#but because I am a weirdo all I feel is odd and tired

[docholligay]

Time!

MY BATHTUB IS FIXED I AM GOING TO TAKE A BATH TONIGHT

#I am pretty sure I've got whatever midge had #but because I am a weirdo all I feel is odd and tired #I'm not coughing or anything just feel like I'm... #it's like I'm walking around a dollhouse and everything is just a little not real and far from me #or like being in an oil painting #I realize this sounds disturbing if this never happens to you--this is extremely normal for me for being sick like some people get a headac #It's uncomfortable but not that big of a deal #anyway dinner and very hot bath and then very soft flannel pajamas and a trip under the ol 20 pound blanket can fix me #I've gotten so sick this winter its been very bizarre

[love-at-first-bite]

I really am getting tired about the way people talk about Laios.

Talking with my co-workers/friends and they all call him a freak and weirdo. People on here call him that too and irks me just the same. But these people know me. I can't help but wonder if that's how they see me as well. A weirdo freak who's life is effected by a disability.

Autism is a disability. I know some people don't like hearing that but it's true. My autism effects every step of my life, literally every step as it effects even the way I walk. I don't get sarcasm or most jokes. I talk too fast and too loud. Lights and sounds and smells and textures can be hell for me while for others it's normal and fine. And don't even get me started on the whole social cues stuff.

I talk with someone at work who speaks mostly sarcastically and worry I talk what she says the wrong way a lot. I think she's always mad at me. My friends on Discord say things in a jokey manner rather often and I have to remind them that I think they're being serious unless otherwise stated, which I know gets annoying for them. I talk fast enough as it is (it's a Southern thing) but when I get even a little excited my words blur together and I have awful volume control, coupled as well with hearing issues so I get even louder. I have to make myself talk slower, which makes talker even harder than it already it as my brain and mouth don't sync up so I fumble over words. Someone brought in Valentine's treats for our big work lunch and the texture of it was so bad I fought back tears cause I couldn't just spit it out, even though people told me it was okay, cause that would be plain rude.

But I work with other autistic people. Surely they don't see them as a weird freak? But only I get the weird looks. Autism is only really accepted when it's cute and quirky and when people don't have to be reminded that it's a mental disability that makes living hard. Special interests are only cool when it's something cute, not anything like bugs or medicine or weapons...or monsters. Everyone thinks the person who pretended to be a wolf or a dragon should have been bullied harder when they were young cause maybe they wouldn't be "weird" today. Maybe if I wasn't a freak as a child I wouldn't be a freak today.

Laios is a fictional character. He can't be hurt by people calling him a weirdo freak online. But people who relate to him might be hurt by the things people say. Laios is excitable, talks fast, doesn't understand people's social cues, adores something everyone else around him see as strange and odd, grew up alone and seen as weird, was even physically hurt by people who didn't understand him, didn't want to understand him. Wanted to talk about this for a bit so I'm putting it here. I don't really find it funny that he gets hit and smacked around by his friends just cause they don't understand him. Be bullied because people don't understand your disability as a child/teen is hard enough, but being ragged on by your own friends? Physically too? Which loops me back around to the start of this whole thing.

I'm tired. I'm tired of hearing about this character I love and relate to and see myself in being mocked and called a crazy weird unhinged freak just for being autistic. People can say what they want, but I can't help but feel that's the way they actually see me, see others who are just like me. I already don't feel like I belong in life. Even my closest, bestest friend doesn't understand and I can tell she gets frustrated when I get a little "too autistic". I can't change who I am, despite my mother's efforts to erase my autism in my childhood and just ignoring it now in my adult years. I just wish people were a little nicer to people like me.

Happy autism acceptance month or whatever.

#victor beeps #sorry i'm not putting this under a read more this is ya'll's trial #real people feelings over fictional characters saying that right here right now #but the way some of you talk about fictional characters really shows how you actually feel about real people who are like them #like i've been wanting to talk about how people treat shane and pam from stardew valley but that's another conversation for another time

[ukittyu]

Jack In The Box!

Summary: You never seen it's face but you've seen it's silhouette. You've heard it's laugh and sometimes it calls your name. It's always been this way but it was always at the back of your mind, until, due to a series of unfortunate events that led you to a mental hospital for a couple weeks, things started to get trippy.

Part 3

TW: Yandere themes, traumatic childhood, substance ingest, Imaginary friend turned sleep paralysis demon!Hoseok AU! Slow-burn. This episode contains violence, leave if you're sensitive. TW will be updated if needed.

As expected, you didnt get any sleep thst night. You tried everything to keep your mind busy with other things. you wanted to sleep, you didn't wanted to give up your rest for a nightmare but the fear was swallowing you whole. Your neck hurted and you spended quite the time trying to cover them up with make up, sunday. Today its the day you must do something for this.

The night was warm and despite being in the middle of the city, there wasnt much noise. It got on your nerves, you hated this silence, in silence you could only hear your thoughts, so you played music, watched some mvs on your tv. 3:00am on your clock your eyelids felt so heavy, your body was fighting to stay sat and straight. Everything was so boring and this dread on your stomach, you knew it well.

You felt lonely and even though you considered yourself the most independent person, you wer afraid to be alone, to feel alone. You found it weird that none of your friends responded through out the day, it led you to overthinking. "Maybe they still sleeping?" "Or maybe the just got tired of me." Am I just the party friend? Do I even have real friends?" You did, you were certain of that until yesterday. You felt like when you were little.

When you will ask the kids from your block to play with you and they gave you bad faces or straight up told you to get lost. Same in some parks, same in the school. You weren't the most introverted but also not that outgoing, you felt like it was a good amount of both. You always tried to make people laugh, talk about intresting topics, anything to be accepted because most of the time you didn't feel like being enough.

Two tears scaped your eyes as you reminisce, you held your knees up to your body and hid your face in them as you sobbed. Seems like you've never got over that awful moments. Your mind recalling all your sad memories. Like when you told your parents that you wanted to dance, be a professional dancer one day and they just laughed, when a little girl pushed you out the playground claiming your were a crazy weirdo and your teacher laughed from afar.

These and many more, they still hurted and you cried like you haven't done in a while. You were to busy getting your life together, hanging out. You felt like your real life begun after 14. People approached you willingly, people wanted to be your friend as if it was magic, as if that gloomy cloud raining above your head disappeared.

You felt accepted, content with this people who became your family, you kept 3 of your first teenage friends til this day and you were so grateful. You wished them the best always. That's when your phone beeped. Your group chat had like 10 messages, you smiled relieved.

They always got your back, it was as if they sensed everytime you felt bad but they coming up and responding in the middle of the night was far from comforting today. They said that one of your friends, Misa hadn't picked up her phone nor responded since the night of the party. The rest, Max and Syd your guyfriends were asking if you knew something. Worried as hell you said no, that it was the same with you, she never responded.

The 3 of you made plans to meet the next day to look for her. This was beyond odd. Misa was always a responsible girl, she always texted back, she always made sure her people know where she's at, what she's up to. If you were worried before this got even worse. The sun rised up again and you were still awake, eyes puffy from all the crying and tiredness.

You got up from the bed and had your breakfast. 2 hours lattee you hear a banging in your soor you open up to see both of your friends. You received them with a smile but their faces were the exact opposite. They looked kinda like you, dark bags under their eyes, they were looking pale and mad. You let them in and Max speaks first.

"Do you have any idea of where she could been?"The air got thick and there was a couple seconds of silence as all of you recalled the last time you saw her."I never saw her leave the house, I left first and said goodbye. She was here with you "

"Yes, she was but she left in the morning, after everyone left. She was heading home."

"She never answered our calls, her phone seems to be off. Her family is looking for her already."

There was this silence again, you looked down, feeling a sorrow. This was all wrong, your friend, she cannot be lost, you tried to be positive and think maybe she lost her phone and it's out with some other friends, maybe, even if it didnt make sense. "What's on your neck?" Max pointed out and you panicked, you forgot it and you quickly covered the marks." Hey what's happening? Who did this to you?" Syd was agitated, raging at the thought of someone hurting you.

"It's nothing, I swear. I just..." You couldn't make up any explication at the moment and sighed."

"Does it have to do with Misa? Did someone did something to you and her? Where is she?!"

The situation was getting out of hand as Max grabbed your arms as he shouted every question into your face. Tears spilled from your eyes and you said "I...I can't explain." He let go of you and run his hand into his hair as he sigh.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I'm just nervous with all of this. Misa suddenly vanished into thin air and you, you appear with marks on your neck. You know you can trust in us, just tell us what happened!"

He screamed last sentence and broke down in tears. Syd was shaking, the pressure of the conflict was to much to take.

"L-let's just calm down. She's going to come back...anytime." That was all Syd said during the evening. Max just cried with you and apologized like a thousand times. They left a couple hours later and promised to stay tuned to any update or news.

As they were living Syd stood at the door for a second and turned around to you.

"If she doesnt show up...and you don't explain what happened to your neck, I'm calling the cops on you." Then he left. You couldnt understand how your friends switched this way. They were never rude to you, never had this demeanor, you understood, you felt scared too and you knew that you'll freak out in their position but mever this way.

There was never a dull moment beside them and now that Misa was gone, everything went downhill. Once again you didnt sleep, you tried to find your old therapist number. You remember her name, the last time you met her she worked at your school but she didn't work there anymore. You searched for her name online but there was no phone number, hopeless you threw yourself on your bed, as you looked up you saw your plushie fall from behind your pillows.

"Hey, where you've been little doll?" You held it above your face to examine it well. It was grey colored, his head was like a skull, x-cross were it's eyes and it had little pants and gloves like the old cartoons. Your mom never liked it, she said it seemed like it was dead and it creeped her out.

You never felt afraid of it, it comforted more than any person has, it was there in your worst and best moments. As if it was your first best friend, but somehow you knew it wasn't, you didnt remember how you got it either. You just know you had it since you were like 11. Once again you felt the sting of your tears in your eyes, you wanted to go back to where good things started to happen to you, you knew that life its a cycle and everything need to balance itself but you wanted to be tranquil. You hadn't felt this bad in a long time.

A feeling of emptiness, feeling like you disappointed your friends and now they doubt of you. In a sense they're in their right, one of their friends is missing and the last person to be seen with her has her throat marked up. Still it hurted you that after all these years of friendship, they turned into your chosen family and this was the first breaking point in which you felt like everything could end terribly wrong. You hugged your plushie as your tears ran down your face, slowly you drifted off.

A/N:Hey! Sorry for taking so long to upload this one, I wasnt really satisfied with the result. It's much like a filling chapter? If thats the right expression? Im working on the next but hope you can understand the character a lil nore now. As always thank you for waiting and reading!

#yandere #yandere au #yandere aesthetic #yandere moodboard #aesthetic #moodboard #bts #yandere bts #bts x reader #hobi x reader #yandere hoseok #yandere jhope #jhope bts #jhope x reader #jack in the box #jung hobi #jung hoseok #yandere bangtan

[strangerqueerthings]

Take Me Away To The Other Side

Billy Hargrove has been called many things. Miscreant. Bully. Violent. Vain. More than anything, he's a survivor, and completely implacable, with a will to live that even the Upside Down can't break. Eddie Munson has been called many things. Freak. Weirdo. Satanist. Odd. Like Billy, he's also a survivor, but not from being implacable. He calls himself a coward, because he's always been good at hiding, at running away, at surviving. The last thing Eddie expected was to see Billy on his doorstep, back from the dead, and in dire need of a friend- and not a group of scientists and doctors. He needs a place to hide, a place to recover, and come to terms with everything that he's done, and had done to him. As Eddie helps Billy through the painful process of recovering, physically and mentally, they discover Billy has an entirely new side to him, and it's going to take a lot of work to control it- and even more work to accept it. Billy and Eddie have always been loners, survivors, and their struggles, while different, bring them together, and give them reason to change: Eddie, to become brave, and Billy, to forgive- which includes himself.

(This fic is canon divergent with some serious changes, heavy subject matter, and possibly triggering content. Please heed the tags.)

@giurochedadomani (Since you asked to be tagged! ♥)

Notes/Disclaimer:

I was REALLY disappointed with Vecna/Henry/One as a character. I've always been disappointed when the Big Bad is just another megalomaniac white dude thinly veiled as a Joker rewrite.

(Apologies to his fans. He's not a BAD character, he was just a disappointing Big Bad, and an overused archetype that I'm tired of)

So I removed him. The Mindflayer is basically a proxy form for something truly ancient and horrible. I prefer Eldritch/Cosmic horror to white boys thinking they can be god.

The title is inspired by the song Come and Get Me by Sleeping Wolf, because it's deliciously appropriate.

I see your face it turns circle the crowded room Burning electric into me, I know you feel it too Stealing another touch, I draw the temperature I wanna give you everything, want you to be my cure

Cause I am lost for words

If you want me come and get me I see the hunger in your eyes I don't know what to say With your body wrapped around me Take me away to the other side I don't know what to say tonight I am the circuits bent, I am the lone disease And every caress is a medicine, bringing me to my knees Now I am in your hands, rattling in my bones Every sound just fades away until we are all alone

If you want me come and get me I see the hunger in your eyes I don't know what to say With your body wrapped around me Take me away to the other side I don't know what to say tonight

Cause I am lost for words The silence burns so much it hurts

If you want me come and get me I see the hunger in your eyes I don't know what to say With your body wrapped around me Take me away to the other side I don't know what to say tonight

Take me away to the other side Take me away to the other side I don't know what to say tonight

#Mungrove #sqt fic #Fic: Take Me Away #Youtube

[anoncausewhynot]

Cashiering sucks, but you make it a bit better.

            Cashiering sucks, but you make it a bit better 

                        Masky X Reader

Boring, Boring, Boring. You had only been working as a night shift cashier for a week and the routine had already gotten boring. You had to admit working 6 hours shifts 5 days a week for minimum wage wasn’t your ideal job. And as you scanned a woman with a particularly fussy baby’s groceries  you realized this even more. As you came upon 3 am you looked at the clock desperately waiting for the hand to reach 6 so you could book it out of there. The small store was mostly empty except for the aforementioned woman and now bawling child who were making their way out the door. Once they left, the store took on an eerie feeling, but not for long until that annoying bell made its little ding notifying you a customer had jusr walked in. Looking over at the man, a chill ran down your spine. He donned a rather feminine-looking mask with high eyebrows and pronounced cheekbones and strolled nonchalantly to the cigarette section. After browsing at them for a while he took a pack and walked over to you placing them down. Scanning them you read him the price and he took his wallet out pulling out a few singles. You thanked him and he made his way out to another man waiting outside, whose face you didn’t quite catch. For the next few days, the man came in, bought a pack of cigarettes, and left. Until one day you had enough “Are you going to rob me or what?” You weren't sure if you meant for it to be a joke or not “I might if you don’t shut your mouth and scan my item” he said harshly, which only made you burst into a fit of laughter. You had no idea why but something about this guy made you giddy inside. He tapped his foot impatient waiting for you to calm down and after a while of waiting he got tired of you and just walked out, leaving the cigarettes behind. “Hey wait sir you forgot this!” You picked up the item and tossed it to him “This one’s on me, it’ll make you die faster so I don’t have to keep dealing with this” He made a tsking sound and walked out, very obviously pissed off by your behavior, and yet that made the situation a lot funnier. After a few days of talking, he finally introduced himself or at least told you his nickname. Masky was a pretty weird one but you could understand why someone might call him by it. It was a cold winter night when Masky stopped coming in. it was the first time in a month. The next night was the same. And the next. This threw you off, but you knew he probably had a good reason for it. And after two months you nearly forgot about him. He wasn't exactly a big part of your life, to begin with, and you did find him rather odd. March 4th came and passed and you decided to hang up your apron once and for all and quit your job at this stupid, minimum wage store. You wanted to close out this chapter of your life forever and you had found a much nicer job at a local Cafe, one where you didn’t have to work nightshifts and meet weirdos, even cute weirdos. It wasn’t until the eve of March 17th that you saw Masky again. Specifically, you saw him at around 11 pm covered in blood, crossing the road. “Masky?!” You called after him running to catch up to where he was. “(Reader)? You shouldn’t be out here. It’s not safe at night you know” “Your bleeding! Come on my house is nearby I have bandages there” You grabbed onto his arm and dragged him to your house. He surprisingly didn’t resist. Maybe because he was too weak too or because he wanted to see your house. Who knows? Once getting to the front steps you fumbled with the keys before opening the door and stepping inside. You told Masky to wait there while you looked for the first aid kit and only then did you realize that the blood he was covered in wasn’t his own. He wasn’t even injured. You let out a cross between a yell of shock and confusion and stumbled back. He took this as an opportunity to tackle you to the ground and clamp his hand over your mouth. Whispering for you to be quiet. He wasn't here to hurt you and he would let you go if you just promised to be quiet. You nodded and he let go of and stood up brushing himself off. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out I’m not exactly the best of people (Reader) so I’d better get going. Next time maybe stay away from masked men covered in blood” His voice held a jovial tone to it and you felt like vomiting. He left but he would be back soon. Very soon. 

839 words

#masky x reader #masky x y/n #creepypasta #marblehornets #marble hornets #masky

[gendiebrainrotreceipts]

I think it's kinda homophobic to try to connect being kinky and homosexuality in a q-word.

If ppl have a success in that, it will mean gay=kinky and homophobs will have "strong reasons" to say: "you know all gay ppl are pervets and that shows!!!"

Even if ppl do not try to connect gay and being kinky, I don't think it appropriate to call ppl weirdos for their sexual orientation.

"We rEcLaIm tHe mEaNiNg wE aCCpeT oUr wEiRDneSs"

You may be yes, but if i don't want to be called in that way? "Ok its your choice uwu"

But then why all big corporations call me q-word? And everyone say q-rights? And all this different sexual orientations(demipolypanomietc) I don't get them

It makes me feel really lonely.

All this orientations make everyone special. But at the end they all the same: pretend to be gay and minority. But minority have became majority. If everyone is special, then nobody is.

I am sorry for rant. I am just tired of all this stuff. Why do I need to think i am weird? What if I don't want to? I am tired of explaining why calling me weird makes me uncomfortable. And ppl really do not understand why.

I totally agree, being gay is not strange and we shouldn’t encourage the idea that it is. Neither should people be acting as though it inherently goes hand in hand with kink; the idea that it does is simply homophobic. Homosexuality is not a kink and it is not strange. Accepting the fact that you’re different (in this case a sexual minority) should not mean accepting the socially constructed idea that you’re strange (in this case specifically ‘queer’) because of your difference.

As I said a little while ago in an earlier post, we are being actively encouraged to use less inflammatory and less offensive words for virtually all minority groups except for gay people. Instead, for them we are being actively encouraged to use a variety of slurs and derogatory language that has been used to refer to them. And not even in a way that reclaims it, because non gay people are being encouraged to use that language too, from causal conversation to academia. It’s an odd state of affairs

#radfem safe #gender critical

[xseildnasterces]

Saturday has become my weekly writing day and I am very much enjoying having a day each week that I sit down and write, even if it’s just for a short while. However, I’m writing this on Thursday whilst I sit at Orlando airport waiting for my flight home. I very rarely feel anxious travelling. I feel safe and in my happy place when I travel. It might sound weird, but I actually like the airport. I like seeing different airports. I may not have explored any of Florida (yet), but I’ve put my feet down on their soil (sort of). I was nervous today, I knew that I wouldn’t bump into anyone here, but I still that that thought. I had that worry. I guess I also had fear. What would have happened. Would we have ignored each other if we had crossed paths? We always said we would never do that, but things are different now, and I honestly don’t know what would have happened. I haven’t had to live out that scenario. Not today at least. I have over an hour to wait for this flight. My first flight was delayed over 12 hours, but thankfully I managed to get on a different flight in order to make my connection here in Orlando. As it happens, this flight is also delayed (thankfully only an hour), so all is well.

I don’t feel as excited as I usually do going home. I don’t know why. I think it’s because I am actually going to really miss work. I love my days in the office. I love spending time with M, and chats with the team, but I also really like doing my work and I feel sort of out of the loop when I’m not there. I have lots off odd conflicting feelings at the moment about a variety of things. I’m sure once I get home I will be more than fine. I’ll be happy and won’t want to leave. Living far from family is something you get used to, and slotting back into family life, although wonderful, can sometimes be jarring. I am excited for some of the plans we have though. I’m going to be exhausted this weekend, but on Sunday K and I are going to a festival which I have never been to before. K has been a few times and I’m really looking forward to it. I just hope I’m not too tired to enjoy it.

It’s been busy at work this week. S (my boss from IAEA) was in town again and he came and hung out in the archives and M gave him a tour. It was nice to see him and to feel like someone was happy to see me. We had lots of good chats and hugs and then I had to go as I had an appointment to get to. Yesterday P (ex-boss at IMF) came by to say ‘hi’ to everyone. It was nice really because had she come a day later I would have missed her. Everyone is heading too her house for a leaving party before she heads back to Brussels, but I will be away in Michigan at H’s sisters wedding so I will miss it. It’s a shame and I wish I could go, but everything always happens at once as usual. M isn’t going either which makes me feel a bit better as I’m not the only one that will not be there. 

I got my hair done yesterday and clearly didn’t allow myself enough time to get to therapy as I ended up missing it. I was pretty annoyed at myself, and also frustrated because I really could have done with that therapy session. Especially with the state of my head and thoughts right now. But yeah, I missed it. I got home and had half an hour spare. I was exhausted, so lay on the bed fully dressed and tried to sleep. I did fall asleep, right before my alarm went off. Up I got, and marched to group. Group was interesting this week. I really didn’t want to be there because I was so tired, but as always, I got into it and enjoyed being there. I love my group - which helps, but the topic was so validating. We were talking about s*x. Hearting peoples stories made me realise I was not alone in my feelings towards it. I don’t wish to go into full details about it right here, but I left feeling like I wasn’t the ‘weirdo’ or the one that has ‘something wrong with me’. I’m just normal. I feel validated a lot in Group. It makes me realise I am not alone. 

M and I put our request in this week for the ICA Congress in October. Keeping all my fingers and toes crossed that we get approval. I feel hopeful, but not at the same time. Who knows. I really hope we can go though. We were both chatting and planning for it the other day and we both got super excited. Anyway, my flight will be boarding soon and in around 8 hours I will be back in the UK with my mum at the airport waiting to collect me. See you on the other side!

#life #thoughts #feelings #me #diary #journal #life update #feeling #personal #diary entry #journaling #thought

[ibraen]

Drunk Ramble #1

Writing a full hybrid story between music and story is hard and exhausting. Sometimes I ask why am I doing to myself when I don't even have an audience or money to do everything I want to do... and the answer is the same: because I love it. I love the stress that comes with it, the despair, the sleepless nights caused by a creative surge. I'm a creative masoquist.

It may not be perfect. It may be mediocre. It may not be what *readers* and *music lovers* are looking for. But! I want to see this Frankenstein coming from my imbalanced mind come to life - and that's that.

Besides, who decides to tell a writer or a composer what to do? I do want money to create everything my mind desires but I'm sick and tired of conventions. If I shall be a Van Gogh, then let my death be the comfort for my wish for legacy.

I'm drunk enough to admit I'm an internet purist: I'm a freak weirdo doing weirdo things that are subpar to pop culture or what publishers want. Why should I care? I've accepted it's not possible to become a professional artist; that I lack luck and opportunities; that even my region lock works against me.

In this day and age where the internet has become so far removed from a place of gathering for the misunderstood, the freaks, the weirdos, the niche, the uncool, the degenerates; a place where the word "cringe" has been used to shun those who want to express themselves and more, where hopeful dreamy young eye dies by caving into pressures them to grow up... I want to be myself no matter how cringe, uncool, unappreciated, or invisible I feel.

No matter the criticism, the failures, the judgement. I do not wish to conform. And just because creativity dies when survival becomes overwhelming, doesn't mean I have to mourn it and rest it in a bed of flowers.

Despite my bad luck and the odds stacked against me, I know my mind won't quiet. At 35, 36, 40, 60, or at 78 years old, I know my brain won't just suddenly... stop unless I'm dead.

So, with all the despair of broken dreams and piecing a life that hasn't made sense to me so far... I'll continue to fight.

My question is, why are young people not doing so. Even if living off your dream is not possible, why would you stop doing what you love?

Drunk rambling over.

#singer songwriter #writers #writer problems #creativity #I mean come on life is too long to waste numbing yourself #and no life doesnt end at 30 dumdum #what happens after 30? after children? after retirement? #keep dreaming

[sunflowerdaisybee]

may i request cc!bad with an s/o who has really dark humor? he's constantly concerned for their wellbeing because of the jokes that they make lmao -froggy

For you froggy, I would do anything, like seriously I would not be where I currently am without you <3333333333

Summary: Your dark jokes are starting to concern your boyfriend

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Badboyhalo X Reader

Pronouns: They/them

[A/n]: Requests are open!

"You donate one kidney and you're a hero. Donate five and suddenly you're getting arrested. Like what's the deal with that?" Bad was quiet, only looking at you with concern.

Deciding that now wasn't the time to try and make sense of your jokes, Bad simply turned back to the movie and pretended nothing happened.

This wasn't the first time that you had made a joke like this. In fact, you'd had a darker sense of humor for as long as Bad could remember. At first, he didn't mind it, everyone is different. Though as of lately, he was beginning to grow concerned about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Babe?"

"What? I'm trying to sleep."

I just wanted to say that I love you, and if you ever think that you're worthless, you aren't. Your organs are worth lots of money on the black market." Things were quiet for a moment as Bad's sleepy mind comprehended what you said. Though as soon as it registered he responded.

"Screw off. Go to bed." Bad snuggled back under the covers, cuddling into you as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Bad?"

"What do you want, I'm in the middle of a stream?"

"What's the difference between a baby and a baked potato?"

"Do I want to know?" You nodded your head, hoping he would ask.

"What's the difference?"

"About 140 calories." You laughed at Bad's facepalm, quickly bidding him goodbye and going back to the living room.

"Chat I am so sorry, I have no idea what's wrong with them." Bad apologized to his chat before returning to what he was doing.

As soon as Bad ended his stream and shut everything down, he walked out into the living room to hang out with you. He found you laying down on the couch, under fuzzy blankets, watching a movie. So he did the only logical thing and laid down with you, cuddling up under the blankets with you.

"How was your stream?"

"It was good, except for when you barged in with your dumb joke. Speaking of which, why do you make jokes like that anyways?"

"I don't know, I just think it's funny. Does it bother you that much? I can stop if you'd like."

"No it's fine, it just worries me sometimes. I guess I'm just worried that one day you'll make a joke that isn't really a joke but no one will know because you make jokes just like it all the time."

"Bad, I can tell you wholeheartedly, that something like that would never happen. And if I were going through something, anything, I would tell you right away. I love you so much, I just have a very odd sense of humor."

"I love you too. And odd is an understatement." The two of you chuckled at his words.

"Yeah but you love it, you'd be sad without my jokes. I mean, c'mon that baby one from earlier was pretty funny."

"I suppose I like your jokes, and that baby one was just cruel. Why would anyone eat a baby?"

"I don't know, maybe they secretly taste good." Bad just shook his head at you.

"Let's just cuddle and watch the movie, I'm tired and don't feel like talking about eating babies." You chuckled at Bad's attempt of ending the conversation, deciding that this conversation could be saved for some other time.

"I love you, goofball."

"I love you too, weirdo."

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x male reader #mcyt x gender neutral reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #dsmp x Y/N #dsmp x gender neutral reader #dsmp x male reader #badboyhalo x reader #badboyhalo x you #badboyhalo x y/n #badboyhalo x male reader #badboyhalo x gender neutral reader #x reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x reader fluff #x male reader fluff #x gender neutral reader fluff #fluff

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

#haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tendou satori x reader #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu imagines

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Chapter 3

⚠WARNING: Mention of previous characters' deaths

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You have no idea how you got here.

Here, being in front of the lone coffee shop on campus, on your way to meet the stranger who’s had the misfortune to get Hajime’s old phone number and receive your sad ramblings meant for no one else.

And you, the author of those sad ramblings, written in moments of weakness, are going to sit with this stranger and….

You haven’t gotten that far yet.

Honestly, you’ve been more incredulous at the odds of this meeting even happening.

What the hell am I doing???

You really have no explanation, not even for yourself. The time is 9:58 and in two minutes you’re going to walk into the cafe and meet with a stranger who is going through a traumatic life experience similar to yours.

Ok, so you can explain what you’re doing. But the why is what’s escaping you. And frankly that should scare you more than it is currently doing.

Especially seeing how you haven’t told your friends what you’re doing. You bugged off lunch (much to Oikawa’s annoyance) but didn’t tell them why. Not only would Oikawa throw a fit but he, Mattsun and Makki wouldn’t understand your reasoning for meeting a stranger you met only a few hours ago.

They really wouldn’t understand why you don’t have a solid reason for meeting this stranger.

Put all the red flags together and you would find yourself locked in your apartment with no means of escaping under Oikawa’s watch.

To be fair, you are meeting them in a public place and you have no intention of going anywhere with the stranger. You’re just going to go have a cup of tea, shoot the shit, and then leave.

Yeah, it’s definitely doable. And not at all crazy.

You take a deep breath before walking inside the shop. It’s a bit crowded - the weekend mid-morning rush makes the employees hustle behind the counter to fill orders. All of the tables are full, leaving no space for two strangers to sit and….

Oh, this was a bad idea. A really bad and stupid idea.

Your phone rings in your pocket. You pull it out and nearly jump at the caller ID.

Your brain points out that it’s not Hajime but the stranger you’re meeting. You pick up the phone quickly. “Hello?”

“Heya, how’re ya doin’?”

You hope you’ve schooled your expression into nonchalance but you can’t help your eyebrows jumping hearing the clear Kansai dialect through the phone.

Besides the surprise at the unfamiliar drawl, you’re pleased to hear a clear and strong voice on the other line. Nothing creepy or weird or anything your brain was trying to convince would be the case.

“Hi.” You reply into the phone. You can hear background noise from his end, which assures you again that he must actually be here.

“‘M over in the corner with the baseball cap.”

Your eyes move to the corner immediately and zero-in on a figure sitting at the table there. It’s a man, wearing a dark long-sleeve shirt and a dark ball cap. And he’s staring straight at you.

You hang up the phone and walk over to him. You spot a coffee cup on the table in front of him and watch as he takes his hat off and sets it on the tabletop. His silver-grey hair is messed up from the hat but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment.

No, what has you almost faltering in your steps is the exhaustion that lies deep on his face. The bags under his eyes are heavy and stark against his pale skin. His mouth is drawn in a small frown and with his eyebrows furrowed slightly it makes him look troubled.

You recognize his weariness. This is a man who is burdened to carry an intangible weight.

However this man still meets your gaze and gives you a small, tired smile. The small gesture brightens his face considerably but doesn’t completely erase the empty look. But you feel your nerves settle when he smiles at you.

“Hi,” he says when you approach the table.

“Hello.” You sit in the chair opposite of his and shrug your jacket off. “It’s busy, thanks for grabbing a table.”

“No worries.” Hearing his calm and measured tone in person relaxed you more than you realized and you felt some tension release from your shoulders. “‘M here all the time and I figured they’d be a bit busy on Saturday. D’ya want me to grab ya something from the counter?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shake your head to emphasize your point.

“Nah, I insist. Coffee? Tea? Fancy mocha drink?”

“Uh,” you’re startled by his insistence but relent. “A tea, please. Jasmine if they have it.”

He nodded before standing and making his way to the register, letting you fully settle in your seat and try to still comprehend what the hell you are doing.

Mid-inner freak out (oh god, what if he drugs my tea, what am I doing?!) a cup materializes in front of you. Osamu comes around with another cup for himself and sits in the chair across from you.

“They had Jasmine and it smells amazin’.” He shifts in his seat and takes a sip of his coffee. “‘M not a big tea drinker but that smells like it would calm ya down real good.”

You send him a smile before lifting the cup up. The smell of jasmine tea was soothing and the taste was even better when you took a small sip. “It’s my go-to comfort drink. I’ve probably had a few more cups than normal in the past few months.”

The sympathetic look the stranger sends you makes you purse your lips, realizing too late what you said. You look away, cursing to yourself. Great, way to go and make it awkward now. It’s quiet for a bit, now awkward by your weird ~fun fact~

“My name’s Miya Osamu.” You look up at the man and see a rueful smile on his face. “I probably shoulda told ya my name earlier. ‘M a first year student at Sendai University.”

You blink. Of fucking course you didn’t know his name. You never thought to ask when texting him earlier. You met up with a LITERAL stranger for tea and coffee.

“Wow, I’m sorry for being so rude!” You hurriedly say. “I should’ve asked AGES ago. But my name’s L/N Y/N. I’m also a first year student at Sendai.”

“Huh.” Osamu (not The Stranger) says. “What a weird coincidence.”

You nod. “Yeah, um are you not from around here? I can tell by your dialect.”

Osamu hums. For the first time you see his face fall and set into something more stone-like. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there nonetheless. “Hyogo. Came to Miyagi for school and had to get a new number.”

“Oh.” It’s a dry answer that you really don’t know how to reply to. “Do you like it so far?”

He shrugs. “It’s not bad. Pretty far.”

You nod. “Yeah, it is.”

You both lapse into a silence that is neither comfortable nor relaxing.

Oh my GOD this is so awkward! Why did you agree to this? Why did you think this was a good idea?! Yeah sure, he’s not a freaking weirdo serial killer, you can check that off your list. But you didn’t think about what you would actually TALK about!

“Do ya wanna talk about Hajime?”

Your reply to his question is to spit your tea across the table.

You look up to meet Osamu’s concerned gaze. Neither of you move before you both reach across to grab napkins from the dispenser.

“Are ya alright?”

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!”

In your haste to clean up your tea the napkin dispenser gets knocked to the ground, and the napkins explode out like an explosion of white confetti.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” The napkins springing up startle you so much that your knee knocks into the table hard, almost upending Osamu’s coffee.

“Argh!” You lean down to clutch your knee as it throbs painfully but your head collides with the table instead. “OUCH!”

“Are ya alright?!” Osamu asks frantically.

You exhale deeply. “Yep, I’m just a klutz. Fuck, that hurt my head.” You wish you could keep your head down and disappear. But you look up, your face bright red with embarrassment, and meet the concerned look from Osamu.

“I’m ok,” you reassure. “Really.” You look around at the mess surrounding your table and catch a few people gawking. Good lord. “Besides my pride taking a beating, I’m all good.” You stoop down to grab the napkins scattered around, wincing at the waste. Osamu also bends down to help.

“It looked like a pretty hard hit,” he notes.

“It’d be worse if I had something in my head worth keeping safe.”

Osamu smiles at your quip, a little half-smile. It’s nice.

Soon you both stand back up to throw out the napkins. Osamu grabs the bunch from you, letting you sit back down. You try to cool the fuck out and you will your face to not resemble a tomato when he comes back.

“Are you sure yer alright?” Osamu asks again.

“Yes, really.” You nod. “I’m sorry if I spat tea on you. I was just really surprised.”

Osamu tilted his head. “From what I said?” You nod. “Why?”

“I mean,” you start. “It mainly just caught me off guard. I’m not used to it, like just talking about him.”

“Do ya talk about him at all?”

You want to nod, but thinking about it you honestly don’t remember the last time you were able to tell someone about Hajime. Not his passing, but just talking about the person that he was.

“Oh.” Osamu pauses, looking at you considering. “Well my old therapist said it’s good to talk about this stuff, so I figured that’s what ya wanted.”

You don’t know how to reply to his simple explanation. Because you do want to talk about Hajime. You want to so badly. You want to tell the world how amazing he is, how he makes the world a better place just by existing, how strong he is and how much lighter you feel when he’s around

Or, how it was.

But you haven’t been able to talk about him. Every time you tried to talk outside of group therapy with your friends, Oikawa shuts down and Makki and Mattsun get uncomfortable. Your therapist is always able to handle anything you throw at her, but it’s not the same as just talking about a friend to someone.

So maybe Osamu is right about just talking about Hajime.

“He has hair like a porcupine.”

Osamu gives you a look of confusion before you continue. “Our friend Oikawa used to call him prickly, and we’d tease him when he’d bristle up and say he looks like a porcupine.” You laugh at the memory of Hajime bristling up, constantly egged on by Oikawa. “It wasn’t even bad hair, it was just so sharp. It was weird.”

Osamu doesn’t say anything for a second before he bursts out laughing. “Atsumu had weird hair too - dyed bleach blonde. Thought it made him look badass.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

You wrap your hand around your cup of tea, hesitating. An obvious question hangs in the air but for the first time since sitting down Osamu looks a bit lively.

“Was Atsumu your brother?”

The lightness on Osamu’s face is extinguished when he nods at your question. “Yeah, he’s a pain in the ass but I love him.” He pauses, looking down at his coffee cup. “Well, he was.”

You can feel the pain radiating from that one word. You understand the horrid dread that comes when you realize you’d been speaking about Hajime in the present tense. Even more so when you have to admit it out loud.

You look at Osamu and frown upon seeing his withdrawn expression. You feel immense guilt, knowing that you’ve contributed to his change in mood.

You’re desperate to lighten the mood and bring that smile back to Osamu’s face. You search through your memories, trying to find something funny. A thought crosses your mind and you feel a small smile grace your lips.

“There was one time that my friend was determined to roast smores on Iwa’s head.” You giggle at the disbelieving look on Osamu’s face. “Yeah, it was the stupidest idea he’d ever concocted. We didn’t even get one marshmallow on his head.”

“We?” Osamu asks, his voice lifting in amusement ever so slightly.

“Of course.” You reply, a smile spreading over your face at the memory and at Osamu’s content face. “I too was curious if we could do it.”

Osamu snorts, shaking his head as he brought his coffee to his mouth. “That idea would have intrigued Atsumu for sure. He was all about the far-fetched plots to piss off everyone around him.”

You smile, leaning forward in your chair. “Oh yeah? Wanna share some notes?” Osamu’s face brightens slightly at your words and he begins to talk, more animatedly than before.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: So nothing bad happened with Y/N meeting the stranger (besides her being a clumsy klutz, where are my fellow klutzes at?) Thank you for reading, I hope this chapter was a little soft respite from the initial angst~

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU (bold cannot be tagged): @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien

#haikyuu! #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #hq smau #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu romance #hq romance #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x you #iwaizumi hajime #miya atsumu #oikawa tooru #hanamki takahiro #matsukawa issei #tw.mention of past character death #kita shinsuke #suna rintarou #ojiro aran #its [not] okay fic & smau

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 4:

You’re paranoid. 

Terribly, terribly paranoid, and even if you’re aware of it, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Nothing you can do to quell the anxiety that wells up every time another person enters your space. Every time their skin nearly brushes yours, even accidentally, just for a split second.

It’s maddening. Nearly debilitating the way you’re flinching away from people. You can see your co-workers notice too, fellow nurses suddenly giving you odd looks every time you reject a high five. Even when you’re wearing your gloves. It’s just a panic reaction at this point- a fixation on trying to keep your quirk as least exhaustive an experience as it can be. 

On one hand, you still really dislike Bakugou- nearly hate him for bringing it up to you- but, on the other hand, he did manage to figure it out. He somehow managed to figure out what you never could, and all in a matter of minutes from your relatively short interactions. It made you think that maybe he could be really smart- if he didn’t spend so much time killing his own brain-cells with every juvenile insult he spewed at you. 

You wondered if that was just him, or he really did hate you that much. Surely he couldn’t be that much of a monster to other people, right? Right? 

Wrong. 

You remember Kirishima, how he apologized for Bakugou nearly the second he walked through the door. It hits you then that you’re definitely not the first person he’d seemed to mercilessly terrorize- you’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse.

Actually, on second thought, maybe it makes you feel worse. No, it definitely makes you feel worse. So much worse, in fact, that just the sight of his face nearly sends you into an irrational rage. Even now, weeks after the last time he’d personally ruined your day, you were still mad. Still angry. Still cursing every time you saw those red eyes on every billboard, newspaper, and billboard in town.

Well, lucky for you, you didn’t have to look at those printed eyes anymore. Not when the real ones were right in front of you- scaring you shitless as you leave the hospital. 

You had left the hospital from the back exit, tired and crabby from your late shift, grumbling as you stepped out into the alleyway. You’d hardly seen him, just the slightest glimpse of movement behind the tall dumpsters, before he’s practically in your face.

“Jesus!” You gasp, curling your arms around your stomach. Your legs feel like jelly. “Don’t do that! Scared me half to death!”

“Oh, chill the hell out, ya fuckin’ baby. You’re fine.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, falling into step next to you.

He looks worse for the wear, just like every other time you’ve seen him, exhaustion coloring his complexion something sickly. There’s an angry purple bruise covering his cheek, a few cuts, and even more bruising dotting his scarred knuckles. A tiny, vindictive part of you thinks it serves him right, but you keep it to yourself. You’re better than that.

You want to be nice to him, truly you do, but he’s made it pretty hard. Concerning you, Bakugou’s pretty much dug his grave at this point, and he only makes it worse with his next works.

“You need to do something for me.” He orders suddenly. “Now.”

“A-are you asking me? For help? Is that what this is?”

“What? No- obviously fucking not.” He sneers, nostrils flaring. “Why the hell would I go and do something like that. That’s stupid. Weak.”

“Oh. Okay. So then two seconds ago, when you were telling me that I ‘need’ to do something for you, what was that?” You squint your eyes at him, eyebrow twitching with annoyance. “That wasn’t you asking for help?”

“No. ‘s an order.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay- an order. Because you’re totally in a position to make those.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” You spin on your heels, nearly crashing into his chest since he followed so closely behind you. Still, you figure the promixity is all the better for gesturing, so you don’t miss a beat, waving your hands emphatically. “My shift just ended, alright? That means I’m not on the clock, and you’re not a patient. I don’t have to suck it up and help you unless I want to. Understand?”

Bakugou seems to bristle at your tone, eyes narrowing as his lip curls. You just try to shrug it off. If he wants to be mad in the middle of the alley, fine- but you’ve had a long day and you’re going home. You spin around again, walking briskly into the street, and it takes him a few moments to catch up.

“I told you, Bakugou, I’m not helping you just because you tried to order me to.”

“I know.”

“Then what’re you doing?”

“Walking.”

It’s his tone; that same needling, challenging edge to it that has your blood boiling. If anyone else said that, you’d probably believe it. But he’s not just walking and Bakugou’s smirk makes that very clear.

“No. You’re following me.”

“Same fuckin’ direction. Sue me, leech.”

The street lamps cast spots that yellow out his already pale skin, and the longer you walk the more withered he looks. Bakugou seems utterly burnt out, and when you look really close, all his features are slumped. It’s a stark contrast to Dynamite’s turbo-charged public persona, and it makes you wonder why he’d even let you see him like this at all. You figure whatever it is must be making him pretty desperate.

Suddenly that same, sinking, sympathetic feeling has you letting up a bit. You slow your pace, catching his gaze as you internally curse your own soft heart.

“Okay. Fine. What’s up. What can I help you with?”

Bakugou squints his eyes, almost like he doesn’t believe you. You think that’s a little fair- most times, even you can hardly believe all that you’re capable of forgiving.

“Sleep.” He finally says, bitten out tightly under his breath. 

“You want me to help you sleep?”

“Yes. Obviously.” 

“Not obvious.” 

“Would be if you weren’t such a shitty nurse.”

“If that’s supposed to be a dig- save it.” You roll your eyes, trying to tamper down the irritation. “I did notice. That you look tired. Just didn’t mention it out of kindness, so don’t think you can start bringing my skills into question.” 

You turn down another side street, and Bakugou follows. There’s less light so you miss the way his eyes scan the lurking shadows; intense and immediate, like a habit he can’t help himself from indulging in. 

“You really live around here?” He suddenly asks, voice low and gruff.

“Yep. In the apartment complexes just up there.” You point off into the distance. “Why-”

“And your shift always end this late?”

“Yes?”

“God,” He laughs something disbelieving under his breath, rolling his eyes at you. “I was fuckin’ right. You really are the stupidest goddamn person walking the planet.”

“That’s- Do you ever think about your words? Seriously!” You huff, curling your fists. You hope it’ll quell your sudden urge to hit him. “Just because you think it, doesn’t mean you should say it! And who the hell are you to judge anyway-”

“You’re fuckin’ asking to be attacked. That’s stupid. ”

“By who?”

“Weirdos, idiot.”

“You’re the weirdo! You’re the one following me home right now!”

“I’m not following you-”

“Really? You’re not? Because right now, the way you’re walking? Maybe all of two steps behind me? On a dark street? At night? Sort of seems like creepy following is exactly what you’re doing!”

“I told you, you need to do something for me. Not leaving till you do.” He grumbles, digging a bruised knuckle into his temples. “And keep it the fuck down. Your screaming sounds like a dying animal.”

“My-” You seethe for a moment, hardly able to stand his attitude. Then you take a breath because you prided yourself on being a kind person, and kind people do not kill national heroes- even when they’re being asses. “You know, it is almost unbelievable how bad you are at asking for help.”

“Told ya, already. ‘m not fuckin’ asking for help.” 

“Then why are you even here bothering me? Go bother someone else!”

“If fuckin’ anyone else could do anythin’, believe me, I’d go to them instead.”

“God, do you even understand how rude that is?” You ask him incredulously, hand grasping at the door to your apartment building. “No, seriously, are you even aware of what you sound like to other people?”

“Not my fuckin’ problem that other people are sensitive.” 

Your eyes bulge at that, mouth nearly dropping in disbelief. You couldn’t believe him. You just couldn’t believe that a single person could possibly go through life with that callous of a mentality. It was insanity. Pure insanity. 

“So, leech, you gonna put me to fuckin’ sleep or not?” 

Just kidding- that was insanity. That sentence alone was proof of just how ridiculous your life had gotten since he’d crash landed into it. 

Bakugou seems to realize his words simultaneously, his cheeks flushing red under the outdoor lights. You almost laugh, but then he’s glaring, eyes sternly set and murderous. For a moment, you really believe he was gonna blow you up right where you were standing. 

“Say a goddamn word. Do it. I fuckin’ dare you. Leech.” He sneers. “Try me.”

“At this hour? No, uh, no thanks.”

Bakugou does seem to relax at your joke, albeit begrudgingly. He drops his shoulders, rolling his eyes, and clears his throat. “Now, seriously, you gonna fuckin’ do it or not?”

A part of you wants to say no- to hold your gift over his head, to lord it just out of reach until he figures out how to not insult you with every breath. Then you think of your job, of all the civilians who come in swearing up and down that Dynamite was a hero. And you believe them, truly, but you think that Bakugou has a long way to go. An especially long way.

But, even so, your fingers are itching again in your gloves. There’s that urge coursing through your veins, your thoughts a constant loop of heal, help, save and so it’s decided. Quickly. Almost like it was never even a question in the first place- and, knowing yourself, you suppose it never really was.

“Fine. I will. On one condition.”

“Condition? When the fuck did I say it was a negotiation. It’s not.” 

“It is and I’ll tell you why.” You spin to face him completely, jumping back when you find him much closer than expected. Your retreat till your back hits the door, but you feel no less cramped than before. “You need me. You do. Don’t bother denying it because you wouldn’t be here otherwise. And the funny thing is, I would’ve done it! Would’ve done it entirely free of charge if you just asked nicely, and-”

“Will you get to the fuckin’ point already?”

“See! That! That’s why there’s a condition! Because you’re needlessly rude! All the time from what I’ve seen. And that’s got to change. Especially if you’re gonna ask for my help more than just this one time.” 

“God- how many fuckin’ times do I need to make this clear to you? Hah?” Bakugou growls, leaning in even more. You can see it in his wild eyes- he’s trying to scare you, crowding you against the door. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you- You don’t make the fuckin’ rules here.” 

“In this I do.” You swallow nervously, trying not to let your intimidation show. “So you’re gonna listen. My condition is this- if you want me to help you, then you have to learn to play nice. That means no names, no insults, no threats, no complaints, and no attitude. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” 

Bakugou swears under his breath, eyes blazing as he holds his stare. Truthfully, it makes you nervous, but you’re not one to back down. At least, not when there’s no threat of job loss involved. So you just squint back at him, jutting your jaw out in defiance. There’s a tense few seconds of silence, his eyes searching, but then he backs off. Nostrils flaring like a bull, Bakugou relents. 

“Fuckin’ fine. Whatever. Jesus.” He swears, hand curling into a fist at his side. “If you’re gonna be such a bitc-”

“I said, no names, Bakugou.”

He just rolls his eyes, face so very pinched, and you briefly wonder if he’s going to explode. There’s anger as he suddenly shoves you away from the door, yanking it open and letting himself into the building. Then he’s stomping through the lobby, and you’re hardly able to catch up by the time Bakugou stops in front of the elevator. 

“What fuckin’ floor, leech?”

“Once again, I said no names. None. Especially not that one.” You tell him sternly, trying to keep your voice down. “And you didn’t agree. You’re not following me and I’m not helping you unless you agree.”

If possible, you think Bakugou’s expression grows even more irritated, his eyes widening as he sets his jaw. Another few seconds pass, and when he sees you won’t relent, Bakugou nods. It’s tight and strained, stunted like the acquiescence physically pains him. 

“God, you’re lucky I’m nice.” You tell him, nearly stabbing the elevator button as you press it. “Really lucky.”  

“And you’re lucky I don’t have enough energy to beat the shit out of you right now.” 

“No threats, Bakugou. You agreed.” You say easily, stepping into the elevator as it opens. 

“Had to. Because your fuckin’ terms are bullshit.” 

“Hey, no complaints. You agreed to that too.” 

You think you hear something strangled leave his mouth, but it’s swallowed up by the sound of the elevator ascending. 

Now that you’re standing in better lighting, you can see Bakugou’s face clearly. He looked bad before, but he looks worse now. There wasn’t just one bruise on his face, there was multiple- his jaw colored burgundy and his nose and lip split open. There was no blood, but there wasn’t a lot of scabbing either. It was new. These injuries were new.

You think back to that first visit- when he told you he never really got hurt. You wonder what’s been going so wrong for him lately. It seemed like all he’d done since you’d met him was get hurt. 

“Stop fuckin’ staring.”

“I-I’m not. Not like that.” You say. “I’m assessing. You’re gonna need a butterfly bandage, on your nose- skin moves too much. And a cold compress for your jaw. Maybe some disinfectant on your lip. Probably should get your knuckles wrapped too and-”

“Jesus, I fuckin’ get it.”

You roll your eyes, ready to retort, but then the elevator dings. You walk out into the hallway, Bakugou trailing behind you like a shadow. It’s not until you’re at your door, twisting your key into the lock, that you pause.

You’re about to enter your apartment, with Bakugou of all people. A guy you’re not even sure can tolerate you. And yet you’re doing it- because he needs help. Because he looks like walking death and you’ve got a first aid kit under your bathroom sink. Because he’s pretty much proved himself to be an irredeemable asshole, but yet you still can’t bring yourself to leave him out in the cold.

Because you’re an empath, and that, by default, makes you an idiot.

You turn the key. Bakugou, to his credit, looks a little uneasy, but then you’re waving him through the door, and pushing it shut behind him. 

“So, you wait here.” You gesture towards your couch, moving aside a few pillows to make him room to sit. “I’m gonna go get all that stuff I talked about.”

“So, what, you’re just like playing fuckin’ nice nurse again, now?”

“Bakugou. No attitude please- I am nice, okay? All the time. Or, at least when others are nice to me.” You say, levelling him with an unimpressed look. “And even if they’re not, I still don’t like seeing them hurt. Not if I can do something about it.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ help.”

“No, but you need it. And since you’re too stubborn to ask for it, I’m just gonna have to force it on you.”

“Do you even fuckin’ hear yourself?” Bakugou prickles, voice rising. “Acting like a goddamn savior. Like you’re so fuckin’ good and holy. It’s bullshit.”

“It’s not.” You say flatly. Then you’re pivoting on your heels, leaving him behind and you grab the first aid kit. You open the bathroom door, calling over your shoulder. “And if you have such a problem with it, then leave. Nobody is keeping you here.”

You hear Bakugou swear again, so angry and seething that you almost believe he’ll take you up on your offer; but then you hear footsteps across the floor, the creaking of your couch.

You reach under your sink, pulling out the kit and a few extra rags for a compress. When you look in the mirror there’s exhaustion lacing your features, your eyes worn and dark with bags. The sight makes a part of you want to forget it all- makes you want to surrender to the ache in your bones and tell him to leave; but that’s just a small part. The larger part is telling you that you’re not spent until you’re unconscious, and that right now, Bakugou looks a whole lot worse than you feel. It’s telling you to hurry up and help him and you agree. 

When you walk back out, supplies in hand, Bakugou’s slumped on your couch. He’s got his head tilted over the back, one hand resting on his stomach and the other thrown over his eyes. He shifts at the sound of your approach, dropping his hand and as blinks blearily. You think his eyes look a little duller than before- less like raging wildfire and more like smothered embers. If you didn’t know any better it would look like begruding acceptance- but this was Bakugou, and you knew better.

“So,” You start, setting all of your things down on the couch next to him. “You wanna go to sleep now? Or wait until after I fix up pretty much the entirety of your face?” 

He looks at you unsurely, eyebrows creasing.

“Wait, actually- how are you planning to get home?” You continue, hands on your hips. “Where do you even live? Around here? Close? Because you were out in like, 10 minutes, maybe, the last time I touched you, so it’s gotta be close. You live close right? Because-”

“God, cool it with the fuckin’ word vomit. Shit’s annoying. Shut up.” He grumbles. “I’m sleeping here.”

“Who decided? You?”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“Bakugou.” You balk, striding closer to the back of your couch. You lean over him, forcing him meet your eyes. “This is what I’m talking about! With the learning to play nice thing! I would’ve let you stay here, I would’ve, had you asked. You can’t just bulldoze your way into my house and refuse to leave!” 

“Yeah? ‘n just what the fuck are you gonna do about it if I do?” He scoffs, curling his lip as he snarls. “Nothing. Because you’re so fuckin’ nice, right?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a bad trait and I won’t have you insulting it. I’m not embarrassed of who I am.” You try to work through your frustration, centering yourself with a deep breath. “Look, bottom line is, ask next time. Or I’m not helping you until you do.” 

“Fine. Whatever.”

You try to shrug off his petulant response, taking another calming breath as you shuck off your gloves. You replace them with latex ones from the kit, pulling the material over your fingers as you grab the antiseptic wipes. You decide to start around the cut on his nose. It’s the largest and widest, spanning over the entirety of his bridge and into his right cheek. It’s a nasty thing, deep and red, all exposed nerves beneath a thin scab and you can tell it hurts him. Bakugou fights to keep from wincing, eyes scrunching slightly as you wipe the remnants of dirt and oil from his skin. 

“This from another villan?” You ask calmly, finding an easy peace in performing familiar tasks. “One today?”

“Cuts are from today. Bruises were yesterday.”

Blinking down at him, you’re a little surprised by how easy his answer was. You expected him to fight, to be difficult just because he could, but Bakugou wasn’t doing that. He was lying relatively and still and sated under your fingertips, the only sign of any tension are his minutely pinched eyebrows. Briefly, you check your gloves- for a moment there you were sure you’d accidentally touched him.

“Oh. Okay.” You reply, taking a small butterfly bandage from your kit. You press it over the cut with gentle pressure. “How’s the other guy look?”

“Fuckin’ terrible. Beat ‘em to hell.”

“I’m sure you did.” You snort, moving on to clean the cut on his lip. “Hey, you wanna know something?”

Bakugou peeks a red eye open, studying your face above him. He nods.

“I actually end up treating a lot of your victims, you know.” 

“Criminals. Not victims.”

“Mhm. Sure. Well, either way, they’re always covered in burns. Mostly minor, but sometimes pretty nasty ones.” You try to keep your voice light, even and steady as you dab at his lip. “Honestly, at this point, I’m pretty sure you’re entirely responsible for the hospital’s chronic burn-cream shortage.”

Bakugou does seem to smile at that, exhaling through his nose as his eyes flutter briefly. “Wouldn’t be fuckin’ short if people just stopped tryin’ to pull stupid shit all the time. ‘s not my fault they’re so fuckin’ bad at running away.” 

“Bakugou.” You balk, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out your lips. “You can’t say that!’ 

“Why the fuck not? Hah? It’s true.” 

“Because! You’re supposed to be playing nice, remember?”

“Yeah. To you.” He mumbles, voice rough and raspy. “Because you fuckin’ schemed your way into forcing me. They didn’t.” 

“Okay- First, I’m like, pretty sure schemed and forced are the same thing, so we definitely don’t need to say them both. It’s just overkill. Second, that’s a borderline insult, so I’m gonna need you to watch your mouth. And third,” You cradle his jaw in your fingers, turning it to the side. “How the hell did you manage to get a bruise behind your ear?”

“I don’t know- probably the same way you somehow managed to become a nurse; even with such shitty fuckin’ bedside manner. You suck, leech.”

Your jaw drops. 

“Bakugou!”

He cracks his eyes open, something small and pleased settling at the corner of his mouth. There’s almost as much venom in his voice as before but his eyes are softer now. They’re kinder, crinkling just slightly at the edges. 

He’s joking. You realize. He doesn’t actually mean it. Not this time.

“You dick.” You reprimand, flicking his hairline lightly. “You absolute dick.”

His eyes just seem to grow a little brighter at that, just for a second, and then he’s shutting them again. There’s still a smirk on his face though- one you’d swear you’d slap off if he wasn’t actually being somewhat pleasant right now. For once in his life, it seemed. 

“Alright,” You announce, rounding the couch quickly. “Your knuckles look just as bad so give ‘em.”

“No thanks.”

“It wasn’t really a suggestion.”

“I don’t need anymore of your pity help, leech.”

“It’s not pity. Not even a little bit.” You sigh. “Look, I know you’re not gonna understand this, but I seriously cannot chill the hell out without at least trying to take care of people. My quirk makes my fingers literally itch when I see injuries. They itch and they don’t stop itching until I do something about it. Helping people, healing people, is hard-wired into me- it’s as much something I do for me as it is something I do for others.” 

Bakugou’s eyes widen at that. He sits a little straighter, fists clenching as he presses them into the cushions. A few beats pass and then he’s grumbling, throwing himself back as he thrusts both of his injured knuckles forward.

“God, you’re so fucking irritating.” He gripes. “If you’re gonna be such a weirdo about it, then get the hell to it already.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead kneeling next to your coffee table and settling on the ground. You take his hands in yours, bending all his fingers to make sure nothing is broken. When nothing is, you look up at Bakugou, planning to tell him the good news, but he’s already looking at you. Your eyes meet, and he blinks, once, twice, before averting his eyes quickly. You think that maybe he blushes too, but he turns his head so sharply you’re almost convinced you imagined it.

You just try to shrug it off, focusing your attention back on his hands. You notice how warm they are again, nearly feverish and strangely unblemished. When you start rubbing bruise cream over knuckles, kneading the joints between your fingers, Bakugou sighs slumps back into the couch. He closes his eyes once more.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No. Can’t. Fuckin’ told ya already.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why.” You set his hands back on the couch, moving instead to unravel a bandage. “Not that I won’t help you, but have you tried any other remedies? Melatonin? Or lavender? Maybe chamomile? Any of those?”

“Mhm. Falling asleep isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?” 

 He opens his eyes, squinting at you from above. “None of your fuckin’ business.” 

“Bakugou, I’m trying to help here.”

“I don’t want-”

“Yeah. I know. You don’t want it. Or you don’t want to rely on it. I get it. But you wouldn’t have even came here if you didn’t absolutely need it, right?” You insist, grabbing his hands into yours again. “God, you know, I’ve had toddlers who were more cooperative than you. Why’re you so difficult?”

“I’m not fuckin’ difficult.”

“No. You’re difficult. Very difficult.” 

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying. Do me a favor and go back to being nice.” 

“Nope. Sorry. Pretty sure you didn’t like me then either.” You start wrapping the bandage around his knuckles, taking extra care to apply the right pressure. “And I was only nice to you because I was working, you know. I’m only actually nice to the people who deserve it.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes at that.

You finish wrapping the bandage, securing it into place with a bit of medical adhesive. All things considered, Bakugou looks better than before. Or at least, better than the death incarnate he’d been portraying himself as.

“All done.” You smile, turning away to start packing up your supplies.

“Finally. Took ya fuckin’ long enough.” 

“God, you are literally devoid of manners, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah. ‘s part of not bein’ an absolute bitch.”

You gawk, spinning around to face him. Bakugou’s relaxed into your couch, arms laid across the back leisurely as he smiles. There’s that same softness to his eyes from before, the crinkling just at the edges.

“Wow.” You scoff, smiling sarcastically. “You really think you’re so funny don’t you?” 

“I do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Yeah. Because you’re fuckin’ brainless.”

“Brainless? Me? Swear to god, you only know, like, three words and all of them are probably swears!” 

Bakugou just shrugs, looking abnormally pleased. Content even. You figure that’s probably right for someone like him- only happy when everyone around him is devolving into chaos.

“Actually, you know what, I think I’m done yelling for the night.” You say, shucking your gloves off. You wiggle your fingers at him, a smirk plastered across your face. “I think it’s time you’re euthanized, don’t you?”

Bakugou just blinks, minutely shrinking away from you.

“Because you said you wanted me to put you to sleep, right? To put you down. Like a dog.” You continue, nearing him, coming close even as his lip curls up. Bakugou is glaring fully now, fists clenched, and you stop just a few inches out of his reach. “Or, you know, in ruder terms- not a dog, but a bitch.”

Bakugou snarls, lunging at you as you duck away. He’s fast but you’re faster, vaulting behind your couch to create some distance. There’s fire in his eyes, blazing and hot in his irises, but it isn’t scary. If you look close enough, you’re almost sure it’s just warmth. That same rare amusement from earlier.

“You leech. Swear to fuck I’ll make you regret that. Say your goddamn prayers!” 

“Touch me and you’ll fall asleep!” You tease. “Or I’ll use my quirk and see into your brain. So I guess it’s more of a ‘pick your poison’ for you, really.” 

“It’ll be the same for you.” Bakugou growls, hands grasping the back of the couch as he leans in towards you. “Open casket or closed, it’s still gonna be your fuckin’ funeral.” 

“Really?”

“Really. Leech.”

“No thanks.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no thanks’,” Bakugou mimics your voice, his features twisting. “I’m killing you. You’re dead. You don’t get a choice.” 

“No, I really think I do.”

“And just what the fuck makes you so goddamn confident?”

“This. You not attacking me.” You smile easily, voice daring as you stare right back at him. “If you really wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Isn’t that right, Dynamite?” 

The name sends Bakugou recoiling, shrinking backwards and scoffing in outright shock. You watch him stumble, legs hitting your coffee table and nearly causing him to fold. He recovers quickly though, albeit with his cheeks flushing wildly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Nah. Thanks for the offer though.” You smile brightly, before throwing your arms above your head and yawning widely. “As fun as that was, I’m pretty tired. You ready to fall asleep, yet?”

“Jesus fuck, yes. That’s the entire goddamn reason I’m even here. Idiot.”

“No name calling. You agreed.”

“I didn’t agree to shit.”

“You did.” You affirm. “Now, c’mon, like last time, hold your hand out.” 

With surprisingly little dramatics or resistance, Bakugou listens. He thrusts one of his bandaged hands forward as he sits on the couch again. When you touch his fingers, you feel that faint warmth again. Like fire and embers coursing through your bloodstream. It’s uncomfortable, a relentless sensation that has you cringing. You briefly wonder what it would be like to always live with it. Like Bakugou seems to. 

His eyes flutter shut just like last time, and you can see the way he staggers. It’s like the fight leaves him entirely, and then he’s falling boneless into the couch. You can hardly place a pillow onto the cushions before he’s driving his head into it.

“Jesus,” You mutter in disbelief. “How long has it been since you slept? You look dead.” 

“Weeks.” Bakugou mumbles.

“Since the last time?” 

“Mhm.”

If his words alone didn’t confirm the severity of his sleeplessness for you, his response time did. Bakugou answered quickly, without fight, like he’d been wanting to spill for the entire night. And, you suppose, maybe he did; or was trying to. In hindsight, you begin to realize a lot of his screaming could just as easily have read as cries for help- not that you’d ever tell him that. You’d probably have to prepare a will if you ever tried telling him that.

“You want a blanket?” You ask a little unsurely, not exactly confident in your approach to this entirely different Bakugou. “All you’re getting is the couch, but I could probably scrounge up a few blankets.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond. All you hear in response are tiny little snores and slow breathing. 

You find it reminds you of the last time- the way you’re reaching into a cupboard and grabbing out a blanket for him. Except this time, it’s a little bit different. Somehow you’re settling the blanket over him with a little bit of genuine kindness instead of begrudging sympathy.

After all, you can’t help but feel a little bit of pity- no one would ever fall asleep that fast unless they really needed it. Especially not in a stranger’s house. 

--/--

enjoy my lovelies :))

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou fic #bakugou series #bnha fic #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #mha fic #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x y/n

[raevenlywrites]

Sometimes I feel like the only person on here who DOESNT want to become friends with all my mutuals. Who is content with exchanging comments on reblogs and in the tags but would actually prefer not to feel the added social pressure of carrying on an entire conversation with a stranger :/

It's so hard, because I want to be friendly, but I dont actually wanna just... chat. That's not what I come to tumblr for.

And that's not to say that I haven't had perfectly enjoyable conversations. I've seriosuly debated whether or not I should even make this post several dozen times over, because I know folks are gonna miss the point, miss my side of things, and just internalize this as proof that they should never talk to anyone ever.

Yall.

I'm 35, with a wife and full time job.

I am not your fellow high schooler or collegiate, who is actually pretty desperate for friends and would love to be messaged.

I'm not saying that no adult wants to be your friend. I am not saying that only kids want to be friends.

I am saying that for Me, the message of "just DM anyone and everyone youd like to be friends with your be surprised how much they want to talk too were all just shy little beans!!!!" Just makes me so tired.

It makes me feel bad.

Like, why the fuck am I on a social media site if I don't want to socialize?

Except I do.

Just not to that degree.

So yeah. I feel like the party in the wrong, the odd man out, the only weirdo on this whole dang site who reacts to the incoming message sound with mixed feelings at best. It makes me wonder what's wrong with me that I don't get excited at the idea of making small talk with strangers, that I'm not totally omg flattered that someone thinks I'm a cool person to talk to.

And even now, several paragraphs into this confession (and boy it does feel like a confession, guilt of wrong doing and all), I'm still debating even posting this. Debating if airing my feelings is worth the hurt and doubt i know it's going to put in some peoples hearts.

I'm not vague blogging. I'm not subtweeting. There is no secret one target of this message. I dont hate you. I'm not even thinking of you in particular when I type this because it isnt about You. Its about Me. It's about me feeling weird for not liking random messages, random attempts at friendship. That is me and my reactions to socializing. Not a reflection on you, not a caution about being careful who you message cause it might annoy them. For all I know, I really am the Only person on this entire site that feels this way.

But they're my feelings. And it's my blog. And I'm allowed to feel how I feel.

#raev rants

[vagrantblvrd]

how do din and luke meet in that modern au?

Oooh, so.

I don’t know why but I really like the idea of Din being the handyman at his apartment complex - gets a cut on his rent and pretty flexible schedule to take care of his tiny gremlin kid - but also?

Lends a hand at Cara’s gym or Boba’s bike shop or something and Luke comes in because his bike is acting up and he can’t figure it out?

Like, Luke’s usually pretty good about keeping his bike up to speed and stuff but there’s something wrong with it he can’t figure it out?

Din’s filling in for one of Boba’s guys, only one in when Luke pulls in and it’s like oh, no, he’s ridiculously attractive, and somehow he manages not to make a fool of himself.

He thinks Luke might be flirting with him??? There’s a lot of smiling and even some leaning, Luke in that yellow jacket of his and big old smile and pretty blue eyes leaning on the counter telling Din all about his bike woes and such with this smile like hey, what can you do, right?

Meanwhile Din’s gripping the ballpoint pen so tight the the plastic cracks - one of those clear plastic ones, name of Boba’s shop worn away from use and whatnot, and he is trying, okay, he is trying to be a professional but Luke is making it really, really hard. NO. Difficult. Luke is making it really, really difficult.

He has no idea what he writes down on the paperwork. Boba calls him up the next day trying to make sense of it and Din is like shit because for the life of him he cannot recall anything about the whole encounter aside from Luke. (Well, okay, he does once his brain kicks into gear, but when he’s talking to Boba on the phone it’s static.)

Anyway.

Luke with his big smile and pretty blue eyes and all that leaning and Din goes out to check on Luke’s bike and it’s something that needs a new part, and Luke’s bike is an older model - “It was my dad’s,” he says, this odd smile on his face, something that tells Din it’s better not to ask after that tidbit just yet - and he’ll have to order it. Should be at the shop in a day or two, and they’ll have Luke back on the roan in no time.

Because Reasons it’s not safe to drive the bike, and Boba’s shop doesn’t really do courtesy shuttle service, but Luke came in close enough to closing that Din’s sure there won’t be any more customers and Din does have his minivan, so...

And, okay, it might seem a little creepy, but also common decency since Luke mentioned being new in town and he probably doesn’t know that many people, and anyway. It would be weird to kick him out of the shop and just drive off, right????

Besides, it’s been cloudy all week and the forecasts look like they might be right for once because it feels like it’s going to be a hell of a storm, and he’d feel bad if he made Luke wait for his ride in the rain.

So Din offers to give Luke a ride home or wherever after he closes the shop, Luke tries to tell him it’s no problem, he can call a cab or a rideshare - he has a friend in town, old family friend or something but it’s kind of late and anyway, no need to go to all that trouble?

But Din insists, and it’s not like Luke’s putting up much of a fight about it, and he just hangs around while Din closes up the shop and locks up and then gets in Din’s minivan and it’s not as weird as either of them thought it would be?

They don’t really talk on the way aside from Luke offering up an address and such and Din grumbling about traffic and detours and construction. Mentions offhand to Luke about what to look out for when traffic picks up and so on.

At this point I don’t know if I like Luke staying at Obi-Wan’s place at the moment or not, but you know what would be hilarious?

If Luke gives Din his address and Din is just like ah, yes, I know exactly where that is and they zoom off in that direction only for him to have the belated realization that wait, wait. That’s my apartment complex.

But maybe that come later, you know?

A few weeks, maybe a month or two after their first meeting and Luke’s bike is acting up again and he has to bring it back into the shop and he and Din do this whole thing over again?

Only this time Luke is like, well, hot bike shop guy didn’t react badly to my flirting the first time, why not kick things up a notch? And poor Din is like oh, no, this is terrible when it’s really the exact opposite.

And maybe before he wasn’t really in the frame of mind to be looking at getting into a relationship of any kind? Busy with Grogu and work and other stuff and no real time to consider it, but things have evened out in his life and it might be nice, and then Luke walks back into his life and he’s like hmm, why not?

So double flirting and Din is pretty sure it is flirting this time - Luke did the thing when he handed his keys over, you know the one. Fingers brushing, lingering, intense eye contact and smiles - and anyway, yes.

It’s a few hours to closing, but Boba won’t mind if Din closes the shop early and Luke puts up a token protest about Din driving him home, and this time, okay, this time.

Luke gives Din his address and Din is like okay, great! And it isn’t until they’re actually on the road - the one he takes whenever he leaves Boba’s shop on his way home that he’s like, huh, and not until he’s halfway to their destination that he’s like weird.

Because last time he could have sworn Luke lived in the opposite direction, but he did say he was staying with a friend at the time, what with being new in town and all.

Still.

It’s not until he sees his the apartment complex he lives in come into view that he’s like wait, wait, wait.

His boss told him someone was moving in to one of the apartment units a week or so ago, and while he’d made note of it at the time it hadn’t come up since then.

Din stares at the apartment complex for a moment, and then looks at Luke who is all ??? at his reaction.

“You live here?” Din asks, brain no co-operating with him, so of course that’s the first thing he say.

Luke is still ??? but he’s like “Yeah, I just moved in last week. Still settling in, but it seems nice.”

Din is like. “...” because he’s convinced this is the universe playing a joke on him. (Or maybe his asshole friends, who knows.)

“Uh, yeah,” Din says, awkward as hell.

There’s a little more awkwardness before Luke starts to get out - and stops. Stares out the windshield and Din is like ??? because Luke says in an undertone, “You can do this, you’re a Skywalker,” and rips off a corner of his copy of the slip Din gave him for his keys at the shop.

Gives Din this awkward look and a little “Excuse me,” as he snags the pen in Din’s workshirt and writes his number on that bit of paper. Gives Din this crooked little smile and tips his head before it clicks that oh, oh shit. Luke’s giving him his number.

And not, you know, because of work reasons. Because his bike and Boba’s shop and just. (God, he’s a mess.)

Din takes the paper and Luke beams at him before he slips out of Din’s little minivan with a “Call me sometime!” that’s almost swallowed by the rain because rainy season and Din sits in his dumb little minivan for a long, long time after that with Luke’s number clutched in his hand and brain full of !!! because !!!.

But also, also.

Din hearing about Luke all over the place because he works with that family friend of his - Ben, something? - with some kind of youth program and he went to Cara’s gym about holding classes there or something?

Turns out he and his family friends do something with sword? Or yoga or something, Cara wasn’t clear on it, just wanted to tell him all about these weirdos and what kind of sucker did she look like? (Din rolls his eyes because he knows her, knows she said yes, and probably cut them a sweeter deal than they were expecting and anyway, anyway, he hears about Luke from her which is unexpected to say the least.

And then there’s Boba, who gets this look on his face when he realizes Dins a little moony over this guy he met, someone he met through Boba’s shop, and then it’s -

“Wait, what?”

Because Boba used to be a bounty hunter back before he settled down and opened his bike shop and Din worked with/for him a bit before Grogu came into his life and he realized he needed something steadier for the kid.

Boba’s the one to tell him about Luke being buddies with Han, and after Din sees Luke’s tattoo and hears all about his days with his biker gang back home - “It really wasn’t a biker gang, Din, really” digs up an old bounty on Luke.

Old, old, from when the whole Family Drama was going down and anyway, it was a long time ago and everything’s been cleared up and just. Don’t worry about it, okay?

Anyway, before all that there’s Luke moving a new couch into his place one day and Din on his way back from fixing someone’s sink or whatever and offers to help?

Luke is like, “Um,” because what is Din doing there?

To which Din is like, “So, i didn’t realize it at the time,but I, too, live in this apartment complex and am also the resident handyman.”

:)???

Luke just looking at him over the top of his stupidly heavy couch because what are the odds?

Din feeling a little awkward and about to scuttle on home, but Luke snorts and take Din up on his offer of help and after struggling to get it up to Luke’s place and in the door, they collapse on the couch - stupidly heavy but surprisingly comfortable.

And it’s late afternoon and Luke didn’t have time for breakfast and Din straight up skipped it getting Grogu off to to daycare. Cara’s picked him up, and she likes to keep him with her until Din calls or she leaves the gym which gives him a free afternoon, and anyway.

They order pizza and watch terrible television because they’re too damn tired to do anything else and it’s actually really nice and maybe, maybe, they kind of gravitate towards one another somewhere in there.

Dip in the couch cushions or something and leaning against one another, maybe Din’s arm goes on the back of the couch and Luke’s shoulders happen to be right there, who can say.

(Maybe, maybe, there’s this little moment when Din’s leaving because Cara texted to let him know she’s bringing Grogu back and he has to leave and Luke sees him to the door where they just kind of...look at one another.

Soft smiles and so on, and not quite at the smooching stage just yet - Din helped him move his couch, Luke fed him pizza, a date that is not - and yet?

Luke might feel a little cheeky, might dart in and press a quick little kiss  to Din’s cheek and laugh at the look on his face, might say, “I had fun, we should do it again sometime,” before Din’s phone buzzes again, Cara almost to the complex and Din has to go, and Din, okay, Din is like.

“I’d like that,” and have to run even though he really doesn’t want to, wants to spend more time with Luke, but his kid, and anyway, anyway, maybe they can go on an actual date next time.

(They kind of don’t though, but that’s fine because they have a good time anyway, and they do manage to get to the smooching stage, which is just really, really nice.)

#replies #anon #star wars nonsense #dinluke #modern au idea #technichally not a fic #vagrant fic #long post #Anonymous

[lu-undy]

I'm not sure if you've already written something like this, but what about Spy showing Sniper his face for the first time?

Here it is!

"Mh…"

"Mornin' gorgeous." 

Spy smiled as he felt Sniper's lips on his back, peppering kisses there. The taller man was spooning him, his hands slid along the Frenchman's slim silhouette, on his pyjamas. 

"Sniper…"

"Let me just…" The Aussie's hands had laced up to Spy's collar. He undid the first few buttons before he pulled down the shirt, freeing Spy's shoulders to kiss them. His rough hands touched the porcelain white skin and his lips gently grazed it, slowly melting from here to there. Spy lowered his head and closed his eyes, feeling Sniper on his back now. Their legs slid against each other's, under the blanket. 

"S-Sniper…" 

"Don't worry, I won't remove it." He whispered back, pushing the edges of the mask up to reach further up Spy's back. He kissed and nipped, gently. "Gosh, you're so soft." 

Spy smiled, his eyes still closed, and he bit his lip. 

"You of all people should know it by now." He answered before he heard Sniper chuckle behind him. 

"Spook?" 

"Oui?" 

"Will you let me see your face one day?" 

Spy opened his eyes and frowned. 

"I… Do not know." He rolled to face Sniper and the Aussie slid his hands to the Frenchman's masked face. 

"I'm sure you look gorgeous under that thing." 

"Merci, but…" Spy averted his gaze. "I do not think it is a good idea. Not at all."

"Oh, ok… I-I mean we're alone here, the doors are closed and all, no one else would see you." 

"It is not about that." Spy answered. 

"What is it, then?" 

"A lot of things." He buried his face in Sniper's chest. "One of them is that you will realise that I am far older than you are, far more grey, tired and beaten up by life."

"No you're not. And even if you were, I couldn't care less."

"Sniper, I… I am not the arrogant womanizer that people see in me." 

"I know, you also like men." 

"That is not what I meant." 

"Oh?" 

Spy frowned harder and sighed. 

"I cannot show you my face, I am sorry." 

"It's… Ok, alright. I don't really get it but it's not worth fightin' over."

Spy raised his eyes to his lover. 

"What?" 

"All I'm sayin' is that well, I'd love to see you entirely but it's fine. I guess we can go on like that." 

"You have seen so much more about me, Sniper, I have lain naked in front and under you before." 

"I know but… It's odd that in your head you should hide your face more than your… y'know." 

"Well, people can recognise me with my face, not with what I have between my legs." 

"Yeah, I get it but… Still, a bit of a shame, I think." 

Sniper removed his hands from Spy's face and looked away. Silence fell in the Frenchman's room. The only noise was the tireless ticks and tocks of the alarm clock on the night table. 

"I am superstitious." Spy's voice slashed the silence. 

"What?" 

"I am superstitious." Spy repeated.

“What’s it got to do with what we were talkin’ about?”

“Everything.”

“Spook, you make no sense.”

“Of course, I do.” Spy closed his eyes out of annoyance. "You just do not understand."

"Tell me." 

Spy laid his head on Sniper's chest and took his large hand in both of his. 

"I thought it was only stories but I now fully believe it. Each time that I show my face to a person that is dear to my heart, they… They go away." 

Sniper's eyebrows jumped. 

"What?"

"It is a curse. Anyone I have shown my face to ends up leaving me, either just moving on away from me, or worse." Spy explained before he sat up on the bed, next to his lover. Sniper sat up too and laced an arm around Spy. 

"So you always wear it now, because you're scared it'll happen again?" 

"I remove it if I do not care about the person my heart chose." 

And Sniper understood that if Spy kept his mask on at all times with him, it was because the Aussie counted an awful lot to him.

"I… Hold on, you say that people went away as if they have left you in the past. How the hell could they leave you?" 

Spy lowered his head and sighed. 

"Because at some point, they discover who I am and… and it is better that way." Spy freed himself from his lover and stood up. He slipped on his dressing gown and locked himself up in his bathroom. 

Sniper watched him move away and sighed. He both found Spy's words ridiculous and heart-breaking. He wished he could do something to help. He scratched his naked chest and ruffled his hair on his head. 

Well, he should get up and make some coffee. That would give Spy some time to feel better maybe. 

Sniper got to his feet and grabbed his shirt that he put on, but kept open. He went to Spy's kitchen and got the cafetiere ready. He put two mugs next to it and started to gather the toasts and butter, from the fridge. He turned the radio on and let the chatter occupy his thoughts. 

When the coffee was ready and the smell gently floated in the Frenchman's suite, Sniper readied a pan and broke a couple of eggs in a bowl. He knew that Spy liked an omelette in the morning, so he got to work. After beating the eggs vigorously, he went to the fridge to take that goat cheese that his lover liked so much and added some to the mix before spreading it on the oiled pan. 

Sniper watched as the liquid eggs hardened while the goat cheese melted. Suddenly, the light switched off in the kitchen. He raised his head to the bulb and headed to the switch when a hand stopped his wrist. 

"Non, please." 

"What?"

"Don't turn the light on." Spy hugged his lover, and Sniper's pupils retracted to a dot as his eyes snapped wide. He didn't feel the fabric of Spy's mask on his chest, no. He felt Spy's skin, and even some of his hair. "Close your eyes." 

Sniper obeyed and felt Spy move away from him. 

"I will blindfold you."

"My eyes are closed, Spook."

"I don't want to risk it." Spy answered as he turned around Sniper, who felt a smooth cloth over his eyes. Spy was behind him tying the cloth. "Now…" He took Sniper's hands and stuck them on his face, one on each of his cheeks. 

The Aussie's eyebrows rose as he touched a face he wished he could do more than touch. He closed his eyes behind the blindfold and tried to project the image of what his curious digits were discovering. 

Eyebrows, eyelids, yeah, he knew those. Gosh, Sniper could feel the lines at the corner of Spy's eyes. He loved those. Whenever he smiled, they smiled with him. And the Aussie had the same too… 

Nose, mouth but oh my God, what was that…? Spy's hair… Rather short on the sides and behind his head as well, longer on top. So soft and straight, it flowed between Sniper's fingers like threads of silk.

His thumbs brushed Spy's forehead, his eyebrows and down his temples, his naked cheeks to end on his lover's lips. They were pursed up in a smile. 

"I-your hair feels amazin'." 

"Merci. It is grey at the front here…" Spy took Sniper's hand and guided him. "And on the temples, here and here. The rest struggles to stay black." 

"Gosh…" Sniper bit his lip. "I wish I could see it… And see you really. It's hard to imagine it all with just my hands touchin' you."

"I am sorry. I wish I could but…" 

"Hey, it's fine. It's ok." 

Spy put his hands flat on Sniper's, which were sandwiching his face. 

"I… I cannot afford to lose you. I know it is egotistic, but non. Y-you are… non." 

"Hey…?"

"I would rather lie to you about my face and live with the guilt of lying to you continuously, rather than risk losing you." 

"Love… I… I don't want to force you and I'm not forcin' you but you know I'm not gonna leave you. You know I don't care about what you look like, you could look horrible and I'd still stay, cause I don't just like you for your face. I just… You're such a good bloke, and a pleasure to live with."

"Sniper, I have heard these words a million times before and yet…"

"Mundy. Name's Mundy. I have only my parents, no siblings. They… They adopted me. They own a little farm in the Outback, nothin' big, just enough to pay the bills and keep them busy. I… When I was a kid, I was bad at school and dropped it as soon as I could. Been workin' with huntin' contracts ever since because Dad had shown me how to and there was nothing else I was half-decent at."

Spy frowned. 

"Why are you telling me all this?" 

"Because I want you to understand that I… I-I… I don't just stay with you to spend the nights and all… It's… What do I need to do for you to get it? I… I bloody love you!" Mundy burst out. "I won't leave you, I… If I could I'd stay with you forever!" 

"If you could?" Spy asked. 

"If… If… I was never the one who left anyone. I was always the one who got dumped."

"Why?" 

"Because people don't see themselves buildin' anything with me! I'm a weirdo who lives in a van, I don't have a house or a flat of my own, my address is still my parents'. It's-it's not like I have a normal job and a normal life and…" Sniper pulled Spy's head against his chest and held him close. "You're one of the very few blokes I really feel like… Like we can be a bit more than just what we are. I mean… It makes so much sense. No one gets it, you and me, but-but I feel it. I feel comfy with you, like you've always been with me and… Spook, please… What do I need to do for you to believe me?" 

Silence fell for a while and their embrace was intense. 

"I would love to believe you." The Frenchman said and felt one of Sniper's hands in his hair, his fingers between his locks and pressing him against his bare chest. 

"Why don't you?"

"I am scared… Mundy." 

"Don't be. I'm here." He bent his head down to kiss Spy's hair. "Gosh, even your hair smells of you." 

"Thank you."

"Spook…"

"Lucien." Spy answered, nuzzling in his lover's chest. "My name is Lucien. My parents left this world a long time ago and I have no other family left. My mother used to be a dressmaker, and my father, a lawyer. They lived in the South-West of France, where I was born and raised, under the sun, and between green and red grapes."

"Why're you tellin' me all this now?" 

"Because I am more scared than ever." 

"Why? I got you here, you're in my arms, nothin's gonna get to you."

"Oui but… Hold on." 

Lucien pushed himself away from his lover's embrace and Mundy felt the cloth around his eyes go. 

"C-can I open my eyes? You put your mask back?" 

"Oui." Lucien flipped the switch to turn the lights on. 

"Gosh, Spook!" Mundy slapped his hands on his face as soon as he realised that his lover had lied and he hadn't put his mask back on. "Bugger I nearly saw you!"

"Please…" Sniper felt his lover's hands on his wrists, pulling them down. 

"Spook…"

"Lucien." Spy corrected him and as he removed Sniper's hands from his face, he saw that the Aussie had kept his eyes closed. 

"But you said you didn't like it if I saw you." 

"I have changed my mind." 

"Why?" Mundy continued to speak with closed eyes. 

"Because of what you said." 

Mundy felt his lover's hands on his naked chest. He opened his eyes.

"Oh bloody hell… Look at you… You're…" 

His hands immediately went back to Lucien's face and touched again, stroking, brushing, grazing, his eyes darted left, right, up and down. 

"My God… H-how…?"

Lucien tried smiling, but not too much. He was very self conscious about his age showing in the million wrinkles on his face when he smiled. 

"What do you think - mh?!" 

Spy was surprised mid-sentence by his lover's lips. And the intensity, the force with which he was pulling his body and his hair, his very lips too into the kiss. The Frenchman almost felt his feet take off of the ground. 

"What was that about?" He asked, although being as breathless as his lover. 

"How could you ever think you're too old or ugly or whatever? You look better than in my dreams, you look… Y-you… I-I don't know what the word is, or even if the word exists or-or maybe there's a sentence or maybe an expression? Bloody hell, what am I sayin?!" Mundy's voice was high-pitched and broken, he was out of air and stopped to catch his breath for a while. "You're gorgeous, you're so beautiful, you're… How could people leave you after seein' your face, you look bloody fantastic." Mundy pulled his lover close and hugged him all over, ending with his cheek on top of Lucien's head. 

"Mundy…?"

The Aussie rolled his eyes and closed them in bliss, scratching his lover's head as he would a cat. 

"Say my name with that accent once more and we're gonna skip breakfast to go straight for lunch." He growled. 

"Mundy?"

"Gosh…" 

"May we still have breakfast?" 

"Maybe." 

Both smiled and Mundy kissed his lover on the head.

"Lucien?"

"Oui?"

"Why did you change your mind?" 

Lucien raised his eyes to his lover. 

"I told you, because of what you said." 

"What did I say?" 

The Frenchman smiled and blushed. This time, Mundy could see it so clearly that he couldn't help but stare, and his own cheeks turned pink. 

"You said that you loved me." Lucien answered. 

"Yeah, and I do." 

Their smiles widened. 

"It is the first time you tell me this." 

"Yeah, it's hard to say." 

"Indeed, it is." Their eyes met and lingered. "I love you too, Mundy." 

"Alright, you looked for it…" The Aussie dragged his lover out of the kitchen. 

"What-? Where-?"

"Bedroom, now. Breakfast in bed…" 

"What?" Lucien asked as he was led to the bed.

"C'mere…" The Aussie pushed his lover deeper in the sheets.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Laito Route ー Chapter 2

ー The scene starts in cafe ‘Tarte Tatin’

*Ding ding*

Waiter A: Welcome.

Laito: A table for two, please. (1)

Waiter A: For two, you said? My sincere apologies. There are no free tables right now, so could you perhaps wait a liーー

Laito: Nfu~ What about the VIP seats out on the terrace?

Waiter A: ...How do you know about those...?

Laito: Fufu~ I’d rather not have you underestimate me~

They’re available, right? Come on, hurry up and escort us.

Waiter A: ...

Laito: Also, this lady over here is this year’s Queen of the Carnival, you know?

Yui: Eh...? Me...!?

Laito: Are you sure you can keep the Queen waiting~? 

Waiter A: I-I shall go confirm with my manager so...!

ー The waiter runs off

Yui: C-Come on, Laito-kun...Why would you mention the Queen thing!?

Laito: Eh? Why, you ask...? I only spoke the truth, right?

Yui: Even so, you shouldn’t threaten him.

Laito: You see, this cafe has seats on the terrace which are reserved for VIPs.

You are the Queen while I am a direct descendant of that man, so I don’t see the problem?

Yui: B-But...

Laito: Ah-ah, that being said, as to be expected of the Carnival. It’s packed in here.

There’s Vampires everywhere I look, it’s making me sick.

Yui: Geez, Laito-kun...

( But he’s right, so even Vampires like to lounge in a cafe like this... )

( Honestly, now that I’m here, the Demon World is completely different from what I imagined. )

ー The head waiter arrives

Head waiter: Dear customers, my sincere apologies for the wait. Well then, I shall show you towards the terrace seats.

Laito: See~? They were available after all. Didn’t I tell you?

Head waiter: ...! You are...! Che...

Yui: ...?

( This waiter...Did he just click his tongue after glancing at Laito-kun...? )

Head waiter: ...Well then, I shall escort you. This way, please...

Laito: Well, let’s go. Come on, Bitch-chan...Your hand, please~

Yui: Y-Yeah...

ー They start walking

Yui: ( I wonder if I just imagined it...? )

¨TIMESKIP*

Head waiter: This is our menu.

Laito: Well then, what do you want, Bitch-chan?

Yui: Uhm...Let’s see.

Laito: Nfu~ You can take your time. In the meantime, I’m going to step away for a few seconds... (2)

Yui: Eh? Step away...? Where are you going?

Laito: I’ll be right back, don’t worry. I just remembered I forgot a little something~

Yui: Something you forgot?

*Thud*

Laito: Nfu~ Exactly. A little something~

Yui: ( H-Hold up...He’s going to leave me all by myself!? )

( Actually, he’s the one who told me not to leave his side earlier... )

Laito: What’s that~? You look awfully anxious, Bitch-chan...

Yui: I mean...

Laito: No need to worry, really. I’ll be back before you know it. See you~

Yui: Ah! Laito-kun...!

ー Laito leaves

Yui: ( He actually left... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( Laito-kun’s not coming back... )

( Also, everyone’s stares are really making me uncomfortable... (3) )

( Laito-kun, please come back soon... )

Head waiter: Dear customer, please excuse me.

ー He takes a seat across of Yui

*THUD*

Yui: ...!

*THUD*

Yui: ( W-What...? This waiter’s manner of speech is very polite, but he’s extremely violent. )

Head waiter: Che. That damn fiend...He’s acting as if he owns our VIP terrace again!

I do not care if he is a son of the Sakamaki household, I am going to tell him my mind today or I will go crazy!

I am sick and tired of getting pushed around by that lad! I’m pretty sure he was lying earlier as well?

There is just no way a little human girl like you could be the Queen of the Carnival!

ー This catches the other customers attention as they start making a fuss 

Yui: !

( H-He’s talking way too loud! )

( O-Oh no...Now even the customers all the way in the back have turned around and are looking my way! )

U-Uhm, you see...

Head waiter: ...Hmph. Well, I do not care about your personal convenience at all.

I assume you probably got yourself involved in dangerous business. How pitiful.

...You’re just a puny little human!

Yui: ( Once again, keep your voice down...! )

ー The others approach Yui

Yui: ( ...For some reason everyone’s gathering this way...It’s turning into a whole crowd! )

Head waiter: ...Well, I’m pretty sure it’s too late already, but let me give you one warning.

If you stay with him, nothing good will come your way?

Yui: Eh...? What do you mean...?

ー The waiter leaves

Yui: ( Wait, he left... )

( Nothing good will come my way...He was talking about Laito-kun, right? )

( I wonder what Laito-kun has done in this store in the past...? )

...

( The crowd is still around... )

( What to do...? What if somebody were to attack me right now...? )

( Laito-kun isn’t around either... )

( Uu...I’ve gotten really anxious. )

ー Laito suddenly appears again

Laito: Haah~ Bitch-chan~ Your helpless expression looks rather anxious and lovely as well, you know?

Yui: Kyaah! L-Laito-kun!

Laito: Were you that lonely without me around? Nfu~

Yui: Y-You startled me...Where were you, for real? I...

Laito: Oh well, who cares?

Because you waited here for me like a good girl, I managed to fetch the thing I forgot.

Now I’ll stick by your side for the rest of the day, okay...?

Right. In that case, why don’t you take a seat on my lap instead of on that chair?

Yui: N-No thank you...

Laito: Eeh~What a shame!

Ah, by the way, have you decided on your order?

Yui: Ah...I’m sorry. Come to think of it, I have yet to think about it.

Laito: Geez, you really are so hopeless, Bitch-chan...

Nfu~ You really can’t do anything without me around, can you?

Yui: That’s not it...

*Creaak*

Laito: By the way, Bitch-chan. Did you know that the name of this cafe, ‘Tarte Tatin’, is actually the name of a dessert?

Yui: Eh? No...I did think it sounded like one though.

Laito: Hey, hey! You’re obviously interested in it now, right?

After all, you’re the one who suggested we would go in here, remember?

Yui: ( The dessert which became the name of this cafe... )

Selection

→ I’m interested! (☾)

Yui: Do you know what kind of sweet it is?

Laito: Nfu~ Of course I do.

In that case, I’ll teach you everything about the tarte tatin~

...The ins and outs, get it?

Yui: Yeah...

( But...Come to think of it, Laito-kun likes macarons, right? )

( He might actually be knowledgeable about other desserts as well... )

Laito: Fufu. In that case...From your human perspective, this story takes place in the long, distant past...

There was this hotel called ‘Tatin’ in a small village in the French region of Sologne.

The cook there was just so busy, he accidentally messed up on one of the apple tarts one day.

Yui: Eh? He messed up?

Laito: Exactly~ So, to try and fix his mistake somehow, through trial and error...

This tart...The tarte tatin was born by pure coincidence!

Yui: Heeh! Amazing! So that’s how the story goes.

To think he invented a whole new dessert through a simple mistake...

Laito: Nfufu~ Right? Makes you want to try out stuff...No matter what it may be, no?

→ A little?

Yui: Yeah...I guess I am a little?

Laito: Right? Of course you’d be. You can’t wait to try it, right? I totally get you.

Yui: ...? Laito-kun?

Laito: In other words...

I think we should try ordering this place’s tarte tatin.

Yui: I see. Since it’s called ‘tarte tatin’, it must be a tart of some sorts, right?

Laito: It’s just a regular apple tart. Nothing special about it.

Yui: ( ...? Isn’t he acting a little odd? )

Laito, Say, say, you want to give it a taste too, don’t you?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

( I feel like he’s really insistent about having me try this tart...? )

Laito: I heard it’s the number one seller on the menu since the cafe is named after it.

Yui: Heeh, I see!

( But well, he’s recommending it to me this strongly... )

In that case, I’ll try ordering this ‘tarte tatin’, I guess.

Laito: Nfu~ Okay! Waiter! Two tarte tatins, please! Oh, and tea as well~!

Yui: ( Haah...For now, I’m glad Laito-kun actually came back...I feel relieved. )

( That being said... )

Looking at it like this, this really doesn’t feel like the Demon World, does it?

Laito: Heeh, you’ve already gotten used to this world jam-packed with Vampires? As to be expected!

Yui: Ah, that’s not what I meant...

( Get used to it? If anything, I broke out in a cold sweat earlier... )

It’s just, I was thinking that between looking through the menu at a cafe like this, or calling over a waiter, there really isn’t much of a difference between both worlds.

Laito: Aah, that’s what you meant.

It seems like a lot of Vampires have become accustomed to human practices as of late.

Thanks to a certain weirdo...That is.

Yui: A certain weirdo...?

Laito: In short, the peculiar interests of a well-known Vampire King.

If not, do you really think a cafe which serves human suits would be this popular?

Yui: ( Laito-kun’s Father’s influence really is amazing... )

Laito: Ah, Bitch-chan. Seems like our tarts have arrived.

Head Waiter: ...Sorry for the wait.

Yui: Uwaah...! It smells lovely!

( It looks really good, but this is food from the Demon World, right...? )

( ...Considering that, I’m a little scared. )

Laito: Fufu...You’re not gonna eat?

Yui: Ah...S-Sorry!

Well then, let me have a bite...

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: ...! Kyah!

*Cling*

Yui: ( !? W-What’s this...!? )

Laito: Oh no! Are you okay, Bitch-chan?

Yui: Yeah, I just dropped my fork. I’m fine.

Laito: Geez...That bat really needs to learn some manners, disturbing a Vampire’s table like that...

Ah, hey, you there! My bad, but could you fetch us a new fork and knife?

Waiter A: Understood.

ー The waiter runs off

Laito: ...Phew. Ah, Bitch-chan. You can have mine. I had yet to dig in after all.

Yui: Eh? It’s fine. I’ll wait till he gets here...

Laito: No buts! No need to hold back. It’s ‘ladies first’ when it comes to this kinda stuff, no?

So, come on! Hurry up and have a bite?

*Thud*

Yui: I-In that case, I’ll dig in.

Laito: Go ahead, bon appetit~

*Cling*

Yui: ...! Delicious!

Laito: Really? I’m glad~ In that case, keep going! Here, have some tea too!

ー Laito pours her a cup of tea

Yui: T-Thank you...

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Phew, that hit the spot! Ah...Yours is kind of taking a while, don’t you think?

Laito: Aah, yeah. It’s fine though.

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( ...? H-Huh...? )

( For some reason...My body feels... )

Laito: Huh...? Is something wrong?

Yui: I-It seems kind of hot in here...all of a sudden...I wonder if it’s because of the tea...?

Laito: Eh? I don’t feel hot at all though...?

Do you feel unwell, perhaps? That’s bad! It’d be bad if something were to happen to the Queen of the Carnival!

Hey, Bitch-chan...? Are you okay? Your cheeks are sort of red as well. Do you have a fever maybe?

Yui: A fever...? B-But...

( I don’t have cold shivers or anything...How to put it...It’s like my body is flushed... )

ー Laito moves closer

Laito: Aah...My poor little Bitch-chan...

Your body is all flushed...You don’t know what to do? Right?

Yui: Eh...? How...?

Laito: Nfu~ After all...It’s thanks to the drug I snuck into the tart.

Yui: Eeh!? D-Drug!?

Laito: Exactly~ A little something which will make you feel hot and bothered~

Fufu~ The bat which flew at you earlier was one of my Familiars.

I set him up to ensure you would eat the tart which had the drug snuck into it~

Yui: ...! How could you! That’s so mean!

Laito: Aahn~ Oh you...~! I can’t get enough of that glare~

Haah...I knew I made the right choice going to fetch the drug earlier.

Yui: !? Don’t tell me, that’s why you left earlier...!?

Laito: Fufu~ That’s exactly why. Say, Bitch-chan...How do you feel right now...?

Aren’t you just dying to have me do this or that to you soon~?

You know...Something like this...?

*Rustle*

Yui: !

( H-His foot is...Under the table...! )

L-Laito-kun...! Stop!

Laito: Oh dear~ Did I brush against your leg? The table’s rather cramped after all. My bad, my bad~

Fufu...What’s wrong, Bitch-chan? Your face keeps on turning more and more red, it seems...?

But better be careful? We’re inside a crowded cafe after all...

You already stand out in this world as is...

If you behave too suspiciously, your surroundings will catch on in no time, you know?

Yui: ...!

Laito: Haah...Say, that feeling of doing something naughty is just so exciting, don’t you think?

*Rustle rustle*

Laito: You have to endure it so nobody finds out...Ah, but...

*Rustle*

Laito: Taking the offensive approach and simply exposing your everything...is a very valid choice in my personal opinion as well...~

Fufu, I’ve got turned on just from imagining it...Haah...Say, wanna just say fuck it and have a go?

Yui: W-What are you saying!? Cut it out already!

Laito: Aah~ ...I can’t hold back no longer...Hey, Bitch-chan, just a little bit, please...?

Let me suck your blood here...!

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: S-Stop! Laito-kun! Everyone’s looking, see!?

Laito: Isn’t that what makes it great...? Hey, come on...Starting with this arm...Hah...Nn...

ー Laito bites her

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Ow...No...!

Laito: ...Nn...Fufu. You’re so lewd, Bitch-chan...Letting your voice slip like that...

Look...Everyone’s watching us? Doesn’t it turn you on beyond belief...? Nn...

Nn...Haah...Now where should I suck from next...? Your nape...? Or maybe your shoulder...?

*Rustle*

Laito: Ah, right. Why don’t you just take off your clothes here already...? Nfu~

Yui: Stop!

( ...! The people around us are...! I have to stop him somehow...! )

( In that case...! )

...!

ー Yui knocks over his tea cup

*Shatter*

Laito: ...! Hot!

Geez, Bitch-chan! What are you doing!?

Yui: But...

Laito: Ah-ahー The cup broke because you made a fuss...

Yui: ( I had no other choice, or he would have never stopped I feel... )

Laito: Well, I won’t particularly get upset about this sorta thing though. More importantly, hurry up and let me...

ー The head waiter runs their way

Head waiter: ...!! Aaaah! How could this happen!?

Laito: ...What do you want? You’re so loud. We were just getting to the good part...Could you not get in our way, please?

Aah, if it’s about the other tart, you don’t need to bring that anymore.

Head waiter: How could you break that teacup!?

Yui: ( W-Was that teacup really so important...? Oh no...! )

U-Uhm, I’m the one who...I’m sorry...!

Laito: Ah-ah, I can’t believe this. 

A Vampire is getting his panties in a knot over just a little teacup...

Head waiter: ‘Just a little teacup’...Excuse me!? Do you have any idea how valuable of a good that was!?

Laito: Eeh? I don’t know. Besides, if it’s really that important, shouldn’t you have kept it locked away?

Head waiter: ...! Today you will not get away with this...!

ー He grabs hold of Laito

*Rustle*

Head waiter: Anyway, come here! I’ll have you explain the situation.

Laito: Haah~!? Why do I - the customer - have to do that!?

Head waiter: Shut up! Just come!

*Rustle*

Laito: Owow! What are you doing!? Didn’t you hear me when I said I don’t have the time for that right now!? Let me go!

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ...

( What should I do...? I’m the one who broke the cup though... )

( But it’s because Laito-kun was trying to do weird things... )

*Rustle*

Laito: Aahー Geez!

If I had known this would happen, I should have just sucked her blood right away without pulling any extra tricks!

Yui: ( H-He’s not reflecting upon his actions at all... )

( ...In that case... )

I’m sorry, Laito-kun!

ー Yui gets up and runs towards the door

Laito: Eh!? H-Hold up! Bitch-chan!?

Where are you going without me!? Hey, are you listening!?

ー Laito is taken away

*Thud*

Yui: ( Laito-kun, I’m sorry...! )

( Things really did go south after choosing Laito-kun as my bodyguard...! )

...Either way, I should probably head to the castle, huh?

( I should be able to pull that off somehow! )

ー She leaves the cafe

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Literally he says ‘it is just me and Bitch-chan...’, but since there is a set phrase in English to use when entering a cafe/restaurant and ask for a table of (amount) of people, I used that instead.

(2) 席を外す or ‘seki o hazusu’ is a common phrase in Japanese to say that you’re going somewhere real quick. (E.g. to the toilet, etc.)

(3) Literally she says that their stares are ‘painful’. Of course, this does not mean an actual physical pain, but it is making her uncomfortable.

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 1

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 3]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ AYATO]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ SUBARU ]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ YUMA ]

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #mblaitochapter2