight knot in your throat and a horrible twisting of your stomach.

"I know" he rasped out, taking you by surprise. Your worried eyes moved to meet his teary ones. "I know because I was planning to go"

It was like all air had been suddenly knocked from you. "y-you mean... that was supposed to be goodbye?" you asked.

He stayed silent for a few seconds. "It was. Then I heard you screaming my name and I realized that I didn't want it to be. I realized I didn't want to die."

You weren't breathing. How could he... how could he want to end it all? How could he be so willing to throw his life away. Your throat was so tight as you bit back sobs. How could you have failed him this bad? "Johnny, I love you," you murmured as you felt his large hand take yours. "I'm so sorry, Johnny. I don't want you to die. I want you to live. I want you to be okay. I want us to be okay."

"Can we be okay? Haven't we done too much?" he asked shutting his eyes. He wasn't sure if he was tired, or if he just couldn't bear to look at the dark circles under your eyes. Probably caused by him.

"We've done too much of the wrong things and not enough of the right ones, Johnny... I want us to get better. We need help." You uttered. "Let's get help. You and me, professional help. They have so many programs, so many rehab centers to help people like us."

He didn't say anything to that. Johnny knew he needed the help, but he wasn't sure his ego would ever allow him to get the help he needed, especially if it meant being away from you again... Yet one look at your tired form did it for him. One look at you triggered the dark memories of the previous night. The way you cried by his drugged up, almost dead body. He remembered how much he wanted to live. He remembered the future he saw slipping through his fingers when he thought he'd be gone.

"Okay"

You looked up at him, he was avoiding your gaze, but something deep inside told you he was being serious.

"Let's get help... let's get better... and when we do, let's properly meet again, and give that future you want- no, that future we want a shot," he answered giving your hand a squeeze.

Relief invaded your entire being, a sigh of relief leaving your lips unconsciously. "Okay... we'll give it as many shots as you want."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SPECIAL NOTE: If you are someone that is in need of instant help or that is battling su*cidal thoughts or abuse, here are some resources that might be of help. You are loved.(( Domestic violence crisis hotlines  Su*cide prevention Crisis Centers ))

[atomicpeache]

19, 15 and 10 for the Zutara asks :)

10. Do you have any other A:TLA ships?

Sukka is a very close second to Zutara, i love them so much!

I also really like Mailee, I just feel like they would be so cute together, and more recently I've started shipping Taang. They just work so well together and balance each other out so well.

I also love Yuetara! Oh and Bakoda. Those dads have my whole entire heart.

15. What do you think would have happened if Katara and Zuko hadn’t been interrupted in the Catacombs?

Hmmm... this is tricky. I think if they'd been there together for a couple more hours, Katara would've ended up healing him eventually (or trying), but it would've taken some time to get to that point.

I think Zuko would initially have agreed to it, and then he would've hesitated and stopped her. He is still very conflicted about his scar and whether he deserved it or not, and, by extension, whether he still wants or deserves his father's love and approval. That is, after all, why he ends up betraying her in canon.

So he hesitates, as she's about to start the process, and turns away. She gently presses him and asks him what's wrong. And he sees the look of genuine concern and patience on her face, and he's shocked at the amount of support his enemy is showing him. So he talks. He tells her a little about how he got his scar, no details, but gives her the gist. He tells her about his banishment, and his quest to hunt the avatar, and the whole time he's thinking, "why the hell am i telling her all this? I don't even know her." And Katara listens and empathizes as she did with Jet, and Haru, and Aang, and all the others, and she is horrified on his behalf.

She tells him, "it's not your fault."

And he looks at her like she's lost it because "what do you mean it's not my fault, i did horrible things to you and your friends."

And so she clarifies, "it's not your fault for getting that scar. No 13 year old boy should have to go through that."

And they sit in silence for a long time. Zuko ponders what she has said, compares it with all of iroh's comforting and supportive words over the years, and then contrasting them with ozai's words, with azula's. Katara sits in her own thoughts, trying to reconcile the zuko sitting before her with the spoiled prince she's fought countless times, and she can hardly believe they're the same person.

Finally, zuko concedes. So katara takes the spirit water out of its vial and she tries to heal him.

Nothing happens. The special properties of the spirit water have been used up, but zuko's scar is still there. When he realizes this, he jerks away from her and sits down.

"I'm sorry, Zuko."

"It doesn't matter," he snaps back, a hint of his old self, but it's half-hearted. "It was a stupid idea anyway." He falls silent, glaring at the ground, cursing himself inwardly.

Katara understands that he doesn't want to talk anymore. She doesn't really know what she would say anyway. She sits down on the other side of the cave, and stares at the vial of spirit water, wondering if she's just made a huge mistake.

There's a long stretch of silence again.

And then, "Thank you, Katara."

Katara just smiles.

When Iroh and Aang find them later, they are still sitting on opposite sides of the cave, but they are facing each other.

And when Zuko comes to his crossroads of destiny, he can't bring himself to betray Katara, or his uncle, the way he does in canon. When Iroh talks to him after Katara leaves with Aang, and before Azula arrives, Zuko remembers what Katara said, about how it wasn't his fault. So even though he still doesn't quite believe it, when Azula shows up with her offer to bring him back to their father as a hero, he can't quite bring himself to believe that either. He cannot prove to himself, beyond a reasonable doubt, that his father will accept him, now that even his (former?)enemy has expressed concern for his situation.

So he chooses his uncle, and helps the Gaang.

I have way more thoughts on this but this is already way too long than it ever needed to be, so i apologize lol.

TL;DR Zuko would have agreed to being healed, it wouldn't have worked, but he still would have switched sides, to some extent.

19. What do you think would have happened if A:TLA got a Book 4?

Part of me thinks it would've just been the plot of the comics, like the Promise and the Search, but with the Ehaszs in the writer's room it probably would've looked a little different.

For example, the characters would've been... in character. We would've gotten to see Zuko struggle with becoming Fire Lord and stabilizing the country, and a lot of that would've involved him struggling with the baggage of his ancestors, and his own issues with not wanting to become like his father, but i think that, unlike in the comics, the Gaang would've helped support him. I'm not even going to get into what they did to Katara in the comics... i pretend i do not see.

I've heard rumours that, had a fourth season occurred, Aang would've found a community of descendents of Air Nomads in the Fire Nation. I have no idea how much truth there is to this notion, but I'm just gonna roll with it.

So because Aang and Zuko are deutarogonists of the story, I'm imagining that, along with their mutual efforts to balance the world as Fire Lord and Avatar, Zuko's search for his mother and Aang's search for the remnants of his people would be tied together as the main sort of overarching plot of the season.

There are so many interesting things to be done with this: Aang would have to properly face the trauma of the genocide of the Air Nomads, without the tight deadline of the Comet as a distraction; Zuko would be grappling with his fear of becoming like his father, while being piled on with the stress of being the leader of a divided and wartorn country, while also desperate to find out what happened to his mother; I feel like a lot of the "filler" episodes would be about Aang and the gaang dealing with on-the-ground type rebuilding and peacemaking.

As for the rest of the gaang (and this has been pulled straight out of my ass - it's just stuff I would want to happen tbh): Katara and Sokka would go back to the SWT and fight against the NWT's heavy influence on the rebuilding efforts; Toph would put off going back to her parents for as long as possible until she can't anymore; Suki would get a backstory!!!!!!!! And it would be kickass.

Finally, the canon ships would (hopefully) get more development. Katara would have agency in her own love story, and she and Aang would actually talk about their feelings and what a relationship really means! Mai and Zuko would probably still fight a lot tbh. They still don't really understand each other at the end of season 3, and they would have to grapple with that.

Suki and Sokka are just chilling though. They would probably continue being healthy and communicative. Yknow, like they are in canon. Although, i do think there is some potential for conflict left over from EIP, of Sokka still deeply wounded from Yue's sacrifice, and having to properly heal from that. Actually, while he's at it, there are a couple of other things he could do with properly processing...

Okayyy i'm gonna stop it there because I've rambled for far too long already. If anyone's read all the way to this point, thank you so much. I probably wouldn't have lmao

And thank you so much for the ask @phatprog !! I had wayy too much fun writing this in case you hadn't noticed 😭 i just needed an excuse to rant for a bit

[sevenstarsinning]

Invasion Ch. 12

Description:  A planet conquering race of Saiyans invaded Earth and deemed it worthy of habitation. After bringing the humans to their heels, they set up a new society where humans had one role, to serve. You found yourself in the unlucky faction of being bought and sold as a human pet. With absolutely no interest in owning a human but no way out of having one, Kakarot made a bid on you at the urging of his brother. It was only a matter of time before you were either killed or forced into obedience.

You can find previous chapters in this link: Ch.11 or you can read it here on my AO3

__________________________________

A routine developed for you, wake up, eat, meet with Gine to train, eat lunch, train more, eat dinner, heal any bruises and scrapes in the healing pod, then back to the palace. Bulma had left you alone for the most part, which was good because you really didn’t feel like explaining to her where you were going and what you were doing. That morning you finished your breakfast and opened your door to head out, but you ran smack into the one person you were just trying to avoid.

“Shit, sorry, Bulma.” You said as she took a step back.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” She asked the question you were trying to avoid.

“Um, just out. I need some fresh air.” You lied.

She pushed her way into your room, “yeah, I understand that completely. Today is not going to be fun for anyone.”

You turned to face her with your brow furrowed, “why not?”

She stared blankly and confused at you, “you- today’s the trial for Kakarot. Did you forget?”

“Fuck. I didn’t even- I knew it was coming up, but I didn’t realize it was so soon.”

“Are you okay? You’ve been a little off lately.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Um, the trial, you’ll let me know what happens?” You hoped to distract her from more questions.

“You do know that you’re expected to be there, right?” She continued to regard you as if you had a second head or something.

“Me? Why? I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Because Vegeta wants to show us off to his father and from now on you’re required to attend any event in the palace. But besides all of that, you love Kakarot, I thought you’d want to be there?”

“Loved,” you corrected, “he made it abundantly clear that it was just great sex.”

“I’m- I don’t know what to say here. You seem so careless about this?”

“No, I cared, I cared too much and ended up hurt. I can’t hold onto those feelings when they meant nothing to him. I’ll go to the trial because the last thing I need is Prince Dickhead angry at me, but I’m not going because of any assumed loyalty to Kakarot.” You felt bad for snapping at her, but you honestly didn’t have the capacity to show any sympathy anymore.

A heavy silence fell over the two of you as you stood there for a moment, “is there anything else I need to know?”

“Just be ready within the hour to meet with the King before the trial and I’d change your clothes if I were you. Also, Vegeta says we don’t speak unless spoken to and even then we probably shouldn’t speak.” Her expression had dropped from concern to one of sadness as she left the room.

You let out a frustrated sigh, wishing you’d said more to her or done something else to make her understand, but it was all too overwhelming and you honestly wanted to just forget everything and move forward, whatever direction that actually was.

Picking out a decent dress shouldn’t have been as hard as it was, but there you were with too many choices and honestly, not enough motivation to care. You grabbed the one that didn’t make you feel completely exposed, black silk with a low cut back. You threw your hair up in a semi-presentable bun and headed down to where you assumed Bulma and Vegeta would be.

You descended the stairs to the main hall to see the two of them standing next to one another as they waited a few feet away from the door.

“Cutting it close, human.” Vegeta snapped as soon as you were within earshot.

“Sorry, dresses aren’t my thing.” You shrugged.

“Clothing isn’t your thing, breeding isn’t your thing, if we weren’t so pressed for time, I’d love to hear what your thing actually is.” He grabbed your arm and pulled you around to his other side.

You peered over to Bulma who looked absolutely flawless in a long, strapless, red dress that hugged her curves almost as if it was her own skin. Vegeta was also apparently wearing his best, his armor was adorned with gold around the seams, a cape flowed behind him, and his emblem was embossed on his breastplate. They really did look like a royal couple and then there was you, looking like you’d rolled out of bed just moments before.

“I’d rather not go on the assumption that she told you this already, but you will not speak, no utterance of even a syllable If you’re spoken to, you’ll answer with a nod of your head. Understood?” He seemed even more tense than literally any other time you’d seen him.

“Got it. No words.” You wondered if Gine was going to make an appearance. She probably didn’t even show for training that morning, especially if she knew about the trial being that day.

“When this is over, there is still the matter of your use to be discussed. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Before you could respond with some half thought out comeback, the large doors opened, and you immediately felt a tenseness building in your stomach.

The second you laid your eyes on the King, you knew what all of the hype was about. His demeanor alone was demanding of respect as he carried himself without an ounce of carelessness or patience. The scowl he held on his face seemed like a permanent fixture, at least you’d seen Vegeta with a little more range.

“Father.” Vegeta nodded with a slight bow of his head.

“Don’t be so familiar in front of others. Have you already forgotten all of your etiquette?”

“I apologize, King Vegeta.”

You held back any facial expression you wanted to give in the moment about his name being the same as Vegeta’s and their entire planet. Vegeta didn’t seem like the ‘junior’ type.

“Allow me to introduce my humans, this is Bulm-“

The King waved his hand dismissively, “I have no interest in knowing either of their names. My concern only goes as far as the abomination of their blood mixing with a saiyan’s.”

“Our race has bred outside of our line in previous years, they’re the most compatible to-“

“You’re doing nothing but chasing a myth with this hybrid idea of yours. I’m only allowing this rouse to continue because this planet has resources we can exploit and the humans seem to keep the morale up for the lower class saiyans.” The King seemed to sneer at the two of you with a glance that barely lasted one second.

“Of course, sir. I apologize for suggesting their usefulness expands beyond that.” Vegeta cowering was an odd sight to see.

“We need to discuss the sentencing before the trial begins. Where can we speak privately?” He made no move to look at the either of you.

Vegeta snapped his fingers at one of the saiyans standing to the side, “show the King to the study, I’ll be along shortly.”

“Do not keep me waiting, Prince Vegeta.” He shot him a warning glance before following the saiyan.

You waited a moment before relaxing a little. Your entire body had been tense that whole time and it was exhausting.

“Go to the throne room and wait for the trial to begin.”

“Do I have to be there?” You asked.

A thick silence lingered for a split second and you noticed the Prince’s jaw tense before he turned to you and clamped his hand over your throat.

“I’ve suffered your insolence for long enough, if you truly wish to be excused from this then I’ll be more than happy to end your involvement now.” He tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your skin and cutting off any air supply you had.

You grabbed at his forearm, struggling to breathe as your vision blurred, “p-please-“

“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.” He released your throat and left you gasping and choking for air as he headed in the same direction the King had gone.

You held your throat as you inhaled sharply and filled your lungs with air once more, your eyes watering.

“Let’s go.” Bulma placed her hand on your back and guided you with her, offering nothing else for comfort.

After a moment of walking with her, you were finally able to breathe normally and felt like the color had returned to your cheeks.

“He won’t hesitate to kill you, especially not with the King around.” Bulma finally spoke as you walked.

“Maybe that would be better than this?” You rubbed your neck, knowing bruises were already forming.

Bulma stopped suddenly and turned to you, “if you want to keep toying with your life, then do it when I’m not around. This isn’t a perfect life and it’s by no means the life I wanted for myself, but it’s what I have and I enjoy waking up everyday knowing I’m still alive because I’ve seen what happens to the others who weren’t as lucky, who didn’t get the same opportunity as me.” The tears in her eyes remained there, never falling and staining her cheeks.

“Bulma, I-“

“Just stay on his good side when I’m around, please?” She didn’t wait for you to respond before she returned to her path and walked ahead of you.

You felt bad for putting her in any kind of harm’s way. You could tell she was just as frightened as you, but there was something more to it than that. There was still a lot of unknown bits to how Bulma ended up where she was. You never really asked and she never really offered the information freely. Of course there was the curiosity, but you assumed it wasn’t the same as yours. She always seemed so much more capable and put together, and less likely to end up in an auction. She had a genuine fear that doesn’t come from just hearing about something bad, it comes from experience.

You followed her in silence, wanting to reach out and apologize for being selfish, but you couldn’t find the right words that didn’t make you sound like a complete jackass. You entered the throne room, which had been altered a bit for the trial. Two thrones sat at the far end and a cement post had been placed in the center with what looked like an iron fixture on it.

Bulma took her place next to one of the thrones, obviously knowing which one was for the Prince and which was for the King. You stood next to her and fought with yourself on an apology before deciding on how to say what you needed to say. You grabbed her hand suddenly and squeezed it slightly, pulling her gaze directly to you. She offered a small, fleeting smile before turning away again, but she made no move to take her hand from yours.

You stood there together for what seemed like hours. Either time had stopped or it was just going by so slowly due to the anticipation. You felt anxiety sitting like a rock in the pit of your stomach, not just about the trial, but seeing Kakarot again. You hadn’t seen him in what felt like months but had only actually been a few days. You flexed your freehand, feeling the ache still settling in your fingers from the last session with Gine. You didn’t have the full time in one of the healing pods so there were still bruises and aches that remained. As a few other saiyans entered the room to stand in witness of the spectacle, you thought about how far you’d come since your first time take a step into the palace. You were overshadowed by Kakarot, all of it seeming so daunting in the moment.

The second Vegeta and the King entered the room, Bulma released your hand and seemed to stiffen. Her demeanor changed completely, but you assumed she was more accustomed to this sort of thing than you were. You silently chastised yourself for not asking her what to expect at the trial, how it would go down and what would happen afterward. A few moments passed after they took their positions in the thrones, then the large double doors at the end of the room opened, several saiyans entered, surrounding Kakarot. He was restrained almost in overkill. He was adorned with a collar similar to the one you had, only this one was thicker and probably had a lot more stopping power in it. They even had his tail restrained and pinned down around his waist. You couldn’t help but smirk at the black eye Turles was wearing, it made you feel a little better knowing Kakarot was most likely the one who gave it to him.

“Kakarot.” Prince Vegeta spoke first, drawing attention from everyone in the room.

“Prince Vegeta. King Vegeta.” He offered barely a nod at them while he glanced at you.

Just his gaze alone sent a shiver through you. You still felt that pull to him, regardless of what he’d said before. The pain and hurt was still there, but seeing him again made your feelings grow complicated. Your eyes met his in a split second and you wanted two things, to hit him and make him hurt the way he’d done to you, and then kiss him.

“Let’s begin. You’re being tried for murdering seven elite warriors and conspiring to overthrow myself and the Prince. These are treasonous charges, how do you plead?” King Vegeta said with as much disinterest as he could.

“Not entirely guilty.” Kakarot said.

“Explain.” The King urged.

“I’m only guilty of some of it. I did kill the elite warriors, I take the full sentencing for that, but my motives were my own. I had no plans to unseat you or the Prince.”

A lull of gasps and muttering spread throughout the room from the other saiyans. You noticed Gine and Bardock standing towards the front of the crowd with Raditz near. You wondered if they would stay after the trial, mainly Gine.

“You admit to slaughtering seven saiyans without provocation?” The King questioned.

“I admit to killing them, but it wasn’t without reason.” Kakarot continued to steal glances at you.

“Out of my own curiosity, I will grant a less severe sentencing if you share your reasoning behind murdering your fellow elite warriors.”

There was a silence that fell over the room as everyone froze with intrigue, wanting to hear his explanation. You were also extremely interested in why he would do such a thing, especially when he made such a point to be in defense of his brother and the other saiyans. Kakarot looked back at his family, his gaze meeting Gine’s in that moment before he turned back around.

“I can’t do that.”

“Can’t do what exactly?” The King pressed.

“I can’t share my reasoning.”

“Kakarot, please!” Gine called out, but was quickly silenced by Bardock pulling her back and placing his arm around her.

The King seemed to grow annoyed as he sat forward, “and why not? Are you protecting someone? An accomplice?”

“I acted alone. I’d like to request my sentencing now.” He seemed to be in a hurry to get it over with.

You looked over to Vegeta who had remained quiet. His hand gripped the arm of his chair to the point where his fingers were digging into the wood itself. There was more to this than Kakarot was letting on and Vegeta seemed to have answers.

“You’re forfeiting a right to a fair trial? Without sufficient evidence to discount the charge of treason you will be taking on all charges, regardless of your plea.” The King explained.

Kakarot gave you one last glance, “I plea guilty to all charges then.”

Your heart sank as more muttering erupting throughout the room. Gine turned towards Bardock and buried her face in his chest. Kakarot remained calm and stoic, giving no emotion away as he awaited his sentencing.

“Why is he doing this?” You whispered to Bulma.

She turned her head towards you, “I-I don’t know. I’ve never seen a trial like this before. Normally they have witnesses to their character, their actions, someone to defend them, but he’s giving up all of that.”

“You leave me no choice but to continue with your sentence. Since you are under the Prince’s orders, I’ll allow him to deliver the ruling.” The King sat back in his throne.

“As an elite warrior you pledged your allegiance to protecting all saiyans under the rule of myself and the King. You broke that allegiance when you took the lives of those you swore to protect. We find you guilty of all charges of murder and treason, for which the sentencing is death.” Vegeta spoke with little emotion, his hand still holding a death grip on the arm of the throne.

[braindeacl]

Buzzkill | Eilidh & Vic

SETTING: Vic’s residence. TIMING: A few weeks ago. PARTIES: @natusvincere & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Vic has the angry-online-lady come over to help with her bee problem. But finds she knows the person knocking.  WARNINGS: N/A

Getting rid of a phallic-shaped bee nest and it’s accompanying vibrating man in a place like White Crest really should have been simpler than this, but Vic was already annoyed.  It could have been a simple exchange between her and the woman from the internet, until she tried to scold her with talks about bees and their moral superiority over the rest of the world, or something like that.  As the inevitable knock on the door came that evening, Vic hoped that their exchange would be quick.  Give her the nest and a nice glare for good measure, and hope to never hear from her or the bees again.  She pulled open her front door, but who she met on the other side was certainly not who she was expecting.  “Eilidh?”, she asked, bewildered.  An old, regretful hook up- and possibly the most annoying person on the planet. “Why are you here?”  She didn’t try to hide her disdain.

It should’ve been a simple exchange. Now it felt more like a rescue. That woman… the woman on the internet had no regard or respect for nature. Thankfully Eilidh had noticed the post and decided to extend a helpful hand, though with how the interaction spiraled, it extended to the bees and the bees alone. Plus she finally would be seeing the hive in person! She only had a faint idea with what she was dealing with—the shape indicating a specific and rare type of bee, despite her initial thoughts of mere coincidence. Coincidence wasn’t entirely off the table, but she eagerly ran straight for the tantalizing conclusion. She gave one loud knock against the door, a big bang on the wooden structure. Door opened, and she planned to keep it short, but definitely not sweet. Until... Until her name was spoken. Her chosen name. The one she rarely gave out. The pits within her boiled over, threatening to erupt from her. Throat prepared to growl, teeth prepared to snap. But then she looked harder. Recognition registered. The prepared growl lept out as a curt laugh. Teeth still considered to snap. “Ah, hell. Vicky! Should’ve known it was you.” A pyrite in the rough. Vic had certainly enchanted her, bundled her up warm. And left her out in the cold when she was done with her. At least the sex had been fun. Perhaps the only truth she knew of the woman. “Wanna give me your phallic hive, huh? This some long-winded way to say you wanna fuck again?” 

Vicky.  It was all Vic could do to not physically shudder at the ridiculous name.  She’d pretended to tolerate it back when she’d gotten to know the other woman, but the ruse had died down pretty quickly when it became obvious that she was not a vampire like Vic had first suspected.  She hadn’t needed her anymore after that, so she ghosted her, effectively.  She was so glad to be rid of the constant need for affection and sickening smell of dirt that she barely felt guilty for hanging her high and dry.  It was business, and Eilidh had no right to feel jaded.  “I should have known this was you”, she said after a while, closing her front door with a force that could only convey anger and annoyance to her companion. She ignored her accusation of wanting more, choosing instead to cross her arms and lean back against the side of her house, waiting for Eilidh to show any semblance of decorum.  Her father would have told her she looked like a child.  She stood up straight almost instantly.  “I can think of about 100 things I’d rather do”, she shot back, walking down her front steps and fully expecting the other woman to follow.  The path to her shed wasn’t long, though it was surrounded by blooming, in season flowers.  Their bright colors never matched Vic’s disposition.  “I was rather concerned about someone who was both enamored with the offensive shape of the hive and also more obsessed with bees than their own self respect that I didn’t know who’d show up today”, she said as she walked.  It was a total lie- most of her time before Eilidh had arrived had been spent on making herself look presentable- would this strange woman be pleased with how she looked?  What a waste of time, now that she knew who’d showed up.  She turned around as she led her, her innate curiosity taking over.  “What are you even planning on doing with the hive, anyway?”  She was not interested in old pleasantries or even apologies.  Whether or not Eilidh understood that was not her problem.

Eilidh had spent so long leaving others, never giving them the chance to do the same to her—because they will, they always will—she had almost forgotten how it felt to be on the receiving end. Almost. That old wound sported a new opening, stinging in the spring air. She had to be quicker next time. She had to be the first to go. Like the injured animal she was, she bared her teeth. It almost looked like a smile. “Would say the same. But never knew you well ‘nough to know.” At least some satisfaction was found at the clear revulsion on Vic’s face. It made the almost-smile more genuine. “Oh, hundred! Finally learned new tricks.” She followed behind Vic at a distance, physical mirroring the emotional. It was weird. Finally being here. Flowers in bloom. Dancing under the moonlight, despite the looming frost. Those gentle petals had once adorned the nape of her neck, intertwined in her hair. But now they ignored her. As cold as the air in her lungs. As the woman before her. At the inquiry, Eilidh’s divided attention snapped back to the leading woman. She too was equally beautiful, shimmering under the stars. But so far away. “Gonna relocate them. Find a place where they can thrive. Deep in the woods.” Far away from others, far away from her. So no one would destroy them. People had a habit of doing that to powerful, mysterious things. Things they didn’t understand. Suddenly, there was a sound from behind. Ever curious, she turned her head, and after a beat she realized it to be muffled barking. A true smile twitched on her lips. “Can I say hello to Winnie? That’s the only bitch I wanna see right now.” Truthfully, she had missed that kindred spirit. But bitterness forced her tongue, and her chances were most likely shattered. 

Eilidh wasn’t wrong.  In their time together, Vic had managed to get a considerable amount of information from her companion, all without revealing much about herself.  “That was intentional”, she said through a forced smile.  She scoffed, forcing herself not to turn back and face the other woman, despite the urge to defend herself.  “You say ‘finally’ like our time together wasn’t enjoyable for you. Did you keep coming back for more because you enjoyed the drive over, then?”  They arrived at the hive almost as soon as Eilidh finished sharing her plans for it and Vic locked eyes with her, unable to bring herself to gaze upon it in the company of someone else.  Bees could be heard vibrating from inside the nest, and a few buzzed around it as well. “Well...as you can see it’s very phallic”, she said, blinking awkwardly.  “I suppose it’s best hidden away in the woods, that way no one has to witness such an atrocity.”  Now if Eilidh would just take the hive and go, she’d never have to think about either of them again.  Of course she wouldn’t be so lucky.  She scoffed at Eilidh’s request, flaring her nostrils in annoyance.  Winnie adored everyone and anyone, and she wasn’t afraid to show it, either.  Of course Eilidh would want to see her.  After a beat of staring at the other woman, she rolled her eyes dramatically, walking a few paces around the side of the house to open her back door.  It wasn’t even a moment later that Winnie came bounding outside at lightning speed, panting and slobbering excitedly.  She did an energetic lap around the shed before she ran right toward Eilidh, trying to jump up and get a lick at her face in between excited barks.  “Winnifred, nej!”, she scolded, worried that her oaf of a canine would knock the other woman down.  The last thing she needed was a lawsuit on her hands.  Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, or at least disobedient ones.

“Now, yes.” Eilidh stated plainly. While she could still at least enjoy the view—Was she wearing that dress just for me? Ha!—there was no more substance. At least, that’s what she told herself. But a wondering did linger—who was this woman truly? Did she laugh same as before, fuck same as before? The questioning caused negative emotions to simmer—brought a fog in her mind. But a comment, followed by a screaming thought, brought her back. It's not an atrocity! She wanted to scream, to go on yet another tangent. But they’ve had that whole song and dance before. And she had more than just mere words in her arsenal. A growl took the scream’s place. Feelings effectively summarized by that primal rumble in her throat. “Must be why you’re out here. By yourself.” Before Vic could register what she meant, Eilidh turned to face the hive. It truly was phallic. Much more magnificent than in the pages of that old book. She took a step forward, then another, then one more. Testing her luck. Testing their patience. With one more questioning step—snow giving a satisfying cruuunch—the bees started to stir, awoken from their stupor. Buzzing sounding more like a warning hiss. Her feet came to stop—let her eyes do the work instead. The hive seemed to be fixed on the exterior of the wall, entirely out in the open. There would probably be no need to remove any bits of Vic’s shed in the process of securing the hive. Though, she might—she will—just for the hell of it. The backpack resting on her shoulders slid across her arms, joining the ground with a muffled thud. Searching hands grasped at the needed supplies. But as these items were revealed, basked in moonlight, a familiar jingling entered her ears.

Fingers released, letting the supplies rejoin their brethren for now. Eilidh had more pressing matters to attend to. The swarm gave another eruption of noise as the canine came just a little too close. But it was softer, subdued, perhaps having already grown used to Winnie’s antics. One second, she was lost behind the shed; the other, she was barreling straight for Eilidh. “A bhobain!” Arms opened wide in preparation, and Winnie wiggled herself into that waiting embrace. Then she practically wiggled herself out of it, her excitement unable to be contained by herself or Eilidh’s grasp. All Eilidh could do was laugh—sound like a wind chime in a hurricane. The laughter quickly died, not for lack of amusement, but for Winnie’s tongue encasing her whole mouth. She did not stop these feverish licks and returned the affection with scritches upon the dog’s nape. 

Eilidh’s flare for the dramatics seemed, somehow, even more annoying when Vic wasn’t putting on a front to charm her, and she rolled her eyes at the attempted insult, even if her companion could not see. Her looks were never an insecurity for her, at least not for a few centuries now.  Funny that she seemed to affect the other woman so much that she felt the need to insult her.  Again, she thought about how Eilidh had no reason to feel scorned or hurt.  Even if it was essentially fake, they had had a good run, and Vic had treated her right.  “I’m out here by myself to avoid running into people like you”, she shot back, though in White Crest, someone like Eilidh was the least of her concerns. Despite her annoyance with the woman, though, there was something fascinating about the way she explored the nest with such care.  There was a newfound cautiousness and gentleness there, one Vic wasn’t used to seeing from Eilidh.  Something sparked in her, too, when she watched the interaction between her and Winnie.  “How’s Tulip?”, she asked, against her better judgement. Eilidh’s dog, who was maybe the pure opposite of Winnie in demeanor, always elicited a sort of soft spot from Vic.  “I mean, is she surviving you?”

Good humors returned with each lick placed on her face, all Eilidh did in response to Vic’s retort was a simple laugh. The implied insult fizzled and died upon her ego—though the heat of its death did create some form of pride. Her simple presence—despite how literal the comment—could cause such a brash reaction? Funny! Momentarily distracted by the thought, she hadn’t noticed the shift of weight upon her body, until she was sent tumbling down under Winnie’s excitement. Upper hand secured, Winnie took upon the opportunity with vigor, making sure every inch of Eilidh’s face was marked with her tongue. More of Eilidh’s laughter filled the air in response. White vapors of breath clouded them in fog. Giving them some privacy. It was only broken with the mention of her own canine companion. Hands pressed and pushed into Winnie’s face—squishing those skin rolls into one—until her tongue licked the air in vain. “Thriving, actually. Been doing lots of swimming.” Warm weather drew the dog to water like moth to flame. Warmth that had slipped passed her fingers, same as Vic’s. “Well, had. Before a layer of ice blocked us out. Assholes.”

Winnie laid in wait, now frozen mid-lick in something akin to acceptance. But instead of allowing that tongue to return, Eilidh wiggled out from under her hovering form. As her feet found footing, she finally released that hold upon the dog, who gladly resumed those joyous kisses. Eilidh whispered something in her ear, gave a kiss of her own, then stood. The hive felt her presence once more, buzzing in welcome or threat or both. Those dropped supplies returned to her grasp, out into the crisp air, ready for use. “Time for a neuter.” 

Vic wanted to continue to scowl, but Winnie pushing Eilidh down was quite a sight, and despite herself, a smirk came to play on her lips.  “Winifred!”, she scolded with barely any gusto.  She nodded at the mention of the weather, annoyed that it had taken such a turn, recently.  “Winnie rather enjoys the snow.  She thinks it’s Christmas in July.”  She wondered, briefly, what it might be like for the dogs to get together to have a playdate.  As annoying as she was, there was something sweet about watching the way Eilidh interacted with Winnie, as if they had been lifelong friends finally reunited after being torn apart.  

She let out a shallow breath as her companion turned her attention to the bees, briefly wondering why the vibrating man never came around when she was outside.  Was he afraid of her?  He should be.  “Will it hurt them?” she asked, eyeing the supplies curiously.  “Where in god’s name did you get all those things, anyway?  Do you just carry around supplies for bees just in case one of their hives happens to be shaped in a horribly offensive way?”

Eilidh shook her head down to the eagerly waiting dog. “Perhaps Cailleach brought you a gift, eh? Do we got you to blame for all this?” A finger booped playfully on top the canine’s nose. Winnie’s tongue slapped desperately across her own muzzle, trying to return the favor and lick that pressing digit—but reflexes were too slow and all that tongue met was crisp air. Despite Eilidh’s hand clearly returning to her side, that tongue continued a good few seconds before realizing defeat. At the sight, laughter burst out of Eilidh once more. Ripples of that giggle still ricocheted off her throat as attentions focused fully on the task at hand. Well, almost fully. “Won’t hurt ‘em.” Despite the smile that still clung to her lips, drops of aggression bled into her voice. Assuming the worst. Because she didn’t have the best examples to work with—and the better ones were lies. “Don’t be too disappointed.” 

The aggression bled out, for the most part, leaving behind her usual humors. “Stole ‘em. Shhhh, don’t tell. Always gotta keep ‘em on hand. These fuckers are sprinkled all over town. Got a second bag for pussy-shaped hives, too. Can’t mix those two up. ‘Less you want ‘nother Clevesdale incident.” In that following beat, unwavering eyes stared at Vic—expressionless. But only for a beat, for soon a lip twitch betrayed her and she sighed an amused breath. But the truth remained on her tongue. The fuck did Vic think, she’d show up empty-handed? Not that Eilidh was particularly above brute forcing some projects—perks of her biology led to lack of need for safety precautions. So, the supplies she hoisted from the bag were for the bees’ sake. Not her own. They found themselves onto her hands, inching closer to the hive. The inhabitants stirred at the action, air taking on a quick heartbeat in their unified song. But frost lulled them back to sleep. Leaving her to her work. “Gonna help? Or just stand there looking pretty?” 

Winnie seemed to be satisfied with her greeting, finally leaving Eilidh be in favor of giving Vic a quick, affectionate nudge before she ran off into the yard, darting past trees and zipping through flower beds and jumping into piles of snow, then circling the women quickly before doing it all again.  She’d once heard someone refer to this behavior as the ‘zoomies’, though she’d never lower herself to call it such a thing.  She didn’t know why she was relieved to know the beasts wouldn’t be hurt.  They had, after all, offended her greatly with their hive.  But she didn’t have too much time to think of it before Eilidh made her backhanded comment.  She narrowed her eyes at the woman, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Can’t be more disappointed than when you showed up on my doorstep, darling”.  If she were being honest with herself (an annoying habit she picked up lately) it was a bit of a strange relief to have Eilidh there.  Her companion, for all her bite and quirks, wasn’t a threat, and Vic supposed that was good enough for her.

“I never know when you’re being honest”, she responded, ignoring the rather large piece of irony that came with her saying such a thing.  She pursed her lips with disdain as Eilidh continued, clearly unappreciative of her choice of words.  “Can’t you find another word to describe them?  P...ussy is so- crass.”  The bemused twitch of her lips let her know that Eilidh thought she was being funny.  Vic, for her part, let out another annoyed huff.  Again, too, at the idea that she was meant to help.  (She ignored the way her heart fluttered at being called pretty, the way it always did when beautiful women took notice). “I had you come so I wouldn’t have to do the work”, she muttered begrudgingly, despite walking closer to Eilidh and the hive.  The bees buzzed around her at first, and she instinctively wanted to run away even though she knew they couldn’t hurt her.  She looked at Eilidh expectantly, and then down at her bag, not quite knowing what she was meant to do.  After looking between them once more, she hoisted it up, holding it out so Eilidh could rummage through.  “I think you mentioned on the ‘online’ that you’d remove this for free, but I will be paying you.  How much does one usually charge to remove offensively shaped hives?”

“Don’t be such a pussy ‘bout pussy.” The way the word struggled to release from Vic’s mouth—like sap oozing from a tree—sent chuckles freely from her own. Which quickly turned to a scoff at Vic’s protest. “I think ‘least you can manage”—words cut short as her idea came to life without any instruction, her bag brought up an easy arm stretch away—“… that.” Hands returned to the bag once more, confirming she had all she needed, though Eilidh no longer needed to bend as before. As they returned to the icy air, fingers brushed against Vic’s own. Despite the cold, only warmth pricked at her affected palm, up the connected arm. A reaction born of a time lost to a lie, she tried to remind herself. But the mind rarely won against the body, for it was one against all. So, she returned her gaze to the hive. She knew how to feel about that. “Not sure.” In truth, money was not something she put much thought into. The main reason it crossed her mind was to ensure the creatures that have come and gone from her life received satisfactory care. And Vic’s ignorance did present an opportunity to secure much funds for such care. But something else knocked at her mind, pushing out before it could supply an outrageous number value to her labor. “How ‘bout we trade in favors?”

The close proximity of foreign entities (What do they want? What will they do?) and of foreign tools (Will it hurt? Will it kill?) finally jolted the hive out of the winter stupor. A black cloud overcame the hive, phallic-shape lost under the swarm of small bodies. But what started as irregular began to form purpose. The lumps of the cloud elongated and quivered until something familiar was forged. Like looking at a fucked-up a mirror, Eilidh was greeted by the top-half of a humanoid body. Suspended in air, made entirely of bees. “There you are.” The being looked at her. Seemingly. The structure at the top, resembling a head, was tilted down. And the curve facing the shed was more pronounced, like where the skull met the back of the neck. Leaving the front pointed at her. Staring at her. A sea of many returned her gaze, a collective of eyes focused exclusively on her. Trying to meet one pair was fruitless—they weaved in and out of each other, blending into each other. Where one ended and another began was left unclear. But that was intentional. For they were more than just those of their parts. Not one. Not all. But both. And neither. And something new. 

“There is a man obsessed with insects in town.  Or- he inherited an obsession with insects, from what I’ve summarized.  He wanted to come get the hive as well if I’m being honest.  I agreed to let you come take it before your rudeness came out.”  Vic watched the ground as she spoke, the way the snow glistened against the twilight of the evening made it look like a natural shimmer on the ground.  She wondered what color paint it would take to achieve such a color.  “I’ll ask him what his going rate is.”  She narrowed her eyes at Eilidh, wondering if she was being serious with her implication.  “It’s incredibly illegal in the United States to trade services for such favors”, she chided disapprovingly.  “You expect me to behave like a depraved criminal?”  The thought was appealing, even if she didn’t particularly want to admit it.  Her bed had been particularly cold lately, especially since Marley found herself practically hitched.  It would be easy with Eilidh, especially if she could find some good-quality earplugs. 

Vic wanted to flinch as the bees swarmed, childhood fears of discomfort bubbling to the surface at the thought of being stung by the beasts.  But then she blinked as the swarm became more concrete, not quite believing what she saw forming in front of her.  “Oh.  That’s the naked man”, she said, everything coming into place.  “Perhaps this is why it appears he’s vibrating from afar.”  She stepped closer to Eilidh and the bee man, realizing now that these bees were less natural than she thought.  Phallic loving bees for sure, judging from the shape of the hive and the vibrating man’s apparent appendage.  “Maybe he needs to earn your trust before they’ll let you cut it down”, she suggested, her voice a hushed whisper in Eilidh’s ear.  “Naked man!”, she was shouting now, even though the bee man was barely two feet away.  “You are not safe here.  Or- you do not belong.  I do not wish to look at your offensive, ugly hive any longer!”

Eilidh blinked. Only once, realization pushed away the confusion and forced out a laugh. Loud and brief—thunderclap of amusement. “For someone who can’t say it. You got pussy on the mind.” Certainly hadn’t been the main path her mind ventured. While Vic’s body had been a topic—and sex did find itself lower down on the list—it had focused more on humiliation than pleasure. Though for some, the two weren’t so exclusive. The latter especially took a run about in her thoughts. Caused a prick of rage, though left an aftertaste of craving. A craving she thought she’d been done with, after the abandonment set in. But anger and lust often paired, at least for her. She eyed the woman up and down, hands unsure if they wanted to slap or caress. “‘Pends. How desperately you want ‘em gone?” Those hands found an answer at Vic’s… attempt to placate the hive. Directed shout caused the amalgamation to flinch in its own special way. Form rippled as if struck by the sound waves. Solidity returned at the insult, though stillness did not. Vibrations shook its entire core—caused a buzzing unlike anything heard before. Before the situation could be worsened, those decisive hands finally found themselves on Vic. And gave her a blunt shove. Right into the snow. “Anyway. Wanna get away from this bitch? To some place nice and warm? Summer’s only a few miles away.” Stillness. Silence. The hive watched her with consideration, head tilting in thought. 

Vic knew her face could no longer blush, but she was sure that the moment a laugh bubbled out from Eilidh, her cheeks turned a bright crimson.  She didn’t know why she assumed Eilidh had been making such an offer, but hindsight made her utterly embarrassed that she’d said it out loud.   “It’s just what I’ve come to expect from you”, she muttered out weakly, her hands traveling to smooth down her hair in an effort to keep themselves busy.  “Desperately enough to invite who I thought would be a stranger over to take them”, she answered honestly, wondering if this whole interaction might be over by now if she had just let the insect man grab the hive instead.  It certainly would have filled her with much less dread and guilt, that was for sure.  Vic let out an equally surprised and offended grunt when she was shoved to the ground, and her hands barely caught herself in time to stop herself from landing face-first in the snow.  The nerve of Eilidh pushing her down on her own property!  As she picked herself up and brushed herself off, face contorted with a mix of annoyance and offense, she distantly heard what her companion was saying to the dickbees.  “Bitch?”, she asked incredulously, clearly offended.  “That’s incredibly rude.  If you’re going to insult me, at least do it while I’m out of earshot like a decent person”, she huffed.  The bees, for their part, seemed calmed by Eilidh’s offer, and their shape began to form less of a man with every passing second, as if their demeanor was calming.  Despite all of the offense, Vic couldn’t help but glance again at Eilidh.  “I think they’ll like their new mom”, she said dryly.  Eilidh seemed to have some sort of special connection with stupid creatures, if her relationship with Winifred was any indication.

Eilidh smirked, eyes refusing to join the ground with the woman she addressed. “Then get outta earshot.” She felt a sudden pull for the amalgamation, at that quip of motherhood. Such a word always putting her in an odd sort of way, whether pleasant or distressed. But it passed just as the sourcing comment. A thought of apology was absent from lips and mind. Her attentions instead fully found themselves on the buzzing entity—though reaction would be mirrored if the two women had been alone. The two eliciting different reactions from the entity: buzzing turned chorus with Vic and trembling turned stilled at Eilidh. Both coursed over each bee unit as the legion’s gaze went back and forth. Overcome by waves of sound and silence. The silence won, revealing the hum of brisk winds in its wake, as the rocking head settled on Eilidh. Only turned to movement again to give a small nod. Almost simultaneously, Eilidh’s hands clapped together. That nod returned on her own head. “Lovely. Let’s get on it, then.” She began her work removing the hive as inhabitants watched with a curiosity. Even assisted when needed. Hands, both of flesh and of bees, worked silently for a minute or two. Until Eilidh broke it. “I’ll message later the payment. This was lots of work, you see.” The hive began releasing its hold on the shed easily, as if all it needed was a simple push. “Gonna need to really consider all the parts.” 

Vic crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at Eilidh, sending her a look of scorn and distaste.  “You get out of my earshot!”  Although there was a feeling, deep and dark and desperate to be ignored, that she didn’t want Eilidh to leave at all.  She watched with rapt attention and curiosity as the bees and Eilidh worked together to do their work, her companion seamlessly joining a computer-like system of workers who knew what needed to be done and when.  It was so easy for them to join together, even as Vic had only moments ago been thinking how inconvenient and annoying they both were.  She let out a huff when the work was done, unsure of what exactly she was feeling.  An urge to call Morgan pricked at the back of her neck like a bee sting.  “I’ll be waiting, then.  Don’t know why everything has to be such a big production.”  Eilidh, still in love with the theatrics, could have just told her how much she wanted here and get it over with.  But Vic didn’t hate the idea of having to meet up with her again.  As she watched her go, Winnie settled at her side, her breaths heavy and rambunctious as she watched with some longing her friend leave.  Vic tried to ignore her own feeling of longing, but life was never so simple or kind. 

[sero-sphere]

Writing Prompt : Serial Killer Tomura Shigaraki

listen so i know its been awhile. alot of things happened. i got a new job, my computer broke, my computer got fixed....bnha season 4 ended. Tiger King was a thing, and obviously quarantine.

also sorry this is what i decided to post first. youve all been warned!

Prompt: a serial killer who finds their victims through dating apps has finally chosen their next target. they've been texting for a while and had planned what would've been a fatal first date, but then the country went on lockdown. the killer keeps in touch figuring they might as well keep around another potential victim except...they’re kinda starting to like this one.

(Serial killer Tomura x f reader)

Warnings: murder, non-con everything? , mention of rape? idk its bad he kills people. maybe a little hybristophilia if you look real close.  (pls just remember none of this is real and proceed with caution....thnks)

1 week before quarantine:

It had only been three days since you re-downloaded tinder off of a whim. There had been some pretty interesting matches up until this point, but you were flip flopping between two guys mainly. One was tall with dark hair. He was covered in burns that only seemed to add to his allure. He was hot, figuratively and literally. The other was another kind of mystery all together. He had denied all your requests for any more pictures of himself. He obviously had the standard few shown in his bio, but those were mostly all body pics. It’s not like he was even that big, his muscles were no doubt toned as anything, but, like the first boy, he was littered in scars that intrigued you. The chemistry the two of you shared seemed stronger in your opinion than with the first. You were dying to see him in person, after all you had only been able to see so much during your facetime calls.

After some time, you finally narrowed it down. You decided to take a risk and go with what was behind door number 2. Tomura Shigaraki.

 1 day before quarantine:

After a few days of chatting, the two of you had teased each other so much you couldn’t stand it anymore. You were just dying for him to ask to see you in person. You and your friends had stopped going to the clubs recently, and you just hoped your now empty schedule would line up with his at some point this week. Everyone around you was getting sicker and sicker so the club was definitely a no go for now. Plus, with the way you looked, it might be a bit dangerous. Still, you hoped to play your cards just right, and finally get him to give in. You decided a little impromptu face time session was the next step. Removing your sweatshirt, leaving you in only a tank top, you grabbed your phone.

-----------------------------------------    ≧◠‿◠≦✌    -----------------------------------------

Halfway through the call you were starting to tune him out when you heard him snap at you. “What are you paying attention to? Those eyes should be on me.”

Bashfully, you turned back to your phone. “Sorry, I mean, have you seen the news? Not only do they talk about the virus 24/7, they also talk about those murders all the time.”

“Oh…yeah?” He hardened slightly at the unintended mention of him.

“Yeah, I mean if the virus doesn’t take me out…I’m pretty sure this guy might. All the victims look almost exactly like me.”

He really was a sucker for your innocence. “Oh, I guess he must have a type...”

“Yeah it’s quite interesting.” Your eyes flicked up to your screen, then back to the T.V

“Interesting?” Shigaraki was genuinely confused.

Returning your gaze to your phone, you finally answered him. “Yeah I think so, why you don’t?”

Interesting was the last thing people called him. Freak, psycho, yeah, but interesting? “I’m not sure…why, are you interested in him?”

“Well, you just said he has a type…I just wonder what it is about girls like me that make him go crazy….I bet you he has mommy issues!” You said with a giggle.

“Hah, mommy issues…”

“Either that or he’s got one of those weird brother sister relationships…maybe if I pretend he’d let me live.” You moaned slightly into the speaker. “Oh, oniichan~”

He coughed to stop himself from moaning. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.” Admittedly you did look like his mom and sister. More similar to which, was the real question.

“Oh, you think?… Who doesn’t have family issues these days….”

He was silent as you continued to theorize about him unknowingly.  He couldn’t stop himself from asking “What would you say to him, ya know? You said you look like his victims…haven’t you thought about if it was to happen to you?”

“Hmm….. I guess I’d ask him why?”

“Why what?”

“Why kill them? Like I wonder what happened in his life for him to be able to do something like that?”

“That’s what you would say? Not scream for help?” All of his past victims screamed, God he hated that. That’s why he ended up shoving his cock down their throats half the time. Anything to get them to shut up.

“If I’m going to die anyway why not take the opportunity to get to know him a little. Might sound morbid, but he doesn’t let people get away.”

“Seems like you know a lot about this guy?” He asked probingly.

“I’ve been curious, nothing really going on in the world other than this virus...”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1 week into quarantine:

After that conversation Tomura became intrigued as to what you would think when you finally realized who he was. If you would really be brave enough to ask him ‘why’, right before he decided to take your life.  He was looking forward to the day you would finally agree to leave your house again. You were in the middle of a global pandemic after all. Until then, he had his ways of continuing his mission.

He started by hacking into the local hospital records. Truth be told he wasn’t ready to die, or be caught yet, so every week he would hack away for the names of the women who had recently been tested, and were found to be negative for the virus. He then sifted through their social media for girls that fit his profile. There weren’t too many, and he had to settle for a few that were a bit out of his age range.

A few weeks went by, the two of you keeping in touch every night. Tomura still finding suitable replacements until you were finally in his grasps. He didn’t want to give himself away by dragging you out, there were no excuses he could even think of at this point. It was better to wait, at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 weeks into quarantine:

“Victim? Victim, honey you’re my fifth one….”

After the deed was done, and he was just about to head out of there, Shigarakis phone started to ring. He was going to ignore it at first until he saw it was you.  It was rather unusual for you to call this early. You both kept to a strictly late night schedule. Curiosity got the better of him.

“Hey…” He answered, huffing into the phone. He was ashamedly out of breath after everything that just transpired.

“Oh hey, I didn’t think you were going to answer.”

“Well. I did…so what’s up?”

“Why do you sound so out of breath? What were you jerking off…” You said teasingly.

“No, I was about to though…” He wasn’t lying, he usually goes home to finish himself. Maybe now was the chance to take a little risk.

“Wanna help me get there?” Yup, he was doing this.

“Yeah, of course I do.” You replied, unaware of what the person on the other end of the phone was really about to do.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 weeks and 2 days into quarantine:

“Hey Tomu, you hear about what the killer left behind this time?” You all but nearly shouted, as soon as Shigaraki accepted your facetime call.

“Hmm, what was it?” If he had to take a guess, he bet he could figure out what it was.

“He came all over her face, he’s never done that before!…do you think he killed her before or after?”

“Probably before…” Probably? Yeah right, he knew for a fact he killed her before your little call to him.

“Yeah you’re probably right. They said this one was a bit older, I wonder if that helped him out more…ya’ know cause his supposed mommy issues.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s the case…”

He couldn’t really tell you it was you, who indeed got him there. Staring at that body that somewhat resembled you, while you were saying all those things to him. He really couldn’t wait to have you. He usually wasn’t a man of patience, so he couldn’t figure out why he hasn’t actually killed you yet. He kept making up excuses but deep down, he knew he was growing quite fond of you. He couldn’t help that you were stroking his ego every time he did something riskier and you would comment on it.  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4 weeks into quarantine:

 The last girl was different. They no longer felt right to him. He knew he had to have you. He wondered if he would miss you after it was done. Was he going to fuck you before or after? You weren’t going to be alive to theorize with him afterwards, that made him a little sad. He picked up his phone and shot you a text.