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skyland2703 · 2 years

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OTP Asks: Boom! Comics; Billy/Skull (turnabout is fair play~): Who gets flustered watching the other peel and eat a banana? Who's the sensitive one (physically)? Who's the sensitive one (emotionally)? Do you have an AU thought?

If turnabout is fair play does that mean I get to send you Javelia? Don’t answer that.

Who gets flustered watching the other peel and eat a banana?

Billy! Skull knows just how much Billy tries to maintain a reputation, and while he wouldn’t want to do anything to tarnish it, that would hurt the boy, he is more than happy to make Billy get flustered with eye contacts and the very seductive eating of the banana, AFTER they start dating. So, this is how it goes: they’re sitting in the juice bar… so far, only Kim has managed to get it out of Billy, that the two of them are together— no one else knows (ok Bulk also knows) and Eugene just makes eye contact with Billy the first occasion he finds. After that, Billy is glancing at Eugene nervously anyway, and Skull finds THIS the best moment to take a banana, gently peel it, rub it along with his hands and— meanwhile Billy is just looking all red in the face and Jason Zack and Trini are just trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with him. They don’t know that his pants are too tight. They suspect it’s the shoes.

Who's the sensitive one (physically)?

Billy is the more physically sensitive one. He’s got a smaller frame, and a more sensitive body, with heightened senses in a lot of places anyway, and Eugene always makes sure he’s not hurting Billy every time they get together. He knows that Billy has a giant “Fragile: Handle with Care” sign printed all over his body. He know it, he respects it. For Skull, he’s not that physically sensitive, because the tough life has given him lessons, and under Bulk’s wing, he’s taken up a lot of exercise and workout routines, trying to fix his malnourished, used to be sensitive body. (Someone pleaee hug him.)

Who's the sensitive one (emotionally)?

SKULL SKULL SKULL SKULL SKULL. THERE IS NO QUESTION ABOUT THIS. ITS A GIVEN. He has a tough exterior but he tries. Oh god he tries to make it feel like he’s got no emotions. But he’s an open book, one that Billy can read even if he didn’t know the language— and he practically has a PhD in it. So Skull tries to hide his emotions, and he’s got a lot of them. Sometimes, when something hurts him, he lets it be, even though it kills him slowly. He wouldn’t confront Billy on disappearing to ranger battles when he didn’t know Billy was a ranger, keeping it to himself, the hurt that came with the self depreciating fact that “maybe I’m not good enough for him, and that’s why he’s making excuses to get away from me”. Billy found out, and he cried because he thought Eugene should trust him more than that, at least. “I love you. More than anything else. Please. Never say something like that again” That’s how the first confession from Billy had come around. And Eugene promised to be less self loathing, though that would still take some time— it’s not easy to mend what’s broken inside of you, you see.

Do you have an AU thought?

Excuse me, AN Au thought???!!?!!? I have AU thoughts for these idiots EVERY DAY. I mean it. They’re right after my Javelia AU ideas, I’m not kidding (can’t count SkyZ. I’ve exhausted AUs with them. Ask anyone) lets see: College AU, Tattoo Artist x Florist AU, Mafia AU (ngl that one sucked in my mind) I’ve got a roommates one already in my drafts, and a demolition lovers AU that I can list off the top of my head ^^

Now let’s see, what should we elaborate on rn?? Yes. Florist x Tattoo Artist AU. Involves ton of flower language and symbolism (yes, your line with the lilies got me thinking bout this… if you remember?) so Skull runs the tattoo place in a worn out run down area of the city, and Billy has a flower shop in one of the the better areas. Billy wants to try out new things, so he decides to get a tattoo, but he doesn’t know of what exactly. It’s another cliche meet cute, where the tattoo artist he finds is Skull and asks him to draw whatever feels like it’ll go with Billy’s personality, and weeeellllll….

#yes. yes I left it there on purpose #evil author things you know #anywayyyyyyyy #I almost dropped my phone in a bucket of water while typing this #billy cranston x eugene skull skullovitch #eugene skull skullovitch #billy cranston #mighty morphin power. rangers #headcanons #ask #^^ thanks for the ask!!

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chaptersinprogress · 4 years

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romeo this ain’t a tragedy, it’s a goddamn romance

The front door slammed open with a bang and a man in the Royal Thai Police uniform strode out.

“Stop right there boy!" he shouted, voice carrying clearly across the space.

Kongpob froze with his hand poised to throw the 10th egg. Fuckity fucking fuck.

Rating: M

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blackmail, violence, murder

Pairings: Arthit/Kongpob, brief Prae/Ting

Prompt: ‘im egging your house for a dare but your parent is a cop and they’re yelling at me so i told them that you were my ex and you wronged me and now you’re coming outside and please go along with this i don’t want to go to jail’ au - by @mraculous

an au of demolition lovers

Rage flooded Kongpob's veins as a laughing John and his friends displayed the damning photos in high-definition. Aim and Tew were frozen beside him, shocked and horrified by what they were seeing and the implications.

Photo after photo flickered by in a mocking slideshow - pictures of himself, Aim, Tew and Wad in varying states of undress in the university locker rooms, and some looking like they were picking fights with other people.

If the photos had been of Kongpob alone, he wouldn't have worried too much. There was nothing in there that could truly damage him irreparably even if they had been released.

Yes, his reputation would take a hit, but that could be easily cleared up. Besides, money talked, and he was fortunate enough to come from a family both financially and politically powerful. The whole situation could've been hushed up and action taken against the perpetrators.

But it wasn't just him involved.

Worst of all were the pictures of Prae and Ting. Plenty of candid photographs and selfies made it obvious that their relationship went far deeper than friendship. And some of them were very clearly meant to be private.

Case in point: the final picture - a sultry photo of Prae on a bed in the nude, sheets artfully draped over her curves.

If those pictures were leaked, the impact on Prae, her girlfriend, and their families would be devastating. Not only would Prae stand to lose her title as Campus Star, but the media would pounce on the scandal surrounding the heiress of one of the most prominent engineering firms in Thailand. That wasn't even considering the risk the company's position and the livelihood of their employees would face.

However, that wasn't what troubled him the most. The more pending concern was just how P'John and his goons had gotten their grubby paws on those last few photos. Because Prae and Ting were anything but careless. And since the probability that they could've gotten them from Ting was almost nil, that meant that they had a mole among their cohort.

Kongpob's lips curled over his teeth in a barely concealed snarl.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Tew shift slightly, subtly pulling out his phone and texting someone with one-hand, carefully concealing it behind his back. Some of the tension that had pulled his shoulders tight bled out.

Tew must've updated Ting on the situation. And if Ting knew, Ram would soon find out, and so would Duen. Savage satisfaction warmed his chest. Those poor idiots had no idea what they had gotten themselves into. He idly wondered if their bodies would ever turn up.

When the fools started talking again, he forced himself to pay a modicum of attention to them. He just needed to play along until the Chao Pho dealt with the photographs.

Except, the situation soon escalated far beyond his control.

Kongpob gritted his teeth as his hands shook, from anger or fear he wasn't too sure himself. The knife John's friend was digging into Aim's throat caused blood to drip slowly down the boy's neck, staining the collar of his shirt dark pink. Tew was pinned to the floor, John's other buddy kneeling on his back, twisting his arms at a painful angle behind him.

Their phones had been taken and smashed to pieces. In the dark of the alleyway they were all standing in, shadowed by the evening sky, they were very unlikely to get help from any passersby.

"What the fuck do you want, Ai'John?" Kongpob spat.

"I would suggest you think carefully about how you address me, Ai'Kong. I'm the one with the photos after all," said John with a smirk, shaking his own phone mockingly. He tapped his chin in mock consideration, "But you know what? I'm a nice guy."

He continued, "I just need you to do a very simple thing. You see that house there? All you have to do is egg it with these dozen eggs, one by one. But they must break open on the house itself; no dumping them on the lawn."

Kongpob narrowed his eyes. "And why would I do that?"

"I didn't take you to be a coward, Kongpob. Heard that you were such as hero standing up to your hazers, but you can't do this simple thing." John laughed.

"Well if you do it, I promise to delete all these photos and we'll never talk about this again. If you're too scared, I can always just post them on the campus page. I have a lovely draft already set up and just need to press the button."

"Your problem is with me, John," Kongpob snarled. "Leave my friends out of it."

Shrugging, John replied, "I am. All you have to do is do as I say, and they'll be out of it."

Aim spoke up, "No, Kong! Don't -". He cut himself off as the knife was pointedly pressed deeper into his neck.

Helplessly, Kongpob took in the horrible situation they were in. Even if Ting and Ram had left the moment they got the texts, it would still take them at least another half an hour to reach their school, traffic violations included. And then they'd still have to track them here.

There had to be more to what John wanted. Egging a house in exchange for deleting the blackmail? It certainly wasn't an equivalent exchange, so there had to be a catch in the request somewhere. But there was no choice to be made really.

If it were between Kongpob alone getting into trouble or dragging his friends down with him, he'd always choose to be the only one in the line of fire.

He just hoped that Tew had managed to activate the signal blocker before their phones had been destroyed - just in case John decided to go back on his word and post those pictures anyway.

"Fine!" sneered Kongpob. "Hand the eggs over."

With a smug smile, John shoved the carton of eggs into his hand and waved him out of the alleyway. And like a condemned man walking to the gallows, Kongpob dragged his feet to the house and stood outside the massive gate. He scanned the area subtly, before sighing. There were security cameras covering the entire front of the house - which meant that his actions would be captured on tape.

Which was the point, he supposed. This way, John and his friends were safe since they were not directly involved in Kongpob's actions, should there be an investigation. And Kongpob, Aim or Tew couldn't breath a word about it without revealing the type of blackmail material John had, which was what they were trying to avoid in the first place.

Which meant this was yet another loose end for Duen's people to take care of.

The saving grace of this whole situation was that at least he wasn't in uniform. Or anything else too easily identifiable. He ducked down beside the wall, out of the sightlines of the cameras. Pulling out his sunglasses and a handkerchief from his pocket, he slipped on the shades before tying the cloth to cover the lower half of his face to further obscure his features. Then tucking the carton of eggs securely under his armpit, he boosted himself over the iron-wrought gate.

Dropping onto the grass below in a crouch, he froze - waiting for any sign that the people inside had noticed his presence. When nothing happened, he let out a harsh breath in relief, and crept forward till he was at the halfway point - a close enough distance to throw properly, but far enough to make a quick getaway.

(Hopefully)

"Ok Kong, in and out… easy peasy… just do it and run… yeah, ok," he tried to psych himself up.

Taking an egg out of the carton, he weighed it in his hand for a second before drawing his arm back and launching it. With a wet smash, it exploded all over the door. Immediately, he picked up more eggs and kept pelting them one by one. They crashed into the walls, the pillars, and the porch.

2, 3, 4, 5

As Kong let the 6th egg fly at one of the windows, a figure appeared behind it right before the runny liquid coated the glass. A high scream rang out.

"Oh shit," Kongpob cursed under his breath.

He hastily attempted to finish his task.

7, 8, 9

The front door slammed open with a bang and a man in the Royal Thai Police uniform strode out.

"Stop right there boy!" he shouted, voice carrying clearly across the space.

Kongpob froze with his hand poised to throw the 10th egg. Fuckity fucking fuck. He dropped the egg and the carton, spinning on his heel to sprint away.

"If you take one step from there, I'll bring you straight to the station kid! Don't test me!"

Kongpob's shoulders slumped. He hesitantly turned back around to face the furious officer striding towards him. The man came to a halt an arm's length in front of him and glared.

"Take those things off your face," he ordered.

Kongpob briefly considered protesting, but common-sense won and he took off the sunglasses and handkerchief without argument. The man's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

"Aren't you Kerkkrai's son?"

Kongpob's blood ran cold. How did this man know him? He glanced between the name on the uniform and the man's face a few times before it clicked - the Commissioner! He'd briefly met the elder at a fundraiser while accompanying his father. The two adults had bonded over the fact that both their sons were both in engineering and lived in dorms, though the Commissioner's son was a third year.

And that meant that he was now doubly fucked.

"You don't seem to be the kind of kid who runs around egging people's houses," the Commissioner commented with a raised eyebrow, concern clear in his voice. "Are you in some sort of trouble?"

Think, think, think!

Kongpob flushed, "Erm, sorry Khun, I didn't know this was your house. I thought… I thought it was my faen's… well ex-faen's."

The man seemed stunned. "Oh?"

"I guess I'm at the wrong place," said Kongpob, rubbing his neck sheepishly. He crossed his fingers behind his back. Please let him believe it…

"What happened?" the Commission asked.

Fuck! What excuse could he give for being there?

Kongpob shifted his weight from side to side. "I… well, my faen is my head hazer. We've been keeping our relationship down low for his reputation's sake, but… there was a limit to how much I could take. And when I pushed the issue, he broke it off."

The man rested a consoling hand on Kongpob's shoulder. "He doesn't deserve you then. Do you want to share?"

Well he was already in this deep with his fictional relationship, it wouldn't hurt to embellish it with the truth.

Kongpob looked at his feet. "The hazing did get to me a bit. And it didn't help that I might have been pushing his buttons in return. So he was a bit of a… mean person. He had me stand on a table in the canteen and announce that I liked men, then ask 10 guys out. And at one point, ordered me to run 54 laps for talking back and also kinda flirting with him - though I didn't finish more than 7."

And now back to the lies.

"But it was him denying any closeness with me that was the limit. I guess he didn't plan on coming out anytime soon, and… I didn't want to be his dirty little secret forever."

He finally dared to glance at the man, trying to judge his reaction to the concocted sob story. A heavy frown decorated the Commissioner's face, though it didn't seem like he was angry at Kongpob.

"I think," the man finally spoke. "You might be at the right place after all."

Kongpob stared at him in confusion. What could he mean by that?

"Oon! Come out!"

Panicking, Kongpob shook his head frantically while trying to dislodge the hold the Commissioner had on his shoulder. "Khun, it's ok, you don't have to do this."

Who ‘Oon’ was and what at exactly 'this' was, Kongpob himself didn't have a clue, but he sure as hell wasn't planning on sticking around to find out.

The Commissioner merely tightened his grip, forcing Kongpob to stay in place. "OON!"

A boy dressed in an oversized T-shirt and basketball shorts, with a bird's nest for hair, stumbled out of the door. He took in the pungent smell of raw eggs, puddles of it dripping down the house, and finally the teenager firmly held in the grasp of his father.

"0062?" he gaped.

Kongpob's face visibly drained of all colour. "P'Arthit?" he whispered faintly, his entire life flashing before his eyes.

The harsh voice of his head hazer dragged him back to the present. "Did you do this?"

"Oon, come here!" the Commissioner snapped.

Arthit came to a stop in front of the two and wai-ed. "Por, I'm so sorry about this junior, I'll take care of this -"

"Did you make him stand on a table in the canteen and announce that he liked men, then ask 10 guys out?"

Arthit drew back, stunned. "What? What has he been telling -"

"I asked you a question, Oon."

Nodding stiffly, Arthit answered, "Yes Por."

"He's the one you ordered to run 54 laps."

"Yes Por."

"DOWN 50!" the Commissioner roared, causing Kongpob to almost jump out of his skin in shock.

Arthit scrambled into push-up position and began the punishment, counting the reps loudly.

"1! 2! 3! 4!"

"How dare you force your junior to say such things?! Do you know how dangerous that was?!" the man yelled over his son. “Did you think it funny?! I didn't raise a homophobic brat!"

"12! 13! I'm sorry Por! 14! 15!"

"What are you even sorry for?! Were you trying to humiliate him?! How do you think N'Toota would've felt - watching you mock his sexuality as if it was something to be ashamed of!"

"24! 25! 26!"

Kongpob stood as still as a statue as the Commissioner continued giving the head hazer a vicious tongue-lashing, the heavy weight of guilt lying in his stomach like a rock. He hadn't meant to get P'Arthit into trouble, deserved as it may be. His head began to pound, and he stifled a groan.

This whole day had been nothing but one mess after another.

"Get up!" the officer ordered harshly.

Arthit scrambled back up, his posture a perfect imitation of that of a military recruit.

"I expect you to make up with your faen, and once you're done, for both of you to come to dinner."

Arthit's jaw dropped. "Faen?"

His father gave him a sharp glare. "N'Kong has already told me everything. Don't try to fool me."

"But Por-"

"Enough Oon! I had expected better of you."

Arthit hung his head.

Kongpob winced as the man's glare shifted to him. "And you. Don't think that I've forgotten about what you've done here. Both you and Oon are going to clean up this mess."

Wai-ing, Kongpob replied remorsefully. "Yes Khun. I apologise for my actions. I know I was wrong and have inconvenienced you terribly. I wasn't thinking clearly, but it won't ever happen again."

"See that it doesn't. This is no way to resolve spats." The Commissioner's expression softened and he squeezed Kongpob's shoulder gently. "You will always be welcome here. Does Kerkkrai know?"

Kongpob shook his head. "No... we hadn't exactly talked about telling our families." 'Because there wasn't anything to tell,' he continued wryly in his head.

"Then we'll keep this between us for now," said the man, releasing his hold. "Make sure there's nothing left of this mess before you both come for dinner," he warned, before making his way inside the house.

When the door securely shut behind his father, Arthit turned to Kongpob, eyes boring holes into the other’s skull.

"What. Did. You. Do." he growled.

Kongpob began to slowly back away, arms lifted in surrender. "P'Arthit, I can explain!"

"KONGPOB!"

#chaptersinprogress #sotus #sotus the series #arthit x kongpob #kongarthit #kongart #kongpob x arthit #fanfic #fanfiction #romeo this ain't a tragedy it's a goddamn romance #baby we're meant to be #is this an au of demolition lovers? yes #also did anyone catch the fma ref?#and the fob one?

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axemetaphor · 5 years

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hedgehogs, hedgehogs, hedgehogs... IVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO DRAW HEDGEHOGS!

#these are Awful but DL AU is on my mind again....#what can i say im a gay punk who loves morally ambiguous characterizations #dl au #demolition lovers au #sonic au #scourge the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #scourgadow #yes this is. where i got my url hello to my recent followers: i am garbage and here is proof

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megumitski · 3 years

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hello these are the bnha fics i’ve read so far and i just made this to track them for myself. favorites are marked with a 💥! more bakudeku plus tododeku and other ships under the cut.

bakudeku

💥 Bluebird - EtherealBeing (53k)

Dialing a wrong number was no unusual occurrence. Everyone did it once in a while, and Katsuki was well aware of that fact.

However, possessing this knowledge made it no less aggravating for him to discover — a full two minutes into his rant about his day — that he’d been venting his frustrations to a complete stranger. As if that wasn't enough, said stranger was also inexplicably determined to hear his story to its end.

Let’s Be Alone Together - lalazee (3k)

Prompt: Deku being aggressively forward in his pursuit of Bakugou, and how that big oaf would react to someone else actually making the first move.

“Are you going to spend your entire life wishing you’d kissed me or are you gonna grow some balls and fucking do it?”

Bell Pepper - ticklishivories (7k)

Midoriya knew they wouldn’t talk about it. He was right. But he never thought it’d happen again.

spilling over every side - failbender (6k)

No good deed goes unpunished, not when there's a crazy lady with a complex and Lust Quirk parading around the city. By now, Katsuki should probably be used to things blowing up in his face.

be loved - bonnia (5k)

They sit there, in the darkness of the common room, about a few centimeters between them, but miles apart. Somehow, the quiet is companionable. More than it has been in many years. Katsuki knows he’s responsible for the rift between them, and he knows even more that it can’t only be Deku who attempts to mend it.

“Hey,” he says, after a while, and Deku turns to him in question, but Katsuki refuses to look his way. “Touch me again.”

(or: the kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands)

Leftovers - brichibi (6k)

“Did you two make up?”

That. That’s why that fight felt like it was worth it, even if, technically, Izuku can’t answer her. Have they made up? Is this making up?

He actually doesn’t know.

[Or: the house arrest fic where it is, somehow, more awkward to talk through feelings than it is to fight]

lust-drunk - theboykingofhell (8k)

The one where Bakugou tries not to lose his mind to lust, and Midoriya is the useless gay who does nothing to help that matter at all.

💥 Quiet Rapture - lalazee (261k) - inc.

That A/B/O fic where cocky Alpha Bakugou falls in mate-love at first scent, while Midoriya is just a poor bookstore-owning Omega who got his nose punched in is a kid and can't smell a damn thing. Also known as: That time an Alpha had to use his actual personality to woo his mate instead of relying on his scent.

💥 A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF - kewltie (8k)

Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

What The Fuck Did You Just Call Me? - reading_raindrop (8k)

“A-ah B-Bakugou! You dropped some pencils!”

Katsuki stiffened. Kirishima and Kaminari froze. Basically, everyone within earshot stopped what they were doing to look at Izuku like he sprouted a second head. What did he just call him? “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Katsuki whipped his head towards Izuku with his signature death glare as he stood up from where he picked up the fallen supplies.

“U-um I said you dropped some pencils! I think this eraser might be yours to-”

“No. What the fuck did you just call me?”

Izuku starts calling him Bakugou and it pisses the explosive teen off a lot more than he thought it would

💥 take care - Chrome (2k)

There are words to say stay safe, I’ll miss you, I love you, but Kacchan has always preferred to leave things unspoken. Izuku isn’t much with languages, but he thinks he’s figured out this one.

---

“Emotional constipation manifested as over-the-top housewifery?” Mina asks. Before Izuku can say that is not what he meant at all, she nods. “Yeah, I can see it.”

Just Look At Me - Colourcubify (52k) - dnf

Midoriya is completely happy with his life. Nope, not one single regret in his twenty-seven years. He especially doesn't regret running into his old childhood friend/bully after almost ten years, nor does he regret spilling coffee all over his very expensive looking suit. How nice it will be to die with no regrets. ~~~~ AKA the sugar daddy AU I meant to be a one shot, that turned into a full fledged story.

A Nest for the Best - Camellia_Sinensis (1k)

Deku’s been nesting and asking everyone in 1-A for pieces of clothing for his horde. Everyone, that is, except Katsuki. Cue the jealousy.

unforgiving - i_write_emotion (19k)

Deku is hit with a quirk that takes away his ability to forgive, and Bakugou’s world comes crashing down. Quirkless!Deku. Pro-hero!Bakugou.

@ Deku WRONG CHAT - katyastark (16k) - inc.

Deku: THE LENGTHS I WOULD GO TO JUST LICK THE SWEAT OFF HIS ABS hnnnnnghhh

Deku: or! like! It doesn’t even have to be his abs! It could be anywhere else! I’m not picky!

Pinky: excuse me what

ChargeDolt: OMG

Uravity: @Deku WRONG CHAT

I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married. - InkspillsNotebook (6k)

Ta-Da!!!! I hope you all enjoy the finished product!!! I'm sorry (not sorry) I broke a lot of you when I first posted this to tumblr!!

Procrastination - capncapk (5k)

But it is still surprising to see his more-than-friend-but-also-lover-he-guesses in his office seeking attention though Izuku already turned him down.

Usually he'll get a text of 'wyd?' followed by a time and place if Izuku responds with a confirmation, and silence if he's busy.

Or slammed into the wall in the agency's shower for a quickie if no one was around, which despite his anxiety, he often acquiesces to.

While You Were Sleeping - Belkacaramelka (71k)

The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Quirkless AU based on the film; endgame BakuDeku. -- Katsuki didn’t know when the change had happened: how he had gone from asking why Todoroki chose Deku of all people, to wondering why it was Todoroki that Deku chose. Troublesome Deku, who cooed like an idiot at cats, tripped at a random catcall and sang badly. Who, despite everything, proved that it wasn’t the quirk that defined a person. Deku, who was too much, not his, and undeniably off limits to begin with.

briar roses (and hundred years of sleep) - vannral (16k)

In complete honesty, no one who knows the Class 3-A should be surprised anymore. Izuku is asleep.

In which Izuku is hit by a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ Quirk, Class 3-A tries to find his True Love and get them to kiss him, and Katsuki’s very angry about it all.

Yes, They’re All Safe - teaandtumblr (5k)

Villains have entered UA grounds and are disposed of just as quickly, but that doesn't mean a headcount of the students doesn't need to be done. Toshinori would admit, he wasn't quite prepared for what he found in Bakugou Katsuki's room.

💥 all choked up - spicyrabbit (5k)

Bakugou Katsuki had a habit of turning away from the heard. At 16, he does this by coming to terms with wanting, desperately, to see his childhood friend cry.

💥 May I take your order, dipshit? - supercrunch (6k)

So, like, maybe Bakugou wasn’t really the best choice for this whole pizza delivery shindig.

(Midoriya in love, Bakugou in denial, and way, way too much cheese.

A BakuDeku romance in thirty minutes or less. )

blooms every hour - dynamighttiddy (7k)

“It’s you, okay?!” Deku screams. “It’s you. And I know you’ll never love me back, so -” Deku wipes his eyes and straightens. “So just leave it.”

-----

Deku has hanahaki, and Katsuki doesn't know how to save him.

all choked up - dynamighttiddy (7k)

“Deku, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Izuku asks Kacchan to help him train blackwhip. Things don't exactly go according to plan.

A Fight To The Death - iknewaman (10k)

Izuku isn’t competitive by nature, but when the blond, cocky asshole from the other table’s team gets involved he suddenly becomes hellbent on winning.

Rival Pub Quiz AU

💥 Like the Moon - osakakitty (15k)

Katsuki Bakugo is having constant, erotic dreams about Izuku Midoriya. He isn’t sure why, but they won’t go away. In order to make them stop, he needs to figure out what Izuku Midoriya means to him.

Canon-verse story in which Bakugo is confused about his feelings for Midoriya, and doesn’t know what he wants. Besides a good night’s sleep.

💥 We Wear Chains on the Weekend - surveycorpsjean (35k)

Well, in a day of revelations, it turns out that Izuku isn't as vanilla as Katsuki previously thought. Unfortunately, that fascinating discovery is overshadowed by Izuku's dumbassery, because he has zero concept of aftercare.

"Don't go to anyone else," Katsuki says, because screw it. He can do a better job anyways.

Or; Katsuki finds Izuku on a bad drop.

take me out to dinner first - dynamighttiddy (3k)

“Kacchan,” Deku chides. “What’s going on?”

Katsuki takes a deep breath.

He trusts Deku with his life. He can trust him with this, too.

“Have sex with me.”

-----

Katsuki Bakugou is one of the only virgins left in class 3-A - and with graduation just around the corner, he's desperate to change that.

💥 that ultra kind of love - dynamighttiddy (11k)

“So, uh,” Kirishima starts. “Was that your first kiss?” he whispers, almost sheepish. Katsuki’s stomach drops, and he freezes. Memories of green eyes and freckles and soft lips flash behind his eyelids. “Yeah,” he lies easily. “That was my first kiss.”

-----

In which Bakugou pretends Kirishima is his first kiss, amongst other things.

to the moon and back - kewltie (1k)

"He gets stupid when he's drunk," Katsuki seethes in his seat as he watches Izuku croon love notes into Uraraka's throat. He’d never met a worst lightweight then Deku, who become some kind of demented affectionate monster.

💥 Bridges - supercrunch (18k)

Yaomomo sighs. “We’ve got a little bit of a situation, Bakugou. Ashi—uhm, somebody might have accidentally signed you up for that modelling gig.”

Katsuki holds up a hand. "So what you’re telling me here," he says, "is that you told Calvin Klein I would model for them. In my underwear.”

Ashido sinks behind a desk to hide. “Yes.”

(The thing is, they really do need the money. And Katsuki's technically the leader of this bunch of morons, so he finds himself taking the job even though his pride will never recover. And even though nobody thought to tell him that he'd be working with his ex-boyfriend. You know, the cute freckled guy from high school who went and broke his heart.

So, yeah. This whole situation kind of sucks.)

Crescendo - supercrunch - inc. (4k)

(Izuku's band is on their way to the top of the charts. But the real star, he thinks, is the drummer.)

Guilty Kiss - osakakitty (1k)

He could feel Midoriya's eyes on him. Even though he knew it was wrong, Bakugo still wet his lips in anticipation.

(Canon-verse) A short story about making out in a closet. It's messy, but so is their relationship.

💥 Surfaces - surveycorpsjean (25k)

Katsuki has a new girlfriend, but something isn't right.

As impossible as it is, Izuku can't help but wonder what it'd be like to be called Katsuki's girl.

Classical conditioning - supercrunch (8k)

(or: how to trick a boy into going out with you.)

Alright. Maybe his idiot friends had a point, Katsuki thinks as he shoulders open the front door. His mother’s in the living room drinking coffee. Katsuki kicks off his shoes and stomps over. “Am I charming?” he demands, blocking the TV.

Mitsuki pats his cheek. “Oh, hon. Not at all.”

💥 Dance Bunny - EllaBesmirched (17k)

Katsuki Bakugou spends most week nights by himself, sitting in a corner at his local strip club and passing time until he feels tired enough to sleep. Work leaves him stressed and the new city he moved to a year ago is just different enough that he can't sleep at night and can't seem to get comfortable no matter where he is.

When he finally changes up his schedule and decides to head to the club on a Saturday night, he is instantly infatuated with a part-time dancer who can do things with his body that Katsuki didn't even know were possible. The dancer calls himself Bunny. By the second lap dance, Katsuki realizes he is in trouble.

but the entrails are the best part! - supercrunch (15k)

The boy straightens up. He’s about half a head shorter than Katsuki, face soft and youthful and sweet. He turns to look at him properly. His dark hair shines in the dying light, basket of blooms looped over one arm and mouth quirked into a tiny half-smile. The sun hits his face and makes his eyes a bright greeny-gold, just like emeralds.

Katsuki likes emeralds.

“Pretty,” he says, reaching out and picking the stranger up around the middle. He’s surprisingly heavy, although Katsuki doesn’t mind. “I like you. Come see my nest.”

The boy hits him.

He’s stronger than he looks, turns out. Katsuki drops him and falls onto his back, pain blooming across his face. Birds sing. The sky’s a lovely shade of orange, clouds floating lazily by. The boy scarpers. He leaves his basket of flowers behind, footsteps thumping on the ground and fading away as he escapes.

The sun sets. Katsuki, lying flat on his back with a bloody nose, decides he’s just fallen in love.

tododeku

(You Know You’re Really) Cute - ladyhoneydarlinglove (2k)

Kirishima poses the question, who’s the cutest boy in Class 1-A? The answers kind of surprise everyone, especially Midoriya.

Everything Except - Pouler (28k)

"In retrospect, Midoriya probably should’ve realized the moment they were enveloped in a glittering pink cloud that something was about to go Very Wrong."

After an encounter with a unique villain threatens to change the nature of their partnership, Midoriya must find a way to get things back to normal between him and Todoroki. That is, if he's certain that getting 'back to normal' is what he really wants...

count your blessings, not your flaws - PitViperOfDoom (7k)

Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

Riddles in the Heart - PitViperOfDoom (19k)

The law is clear: whoever correctly answers three riddles will marry the prince, while all who fail are to be executed. The people live in fear as more challengers try and fail, and the throne grows bloodier with every passing year. But a young prince, nameless and in exile from his home, believes there may be more to this brutal challenge than meets the eye.

Of course, there's only one way to find out: ring the gong, and take the trial.

Late bloomer - Nohaljiachi (10k)

That’s why when they’ve found themselves face to face on the ring of the sport festival once more, for the third time ever since they’ve met each other, and Izuku smiled at him, eager and challenging, self-confident but never full of himself, Shouto blinked, dazed and shocked, in realizing just how blindingly beautiful his best friend was. The way Izuku’s white shirt clung on his muscles, the little peek of his collar bone and the hard lines of his pecs visible under it, the way his thighs curved and filled the school gym uniform.

‘Oh, fuck—‘ Shouto thought, his head spinning, feeling like he just got run over by a freight train. ‘Shit. He’s- hot?’

Burn and Breathe - PitViperOfDoom (11k)

Soulmates are connected through pain, and some bonds have more to share than others. Todoroki Shouto wishes he could reject his soulmate. Midoriya wants nothing more than to protect his own.

one string, fit for a bow - furihatachlookie (5k)

There was no magical moment that played a part in Midoriya's realization that he liked Todoroki. The thin red string that greeted him every time he looked down at his hand was an obvious factor, yes, but it wasn't love at first sight either.

It sorta just... happened over time.

fire and feelings - kagshina (8k)

“Uh…” he starts, eyes widening. “Your finger’s on fire.”

Todoroki’s face scrunches together, confused, and then he looks down, noticing the flame. Midoriya watches as shock flashes across Todoroki’s face, and then horror, and then finally settles on embarrassment as he puts out the flame.

“Shit,” Todoroki mumbles, and Midoriya’s lip curves upward.

bakutododeku

💥 Fire in the Mountains - EllaBesmirched (168k)

“I’ll do it.”

Enji froze, fingers curling into a fist at his side, and didn’t turn around.

Shouto froze too, feeling his own eyes widen in shock at the words that had come out of his mouth, at the fact that he had actually stood up, followed his father out of the room, and dashed after him all just to say… he’d do it? He would do it? Him. Shouto Todoroki. He would--

Enji finally turned around and fixed Shouto with an expression so scathing, Shouto had to fight to keep his chin raised. “You’ll marry the Barbarian King.”

Shouto blinked. “Yes.”

The Ballad of Love and Hate - EllaBesmirched (6k)

After eight painfully long years, Katsuki finally has Izuku back. He's determined to keep him this time, and to do that, he knows there are some things he has to say.

(mis)matched - ethydium (12k)

Midoriya doesn't hate the idea of finding one's soulmate, even though he had long since given up on finding his own. And then Bakugou and Todoroki match, and while he's happy for them, his heart breaks from all the unsaid things he feels for them.

Or:

Midoriya pines and suffers his way to his own happy ending.

pillowed by love - ethydium (21k)

As a prank, Uraraka gets Midoriya a body pillow (dakimakura) with the image of Bakugou printed on it. Then another one with Todoroki's picture. Chaos ensues.

other

For who could learn to love a beast? - supercrunch (4k) - bakutodo

Bakugou takes a deep breath and steps out into the living room, eyes automatically adjusting to the change in light. There’s a boy hanging up his coat in the hall. He’s handsome, albeit in an annoying way, hair dyed two colours to match his heterochromia and skin pale and perfect and smooth. He looks expensive. “Bakugou.”

“That’s me,” Bakugou says. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“I’m older than I look.”

(Deku was right, damn him. Pretty boys are Bakugou's type.)

Want it All - surveycorpsjean (29k) - kiribakutododeku

“Hey, so..." Eijirou grins. "Can we ask you guys a question?"

Frankendick and the Great Acid Fiasco - EllaBesmirched (11k) - shiggyxdabi

Dabi had been intending to spend a very nice Saturday getting stoned and plotting murder, thank you very much, but when a trio of UA brats on enough L to kill a Beatle accidentally dose him and two other unsuspecting homicidal maniacs, Dabi has to change his plans a bit. Apparently no else around here knows how to trip balls and fucking enjoy it.

The Twitter - EllaBesmirched (8k) - tododenki

Shouto never really intended for anyone to find his secret Twitter account. He certainly didn't intend for Kaminari to see Shouto's thirst tweets about him. Luckily, Kaminari doesn't seem to mind.

pray you catch me - supercrunch (4k)

Katsuki pushes her shirt up to kiss her stomach. It’s silly, how it makes her heart flutter, how Izuku’s whispered I love you threatens to make her cry all over again. They’re unwrapping her from her clothes. They won’t let her hide, she thinks numbly. Won’t let her curl in on herself like she’s something dirty, Katsuki’s hands tugging off her underwear so she’s naked and exposed between them. “I,” she says breathlessly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying. I’m just being dumb.”

Izuku shushes her. Another tear trickles down her cheek and into her ear. He kisses it away, humming, brushing her bangs off her forehead so he can press his mouth between her brows. “You have every right to be upset. We’ll deal with him later. For now just let us take care of you.”

“She’ll get the message once you stop talking and fuck her,” Katsuki says, slipping his fingers into her. She clenches around him and shudders. “Gonna eat you out ‘til you forget how to move. Now put that fucking motor mouth to good use, Deku.”

#bnha #fic rec #mha #my hero academia #bakudeku #tododeku #bakutododeku #i do want to start reading kiribaku drop some recs pls #im just in a bakudeku hole #im not complaining i like it here #bnha fic rec #mha fic rec

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realcube · 3 years

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my (christmas) gift to you based off of your favourite haikyuu!! character 🎁

ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᵇᶦᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵘⁿ ˡᵒˡ ᵖˡᶻ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶦᵗ ᵗᵒᵒ ˢᵉʳᶦᵒᵘˢˡʸ 💕

if you don’t celebrate christmas then consider it a gift for being a great person! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tw// mentions of depression, suicide, swearing, contraception, drugs

KARASUNO ❄

coach ukai ➸ a cure for daddy issues and horny 😔

ittetsu takeda ➸ some respect 👍

daichi sawamura ➸ a supportive parent/friend 😳 or maybe a mug with ‘world’s best _____’ on it

(fanon) kōshi sugawara ➸ some fkn confidence plz you deserve it

(canon) kōshi sugawara ➸ idk what i’d get you but i’d get your friend group a new therapist friend- you seriously need a break ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)

asahi azumane ➸ a plushie of any sorts

kiyoko shimizu ➸ a girlfriend :)

ryūnosuke tanaka ➸ money.

saeko tanaka ➸ money. but more..

yū nishinoya ➸ i would do your hw for 2 weeks and HAIR DYE

chikara ennoshita ➸ anti-depressants- IDFERGB JK uh i’d get you like a snowglobe unless you wanted to take me up on the first offer

nartita/kinoshita ➸ a world where they get more screen time and are included in official art ヽ(*。>Д<)o゜

kei tsukishima ➸ i can’t tell if you have amazing taste or awful taste but either way i’m giving you some human affection plz take it, you need it

tadashi yamaguchi ➸ a hug 🥺 and if you don’t want a hug then a blanket

tobio kageyama ➸ therapy

shōyō hinata ➸ the whole fkn world 😭 and if not, then stilts bc i ain’t ever seen a tall hinata stan ✨

hitoka yachi ➸ idk if i can get you passes on all your tests but i’ll try- and if i can’t, i’ll make you a study playlist 💞

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ❄ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

NEKOMA 🐈

(fanon; smart) tetsurō kuroo ➸ a hot nerdy s/o lmao

(fanon; sexualised) tetsurō kuroo ➸ your reproductive organs removed- plz don’t procreate ✋ JK JK uM but deadass contraception

(canon) tetsurō kuroo ➸ i’ll sacrifice something to you 🙏🛐 god bless

morisuke yaku ➸ a break from work/school/life- more escapism basically

lev haiba ➸ friends who don’t pick on you 💓

kenma kuzome ➸ a way to make people respect your preferred pronouns/name 😤 or maybe an amiibo card

taketora yamamoto ➸ money to spend on someone’s onlyfans smh

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ❄ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

AOBA JOHSAI HIGH 👑

tōru oikawa ➸ the ability to do things without constantly comparing yourself to other people/your past-self. . . or just anything with oikawa’s face on it

hajime iwaizumi ➸ an oikawa plushie to beat up

issei matsukawa ➸ like ik the only thing you want is for him to rail you but i can’t make that happen so perhaps an amazon giftcard instead?

takahiro hanamaki ➸ weed

kentarō kyōtani ➸ you are probably the softest mf with the biggest degradation kink so like.. idk i’d spit on you or sumn

akira kunimi ➸ a neck pillow so you can sleep on the go

shigeru yahaba ➸ AEWIUHFEBF IS THIS YOUR MAN?!?! OH I AM DECEASED 💀💀- anyway i’d get you a pair of working fkn eye 💞

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ❄ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

SHIRATORIZAWA 🦅

wakatoshi ushijima ➸ if you are a ushi gushy stan then my gift to you is my thoughts and prayers but if you are a ushiwaka lover then you get a firm hand shake (yes, they are two different ppl)

eita semi ➸ i’d listen to and follow your playlists (and maybe get you your favourite artist on vinyl or sumn like that)

satori tendō ➸ lots of alcohol and whether you choose to drink it or commit arson it completely up to you

reon ōhira ➸ the demolition of capitalism

tsutomu goshiki ➸ a card

kenjirō shirabu ➸ standards

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ❄ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

OTHER 🎄

kōtarō bokuto ➸ love or maybe dick idrk

keiji akaashi ➸ more coffee shop aus

atsumu miya ➸ your favourite character is atsumu miya? pfft i’d get you a microphone so you can preform your stand-up comedy elsewhere (￣、￣) ik it’s sangwoo-

osamu miya ➸ a lovely s/o that’ll cook for you

yūji terushima ➸ idk if you want to be him or be with him but either way i think you need hair dye (and maybe a matching tongue piercing)

rintaro suna ➸ a follow to your meme account

shinsuke kita ➸ i would get you shinsuke kita

takanobu aone ➸ a long happy life (◡‿◡) you deserve it

kanji koganegawa ➸ idk why but koganegawa gives me kaminari vibes so like..dinsey plus lol

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haiku #hq headcanons #hq daichi #nekoma #karasuno #aoba jōsai #aobai josahi #shiratorizawa #haikyuu atsumu #miya osumu #kita shinsuke #suna rintarou #haikyuu satori #oikawa torū #oikawa tooru

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victorluvsalice · 3 years

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Opening Line Tag Game!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Tagged by: @dont-offend-the-bees (thanks Newt!)

Welp, here we go, last 20 stories as listed on AO3, from the first chapter of each -- I suspect I already know one pattern, but we’ll see if it holds up:

1. In A World Of His Own -- "Come on, Alice, keep up!"

2. Secundus 2: Weird Weird West -- "Victor! Mail's here!"

3. Scenes From Secundus -- When Victor had been five, he’d asked his governess, Miss Horrocks, what exactly a family was.

4. A Wedding, A Wedding, We're Going To Have A Wedding -- "I am not getting married in that."

5. Imagine Me and You -- Alice jolted awake, breathing hard.

6. To Sum Up. . . -- Houndsditch was the last place either Victor or Alice had ever expected to find the love of their lives – and yet, here they were.

7. Fixing You -- Ahhh. . .so this is what peace feels like.

8. The Technicolor Phase -- "Eddie?"

9. Secundus -- It is a world that is both rather like and unlike our own, dear reader.

10. Scenes From A Multiverse Christmas Carol -- “Now, in this season of giving, it has been decided that – um – that we should. . . .”

11. A Dream Journey -- He was flying.

12. At The Beginning -- “He won’t have to share a room with any of these children, will he?”

13. Mallow Hallow Snippets -- "Hey. Hey you. Up and at 'em."

14. Welcome To Rapture (Twice, In Fact) -- Moving while feeling like you’re standing perfectly still should not be a familiar sensation.

15. Demolition Lovers -- He never thought it would end like this.

16. Nightmares And A Sweet Dream -- “. . .And wake.”

17. Rabbit Hunt -- Their first Christmas together.

18. Remembering You -- ". . .dear God. . . ."

19. In The Land of the Dead -- Well. At least the house isn't on fire anymore.

20. a) Losing You -- Gradually, the last of the butterflies that had once been the corpse bride vanished from view, swallowed up by the velvet night sky.

b) Triskaidekaphobia -- "They've been in there an awful long time. . . ."

Okay, the reason I did two for #20 is because I was as surprised as anybody to see Losing You listed after In The Land of the Dead. I must have EDITED it at some point in 2016 and forgotten. . .so yeah, I did the one that’s next in the list on AO3, which is Losing You, and the one that I feel SHOULD be next, which is Triskaidekaphobia.

As for patterns, yes, I think you can spot a reasonably obvious one -- I do like to start a lot of my stories with a line of dialogue or a character thought. Coming in mid-conversation or mid-observation really helps jump-start a chapter for me. I don’t do it all the time, though, as you can see -- and I think it has something to do with the type of story and the length. If I’m doing a short prompt fic, I’m a little more likely to start with an ordinary establishing sentence. Losing You is an exception, but there I was literally describing what happened right after the end of Corpse Bride, so. . . But yeah, I was expecting a lot more dialogue openers, to be honest. I guess it’s not as often as I thought! (Though I bet you if I looked at individual CHAPTERS in a bunch of these stories, it would become a lot more obvious.)

Tagging: I don’t think I’m even following ten people, so I’m just leaving it open -- though @nebbychan, @gaydragonwizards, if you want to give it a shot with your stuff, feel free!

(Oh, BTW, for anyone wondering what the hell items #13 through #17 are going on about -- they’re all part of the Forgotten Vows AUs series I have on AO3, collecting some fic I wrote while RPing as the Forgotten Vows Victor (here on tumblr and on Dreamwidth), most of it before even getting the whole Verse completed in my head. Rabbit Hunt is an alternate take on how Victor gets Alice’s toy rabbit back; Nightmares And A Sweet Dream some dreams I wrote up for my Victor back when he was still struggling from what happened with Bumby (includes an early version of the whole thing with Thirteen!); Demolition Lovers is the Bad End AU and I don’t like it; Welcome To Rapture (Twice In Fact) is two versions of a “Victor gets accidentally transported to Rapture” ficlet I wrote to “audition” for a Dreamwidth game (I didn’t get in); and Mallow Hallow Snippets are stories I wrote from Victor’s time in a game I did get in (and ran for a short couple of months), Mallow Hallow. They’re hardly required reading, but if you like early takes on some of the Forgotten Vows stuff, or just general weird shit, you can read ‘em.)

#dontoffendthebees #writing stuff #tag game #opening line tag game #fanfic #yeah I was going write along #thinking 'okay yeah this all looks ri-'#'wait what why is LOSING YOU here'#I genuinely don't recall why that one would have finished in 2016 #I MUST have made some small change that threw off its placement in the flat list #but I actually did want to show off its first line soo #congrats you get 21 first lines #and yeah trust me we look at individual chapters?#lots of dialogue openers #I probably use it as a bit of a crutch #but it's an easy way to get me into the middle of a scene #there's two versions of the 'Into Rapture' story #because I found the original draft of my writing sample and edited it #and then found the draft I ACTUALLY SUBMITTED in a different place #and decided 'fuck it I'm not wasting the time I edited there'#and to be honest 'Nightmares And A Sweet Dream' could be considered semi-canon instead of full AU #the first and last dream are definitely ones Victor could have had in the main timeline #just not the early appearance of Thirteen since he's surprised by him later #'Demolition Lovers' though #that was a prompt fic and now I look at it and it just makes me sad #queued

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perahn · 4 years

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Common For the Heartsick

So I was clearing out some old folders this evening and came across the start of this, and decided to just throw an ending on it. Modern!AU.

--------------------------------

“Ursula or Maleficent?” Harper held up the two bottles of nail polish, one purple with black sparkles and the other black with green and purple glitter.

“Huh?”

That wasn’t like Katy, no matter how focused she was on the movie. The colour of her toenails was serious business. “Katy, what’s up?” he asked.

She wasn’t even watching the screen as the music swelled and the two leads gazed longingly at each other – and usually by that point in the movie she had both a smile and the sniffles. Instead she was staring out the window with an expression similar to the one the actors were wearing, only with a large portion of misery in it.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Harper said, and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just so sad,” Katy said softly.

“What is? I know you’re not talking about the movie. They haven’t even had the second-act break-up yet.”

Katy turned away from the window and buried her face in his chest. The muffled sounds might’ve been an answer, if he could’ve understood it. Not for the first time in their friendship, he wondered if hooking up with Ash behind the bleachers had really been worth skipping the day they’d covered ‘Common for Heartsick Half-Elves With a Mouthful of Jacket’. “You know it’s a bit easier to communicate when I can hear you, right?”

Katy popped up her head long enough to say, “Look at her!” before she folded herself back in with something that was at least halfway towards being a sob.

Harper looked. The window had a fairly good view across the street to the Haunted House. There wasn’t any ghost story attached to it as far as Harper had ever heard; Katy just called it that because nobody stayed there very long. Obviously that was due to ghosts and not to the fact that it was in desperate need of demolition. Harper had fifty bucks on the most recent victims staying less than a month; Bren thought they’d make two, but not much longer; Katy had refused to bet.

Katy had probably been watching the current residents, since they were in the front yard. Harper had never met them, but he knew people who knew people who had spoken to them. The small half-orc – Shaizy or something like it – was attempting to wrestle some of the taller weeds into submission, while the bald one – her name sounded like someone making a Ghostbusters reference while gargling – sat on the sagging doorstep frowning over a book. An enormous Great Dane gambolled around them both, wagging its black tail and occasionally entreating one or the other to throw a ball for it to ignore.

They looked content enough, even if one was waging an unwinnable war against well-entrenched and razor-sharp grasses; he must be missing something. “She needs a flamethrower instead of secateurs?” Harper guessed. “She got a grass cut?”

“Not her,” Katy said, and that was a first. Harper didn’t know much, but he was a fucking expert in pining from a distance, and besides Katy had been commenting on the half-orc’s arms basically every minute they were visible. “Cam.”

Harper’s impression of the bald woman had included words like ‘hot’, ‘tattoos’, and ‘always reading’; he wasn’t sure where ‘sad’ came from. Also, he was pretty sure her name wasn’t Cam. “Why is it sad, darling?”

“Because just look, Harper! She’s bald and skinny, she has cancer, and she’s here with someone who is probably her girlfriend in the last months she has to live-“

“Katy.”

“- and they must be poor after spending all their money on cancer treatment because they rented the Haunted House –“

“Katy.”

“- and she only ever wears that horrible burlap sack-“

“Katy!” and finally he got through. “Where did any of that come from?”

She sniffled, wiping her chin with his shirt and leaving mascara smears behind. “I’m not blind, Harper.”

“No,” he said, grabbing the box of tissues he’d had ready for the second-act break-up, “you are beautiful and smart and the delight of my life, but don’t you think that, maybe, you might be jumping to conclusions a little fast?”

She looked up at him with those ridiculously wide eyes, and fuck, her lower lip was wobbling. It was more than a man could be expected to endure.

“Come on,” Harper said, dragging her up from the sofa, “We are going over there and we are settling this.”

“Harperrr-“

“No arguments. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

She didn’t argue, but he did have to drag her by the hand across the road. The dog barked a welcome and rushed up to them, and the girl with the shears said ‘Hi,” and he said “Hi,” back because he wasn’t a barbarian, and the bald woman looked up from her book. Sure, she was on the skinny side, but she didn’t look sick and she still had her eyebrows and eyelashes, so he was probably right, and he was just going to sound stupid and a bit crazy. He was used to that.

“Hi,” Harper said. “Bad question to open with, I know, but the bald head – that’s a fashion statement, right?”

She stared back at him, wary and not quite hostile. “Cultural. Why?”

“See?” He tossed over his shoulder at Katy, who wasn’t listening to him anyway, just staring at her crush. Who had put down the secateurs and was coming up to her, the big dog gambolling madly around them both.

“That’s not an answer,” not-a-cancer-patient said.

“It was just – just an argument with Katy. I’m Harper, by the way.”

“Khemuret,” she said, a little begrudgingly. “Khem.”

“Pretty name. Katy and I live across the road, feel free to come borrow a cup of sugar if you need one. We probably won’t have any, but the company is always nice. Can I ask another really nosy question?”

Katy had dropped his hand in order to scratch the dog’s ears, and honestly Harper just wanted to cheer – in a non-creepy, just looking out for his girl kind of way - because Shaizy was very carefully not looking at Katy, and they were fumbling their way through an introduction.

“You can ask.”

“Well,” Harper said, and sat down next to Khem on the doorstep. She made a face like an offended cat and shifted a few inches away. A miscalculation there. “Sorry, didn’t mean to crowd you. It’s just- see that?” He pointed to where Katy and her half-orc had obviously found themselves into an awkward and tentative little world of their own.

“They are right there,” Khem said, with the slow emphasis of someone who had completely missed the point.

“I mean – look, just before Katy gets too invested, is she wasting her time? I don’t want to see her breaking her heart over someone who’s already attached if I can help it –“ and yeah, that gave him a bit of an inner stab, because part of being an expert in pining was wasting his time and breaking his heart and being completely unable to help it. But he was used to ignoring that inner stab, and it was all scar tissue in there anyway.

Khem was staring at him again, as warm and pleasant as a militant vegan watching someone order steak tartare. “Not as far as I know.”

Harper grinned, wide and stupid and hopeful – he knew that expression when his face did it, mostly at the worst possible time. “Thanks, Khem.”

She shrugged.

“I can see I’m intruding, I’ll leave you to your –“ he glanced at the thick book in her lap – “theoretical physics?”

“Thank you,” Khem said, and turned back to her reading.

He’d deliberately snuck away so he wouldn’t interrupt, but Katy caught him before he opened the front door anyway. In the dim hallway, she was practically glowing as she threw her arms around him and burst into that endearing perennial chatter.

“ – and Shay really likes gardening, I asked her to help me weed our back yard and she said yes and I told her about ordering from Bren’s because our oven is always broken and she said she could fix it, and she does martial arts which is why her arms are so amazing and where she got those scars and she said my eyes were really glittery and the dog is called Twitch and she said Cam was her friend so I think she might be single –“

“Khem seems to think she is,” Harper interjected.

Katy let out a high-pitched sound with no consonants in it and dashed upstairs, apparently to redo her makeup while attempting to sing something that clashed badly against the melancholy theme on the TV. One of the lovers had discovered that the other was actually married and expecting a child, and Harper stared into blue eyes that weren’t – weren’t quite right…

- and switched off the movie. He could wallow in old grief any day, and it’d come hunting him soon enough. Right now, Katy was happy, and soon enough she would need some advice from her brother-dad, and the new neighbours were… interesting.

He hoped, for Katy’s sake, that they’d stay longer than a few months. Even if it cost him fifty dollars.

#writing #alternative ethics

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gridoc · 4 years

Note

thinking about pirate au demolition lovers 💔 dhmu

Omg... YES

#.q #pirate au #ALL THESE SONG... SO PERF

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wordcubed · 5 years

Text

Some TodoDeku longfic recs

As requested by @todoizu-trash, here are some longer TodoDeku fic recs.

For this list, I’m defining anything over 30,000 words as “long”, and I’m not going to include any content warnings, since this post is already long enough and you can just check the AO3 tags if you need to.

A beacon in the dark (294k words, ongoing) — This is, like, one of the most popular fics in the fandom, so I’d be very surprised if you haven’t read it already, but just in case. AU where is Izuku is blind, though he has an empathy quirk that helps somewhat with that. TodoDeku is the big ship in this fic.

Case Study (117k words, ongoing) — “Izuku's friends are easy to detail in his notebooks, powers and strategies and personalities. His misconceptions about them are fleeting and easy to correct. But some people just aren't open books. Todoroki Shoto, Izuku finds, is a complicated beast whose tells come in the slightest change of expression, specific wording, or the minute gesture of a hand. In his mind he catalogs each of these, and finds that he's easier to understand than Izuku had originally thought.”

Conventional Taste (44k words, complete) — Shouto goes with Izuku to a hero convention.

Cut From The Same Cloth (31k words, complete) — Endeavor threatens to reveal All Might’s secret and secures an arranged marriage between Shouto and Izuku to keep it quiet. Set in an AU where Izuku and Shouto never met while at UA.

demolition lovers (104k words, ongoing) — Shouto is born quirkless, and becomes a nurse instead of a hero. And then he meets pro-hero Deku.

Facts (49k words, complete) — “Shouto barely has any experience with friends, so having a crush on his best friend was not something he was prepared for. He's fallen hard, and he’s awkward and unsure what to make of his feelings, or how to act on them. It doesn’t help that he and Izuku seem caught on the delicate line between friends and romance, and Shouto more than anything doesn’t want to ruin their friendship.”

i am cold, can you hear? (60k words, ongoing) — “As Todoroki learned from a tender age, growing up with your dad as the #2 hero in all of Japan has a few hazards--especially when you’re his designated prodigy and are constantly being goaded to do more, to be better. Said hazards include: getting dragged to literally every villainous scene to observe from the sidelines, rigorous (and sometimes illegal) training sessions, and family issues out the whazoo. But hey, at least his dad’s rival's kid is kind of cute.”

my voice is yours (48k words, complete) — “a selectively mute todoroki and very talkative midoriya fall in love when they least expect it.“

Nobody's Boy (124k words, complete) — Rei Todoroki switches Izuku and Shouto at birth. Izuku grows up the quirkless son of the #2 hero. Of course, he still gets into UA, and he still meets the boy he was swapped with.

Passion (38k words, complete) — “When he was young, Shouto knew the meaning of kindness. Then he manifested his Quirk. He became Todoroki after this. He locked his younger, naive self in the strongest safe box his mind could muster. Then he met Midoriya and remembered who he was.”

Summer Stars (61k words, complete) — Izuku invites Shouto to stay at his home over summer break.

Victim of Circumstance (38k words, ongoing) — “When you're a Quirkless orphan on the streets, you have to fight twice as hard for just about everything. Survival. Respect. Allies. Most of the time, you're just barely scraping by. And, for that matter, so is everyone else around you. So Izuku does what he does best: he helps. Sometimes that means mediating gang disputes; other times, it's something as simple as grocery shopping. It's not like anyone else will, after all. With so many hopes riding on him, there's only ever been one option. Quirk or no Quirk, UA or no UA—he's going to become a hero.” Yes, the TodoDeku ship is in this!

#Boku no Hero Academia #BNHA #MHA #TodoDeku #fanfiction #fic recs #todoizu trash #actual blog post #effortpost #OPs

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izzy-b-hands · 5 years

Text

The Taste of Blood

So here’s that vampire AU for Sledgefu I talked abt a while back. It falls into the two other AUs I’ve created thus far, Horror Movie and NOLA. This specific vampire one is going under the Demolition Lovers AU tag (because yes, this was inspired by the first MCR album in part.) Title is taken from one of my fave tracks on the Only Lovers Left Alive soundtrack (another inspiration for this AU.)

This is another one that might have some sequels, I’m still playing with the idea based on some other sources of inspiration! In any case I don’t think I can leave it with just this one piece.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“I think we should call my dad,” Eugene touched the mirror he was looking into, waiting for his reflection to appear, but it didn’t. “We’re both obviously sick. I mean...I can’t even see my reflection, and I know it’s there. It has to be.”

Snafu moved behind him and peered into the mirror. “Where? I don’t see mine either.”

“We’re both losin’ it,” Eugene muttered miserably. He didn’t want to call his dad, hadn’t even tried since he’d left to find Snafu in New Orleans. But he also didn’t want to go to any of the local doctors, and as it was they’d both started to develop an intense sensitivity to sunlight. Even if they’d wanted to see a doctor in town, they’d have to somehow convince one to make a house call at night.

He moved back to the couch, where they’d both been sleeping for the past week since the trouble had all started, and picked up his glass of water. Neither of them could keep anything down, but they kept trying water in the hopes of at least being slightly hydrated.

He sipped, and immediately gagged and brought it back up, nearly choking as his stomach contracted violently at the water inside of it.

“Baby,” Snafu whimpered softly, pulling him gently back onto the couch. “No more water. Just gonna make yourself more sick.”

“That isn’t possible,” Eugene protested. “We’re sick, so we need fluids. Give me your wrist, we can at least do a pulse check.”

“Alright Florence,” Snafu sighed and held out his wrist. They’d been doing these checks all week, with their pulses getting fainter and fainter with each passing day. Eugene was worried, but he didn’t know what he could possibly do to try and fix it. Nothing was working, and they both looked worse with every hour.

“What the fuck,” Eugene spat, and moved up Snafu’s arm, then to his neck, searching for a pulse anywhere. Nothing.

“Check me,” Eugene said, his hands shaking at the thought of what Snafu was (or rather wasn’t) going to find.

Snafu did the same, moving from pressure point to pressure point, anywhere, searching for a pulse. “Uh. Eugene.”

“I know, I know, I know,” he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and suddenly noticed how stiff the air felt in his lungs. The air went in and out, and he was still breathing, but it felt...off. “This isn’t possible. We’re dreaming. Or dead. Or something.”

“I think we are dead,” Snafu said quietly. “I think I know what’s wrong.”

“I gotta call my dad, now. Before we pass out and-”

“Eugene,” Snafu interrupted, and grabbed a hold of his hands, just tight enough to keep him sitting on the couch. “You aren’t gonna wanna believe me. And that’s fine, cause I don’t wanna believe me either. But...you remember how we brought Hugo home late last week?”

Eugene did. It had been a bit spur of the moment, but they’d been talking to Hugo for the past few months, meeting up with him most nights to hang out. It had always edged up near wanting to bring him back to their bed, but it had taken them until Friday of that last week to finally feel brave enough to ask him to come back home with them.

“What do you remember from that night?”

Eugene blushed. There was a lot he remembered, a lot of fun and good things. But he couldn’t remember much after.

“I know I found a weird rash on my neck. Figured Hugo and you were just overly enthusiastic about the hickeys.”

Snafu shook his head. “Still got the rash?”

Eugene moved his collar to show it off. Two small red dots, evenly spaced.

Snafu undid the first few buttons of his shirt and showed off the same.

“Okay, so Hugo was a little rough. What’re you gettin’ at, sweetheart?” Eugene laughed.

“We’ve never seen Hugo during the day. He bar tends some nights, but otherwise he doesn’t work. He dresses like he’s at least five years behind everyone else, and his teeth are...well, you’ve seen them,” Snafu continued. “I...this is everything my family made fun of growing up. All the ‘spooky’ parts of the city that the tourists fall for. But...”

“But what?”

“Some folks always used to warn about vampires. The city’s old, and you can melt right into it. Where else would you go if you couldn’t die and wanted somewhere you could just be and party or hide away or do whatever else you wanted?” Snafu asked.

“Are you saying you think Hugo’s a vampire?”

Snafu looked at the floor, and Eugene sighed internally over how pale he looked. How pale they both looked. Whatever this was, it was eating them alive.

“And you think he turned us, but it’s just now...taking full effect or something?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Snafu protested. “You think I like thinking that this is what it is, what we’ve got? This wasn’t my first option for a diagnosis.”

“Okay, I’m sorry I just...you know how it sounds. I know you do.”

Snafu nodded, sighed, and dropped his head into his hands. “There’s ways to find out. I mean...it’ll feel silly, but if we do some of these tests, and then it turns out it isn’t this, then we can move past it.”

“Fair enough,” Eugene agreed. “What tests do you know of?”

“Well, we failed the first one. No reflection. Failed the second one. Can’t keep any food or water down. Failed the third one. Don’t have a pulse anymore. I’ve got one more, but you aren’t gonna like it,” Snafu replied. He went to the fridge and pulled out the meat they’d picked up from the butcher on Monday.

It slowly dawned on Eugene what the test was, and his stomach turned. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Snafu said, slicing into the meat with a knife from one of the kitchen drawers and draining the little bit of blood that came out into two glasses. “C’mere.”

“I don’t think I can...” Eugene said. It looked repulsive, thickly settled at the bottom of the glass.

“It’s old blood, but nothin’ we can do about that,” Snafu said, and handed over one of the glasses. “Bottoms up, darlin’.”

He tossed it back like a shot after Snafu tossed back his, grimacing at the sensation of the blood as it slid down his throat.

“Now what?”

“We haven’t been able to keep anything down, so this should come up too,” Snafu replied.

They stood at the kitchen counter and waited. And waited. And waited.

“Jesus,” Eugene whimpered, and dropped to his knees, hiding his head against them as he wrapped his arms around himself. “Snaf-”

“I know,” Snafu interrupted softly, and pulled him up to standing again. “Come on. Back to the couch we go. We’re gonna be alright.”

“No, we aren’t,” Eugene heard himself whisper, horrified. “What the fuck, what the fuck what the-”

“Shhh,” Snafu interrupted. “Can’t do nothin’ about this if we panic.”

“We’re dead,” Eugene hissed. There was no other way around it. He was walking, talking, feeling the panic but with none of the usual heart-pounding. Because his heart no longer beat. Because they’d fucked a vampire, and now they were dead.

“I know,” Snafu was alarmingly calm, and it made Eugene itchy to watch. As much as he valued Snafu being able to be cool and collected, he also couldn’t bear to be the only one freaking out.

“We have to find Hugo,” Snafu continued. “May as well go straight to the source. I know going out sounds like shit right now, but we can do this.”

They dressed, just barely presentable to be out of the house, and wandered down to the nearest bar. The sun had just recently gone down, but Eugene missed it. If this was all real, and he really had already had his last moment in the sun, then he wished he could have somehow known. He would have enjoyed it more.

Hugo was behind the counter, working. But he looked like he wanted to jump the counter as he caught sight of them.

Eugene let Snafu take charge of the situation. He was too weak, too tired to do much more than stand by Snafu and lean against him.

“Hugo. We gotta talk,” Snafu called across the bar.

Hugo winced as they stepped up to the bar counter. “You guys look like shit.”

“Yeah. Feel like you might know somethin’ about that,” Snafu said. “Wanna take a moment in the back room with us so we can sort this out?”

Hugo sighed. “Fine.”

He led them to the back room, and Eugene let himself collapse onto the couch in the room with a groan. He’d felt better after the glass of disgusting, sludgy blood, but whatever effect it had given him had worn off.

“I thought I had drained you both completely. You should be dead,” Hugo said, staring at them in amazement and confusion.

“We are dead, asshole,” Eugene barked.

“I mean...not dead like me. Completely dead. Not getting up and looking for blood to drink dead. Speaking of, have you guys been feeding? Because you look awful,” Hugo said.

“Wow, thank you for again tellin’ us we look horrible after doin’ this to us,” Snafu spat as he dropped into a wooden chair near the couch.

“I didn’t mean to,” Hugo protested. “I was going to just kill you both. I hadn’t fed in weeks...it was nothing personal, I swear.”

“Hugo...this is is why you’re still single. I swear to fuckin’ god...” Snafu muttered. “Nothin’ personal. Jesus.”

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Hugo continued. “Look, I can help you adjust to this. It’s the least I can do, and it’s what my maker did for me. Granted, he was also well off and not bar-tending to pay rent, but-”

“Boo-fucking-hoo for you,” Eugene scoffed. “I’d say this is the least you can do.”

Hugo sighed. “Clearly, whatever we had is gone. So I’ll do this. I’ll give you a list of places folks like us-”

“Vampires,” Snafu interrupted. “I wanna hear you fucking say it.”

“Vampires,” Hugo said. “Places where vampires like us can meet up for resources, help when you’re new and learning how to feed and how much to feed, things like that. I’ll give you my phone number, but you call me; I won’t call you. You only call if you’re comfortable with doing so or really need immediate help, okay?”

Hugo grabbed a piece of stationary from a desk near one wall of the back room, and started to jot down the various places and people they could use as resources, and as he listened to the pen scratch Eugene’s heart sank.

No more sunny walks in the park, or sunsets watched in between making out with Snafu. No more dinners they cooked together, learning new recipes. They’d have to quit their jobs, and find new ones with only night shifts, or they’d lose the house. No traveling, unless they were willing to drive all night while knowing they for sure had somewhere to hide during the day.

And more killing. If they wanted to survive, there would have to be more killing.

“For now...give me five,” Hugo said and handed Snafu the paper before ducking out of the room. He returned with one of the other bartenders, who calmly bared his neck to Snafu as he knelt down near him.

“What the fuck is this?” Snafu scoffed.

“Dinner,” Hugo spat. “Unless you wanna keep looking and feeling like death.”

“We are dead!” Eugene screamed, forcing himself up off the couch even though every limb protested the effort. He strode towards Hugo faster than he intended to, unsure if it was his new state of being or his anger carrying him forward. He pushed him up against the nearest wall, and hissed. “We’re dead and it’s your fucking fault and-”

He was suddenly incredibly aware of blood in Hugo’s veins, and before he could stop himself he latched onto Hugo’s neck, effectively stealing his dinner from within him.

“Get him fucking off of me!” Hugo was screeching, caterwauling, but Eugene held tight onto him, hating how much he enjoyed the feeling of his now much sharper eyeteeth sinking into Hugo’s flesh, emptying his dead veins of his last meal.

“Eugene! Enough!” Snafu pulled him away, and Hugo dropped to the floor, whimpering.

“He deserved it,” he huffed.

“I know,” Snafu said. “But what good is killin’ him gonna do us, huh? None. Let him live with the knowledge. I guarantee that’s worse than bein’ all the way dead.”

“Neither of you are even up to my usual standard,” Hugo scoffed, still on the floor. The other bartender was staring at him, but made no move to retrieve him. “That’s what I get for fucking ugly goddamn-”

It was his turn to hold Snafu back as he tried to race towards Hugo, shouting abuse right back at him, how he was a shitty fuck, how he was lucky they’d even allowed him near them to begin with.

He dragged Snafu outside, regretting that he’d lost his cool.

But he did feel better, with the blood he’d taken from Hugo.

“Here,” he offered Snafu his wrist. “You’ll feel better. If we both feel a little healthier, then findin’ all of these people and places’ll be easier.”

Snafu pulled him into a dark corner near an alley, and kissed him hard before moving his wrist up to his mouth. The feeling of Snafu’s teeth slipping into his wrist was something else, painful but not so much to make him do more than wince. It was almost erotic, especially when Snafu looked up at him, still drinking, his lips locked against the skin of his wrist.

Which at least confirmed one thing he’d been mildly worried about, regarding blood flow. He didn’t know how it could still work, but he wasn’t going to question it when he had Snafu with blood on his lips, pulling him close and rutting against his hard cock.

“Let’s go home,” Snafu murmured into his neck. “We can check out everything Hugo gave us tomorrow night.”

Eugene nodded, but used a hand to carefully pull Snafu’s face back up towards his, and gently, with just the tip of his tongue, licked the drying blood from the corners of Snafu’s mouth before kissing him.

He had figured it wouldn’t be a jubilant walk home, but he had expected to at least feel better, having gotten confirmation of it all. But he didn’t. He was tired and hungry despite having fed off of Hugo, and wanted nothing more than to fuck until the morning or until they were both too tired and sore to move, whatever came first.

By the time they got inside, however, he was only half-hard and he could tell Snafu was just plain exhausted. They dropped onto the couch after making sure the door was locked and the windows were all still tightly covered with blinds and newspapers they’d taped over them, and Eugene knew they’d both be asleep soon. There would be no calling into work; he couldn’t keep his eyelids open let alone get up to go to the phone and call them both in.

What he could manage was to wrap his arms around Snafu, and try not to cry when he didn’t have the familiar sound of Snafu’s heartbeat to lull him to sleep. But he still had Snafu’s hand squeezing his, and it was just enough to work in place of the heartbeat.

#text post #LeeH writes #Sledgefu #Horror Movie AU #NOLA AU #Demolition Lovers AU #it is almost 2 am so please forgive any typos #I'm gonna reread this tomorrow after my tattoo appt and fix any mistakes I see

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reddielibrary · 5 years

Photo

My lonely heart calls

Prompt: “Listen, I know I originally came over here to talk about the noise but OMG you are so high right now like how are you even standing so no objections because I’m taking care of you until you’re sober" AU

Written by: Alexis | @quixoticquest

Word count: 3903

*click title to read on ao3

The eighties had not been a fun time for Eddie Kaspbrak. In fact, he preferred to forget the decade altogether. The local top forty radio station begged to differ, though, and wouldn’t you know, that’s what most people wanted to listen to when he was chauffeuring them around in a limousine. Jackson, Collins, Benatar and Gabriel all competing to make Eddie relive the worst years of his life. His only reprieve came at home, in the privacy of his apartment, where he was free to listen to whatever he wanted, eat cereal for dinner, and turn in at nine thirty promptly.

Unless it was Thursday night.

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down Letting the days go by, water flowing underground Into the blue again, after the money's gone Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground

Eddie groaned, throwing himself back against his couch. It had been like this for three weeks now. Like clockwork. Every Thursday, about an hour after he got home, the music would start in the next apartment over. Some eighties-loving sociopath and his endless collection of synth-saturated music that had come out when Eddie was a kid.

The only reason he hadn’t complained yet was because he was new to the apartment complex. Eddie had gained a reputation at his old place for being the overbearing neighbor, and he hadn’t even realized until he’d called the landlord over a party full of people not even five years younger than him. He wondered what kind of crusty curmudgeon he’d turned into, at the ripe old age of twenty-four - also, why wasn’t he getting invited to parties like that?

This time, though, it was personal. There was no reason to be blasting music, no matter what awful decade, on a weeknight. Noise curfew wasn’t in effect for another few hours, but Eddie had time to kill, and he couldn’t hear Seinfeld.

He marched himself over to the adjacent apartment, fists balled and ready for knocking. Here, the Talking Heads’s redundant lyrics were louder than ever.

Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it-

Eddie pounded on the door, just hard enough to drown out the words, but not the thumping bass. By the end of it, his knuckles ached as he cradled his hand to his chest, but the distinct sound of approaching footsteps could be heard from inside, so he had succeeded either way.

The door swung open, and a full frontal barrage of music hit Eddie square in the face - right alongside a thick cloud of earthy musk.

“Hey, neighbor, what can I do ya for?” the tenant drawled, just loud enough to be heard as he pushed his glasses up with the back of his hand.

And you may ask yourself Where does that highway go to? And you may ask yourself Am I right? Am I wrong? And you may say to yourself,

"My God! What have I done?" Eddie wondered.

His mother’s voice came screeching from some dark corner of his mind. WEED?! In my house?! Not that this was Eddie’s house, or even his apartment, or that he had ever touched the stuff. More likely than anything, he’d be dead if Sonia Kaspbrak had caught him high, stoned, or otherwise.

“Are you okay?” Eddie pronounced over the song, feeling his priorities shift from angry neighbor to medic. Just the sight of the guy - red-rimmed eyes magnified by dorky specs, leaning dangerously in the doorway - was enough to have all Eddie’s deeply ingrained warning bells going off.

“Better than ever, now that you’re here. Finally it’s a party.” Neighbor dude grinned so wide Eddie thought his cheeks might split open. “Do you want to come in? I’ve got some chips and Fanta - ooh, sorry, Orange Crush. Hope that’s not a dealbreaker.”

“Thanks very much.” Eddie barrelled past without much ceremony - thinking maybe he shouldn’t be so eager to act like he owned the place, but he had been invited inside after all.

Better yet, he could turn down the music himself.

“I’m Richie,” the stoned idiot stated as he shuffled down the front hall, while Eddie searched for a stereo. “I think I helped you bring in a box of baking supplies when you moved in.”

“Oh yeah, I remember.” Eventually Eddie pulled his shirt collar when the skunky stench became a bit too much. “I’m Eddie.”

“Nice to meetcha proper, Eddie. Glad to put a face to a KitchenAid mixer to a name.”

Eddie eventually found the big stereo system behind the couch, complete with speakers and a big honking volume dial that he used to turn the music down far enough that he could barely hear the Huey Lewis song that came on next.

“Hey hey hey! What are you doing?” Richie demanded, landing hard enough on the couch to send it teetering in Eddie’s direction for a single, terrifying moment. “You can’t just waltz into a man’s home and turn off his music! Didn’t your mama teach you manners?”

“It’s too loud,” Eddie answered, feeling himself slow his words as he stared down those bloodshot eyes (as if he was talking to a non-English speaker, and not a stoner). “That’s why I came over here, to ask if you’d turn it down.”

“Well I don’t have to turn it off. Noise curfew isn’t until ten.”

Eddie sighed, and reached for the dial again. He cranked the song as loud as he dared.

Don't need money, don't take fame Don't need no credit card to ride this train It's strong and it's sudden and it's cruel sometimes But it might just save your life That's the power of love

“Is that okay?” he asked.

“I can live with that.” Richie flopped away to lie on his back, humming along to the instrumental section. “Hey, do you want to smoke?”

“No,” Eddie said immediately - which made him realize his next order of business.

“Actually,” he went on, rounding the couch in search of paraphernalia, “where’s your, uh, blunt? Joint? Bong?”

“Uhhhhh.” Richie stared at him for a couple seconds, and finally pointed over toward the window at the back of the apartment. “My bowl is over there.”

“Thanks.”

The glass tube didn’t look anything like what Eddie was used to from pot (not that he had very much experience), but there was definitely marijuana in it, smoldering remnants releasing dank smoke into the evening air. Eddie opened the window wider, dumped out the contents of the bowl onto the fire escape, and pocketed the thing.

Eddie’s experience with marijuana began and ended catching a whiff of it off certain students in college. He knew sometimes his friend Bill smoked, but other than that Eddie had, and wanted, nothing to do with it.

He had, however, helped his friends through drunken stupors and hangovers on many occasions. This couldn’t be that different, right? They were both drugs. He’d just stay to make sure Richie didn’t drown in his own vomit or anything.

“I don’t think you should smoke anymore tonight,” Eddie said as he rounded the couch again.

“Is that so?” he asked, a smirk curling into one corner of his mouth.

“Yes. You’re high as a kite, I don’t want you to go overboard.”

Richie snorted hard enough to sound like it hurt, and rolled toward the floor, laughing like a hyena. Eddie stood watching, bewildered.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll stay in me quarters, captain,” Richie answered when he had recovered, taking on some kind of pirate voice as he saluted Eddie. “Won’t be goin’ overboard this time, I’ll keep me sea legs alright.”

“...Okay,” Eddie uttered, deciding he was better off not unpacking that one. Instead, he sank into the recliner next to the couch. Both pieces of furniture did a pretty good job of framing the tiny area that constituted the den.

“Do you want to watch TV?” Eddie asked. “Seinfeld is on.”

Before Richie could answer, The Power of Love gave way to a new song: chant, and a guitar solo ripping right on after. The toked idiot scrambled to sit.

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp

“Demolition woman, can I be your man?” Richie screeched in a tone matching the singer’s, echoing himself as he air guitared with more soul than Eddie could ever dream of having.

“I hate this song,” he grumbled to himself, thinking Richie wouldn’t hear over his own rock fantasy, and the actual track.

He was wrong.

Richie gasped. “This song’s awesome!”

“The singer sounds like he’s whining,” Eddie griped, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Joe Elliott is singing his heart out. And it’s about sex, which is like, arguably more awesome than the song itself.”

I'm hot, sticky sweet From my head to my feet, yeah

“Sticky sweet from my head to my feet,” Eddie repeated dully. “How moving.”

Not to mention, Eddie wasn’t all that interested in sex with a woman to begin with, demolition or otherwise.

Richie waved his comments away with his hands, only to twist over the edge of the couch. He managed to reach the stereo, and skipped to the next song.

I've been hearing your heartbeat inside of me I keep your photo right beside my bed Livin' in a world of fantasies I can't get you out of my head

“Oh.” Eddie sat back in his chair, arms crossed. “I don’t mind Whitney Houston.”

“Don’t mind.” Richie huffed dramatically. “Is there anything you like or do you judge everything on a scale of how much you hate it?”

“I just don’t like eighties music, okay?” Eddie stated. “It’s not my thing. I like what’s popular now. Whitney’s best stuff came out this decade.”

“Well what is it? Not a fan of synthesizer stuff? Don’t like rock in general? You more of a nineties divas kind of guy?”

“No, it’s just not my thing. I guess bad associations and stuff.”

Richie tilted his head, propped up on his hand, on the armrest. “What kinds of associations?”

Eddie scoffed. “That’s a whole decade’s worth of explanation.”

“Well we got time to kill,” Richie replied, sweeping his arms around the empty apartment in a grand gesture. “Just try to keep it under a decade, I got work tomorrow.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, tonguing at his cheek to avoid a smile. Was he really about to unload on a stoned stranger why he didn’t like a particular type of music?

I get so emotional, baby Every time I think of you I get so emotional, baby Ain't it shocking what love can do?

Well, he was high off his ass. Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

“I guess I just don’t like the eighties in general,” Eddie explained, shifting to tuck his legs closer. “My mom was kind of a bitch, and I got bullied a lot. So whenever I hear any of these songs I just remember long car rides to the doctors or getting yelled at, or hiding from assholes at the arcade. Soundtrack to the worst years of my life.”

“Dude, I feel,” Richie said, a hand flying out to put on top of Eddie’s. He short-circuited for a second, and yanked his hand back to tuck under his chin. “But that’s why I like the music! It distracted me from the shit going on in my life.”

Richie jumped up on the couch, sneakers and all. Eddie jolted upright when he heard a dangerous creak of springs.

“If I was getting reamed out by my folks, or dealing with pea brain jocks at school, I knew I could always go to my room and turn on the radio at the end of the day.” Richie moved back and forth to the beat, probably stuck in some memory of being twelve and jumping up and down on his bed. “Queen, and Bowie, and Journey, and Bon Jovi raving about the underdog. It’s not all sex and love, my friend, it’s about finding your voice and powering through!”

He dove behind the couch hard enough to shake a couple shelves, and Eddie rushed to his feet to see if Richie had killed himself. But he was fine, skipping through the songs until he found what he was looking for. A rhythmic baseline resounded from the speakers.

“Ice Ice Baby?” Eddie asked after a moment, lip curled in disdain.

Richie shot to his feet. “You’re really pushing it.” He began to bob his head, mumbling along to the song, and Eddie realized he was an idiot.

Pressure! pushing down on me Pressing down on you, no man ask for Under pressure, that burns a building down Splits a family in two Puts people on streets

Richie babbled the interlude of gibberish with the singer, snapping his fingers to the beat as he gently herded Eddie back around the couch. It took him a second to realize the stoned jackass was trying to dance with him.

“No, Richie, that’s okay-”

“It's the terror of knowing what the world is about,” Richie sang, just about cornering Eddie at the coffee table. “Watching some good friends screaming ‘Let me out!’ Pray tomorrow gets me higher-”

“I pray tomorrow gets you sober,” Eddie proclaimed. Richie didn’t seem to hear him though. He was just about back to his bum-bum-bums and dee-da-dos.

The beat was pretty catchy, Eddie decided. Which was the case with a lot of eighties music, whether he liked it or not. There was a reason Vanilla Ice had sampled the bassline.

It couldn’t hurt, he also decided, if he nodded a little to the music. Richie seemed to like that, and mirrored Eddie’s awkward movements with a lot more gesticulation.

Even as he wondered whether or not he should be letting Richie move around so much, Eddie felt himself relax enough to move a little more, as much as he allowed himself without shaking the foundation. If he forgot all his obligations for a second, and his crummy childhood, then it was easy to get lost.

Can't we give ourselves one more chance?

“Why can't we give love that one more chance?” Richie caterwauled.

Why can't we give love, give love, give love, give love Give love, give love, give love, give love, give love?

They danced like dumbasses with no rhythm for as long as it took several more tracks to play on the stereo. Richie knew the words better than Eddie could ever hope to, and his voice wasn’t that great, but Eddie was happy to let him wear himself out all the same.

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go faded out to nothing, the next song came in with a familiar voice, humming and ad libbing to the beat.

“Whitney!” Richie cried with his arms cast wide. “Your favorite!”

Eddie panted, catching his breath. “She’s not my-”

“Clock strikes upon the hour, and the sun begins to fade,” Richie crooned, singing into his fist like there was a microphone. He did a very good job matching the voices each time, even Whitney Houston’s velvety cadence. “Still enough time to figure out how to chase my blues away!”

He hopped up on the table for his performance, and this time Eddie didn’t try to stop him. Richie kicked magazines every which way as he shimmied and shook, singing his heart out.

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody-

Suddenly Richie thrust the pantomimed microphone up to Eddie’s lips. He was just lost enough in the music to open his mouth in time.

“With somebody who loves me!” Eddie exclaimed, watching as Richie grinned at him, eyes shining behind his glasses.

A second later, the microphone was cast away so that Richie could jump off the table, grabbing Eddie’s hands in exchange. Twisting to and fro, heads thrown back, to the tune of a bangin’ good song.

Doncha wanna dance with me baby? Doncha wanna dance with me boy? Hey doncha wanna dance with me baby?

“What the hell is going on?”

Eddie froze, tripping over his own feet in the process. There was another stranger standing at the foot of the front hall, keys in one hand, looking at them like they’d become a two-headed dancing monstrosity.

“Stanley! Come join us! Dance your fucking heart out!” Richie kept on rocking, but Eddie shuffled away, flushing on his neck as if he’d been caught doing something much worse.

Stanley, Edde figured, huffed, and put his things down to march into the den. “It’s almost noise curfew, Richie. You’re done for the night.” He turned the stereo off completely, much to Richie’s anguish - and, actually, a little bit to Eddie’s.

“Sorry, who are you?” Stanley asked Eddie, looking absolutely unamused.

“Oh - I’m your neighbor,” Eddie offered, wiping a bit of sweat from his hairline.

“Oh yeah. I think we’ve seen each other in the mail room.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Why are you jumping around my apartment though?”

“Uh.” Eddie glanced at Richie - only to find him slumped on the couch, already knocked out. Leaving him all alone to deal with the annoyed roommate.

“He was high,” Eddie tried, motioning to the snoozing lump that had once been a dancing, screaming idiot. “I came to ask him to turn down the music, but I didn’t want him to get hurt or pass out or throw up or anything, so I stuck around.”

“What?” Stanley’s brows furrowed together. “He’s not drunk. He’s high, he’s fine.”

Eddie felt his shoulders drop. “Oh.”

“He eats some crap and listens to his music really loud and eventually tuckers himself out.” Stanley sent an accusatory glance in Richie’s direction. “He’s not really supposed to of course, but I don’t care and as long as he does it when I’m not around then I don’t have to get in trouble for it.”

“Oh,” Eddie repeated. Only to realize something and add, “Okay, but he was jumping around and acting like an idiot, singing and shit. You sure he didn’t drink too?”

Stanley snorted. “That’s just how he is. I think he gets nostalgic or something when he’s high. I got him some eighties hits CDs for his birthday so he’d stay off my CD shelf.”

One more “Oh,” out of Eddie. His gaze drifted to Richie - absolutely out cold on the couch. Safe and sound, apparently. In no immediate danger due to his substance abuse. Eddie felt his neck warm again.

“That was nice of you, though,” Stanley mentioned, plucking Richie’s glasses off his face to fold up and set on the coffee table. “And if he plays his music too loud, don’t hesitate to come over and tell him to cut it out.”

“Thanks,” Eddie murmured.

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I wasn’t really planning on guests tonight...”

“Right.” Eager to get out of Stanley’s hair, Eddie hurried for the front door, offering a quick goodbye before seeing himself out. His own apartment was just a short walk away, and soon he was back in his own home.

His own, utterly silent home.

He didn’t realize until he started undressing for the night that he still had the bowl, when it fell out of the pocket of his jeans.

***

Eddie didn’t get a moment to himself until almost noon, when he found ten minutes between rides to grab a coffee, and sit in a normal chair for a second. If he wasn’t inclined to get promoted soon, he would have dropped chauffeuring weeks ago.

The tinny ringtone of his Nokia sounded in his pocket, and he hurried to answer without spilling his coffee.

“H’llo?” Eddie asked, taking a sip afterward.

“Hey! It’s Richie.”

Eddie managed to swallow before he spit his drink all over the window in front of him.

“How the hell did you get my number?”

“The landlord gave it to me. I told him you borrowed something from me and I needed to get in touch with you soon to get it back.”

“I didn’t borrow-” Eddie clammed up, and remembered the glass tube tucked away in his sock drawer, where he had put it in fear of the landlord doing random apartment checks for some reason.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll bring it back after work. Sorry, I forgot I had it.”

“No problem, no problem. I’ve got a spare laying around somewhere.”

“Oh. Neat.”

There was a beat of silence. Eddie heard Richie cough and sigh dramatically on the other end.

“I had fun last night,” he finally said, while Eddie rubbed his lip raw with his teeth. “I hope Stan didn’t scare you too much. And if he didn’t, maybe you’d want to come over and learn to like eighties music again. We could dance too, if you’re into that. It’s kind of cool to do stuff with someone else, and not just sit there by myself with the stereo going.”

“That sounds like fun,” Eddie said honestly - even if he was a little embarrassed Richie remembered everything after all. Weed really wasn’t alcohol at all, huh.

“And I won’t smoke. I’m not sure I dance better either way, but I guess we’ll find out.”

“Actually…” Eddie glanced around the tiny coffee shop - as if anyone gave a shit who he was, or what he was saying.

Nevertheless, he kept his voice low. “It’s not something I want to make a habit of, but if you were being serious when you offered, I’d like to try it.”

“Smoking pot?” Richie asked after a second.

“Yeah. You seem to know what you’re doing. Maybe just...ventilate the area better.”

“Yeah, okay. We could do it on the fire escape if you’re nervous. I know for a fact that the landlord goes out for bingo Sunday nights, so…”

“Sounds good.”

“Why the sudden interest?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Eddie murmured, feeling warmth creep into his cheeks as he traced the lid of his coffee cup. As if he were a flustered teenager again. “I think I could afford to mellow out a bit. Just for one night, maybe. And learn a thing or two about what it’s like.”

Richie laughed on the other end. “I can jive with that.”

For once, Eddie let the smile twitch onto his face. “Great.”

There was a little more silence, where he couldn’t think of what else to say. Luckily, his pager saved him, letting him know he was off on his next drive.

“Gotta go. Talk to you later, alright?”

“Sure thing.”

Eddie hung up, threw out the rest of his coffee, and drove off to meet his next ride.

“Any music preferences?” he asked, glancing into the rearview mirror as he navigated.

“The local station’s fine.”

Eddie flicked on the radio, turning the volume up so his passengers could hear.

Cause love's such an old fashioned word And love dares you to care for The people on the edge of the night And love dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves This is our last dance This is our last dance This is ourselves

That suddenly familiar bassline came in, bringing Eddie back to the night before. Not his mother’s car, or the arcade. Just Richie’s haphazard dance moves, and the coffee table.

Eddie smiled. Maybe eighties music wasn’t so bad.

#reddie #reddielibrary #writing team #prompt fill #quixoticquest

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