#putting together words comprehensibly is hard bestie...

[andr0nap-02]

Say, friend, its never too late to start writing...Should you need some help, my Dms are open and ready to assist! Im an amateur fic writer myself who has received some feedback in past, so i can help you get at least a small head start.

But you gotta promise us that 50k Alloid fic, got it?

ive dabbled in a bit of writing... but i always get burnt out around 2k and never touch the doc again 😔✌️

i appreciate the encouragement tho!!!

[zhonglis-wifey]

self harm comfort

zhongli, il dottore, yoimiya (romantic) + klee (platonic)

goin through it recently :,) !! here’s to another 6 month (or forever, whatever comes first) clean streak! starting over again is annoying but i’m ready to try again with a positive attitude <3 hugs for everyone else going through the same stuff!!! we’re in this together besties

TW: self harm (duh), implied suicide in zhongli’s, not graphic/descriptive

ZHONGLI

For the first time in his life, Zhongli doesn’t really know what to say. The god of a billion words is suddenly and uncharacteristically speechless as you reluctantly show him what you’ve done to yourself. The silence is only making it worse; You have no idea what Zhongli is thinking about you. The thought of Zhongli quietly judging you makes you want to hurt yourself all over again, maybe even a little more this time.

But Zhongli can sense that you’re overthinking, so they speak very carefully in hopes of bringing you back to reality. Sure enough, his honeyed baritone words stifle your overwhelming mind, giving you no choice but to focus on what he says rather than the horrible things running through your head. Zhongli reminds you of his unrelenting love for you, that he would do anything to help you get through this, that you can always talk to him, that you can tell him you need help.

You can tell from the abnormal panic and desperation in their tone that they’re scared. Zhongli has seen so many awful things beyond your comprehension. Because of that, he’s seen so much pain and loss. You can tell that Zhongli’s terrified that this is just the beginning of something far more sinister, that you might… disappear at your own hands like others have in the past. It’s his turn to overthink now. After everything they’ve been through, Zhongli doesn’t know if they can handle another loss.

That fear will only manifest into caring for you, though. Zhongli knows that if he wants to keep you here, alive with him, then he has to do everything in his power to help you recover.

IL DOTTORE

Dottore has a hard time understanding what you mean when you explain to him what happened. What do you mean you hurt yourself? Doesn’t that go against the innate human instinct of self preservation? And even if it did make sense for humans to self harm when they feel bad about themselves, which it absolutely didn’t, then what was so wrong with you that you had to do that to yourself?

Dottore genuinely could not wrap his head around what you couldn’t accept about yourself. To him, at least, there wasn’t a single thing worth hurting you over. He had spent his entire professional life looking to improve human beings by any means necessary, seeing them as inherently flawed, but you were always the exception. You were perfect to him, why couldn’t you see that too?

Not to worry, though. Dottore will never let you hurt yourself again. He’ll gently coax you into letting him take care of your self-inflicted wounds — he is a doctor, after all — and wait patiently for you to explain what’s going on in your mind. If you’re not ready to talk, he can wait. What authority does he have to push the only perfect being into doing something they don’t want to do? But he’ll always remind you that he’s here to listen and fix your problems, no matter what it takes.

NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA

As carefree and fun-loving as Yoimiya is, her demeanor completely shifts when she finds out that you’ve been hurting yourself. She’s heartbroken, to put it simply. Her little spark snuffed themself out. That’s not supposed to happen. She wanted you to be happy and safe, not like this.

Yoimiya decides that the best course of action is to do something to take your mind off of whatever’s troubling you. She’ll have you come play with the kids or design fireworks with her to remind you that you can always do something fun with others. She’ll venture into the most scenic parts of Narukami Island with you to remind you that there is beauty in this world. She’ll plan an elaborate firework display (with the help of her dad, who also loves you) just for you as a reminder of her love.

Yoimiya will make sure that you remember how loved you are. She won’t stop trying to cheer you up until she’s 100% certain that you love yourself as much as she does. Until then, enjoy endless affection from the most beautiful girl in Hanamizaka, the Queen of the Summer Festival. She’ll always be there for you.

KLEE (platonic/familial)

As kind and sympathetic as the little girl was, Klee was far too young to understand what you were going through. You didn’t want to ruin her adorably childish worldview with your grown-up issues. Problems like this made you want to shield Klee from the darkness of the world so she wouldn’t even have to experience them when she grew up.

But things don’t always go according to plan. While coloring with Klee in solitary confinement (as you often did; you couldn’t bear to let her suffer alone in there so you liked to sneak in), she ended up seeing the physical manifestations of your inner turmoil. You fumbled for an answer when she asked where they came from, eventually stating that you had “fought a big, scary monster.” It wasn’t technically a lie. It seemed fair enough to compare your feelings to a monster.

Even if she didn’t quite comprehend the full weight of the situation, Klee was very sweet about it all. She told you to turn away for a bit while she drew “something special for you.” You obliged, happy to let her enjoy her childlike joys while she still had them. You wished you could be as carefree as Klee.

By the end of the day, when you had to leave the solitary confinement room, Klee handed you the finished drawing as a parting gift. It was of you bravely fighting a lawachurl outside of Mondstadt’s front gate, keeping it from wreaking havoc on the city. Klee included your injuries in the drawing, labeling them as “proof that [Name]’s strong.” She’d never know how happy that made you feel. She’d never know that you looked at it every day, keeping it securely framed in your home as a reminder that you could get through this.

[jomamaofficial]

You should have said something: Finale (Bakugou x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLO BESTIES, IT'S YOUR *lmao I just realised I wrote sentimental here instead of CRUSTY here* CRUSTY TOE HERE. Now please, for the love of whoever's up there, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. I'm not going to dawdle along because this was the finale you all were waiting for, so enjoy. Social Media & LinkTree & Discord Server TW: Very gruesome descriptions of: Death, Burning, Heavy cursing, Blood, Abuse. Masterlist Taglist: @spicy-therapist-mom @speedmetalqueen @silentw-lkr @loki-an-idiot @clickbait-official @captainchrisstan @kamalymaly @idk-sam @runrabbitrun3 @power-house-fan12 @mrslawliet @memeingcheetah27 @lonleyweeb77 @midnight-storm Word Count: 1743

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Sirens flooded the scene, police cars blinding passerbys. Ambulances rushed to the location, paramedics pushing their way through the crowd of people, the heat travelling the smell of iron across the streets of Musutafu. Firefighters reached the estate, dragging people away from the hazard, eyes gawking at the uproar of fire. The house was engulfed in flames, crying voices piercing through the ears of those who looked on. Ashes here and ashes there, belongings erupting into soot and red embers.

A body was heaved onto the stretcher, blood staining the white cotton.

“The heart rate is lowering, I repeat the heart rate is lowering.”

The static noise from the walkie talkie was merely another addition to the tumultuous screams and orders.

Wind ran through his hair, panic stricken over the nurse's face who ran as fast as her environment could let her, the heavy but precious, bleeding body straining her arms and staining her hands.

The door was held open, commands being barked at her.

The reporters bombarded her, obstructing the nurse’s view. She shoved past them; her heart hammered in her chest inspecting the monitor, her movements speeding up as she reached her destination. The body was rushed into the ambulance, attached to pipes and machines.

It was the last thing the public saw before the door was shut and the sirens fled away.

Trending headlines and hashtags spread like wildfire.

Masaru switched on the TV, his wife finishing up her dinner in the other room.

“I am now live at the Bakugou-L/N estate. Word from our information team has come out and the fire has been going on for twenty minutes, however these twenty minutes were enough for Prohero Ground Zero to be sent to the emergency room after a local found him covered in burn marks and injuries inside his already smoking house. Prohero Y/HN is nowhere to be found and all forms of contacts have been shut off. I am now handing over to Tanaka-san who is live at the-”

Switched off. Masaru sat there glued to his seat with his fingers pressing on the power button.

-

Hope came crashing down and you could only stare at the broken screen of your phone, tiny glass particles spewed on the floor.

Your skin was boiling up but your blood ran cold. Your throat dried up but your tears were wet. You couldn’t feel anything but his nails, digging in through the layers of clothing you comforted yourself in.

If you could go back in time, you would have. If you could stop yourself from dialing Izuku’s number, you would have. Anything, anything would have been better than this.

Silence. And you still had the urge to cover your ears. There was nothing to look at apart from your only form of communication. Everything else was black. And the traitorous phone that gave you away was dissipating as well. It faded away from your sight, leaving you a wide smile on your face. Too wide. Stretching from one cheek to the other, your lips were quivering, forcing it to stop. But it didn’t stop. It was getting wider and wider and it was hurting but could you stop it? No.

You couldn’t stop anything. Not this marriage, not this moment, not your own body.

He pulled on your hair and you couldn’t even stop the pain. He crushed your face between his hands, searing pressure building up in your skull and you still couldn’t stop him. He shouted and he screamed and it was slowly seeping into your skull how loud he really was. Nothing would stop. You couldn’t stop it.

You were useless. Your shrieks were useless because he drowned them out with his own voice.

His words were barely comprehensible. You could either focus on the warm blood trickling down your hairline, or him.

But that took energy. And right now, trying to stay alive was sucking all of the energy out of you.

“YOU FUCKING BROKE RULE NUMBER THREE, YOU FUCKING WHORE.”

Rule number three spiked your interest. Not because you remembered what it was. It only drew your attention to him amidst all the repeated curses and the names and the agony, ‘rule number three’ was something new.

Why would you understand rule number three though, you couldn’t even understand why you were smiling, giggling underneath your breath.

“And out of all the people you could have gone to”, he sucked in a breath, squeezing your cheeks. He could feel your clenched teeth fighting against the strength of his hold.

“You fucking went to that useless cunt Deku”, Bakugou spat out, a crazed glint in his eyes as he felt your face shake and crumble under his grip.

“Where is he now huh?” he scoffed, a breathy laugh escaping from the depths of his body.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT PATHETIC BITCH NOW?” Screaming once again, he activated his quirk, missing you by a hair. The flames mocked you, free to move, free to grow.

“Is he gonna come and get you now? See your precious ‘Izu-kun’ anywhere?” he derided, smiling at the blackened area his palms left on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY.”

Your tears said it enough, tears that were mixed in with the sweat and blood that dripped from your forehead. All you wanted was someone, someone who would hold you and stroke your head and clean you up. Someone who would take him away from you and let you live in a fantasy where you weren’t wrong anymore.

You apologized in the false anticipation that he would stop, and caress your face and pepper it in small kisses. You apologized in the false anticipation of thinking that’s what he needed all along. Just an apology.

So when he pushed you off of the sofa, your knees igniting in irritantance and bruises, you could only look at him. And when he crouched down in front of you, tilting your chin upwards, your heart almost fluttered at the thought that he would pull you into a kiss. A warm kiss where you would feel at home and feel loved.

The sad part was that you knew that you would forgive him if he kissed you once.

But the worst part was that you knew this would never happen. And it didn’t. But you were happy to live in your delusion. Because your delusion masked the sheer force at which he defiled your body.

The lethal blaze mirrored the lethal blaze that ignited his eyes. And this was the last time you’d ever see such hate, and animosity in them.

With your hands shielding you too late, all you saw was a blinding light shining through you, filling every crevice in your body with a scorching glow. But then it was extinguished by the darkness.

Alarms were going off in your head, telling you to breathe quickly and panic and scream and reach out and find something to see. And you did. And it entertained him.

So small and so vulnerable, scrambling around beneath him to try and escape. But he had you under his grip. And he wasn’t going to let you go until you remained lifeless under him.

Smoke infiltrated your lungs, forcing you to flail and writhe on all fours. You were heaving, trying oh so very hard to breathe in the oxygen that limitlessly surrounded you.

But you were useless. And you couldn’t breathe to save your life.

Coughing and slobbering, kneeling in front of him, you begged.

“Please, forgive me.”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I didn’t mean to.”

“PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE JUST MAKE IT STOP.”

The fumes were stabbing at your throat, filling your head with fog.

And your world was running slowly. The noise was slowed, darker and deeper, slurred beyond understanding. The agony was slow; equally as painful, but slow. It gave you little breaks in between to piece everything together, bit by bit.

Growing up, your world was black and white: heroes were benevolent, there to serve the society and protect them whereas villains were malevolent, there to wreck the balance of society and harm them as they pleased.

Growing up, the first people you relied on were heroes. Even as the Number 3 Hero, Y/HN, you relied on your colleagues who worked day and night to ensure the safety of the country you served.

Maybe that was your downfall. Blindly trusting heroes as if they were some sort of untouchable deities who could never harm. Because here you were, taking the last few breaths with your world spinning around you and being snatched away from you.

And it wasn’t at the hands of a villain that you were dying. It was at the hands of your so-called superior, the Number 2 Hero: Ground Zero.

Ground Zero; the hero who everyone respected but feared. His snarl, his anger, his drive. The very hero who was found in every treacherous battlefield. He was the same hero who took on anything he found that threatened the life of the citizens he made his duty to protect from harm's way.

But who would take him on when he caused harm to you?

No one.

It wasn’t the smoke, or the burns, or the bleeding that caused you to take your last breath. It was the realization that no one would save you.

-

The pulse under Katsuki’s fingers diminished until it was nothing. And he cried. Veins standing out in livid ridges, his eyes seared in rage as they watered and dripped down his face, cooling his body in the circle of fire he put himself in.

If he wasn’t trained to suck his guilt up every time his hands were responsible for someone’s downfall, he would have been consumed in his own self loath…

But what was the point of feeling guilty when you deserved it?

It was because of you Eijiro broke up with him. And he internally promised himself he would always stand by this.

Blinking away his tears, he channeled all the remaining energy he had, letting his anger flow through out of his body.

His wrists were giving in but he swore it was the final time. Just one more blow. One more big blow.

Silencing his cries underneath the deafening roar of his explosions, he clenched his jaw, pressuring his body on and on.

No one would find you now. No one would know.

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

Fave 1D fics?

Hello! This was very fun to put together and I really enjoyed my journey down memory lane in doing so🤗 Full disclosure, this list is all fics from 2016 or earlier bc I stopped regularly reading fic around then, but these are my very favorites. These are all either AO3 or PDF links because some have been deleted, and I'm sure I'm missing some (it's hard to keep track when so many have been deleted and my AO3 bookmarks are not as comprehensive as they could be). Happy reading, friend!

Wear It Like A Crown (zarah5, 141k, E): The first fic I ever read in this fandom and it remains my very favorite to this day! Royalty AU in which Louis is part of a team of PR fixers hired by the royal family to spin a photo of Prince Harry getting some with his bestie, Zayn. Enemies (ish) to friends to lovers, grand gestures, tragic backstory, and remarkably well-written communication issues. Zarah is one of the most beloved fandom authors and has written some classics, but this one is my personal favorite.

These Inconvenient Fireworks (mdasch & everydaysalike, 190k, E): The OG fandom classic for a reason. Louis is a drama teacher and Harry, an aspiring photographer, starts coaching soccer football at the same school part-time. Friends with benefits ensue, but there's a lot of angst as they try to figure out what the fuck they're doing and what they really are to each other. Major OT5 feels, funny as hell, heartbreaking - it's everything you want in a fic.

Allies in Heaven, Comrades in Hell (rockinaintnowalkinthepark, 265k, E): Catholic school AU. God, this one just punches you in the dick. I love it so fucking much. Louis and Harry are classmates and Louis realizes he's really into Harry. Unfortunately, his father is violently homophobic, and when he and Harry get together, he's terrified of the possible consequences. Major warnings for violence and homophobia, so if that's not your cup of tea you might want to stay away. I however am a sucker for angst with a happy ending and this fic delivers.

And Down the Long and Silent Street (whimsicule, 89k, M): THIS! FIC! God. I love it so much. Historical AU - Victorian England. Louis is selling newspapers on the London streets when he crosses paths with Harry, a wealthy young gentleman. They start an affair and fall in love, but unfortunately, a serial killer on the London streets is targeting poor young men - in particular, as it turns out, Louis - which complicates things. Plotty, heavy on the hurt/comfort, and keeps you on the very edge of your seat. I reread this one all the time.

Pull Me Under (zarah5, 140k, E): Another Zarah fic and also incredible. This one features Louis as a professional footballer trying to navigate coming out. Liam is Louis' agent, who suggests he be in a long-term relationship to ease the coming out process. Luckily, Liam's boyfriend Zayn has a friend named Harry who'd be perfect as the fake boyfriend. Fake relationship ensues. Beautifully written, also a classic.

Butterfly Gun (eravain, 100k, M): 1940s AU, set around WWII. In 1940, Harry and Gemma were evacuated from London to stay at the Tomlinson farm. Harry and Louis become friends, but as they grow up and learn more about themselves, there's the possibility for something more - except Louis' grandpa is a dick. Harry and Gemma are sent to another home to stay, and after the war, Harry goes back to see Louis in an attempt to rekindle their relationship and see what's actually there. Beautifully written and clenches your heart in the best way.

Coax the Cold (mediawhore, 86k, M): Another Victorian AU, this one featuring professor!Louis, whose focus on the supernatural has resulted in professional ridicule. He stumbles across ads for a circus sideshow that supposedly has a mermaid, so he goes undercover as an employee to obtain proof of the mermaid's existence. He definitely obtains proof, but his goal shifts as he gets to know said mermaid (Harry, obviously) and instead of proving his existence, he needs to free him and keep his secret to protect him.

College AU series (whoknows, 75k, E): This is a two-fic series that's just fun. In part 1, Harry and Louis are in an epic prank war - well, at least Louis is engaged in a prank war, while Harry calmly retaliates. Louis is a fucking menace in this one which I just adore. Dialogue is NEXT LEVEL. Friends with benefits (or at least, that's what Louis thinks it is) that (obviously) becomes a relationship (which is what Harry has thought it was the whole time). The last scene (before the epilogue) is one of my favorites in any fic. Part 2 is pretty much more of the same - sex, banter, and planning for the future.

Give Me Truths (iwillpaintasongforlou, 110k, E): This fic HAS. IT. ALL. College AU! Hurt/comfort! Punk, confident, psych major Louis! Sad Harry! I just! Love it! In this fic, Harry is in an abusive relationship and Louis helps him gather the strength to leave his abuser. In the process, they end up falling in love, and Louis helps Harry regain his confidence and self-esteem. I love this one especially because it was written at a time when the common fic trope was that Louis hates himself and Harry is the manic pixie dream girl who makes it better, so the role reversal in this fic was very refreshing. But it's also just such a good story and so well-written. (And again. PUNK LOUIS.)

Relief Next to Me (dolce_piccante, 333k, E): Okay. This fic is a MONSTER. It's really just 333k words of slice of life as baker!Harry and graphic designer!Louis become friends with benefits and then fall in love. I read this as a WIP (which I rarely do) just because there's barely a plot, they're just having a great time living life and having sex. Chapter 17 in particular is my comfort reread, I just love it SO MUCH.

Love Is a Word, You Gave It a Name (hattalove, 21k, T): Pure fluff, canon compliant. It's Christmas time and the boys are celebrating with their families and each other and getting ready to take a major step in their relationship - that is, publicly coming out. OT5 and family feels all over the place. This fic just gives you such warm and fuzzy feelings and I always smile the whole way through reading it. Also features a reunion with Louis' infamous geography teacher and also him being jealous of Ed Sheeran's cat.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose (dolce_piccante, 113k, E): College AU in which Harry is an (American) football star for a Texas university and Louis is a dancer at the same school. In everyone's favorite 90s teen flick trope, Harry's friends bet that he can't get Louis to fall in love with him. You can guess how this plays out. It's very fun and especially good to reread during college football season.

[burnedbyshoto]

a brush of luck

— In a world where soulmates exist you can communicate yours with a brush of a pen. It just doesn’t help that you are a certified idiot with a skill in misplacing things. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, cursing

word count: 4,229

a/n: this is for the bnaharem collab and I was super horrible and was not ready and i just woke up and threw this together please dont hate me uhuhuhuhhh see the masterlist here!!!

message to join my tag list!

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“Hey, y/l/n, you forget this!”

Your hair was falling into your face, your face flustered, and your binders filled with paper seemed to be liquid as they slowly fell to the ground.

Kaminari stood behind you when you turned around. His lips were picked into a kind smile. It was a teasing one too by the small glint in his eyes while he held onto your backpack and phone. A look of self-realized stupidity washed over your face when your head threw back into a groan. How stupid were you, really?

“I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, throwing your things onto the nearest desk. You felt the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment when Kaminari helped you slip on your backpack and pocketed your phone in the jacket pocket. “I swear I’m the most forgetful person in the world.”

“Well, you do really clinch the title of the person who would forget their head if it wasn’t on their shoulders.”

Snorting, you shoved him with your shoulder, and he helped you regather your things with a low groan.

“Let’s see the tattoo,” you grin, ready to head out once again. Groaning loudly, Kaminari didn’t seem to want to give in to your demand, but still, with a twitch of his eye and a shove of his sleeve, he showed off his arm. “You know what, I’m going to say it—”

“I’m going to say it, I don’t care that you broke your elbows,” Kaminari finishes the phrase with you with a snort.

“Do you think it’s the first thing out of their mouth or matching tattoo?” you asked curiously when you blond best friend also prepped to leave the classroom for the day. 

“I hope its the first thing out of their mouth, imagine how fucking ultra sexy foxy hot that would be,” Kaminari moaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his eyes at the thought. Gagging at the visual horniness of that thought, you walked away, grinning at the way that Kaminari stumbled over his feet to catch up with you.

This was the world you lived in, the world of soulmates.

You weren’t sure when they had first started, but you know that it wasn’t always a phenomenon that was around. When you roamed the internet looking at old, old stories on soulmates, these theories, these worlds were built on one single concept.

They wrote about a world of black and white for everyone until that fateful moment, or matching tattoos for everyone. But no, this world was much more complicated, much more detailed. Yes, in the world there were a lot of theories that ended up being true, but the thing they didn’t see coming was that every couple — every polyamorous relationship consisted of a unique theme.

Kaminari’s soulmate was linked with tattoo’s, and the purpose behind said symbol was unknown, unheard of until he met them. Yours, as you could guess and know, was also different. Pressing your fingers against the pen that sat on the inside pocket of your uniform jacket, you smiled when Kaminari’s arm was thrown around you.

“At least you’ve never lost or forgotten that pen of yours, that would be dangerous!”

“I promise I will never ever forget it.”

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You sat on your bed nearing midnight. You were cocooned into your blankets flipping through your Hero Lawbook that you were supposed to have read months ago, but now finally was. Humming to yourself, you read through the apparent laws and the not so evident laws.

For instance, there is a law that Pro Heroes are not allowed to eat off the edge of buildings anymore! American transfer students had littered so much it became a law!

Snorting to yourself, you flipped the page.

But something warm pressed into your forearm, the most heated energy that sent shivers down your spine. It was comforting as it was ethereal. The second your body recognized the feeling, the Hero Lawbook went soaring across the room, and you grabbed your pen that was waiting at your side for ages now. 

Hi, sorry I’m just able to get back to you. I had a bunch of homework and friends who just let me leave them.

Smiling to yourself, you twirled the pen in your fingers and scribbled down your response:

It’s all good, I’ve been studying this entire time too, was just bored and didn’t respond to you earlier today!

Your soulmate theme was straightforward and quite comprehensive — it was dubbed the Forearm and Pen theme (you hated that theme). You could communicate with your soulmate by writing with the pen on your arm, but it only worked with that pen, nothing else.

The year you were to turn sixteen, you received a pen from literally out of the blue. You remember celebrating New Year with your class in your first year at U.A.; it had been an enjoyable night! Everything in life was still going fantastic, and your class was finally past the excellent friend’s point and felt like a genuine family. You remember hugging and telling everyone good night, still being fifteen at that point, and stumbling back to your room exhausted.

When you had gotten back to your room, you didn’t even undress; simply tugging off your pants and removing your bra, you threw yourself onto the bed. But you had landed on something stiff and painful, groaning your hands shuffled for whatever it was that you fell on, and when you grabbed it, you froze at the sight of the white box. 

Was this a gift?

Your entire life, you had always wondered if you did have a soulmate, most people you knew after all had soulmate markers that appeared since birth. But you were perfectly normal. You saw all colors; you had no shared pain; there was no tattoo, no mind link, no dream meetings.

Nothing.

You were normal.

Sighing, you opened the box, hoping that it was from someone you at the very least respected.

Inside was a silver pen.

You blinked your eyes rapidly, unsure of what you were looking at, there were no initials, no engraving, nothing. 

It was an exquisite pen, and despite what you thought, it was very, very light. Frowning, your fingers pushed down on the pen, but there was nothing that came out, was there no ink?

Shrugging, you dragged it against your arm feeling the way that the cool tip delicately massaged your arm. It felt nice.

“Holy shit!”

Your eyes saw the pretty grey silvery ink on your forearm. It stood out against your skin, the ink appearing nowhere else but your arm, and then it hit you.

This was for your soulmate!

With excitement tearing through you, your exhaustion no longer bitting on your skull, but the overwhelming need to know that this was for your soulmate shook you awake. Twirling the pen in your fingers, you couldn’t help but start writing.

OMG HI

You sat there staring at your forearm, unsure as to what to do next. What do you do next?

Hey?

If your heart could be anywhere but your chest, you were nearly positive it existed within your throat at this very moment. This was nervewracking, holy shit.

Sorry, you don’t know me, but I’m ___ ___.

You frowned when you tried to write your name, it was stopping you.

It seems that we do have some rules to this entire thing.

They responded back to you, and as if they could hear you, you groaned loudly.

This soulmate shit was already stopping your excitement, it seemed.

From that very first night, the two of you were able to discover a few things. First off, anything too personal was not allowed to be written out. So names, location, and gender were the biggest ones. Birthdays were not, and you were quick to find out that both of you were still fifteen. Second of all, just because you couldn’t figure out where exactly you both were located, you did manage to put together that you were both in Japan. Third of all, your soulmate was a Hero in Training just like you and was a male. Last, of all, you were quick to realize that you were in love with the way your body felt like it was gently warming up whenever he messaged you.

I think I deserve a round of applause.

You grinned after writing your sentence, your eyes watching while the warmth filled your body and his writing slowly appearing on your forearm.

Did you not forget anything today? I find that hard to believe.

You had to suppress a scream.

WELL, IT HAPPENED! I GOT EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO BRING BACK TO MY ROOM WITH ME!!

Weren’t you the one who forgot to bring your entire backpack to school the other day?

NO! I said I almost did, but my bestie got it for me!

How do you forget everything? I think you should try to make a list to make sure that you always have things you need for the day.

... I do… but I always lose the list, and im always running late…

You’re the worst…

Congrats bbg, I’m your soulmate

The world really doesn’t want to bless me with a good life, it seems…

HEY, THAT’S MEAN!

The two of you banter for what seems like hours, the night sky fading from blackness to the deep blue of the sky right before the sunrise. You had spent the entire night curled into your pillow, your face shoved into the soft fabric to suppress your chortling snorts because you geniunely enjoyed interacting with your soulmate. But it was late, and you both had classes early that next morning.

Okay, asshole, I need to sleep! I got this stupid test tomorrow that I did not study for. I'll write to ya tomorrow!! Goodnight!!!

Don’t be rude to your soulmate :( but goodnight, and good luck on that test, sorry for keeping you up.

Smiling at his words, you put the pen to your forearm one last time.

I will never ever accept your apology for making me stay up, I love talking with you, goodnight soulmate, sweet dreams.

You placed the pen down, your eyes fluttering close, heavy with sleep. But still, no exhaustion could suppress the fluttering warmth in your body when words appeared on your arm. 

Sweet dreams, soulmate.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Fuck, sorry,” you groaned when you sleepily slammed into the person standing in front of you. 

Blinking tiredness away from your eyes — poorly at that too — you focused up at Shouto. Grinning, you waved at your classmate, who looked almost as exhausted as you felt and definitely looked.

“It’s okay,” he nodded at you stepping to the side so that the two of you could walk side to side.

“You ready for that test today?” you asked after moments of silence.

You and Todoroki Shouto were not as close as you would like to be. Since day one, you had always had a thing for the duality of a man, and while it was mostly superficial feelings derived from the fact that he was attractive above anything else, it still made you awkward around him. At the time, your feelings were still holding you down, you always fully believed that you had no soulmate, so you thought maybe you could sweep him off his feet. It was rumored that his scar covered up his own soulmate mark, so there was no way for him to know who his soulmate was.

Selfishly and embarrassingly, you hoped that you could have him.

Then you met your soulmate, and things changed.

But now you and your classmates were all eighteen and held the world in your hands, yet you couldn’t speak to him usually still.

“There’s no test today?” Shouto stilled, his eyes narrowing in confusion, and your eyes screwed too.

“Isn’t it… Friday? We have a Hero Law test?”

“Y/l/n,” Shouto snorted a grin spreading across his features, “It’s Wednesday.”

If there was a god, he would shoot you right now.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment while you walked faster to the classroom, Shouto keeping up with your pace easily, he was taller than you after all.

“Shut up,” you warned, your gaze not reaching Shouto’s who was staring at you.

“I wasn’t speaking.”

“I could hear you thinking!”

Shouto put on a smirk, his eyes teasing you, and his mouth dropping to speak, but there was a loud interruption.

“Y/L/N-CHAAAANNNNNN!!!!”

Both of you turned to see Kaminari chasing after you, his arms waving, looking out of breath.

“YOU FORGOT YOUR JACKET AND TIE!”

Shouto chuckled beside you, and you stared down to see that you were, in fact, only wearing half of your uniform. If there’s a god, he will end you now, you thought.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You're not serious right now, are you?

Going on three years of knowing your soulmate, or at the very least talking with him, you thought you had a good understanding of who he was. He was strong, powerful, and kind. He came off a bit standoffish at times but was the dumbest person you’ve ever known. Common sense was not his friend, and that was okay. 

Even at times when the two of you had your differing opinions because it did happen, it never snowballed more into a small annoyance that the two of you would apologize for and move on. But this was something that shouldn’t have had become a fight, it shouldn’t have been anything more potent than a difference of opinion, but when you suggested entertaining the thought of when the two of you would finally meet, he was uncharacteristically cold. 

Hurt by his tone, you told him, and he said you to grow up until it became this written fight.

Why couldn’t you talk about meeting?

Why didn’t he want to think about what would happen when the two of you would meet?

It was getting ugly for no reason, a fight just to fight, and it was making you nauseous.

But he crossed a line that couldn’t be fixed when he wrote a simple sentence:

Just because you’re my soulmate doesn’t mean I have to love you, meet you, or marry you.

So there you sat, your bottom lip trembling with tears streaking down your blotchy face. He wasn’t being serious, was he? There was no way… no fucking way this was him. The warmth that flooded your body with his new message felt ice-cold, poisoning you from the inside out while you read it.

You're my soulmate, but I have no obligation to do anything with you now or ever. The world chose you for me, not me. I didn’t choose you. I don’t owe you anything here. Soulmates are bullshit and don’t fucking bother messaging me again if you expect me to fall in love with you just because our “souls are connected”

It was needless to say that you didn’t respond back, not because you felt like he should love you because of your connected souls, but because your sobbing and broken emotions left you curled into a ball, ready for a sleepless slumber to take you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“You don’t look too hot,” Kaminari told you, hitting you with his foot when your bleary and puffy eyes stared at your best friend.

Kirishima and Mina, who were sitting beside him, elbowed him at the same time, berating him for his insensitive comment. You could feel Sero and Bakugou staring at you, their eyes concerned and curious. 

“What’s eating ya up?” Sero asked, and you found a rock-forming in your throat when you shrugged.

“Soulmate problems…”

“That was fucking obvious,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, taking a drink of his water. “Tell us the problem, not a stupid summary.”

Surprisingly that’s all it took for you to come undone, and you explained what happened with tears falling down your face and a sniffling nose. There was a lot to tell them about it, and you showed them the pen while explaining the entire story. They listened to every word you uttered, faces concern but taking in everything you said.

“You’re an idiot,” Bakugou spoke the second you were finished, his eye twitching while he glared at you. You swallowed thickly, placing the pen on the table while Bakugou edged closer towards you. “He’s not wrong, you know, stupid fucking soulmates are just this irrational solution to an irrational problem. Love is much more complex than that, and you don’t seem to have been fighting for him in that way either, sure you seem like good friends, but that doesn’t give you the right to expect him to love you. But he was a complete fucking dick about it, so I say kill him.”

Your — and all of the rest of your friend group �� eyes widened at his words. With nothing to follow him up, you all continued to stare at him while he munched on his food.

“WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING EXTRAS LOOKING AT!”

“Is Bakugou a love expert?” Mina’s stage whispered to the group.

“He almost was, but then he said to kill y/n’s soulmate, so probably not anymore,” Kirishima responded back.

“SHUT THE HELL UP BEFORE I KILL YOU!”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It took four days before the warm feeling shot through your body again.

Fuck, I'm really sorry, I was a complete fucking dick. I said a lot of things, and i didn’t mean to say I was angry and upset, and I know that you're upset, rightfully upset, but i don’t want to lose you.

No matter how long it took for him to get back to you, your heart squeezed with euphoria and poison, your hands moving to grab your pen in your pocket.

It wasn’t there.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

You tore apart your room, trying to find the silver pen but you couldn’t find it.

Stay as mad as you want, I just… please talk with me soon, even if it takes five days. I'm sorry, soulmate.

Frustrated tears poured down your face, nausea almost making you wheeze when you stared at the words you wanted to reply to.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

One day after he apologized:

Don’t want to bother you, just wanted to apologize again and say that I miss you, talk to you soon.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Five days after he apologized:

I’m not really sure if this is normal or not… I'm not really… educated when it comes to romance and shit like that, especially when it comes to someone being upset with the other… my female classmates told me that I should expect a response from you soon. I'm really sorry, please write soon.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

So it seems that i’ve fucked up to the point of no return. I'm sorry, I miss you, I love you. Maybe one day I can reconvince you that I'm your soulmate for a good reason, but I guess I’ll have to work on that.

It had been fourteen days since he had apologized, and you sat in your room with tears streaming down your face. You wanted to respond back, but even fourteen days of tirelessly searching U.A.’s entire campus, ripping it stone by stone, there was no finding your pen. Every day without fail, he gave you an update of his day and another apology. Every day they got more hopeless, more pained.

This was his last message for a while, he needed time to work things out with himself now, the strain of this and graduation coming soon being too much to handle at the moment. 

Wiping your tears for what felt like the hundredth time within this past twenty minutes, you stood up on your wobbly legs to go downstairs for water. You were dehydrated and absolutely needed to get out for both fresh air and water.

Walking down the stairwell with swollen eyes, you groaned when you slammed into a body when you opened the door to the common area. 

Shouto blinked down at you, and you felt your throat clampdown at the pained look in his own eyes.

“Have you been—”

“Are you—”

You both spoke over each other, and despite the horrid feeling coursing through your bones, you cracked a smile.

“I’m getting water,” you explained with a shrug. “Long night ya know, just needed to replenish my system so I can cry some more.”

Shouto stared at you, and with horror, you realized precisely what you had said.

“Oh my god, ignore me!” you squeak, covering your face trying to move past him, but Shouto seemed to be curious now and followed after you.

“What’s making you cry?” he asked while you rush to the fridge to get your glass of water.

“What’s got you upset?” you counter downing the cup of water.

Shouto sighed, leaning against the counter of the island in the kitchen. “Would it be weird to say its soulmate issues?”

Swallowing the water in your mouth, you shook your head, a tired smile on your face, “Embarrassingly enough, my issue is also with soulmate stuff.”

A joyless chuckle escaped his mouth, and Shouto’s head tilted backward. You studied his jaw and the way his body seemed tense, too tense.

“What happened?” you press gently standing next to him, shouldering him gently.

“I fucked up, and now my soulmate won’t talk with me,” he says slowly, his head nodding while he glances at you. “I guess telling your soulmate you don’t want them is a bad thing.”

You snorted, nodding your head in agreement, “It’s not just a bad thing, its a super fucked up thing.”

Shouto sighed in agreement, and there was silence when you took another drink of your water.

“I didn’t know you were in contact with your soulmate, though,” you smile wistfully, your hand twirling the cup on the counter. “How’d you meet them?”

“I actually don’t know who they are,” Shouto admitted with pursed lips, and your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “I have that soulmate thing where you write on your arm, and they can read it.”

Showing off his arm, you glanced at the pale skin. You nodded your head when he pulled out a silver pen that looked similar to yours.

“Well,” you shrug your shoulders, motioning him to write. “I’m no expert, but let’s see if I can help you get your soulmate to forgive you.”

“T-They haven’t responded to me in two weeks…” Shouto’s voice cracks, and the number burns a hole through your stomach. “I’ve written every day, but no answer. I don’t really know what to do, and all the girls in the class don’t really know what to do. Bakugou also said to go fuck myself over it, so I don’t think I really have had any help.”

Ignoring the twisting in your stomach, you willed your weirdness away to shuffle in your seat, “Well, you haven’t asked me, asshole, come on, let’s see what I can do.”

Shouto chuckles, his head nodding, “That is true, but to be fair, you’ve been anywhere, but in the dorm these past few weeks.”

“I lost something,” you mutter embarrassed, but you shake away your problems and point at his wrist. “Write an apology.”

You watched when he wrote, the words expressing his apology and love seeping through the silvery ink on his wrist. You told him to add things to delete things, but in the end, it ended up feeling like a genuine and sincere apology. You watched his pen leave his skin and a warmth shot through your arm. 

Shivering, you looked at your arm, trying to see what your soulmate had written to you even though he said he was going to stop.

The words he wrote appeared on your skin.

Your eyes widened when you stared at Shouto, who was also staring at your arm. 

Your eyes met in an almost world-altering way. This entire time, for three whole years, the two of you had been by each other and never knew. Midnight conversations wasted through ink instead of face to face. Your heart hammered in your throat, and tears once again poured from your eyes when you both stood at full height, staring at each other.

Todoroki Shouto was your soulmate — he was yours, and you were his.

“I’m so sorry, y/n, I don’t know what happened to me. You didn’t deserve that, and fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“I lost my pen, and I couldn’t respond back, I forgave you, but I had no way of reaching back! But I was always forcing myself onto you—”

You both interrupted the other, and now you stared at each other, drinking in the presence of each other and belittling yourselves for not knowing sooner; looking at it now, it was just so obvious. You can’t help it and pull him into a hug. His strong arms wrap around you, and you can hear his hammering heart on your ear, and it fills you up with the familiar warmth when he writes you. This seemed to be a brush of luck it seems.

“Can I kiss you, soulmate.”

“Please do.”

[xoruffitup]

Burn This First Preview: 3/15 Show Report

OKAY it’s 3 AM and I’m writing this on my phone so the format might be weird, but I have SO MANY thoughts and feels from tonight I’ve got to let the tidal wave out!! 

First off - Yes, he looked gorgeous at stage door and he was so kind trying to sign for everyone he could! (The line was longggg.) I GOT HIS AUTOGRAPH AND THANKED HIM FOR SUCH A MOVING PERFORMANCE AND HE SAID “OH THANK YOU VERY MUCH” AND LOOKED UP AT ME WITH HIS GORGEOUS EYES AND GORGEOUS FACE AND THERE IS A PIC OF THIS MOMENT THAT WILL FOREVER LIVE IN MY HEART:

This is my new OTP, folks: Adam/The back of my head!

I attempted to ask for a pic but was hesitant and security had already half pulled him away so he was like “I don’t know if I’ll have time” sounding so nervous about getting to the whole line. BABY <333

Aksjsknsm I can’t believe I was this close to him - It hasn’t fully set in and omg I better just keep writing before it does set in and I lose my shit completely!

Play Highlights! (This list is Plot-Spoiler free.)

Alas, sadly there is not that much nakedness. He takes his pants off in Act 1 but has underwear and a long shirt on. The BEST is when he comes on wearing one of Keri/Anna’s kimono-style purple silk robes in Act 2 - I nearly DIED and cannot believe I saw that with my own eyes!! When he first steps onstage the robe’s open and he’s only wearing underwear so you get a nice chest glimpse, but then he sadly ties it. (Then proceeds to hilariously struggle with getting one of his arms through the complicated sleeves.) Oh, and did I mention the robe was paired with knee-high socks?

Adam is HYSTERICAL. He doesn’t come on stage for about the first twenty minutes, but when he did, it took all of 5 minutes for the audience to be in the palm of his hand, laughing at every other word he said. His delivery of all of Pale’s curse-laden, barely-logical rants and complaints is just masterful in comedic timing and effect. He’s a literal hurricane when he enters the show, flooding the stage with this frenetic, chaotic energy so intense he’s practically vibrating. He keeps everything at break neck pace, through 0-100 highs and lows where he’s bitching about parking one second, then animal-wail crying the next.

His character’s not likeable. Really, this is a testament and praise to Adam’s acting. After his first couple minutes on stage, there were stretches when I literally forgot it was him. When I was so taken in and then repulsed by this character in turns, his acting prowess overcame even my instinct to love him and everything he does on sight. I’m about to get deeper into the weeds on his character in the next section, but suffice it to say Adam’s performance is stellar and completely, convincingly transformative.

How heated does it get? The only intimate scene that happens in front of the audience includes some slow kissing, a bit down Keri/Anna’s neck, and wandering hands. The rest is implied off stage.

The play is set in the 80s, so while Keri looks KILLER in every single outfit, Adam’s suits are all big and baggy as was the style then and they’re not exactly flattering. His costume look is just a bit weird, not nearly as smolderingly hot as how they styled him in the promo pics. But even with that said.... The scene where they’re both close on the couch, talking softly before kissing happens? I would have still gone for him too. ;_;

The rest of this report is going to dive into and attempt to untangle some of the deeper elements and themes of the play. Stop reading here if you’re avoiding spoilers!

To my perspective, this wasn’t really a play about a smoldering, ill-advised love affair. Yes, that’s the main event, but this play is about so much more.

Anna and Pale are star-crossed lovers. No, not in the Disney or destined interpretation - I mean the proper, tragic meaning. Whatever is between them should not exist. Whatever is between them threatens and harms them both. Whatever is between them is not long for this world, and doesn’t belong in it.

But why doesn’t it belong? Sure, there are the technical, superficial reasons: Anna has a boyfriend; Pale is married with kids (though technically separated); They are polar opposite people - Sharing no visible common interests and with temperaments that couldn’t be more opposite.

What is the one thing stronger than all of that, which first brings them together? Their grief; Their shared (yet deeply personal and divergently different) senses of grief; The solace and understanding they can only find for that grief with each other. The loss they’ve both experienced is life-changing, and has no place to fit into or even exist at all in their normal lives.

And so, they hurtle into an affair that also has no place existing in their normal lives. By the end of the play, they both assert “I don’t want this.” To a certain degree, it’s the truth. It’s unlikely either of them would have willfully chosen to pursue the other, had they met under different circumstances. They would likely never have opened or even tapped at the floodgates of their attraction, unless they had both gravitated towards this dark, abnormal part of life outside the realm of everyday lives, jobs, rational behavior, and decisions.

To me, this play was really about confronting that abnormal, primal, and sometimes unfathomable level of being that exists below the everyday. Pale has a memorable remark about all the little lies people live with and show to the world each day. Sometimes - when it is cut open and its value or sense thrown into question by some great tragedy such as a loss like this - you lose touch with that everyday life and the person you think you are within that everyday world. It becomes painfully juxtaposed and shrunk tiny, in the face of something all-encompassing and all-powerful, like grief. It becomes exposed as paper thin; Everything within it questionable and perhaps useless.

There is something of the profound in an emotion like grief. When it’s shared with someone, it’s no wonder that that also unlocks some profound connection. Anna and Pale don’t like each other as people, and they certainly take no enjoyment in the grief that brought them together. Yet, the relationship that blooms from it contains a compulsion and truth neither of them can deny. Even though they “don’t want this” (the rational, everyday side of their minds talking), they both admit they’ve never felt anything like it before, and they keep finding themselves drawn together. They don’t want to want each other - It’s painful and frightening for both of them, and yet their attraction wraps them both just as completely as their grief.

Anna’s boyfriend Burton is the epitome of the everyday. He earns a lot of money, he’s a well-dressed gentleman. He’s a writer, and fancies he can capture and portray the entire spectrum of human emotion. Even “great love,” as he fumblingly attempts to describe towards the play’s beginning. Yet all his talk is vapid and empty; As is his relationship with Anna. Theirs is one of the everyday, rational variety. It belongs with the small lies we live with and put on and speak and perform each day - To keep our lives square and tidy and comprehensible.

Then - There’s the chaotic, unpredictable, bordering violent being of Pale. He is every sincere, larger-than-life emotion and base instinct most people tamp down and deny voice to. He represents the terrible, uncontrollable, threatening Truth of everyday masks, dark desires, and empty identities of performativity.

Their attraction is not something Anna can bear to look in the face. She throws Pale out and ends the relationship because that deeper truth of true emotion unlocked by her grief cannot coexist with her reality. Her ability to continue dancing, to continue the everyday life she’s trying so hard to believe in and trust the purpose of - It cannot contain Pale. He represents and unlocks profound, unknown feeling that casts the waking world as a shadow.

And yet for all that discomfort, she has an artistic breakthrough after the affair with Pale. She is inspired to finally choreograph Robbie’s final send-off piece. And with Anna, Pale unlocked a part of himself that was calm, gentle, and soothed - A version of himself totally incongruous with his own reality and the identity he wears. Both of them are changed through their journey together through the Profound. It is a deeply uncomfortable, destabilizing place that neither of them wish to remain in. And yet its power is undeniable; Its impact unforgettable. The very experience of it is something they seek comfort for and can only find from each other.

Is it better to tell little lies each day so the world will make sense? So you can understand exactly who’s looking back at you in the mirror, and the quotidian will shade your perception of the invisible and unfathomable depths of human experience? So everything will remain neat and in control?

Or - Does it give meaning to abandon control? To surrender to grief and undesired passion, for the sake of a reality that is uncompromisingly, viscerally, heartbreakingly genuine? The harsh, infinite light all the rest of life seems to be constructed to blot from our eyes?

I really hope that as more people see the play, people will start posting their interpretations as well! I would love some good analysis dialogues! In the meantime, I will now slide right back into flaily, trash fangirl mode.... Thank you for reading all this, if you got this far! Go see this marvelous, haunting play if you’re able!!

All the love to my fangirl besties!!! @reylonly Thanks for making it an amazing night! :’)))

[adrianfridge]

Jackson is a closeted bisexual

Jackson Whittemore exists in a world where there’s no homophobia (by Word of God). His best friend is openly gay, and everyone’s chill with gay/mixed clubs. Gay is as normal as straight. [Ironic considering Colton Haynes was forced to become closeted during his two seasons of Teen Wolf.]

So let’s examine what made Jackson bisexual before the s6 cameo retcon and why he’d be in the closet within this gay-accepting world.

Were there signs before s6 that Jackson is bisexual?

I would argue Yes.

“I’m everyone’s type.”

The infamous words of a narcissist. But also the words of someone who may be open to getting it on with more than one gender.

To put this phrase into context, Jackson is telling Danny (his gay best friend) that he must be Danny’s type because he’s everyone’s type. In the same vein, Stiles, who a lot of people read as bisexual, has a similar interaction with Danny, though with far less self-esteem:

“Do you [Danny] find me attractive?”

We could probably discuss the homophobic microaggression of supposedly-straight men constantly questioning whether gay guys are into them, but that’s beyond this post. Instead, let’s try to read these interactions as Jackson, and Stiles, seeking validation in being able to get with men through a guy who always gets with men.

To further expand on Jackson liking more than one gender, we have a moment in Heart Monitor where a sickly Jackson, who’d just come from having a horrifying hallucination of a werewolf claws coming out of his mouth, greeting Allison in the hallway. During their exchange, he says:

“I really like you [Allison]... and Scott. I really, I really like you both, and I want you guys to like me.”

You could say Jackson’s just being loopy and/or manipulative, but you could also say the sickness has lowered his inhibitions, making him capable of expressing exactly why he’s upset at Scott (he feels something’s been stolen from him) and that he actually like likes Allison *and* Scott--and wants them to like him--in spite of his aggressions.

Then there’s this gem:

On one hand, Jackson’s being possessed by Matt during his dance with Erica and Isaac, so it’s hard to say where his head is when he looks at Isaac. But on the other, since we see Jackson use “we” later on in the scene, there’s clearly a part of himself still somewhere in there... that’s not afraid to look Isaac in the eye while grinding it up.

So why wouldn’t Jackson be out about liking men if everyone is fine with Danny being gay? 

Well, there’s this thing called biphobia. It’s different from homophobia. 

Stiles: “You swing for a different team but you still play ball, don’t you Danny boy?”

Biphobia is assuming there are two teams (liking men vs liking women) and you should only be playing for one of them. Therefore, the idea of liking men *and* women is akin to playing both sides, aka cheating the system. 

For example, here's a biphobic view of a bisexual man- If you’re with a woman, you’re straight. If you’re with a man, you’re gay. If you used to be with women but you’re now with a man, you’ve become gay. If you express that you like men while being with a woman, you’re either about to leave her for the closest man or looking for a threesome. In fact, threesomes are the only way to prove you like both men and women because you’re with a man and a woman simultaneously.

In a biphobic world, if Jackson is a guy always concerned with his image, he’ll absolutely choose one team over the other *and* be aggressively vocal about it. Since he’s involved with Lydia, he’s landed on Team Straight. It doesn’t matter that his best friend is openly gay because Jackson can no longer afford to express his own attraction to men.

One of the few reasons we “know” this world isn’t homophobic is because we constantly get straight guys being besties with guy guys, to show that the straight folks are cool with gays. But if the “straight” guy is capable of being into men, then questions arise about what he’s doing with his gay bestie behind closed doors. We already get sexually charged subtext from Jackson stressing he’s attractive to everyone including Danny, imagine if Jackson was out about liking men during that moment.

Additionally, people wouldn’t take Jackson’s relationship with Lydia seriously. Regardless of why Jackson and Lydia are together, it’s obvious they’re committed to one another, even if the reasons may be superficial (see note below). If people knew Jackson was also sexually attracted to men, not only would they suppose he’s cheating on Lydia with Danny but they’ll also start saying the three of them are having threesomes. Biphobia is so pervasive that, as long as Jackson is with Lydia, the very reminder that he can like men is more damning than him getting extra friendly with Allison.

It’s far easier for Jackson to make himself appear Straight™ so he never has to defend his platonic friendship with Danny or romantic partnership with Lydia. That’s how someone lands in a bisexual closet.

--

(Note: Jackson has a sense of commitment. He doesn’t flirt with Allison on a whim, he does it to mess with Scott. When he realizes his dating life has the potential to expand, he breaks up with Lydia instead of going behind her back. It’s not an ideal situation, but it shows he’s an all-or-nothing guy. If he were to find a new person, he’d commit to them instead.)

--

This post has been revised since I initially posted it in order to build upon my explanations in a more comprehensive way.