#joke. maybe. *squinting at my list of every other project that i need to do*

[sarcasticmudkip]

ough i have so many dnd songs i could edit into videos..

#just counted and i have 25 different songs for my campaign......... #bout to publish a City of Fortune original dnd soundtrack gang SLDKFJDSFLKJ #joke. maybe. *squinting at my list of every other project that i need to do*

[feeling-weirdy]

A quote prompt if possible- “holy f*cking guacamole?!?” (bc the idea of Vision saying that is really funny imho? 🤣)

"Just stay still for a bit, okay? This'll only take a second,” Tony stated plainly, his face inches away from one of the many projected screens that surrounded him.  Vision nodded, his eyes trailing down to the cord that connected him to Tony's computer.  The update was unnecessary, but clearly curiosity had finally gotten the better of Mr. Stark and it was only a matter of time before Vision eventually gave in.  Vision did exactly as he was told, sitting quietly in the chair next to the large table to held Tony’s primary screen.  He watched helplessly as Tony tapped randomly in the air, picking out pieces and wires that seemingly connected his internal workings.  

"It's quite alright. I have no place to be."  Vision smiled over at him awkwardly, uncertain whether this had been a good idea. Tony had assured him that it would be a quick and easy process, so he had hoped he would keep his word.  On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly known for his honesty.  Regardless, Vision kept an eye on every move Tony made.  He would be the first to know if something was amiss.

Wanda peeked around Tony’s shoulder, curiously scanning the screen.  She had followed the two of them down and was adamant that she be allowed to stay despite his insistence that this room was a “boys only” space.  Vision knew that was a lie as he had seen Miss Potts down here many a time, but perhaps that had been different.  Tony was right about one thing: There were many dangerous objects in this room and it was best for Wanda to not go poking around unsupervised.

"So...what exactly are you doing to him?"  Wanda asked, watching intently.  Her face gave away just how much she understood what she saw, a concept that caused Vision to chuckle softly.

Tony crossed the room, grabbing a small gadget from the other table before he answered her question.

"Oh you know...just some minor nicks and tweaks, recipes, satellite coordinates, Thank You note generator, upgrades, that sort of thing."  His tone made it difficult to pinpoint how much of his list had been serious.  Vision had yet to fully understand his sense of humor fully and while he had spent a great amount of time with Mr. Stark, actually processing humor and understanding it was a completely different set of skills.  One J.A.R.V.I.S. wasn’t able to fully comprehend.

Wanda squinted, eyeing Vision thoughtfully.  "He doesn't really need any of those things, does he?"  Vision smiled at her nervously.  “I thought he was...pretty perfect.”  She smiled back at him, her eyes lingering a bit longer than usual before she caught herself.  “Capable of those types of things on his own, I mean...”

Tony shrugged, oblivious to the staggering air that materialized between the two.  "Can't hurt. We wanna keep our boy in shape, don't we?"  Tony slapped Vision's shoulder, giving a breathy chuckle.  Moving to the other side of the counter, Tony created another screen, sliding his finger back and forth in random zig-zag patterns in a way only he could comprehend.

"It's just a regular procedure.”  Vision finally spoke up, reached out to grab hold of Wanda’s wrist in an attempt to calm her worries.  “There’s no reason to be concerned.  Trust me."

Wanda smiled again, looking a bit more relieved.  "It's not you I don't trust."

Tony scoffed, releasing a high chuckle. "Oh come on, Red.  I'm not gonna hurt him.  It's just routine, anything extra is just icing on the cake."  He continued poking around through Vision’s programming, scanning numerous lines of command prompts and coding lingo that was being transferred into his system.  “Plus, I practically built him.  Mentally anyway,” he added, mumbling under his breath as he continued.

"If you say so."  Wanda shrugged, curiously scanning the room as she looked at the other tech that filled the tables around her.  She wandered about the room, careful not to touch anything that may get her in trouble with the man who was watching her warily from his working position.  

Tony kept himself unusually quiet, a fact that began to bother Vision as he went deeper and deeper into his core programming.  Something wasn’t right.  A fact that became glaringly obvious as he felt one of his internal personality systems shut down.  His eyes blurred, gripping onto the table as he felt himself begin to lose balance.  A loud whirring sounded in his head, his visual slowly shutting down.

"Except...we may have a bit of a problem," he could hear Tony say.  

"What's that? You're routine maintenance not going so routinely."  Wanda asked, the two making their way back over to him.

"You play nice or you get a time out. I just uh...I might have...uploaded something with a bit of a bug.”  Tony snapped in Vision’s face, causing a strange jolt that woke up part of his system.  “Vision, you alright, bud?"

"I-I'm not sure. I-"  Vision stuttered, trying to hold himself together.  The bug had found its way into his internal processes, ripping apart anything it got its meaty little pixels on.  Even with a short scan, it t was impossible to locate just where it was hiding.  A sharp pain shot through him, confusion keeping him from locating just where the bug was hiding within his system.  Vision grabbed at his face, unable to hold himself together any longer.  "Holy fucking guacamole!  Can someone please, j-just-"  His visuals flickered, keeping him off kilter and only adding to the intensity of whatever emotions were flooding through him.  

"Yeaaah that was definitely a bug..."  Tony mumbled, running back over to where he was initially working.  Frantically tapping on the projection, throwing things back and forth from his virtual monitor.

"Tony. Fix him."  Wanda demanded, gripping onto Vision’s shoulder to offer some sort of comfort.  “Vis, are you okay?”

Vision couldn’t stop the outburst.  Wherever the little bugger was, it was messing with his language processes.  "Can you please turn this God damn thing off?  Just put it back, exactly how you fucking found it!  It's too much. I can't-I can't-"  He tried to calm himself, fighting through his inability to finish his sentences.  The pain became nearly unbearable, but he had to search for a way to correct the error.   Vision activated the anti-virus scan to locate where the little bug had lodged himself.  “My systems are overloa-”

"Young man, if you don’t watch your mouth..."  Tony joked, clearly not as focused as he should have been and having a ball during the entire interaction.  Vision didn’t find the exchange very funny.  “Sorry.  Not the time.”

"Tony!"  Wanda yelled, kneeling down in front of Vision as she kept one hand on him at all times. 

Tony pointed directly at her.  "Alright alright hey!  I don’t do well with a chaperone.  Can you back off?  Please?  Thank you."  The scan finally located the little bastard, and with the help of Mr. Stark, it was annihilated.  Tony let out a deep breath, leaning against the counter.  "Better?"

The pain stopped as his systems began to reboot, restoring his visuals and other senses.  Vision nodded, taking a moment for himself before fully answering.  Wanda sat quietly beside him, holding tightly onto his hand as he came to.  His settings seemed to have been reverted back to their original state before any alterations had been made.  Vision ran a quick scan to ensure that the bug was gone for good, only responding once the scan completed.

"Mr. Stark, I no longer wish to be subjected to your particular brand of upgrades."  Vision stated, patting the top of Wanda’s hand as a smile reappeared on his face.

"Harsh..."  Tony mumbled, turning off his monitor as he gave up on whatever else he had been working on knowing full well that Vision would not allow it after what had transpired.

Wanda looked at him with a worried expression.  “Are you alright?”  

“Yes, I’m quite alright now.  It seemed the bug stowed away into my personality chips and altered some settings.”  His eyes had fully stabilized and everything seemed to be back to normal.  He would make sure to do more in-depth scans once he was alone and able to fully concentrate, his trust to allow Tony to perform them himself entirely shattered.  “I must apologize for the foul language.”

“It’s okay, Vis,” Wanda chuckled.  “You weren’t yourself.”

"Maybe that should be yourself.  It was pretty funny,” Tony chuckled.  “And hey, at least we know now where the party button is.” 

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #scarlet witch #tony stark #iron man #rini drabbles #AoU to CW #I loved this prompt so much and I'm so glad you sent it to me #Only one day off and I feel extremely rusty I hope this even made sense lol

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 3

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Peter always unapologetically stealing all the uwus. It’s the MCU law, sorry, didn’t make it. Tony Stark can ✨rail me✨. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings​ @vozit​ @littlegasps​ @pilloclock​ @shereadsinquiet​

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves THE WORLD! I’m not kidding. Please visit her and show her some love, my homegirl is stressed 💖✨

I didn’t see Bruce nor Tony for a week. The doctor was away on some science conference (he sent me one dorky selfie next to a whiteboard full of barely intelligible equations as proof), Tony was in California, having some sort of a board meeting. How do I know? Peter, out of lack of better things to do, constantly texted me updates on his science patron’s whereabouts and what-abouts.

In times like these, it took me for a loop - I was on a first name basis with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. In the beginning, I was intimidated - I avoided them both like the plague and tinkered in the lab with headphones on whenever I could, until Tony made a comment so snarky I couldn’t resist joking back. That’s not to say Bruce was a social butterfly, but even he gave into my tomfoolery after seeing me stand calmly throughout several of Tony’s hissy fits.

What amazed me even more so was that despite Tony being literally an insufferable little brat, I still longed after him. Sure, the man was hot as hell - but his physical traits were much less significant when it came to my feelings towards him than the amount of sheer drive and willpower he possessed. He was stubborn - that’s another trait we shared - and unapologetically himself in every damn situation.

I could write poetry about the million expressions in his face, about the shine in his eyes.

But I won’t. He’s a technical guru. Ever since I started hanging around the tower, I became much more conscious about what I posted online. Not to say I had a Stark fan blog or anything, but I’d stopped scrolling through the tag, even if I didn’t actually click on any articles. I dutifully reblogged pictures of Tom Ellis instead - while he was a very fine, distinguished man, he wasn’t Tony Stark. I enjoyed looking at the first and enjoyed being around the other. And even though my feed still had the occasional “I love arm” shitpost, I focused on aesthetic pictures and quotes instead - things I had an active internet presence for.

My personal life wasn’t very interesting. I didn’t have any close friends and any and all sex I’ve had was just a bunch of one night stands, fueled by alcohol, selfish lust and the occasional joint. Despite having a fair share of kind, generous lovers, the morning after left me feeling a little bit emptier every time. I thought about getting a boyfriend or something… But quickly became totally clueless as to where I could find one. Men under twenty-five could barely hold my interest long enough to have a casual chat and I wasn’t naive enough to think there were a lot of honest, well-intentioned thirty-somethings that wanted to date my high school ass.

Peter had a crush on me, I knew that. The boy developed one or another kind of feelings for anybody who showed him the tiniest bit of kindness and it alarmed me. In any other case I would have bailed on him, gently, of course, to spare him the disappointment but my selfishness got in the way. I regretted it every day. A wave of desperation rose in me every time I thought about moving on without seeing Tony or Bruce, without Peter shyly smiling at me as he explained how the things he created worked. A faint hope that one day, his schoolboy puppy love will grow into a brotherly kind of regard was the only thing that kept me afloat in my sea of guilt.

As the Fall rolled around, so did my gloomy mood. It was hard to be sad when the sun was shining and the birds were chirping outside, but with clouds hanging over the city like a lead curtain, the bottled up negativity rose to the surface uninvited. Mother had returned from her business trip, adding an uncomfortable, hollow sort of chill to the house wherever she stood. I don’t know what was worse - the hours we spent in one room ignoring each other or the immaculately structured questions she asked me about my studies and extra-curriculars. Mother didn’t ask me about my friends, or my feelings or any of the other things a mother was supposed to give a damn about.

I was an asset to her company and that was that. If you would have asked her, she would tell you I’m old enough for her to mind her own business - which was technically true. Yet according to her, I’ve been old enough since seventh grade. My dad answered his messages sporadically, sometimes with a two-word answer and sometimes with a cocaine and booze fueled rant eleven texts long. I felt sorry for him. I really did.

My phone was blowing up. Party invitations, likes from people I saw once or twice (“oh my god, you’re, like, so hot, what’s your Insta”), DMs from guys looking to score an easy piece of ass. I never answered. If I wanted to party, I just sort of showed up and everybody went along with it. I took care of my appearance and it showed - never once was I turned away from a party. Everyone wanted to dance, to share their drinks, to light up and get faded together and fade into the city, into the cold air and grey sky.

Skirt swaying and top clinging to my chest, I danced. The sweaty, heated bodies around me did the same. Not one of us cared, it was a Tuesday night and the place packed way too many people. An arm snaked around my waist, startling me. I had to begrudgingly crack open an eye to see the bastard in the dimly lit room.

“I saw you at the bar, you looked bored. Maybe you need something to cheer you up?”

So not a creepy rapist. Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealer. At house parties like these, there was always The Guy. He never danced, he sipped on the same drink all night yet always looked like he was having the time of his life. I was no stranger to the occasional joint, or even something more stimulating…

“I got the good stuff, sweetums, you’ll be fine and dandy in no time.”

Eh, what the hell. I inconspicuously danced with the guy to the middle of the crowd, exchanging a few crumpled dollar notes for a baggie of two pills. In no time, I chased one down with a hastily poured Jack.

The world did become better, as the drug dealer promised. People were nicer, friendlier and I almost didn’t believe mother was a useless, stone cold bitch. I almost didn’t care that I was deeply, madly in love with a man as unreachable as Olympus. If I squinted, the guy sitting at the bar looked kind of like Tony, tan, dark hair, worn jeans and a band tee.

So I danced. I danced and I stared right at him and then we danced some more. I closed my eyes, letting his arms grab me and pull me, I let his beard scratch my neck where he sucked a mark on me, I let his rough palms choke me against a wall in one of the bedrooms on the second floor of the house. It felt good to be wanted. It felt great to be needed as he rutted inside of me, hitting that sweet spot with every twitch of his hips.

It felt lonely when he left, pressing a kiss to my forehead and saying something dumb like “Be good, kid.”. I don’t remember what exactly it was, only that I had to turn my face away from his breath that reeked like weed and vodka.

To shake off the void that made home inside of my chest, I went to the roof to get some fresh air. The house had a nice patio on it - I actually knew the owner - that hosted more plants than I’d care to count. There was an ashtray and an abandoned pack of cigarettes. I greeted the faintly blooming sunrise surrounded by a cloud of smoke, shivering in the autumn mist.

Sounds of the party became less prominent with every passing minute as people geared up to go home and get a few winks of sleep before going to work. New Yorkers weren’t really thoughtful partying on a Tuesday, but then again, neither was I. The city always was busy - even then, at the crack of dawn, the dull throb of a bassline was rudely interrupted by a blaring car alarm followed by dogs barking in aggravation.

The more I sat there, the bleaker everything became. I had enough common sense to know I was just coming off the drug but for once, I had been happy and content for several hours without a care in the world. It had been too long since I felt that way and what’s a little low after a good high?

Mother left for her early conference at five AM sharp, I entered my house at five-thirty, making a beeline in the shower and immediately dumping my alcohol and cigarette soaked clothes into the wash with the smelliest detergent I could find. I gave similar treatment to my body and my hair, using the chemically-smelling products on my body and on my hair, brushing my teeth multiple times.

By the time I was leaving for school, only a faint smell lingered in the air where I’d previously entered, so I set the air freshener to automatically spray the obnoxious mist every ten minutes. Mother gets home at twelve for lunch, that should be more than enough time for any remnants of my partying to disappear into the lilac and lavender fumes.

The Valium I’d popped to deal with the aftermath of Molly made my brain sluggish. One look in the mirror and I hastily put my sunglasses on - the ashen colour of my face and the slightly crazed look wasn’t very complimentary to my complexion. The teacher didn’t give a damn. I stared blankly ahead of me for most part of first period.

“What happened to you? You look like hell!” Peter’s exclamation, while usually would’ve alarmed me, barely made a dent in my stupor.

“I feel like shit, too,” Admit what you can’t deny. Deny what you can’t admit. “I didn’t get any sleep. Like, at all.”

Peter frowned, the crease between his eyebrows growing deeper with every passing second. I flinched when his hand tentatively touched my forehead - the pounding in my temples slowed to a dull throbbing but it was still unpleasant when someone was all up in my space.

“Jesus, you’re as cold as a corpse. Maybe you should go see the nurse,” His worry bled into me too. Like hell I was going to the school nurse! They were specifically trained to recognize the signs of substance abuse.

“I’ll head home straight after school, I think we’ll have to skip our sciencing,” No way also I’d be letting Tony and Bruce see me like this. Oh my God, I was a mess. “Mother’s home.” I added. Even the emotional frostbite I’d get from being around her was more tolerable than being a downer for Peter and Tony.

Peter’s face immediately softened in sympathy. He knew almost everything about my relationship with my family, including him actually seeing my mother that one time. He told me she gave him the creeps and I don’t blame him at all. The stoicism that was required for her work made my mother an unbearable person to exist around outside of her fancy office on the top floor of a glass high-rise building.

“Okay, but promise to text me if it gets worse. You might have caught the autumn bug that’s been going around,” He obviously said the last part to calm himself down. Sweet little Peter, naïve child. I solemnly nodded nonetheless.

When I got home, I went straight to bed. Tony was being Tony, as usual, but in a strangely kind way. I suppose it should’ve made me feel better and it kind of did, but then it went downhill from there. I couldn’t explain why I started crying. I bawled my eyes out at how unfair this god-damned world was and when the doorbell rang… Let’s say, the delivery boy hightailed it out of there once the bag of takeout was deposited into my arms. I looked and felt ghastly.

I ate as much as I could and dropped into a restless nap, drifting in and out of sleep with exhausted exasperation. There had not been a time where I felt so low after popping a pill and I was equal parts alarmed and satisfied. For one, the drug dealer didn’t lie like they usually do - the stuff was good and I still had the other pill hidden away in a bottle of painkillers, inconspicuously mixed with other white pills but shape distinctive enough for me to recognize should I have need in taking it again.

The thought of well, taking it again, was fleeting. I had school tomorrow and a missed science bender to make up for. A few buzzes of my phone later, I felt happier. Better. Not so down anymore. I meant every word that I said - Bruce was very precious, kind and gentle. And so, warm and soft. And totally kissable.

Well, fuck. What do I do now?

#bun writes #party favours #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #I've already got a room in Hell y'all welcome to book one nearby

[hermannsthumb]

From horny twitter: Hermann writes a very very detailed review of a vibrator online

not sfw below cut!!!!!!!!!!! 

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

Now, usually, Newt doesn’t mess around when he’s on the clock, because that’d be very unprofessional of him and that’s totally not who he is, but he’s in a little bit of a rut with his current project and could use the distraction. Online shopping is his favorite go-to distraction these days: he can lose himself in size charts and color options and hunts for coupon codes and forget, even for a few minutes, that the end of the world is accelerating towards them at an intimidating rate. Plus, he can write off half his shit as work-related expenses. Win-win. Though maybe not this particular search.

Newt has a pretty reliable arsenal of sex toys he’s used on rotation since he packed up and shipped across the world for the PPDC, but the ten-year warranty vibe he’s used since PhD #3 (and his favorite of the bunch) finally crapped out on him last week after a historically intense fight with Hermann got him historically wound up. Eleven years ain’t bad. After testing out a different charger, poking around in the wiring, and even going so far as to zap it a few times with some sorta-stolen drift tech to see if it stirred any life back into it, he finally decided it was time to just mourn, move on, and buy a new one. (Even if, unfortunately, his particular favorite model was discontinued when the company’s factory was destroyed in a kaiju attack and they never quite managed to recover. More casualties of the war.)

The sex toy market is truthfully booming during the apocalypse. It makes sense, Newt guesses—anything for a distraction. Personally, for Newt, orgasms tend to dampen his own existential dread, even if it’s just for a few minutes. He scrolls idly through a few Top Ten For 2023 listicles on various sex magazine websites to see if anything jumps out at him (some of the recommended toys are dildos he already has, and vibes that are a little beyond his k-sci paycheck), just hoping for something to jump out at him. Apparently he missed out on a limited-edition run of jaeger and kaiju-themed vibes and dildos that came out in early January, which he’s honestly a little pissed about—he’s the top expert on kaiju biology, god damn it! Didn’t anyone want to consult with him about their hypothetical junk? Accuracy matters.

“It’s all off,” Newt mutters grumpily as he examines a 360 view of one of the kaiju dildos. Trespasser. “It’s not even the right color. Fucking amateurs. Did they even try?”

“What are you doing?” Hermann says.

Newt slams his laptop shut. Hermann decided to cut his lunch break short today, apparently. “Shopping,” he says.

“You sounded awfully angry about something, is all,” Hermann says. He clacks over to his half of the lab and shrugs off his big parka, then pauses. “Do you need to...talk about it?”

“No,” Newt says.

Hermann breathes out in obvious relief. “Good,” he says.

He takes his usual spot at his chalkboard and resumes his calculating. Newt re-opens his laptop and scrolls away from Trespasser before he can make himself angry over anatomical inaccuracies again. The jaeger vibes from the collection are pretty cool, actually; the designs are a lot cleaner, and their artistic license is a lot more forgivable. The highest-rated of the set is one obviously (but not enough to invoke copyright infringement, if that can even exist for a jaeger) modeled off of Coyote Tango, with like, a million different settings, and an astronomical cost to match. Newt eyes it enviously. He could be shoving that up his ass right now if he’d just signed up for a stupid email list last year.

He follows the link to Amazon to read through some of the reviews enviously, too. Life-changing; best money ever spent; warranty lasts a lifetime. Ten stars across the board. Sold out, obviously. No idea when it’ll be back in stock. He could get the Striker Eureka model for twice the original cost as when it came out, if he wanted, but the idea of constantly having to associate the twenty-something punk Hansen kid with his intimate affairs makes him shudder.

A nine-star review for the Coyote Tango model from someone named MathLover69 is the only one to make Newt really pause, on account of how absolutely insane it is.

I saved quite a few paychecks to purchase this vibrator, and though the cost is steep, I must say it is absolutely worth it. As opposed to my normal vibrator (here another vibe is linked, and Newt’s eyebrows jump at that price, too), which has only five settings, an admittedly bulky body, and average battery life, the CT2023 has a generous ten, a sleeker design, and charges fully in a matter of minutes. The orgasms I have experienced while using it are higher in quality (and more numerous) than any resulting previously from masturbation, though I have not tried beyond setting six yet. It also works wonders for stress relief. (I have an incredibly irritating colleague, and nothing calms me down so much as a quick round with the CT2023 after a spat with him.)

The body is versatile enough to be either inserted into one’s—

Newt feels heat rise to his cheeks in spite of himself, and he skims the second paragraph of MathLover69’s review to get the gist of it—that there are, uh, plenty of ways to utilize the vibe, that it’s discreet and small enough to wear to work (if you were inclined to do so, as MathLover69 implies he might’ve been) and that when combined with the Yamarashi dildo, the pleasurable experience increased tenfold. Talk about oversharing. Jeez.

My only complaint would be that the design is a poor approximation of the real Coyote Tango, and for that I’ve docked a star. I would recommend this product.

“This guy is a total nut,” Newt says to himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

Newt considers the implications of showing Hermann the vibrator listing: Hermann will know he was shopping for sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys during working hours a mere ten feet away from him. Embarrassing, but on the other hand, MathLover69’s review is too funny to not share with someone else. “Hey, Hermann,” Newt says, angling his laptop towards Hermann. “Look. Who comments shit like this?”

Hermann descends his ladder carefully and inches up behind Newt’s shoulder, squinting at his laptop screen. He immediately turns bright red. Newt must’ve offended his Victorian sensibilities with the mere suggestion of self-abuse. “Oh,” he says. “Er.”

“Way TMI,” Newt says. “Listen to this line. ‘With the Yamarashi toy inserted into one’s mouth, and the CT2023 inserted up one’s—'”

“Well, how else is one meant to review a masturbatory aid?” Hermann snaps, surprising Newt. He looks oddly flustered. “Details can be—er—helpful. Can’t they?”

“Sure, dude,” Newt snorts. “Except they’re obviously just screwing with people. They literally have a 69 in their username.” He taps at the MathLover69, and doesn’t mention—on behalf of Hermann’s delicate mathematician feelings—that the MathLover part is obviously meant as a joke too.

“Well,” Hermann says. “Perhaps it’s just his—er, their birthdate.”

Newt turns around to stare at Hermann, taking in his red cheeks, his red ears, and the gaze he’s fixed steadily on his shoes. It’s all Newt can do to not to gape at him. “Hermann, you’re kidding,” he says. “Right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hermann says.

“You didn’t,” Newt says.

“I,” Hermann stammers. “Well—”

“I didn’t even know you—”

“That I what?” Hermann says.

Newt gives a half-shrug. Hermann doesn’t seem the type to engage in any sort of vice, let alone this kind. And especially not with the type of sex toys he apparently gravitates towards. (If Newt was a little bolder, and had a little less shame and care for hygiene, he might ask to check out the Yamarashi, because anatomical inaccuracies aside, wow that sounds awesome.) “I mean, you know,” Newt says. “You’re kinda you. No offense.”

Hermann takes offense. “I am human,” he says. “I am allowed to masturbate, Newton, and I was merely attempting to educate other customers about the—product—with my thoroughness.” He adds, awkwardly, “My review was voted very helpful, as you can see.”

“Okay,” Newt says with a grin. “I get it. Sorry.”

Hermann marches back over to his side of the lab with a scowl. Newt waits until he’s sure Hermann’s not watching him, and is too distracted by muttering angrily under his breath, to bookmark MathLover69’s page of reviews.

It turns out (as Newt revisits the page later that night, in the privacy of his bunk) Hermann buys and reviews a truly staggering amount of dildos and sex toys, and on top of that, has absolutely zero filter behind the wall of anonymity. It’s to the extent that some of his reviews read like goddamn sexts.

It took me three occasions to successfully work myself up to taking in the entire length…

My orgasm was so pleasurable I alarmed my colleague with the noise I made, who believed me to have injured myself…

The highest vibration setting is a bit of a disappointment…

These are excellent for double penetration…

It also turns out Hermann is a veritable sex fiend. Or at least a masturbation fiend. Judging by his reviews alone, Hermann’s purchased more than a dozen different toys in the past three years alone. That’s four a year. One every three months. That’s not even including buttplugs, which (according to other reviews) he sometimes just wears into the lab (“work”) for the hell of it, which Newt isn’t even going to think about right now. How the hell has Hermann kept this much of his life under wraps? When the hell does he have time to jerk off as much as he apparently does? No wonder they never seem to have any fucking funding; all of Hermann’s paychecks are funneled directly into his—well.

Newt recalls the faux-injury incident Hermann mentioned in a comment with mild embarrassment. No wonder Hermann had been so weird and flushed when he opened his door, and made excuses to say bye to him so quickly—Newt just caught him (oh, boy) immediately following the best orgasm of his life. Well, mild embarrassment, and a little more than mild arousal. What Newt would’ve given to have been there five minutes earlier, to watch Hermann in the act of the best orgasm of his life, to maybe even be the one to cause it…

What Newt would give to use Hermann’s fancy-shmancy vibrator on him, or literally anything from his giant masturbatory arsenal. Or even just watch him use it on himself. Hermann’s just so damned buttoned-up and uptight—it’s all about the contradictions. Juxtapositions. Newt unzips his jeans and sticks his hand down his boxers. “Stupid Hermann,” he moans, as he begins to bring himself off to the image of Hermann with that stupid kaiju dildo down his throat and that stupid jaeger vibe up his ass. Negotiator of peace between the two? Stupid joke, stupid Hermann. Or maybe he’s picturing Hermann showing up to the lab, all plugged up and loose from using a different vibe on himself that morning. Or maybe Hermann pushing two dildos into himself at once. How the hell can he even manage that? Ass his size— “Oh, goddamn it,” Newt moans again, and comes all over his hand.

Whatever. It’s not like Hermann’s ever going to find out about this.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #not sfw ////

[mcwriting]

the costume

In which Tom dresses as Marty Mcfly for a Halloween party in Malibu and things get progressively wilder.

This is kind of my 200 followers celebration plus just some Halloween fun! Thanks to everyone who’s following, I really appreciate all of you and if you ever need a place to talk, my asks and messages are always open!

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1622

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption

Rating: K/K+

~

“So, how do I look, Jennifer?” Tom asked you with a raised brow and a smirk, his arms spread in display. 

You rolled your eyes in amusement. Tom looked ridiculous in his Marty McFly outfit consisting of jeans, a patterned button up, a Levi jacket, and the iconic puffy orange vest. 

Tom was taking you to a Halloween party at Robert Downey Jr.’s Malibu residence that was going to be filled with celebrities, some you know personally and others you were just fans of. 

Somehow, he had convinced you to dress as Jennifer from Back to the Future since he was Marty. So there you were, clad in pink floral pants that went way too high up your waist, a white button up, and a denim vest. Your hair was styled into big loose curls. 

“Good one Marty. That’s the last time I’m calling you that tonight, by the way,” you joked as you went to peck Tom on the lips. “You look very convincing. Too bad Robert wouldn’t go as Doc. You guys could finally recreate that scene.”

Tom chuckled.

“Yeah. I’m not actually sure what he’s going as tonight. He said it was a secret,” he said offhandedly. You could see a glint in his eyes but decided not to push him. 

Instead, you went outside where a driver was waiting to take you to the house party.

The party was in full swing when you arrived, drinks flowing freely among the star-studded crowd. You saw all kinds of costumes, movie characters, famous people dressed as other famous people, memes, mythical creatures, and more. 

You were a little star struck, but Tom led you through the crowd, saying quick hellos as you navigated the mansion. People were complimenting Tom’s and yours costumes and you felt yourself blushing.

Eventually you came upon a group of people you actually knew and talked for a little bit. You started looking around expectantly.

“Hey, babe?” you asked Tom quietly. He hummed in response. “Where is Robert? I mean, it is his party after all.”

“Oh you know him. He’s waiting to make an RDJ entrance. He probably won’t be long.”

You accepted that answer and went back to conversing with your friends, Tom leaving you for a moment to grab drinks.

Eventually the lights started flickering.

“Here he comes,” Tom muttered under his breath. You smiled. 

Some strobe lights circled the room and on came a spotlight, leading to cheers and applause.

Only a couple yards away stood Robert Downey Junior dressed in full Doc Brown garb, from the Hawaiian shirt and lab coat combo to an electrifying white wig. 

Your jaw dropped and you turned to Tom, who was just smirking.

“You knew?” you asked incredulously. Tom shrugged.

“Maybe.” 

You rolled your eyes again. Robert scanned the room as people looked between him, Tom, and you. Finally his own eyes landed on Tom.

“Great scott! Marty, is that you?” he asked in an eccentric voice, one finger pointed up to the sky. He marched over as Tom began laughing, unable to hide his amusement. 

“Woah doc! I’ve been lookin’ all over for you!” Tom said in an exaggerated northern American accent, paralleling Michael J. Fox’s from the film. 

They didn’t make it any further as both men couldn’t help but break into laughter, hugging. The lighting went back to normal and people started going back to their own conversations.

“Well look at this, you brought Jennifer!” Robert said, turning to you. You hugged him quickly and began talking with him.

A few minutes had passed when there was a loud interruption.

“MCFLYYYYYYY!” came a loud exclamation from a male voice. Everyone turned towards the source.

“No. Way.” you said, looking to your boyfriend again. He had a wild grin on his face. 

From the crowd burst another man onto the scene: Jake Gyllenhaal. 

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

He was dressed as the one and only Biff Tannen: cuffed jeans, a white tee, and a grey zipped jacket. 

He pointed angrily at Tom, stomping over.

“Why don’t you make like a tree and get out of here!” Jake exclaimed. He, too, quickly fell into a fit of laughter just as the other two had. 

He then happily greeting the group as well, hugs all around.  

“What’s next, George and Lorraine?” you joked, looking to Tom expectantly.

“No, no. Jake was the last of it,” he assured. 

You took a few group photos to show off your great costumes and spoke for a while. After a bit, people started floating around from group to group, saying more hellos to friends and Tom making introductions for you.

You were happy to just hang out with everyone and drink and be merry, but eventually Jake came up and whispered something into Tom’s ear. He nodded and turned to you.

“Okay babe I need to go do something real quick are you good or do you want me to find Chris and the others?”

“Oh, um, well. I think they’re just over there actually, but where are you going?”

“You’ll see,” he trailed, throwing you a wink. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” 

He gave you a quick kiss and disappeared with Jake. You resigned yourself to finding your friends but couldn’t help but wonder.

What are those boys up to?

You were mid conversation when the lights once again changed to illuminate the stage where the DJ had been all evening. Everyone turned their attention to see a background revealed to look like a school hallway. 

Out came Jake in his Biff garb with a microphone, a giant smile on his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Doc Brown and Marty McFly,” he said gesturing to the side before disappearing off stage. 

Tom and Robert appeared, now changed into different outfits. 

This time, Tom had slacks with a grey and red jacket along with a patterned white button up underneath. Robert was dressed in similar pants with an eccentric red and yellow button up, a white sport coat, and white had with red accenting.

You slapped a hand over your mouth.

Tom shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Doc, she didn’t even look at him,” Tom said in his Peter Parker voice.

The crowd cheered.

One they died down, Robert said the next line, continuing the scene that had been famously deep-faked of the two.

The scene finished quickly with Robert first saying,

“What are their common interests? What do they like to do together?”

“Nothing,” Tom finished. With that, Robert walked off, leaving Tom to look around confused and the lights to go down.

Everyone screamed and clapped and cheered at the scene’s end. You let out a few whoops and clapped as the lights were brought back up, Tom and Robert both laughing and waving.

Robert gave a conductors’ signal for the crowd to quiet and everyone settled down. 

“I just wanted to give a big thanks to everyone for coming out tonight,” he began. He gave a quick speech about the circumstances that led to them doing the scene for the party and then turned the floor over to Tom.

“Thank you, thank you! Before I say anything else I first want to call up my girlfriend, wherever she is,” he said, looking around the room. A few people moved and pointed towards you, making it easy for Tom to spot you in the crowd.

“Come on up here, y/n!” he exclaimed. People shuffled around to let you go forward and step up onto the stage. You were confused as to why he wanted you there other than maybe because of your costume.

Tom wrapped an arm over your shoulders before speaking again.

“I need to apologize to my dear y/n tonight,” he started, causing you to give him an equally concerned and confused look. “Y/n, I’m sorry for lying to you about my whereabouts this week. Every time you went to work I came here to rehearse instead of just going to the gym.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and laughed, then smirked.

“Well I guess I should be honest too, then,” you followed, stretching up to say it into Tom’s mic. It was Tom’s turn to look surprised.

“Let’s just say that “find my friends” and snap maps don’t lie...” you trailed, causing the crowd to “ooooh” and Tom to drop his jaw. 

“You knew? Since when!?”

“The first day you came here, you goof. I kept dropping hints all week to see if you’d come clean about it.” 

“So you’re telling me, in front of all these people, that you knew about our surprise? And you never said anything?”

“Well I wouldn’t say I knew for sure, but that was the best case scenario and I figured I’d give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Tom just shook his head incredulously and gave you a squeeze, planting a quick kiss on your head.

“My girlfriend, everyone! The smartest, and maybe sneakiest, girl I know!”

With that the party continued on early into the morning of November first. By the time you were taken back to yours and Tom’s place, you were both still pretty buzzed from all the drinks you’d consumed after Tom finished his little speech. 

Neither of you, however, were all too tired yet.

“So... Marty,” you began as you and Tom walked down the hall to the bedroom.

“I thought you weren’t gonna call me that anymore,” he said with squinted eyes.

“It’s a new day isn’t it?” you replied, sliding his jacket off his shoulders. 

“Well I guess it is, Jennifer.” His voice was husky as he began stripping off your own vest. 

It didn’t take long for you to exhaust yourselves after that.

~

A/N: Once again, thanks to everyone for reading and following! I know I’m not the most consistent writer but you guys are awesome for sticking around. Hopefully I can get another marriage project chap our by next week :)

permanent tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson

#the costume #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland oneshot #spider-man #tom holland spider man #robert downey junior #robert downey jr #jake gyllenhaal

[redrobinfection]

(16) Graveyard

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober (2018) - Day 16 “Graveyard”

Tim & Damian | Implied JayTim | Implied DickDami | College AU | No Capes | Crack | actual discussion of literature | Dick Grayson was adopted by the Drakes instead of the Waynes | Want to write/create with me? Find the prompt list here!

~*~

"How about four out of seven?" Tim asked with a shrug, winding up the toilet paper roll again.

Damian, his fellow barista, threw his roll at Tim's head, missing wildly. He glared. "You cheated, Drake!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he retrieved Damian's roll and began winding it up too. "How could I cheat at coffee cup bowling, ‘Wayne’?"

"You wind your roll too tightly. It doesn't unravel as much when you pitch it and thus has more mass by the time it hits the cups."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "What are you now, a physics major? That just sounds like strategy, dude. You are free to roll your roll as tightly as you'd like. That isn't against the rules."

Damian fumed. "The rules you made up! This is why I said we should use the rice crispy ba--customer."

Tim whirled on the spot, seeing that, indeed, a paying customer had entered their little, semi-enclosed coffee shop. Outside, a few students sat or sprawled over the sectional couches that filled the large basement of the university student union in which the shop was located.

Tim turned and vaulted over the counter. He heard a quiet "-tch-" from Damian as he walked to the hinged raise-able section of the counter and let himself in.

Tim straightened his apron and stepped up the register with a smile. The customer stood about five feet from the register, head tilted back, studying the menu board over Tim's head with bleary eyes. The guy was like a zombie, he was that exhausted. Tim cut his eyes over to the clock on the wall. 3:45 am. Hell of a time for coffee.

Tim glanced over his shoulder at Damian, who was reawakening the cranky espresso machine with deft fingers. Seven hours and forty-five minutes with Damian "the Demon " Wayne down, only four hours and fifteen minutes to go. Tim turned back to their customer and sighed. This was going to be a loooooooong morning.

At second glance, there was something familiar about the guy, but Tim couldn't put his finger on where he knew him. The guy had pretty teal eyes, but they were reddened and dull, like he hadn't closed them except to blink in way too long. He was also pretty well cut, Tim noticed, with clearly muscled arms and pecs so defined that Tim could clearly see them through the man's sweater. Maybe that's how Tim knew him? Maybe he'd seen him in the UREC weight room?

The guy's most eye-catching feature by far was the white forelock that curled down over his forehead. He was the third person Tim had met to have a whitened forelock like that; the other two were fraternal twins who had had small patches of albinism right at their widows peaks which affected both the skin and hair. Tim idly wondered if this guy's white lock was natural too. In any case, it looked frickin' cool, a lot cooler than his own; the best thing he could say about his own hair was that he could pull off the 90's curtain cut plus semi-mullet well enough that he could go an entire semester on a single haircut.

Tim was drawn out of his thoughts when dude finally stepped up to the counter and began to speak.

"Uh, hi, could I get a large, double-shot caramel latte?"

"Absolutely. How many pumps of caramel do you want?" Tim asked cheerily.

The guy looked up from digging through his overly stuffed messenger bag. "Uhh…the normal four should be fine."

"Okay, that will be $6.47. Can I get a name for the order?"

The guy didn't look up this time. "Uh, Jason. Gimme a sec', I know my wallet is at the bottom of this thing somewhere."

"No problem, take your time. It's not like we have a line, anyway," Tim joked.

This guy looked so dead right now--inside and out--that if he didn't find his wallet, then Tim would probably just buy the coffee for the guy himself. He understood better than anyone the sudden need for caffeine at odd hours of the day. He's not sure how he would have finished half his computer science projects this term without a much-needed double-espresso every couple of hours, to be honest.

The guy--'Jason' apparently--finally fished out a small money clip then handed over a student ID card. "Put it on my Dining Dollars, please."

"Yeah, no probl- wait a minute!" Tim cut off, staring. Suddenly, it had hit Tim where he knew this guy. "Aren't you that kid who always sits at the front of Professor Hyatt's nine-fifteen, Tuesday-Thursday, Modern European Literature and answers all the questions?"

The dude raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Why…? Wait…" He squinted and leaned in. "Aren't you the kid who once tried to sit all the way back in the AV booth, since, and I quote, 'the back wasn't far enough back'?"

Tim grinned as he swiped the ID card through the register. "Haha, yeah."

Damian moved as if to step up to the counter, the guy's drink in hand, but stopped dead about a foot away. He stared.

"Wait. Aren't you the guy who always comes in, gets tea, and sits in the window over there and reads romance novels?" Damian asked, eying him appraisingly.

The dude huffed. "Yes. My name is Jason--by the way--and they're not romance novels, it's classic lit. Now can I get my coffee?"

Damian handed the coffee over the counter, but raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You mean to tell me Rebecca is not a romance novel?"

"Wait, what!? Do you mean Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca?" Tim asked as he handed Jason's ID card back over the counter.

Damian nodded wordlessly. Tim snorted, then said, "That's not a romance! That's a totally a murder mystery! You must be confusing it with Jane Eyre. I get those mixed up too."

Jason nodded in agreement, tucking his ID away before taking his first sip of coffee. He moaned, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he savored in the sweet bliss of piping hot caffeine at 3:49 in the morning, then he looked at Damian and said, "Well, actually, I'll give you that one, uh…" --he paused to squint at Damian's name tag-- "...'Damian'; Rebecca is a modern romance novel by classification, but it's also a crime thriller just like--whazzatsay?--'Tim' said."

He turned to Tim. "I'm not surprised you'd confuse it with Jane Eyre, considering that a lot of scholars believe du Maurier adapted it from Jane Eyre."

"Wait, really?" Tim said with a laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking that! Rebecca is like the less boring version of Jane Eyre."

Jason froze halfway into sitting down in one of the arm chairs that lined the wall closest to the door and looked up at Tim as if he had just suggested burning down the library or something similarly unthinkable. "Whaaaaaat?! I can't believe you just implied that any of the Brontë sisters' works is boring!"

Tim laughed again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was only twelve when I read Jane Eyre, so maybe I'd enjoy it more if I read it again now--with a mature perspective--but I remember Rebecca being a blast for thirteen-year-old me so…" He smiled, then shrugged.

Jason stared. "Twelve? Thirteen? Jeez. What else were you trying to read that young?"

"I mean, I read Moby Dick the year before that, in sixth grade," Tim admitted, shrugging until his shoulders hit his ears.

Jason gave him a flat stare. "Moby Dick? Moby fucking Dick? You've gotta be kidding me. And lemme guess, you also thought Herman Melville's masterpiece was a load of crock?"

Tim laughed, but shook his head and waved his hands placatingly. "No, no, no. I only understood, like, every fifth word--so.many.whaling.terms!--and it took me four months to get halfway in only to realize there was no way I was going to finish it by the end of the school year--I ended up skipping to the end and guessing for a lot of the AR test questions--but I definitely got the sense that it was a seminal work and that I was just too young to appreciate it. I've always meant to go back and try it again, but I still haven't gotten around to it."

"Why the hell were you trying to read Moby Dick at the age of twelve?" Jason asked incredulously, leaning back in the chair and taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Eleven, but, ah, well, my mom was convinced I had to be The BestTM in everything, so she pushed me to max out my Accelerated Reader level by the end of sixth grade and demanded that I always get the most AR points of anyone in my class, so I read a lot of the 20 point-and-up books." Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think Moby Dick was 47 points...Rebecca was 25...Jane Eyre was 33..."

Jason stared, shaking his head slowly. "So…what? You're fine with Moby Dick, a romance of the American Renaissance, but a gothic romance of the British Victorian era like Jane Eyre isn't good enough for you? Next you'll try to tell me you think Wuthering Heights is a snooze fest!"

"Well, I mean, I never could get into it, so…"

Jason slammed both hands down on the arms of his chair, incensed. "Okay, Mister, get your butt over here and sit down, we need to have a talk about Victorian Gothic and why, hands down, it is some of the best literature ever written."

Tim laughed again, then bit his lip, considering the offer. He glanced around the nearly empty coffee shop. Then he leaned over the counter and looked out into the lounge--there were exactly four people there and only one of them wasn't completely asleep in their books. Yeah, he could probably afford to humor the man.

He turned to Damian. "Hey, Dames, I'm going to make myself a coffee and take my break. You good to hold down the fort?"

"I told you not to call me that," Damian snapped, but there was no real heat to it; he liked to pretend that he hated the guts of all his coworkers, but Tim knew that he was Damian's favorite. "However, yes, I think I can manage. Go take your damned break, but when you come back I fully expect a rematch in bowling…and don't you dare cheat this time!"

Tim rolled his eyes and groaned, then turned toward trying to coax Ol' 'Spressolino--their affectionate name for the cantankerous espresso machine--into spitting out a double-shot for him. "It's not cheating, but fine, we'll do it your way," Tim replied. "But I'm telling you, you have to buy those rice crispy balls. I definitely don't want to have to explain to Barbara why some of the food on sale looks like it went through the spin cycle in a dorm washer."

Damian grinned smugly. "My pleasure. It will be a small price to pay in order to ensure your swift defeat."

Tim shook his head, grabbed his espresso in one hand and two biscotti off the front counter in the other, ducked under the counter drawbridge, then slid into the armchair across from Jason. He offered one of the biscotti to the other man and Jason accepted the free food with an appreciative smile. He already looked ten times less zombie-like, thanks to the caffiene, and he was honestly pretty damn attractive.

"Okay," Tim said, peeling the wrapper off his own biscotti and dunking it into his bitter cup of joy, "Educate me."

Between sips of coffee and bites of biscotti, Jason began explaining his thoughts on the romantic period of literature, but barely a minute into his lecture, a plastic-wrapped, ball-shaped rice crispy treat about the size of a cantelope whizzed by their feet and crashed into the ten extra-large paper coffee cups arranged in a bowling triangle at one end of the coffee shop, scattering them in a definitive strike.

Jason jumped in his seat and looked around wildly. "What the fuck?"

Tim sighed. "Daaaaaaamiaaaaaaan…"

"Shut up, Drake! I'm practicing. I need to hone my skills and adjust my form so I can thoroughly crush you in our next round," Damian called back. He marched from the counter to the end of the shop to retrieved his plastic-wrapped projectile.

Jason blinked in confusion. "I repeat: what the ever-loving fuck?"

Tim sighed again, then explained, saying, "It gets pretty boring in here during the graveyard shift, so we invented a game, coffee cup bowling. Normally, we'd sleep or study, but Damian finished his exams two days ago and I don't really study for exams, per se-"

"And sleep is for the weak," Damian finished, nodding as he walked past them carrying his sweet, gooey ammunition.

Tim nodded sagely, in agreement. "Sleep is for the weak."

Jason glanced over Tim's shoulder at the coffee cup bowling 'pins' and then over his shoulder at Damian as he lined up another throw. "You guys are insane," he declared.

Tim made a dismissive gesture. "I mean this is my third graveyard shift in a row and Damian here is almost 20 hours into a 24-hour stint. After that much sleep deprivation, you'd lose your sanity too."

Jason tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

"If you want, you're welcome to join us after we finish our coffee and literature talk," Tim offered amiably.

Jason watched as Damian threw another strike, sending one cup so far it landed in the pot of the ficus in the corner, and raised his eyebrows. "You know what…why not." He turned back to Tim with a grin. "I could use a bit of fun before I go back to work on my Native American Lit paper."

"Are you a lit major?" Tim asked curiously.

"I am."

Tim nodded. "That makes sense."

"And you?"

"I'm a CS major--computer science."

"That makes sense," Jason echoed, grinning.

Tim grinned back at him and waved a hand. "Okay, so as you were saying…?"

"Yes, as I was saying…"

Jason continued his little lecture while they continued sipping their coffee and nibbling on the biscotti. When they had finished--the coffee, not the discussion, because Tim was pretty sure Jason would go on for hours about literature once you got him started--they joined Damian in a game of "ten-cup."

It was in the middle of this heated battle of cups and marshmallow-bonded puffed-rice cereal balls that their next customer found them fifteen minutes later. The man, dressed in flower printed leggings and a black hoodie with "Gotham University Aerial Arts" printed across the chest in blue, took one look at them and grinned.

"Oh, hey! Coffee-cup bowling! I love that game! Do you think I could interrupt you guys for just a sec to get some hot chocolate?"

All three of them--the two baristas plus their customer--turned and stared.

"Hot… wait, what?" Jason said, laughing a little. "Man, it's like 4:30 in the morning. Why are you getting a hot chocolate at 4:30 in the morning?"

The man laughed, too, shrugging before he explained, saying, "I don't like tea or coffee all that much, but I just finished a 20 page paper on ethics in police enforcement and I need a pick me up. I need to get my warm fuzzies going again."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, moving back toward the counter to get the man his drink. "You're going to end up being the cuddliest cop on the street, Dick."

"You know it, Timmy!" the man--'Dick' apparently--exclaimed, pulling Tim into a bear hug when he made the mistake of passing too close to Dick on his way to the counter. The hug escalated into a full on octopus hug as he lifted his legs to wrap around Tim's hips. Tim, for his part, ignored the grapple, opening the leaf in the counter and hobbling over to the drink bar with the human cephalopod still attached.

Damian and Jason stared. Damian cleared his throat and eyed Dick with poorly disguised interest. "Wait, do you know this man, Drake?"

Tim blinked dully as he turned around, a cup in one hand and a packet of instant hot chocolate in the other. "Yes. He's my brother." Dick made a squeeing noise and nuzzled his head into Tim's neck. Tim sighed. "My adopted brother," he amended testily.

Dick laughed, dropped his feet back onto the floor and stood up. He nearly wrung Tim's neck as he tried to hug him around the shoulders. "Awww, don't be like that, Tim. We haven't seen each other in two whole weeks and I needed my Tim-hugs! Gotta meet my cuddle-quota."

Tim shook his head and handed the hot chocolate back over his shoulder. "You're insufferably, insatiably clingy when you're this tired, Dick. Go home and sleep."

Dick finally released him to take the drink. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, sighing in appreciation. "Thanks, Tim, and yeah, but, only if you do the same. You're just as bad as me when you haven't slept, if not worse."

"Can't. Working," Tim answered curtly, vaulting the counter to escape before Dick's grabby hands could reach for him again. His brother wasn't wrong; Tim was always up for a good cuddle after a long stint without proper sleep, but he didn't like public displays of affection.

Dick took one look at the nearly empty coffee shop, the three of them, their game, and then laughed out loud. "Ahhh, the days of getting paid to drink coffee and make up games at 4:30 in the morning. I kind of miss it."

"Would you care to join us," Damian asked abruptly. Dick brightened.

"Absolutely!"

And so that was how the four of them ended up bowling for empty coffee cups with rice crispy treats the size of spaghetti squash while blasting ABBA’s greatest hits--Dick's terrible, wonderful idea--until the sun rose and their shift ended, at eight AM.

By the time the four of them walked out the door, Dick was trying to convince Damian to join him in the aerials gym before breakfast, and Damian, clearly eager to do anything with the handsome college senior, accepted readily. Jason and Tim, on the other hand, were back to discussing literature over coffee--now focused on the merits and downfalls of contemporary science fiction and fantasy as an art form--and making their way to the East Campus Dining Hall, so they could continue their discussion over breakfast.

Tim snorted softly as he listened to Jason list all the ways Dune defined an era of sci-fi/fantasy, then smiled at the way Jason took his hand--without seeming to realize it--to pull him forward after the crosswalk light changed out of Tim's line of sight. Oh, yeah, this one was totally gay/bi/pan and he was definitely asking him out the minute he saw the opportunity, Tim decided.

He smiled. Who would of thought he'd come out of last night's graveyard shift not only having seen his demon coworker and his older brother hit it off--of all things!--but having met someone for himself too! He laughed, thinking, you never know what crazy things you might see, or the people you might meet, at the campus coffee shop at 4 o' clock in the morning!

#my writing #christmasriverswrites #jaytim #dickdami #tim and damian #pre-relationship #college au #no capes #new for 2020! #barely edited; life is rough right now 🙃

[certifiedskywalker]

Sweet Rest - Diego Hargreeves

Anonymous said: Could you write something with Diego and a NB reader? I’m kinda ✨ projecting ✨ Maybe like idk, reader is studying history at uni and just domestic fluff? In the theme of projecting please could NB have a completely shaved head and loads of facial piercings? Please? 💛

AN: I didn’t want to get too specific, as not to exclude too many readers, but I hope I managed to capture the fluff you desired!

This also serves as a PSA to my fellow students: TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES! I’ve been attending my courses online and I forget to get up to move around get water. Grades are not the ‘end-all be-all’ as my mother has said. Your health, mental, emotional, and physical, comes first.

So, be kind to yourself and remember to take breaks! Read some fanfiction! Have a snack! Do what you have to do!

You had been hunched over your desk for hours now. Bleary eyed and tired, you glanced at the clock and cringed. When you started to study, it had been light outside. It was the first sunny day in ages and you were stuck inside with school work. Now, you could see the soft oranges of the sunset turning a murky grey-green. With a groan, you leaned down and laid your head on your desk, using your arms as a makeshift pillow. 

The moment you closed your eyes, your body seemed to melt with relief. A pounding in your head, a headache you did not notice before you relaxed on the desk, ceased. Gently, you rolled your shoulders and neck to find that the joints were stiff from lack of movement. You shoved have taken a moment to stretch. Even a little walk around your room to get your blood flowing. 

Hindsight is a blessing and a curse; you would stretch next time.

At the thought of doing more work tomorrow, you felt your body tense up once more. Stinging behind your eyes were tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. In an attempt to quell them, you forced yourself to take a deep, slow breath. After a set of five breaths, you were beginning to feel your body unwind again. 

Sadly, before you could totally relax, the loud slamming of a door broke your concentration. Slightly frightened by the sound, you swiftly lifted your head up to see what, or who, had entered your room.

“You’re still at it?”

Your eyes softened at the sight of Diego standing in the doorway. His dark eyes were squinted as his brow furrowed in concern. You merely nodded in response. 

The quiet reply was enough for Diego to drop the overnight bag he always brought to your place beside the door. Within seconds, he had strode over to you with reaching hands. When his fingers found your shoulders and began to rub them, you had to fight to hold in a moan.

“Maybe it’s time for a break,” he suggested as he dug his thumbs into the sore muscles of your upper back. You leaned into his touch, tender yet rough.

“Maybe,” you agreed. Diego continued to work the ache from your bones. Under his touch, all your stresses seemed so far away. Though, the moment his hands left your body, it all came rushing back. The mental check list of everything you needed to do before the end of the week rolled through your head. “But I have history assignments yet to do.”

“Y/N,”  Diego pressed, turning your chair so that you were no longer facing your desk but him. “Please, it’s getting late and I can tell you’re tired.”

“The course work-”

“Can wait. Come to bed with me.”

Warm, curving with his breath, Diego’s words sent your heart aflutter. Before you could even try to protest or deny his invitation, Diego pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck. The instant his lips made contact with your flesh, you knew you would completely surrender to him. When he pulled away, you turned to meet his gaze. Diego gave you a sly, and knowing, half-smile.

“The work will be here tomorrow.”

You wanted to point out that the due dates would too; the ever looming shadow until the end of the semester. Yet, Diego, who knew all your weak spots, knew how to pull your worry away. He pressed another kiss to your neck, then another, and another. He tilted your head with a careful hand and, smiling lazily, he kissed your lips. 

“Fine.”

You felt Diego pull away but you kept your eyes closed. “Now, that’s what I like to hear: pure, loving reluctance.”

A small laugh escaped you and you opened your eyes. Diego was smiling down at you. He smiled still as he pecked your cheek and pulled away. Strong hands rubbed at your shoulders before you watched Diego walk towards your bed. Unceremoniously, he threw himself on the mattress. From the impact, Diego bounced slightly and his head fell against the pillow.

“You’re not one for cuddling,” you said, letting your chin rest against the back of your chair. You would get up to lay with Diego soon; for now, you just wanted to look at him. Laying in your bed, limbs stretched out and waiting for you to join him. His dark eyes were slightly hooded and his lips were parted in a lazy smile. How sweet he looked; how sweet his was.

“When my partner looks so tired, it’s hard to not want to.” Diego raised an arm and gestured to the empty side of the bed. “Join me.”

Limbs heavy from sitting all day, you nearly trembled as you stood up. With every step you took away from your desk, you felt your shoulder grow lighter. It was as if you were trudging through cold, overwhelming waves to reach the beach, the sand that was glowing with warmth. When you reached the edge of your bed, Diego did not hesitate to reach up and pull you to him.

You fell by his side, curling into the warmth emanating from his body. Diego was always warm. He joked about how it was because he lived and worked in the gym. There was no avoiding the heat of muscles moving. When he wasn’t cleaning or helping out customers, he was working out too. It showed in his arms, lean but strong as they encircled you.

“You work too hard.” 

You moved your head to rest on Diego’s chest, far enough away so that you could still look into his eyes. Giving him an incredulous look, you fired back, “says the night-time vigilante.”

“That’s my free time, I choose to do that,” Diego countered. You laughed and shook your head against him. When you looked back up at him, you saw that Diego was already staring at you with pure adoration in his dark eyes.

For a moment, you felt self-conscious but there was no way you could hide with your arms wedged so snugly around Diego. Also, a part of you did not want to hide. Diego had seen you through good days and bad days. Those long nights where you doubted yourself, your identity, or where you were overcome with intense dysphoria. It was Diego that helped you cut your hair short, walked you to appointments, and, like tonight, made sure you took breaks. 

You knew he loved you, and you loved him, but there were minutes, fleeting seconds, when you felt like you were his responsibility. As if he felt obligated to be with you because he had come this far. The thought always struck your chest, your heart, terribly hard. What would he rather be doing with the time he spent with you? You dared to ask him. 

“Then what do you call this time?” As you asked, you gestured to your tangled bodies splayed out across your bed. Diego took a moment, drinking in the softness of your face. From the worry lines that formed in his features, you knew that he could tell your thoughts were racing.

“I call this,” he grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, “my favorite time. There’s no place I would rather be than right here, with you.”

A small, embarrassed smile spread along your lips as Diego kissed your knuckles. He met your gaze as he did and you shook your head. No matter what your worries made you think or feel, Diego always put your mind and heart at ease. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he pulled you closer into his side so that your head was firmly rested against his chest. 

His other arm, tucked under your neck, wrapped around you. Comfortable warmth surrounded you and you never wanted to leave. You closed your eyes as Diego’s hand rubbed up and down your back. Even through your sweater, you could feel the slight heat of his palm. The warmth trailed after his hand as he rubbed your scalp.

“Want a hair cut soon?”

“Mm, maybe.” You had been so caught up in university, you barely had a chance to look in the mirror. There was, in a sense, no time to reflection; on anything, really.

“Let me know,” he said softly, “you know I like to help.” A laugh rumbled in your chest and you opened your eyes to met Diego’s gaze.

“You just like holding the scissors.”

“That’s not true. I like the clippers too.”

“Any sharp object really,” you joked. Diego squeezed your side and tickled you.

 You jerked in his arms in an attempt to pull away. Laughing made your escape difficult and, taking advantage of your weakened state, Diego moved over you. With his heads, on either side of your head, Diego was positioned above you, caging you beneath his body. You beamed up at him, reaching your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck. Lightly, you scratched the back of his head, feeling the short hair at the nape. Diego looked down at you with such longing that you thought he wasn’t real. Maybe you were just imagining him here, above you, smiling softly at you. 

Then, Diego leaned down and captured your lips with his. It was deep, messy, but perfectly real; just like you and Diego. When he pulled away, he did so slowly so he could still savor the feeling that lingered. You smiled up at him, bringing one of you heads to the side of his face. Diego opened his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“Thank you.”

Diego cocked his head at your words. “For what?”

“Everything,” you replied. “For making me take a break, for being here.”

“Like I said: there’s no where I would rather be.” Without missing a beat, Diego leaned down and kissed you again. When your eyes closed, you saw every night of your future. In the evenings, like this one, it was just you and Diego. No worries, no stress, just sweet rest.

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves imagines #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves fanfic #diego hargreeves fanfiction #tua #tua imagine #tua imagines #tua fanfic #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy fanfiction #academia #diego hargreeves x nonbinary reader #nb!reader #nonbinary!reader

[bangtanloverboys]

“There’s something tragic about you” // jhs

summary - after your usual model cancels on you for your art project, your best friend comes to the rescue.

pairing - jung hoseok x gender neutral!art student!reader

genre - fluff (read warnings tho)

word count - 1.7k

warning - nudity, like 1 swear word, kissing, the classic titantic reference

author’s note - this was a sentence starter from this prompt list and it was sent in by @mlkydrms​ not sure if you wanted angst but this is what came out of it. hope you like it!

If you told yourself this morning that your best friend was going to be modeling for one of your art projects, you wouldn’t have believed it. Why? Because your final had to include a nude model and no way was Jung Hoseok going to be nude in front of you. 

Yet here you were, 4 pm in the afternoon in your living room waiting for Hoseok to exit the bathroom.

Originally, you were supposed to have Jin be your model. He has been your model partner for a few projects now, he was just effortless to draw, especially his details. Unfortunately, he got the stomach flu and needed to stay home to recuperate. You were no stranger when it came to cancellations and rain checks when working with models, however the project was due in the next three days. You stupidly put aside all your project to try and focus on your other courses, as did Seokjin. But now there was not enough time for you to fully pull together a full piece with Jin being sick. 

This had led to you slowly freaking out, before you reached full blown panic mode, you called Hoseok. While he wasn’t always the best with words, he was a great listener and even the smallest thing from him made you smile. As you told him your predicament, the line went silent for a few moments. 

“What if. . . I was your model?”

“Excuse me what?” You were stunned at his suggestion. “Hobi. . . it’s a nude painting I need to work on-”

“I know.” He stated, how he was speaking so calmly about this blew your mind. “Your project is due soon, and you need a model. I’m more than happy to help, unless you don’t want me to?”

You bit your lip in thought. He was right, you needed a model and needed one now. You could ask one of your other friends, but here was your best friend offering himself up on a silver plate. Letting out a sigh, you agreed. Hoseok said he’d be over in a bit so that gave you plenty of time to set up and prepare yourself to see. . .all of him. 

Soon as he arrived though, there was this sort of air of awkwardness. You instructed him to go into the bathroom to strip and there was a towel for him to cover himself. He nodded and quickly excused himself. You could see it in the tips of his ears that he was just as nervous as you were about this, seeing him naked was one thing you really weren’t sure about. Because as cliche as it is, you held feelings for him. You already held back on your feelings in fear of it hurting your friendship, but how would seeing him naked impact your friendship.

The clearing of a throat pulled you from your thoughts, you turned your head to see Hoseok standing there, his golden chest revealed to the world and a white towel held tightly around his waist. You resisted the urge to drool as he shuffled into the living room to where you set up the makeshift studio. 

“Uhh where do you want me?” 

You quickly looked between him and the set up. “Sit on the box, back facing me.” You watched as he quickly discarded the towel around his waist and followed your instruction. “Bend your left leg, tuck your right underneath it. Right arm goes to the back and drape your left arm over your bent leg.” Hoseok assumed the pose but he still looked a bit stiff. “Hobi, you can back out if you want to. . .”

“I’m fine!” His voice squeaked. “I mean, I’m fine just. . .new experiences, right?”

You gave him a light smile and nodded. “For the both of us. Now relax your shoulders, you look like you’re being held at gunpoint.” That surely got a kick out of him, his shoulders bounced as he chuckled. “Stop moving!”

“Alright, alright.” He rolled his eyes at you. You could feel his stare as you walked over to your seat and picked up your canvas and charcoal. “You gonna draw me like one of your French girls?”

“Oh my god, how long have you been holding that in?” You rolled your eyes at the cheesy predictable joke. Hoseok just laughed at your reaction, you narrowed your eyes at him and held up the charcoal threateningly. “Sit still and don’t smile!”

Then you got to work, you eyed him carefully before making any strict movement on the canvas. With him being a dance major, it was no surprise to you that he was fit, but you never really did appreciate Hoseok muscle build before now; you were glad you were finally given the excuse. He wasn’t built too big, but there was a softness around each and every edge of him. 

The two of you just sat in comfortable silence, the only sound being of your sketching. You started to feel his eyes on you as you were working on his torso. “Eyes off me, Hoseok.”

“So you get to eye me up while I have to look at the wall? How cruel,” he tsked, but he followed your order and looked back away. “You just look cute when your concentrating.” 

You nearly snap your charcoal pencil in half. “C-come again?”

“You do this really cute thing where you stick your tongue out and scrunch your nose whenever you’re trying to work.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. You could feel your face flush at his words. “You’re even cuter when you blush.”

“Where is this coming from, exactly?” You ask, trying your best to continue the piece and not fuck it up. 

“I dunno, the fact I’m not wearing pants at the moment has strangely given me the nerve to flirt with you.” He looked at you from the side of his eyes and raised his eyebrows at you.

“And on that note, I’d like to ask if we could put this conversation on hold until you have your pants back on.” He nodded and the silence resumed. 

The torso and arms finished, all you had left was his head. You squint your eyes as you try to find and take in every last detail of his face. The curve of his nose to the sharpness of his jawline to each loose strand of his dark locks. Hoseok really was a man to behold. While you didn’t have a good angle on his eyes, you focused really hard on them, trying to capture him completely. 

“Aand, done.” You said, signing off the piece and dating it at the bottom. With the word, he relaxed his arms and let out a sigh. You watched as he leaned over to grab his towel to once again, cover his modesty. He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders back. “Sore?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how Jin-hyung does it.” He groaned, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and ease the ache.

“Yoga, and a long hot shower afterwards.” You say honestly. “He used to take them at my place but after the amount of projects, my water bill was going up so I had to kick him out.”

“Honestly, that doesn’t sound half bad right now.” He noted.

“What? The long hot shower or me kicking you out?” You laugh at his strange statement. 

“The hot shower,” he snarkily replied. “Can I see it?”

“Oh yeah sure,” canvas in hand, you take a few steps over to where Hoseok sat and hold out the canvas for him to see. He let out a silent ‘wow’ as he dragged his eyes over the drawing, drinking each and every detail. When his eyes came back up to his face, he had a puzzled look on his face. 

“Can I ask something?” 

“Why is something wrong?” You quickly looked back to the painting and tried to spot the possible mistake you made. 

“No no no, there’s nothing wrong but, I just want to know what you like best about the drawing.” You watched as his cheeks turned a shade of pink.

“Are you asking in general or because it’s you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Both possibly,” he laughed lightly at you. “What is it?”

“Hmm,” you take a good look at the picture. “Your expression. There’s something tragic about you, something beautifully tragic that just sort of draws me in.”

You look back up to him and he’s staring right back at you. “Beautifully tragic?”

“Shut up,” you place the canvas off to the side. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” he moved his head to try and look at you. “I want to know what the artist sees.”

You sigh and take both of your charcoal covered hands and place them on either side of his face. You look over his features, trying to find the words to describe what you mean. “Your eyes. Your eyes look like you’re in love, yet you hold back.” Slowly, Hoseok’s face came closer to yours. “Like you’re scared of what might happen if you. . .”

He was mere centimeters away from you now, his breath was ghosting over your lips. “If I. . . ?” His eyes were still locked with yours.

“If you let yourself love.” You finished; with his face still in your hands, you trace your thumb over his cheek bone. 

Hoseok’s eyes dropped down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Will you let me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. With your permission, he closes the distance between you and presses his lips to yours. Your hands move from his cheeks to his hair, making purchase in his lock. His arms snake around your waist, trying to pull you closer, but due to the awkward angle, it quickly grew uncomfortable and you both pulled away.

“So, are we gonna talk about it now?” Hoseok laughed, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know, are you wearing pants?” You snorted, “I meant what I said, go put pants on and we can have that conversation.”

“I believe you threw out that reasoning when you kissed me,” he retorted, but he complied and sat up, ready to get changed. But the sudden movement caused him to groan, “Second thought, I might need a hot shower.”

“Oh my god, just go!” You laughed at him as he stiffly made his way back to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes as you heard the shower turn on and let out a sigh, maybe it was a good thing you had a nude assignment.

#btsghostie #bts request #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #hobi x reader #jhope x reader #bts x reader #hoseok fanfiction #hobi fanfiction #bts fanfiction #hoseok fluff #hobi fluff #hoseok scenarios #jung hoseok x you #hoseok x you #hobi x you #jhope x you #jung hoseok x y/n #hoseok x y/n #hobi x y/n #jhope x y/n #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #bts university au #dance major hoseok #female reader #bts x gender neutral reader #bts x male reader #jung hoseok x male reader

[notdeadjack]

annual rec list 2020: part 2 electric boogaloo

Part 1, Multi-fandom rec list: 55 fics here

Part 2, Boku no Hero Academia: 223 fics

bc tumblr wouldnt let me link all of it in one post. also, my usual formatting broke when i copy pasted this to a new post and i cannot be arsed to fix it bc there’s just too many aaaaa

again, if the read more breaks and y’all have to scroll through this on your actual dash, i am sincerely sorry orz

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Boku no Hero Academia

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12839862   Can't wait to see you by Mizaaistom   4k, Tamaki/Mirio,

“No light though..?”

Tamaki stiffens and Mirio instantly regrets his words.

“No light though! Sounds hot,” he tries. He also tries a quick peck to Tamaki’s forehead, hoping it communicates his apology and that he is very much ok with getting his first blowjob in the dark.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13625934   Blow Your Mind (Mwah) by MissPlacemat   2k, Kaminari/Kirishima, platonic sex, just dudes being bros,

For the kink meme prompt: Kamikiri, giggly sex

Just some thoroughly platonic and very, very goofy sex between two bros.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115979   a fever you can't sweat out by Chewpid   7k, Kaminari/Kirishima/Bakugou,

Kaminari realizes he likes boys about a lifetime after everyone else does.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/11927796   daydream by pvwork   2k, Tamak/Mirio, first kiss,

Third grade was scary for all of the two hours that he didn’t know Mirio.

After that first meeting, every memory Tamaki had of his childhood was filled with the summer sun, the melt-on-your-tongue sweetness of a shared anpan, the pinprick hurt of straining his limbs to manifest his quirk, Mirio’s megawatt smile, and Mirio’s big braying laugh.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870977   Boy Problems by QuirklessWonder (SouthernSmartAss)   2k, Tamaki/Mirio, pining,

“Are you okay, Kirishima?” Amajiki was asking when Mirio tuned back into the conversation. He picked at his takoyaki, and Mirio could tell he was nervous. Well, Amajiki was always nervous, but right now he seemed to be extra nervous. Was it because of Kirishima being here? He usually didn’t mind the kid.

Speaking of, the kid looked up from where he was picking at his own lunch and he blushed so brilliantly that his face was hard to tell from his hair. It was kind of fascinating.

“I’m fine! Just - thinking,” He said, averting his gaze. Well, it wasn’t difficult for Mirio to tell when someone was being nervous and avoidant at this point. He ate some more of his lunch contemplatively before announcing cheerily -

“Boy problems.” He had been kind of joking - well, more like projecting - since he didn’t even know if Kirishima was attracted to men, but at the sharp, stunned look that the first-year sent him he realized that maybe he had also just started to realize what that looked like now.

“Mirio, what do you mean?” Amajiki asked at the same time that Kirishima asked, ”How did you know?”

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12108360   five times mirio snuck into tamaki's room and one time he didn't by silvercistern   2k, Tamaki/Mirio, 5+1,

Tamaki and Mirio's young life together as a series of breaking and entering.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16201307   This Ain't a Fairy Tale by alpha_hydra   12k, Kirishima/Bakugou,sex pollen, kinda,

“No catch,” the doctor assures, but he hesitates a little before continuing. “However, it’s not your physical condition we have to be worried about. The victims of the quirk-”

“Victims?” Kirishima repeats weakly.

“The fucker’s quirk is called matchmaking,” Bakugou spits out before the doctor can continue. “He makes people infatuated with a person he chooses, and makes them fucking psychotic the longer they’re kept apart from them.”

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193362   like you're running out of time, like you need it to survive by Slumber   4k, Kirishima/Bakugou,

Kirishima ravenous over omurice looks nothing like the any of the pictures in any of the articles of Red Riot's debut. Kirishima is a fifteen-year-old boy with a growing appetite, Red Riot a sturdy hero with already one apprehended criminal under his belt. And Katsuki--

Katsuki is only a boy playing at being a hero. He doesn't even have a fucking code name yet.

Or, Katsuki has a lot of thoughts about Kirishima that don't always fit together. (Takes place from after Kamino to the internship arc/ch 153.)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490769   living on your knees (you rise up) by Slumber   13k, Kirishima/multiple, friends with benefits, casual sex,

It starts with Kaminari.

It starts with Kaminari after their first mission together, the cops and villains long gone and the remnants of the fight nothing more than burnt fabric and deep cuts on their skin, a purpling bruise where tender flesh collided with concrete and metal and hard fists. There's a trembling in Kaminari's fingers and a desperation in his eyes, his knees giving out were it not for Kirishima's hands on his arms, holding his weight and pressing it to the dirty brick wall.

In which post-mission blowjobs become something of a habit. The feelings, an unexpected side effect.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363684   arms by silvercistern   5k, Tamaki/Mirio, awkward first time tentacle sex,

Mirio runs his hands over the comforter where Tamaki’s shoulders and back are, gently petting. “Why don’t we just put on a movie and see what happens? I want to watch The Force Awakens again. Maybe we won’t watch all of it, who knows?”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” Tamaki’s muffled voice filters through the blankets. He’s leaning into Mirio’s touches, and it’s really, really cute.

“Well, I mean, if it was somebody else, I’d probably be embarrassed but it’s real hard to be embarrassed with you.”

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892967   breathless by silvercistern   16k, Tamaki/Mirio, soulmates, angst,

Mirio and Tamaki were caught in each other’s gravity. Inseparable friends, they brought out the best in each other, understood each other like no one else could. Together, they inspired each other to go above and beyond.

But they weren’t soulmates.

And Tamaki seemed to be the only person in the world who cared.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497325   Sun by is_this_a_mistake   2k, Tamaki/Mirio, body insecurities, small penis,

Everyone always laughed when Togata ended up naked, and Tamaki was never sure why.  He knew nakedness was embarrassing… though the idea of people seeing Tamaki himself naked was not much more embarrassing than them seeing him at all.

But Togata… Mirio… was beautiful.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337607   Yesterday Upon The Stair by PitViperOfDoom   424k, gen, canon-AU, BAMF!Midoriya, body horror,

Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it.

But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless.

Not that anyone would believe it if he told them.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/11468634   We Are So (Not) Married by MikeWritesThings (orphan_account)   53k, Aizawa/Yamada, fake/pretend relationship, pining, friends to lovers, ace specturm, implied homophobia,

In which everyone thinks Hizashi and Shouta are married due to an incident and while the nation is struggling to decide if this is a good or bad thing, Hizashi's struggling with the urge to say out loud, "Damn, I wish we were actually married, though."

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22650859   i'm having a secret conversation about you with the tiny stars in the pitch-black sky by crossroadswrite   7k, gen, background relationships, kid fic, fluff, 5+1,  

“Is there anyone else you want us to call?” Ochako asks gently, and Eri chews on her lip and looks down and away. “Do you want me to call Deku?” Ochako pushes, and it’s worth it for the way Eri’s head snaps back up to her, eyes wide with hope, before she looks away again.

“I’ll send him a text!” Mina pipes up, already having her phone out and typing rapidly on it. “He’s just on the other side of the building, Eri-chan,” she waves the phone at her with a wide smile that squints her eyes shut. “All done, he should be here any min-“

The door to the room slams open, making them all jump and jerk their heads towards it. Ochako brings her fists up instinctively, heart hammering in her throat.

“What’s wrong with Eri?” Deku demands, standing in the doorway, green lightning sparking off his skin, eyes shifting around wildly as if looking for a threat, body braced in a battle stance.

(Or: 5 times Eri falls asleep on Izuku + 1 time Izuku falls asleep on her)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16409552   Kids (Are The Future) by the_crownless_queen   5k, gen, background relationships, fluff, dadzawa,

“Say, Shouta, you wouldn’t happen to have a secret son, would you?”

-- or 5 times somebody thought Shinsou was Shouta's son, and one time Hitoshi called him Dad.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/14620713   Running to Stand Still by Kiyoko_Michi   42k, Aizawa/Yamada, de-aging,

Shouta never needed much. He had his dream—getting into the UA Heroes course—and he had Hizashi, who’d carved out his own spot in Shouta’s life. That was enough for him… until he wakes up in a dirty alleyway wearing clothes three sizes too big. Faced with an unreliable memory and a school full of strangers, Shouta struggles to unravel what happened to him.

(a de-aged!Aizawa fic)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12879186   Aizawa Definitely Doesn't Care by teaandtumblr     15k, Aizawa/Yamada, dadzawa, familty issues, fluff,

Aizawa doesn't care about his students. He really, really doesn't.

Except for the part were he very much does.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15046934   journey to the past by aloneintherain   44k, gen, time travel, protective!1A,

Izuku is five years old the first time he's saved by heroes. He's an instant fan of the woman in pink with her cheerful smile and the man with his ice powers and fine-boned features, even if they both refuse to tell him their names.

For most of his life, Izuku has been the centre of villain attacks, but he has never been injured. Every time, he's saved by bright, unknown heroes—heroes who smile at Izuku, and ruffle his hair or ply him with hugs, and seem mesmerised by how small he is.

Heroes that the rest of the world doesn't believe exists.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15189752   Looping Back to the Beginning by Feneris   10k, gen, time loop, crack,

Where Class 1-A finds itself in a time loop centered around their first year at UA. After getting over the usual angst, they decide that the best way to grow as heroes is by antagonizing dangerous villains for fun and amusement.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12558048   could i but teach the hundredth part by terra_incognita   5k, gen, dad!might,

Ito Matsu knows three things about her neighbor, Mr. Yagi: he's very skinny, he's very kind, and he has enough children to overthrow the Japanese government.

Or:

All Might is retired, but his former students keep coming up with reasons to visit.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400303   little are the things we learn by newamsterdam   10k, Kirishima/Bakugou, 5+1, h/c,

Almost half an hour has passed, and Kirishima and Bakugou still haven’t come back. Bakugou may be fine running on fumes, and could probably blast his way through the second part of the exam on pure willpower and stubbornness. But Kirishima should probably eat, and relax for at least a bit.

Kaminari is such a good friend. He hopes Kirishima appreciates him properly. He gets to his feet and wanders out into the hall, looking for a glimpse of Bakugou or Kirishima.

He sees— well. It’s more than a glimpse. And at first, Kaminari doesn’t quite believe it.

Five people who are let in on Yuuei's worst-kept secret, and one person who always knew it.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226225   How Can You Smile With So Many Scars by Quirkyasfok   4k, Bakugou&Midoriya, scars, angst, power of words,

After taking on a villain who's quirk involves making the words that have hurt someone the most appear on the their skin Katsuki begins to learn the true power of how much effect words can have on someone.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907110   Pick Me Up by ill go with that then (Linelenagain)   5k, Aizawa/Yamada, 5+1, friends to lovers,

“You’ll never make it. You’ll drop me before we get halfway there.”

“Bet you I won’t,” Yamada says. The look in his eye is bright and dangerous. It makes Shouta want to agree to things he shouldn’t.

“Bet me what?” he answers, against his better judgement.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13361256   cotton candy hands by chonideno   26k, Kirishima/Bakugou, mutual pining, touch-starved,

Studying to become a hero requires knowing how to take care of yourself. Sometimes you might need help on the way so if your crush offers to do your hair for you or to give you a well-deserved back rub, it'd be stupid to say no.

A series of soft vignettes in which a love-struck Kirishima and a touch-starved Bakugou care for each other and it's definitely not making their hearts jump through hoops, they’re never this close to kissing, no, they're totally best friends bro

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13668393   Surprises by MikeWritesThings   21k, gen, dadzawa, 5+1,

Moving into the dorms, the students get to witness a side of their teacher they didn’t even know had existed--a side much softer, and, dare they say, human, than any of them had ever expected to see.

(Or, 5 things class 1-A never expected from Aizawa, and 1 thing he never expected from them.)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17905568   On Secret Relationships And The Importance Of Representation Among Pro Heroes by smol_bird   3k, Aizawa/Yamada, dadzawa,

“I guess,” Midoriya sighs. “But then – some of the pro heroes are our teachers, you know? And still, it’s not like any of them are... I mean, it’s certainly not a common occurrence for a hero to be... out.”

Out? Aizawa thinks. He begins to suspect that he knows what this conversation is about.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405767   says the moon by chonideno   5k, Kirishima/Bakugou, rule 63, pining,

bakugou has read all the books, watched all the movies, heard all the stories, seeked out all possible advice, and none of it has ever made looking at kirishima easier. by the time they reach their third year at UA, bakugou might as well be begging for relief

or how girl loves girl

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17886320   The Best Medicine by chezka   13k, Kirishima/Bakugou,

He couldn't stop thinking about it.

The sound of it, breathy and wild, and the sight that accompanied it, warm and relaxed - Kirishima couldn't get it out of his head. It was stuck at the forefront of his mind, whenever he closed his eyes or let his thoughts wander, capturing him, cutting off his breaths.

He wanted to see it again.

Or, Kirishima sees Bakugou laughing, and his world shakes with it.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563575   The Beauty of a Beast by starofjems   101k, Kirishima/Bakugou, AU, curses,

Once upon a time a lonely beast lived in a manor deep in the forest. He dreamed of the day his true love appeared to break his curse... When a beauty finally appears in his life, it is not quite as he imagined. For who could have thought a beauty would be more of a beast.

Or

The beauty and the beast AU nobody asked for but here it is.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267141   Bright as the Sun by starofjems   7k, Kaminari/Kirishima, AU,

For years Kaminari has kept his crush on one of his best friends hidden. It was never the right time, never the right place. They were all too busy trying to make their dreams come true, too busy becoming one of the best pod racer teams in the universe. But now that their dreams are finally becoming reality, it's hard to ignore Ashido's pestering to confess to Kirishima finally. Is it too much to wish for two dreams to come true?  

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20729933   Schrödinger's cat by AyzuLK   31k, Midoriya/Todoroki, PTSD, non-con, amnesia,

The cat is in the closed box, with a 50% chance of being alive and a 50% chance of being dead. According to the principle of uncertainty in quantum physics, he is alive and dead until someone opens the box. Izuku doesn't want to open the box. OR Izuku didn’t return home after school. Two months later he was found roaming a deserted road with white hair, psychogenic amnesia and a quirk out of control. Nothing is the same after that.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245922   Heartbeat Thunder by Shippeh   95k, Kirishima/Bakugou, A/B/O, knotting, heat,

Kirishima tries not to remember his first rut, and he's taking care to ensure it never happens again.

In which: Kirishima is an extremely aggressive Alpha by nature but insists on suppressing everything, and Bakugou is an Omega wildly confident in his secondary gender.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15980336   hold on tight by lunalou   33k, gen, h/c, touch-starved, 5+1,

"What are you doing?" Shouto asks.

"Hugging you." Midoriya returns in a patient voice. His arms tighten around Shouto's waist and he presses his forehead more firmly against his back. "You know it's a hug, Shouto-kun. Don't play dumb."

or, five times somebody from 1-a hugs todoroki and the one time he hugs them first

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498050   First Time For Everything by kazzarole   4k, Midoriya/Todoroki, pining,

Midoriya is the catalyst of many of the 'firsts' in Shouto's life--it just makes sense that Shouto should share his first kiss with him, too.  

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500860   Head vs. Heart by Ms_Chunks   10k, Midoriya/Todoroki,

Todoroki Shouto had never known anyone quite like Midoriya Izuku. The strength of Midoriya’s quirk paled in comparison to the power of his heart. And it, more than any superhuman power, was what defined him.

Midoriya didn’t think before he acted, he felt. Shouto had a lot to learn about that.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289734   Kiss Me Through The Screen by Ischemia   70k, Shinsou/Kaminari, AU, cam-boy,

Shinsou remembers when he first saw the ad for Ch4rgeb0lt’s services. He was just messing around online when a pop-up appeared with his smiling face, one eye winking and the other brightly flashing with happiness.

“Lonely? Tired of coming home to an empty apartment? Can’t find anyone to listen to your problems? Say no more! For the low cost of $10 per stream, you can have all the company and love you ever wanted. Get a best friend for the best price!”

His first reaction was, “what kind of depressing loser needs to buy a boyfriend?” before he looked around at his empty home and realized he might be that depressing loser.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227647   nothing has changed me quite like you by akhikosanada   10k, Midoriya/Todoroki, friends to lovers,

"Touching someone for the first time, Shouto found out, did not draw electricity or any other romanticized chemical reaction described in books and movies. It did, however, make his chest tighten harder than it ever had before, and as he drew the shape of lightning over Midoriya’s skin, his lips parted on an almost inaudible sigh. Midoriya’s breath caught in his throat, and Shouto wanted to catch it in his own mouth."

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925678   Pickup Lines for the Soul by MustardSoup   3k, Shinsou/Kaminari, soulmates,

Denki is twelve when he is flicking through the TV channels and lands on an old RomCom movie about soulmate marks – specifically the same type that he has.

“I can’t believe I’ve had to walk around with a cheap pickup line written on my ankle my entire life because of you!” The leading lady yells at the leading man as he stares at her in awe.

Denki laughs.

“Oh no.” His mother says, watching him.

“Oh no, indeed.” His sister repeats quietly.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17843384   Hand to Heart (Right to Left) by Half_SubmergedinPurgatory   13k, Midoriya/Todoroki,

Shouto indulges Midoriya's curiousity about how his Quirk works. Just like everything he does with Midoriya, Quirk study sessions quickly become life-changing.

In other words: Shouto learns how to spite his dad, scare his friends, and how teenagers are supposed to act when they're in love.  

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433601   Conventional Taste by WowBoring     44k, Midoriya/Todoroki, pining,

He didn’t think it would matter if Midoriya were taking him to a sewer convention; it was probably still going to be the highlight of his Golden Week.

In order to avoid a visit from his unpleasant grandparents Todoroki attends a hero convention with Midoriya, and learns a few things along the way.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/21649615   no rest for the wicked by crossroadswrite   3k, gen,

“I’ll destroy a man for you,” he says breathlessly.

Todoroki looks vaguely amused. “Good to know.”

Midoriya passes the mug to Momo’s hands and then reaches up to put his hands on Todoroki’s cheeks so he can bring him down to eye-level.

“No, listen. I will destroy a man for you.”

Todoroki blinks at him, looking a little startled.

“I have a seven year plan,” Midoriya elaborates terrifyingly.

“O-kay?” he says throught his smushed cheeks.

“Fuck Endeavor,” Midoriya says empathically.

(Or: Midoriya has absolutely no filter when he's sleep deprived. That's it. That's the fic.)

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21245684   Rutting For You by FoolishFortuna   12k, Kirishima/Bakugou, A/B/O, rough sex, alpha/alpha,

Kirishima’s scent washed over him as the redhead moved to slide into bed and Katsuki found his mouth watering. For fuck sake, why was his body being such an asshole all of a sudden? He swallowed.

“Uh, Bakugou?” Eijirou's voice was quiet, almost rough, “You're putting out a pretty strong scent.” There was a tone to his best friend's voice that he'd never heard before, and it sent a shiver through Katsuki as he fisted the duvet in his hand tighter and ground his teeth.

His gums ached.

“Its nothing, shut up.” He focused on getting his pheromones under control quickly. Fuck, he really wanted to bite something. Something that smelled like Eijirou. He swallowed another mouthful of saliva.

“Do you-” Kiri swallowed as well, “d’you wanna just sleep up here?”

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176183   Impressionable by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion   5k, gen,

Aizawa spits out a mouthful of hair and says, “Give me coffee, and fuck off.”

There’s a tiny gasp from the doorway. Tensei is fast as a whip when he turns and stares, wide-eyed, at the very small figure of his younger brother outlined by the hallway light. He’s got pyjamas on, fancy silk things, and he’s holding, of all things, a clipboard. Aizawa squints. He’s pretty sure the kid isn’t even ten yet, although he can’t be sure, because the Iida’s seem naturally gangly, and he’s never been very good with kids. How do you measure them? They don't seem to come with a scale.

“You shouldn’t be saying words like that,” Iida says very sternly. “I’m impressionable.”

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23039944   From Fire and Ashes, Flourishing by Milligramme   21k, Kirishima/Bakugou, AU,

It was starting to be insanely hot, Eijirou tripped so often that he was almost walking on all four at this point, his hands were all scratched from the rocks, his clothes dusty and in disarray, and to make things worse, the volcano was mocking him with an uneven slope that made him think the summit was close only to reveal another one further up.

-

Kirishima's peaceful life on his volcanic island is put to an end when the dormant Mount Bakugou comes back to life, each eruption getting closer to the village and the crops. As panic starts to spread, people remember the old god of the volcano and the ancient tradition to offer him a sacrifice.

Kirishima doesn't buy any of this, but the older villagers seem serious. So before they kill someone in the name of a god that might not even exist, he decides to climb the volcano himself, hoping to find out what causes the eruptions.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/23056354   The Anger Translators by naggeluide   5k, Todoroki/Bakugou, quirk accident,

Todoroki considered, then sighed. "Do you think we'll ever be able to do this on our own?"

"Do what, express anger normally in a healthy-ass manner or some shit that's not either super repressed or extremely violent?" Bakugou glowered at him, arms crossed.

"Yes."

"No."

---

In which Bakugou becomes Todoroki's anger translator and vice versa

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167295     Tiny Truths by Quirk Archivist (OneHitWondersAnonymous)   4k, Kirishima/Bakugou, de-aging, quirk accident, fluff, pining,

“The wedding,” Bakugou repeats, though it sounds like he’s annoyed. “Everybody knows you get married when you make a hero agency, stupid. Why else would you get married?”

-

Bakugou gets hit with a de-aging quirk which shrinks him down to a four year old. Class 1A panics, but Kirishima steps up to the plate to help his best friend (and secret crush) feel safe in a scary situation. Rated T only for language; this is pure fluff through and through!

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https://archiveofourown.org/series/811476   F is for fire that burns down the whole town series by pepperfield   53k, gen, background relationships, shenanigans, quirk accidents,

“Karaoke, Kacchan.” Deku slams his palms on the table, fire in his eyes. “I need a rematch.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

With his boyfriend out of town and the crime rate up, Bakugou hasn't been having a great week. Deku does his best to make things worse.

(Friendship sure is beautiful.)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/20067997   Some Have Greatness Thrust Upon Them by AisforAmy71   230k, canon-divergence, injuries, character death, PTSD,

An AU what-if that explores what would happen if All Might lost his first big confrontation with All for One. When All Might is fatally injured after his battle with All For One, nine year old Midoriya Izuku forcibly receives One For All, unbeknownst to anyone...not even Izuku. It will be up to Inko and Gran Torino and as many favors as they can pull in to keep the boy safe from his new quirk until he can learn to use it, or until a suitable vessel can be found. With the Symbol of Peace out of the picture, the world just became a much more confusing place for everyone.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192880   A New Starting Line by AisforAmy71   13k, gen, bullying, soul-searching,

This is kind of a What If? piece from Bakugo’s POV, where Izuku apparently takes Kacchan’s advice and jumps off the roof of the school. Things aren’t always what they seem, and Bakugo has some soul searching to do when he learns the truth.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310007   manly man falls for manliest man by afuzzyowl   109k, Kirishima/Bakugou, AU, celebrities, pining,

Kirishima brings up Bakugou one day as he and Kaminari are eating together in the campus cafeteria. Super casual, like yeah-I-saw-this-guy-on-TV-once, and not I’ve-watched-literally-every-single-interview-he’s-ever-even-been-in-the-background-of-and-wouldn’t-mind-having-his-babies.

“Oh, him,” Kaminari says. “Eh, he’s popular lately, I guess. Don’t see what all the hype's about.”

Kirishima feels lightheaded. “You—you don’t see the hype—” he splutters. “He’s incredible, dude.”

Kaminari just eyes him.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349770   Not Waving But Drowning by sandelf   38k, Kirishima/Bakugou, child abuse, child neglect, found family,

"This is for the best." "I know." "It is. I promise. It'll all be okay now. Everything will be okay now."

~

When class 1-a move into the dormitories, Bakugou has a horrifying realisation about his home life, forcing the self-proclaimed Bakusquad to band together to prove that he has everything he needs in that packed, happy, loud building.

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https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609612   the bomb squad series by rae_tnub     28k, gen,

Class 1A is their own personal bomb squad, or moments 1A shares with Bakugou.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766268   president of the krbk club by hiuythn   10k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining,

Izuku watches, in a disbelieving and horrified sort of fascination, as Kirishima and Bakugou fall in love.

(Seriously? Right in front of his salad?)  

.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632100   every sign of love series by dino by might   25k, gen, platonic soulmates,

The first mark Izuku gets is a slight brush of green across his temple. It’s the soft touch of a mother holding her son for the first time. Inko has one to match, the same shade of green staining the tips of her fingers. Hers is more noticeable; Izuku’s tends to blend into his hairline. He loves it anyways. He has to. It’s the only soulmate mark he has. (Or: how Izuku goes from just green to a rainbow, UA-style.)  

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380874   What Rules Were Made For by Catastra_Fey   10k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining, masturbation,

Bakugou has a problem. Apparently he's had it forever, and despite being his best friend, Kirishima is only just learning about it. The fact that his friend's quirk prevents him from any kind of self satisfaction has Kiri's brain melting down with sympathy and shock. So he does what any friend would do and offers to help him. Right? That's...what any friend would do...

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796851   copper on your tongue by lanestreets   3k, gen, epilepsy, h/c,

I’m really sorry, I’m about to have a seizure, it might be bad, Denki thinks.

“So,” is what he actually says, drawing out the vowel, “is bad.”

“What?’” the redhead hovering over him says, and Denki blacks out.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22857316   can i be undone? by lanestreets   7k, angst, h/c,

“Why can’t I do those things? What’s wrong with them?”

Hawks sighs, and pushes his hair back out of his face. “It’s not that they’re wrong, they’re just different, and that’s wrong. The more you’re different, the more reason people have to distrust you, yeah? And if people distrust you, how can you be a hero? I want you to be safe, and not have to deal with all that scrutiny.”

-

Hawks was really only trying to help Tokoyami. He never meant for it to go so far sideways.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23175157   like light through a window by achievingelysium   1k, gen, whump, dadzawa,

The first time Shouta sees what Hagakure looks like, it’s because she’s covered in blood.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/23192434   Putting Infinity into Words by redrobin1989   8k, gen, platonic soulmates,

Soul Mates have evolved with quirks to become Soul Bonds in which one feels the entire emotional spectrum and a fact about their future relationship. Or so Izuku had heard, he'd only ever two Soul Bonds and they both caused him pain. Until All Might and Yuuei and he finally learned what it was like to have a loving, thriving Bond.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997543   Worth a Thousand Words by awareoftheconcept   43k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining,

When a rare picture of Bakugou smiling leads Class 3A to believe he is in a relationship with Utsushimi Camie, a contest arises to see who can get the most pictures of the couple together. *** “Umm,” Midoriya said nervously. “I-it’s Kacchan. There is always a spark.”

With another round of boos from Kaminari and Jirou, Ashido took a page out of Mineta’s playbook and started shaking Midoriya violently. “I mean like a romantic spark!”

Midoriya blanched. “You think Kacchan is interested in Utsushimi?”

He seemed doubtful, so Ashido shoved Kirishima’s phone in his face. “Do you see this smile? That is the smile of boy who is head-over-heels smitten, am I right?”

Midoriya actually took the time to look at the picture critically, though he shot an uneasy look towards Kirishima before he answered. “Umm, y-yeah,” he said as he started to back away, hiding behind Uraraka like a shield. “It definitely looks like Kacchan is in love.”

How could Kirishima have been so stupid?

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21787960   Bakugou and Todoroki's Foolproof 5-Step Plan to Fuck with Mineta Minoru by Anubis_2701   37k, gen, background relationships, memes,

It was a simple enough idea; screw around with the resident bastard of Class 1-A to let him know that his medieval ways and perverted behaviour weren't going to be tolerated by even the most career-focused of UA's students.

To say that things had snowballed was an understatement.

Todoroki had no idea how he had ended up sitting on Bakugou's floor at 1 am, holding a dossier of incriminating material that would make the FBI slobber, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

The long and short of it was, fuck Mineta.

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https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540663   BNHA Pro-Hero Au series by surveycorpsjean 69k, Midoriya/Todoroki, Midoriya/Todoroki/Kirishima/Bakugou, pining, thirst, polyamory,

It's been four years since Izuku took an overseas villain case.

Now twenty-six, Izuku is one hundred percent, without a doubt, completely and utterly over his crush on Shouto. No problems, smooth sailing, Izuku is a new man ready to start the next chapter of his life.

Haha...right?

-

(RN: i had to go lie down after reading this)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/20492264   Liquid Nitrogen by surveycorpsjean   23k, Hawks/Endeavor, age difference, size difference, enemies to friends to lovers,

Enji can't figure out why the hell Hawks keeps sleeping in his office.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12025527   quote love unquote by newamsterdam   135k, Kirishima/Bakugou, AU, celebrities, fake relationship, pining, slow burn,

Sero nods. “It’s the chance of a lifetime, really,” he says. “We want you to date Bakugou, for the sake of his reputation with the press. Some public appearances, a few ‘candid’ photos. For at least a couple of months.”

“Bakugou sent you to ask me to date him?” Kirishima asks, baffled.

“Of course not. We, his people, are asking you to date him. He’s going to have to get on board, if he wants his career to survive. And in the bargain, Riot will get all sorts of publicity, because their lyricist will be dating one of the industry’s hottest stars. A win for everyone.”

-

When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/11382708   Up the Wall by surveycorpsjean   8k, Midoriya/Todoroki, pining,

He was told love makes you weak.

Well, Todoroki would like to disagree.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18052598   Thanks for Saving Me by Esselle   46k, Midoriya/Todoroki, AU, age difference, celebrities,

"You saved my life," Todoroki says.

Izuku freezes. Then he looks up. Todoroki Shouto is staring at him, his eyes calm but wide, dust and soot all over his face. His perfect, handsome face. He's more beautiful in person than Izuku could have imagined.

"You just saved all of us," Todoroki says again. "What's your name?"

"M-Midoriya," Izuku chokes out. "Midoriya Izuku."

Todoroki nods. "Midoriya. Thank you."

--

Midoriya Izuku is a university sophomore, a fanboy, quirkless. On the list of things he is not: a hero.

That's why he's more surprised than anyone when he rescues Todoroki Shouto, his favorite pro hero, from a deadly villain attack. His actions fling him into the media spotlight, grabbing the attention of the entire country, including Todoroki himself. But Todoroki actually wants to get to know him past the headlines.

Izuku finds himself living a story straight out of a fairy tale, one where the mysterious, handsome prince is played by the real-life superhero he has always admired. But Izuku is convinced he's the ugly duckling, not the swan; could he ever be remarkable enough to get his happily ever after?

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651684   The Hot One by Esselle   1k, pre-Bakugou/Kaminari/Kirishima, fluff, accidental flirting,

"Oy," Katsuki warns. They ignore him.

"He's like," Denki continues, posing with his arms flexed, "grrrr, he's like a beast."

"Well, yeah," Eijirou agrees, "everyone knows he's super manly, but I don't know if that means he can't be pretty, too."

"Oy, idiots."

--

Even though they're complete opposites, both of Eijirou's best friends are really, really cute.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902942   Biting the Bullet by orphan_account   4k, Uraraka/Bakugou, sexual tension,

In which a training exercise brings a whole other meaning to fighting dirty.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831519   I'm Making You Sweat by karmaticinstitution   4k, Uraraka/Bakugou, sparring, femdom,

He wants to touch, touch, touch— but she stops him short of anything else.

“Katsuki, I’m going to fucking tear you apart,” and he changes his mind, this is definitely the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Nothing can beat it, and he’s instantly swelling in his shorts. He runs his eyes over her, and he thinks she could probably do whatever she wanted and he’d go along without any qualms.

-

Bakugou is weak for thick thighs and Uraraka is a queen.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761845   There's Something About Bakugou by ohmytheon   19k, Uraraka/Kirishima/Bakugou, ust, quirk accidents,pining, dirty talk,

After Bakugou is hit by a villain's unknown quirk that produces some strange side effects, both Uraraka and Kirishima have a very interesting day trying to help him.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24254872   sparks fly (and not the flammable kind) by laurenshappenstobemyhusband   7k, Jirou/Shinsou/Kaminari, fluff,

He's cute, Jirou realizes with a bit of a start. Sure, he's about to set fire to the TV, but it's cute. When did that happen?

Shinsou elbows her in the side, and she turns to see he's looking at Kaminari too, with the same fond smile.

"I'm gonna date that," he whispers, not looking at her, but his smile curls at the edges. Like a cat.

"Oh yeah?" she says, suddenly on the defensive. "Not if I date that first." No challenge was named, but she'll damn well win it.

OR: Jirou and Shinsou both try to win Kaminari over, and Kaminari painfully likes both of them.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25055935   catch you when you fall by pixiegold   3k, Kirishima/Bakugou, truth spells, pining,

“I accidentally used my quirk on him, he’s gonna be super honest for like three hours now, and I haven’t worked out how to stop it early yet! I’m so useless, I’m sorry!” She blurts out, and Kirishima blinks at her for a second, before looking at Bakugou. The boy stood next to her rolls his eyes and starts walking over to the nearest teacher like he’s done this a hundred times before.

"Three hours?" Kirishima mutters.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061890   Voices by SquirrelWriter   11k, gen, dadzawa,

Hitoshi has a thing about voices.

Part of it's because of his Quirk, probably. He's always listening for that reply. It's the opening, the chink in a person's armor that lets his own voice slip in and hijack their brain. But part of it is that most people are wary around him, so when someone does talk, particularly to him, it stands out.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17221628   rock'n'roll, buckaroo! by Origamidragons   6k, gen, social media,

Kaminari walks up to Todoroki in the hallway after class and says, “Dude, I need your help.”

Todoroki checks over his shoulder, twice, to verify that Kaminari is indeed talking to him. “Why?”

“Yesterday you asked Shinsou-kun if he was Aizawa-sensei’s son,” Kaminari says, as though that explains anything at all.

“...yes?”

“Make a hero conspiracy YouTube channel with me.”

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751861   slow down, start dancing by blessings   4k, Yaoyorozu/Jirou, mutual pining,

“We’re dead” is the first thing Momo says to her when she opens the door, and it’s somehow more beautiful than any lyric from Kyouka’s favorite song.

“Yeah, like, on the inside and stuff,” she replies.

Yaoyorozu Momo and Jirou Kyouka have to define what courage means to them or risk failing All Might’s class. Forgetting about their project until 10 hours before it’s due feels like the right answer.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17204222   Kaminari's Declassified Coming Out Survival Guide by MustardSoup   3k, Kaminari/Shinsou, coming out,

Local disaster bi, Kaminari Denki, is yanked right out of the questioning stage of his life and now has to navigate the process of coming out. He decides to do it step-by-step, with each step taking more courage than the last.

And if coming out equates to slaying the dragon, then perhaps by the end of this he'll get the guy, too.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349292   the river walked me home by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion   28k, gen, referenced child abuse, dissociating, healing, dadzawa,

Shouto's life is a deck of precariously stacked cards, and one online article about Endeavour's approach to parenting sends the whole thing tumbling down. Not everyone believes it. Half the public denies it. But even if it turns out there's no truth in the article, the staff at U.A. are under enough fire as it is, and sending Shouto home for the upcoming week-long break is inexcuseable in the eyes of the press.

Not to mention, Aizawa wouldn't stand for it anyway.

Or: Shouto spends a week or two hiding from the world in his teacher's house, where he is introduced to Animal Crossing, the sweetest cat in the world, and the bizarre concept of feeling safe in his own home.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18507250   All-Night by ertiniest_hands_in_all_the_land   7k, gen, fluff, domestic, dadzawa,

Tonight doesn’t seem to be any different. Though Aizawa hasn’t moved since hitting the couch, Shinsō knows he’s still very much alive when he hears the muffled inquiry of, “Why are you two still awake…”

Shinsō takes another bite of his crepe before answering. “I couldn’t sleep and she had a nightmare.”

Or

Shinsō Hitoshi comforts a small child, makes crepes at 2 in the morning, sutures a wound, and appears on late-night radio. The perfectly normal experience when he can't sleep.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13853580   Dis(associate) by BeyondTheClouds777   283k, gen, bullying, puns, injury, service dog, ghosts (kinda),

Izuku has a “dissociation” Quirk that lets his ghost leave his body, and it’s both convenient and inconvenient at the same time. Either way, he's going to do whatever it takes to become a hero.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935958   and i'm nothing like you by aloneintherain   9k, gen, kidnapping, mind control, being forced to hurt your friend, h/c,

Of all the people to have been kidnapped alongside, it had to be this person, this hero, the one person who would never blame him for the things he was forced to do.

“Don’t cry,” Midoriya says.

“Fuck you,” Hitoshi chokes out.

(When Shinsou goes grocery shopping a few weeks after transferring to Class 2A, Midoriya tags along. Because he is, for some reason, determined to be Shinsou’s friend.

Shinsou remains cold and withdrawn in the face of Midoriya’s friendliness—until they’re kidnapped by a woman with a brainwashing quirk who believes Shinsou doesn’t belong in the hero course.)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035913   i was busy thinking 'bout... by crossroadswrite   3k, Midoriya/multi,

He wonders at times if this is divine retribution for something he did. Is it punishment? Is he being punished with pretty boys who can snap him in half? Is that it? Or is this a reward perhaps? Can you call being tormented by handsome boys a reward? Probably.

(or: local bi boy too gay for this, more at eleven.)

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821275   a little pick me up by crossroadswrite   2k, Midoriya/Kirishima, fluff, 5+1,

Midoriya and him have been working out together for a while now. He’s a cool gym buddy, and he keeps up with Eijirou better than a lot of other people in class, which is fun.

There aren’t a lot of people who can spot for him when he does weights, just because of how much Eijirou can lift.

And despite all this, nothing prepares Eijirou for Midoriya coming up to him nervously, and bashfully asking, “Kirishima-kun, would you mind sitting on me?”

(Or: 5 Times Midoriya picks Kirishima up + 1 time he picks him up, or 5 times Midoriya picks Kirishima up + 1 time Kirishima picks him up)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609802     A Letter to Me by kiapet   15k, gen, time travel, bullying, kidnapping,

Fourteen-year-old Bakugou Katsuki knows he’s destined to be a great hero someday. Midoriya Izuku dreams of the same, but struggles to get through each day in a world determined to push him down. But when the pair of middle schoolers are kidnapped by a villain with a time travel quirk, they are forced to confront a future neither of them could predict- and versions of themselves they never expected to become.

-Or-

Pro!Midoriya to Kid!Midoriya: You matter so much, and everything is going to be okay! Pro!Bakugou to Kid!Bakugou: Now listen here you little shit-

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560458   third couch is the charm by laurenshappenstobemyhusband   6k, gen, friendship,

Shouto trained for years to control his ice. Encasing everything in ice whenever he sneezed, got angry or startled, or just whenever he wasn't paying attention always got him into trouble, and he's glad he finally has complete control over his right side.

Unfortunately, he can't say the same about his flames.

OR: Todoroki sets three couches on fire, which apparently is too many, so now he has to take quirk control classes with Kaminari and they bond over mutual destruction

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23241805   You Matter, Too by Baku_Babe   11k, gen, injury, recovery,

Bakugou was afraid.

He never thought he'd see the day where he would openly admit to himself that he was scared. Because he shouldn't be scared; he was Katsuki Bakugou, one of Class A's finest students, survivor of more horrific events in his young life than most adults had experienced in a lifetime.

But today was different. Today, as he stood on trembling legs with his hands clasped tightly against his stomach, blood gushing past his clenched fingers as his vision blurred...

Today, in his greatest moment of weakness, he was horrified.

And there was no one there to help him.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24425764   Of Supervillains and Paternity Tests by onelittlebirdiesittingonthesill   1k gen, dad for one,

Midoriya Izuku is just getting settled into life in the dorms, as a rising hero, comfortable in his knowledge of Eri-chan's safety.

Then someone collapses the roof of the dorms, and Aizawa-sensei shows them the newly-rewound identity of All For One.

And he has freckles.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575034   the drip of melting ice by walking_through_autumn   19k, gen, dadzawa, h/c,

Aizawa found out within a day. It was quite likely due to the dish Todoroki had washed and left to dry in the shared kitchen after the kitten had been fed off it. Hitoshi was forced to reflect that it wasn’t any good hiding the litter and cat food in their wardrobes if Todoroki was going to make a fundamental mistake like that.

Aizawa stood in his door frame and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Where is the cat?”

Hitoshi gave his most disarming smile. “What cat?”

Todoroki chose that moment to exit his room, eyes on his phone, other hand holding a cat toy. He bumped into Aizawa and looked up slowly, like in a horror movie.

“...oh,” Todoroki said. Aizawa raised the other eyebrow. Hitoshi rubbed a hand down his face.

-

Herbal tea, weekly floor gatherings, spoiled surprises, movie marathons, shared custody over a cat, rain and ice and blankets and plushies, and the journey of falling into a friendship. (Or: Hitoshi moves into the 2A dormitory at the beginning of his second year, learns who his neighbour is, and makes the friends he had declared he isn't there to have within the space of a semester.)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019061   Doodling the Daydreams Away by loki_dokey   3k, Kirishima/Bakugou,

Aizawa had never had any qualms with Bakugou's attitude to his learning. In fact, the kid had taught the others a thing or two about diligence and productivity over the two and a half years he'd been in the class. Truth be told, Bakugou was on par with Yaoyarozu and Iida when it came to having a studious nature.

So when Aizawa carefully tilted the boy's paper in the light to discover what had clearly been erased with earnest, he blinked when he realised it was a dick. A firmly-drawn but desperately-erased dick. Unable to help the huff of laughter from escaping him, Aizawa sat back and ran a hand through his hair, eyes scouring the work in his hand. Well, he had not been expecting to find that on his Monday evening.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223665   Renegade Quirk by threesipsmore   5k, Kirishima/Bakugou, quirk accident,

This is the second time Bakugo's been hit by a wayward quirk in a playground of snotty, wailing children. He's intent on ignoring the colors all around him until it wears off, no matter how violently apparent his classmates' inner emotions become.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675587   Flying High, Diving Low by EonsofVictory   2k, gen, dadzawa, accidental drug use,

“Are they drugged?!”

During a temporary internship, Bakugou, Midoriya and Shinsou are accidentally exposed to an unknown substance, leaving them dazed with the drug's effects. Its a good thing their homeroom teacher is there to take care of them.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/23167126   Eye of the Beholder by Heronfem   6k, Sero/Todoroki,

“I’m just saying,” Mina says, propping her chin in her hand and pouting, “it’s unfair. It’s totally unfair. We were all fools and our punishment is too extreme to be borne. The gods are making us pay.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open from where he’s sprawled out with his head in Kirishima’s lap. It’s a nice day, closing in on the end of summer during their third year of school, and the heat is fully upon them. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“That,” she huffs, and points.

“Oh,” Bakugou says wryly. “That.”

---

Or, Sero gets hot over summer break and Todoroki gets his man (though not without a few bumps along the way).

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828215   (it's just that it's) Delicate by DarklingMoon   8k, Aizawa/Yamada, mutual pining, awkward sexual situations,

“With both of my arms broken…” Shouta trails off, breaking his glare to look away. “...Oh,” Hizashi says, after just a moment, when he gets it. Now he’s blushing, too. If he wasn’t before. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that, you can’t...haven’t been able to...”

Hizashi gives his best friend a helping hand.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429556   Security Blanket by ManaBanana   8k, Kirishima/Bakugou, fluff, h/c, 5+1,

Bakugou sleeps a lot already, but he tends to do it more when Kirishima is around.

(5 times Kirishima found Bakugou sleeping and one time he woke up next to him)

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635304   Wishful Thinking by Kiyoko_Michi   17k, Aizawa/Yamada, mutual pining,

Most professional Heroes keep their personal relationships quiet, for privacy and safety. Everyone who has ever seen Eraserhead and Present Mic together know they’re one such couple. If only someone would tell them so they’d stop pining over each other…

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24604015   stillness and sanctuary by wonhaebunny   3k, Iida/Bakugou, fluff,

“Is that… Hesse?” Tenya ventures slowly. Bakugou pauses, page suspended half-turn. “What the fuck is it to you?” he snarls, looking very defensive suddenly. Tenya is too busy staring at the book cover to reply. He’s not sure how to process the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is reading his favourite book. What does this mean? How does Tenya proceed from here?

-

or: katsuki can read and tenya loses his absolute shit over it

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276730   Beyond The Stars (All The Way To You) by Ibelieveinahappilyeverafter   19k, gen,

Shinsou Hitoshi is finally home with his new family and ready for a long break of doing nothing before he starts his second year of U.A. in the heroics course. His break doesn’t quite go to plan, though, when his body starts going through changes. And not changes as in getting older, but changes as in he suddenly has pointed ears, sharp teeth, and wings and a tail growing out of his back.

It’s a scramble to figure out if what’s happening is a rare quirk mutation or if it’s something else much more serious. While the answer might lie with his birth family, it’s the family he has now that’s going to help him through it. One thing is for sure, though, and that’s the fact that Hitoshi is never going to have a normal life again.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24941116   if you see the boy i used to be by aloneintherain   5k, gen, temporary amnesia, past bullying,

“Where are we?” Izuku asks, throat tight.

Aizawa glances at him. “UA.”

Izuku stops. He looks back down at the forest-green suit and the cape fastened around his neck, and swallows, barely daring to believe it. “And I’m...”

“You’re a third-year student here,” Aizawa says without inflection, like he’s not completely shattering Izuku’s world-view. “In the hero course.”

Or: After a training accident, Izuku forgets everything that happened after his second year of middle school.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887490   for you, anything by unreemarkable   41k, Midoriya/Todoroki, fluff, h/c, angst, 5+1,

“Hey, Shouto, we’re friends, right?” “Best friends." In which Todoroki and Midoriya try their best. (alternatively: five times Midoriya is there for Todoroki, and one time Todoroki is there for him.)

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18727342   Power Lift Into Your Heart by IceEckos12   30k, Modoriya/Todoroki, AU, personal trainer,

In a world where people cause minor miracles to happen daily, Izuku is unfortunate enough to be stuck with uncontrollable bad luck. Nevertheless, he tries to live his life as quietly as his mysterious (read: annoying) ability will allow.

But then Izuku is hired by UA Fitness, and things kind of snowball from there. The clients are strange, the staff is even stranger, and if his quirk doesn't break every bone in his body then he will be lucky.

At least the guy who threw coffee all over him is kind of cute.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659223   What One Hides by Pinalinet   94k, Midoriya/Todoroki,

All Might gives class 1-A an unusual assignment that results in Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto attending a weekly acting class. But with a mysterious villain targeting individuals without Quirks, and a developing issue of Todoroki's own, an after-school assignment is the least of their worries.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714669   Cry Me A River by carolinaa   7k, gen, quirk accident, dadzawa,

“This is nothing,” Shouta says to the class, trying to sound as flat as possible. “Please go back to studying.” “You’re crying,” Asui says into the heavy quiet.

Shouta gets hit with the worst quirk he could possibly think of. On the bright side, his family loves him. And his eyes haven’t been this hydrated in about fifteen years.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24067537   you live/you learn/you love/you're dead by carolinaa   13k, gen, injury, h/c,

Two minutes pass before Aizawa taps Midoriya’s face and Midoriya doesn’t respond in the slightest. They don’t have time to wait any longer.

Aizawa looks up at Todoroki, and tries to say with the least amount of callousness possible, “He won’t make it until the medical team gets here.”

Todoroki’s breath hitches, but his voice is still hard when he insists, “Yes he will.”

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498238   bff (brother friend forever) by carolinaa   3k, gen,

Uraraka's an only child, and Iida's only ever been a younger brother. The two of them have no clue what an older-brother, younger-sister dynamic is supposed to look like.

At this point, they just seem determined to make everyone around them as confused as possible.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17612087   three fishes in a tank by atomicmuffin   30k, Midoriya/Ochako/Todoroki, fluff, polyamory negotiation, sharing a bed,

Due to the tragic and early demise of his flat, Todoroki has no other choice but to temporarily move in with Midoriya and Uraraka. And, one thing leading to another, never manages to leave.

Midoriya/Uraraka/Todoroki domestic fluff.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571911   awake and (un)afraid, asleep or- by driedupwishes   54k, Midoriya/Todoroki, post-canon,

“You,” Shoto says, picking his head up from where his screen is filled with The Worst Photograph Ever, curtesy of Shinsou, Jiro, Kaminari, his brother, and nearly everyone they know. “You are so dead to me.”

Kirishima blinks, mouth half open while Izuku mutters oh god, it’s too late, isn’t it on the other end of the phone, before Kirishima is leaning into his space to see his screen.

“Oh,” he says, in response to the photo someone in the crowd of civilians watching the fight had taken of them. “Oh, that’s-” he cuts himself off for a minute, leaning back to eye Shoto’s face while on the other side of the phone Izuku smothers what is probably a laugh, and then changes tracks.

“It’s super manly to love and support your friends,” Kirishima tells Shoto haughtily, as if this whole thing isn't his fault in the first place.

-

or: Kirishima and Shoto accidentally start trending on Twitter and in retaliation Shoto decides to make an Instagram to showcase all his Hero Deku merchandise, so that everyone knows how much he loves his boyfriend Izuku, and no one expects how quickly it will all spiral out from there

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409002   Romancing For Dummies: A Book Specifically Addressed To Todoroki Shouto by Julietwasanidiot   8k, Midoriya/Todoroki, 5+1,

If this is what Midoriya thinks, that these results come from a genuine effort on Shouto’s part to smooth over the romantic tribulations of his classmates, and not from the awkward fumbling of some hormone-ridden teenage homosexual disaster, Shouto’s going to defend that belief if it kills him.

Or: Five times Shouto intervenes in times of emotional crisis, and one time Class 1-A intervenes because Shouto is the crisis.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15019553   Never Let Me Go by Iamalsohere   7k, Todoroki/Yaoyorozu, light bondage, non-sexual intimacy,

"I like the idea that someone would ever trust me enough to let me tie them up. I know it sounds stupid…"

"No. It doesn't. It sounds nice."

Todoroki is intrigued when he finds a book in Yaoyorozu's room about bondage and shibari (though she insists she just owns it for reference). He finds himself lying awake at night, wondering what it would be like to trust someone enough to give his body to them. To let someone else take control for a change.

If it's Yaoyorozu taking control, he thinks he might enjoy it. In fact, Todoroki quickly realises that that's what he wants more than anything.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002178   Just Say When by Bounemr   50k, Kaminari/Todoroki,

Denki is shocked to find himself tutored by Todoroki. Will he finally rise from last place, academically, in class? Will love shenanigans happen? Probably. They're not mutually exclusive.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686197   The World Is Not Enough by mousapelli   25k, Midoriya/Todoroki, post-canon, pining,

In the four years after leaving UA, Midoriya and Todoroki live in lots of different places and try all sorts of different things on their way to becoming full pro heroes, but one of the things that never changes is staying best friends and always being just a phone call away even when they're on opposite sides of the world. Another thing that never changes is Midoriya's Plus Ultra-sized crush on Todoroki.

Slow burn friends to lovers for TodoDeku Big Bang 2019.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17396711   Dé à coudre by atomicmuffin   4k, Sero/Todoroki, fluff, pining,

Sero Hanta slides from the One-Sided Rivalry Zone and dives head first into the Pining Wasteland so fast he doesn’t even notice until he’s already half drowning under the feels.

A Sero/Todoroki One Shot, coming straight from the RarePair Hell.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721299   Checks and Balances by indirectkissesiniceland   113k, Midoriya/Todoroki, AU, pining,

Izuku Midoriya was a competitive cheerleader up until an injury to his hand made tumbling and stunting an impossibility. It's devastating to think that cheer could be out of his life for good—until a pair of enthusiastic classmates show up at Izuku's dorm room with a signup sheet for a new club: hockey cheerleading. All that's left to do is learn how exactly hockey works...and try not to think too much about the prodigious freshman right wing, who's just about the most wonderful person Izuku's ever met.

Shouto Todoroki has eaten, slept, and breathed hockey his whole life. He's got a legacy to live up to with his pro-hockey old man, and he's no stranger to the scrutiny and expectations of his coaches and teammates. It's different now that he plays for UA, though. He's got a former pro coach who sees potential in him and teammates who might actually like him as a person. Then there's the cheerleading captain, who's kind and compassionate in a way Shouto's never known—and who won't rest until Shouto stops dismissing hockey as nothing more than his old man's game.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25533433   Sunflower by indirectkissesiniceland   10k, Sero/Todoroki, pining,

Sero has a soft spot for Todoroki, who has a soft spot for Sero. Bakusquad passes the popcorn.

Written for Sero Week 2020!

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13962834   Late bloomer by NohaIjiachi   9k, Midoriya/Todoroki, porn with feelings, slight angst,

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?’

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15076253   You Need Some Ice for That Burn by theyalwayssay   10k, Midoriya/Todoroki,

After four months of Izuku being the ecstatic, bewildered, disbelieving boyfriend of Todoroki Shouto, their physical intimacy has plateaued. Both of them are burning up, and something’s got to give. Strap in; this is gonna get loud.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20737139   The Cave by TheRedDragon173   55k, Kirishima/Bakugou, child abuse, self-harm, PTSD, trans character,

Bakugou Katsuki is not weak. He's strong. Or at least, that's what he tells others. And himself.

He wears his aggression like armor, hiding the truth of how he feels. But even the strongest armor can start to chip away and warp, if enough pressure is applied. So when the facade begins to crack, how is Katsuki supposed to deal with it?

The answer is; badly.

But maybe he has more friends than he thinks, and they just might care a whole lot more than Katsuki realizes.

(heed the tags)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888921   Up To Date by Pouler (poulerslashes)   19k, Midoriya/Todoroki, pro-heroes,

"It's just for fun. Heroes do this sort of thing all the time." "Do they?" Uraraka laughed. "Oh yeah," she said. "You should’ve seen some of the pictures I found in my mom's stash when I was a kid." "I see." Todoroki stumbles upon a collection of photographs he wasn't intended to see.

.  

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15088175   Always On My Mind by TheMomeRath   10k, Midoriya/Todoroki, no mpreg,

It's been a couple years since they started dating, and Midoriya and Todoroki have plans to lose their virginity to each other. Sometimes, however, sex can have unexpected effects.

Or; a lesson in the importance of wearing a condom.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824905   Echo by CrzA   22k, Midoriya/Todoroki, AU, soulmates,

Not trusting his voice not to crack miserably, Izuku gives him a little nod that turns into a shake of his head about halfway through. How is he supposed to be okay? The literal man of his dreams is literally standing right in front of him, fussing over him while blushing like a maiden after the absolutely lecherous activities they have engaged in more than once in his head.

Or a fic where soulmates exist and Izuku thinks he doesn't have one... until he almost literally steps out of his dreams.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345182   lantern by notallballs (notallbees)   3k, Midoriya/Todoroki, first time, h/c,

"Todoroki?"

He turned his head. "Mm?"

Midoriya's voice quivered. "How many did we save?"

Shouto closed his eyes. "The police officer I spoke to said a conservative effort would be seventy-five, perhaps eighty."

After a difficult rescue mission, Midoriya and Todoroki find comfort in each other.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18538114   friday nights by gasmask   6k, Kirishima/Bakugou, mutual masturbation,

“You guys send each other porn? For the muscles?”

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550984   seeing sparks by gasmask   4k, Bakugou/Kaminari, pining, 5+1,

5 times having a crush on Denki really fucking sucks.

1 time having a crush on Denki isn't too bad.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566070   𝙸 𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸'𝚖 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊 by cutiefemdom   7k, Kirishima/Bakugou, a/b/o, dominant omega,

Bakugou wants to be the class's pack leader but a strangely fearless and tough omega beats him to it. He's less upset about it than he thought he'd be and breaks about three hundred gender norms in the process of falling in love.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598746   🔥 Comfortably Numb 🔥 by cutiefemdom   32k, Kirishima/Bakugou, a/b/o, dominant omega,

Due to the sheer amount of sweat his quirk produced, Bakugou was an omega heat magnet. In fact, his scent made omegas close to their heats go straight into it. They couldn't keep their hands off of him.

𝘖𝘙: 𝘉𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘥-𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴. (𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘒𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢.)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15435156   nothing lingers passively by iimo   44k, Todoroki/Bakugou, a/b/o,

“Dehydration and dry skin were common side effects of suppressants - they dry up the glands that secrete the potent hormones that Alphas and Omegas experience during their monthly ruts and heats. Normally these reactions can be lessened by drinking more water and bulking up on body lotion and chapstick.

But the hormonal glands aren't the only ones to whither like raisins under the influence of suppressants - both the exocrine and endocrine systems were subject to its dehydrating effects. So as a future Pro Hero with a quirk that activates with sweat, the choice boiled down to a hard nope, fuck that. No suppressants.

The peace of his classmates be damned.”

Alpha Bakugou Katsuki is allergic to suppressants, and Todoroki Shouto is a Beta with a grudge. Together they strike a deal that swiftly exceeds anything they'd bargained for.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794499   What Came First? by FoolishFortuna   5k, Kirishima/Bakugou,

“Right. So you’ve gotta know what a game of ‘chicken’ is right? Its when two people start at either end of a drag strip or road and drive their cars straight at each other until one of them gets scared and turns the wheel. Well, this is the gay kiss version. You both lean in and the first one to pull back loses. Simple, man.” Kaminari put his hands on his hips and grinned at his classmate.

Wherein Kirishima is the king of gay chicken. Until he's... not?

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25189612   I think I wanna marry you by izlaria (mixthealphabet)   5k, Aizawa/Yamada, mutual pining, bed sharing,

At 22, at 25, at 31, the truth stays the same: Hizashi Yamada is in love with his best friend.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25342699   But Our Records Keep Skipping by Robbirdthe8th (FictionalFeather)   13k, Aizawa/Yamada, pining, gentle sex, past sexual abuse,

"It's not like any of my exes ever said 'let's fuck or I'm leaving you' but...yeah. It's a factor."

"You just didn't want to sleep with any of them?"

"I wanted to. Or wanted to want to, I guess."

***

The impact left by Hizashi's ex-boyfriend still looms, too big and too much, so he asks Shouta for a favor.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25339180   Do You Even Lift? by Plantzawa   1k, Kirishima/Bakugou, dumb boys,

Some girls think they're real clever getting Kirishima to bodily lift them, but one blond disagrees.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12733629   show me how to by Slumber   3k, Aizawa/Yamada, voyeurism, exhibitionism, asexual character,

"You have a power, learn to control it. Instead you'd rather ask me to erase it for you while you get off with another student-- have you thought about what you're asking?"

In which Yamada Hizashi just wants to have sex without injuring his classmates and Aizawa is the perfect solution.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193845   Send Nudes Winky Face by thephilosophah   81k, polyamorous 1A, lots of sex, all the sex,

In which Kaminari is bad at sexting and the Bakusquad makes a bet over it. Then everyone starts betting on them and the stakes rise, and Bakugou's so certain he'll naturally win that he doesn't even notice how much money he's adding to the pool.

RC: incredibly smutty yet wholesome. an absolute delight to read. made me happy just to see the tab scroll past as i procrastinated on updating this list.

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https://archiveofourown.org/series/1115469     I Am Here series by lalazee   9k, All Might/Endeavor, pre-canon, UST, angst, teenagers,

“Nothing about this life is like a comic book. One day, you’re going to realize it in the worst way possible. And I’ll be there, the Number One Hero, all along.”

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16795468   If I Win... by orphan_account   2k, All Might/Endeavor, pre-canon, internalized homophobia,

"If I win, let me kiss you."

Enji punched him in the face.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16266083   warm, sweet, slightly smoked by soltian   2k, Hawks/Endeavor, male lactation,

due to unknown factors, endeavor has a problem. hawks is happy to help.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18234113   Hold Him Down, Goddamit by Elixiers   2k, Bakugou/Kirishima/Kaminari, masturbation,

Denki should have known, he really should have. To his defense, he never really realized it until he paid attention.

Now, though, it’s glaringly obvious: Bakugou is putty in Kirishima’s hands.

Denki’s incredibly curious about how Kirishima does it, about what he tells Bakugou to calm him down… but each time he asks, Kirishima only gives a boisterous laugh and waves the question away.

It becomes Denki’s mission to find out– simply because of the fact that, well, it’s kind of hot, he guesses? He can’t help but hold that thought every time Bakugou shivers just slightly when Kirishima whispers into his ear, and Bakugou’s cheeks turn red, and he’s still scowling spectacularly but, uh… yeah, shit, it’s cute.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19116025   Messy by beebuzz   14k, Kaminari/Bakugou/Kirishima/Tetsutetsu,

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Kaminari moved his eyes to the side. “I’m trying to talk about this. Because I feel guilty talking to him like that when I should be satisfied with you two- And I am- And I know there’s already a lot to deal with when there’s three of us, but I guess I was just wondering if maybe you two would be open to meeting him.”

“Meeting him.” Kirishima repeated, hands completely stilling on Bakugou’s shoulders. “As in-”

“A date.” Bakugou finished for him, sharp gaze catching bright gold as Kaminari shot up straight.

“No-”

“No?”

“Well- maybe.”

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24510598   Don't by Trenchcoatkitten   16k, Kirishima/Bakugou, post-canon, roommates,

Kirishima is out of a place to live - and Bakugou gives him a perfect solution

OR

And they were roommates. (Oh my god they were roommates) Basically I just needed these babies being soft and sweet and domestic okay. Light angst cause I'm ~still a piece of garbage~ and I can't help it.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25454512   When He Sees Me by Trenchcoatkitten   81k, Midoriya/Todoroki, AU, disability, past child abuse,

“Sorry,” Midoriya says. “I tend to get off in my own little world sometimes. Guess I just talk a lot. Hope that won't bother you.” “It's fine. I don't talk very much.” Midoriya grins again, lighting up the booth brighter than the light hanging over the table. “We're a perfect pair, then!”

xx

Todoroki Shouto moves in with someone he's never met, just while he's in town for his show. He's never really known what home could mean, and, well, Izuku's the perfect ball of sunshine to show him. Basically, this is a Blind!Izuku and Dancer!Shouto AU :)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25647619   bells by arxaris   18k, Sero/Todoroki, A/B/O, pining,

It’s times like these that Hanta wishes he were… like his peers. Where they can rely on biological instincts and subtle changes in scent, he has to rely on his subpar skill at reading people, on the hope that he can tell when a friend – are they friends, though? – would rather not be alone.

Hanta looks down at his arm, curled tight around his offered comforts, and lets out a quiet sigh.

He has to rely on a shared interest in manga, on the sheer luck that he watches Todoroki enough to know which brand of chips he sometimes buys at lunch time, what drink he reaches for from their communal fridge after class.

-Third year brings Sero Hanta new manga, old insecurities, and Todoroki Shouto.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22403767   Overheard by catastrophicGallivant   7k, Sero/Kaminari/Todoroki, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, awkward sexual situations, first time,

Shouto is already in bed when the noises start. He glances at his clock—a quarter to midnight, about the usual time for them. Kaminari is always the louder of the two. Shouto can hear him moaning through the wall, faintly at first, then loud as if he can’t control himself anymore. Quieter but still present, running underneath Kaminari’s keening, Sero sighs, gasps, curses softly.

Shouto should really go back to sleep.

He should get up and knock on the wall; he’s done it before and they quieted right down after, and the next morning he got matching apologies at breakfast. He should text Sero, who would see his phone ping and do—something, and then the noises would stop and Shouto could sleep. He should really, really go back to sleep.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18419600   Kneel by deviance   7k, Kirishima/Bakugou, post-canon, pining, light dom/sub,

“Bakugou?”

Bakugou shuffled on his feet, hovering over Kirishima and looking at the ground with stormy eyes. He glanced up to glare at Kirishima, a silent dare to call him out on his odd behavior no doubt. Kirishima forced himself not to tense. Whatever Bakugou wanted, he was about to show him and Kirishima had to get this right. Bakugou was all about showing and not telling.

Kirishima nearly bit his tongue to keep in a squawk of surprise when Bakugou suddenly dropped to his knees next to him, shuffling forward until he could press his forehead to his thigh and hide his face against Kirishima's leg. Kirishima opened his mouth, questions on the tip of his tongue, and he barely managed to catch them before they could be given voice. Bakugou was trembling minutely, his entire frame so tense his muscles were twitching under Kirishima's gaze.

“Just. Don't say anything,” Bakugou muttered, hands clenching in his lap tightly. “Please,” he whispered, a short choked sound.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191777   I See Your Face So Vividly by kopycat_101   13k, Kaminari/Midoriya, pining,

"Midoriya looks electric, looks vibrant. His eyes light up, big and glimmering like neon signs. He jumps across Field Gamma, a place that’s all but a twisting maze of steel, a streak of bright green amongst the monotonous gray. Fearless, easy, like he’s flying through the skies.

Denki wishes he could take a picture of this, of Midoriya leaping through the air like a lightning strike personified. But a picture wouldn’t ever be able to live up to the real thing, wouldn’t do justice to how Midoriya looks."

Denki's been falling for a long time without knowing it. But then he's hit by the sudden realization that he has a crush on Izuku the day Izuku uses Full Cowl for the first time in front of class 1-A. What follows includes a sexuality crisis, compliments, smiles, extended eye contact, blushing, heartwarming friendships, and an insane amount of pining for the ages.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396243   A Different Kind of Limelight by despitetheabundance (Lindra)   6k, Aizawa/All Might,body dysmorphia, scars, emotional porn, camboy,

Yagi Toshinori posts a drunken dick pic on self-deprecating whim and falls down a rabbit hole of tips, compliments, and learning to live in the body of a man he never wanted to be.

AKA Toshinori becomes a camboy and learns to love himself, feat. Aizawa's Thirst

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812076   you have made me feel so sure by honeijirou   17k, Kirishima/Bakugou, soulmates, disability, pining, h/c,

Kirishima only saw him out of the corner of his eyes at first.

It’s a blur, a flash really – it’s a blossom of explosions whose after-flashes seemed to form a halo around the boy’s head, or perhaps it was how the boy’s blonde hair caught the sunlight: a combination of that specific angle in that specific moment. Either way, when Kirishima catches a hint of a smirk of a smile, even despite Kirishima’s own Quirk, the way it glints feels like it cuts.

-

alternatively, a soulmate au. first words are written on your body, and kirishima has always had clear skin: but the moment he sees bakugou, he has never been more sure of anything in his life.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24575374   We've got a good thing going by lehnsherry   3k, Hawks/Endeavor,

Enji is watching Shouto, so he notices the way his eyes snap to the kitchen doorway just before he hears the soft footsteps and the rustling of wings, and his heart jumps into his throat. He turns in his seat just in time to see Hawks walk in, eyes still closed and a hand scratching at his messy hair.

“Mornin’, babe, do you know where my -” Hawks breaks into a huge yawn, and then opens his sleepy eyes, and freezes in the doorway like Shouto used his power on him.

Enji’s mouth makes an involuntary sound of embarrassment, and Hawks flushes all the way down to his chest.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25509430   speak it free by aloneintherain   3k, gen, h/c,

“I didn’t have the same middle school experience as you,” Shinsou says. “I didn’t become rivals with my childhood friend.”

Shinsou doesn’t know who Kacchan really is to him. Izuku has spent so much time looking at Shinsou and relating to him, that he forgot that Shinsou wasn’t looking back at him with that same recognition.

Izuku takes a deep breath, and starts, “Kacchan and I aren’t really childhood friends. Not really.”

Or: Shinsou finds out that Bakugou used to bully Midoriya.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24799483   How To Get Adopted Without Letting Your Dad Know He's Adopting You, A Guide By Class 1-A by lesbianclerics   16k, gen, dadzawa, fluff, injury,

Mina waits until Aizawa’s well out of earshot before muttering a teasing, “Okay dad” under her breath. Kirishima’s eyes go wide. Midoriya chokes on air and the soap he’s spraying goes wide, hitting the wall as well as the stove. Kaminari freezes halfway through tiptoeing across the kitchen. They all stare at her, frightened for a moment that Aizawa heard her somehow. Then, when nothing happens after a moment, Kaminari cackles, loudly, and doubles over laughing.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25979236   Lightning Child by AmaranthineDream   3k, gen, BAMF!midoriya,

Izuku manages to consistently use One for All at 100%, without breaking himself, half way through his second year. He graduates with that power tightly regulated, completely under his control; his quirk is his, completely.

The graduated class 3A has a word for it when Izuku - Deku - goes 100%. It's a physical sensation, they learned early; a pressure in the air and on their lungs and down to their bones and blood. Everyone within his vicinity can feel it.

They call it going green.

And then, in a fight against the villain Jupiter, Deku goes green for the first time since UA.

One third of the people at the scene collapse to their knees.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25779088   Eggs With a Side of Crimson Feathers by kittenmittens   7k, Hawks/Endeavor, mpreg, oviposition,

“These your other kids?” All that gets him is a grunt in response. Keigo snorts, then goes on talking like Todoroki didn’t just give him a massive verbal red light. “I don’t think I ever got their names.”

“I never told you,” grumbles Todoroki, and when Keigo turns to look at him, he’s glaring worse than ever.

Keigo smiles. “My bad.”

---

Hawks just happens to lay eggs every once in a while, but it's fine, totally fine, and he's not gonna let it ruin this once-in-a-lifetime chance to nail his idol.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726799   A Secret Admirer by KiriBakuHappiness   61k, Kirishima/Bakugou, fluff, pining, friends to lovers, the boys are dumb,

Bakugou Katsuki has a secret admirer and the class of 1-A is desperate to figure out who it could possibly be.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659202   Why Is Everything So Weird With the Lights Off? by KiriBakuHappiness   12k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining,

Kirishima’s never really considered what Bakugou would be like when he was drunk and he’s kind of curious to find out but also a little apprehensive. This was still Lord Explosion Murder he was dealing with, after all.

Bakugou stops in the middle of the room, taking in all of the posters on the walls and eyeing suspiciously at the punching bag as if he’s never seen one before in his life. He sways a little before he frowns and squints dangerously. Kirishima tenses in preparation for some snarky remark about his inability to decorate, but all that comes out of Bakugou’s slurred mouth is, “This isn’t my fucking room.”

Wow, okay, maybe he’s a lot more drunk than Kirishima first thought.

-

OR - Kirishima can't imagine who would be trying to talk to him in the middle of the night on a school night, but when he opens the door and finds Bakugou Katsuki drunk, he can't just turn him away, right? What kind of a friend would he be if he did that?

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238265   He's Sexy And He Knows It. by FoolishFortuna   2k, Kirishima/Bakugou, grinidng, lapdance, exhibitionism, premature ejaculation,

"Bakugou couldn't do anything sexy if he tried!” Kaminari called out with a loud laugh that everyone in the common room joined in with.

Katsuki felt a vein in his temple throbbing as he bared his teeth and tried to count to ten in his head before he was tempted to cross the room and blast Dunce Face to hell for the insult.

They were in the common room, eating junk food and drinking light, crappy beers on their day off from hero training. But when the conversation turned to who had the most sex appeal in the class, it became clear that not one of these fucking idiots believed Katsuki was capable of being anything other than loud, angry or sulky. ‘And pulling horrible faces’ was added by Mina with another laugh that everyone echoed.

And okay, the fact that they had no faith in him made him want to shout and blast things and pull faces, but shut the fuck up. He could be goddamn sexy if he wanted to be.

Kirishima slapped a hand to his thigh and guffawed before wheezing in a breath and adding, “HA! Blasty asking someone out, I'd pay to see it! Or asking for a kiss like, ‘kiss me now, you shitty bitch’. I can't, that's too good.”

That's fucking it.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/20067655   In the Dark of the Night by arxaris   84k, Kirishima/Bakugou, AU,

Bakugou woke to chants sounding through the Colosseum. “Red Riot! Red Riot! Red Riot!”

Red Riot?

“Sero,” he snapped at the Head of his Council, seated a few meters to his right in the Emperor’s box. “What the fuck is a Red Riot?”

Sero nodded his head to the pit and Bakugou followed his gaze, watching as another gladiator walked out of the gate and towards the center. “New gladiator prodigy. He’s only eighteen, but he hasn’t even come close to losing a fight since he started a couple months ago.” Then, Sero smirked. “I think you’re gonna like him.”

-

Or, all's fair in love and war.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798505   Complicated Creation by Elemental   112k, gen, canon-AU, dadzawa,

Midoriya Izuku is medically quirkless, not technically homeless, perpetually exhausted and doing his damned best despite it all. He also sees spirits, which might be cool if not for the fact that a) no one else does, b) they really don't like him very much, and c) he's pretty sure the heroes now think he's a villain working for the League.

Aizawa Shota just wants to take down Overhaul, rescue Eri, keep his students alive, get some rest, and find out how this Deku kid knows things he absolutely should not know about his personal life and the Shie Hassaikai case.

Unless Nighteye's right, and the kid really is a villain.  

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578874   He's Our Most Important Member by autumnconcept   5k, gen, BAMF!midoriya,

As a member of the quirkless side of society, Izuku has long given up his dream of being a hero.

Remind him how he ended up in charge of an entire agency?

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12729852   I Would Understand by deafmic   45k, gen, dadzawa, foster care, child neglect, child abuse, adoption,

Shinsou Hitoshi had a bit of a problem, and that problem was that he’d gotten attached to Aizawa Shouta. And somewhere along the line had started seeing him as a parental figure, a replacement for all the foster home parents who’d passed him along and never quite done their job.

A kid who's been in foster care his entire life spends a normal, average day after training with the teacher who seems to care a little too much.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216944   You know that thing where an orchestra swaps instruments, and like, some of them get it right away, but others have no clue what they're doing? This is that but with quirks, two unwilling participants, and also Emotions by Sif (Rosae)   13k, gen, quirk swap, PTSD, touch starved, h/c, quirk drawbacks,

Momo wasn't sure why it came as such a shock to her and her classmates that nitroglycerin was not, in fact, easy to control. The chemical was defined by it's instability, it's ability to go off under near any circumstances, it's powerful blows.

And yet, Katsuki had always made it look so simple. He soared through the air like it was nothing, switching between bullet-sized blasts and missile levels of firepower like most people switched channels on TV. Momo had found herself jealous of his quirk at times, unable to help wondering what it would be like to have such power at her fingertips.

Good news, she didn't have to wonder anymore. Bad news, it was absolutely terrible.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218951   Where the Archangels go by surveycorpsjean   40k, Hawks/Endeavor, injury, chronic pain, angst, h/c, healing,

“I’m all aloooone, with nobody besiiide meee – can you turn that TV off? Thanks.”

“I’m told you refused multiple offers.”

“Rumi would take in a dead squirrel,” Hawks huffs, scratching his nose on the pillow, going wsh wsh wsh. “I’m not doing that to her, no way in hell. And the commission wanted to put me into the hero equivalent of a nursing home, so fuck that too.”

When Hawks is abandoned by everyone else, Enji offers to bring him home.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153039   That's All You Ever Have to Say by arxaris   10k, Kirishima/Bakugou, light dom/sub, praise kink, sugar daddy,

Maybe a sane person wouldn’t put up with it. They’d probably call the whole thing unhealthy, say that Bakugou should learn to express his feelings. People have suggested to Kirishima in the past that he put his foot down and demand they talk about things. They’ve gritted their teeth as they told him Bakugou was playing games with him, looked at him with pity as if they were cluing him into something everyone knew but him, something truly awful. But of course Kirishima knew. How could he not? Katsuki wasn’t just playing games with him. They were playing games together.

And Kirishima was positively addicted to them.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934046   disarm me by hiuythn   8k, Kirishima/Bakugou, touch-starved, hand fixation,

Bakugou’s hands are made for winning.

They’re made to reach for victory, to grab what they want and refuse to let go.

Bakugou’s hands are not made for holding. They’re not made to cradle, or to help. His hands are calloused and rough. They are not meant to cherish, to be gentle, to be safe.

When he’s not using them to blast his opponents to dust, he keeps them sheathed in his pockets like the weapons they are. A gesture of goodwill—a handshake, from him, would be deadly. His hands are deadly.

And that’s how he likes it.

That is, until Kirishima.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912604   a twisted fate never alters destiny by Watsittoyou   138k, Aizazwa/Yamada, canon-AU, adoption, internalized homophobia, canon character death,

Kicked out and homeless as a hero student wasn't somewhere Aizawa Shouta intended to be, and yet those were the cards he was dealt. Kids like him don't just get second chances handed to them on silver platters, but when he spends his last few hundred yen at Midoriya's cafe, it seems like that's precisely what he gets. Along the way, he gains parents who love him, an idiot he might be sort of in love with, and a future promising trouble thanks to a problem child baby brother.

But the world of heroes is much larger than it seems on the surface, and somehow his green-haired nightmare manages to find his way to the centre of it, all while Shouta tries to navigate his own love life and hero work.

Or, the time Inko's determination to adopt a teenage Aizawa not-so-accidentally lays the groundwork for his future as Eraserhead: serial child adopter, all while uncovering the darker secrets of the villain underworld.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205364   touch too much by h_lovely   9k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining, friends with benefits,

Kirishima had always been touchy. Bakugou has a hard time believing it's anything more than that.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945867   i go where you go by favspacetwink   2k, Kirishima/Bakugou, first time, sharing clothes,

God, handjobs are the fucking best.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753570   Sugar, Spice by Grimmseye   7k, Kirishima/Bakugou, canon-AU, incubus,

Red was the color of passion, of fury, of violence. And for that he offered red candles, red roses, red blood. His veins sang for a fight.

" — what kind of a shitty demon are you?”

It blinked up at him, raising its weight from its haunches. Its head cocked to the side. “Um,” it started. “I'm... an incubus? Master?”

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090270   take your time with me by Shadow_sensei   4k, Kirishima/Bakugou, first time, mutual masturbation,

And then Katsuki steps away, breaking away from Eijirou’s body, as if he’s been shocked, because it’s so much, all at once, and it’s overwhelming and his mind is drifting and it’s almost terrifying, to be so fast to lose his composure, just from a simple touch. Is it a sign of weakness, that he can be pulled into Eijirou’s control so quickly?

No, thinks Katsuki. It’s a sign of trust.

- As the water flows hot and steady over their backs, Katsuki learns that it's okay to let Eijirou take over his heart.  

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12145455   a long time coming by tusslee   1k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining,

There’s nothing soft about a boy like Bakugou, but Kirishima can’t help but wonder if his skin isn’t as smooth as it looks. If his hair isn’t a fluffy mess when he first wakes up in the morning. If his tongue is as sharp as he makes his words out to be. Everything about Kirishima is soft except for his Quirk. What a pair they seem to make.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177596   i love you like the sun came out by unreemarkable   46k, Midoriya/Todoroki,

Todoroki Shouto is untouchable, until he isn't. What comes after goes a little like this.

[In which Todoroki falls, slowly, steadily, with his eyes wide open.]

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12706605   Acceptance by WereKoalaPL   46k, Ojiro/Shinsou, self-harm, denial, self acceptance,

There are many things Mashirao fears, some more so than others. He was always somehow able to deal with them though, through lies, denial, clenching his teeth, and biting his words back. But some things can't be changed or fixed, no matter how much of a fight he will put up.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27090436   (Un)Made by Ashynarr   4k, gen,  

In the aftermath of a slightly different Yakuza Hideout Raid, Izuku and Eri have to come to term with their new life, while Shouta and Toshinori figure out how to help them start on the path to recovery.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27094156   Mass Divided by Volume by The Feels Whale (miscellea)   37k, Ashido/Kirishima/Bakugou, canon-AU, polyamory, asexual character,

It comes as a surprise to a lot of people, finding out that Bakugo is part of a loving triad and has been for years; including Bakugo.

Especially Bakugo.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051973   i just want somebody near me by theyaremycrocs   3k, Kirishima/Bakugou, bed sharing, hugging,

Kirishima likes the dorms.

He really does - they’re convenient, they’re safe and he’s in the room right next to his best friend’s. They have movie nights and game nights and there’s never a dull moment when he’s there, but- he misses his moms.

The Kirishimas are a very affectionate family. Kirishima’s no stranger to physical contact. He welcomes it, even; a hug when he leaves for school, a hug when he gets home from school. Before he goes to bed. It’s comforting, and it’s normal, and Kirishima… well, he misses it.

And that’s how Kirishima finds himself stood in front of Bakugo’s door at midnight on a Friday, worn down from the school week, desperate enough to go to his best friend’s room to ask him for a hug.

-------

“You’ve been in front of my door for the past five minutes,” Bakugo tells him flatly, fingers tapping impatiently on his arms. “What.”

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27097288   hope that soul is changing by Sour_Idealist   3k, Hawks/Endeavor, past domestic violence,

“You’ve been working with Endeavor lately, isn’t that right?” she asks instead.

He laughs, trying for casual and missing it by at least a city block. “That what this is about, huh?” he asks. “The, uh, the missus and the side piece?”

Her own cup of tea is three-quarters full; she takes a sip and sets it down. “Well, is it?” she asks.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176774   Sunshine & Lightning by splot   4k, Kaminari/Shinsou, scars,

Shinsou’s still staring, mouth agape, eyes wide when Kaminari finally frees himself from his shirt, eyes darting nervously from person to person. “What? Why are you all staring?”

“Dude… what is that?” Kirishima asks, blunt, but not rude – concerned. Kaminari follows everyone’s gaze to his midsection, blinks a moment, and then laughs, flapping his shirt at Kirishima.

“It’s nothing, bro. It’s just like a heat rash kinda thing I get sometimes ‘cause of my quirk. No biggie, it’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

---

There's a side-effect to Kaminari's quirk that he keeps hidden. Shinsou finds out.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26640583   From the Heavens Into Heaven by Epsilon110, Jade_Kitsune   25k, Midoriya/all the girls, BAMF!midoriya, blindfolds, truth or dare,

Izuku Midoriya has always considered himself lucky beyond belief, ever since All Might told him that he could be a hero. Time and time again, his luck paid off, allowing him to survive villain attacks and win competitions and exercises. When the hero students of Class A and B returned to the Wild, Wild Pussycats' forest for another training camp, Izuku had hoped his luck would hold out.

In a way, it did. Still, Izuku isn't sure how long he can last in the hot springs surrounded by every woman in both Hero classes.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13278729   One Step Closer by tusslee   50k, Kirishima/Bakugou, AU, injury, angst, physical theraphy, recovery, disability,

Hope flickers pitifully beside the fire of determination inside of him. Whatever it takes, he decides, he’ll prove them all wrong.

- Injured in a car accident, Bakugou Katsuki has to learn a new way of life as he slowly, but surely recovers with the (unwanted) help from his physical therapist, Kirishima Eijirou.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15090842   Love So Soft by Fanficismything   11k, Kirishima/Bakugou, A/B/O,

Kirishima found out completely on accident.

He would never have guessed who had been taking his clothes to nest with.

He absolutely never would have guessed who but damn if it didn’t give him all sort of warm and fuzzy feelings to keep him warm at night or literally any time he thought about it.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348138   In your face, Endeavor! by caelestisxyz   2k, Yoarashi/Todoroki, semi-public sex,

This is hands down the most disrespectful thing Inasa has ever done in his life. Here he is, tailored suit and brand new tie, sitting amongst the city's elites while he's roughly face fucking the No.1 Hero's son.  

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19884178   Learn You (Bit by Bit) by deviance   5k, Kirishima/Bakugou, 5+1,

Five things Kirishima learns about Bakugou, and one thing Bakugou teaches Kirishima about himself.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096087   Polish Me Up by deviance   2k, gen, touch-starved, platonic cuddling,

If Bakugou had known of his own weakness, perhaps things would've ended up differently, his pride dictating that he hide anything that might be a vulnerability. However, he hadn't know about this weakness, in fact the damn squad were the ones to cause him to discover it, so keeping it hidden was not even a possibility.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19244770   Thursday by CitrusVeins   7k, Kirishima/Bakugou, first time, panic attack,

Everything with Bakugou, at least when it came to intimacy, had to be slow and calculated. Once Kirishima barely skimmed a hand under the hem of his shirt and the contact of skin on skin startled Bakugou so much that he jumped back like he was burned. It was one of the few times Kirishima actually got an apology from him, as he admonished himself for ruining 'the moment.' Kirishima was, of course, fine with it. It just meant that they found a limit they could work on together or not at all depending on what Bakugou wanted.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16435358   Broken, but Still Good by deviance   75k, Kirishima/Bakugou, AU, A/B/O, torture, PTSD, non-con, angst, recovery,

“He’s just too combative. I know he was recovered from an illegal Alpha fighting ring and we can’t do much for that, but he’s not receptive to any of our attempts to help. He instantly starts fights with any Alphas that try to reach out to him, even if they aren’t posturing, and if we try to send in an Omega to keep him calm he somehow manages to freak out even more.”

“All we can do it be patient and provide him a safe environment to heal. We don’t know how long he was held captive nor what sort of things he’s had to do to survive.”

“But if no one can get close to him, how are we supposed to help?”

“Have we tried sending in a Beta? If we have one that would be capable of withstanding his quirk, it may be the best middle ground.”

“Red Riot, one of my previous students might be able to. Kirishima’s quirk is hardening and should be strong enough to withstand the Alpha’s explosions. Plus his personality tends to let him make friends with just about everyone. He was on the infiltration team too, so he’s at least minimally aware of the situation. He’d have to be briefed on the specifications, of course.”

“He sounds like the best chance we’ve got."

“Can’t hurt to try, I guess."

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20660567   no door left unopened by sprx77   2k, Midoriya/everyone, kissing, polyamory,

Izuku passes One for All to all of his friends and they pass it back. The successor of peace is not a title worn lightly and they're all old enough to know that some things are more important than hero rankings, some contingencies more than worth it.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/19974307   No Secrets to Success by kingdoms   7k, Kirishima/Bakugou,

“Hey!” Kirishima says brightly, stepping sideways to be directly in the guy’s path. “I know you!”

“Fuck off,” the guy snarls, pushing past him and barely slowing down.

Kirishima is forced to start his first semester at UA two months late. Somehow he still meets Bakugou Katsuki, makes the most of those two months, and gains a tutor, a best friend, and an exciting way to scandalize his new peers. Canon AU where Kirishima and Bakugou become friends before Kirishima meets the rest of Class 1-A.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24036481   In the Lap of the Gods by theyalwayssay   10k, Shinsou/Kaminari, AU, top!kaminari,

“Don’t keep me waiting.” Denki swallowed away the saliva that had built up in his throat. Only a minute ago his mouth had been parched as leather; now, he was struggling not to drool. “I want an audience with the Oracle. I’d prefer that over just speaking into this fog.” “You already have it,” the voice said. Denki’s head lolled back on his neck, spine tingling at the feeling of someone murmuring deep into his ears. “God, I-” “Do not call for them. There are no gods here. There is only you and I.”

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826065   A Short Sharp Shock by theyalwayssay   17k, Shinsou/Kaminari, first time, quirk kink,

In which Kaminari blows the whole dorm, but not in the way that you're thinking.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15195866   Catch Me Red-Handed by theyalwayssay   10k, Kirishima/Bakugou, first time,

When Bakugou gets hit with a color-change Quirk which reacts to his mood, it’s up to Kirishima to figure out a meaning behind the shifting colors speckled across his boyfriend’s face. The solution is, of course, to cross examine the colors to a mood ring color chart. Let’s see: orange is indignant, blue-green is flirtatious, and red is...oh.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657547   Pass it On by theyalwayssay   14k, Kirishima/Bakugou, sexual frustration, truth or dare, crossdressing,

RED ALERT: Bakugou can't jerk off because he'll explode his own dick off. Pass it on.

Mina spreads a rumor around Class 1A about a certain Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima is tasked with taking his own life and dignity in his hands and finding out of it's true. Party hijinks ensue.

(Spoiler alert: dignity and his life aren't the only things Kirishima takes in his hands)

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090492   Stray Italian Greyhound by ArgetCross   5k, Jirou/Taoyorozu, pining,

That was the wretched start of it all.

Momo couldn't stop thinking about sex. At first, she thought it was just because she was mortified by the idea of anyone figuring out that she now could make condoms. She kept expecting someone, Kaminari or Sero, to come up to her and ask her. One night she even had a terrible dream where she was back in a practical exam with Todoroki and, instead of producing matryoshka dolls, she accidentally flung a bunch of condoms at Aizawa-sensei.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726360   a secret quest for common sense by jurassicqueer (gaybirdkid)   23k, Sero/Todoroki, pining, touch-starved, self harm, clothes sharing,

One way or another, Hanta finds himself being drawn back to Todoroki again and again. The boys learn to lean on each other.

"Hanta gives himself five seconds to fully experience whatever warm emotion is swelling in his chest. It expands like hot air, pressing on his aching ribs and crawling up his throat; it worms between his heart and lungs and curls up like a contented cat. Hanta isn’t sure how he knows, but he’s sure the feeling’s name is Todoroki."

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15147833   Like Seaglass by IvoryCrow   10k, Inko/Yagi, AU, mythology, pirates,

The woman curls her lip, tightening her grip on her seal skin. “You will not steal my pelt, I will not be your bride.”

Toshinori can only promise, raising his hands in surrender. “I will not take it from you.”

His honesty must satisfy her because she moves closer, pressing her pelt against the gash on his side. The selkie blinks at him curiously, watching for his reactions. She’s familiar, like someone from a dream. When she pulls away, the wound is healed, leaving behind a scar shaped like a river of stars.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/15124007   Lies in the guise of truth by Jeanemon   44k, Inko/Yagi, fluff,

All Might is the world's #1 hero, the symbol of peace, the pillar that the world knows they can stand on. He dominates every room he's in, from press conferences to his Hero Agency.

It's pretty easy for everyone to overlook Yagi Toshinori, All Might's 'quirkless secretary'. But he's still there.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14574993   call the fire department (i'm burning up with love) by Edgedancer   22k, Todoroki/Midoriya, families of choice,

An (abridged) list of things Todoroki Shouto did not have before U.A.: Loud neighbors. Fire alarms. Friends. Midoriya Izuku.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808918   Conversations with a Cryptid by AMournfulHowlInTheNight   67k, gen, meta fic,

The man was over a century old. There had to be more to it. In hindsight, it hadn’t been one of Izuku’s better ideas.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440632   what we deserve by bwyn   5k, gen, reconciliation,

“He said I needed to be faster changing the strength of my quirk output.”

“Like Midoriya?”

“Yeah.”

“That bar is so hiiigh,” Ashido groans, which, true, there’s no higher bar than the kid they’d taken to calling Small Might behind his back.

The scream of Mineta cartwheeling through the air serves as Kirishima’s cue to step up next. Kaminari rests a hand over his heart, mirrored by Ashido and Sero.

“May your soul find peace,” says Kaminari.

***

A few have noticed a change in Bakugou's attitude, and that maybe it's thanks to Midoriya.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25194799   skin by rae_tnub   4k, gen, angst, h/c, scars,

What was it All Might said once? ”A scar is proof you’ve survived!” or some bullshit like that.

Where’s the proof of Katsuki’s survival?

Where are the marks from when he was little and injured himself training to have as much control over his quirk as he does?

Where are the burns that prove Dabi’s fingertips burnt the back of his neck?

Where are the cuts that prove the muzzle forced on him at the Sports Festival was strapped on too tightly?

Katsuki digs his fingernails through the fabric of his pockets and into his thighs.

It doesn’t matter if he bleeds. 

There’s not going to be any proof of it anyway.

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22245835   Mild-Mannered School Teacher/Adrenaline-Junkie Vigilante by JajaLala   136k, Fuyumi/Miruko, secret identity,

Fuyumi Todoroki was stressed. She was always the peacekeeper, the ice-quirk user who calms the hot-headed members of her family. What was she supposed to do when she was frustrated, and couldn't calm herself down?

Go onto the streets and become a vigilante, of course.

Follow this mild-mannered school teacher/adrenaline-junkie vigilante as she befriends the mysterious Dabi, tries not to get caught by the persistent Miruko, and through it all struggles to keep her family together.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/22440598   White Lies Always Blow Up by Milligramme   93k, Bakugou & Todoroki, Kirishima/Bakugou, fake dating, slow burn, practise kissing, injury,

Ever since Endeavor was forced to retire, his new hobby seems to be nagging his son about his hero career and nonexistent love life. Worse, it seems that Todoroki's entire family is dead set on helping him find a girlfriend and give love a chance.

Desperate to make them stop, Todoroki lets his classmates convince him that the best solution is to fake date someone. And no one's better suited for the job than his dear friend Bakugou, right? If even Midoriya says it's a good idea, there's no way it could possibly go wrong!

Follow Todoroki and Bakugou on their journey to find out in how many ways it could possibly go wrong.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25663108   give me compliments (i said give me compliments) by wonhaebunny   3k, gen,

“It’s just cute,” Ashido is telling them as she walks into the classroom. “Like, when you compliment someone and they get flustered so easily, don’t you think it’s endearing?” Kaminari blinks. “Like Bakugou?” he asks slowly.

-

1-a realises that katsuki is really, really bad at receiving compliments. exposure therapy ensues.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18803488   Tell Me I'm Yours by arxaris   6k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining, praise kink, light dom/sub, friends to lovers,

Bakugou was going a little crazy. He could grudgingly admit that it was at least in part his own fault; moving in with his best friend maybe hadn’t been the best idea. At first, it sounded great. The rent would be cheaper, grocery shopping and cooking for two would be way more convenient, and it would be easier for the two of them to hang out. The only thing was, Bakugou forgot to consider how the joys of moving in with his aforementioned best friend might be dampened by the fact that he was madly in love with him.

Alternatively: Kirishima Eijirou is a goddamn tease and there's no way he doesn't know what he's doing.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/13635312   Would you be my fucking boyfriend? by Claus_Lucas   3k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining, bed sharing,

Unsure what to do about his crush on Bakugou, Kirishima finally decides to ask him if he’s ever liked someone – that way. His answer turns out to be a confession in of itself.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24632389   By Dawn, Promise Me by chezka   9k, Kirshima/Bakugou, hanahaki, h/c,

Kirishima looked soft, right then, and warm and beautiful and inviting, open in his clear acceptance of anything Katsuki might have been there to lay on him, and Katsuki was in love with him.

He loved him.

And it was killing him.

The universe could be especially cruel, Katsuki had come to realize.

or, with flowers blooming in his chest and threatening his future, Katsuki decides a last conversation is long overdue

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430923   Eyes Like Dragon-Fire by Dragonire   108k, Kirishima/Bakugou, au, dragon!irishima, curses, h/c,

The world beneath his palms was sharp and painful and unforgiving.

Kirishima didn’t even try to hold back the yell that broke out from between his lips, if only for some way to release the pain that was building inside; smoke billowing out of his lungs in guttural cries that didn’t sound like him at all.

“I’m sorry,” the mage cried before him, her brow drenched in sweat while her hands were drenched in thick crimson blood, just as Kirishima’s were where he dug his nails into the stone beneath him; blunted fingers giving away to the strength of the earth, over and over, searching for a reprieve from the volcano erupting in his chest.

Pain. Agony. Torture. There was no stopping this.

Or: Kirishima is cursed to become a dragon and is found by one Bakugo Katsuki, who doesn’t realise his dragon wasn’t always a dragon and needs his curse broken.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146635   Moment of Truth by Fanficismything   104k, Kirishima/Bakugou, AU, fake dating, pining,

Faced with deportation from Japan, high strung Bakugo Katsuki accepts a marriage of convenience with his partner and co-worker, Kirishima Eijirou. A suspicious immigration officer has him playing along on a trip to Kirishima's family home for his birthday, and is suddenly thrust into the middle of many, many eager friends and relatives, all delighted to know Kirishima's fiance. The longer he stays and sees Kirishima in his element, the more Bakugo unpacks his own feelings on the matter, and on Kirishima himself.

A fanfiction based on the 2009 movie The Proposal that turned into its own storyline and lovingly stuffed full of cliches.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442488   5 + 1 by kazhan   24k, Kirishima/Bakugou, 5+1, first time,

The five times Kirishima made the first move + the one time Bakugou blew his mind.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051885   Flinch by MermaidMayonnaise   17k Todoroki/Midoriya, touch-starved,

Shouto’s hatred of touching people and being touched could easily be traced back to his childhood. - A high school graduation fic detailing how one step in front of the other is the basis of a journey. Once you’ve taken hundreds and thousands and millions of steps, you can look back and marvel at how far you’ve come.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313439   a slight omission by ValkyrieGail     4k, Hawks/Enji,  

Enji thought he would be another one of Hawks’ achievements; another firm notch on the bedpost of Hawks’ illicit affairs. Little did he know that he was the first and only notch after a terrible assumption gone wrong.

The one where Hawks and Enji hook-up, and Enji didn’t realize Hawks was a virgin until after the fact.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434113   Simmer Down by ValkyrieGail    9k, Hawks/Enji, bottom!endeavour, 

Enji and Hawks have been hooking up for a while, and with a lazy day to themselves, they take time to explore a new facet of their physical relationship.

Hawks finds a fresh meaning to the term ‘hero worship’, while Enji indulges in enjoying his partner in new ways. 

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606219    troquer by Shippeh   4k, Kaminari/Bakugou/Kirishima, bodyswap, threesome, 

Denki gets to top- unless it doesn't count because it's not his body? He's not really sure, but he's not going to look a gift-horse in the mouth, or whatever.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/11881836    Your Hands Protect the Flames by Anonymous    74k, graphic rape, rape recovery, h/c, amputation, minor sellf-harm, 

For as long as Bakugou can remember people have been telling him to 'swallow his pride.' But no one's ever told him how he's supposed to sew his throat back up after the fact.

After an assault leaves Bakugou and his classmates reeling, they all have to figure out how to pick up the pieces and move on.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304276    high and low by rronanllynch   4k, Iida/Zero, drug use, shotgunning, 

based off my own tweet because i'm the only one in this damn house that does anything:

"sero smoking w iida for the first time and it turns out iida knows exactly what he’s doing and sero falls in love immediately"

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27067372    Incompatible (But only in Theory) by cutiefemdom    5k, Kirishima/Bakugou, a/b/o, alpha/alpha, rutting, mutual pining, 

Kirishima tried to ignore the heat that rose up his neck as he felt the toy stretch beneath his fingers, the material torn far past its limits by Bakugou's growing knot.

"Dang, I guess it's a size too small, huh?"

-

Kirishima helps Bakugou through his first rut. You know, like any good best friend would.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789139    this house of cards by justhavesex    23k, Hawks/Enji, AU, family fluff, 

In which Hawks, age 22, successfully becomes a home wrecking sugar baby.

Except, not really.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746485    Northern Lights by quietfaun   11k, Hawks/Enji, 

There's someone in his apartment.

With one feather clutched in his hand, Keigo steps into his living room. “Who’s here?” He calls, voice knocked severe and low. “I saw you moving. Come out.”

A beat of silence.

And then a soft, “Hawks,” comes from the direction of his bedroom. Standing in the doorway, lit only by the moon and the ambient glow of the city, is Enji Todoroki.  

.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23866006    Cotyledon by Sholosha    232k, Midoriya/Todoroki/Shinsou, slow burn, pining, UST, poly, 

It's his second year at UA, and Shinsou is finally, finally, transferring to the hero course. He's ready, he thinks, or hopes— either way, it doesn't matter, 'cause he's going to show everyone he's got what it takes. And it also doesn't matter that the longer he spends in the program, the more he can't stop thinking about a certain freckled wannabe-friend, and the more he's noticing that a certain stoic classmate is paying him a lot more attention than he'd like.

Whatever. Irrelevant. He's here to be a hero, not make friends. Even if they would be the first ones he's made in...ever. But it's his second year, and he's going to make it count by focusing on what's important.

His name is Shinsou Hitoshi, and he's going to be a goddamn hero.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27239734    keep it coming by bakunonist    35k, Hawks/Enji, friends with benefits, mutual pining, 

Hawks referenced what happened between them last night so casually, so offhandedly that Enji is filled with hope that maybe, just maybe, they’re actually on the same page:

They were drunk, and they made a mistake.

But most importantly, no matter how good it was—it’s not happening again.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415918    after midnight by stereonightss    1k, Kirishima/Bakugou, first time, gentlest falling in love,

“Soap,” Katsuki says, holding out his hand, and just like reading minds Eijirou’s got the bottle ready, half-way reaching out. Katsuki’s hand catches his forearm instead of the bottle, hot and slick and steaming in the gap of the showers’ spray. A simple miscalculation, an innocent touch—but a lingering one, rough pale fingers dragging down the length of Eijirou’s arm, over his now trembling hand to pluck the bottle from his fingers.

Touches like that makes Eijirou wonder, did he know how I felt in high school? Does he know now?

-

Neither of them fell in love; it’s as though they always felt it deep inside. Or, the night it all came together. 

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929647   red oleander by hupsoonheng    18k, Kirishima/Bakugou, hanahaki, pining, 

For his crimes of being selfish, mean, and with no love in his heart, Bakugou Katsuki is cursed by a mysterious old woman's hanahaki-like quirk. And because he is selfish, mean, and with more love in his heart than he knows what to do with, he lets it almost kill him.

-

my first bnha fic and the first writing i've done all year! (thanks, 2020.) it's also my first hanahaki fic, and i wanted to take more of a hans christian anderson take on the trope.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092318   Wrapped Up by Mavericksy    21k, Sero/Todoroki, bondage, teenage crushes in adulthood, 

When Todoroki and Sero reunite as pro heroes for a friendly night of drinking, a confession is made that takes their paths in a direction neither of them were expecting.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693374    hummingbird boy by gummyconcrete, what_a_loser    8k, Kirishima/Bakugou, pining, 

Bakugou has dimples.

They’re not noticeable. Not by much, not with the way he scowls to hide them. But Kirishima still catches them, the first time he makes Bakugou crack a grin after he trips and fails a new stunt on his skateboard.

When Kirishima sees it—it’s a tiny dip in his cheeks, and one under his chin. They’re out in the sun, and small shadows tuck into his dimples charmingly. He’s grinning wide, boyish and rude and unhinged. He’s laughing, too, and the sound is brash.

Or; Kirishima learning what it really means to yearn.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709468    marry me by shiggay    5k, Kirishima/Bakugou, 

“Marry me.”

“We’re fifteen, idiot.”

“C’mon, marry me.”

“Not right now,” Katsuki looks up from his notebook, leaning over to tap his pencil on the papers in front of Eijirou. “You have more equations to solve.”

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25274074    On Letting Go by meeokie    26k, Midoriya/Todoroki/Shinsou, quirk play, light BDSM, forced masturbation, 

Deku moved to shake Hitoshi’s waiting hand but paused, a dangerous calculating look flashing before he drew back an inch. “Well, couldn’t you just tell someone to come? Wouldn’t a body respond instantly to that command?”

Hitoshi grinned and shrugged his shoulders, knowing all too well how fast he could reduce someone with something like that. How fast he had already, with specific clients.

(Chapter 1: Deku/Shinsou, Chapter 2: Deku/Shinsou/Shouto)

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142273    Night Vision Binoculars by surveycorpsjean    45k, Hawks/Enji, friends with benefits, feral behaviour, light BDSM, birdy hawks, 

Hawks is acting strange, and Enji is going to find out why.

Oh, and something about ghosts, but not really. 

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/14296956    Tender Violence by Leticheecopae   10k, Bakugou/Shinsou, accidental rivals to lovers, consesual mind control, 

Bakugo has an annoying habit of training well into the night, and for someone who gets as little sleep as Shinso, it is a pain in the ass; but third years have unlimited access, so what can he do? Fed up one night, he finally decides it's about time he figured out why the bombastic blonde is out destroying the training areas so late into the night; he doesn't expect to help him deal with the reason. 

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#notdead recs #bnha #rec list #boku no hero academia

[maple-writes]

WHG 14: Day 3 (Cirrus)

whg tag list: @ratracechronicler @concealeddarkness13 , @nightskywriter , @rhikasa , @the-moving-finger-writes , @aeslin-writes (Thanks for Vincent, he was fun to write with!) @knmartinshouldbewriting , @pen-of-roses @timefirewrites 

###

Never had I missed having curtains so much as when dawn came and it was too bright to go back to sleep too early in the morning. I grumbled to myself as I’d gotten up but quieted down when some of the others gave me a disapproving look. I might have already gotten on Zenith’s bad side yesterday and it might be a good idea to stop doing that if everything as going to go well. He and I hadn’t spoken much since we got here and while he seemed to trust Asher well enough I wasn’t so sure he felt the same way about me.

The cold air on my face made it easy enough to wake up a little more, the sunlight still morning weak and blue-toned. I yawned and stretched. Something down the mountain slope caught my eye and I paused. A thin ribbon of smoke and the faint orange flicker of a campfire. I squinted, but  couldn’t make out much more. Looked like I could make it there and back in a couple hours most though. Maybe I could get there and back before anyone noticed I was gone.

Carefully navigating the drops and crevices of the side of the mountain, I slowly made my way closer to where I’d seen the fire. A sharp wind brought chill and I swore under my breath. This better turn out to be worth it.

I slowed when I reached the trees and the fire appeared a little further into the forest. As I got closer, thankfully there only seemed to be one tribute seated next to the fire. If he turned out to be hostile I could probably get away from one person, but if there had been more… Probably should have thought about that before climbing down a mountain.

After making up my mind to talk to him, I stepped out from the trees. “Hello.” He tensed, looking me over cautiously, but seemed to relax at least a little when I held out empty hands. “I’m Cirrus. You?”

“Vincent.”

Awkward silence built as neither of us seemed to know what to say, filled with the sporadic crackle of Vincent’s fire. I really hadn’t thought this through, had I? At least he didn’t seem like he were about to stab me or anything. He’d probably have stood up by now if he wanted to hurt me.

I approached, as casually as I could make myself appear, and sat down beside Vincent’s fire. Not too far, but not to close to him either. He watched me, not quiet meeting my face and not quite seeming to know whether or not I was a threat.

“What,” Vincent frowned. “What are you doing?”

That was a very good question. This was harder than I’d thought.

I shrugged. “Warming up.” I held a hand out to the campfire’s heat. “You make this yourself?” I paused as he nodded. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

More silence. I switched hands, turning it over in front of the low flames. The quiet didn’t feel as awkward this time, both of us more focused on the fire than each other. At least, pretending to be, stealing curious and wary glances at each other when we thought the other wasn’t looking. I frowned. Why was this so hard? How in the hell had Asher managed to make two separate allies in training? What did they even talk about?

“Hey,” I glanced towards him again. “How long you think it’ll be before they throw something fucked up at us?” Out loud that didn’t sound as nonthreatening a conversation starter as I’d hoped.

Vincent returned my look. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” I huffed. “It’s been quiet, nothing disastrous seems to have happened yet. No mass slaughter, nothing like that.” He still looked confused, eyebrows furrowing. “Have you been living under a rock or something?” My jaw tightened. I was supposed to be friendly damn it.

He didn’t answer right away, slowly focusing back on the fire. “No, I, I’m just not from around here.”

That would explain it. “Neither am I, really.” I frowned again. Maybe I was oversharing, but at least it would fill the quiet. “Though at this point its not likely I’ll be going back home any time soon.”

Curiosity started to replace the quiet caution on Vincent’s face. “Where’s that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.” I half-smiled. No one seemed to believe me when I told them. “But I lived above the Pacific until my mother turned me into a human and put me here.”

Vincent didn’t seem at least immediately sceptical. “I ended up in district 4 by accident. Someone made a mistake, and me and a couple others were teleported over. We might not even be in the same world.” He grinned, glancing my way. “How’s that for unbelievable?”

Slowly, we started to talk more, sharing stories about our homes under the gentle creak of snow-laden branches. Eventually, there was a lull in the conversation, and this time the silence was almost comfortable. What time was it now? I yawned and my stomach growled. Probably should have eaten before I left, but I hadn’t expected to be gone so long.

Vincent reached into the bag by his side.

“Here,” he leaned over, holding out something carefully wrapped in clean cloth.

I got up and closed the distance between us, taking it as I sat back down. Pulling back the cloth, it was some kind of food, one I didn’t recognize but looked appetizing enough. This was a good sign, inviting me so close, giving me something like this, showing this kind of care. In a place like this, it was vulnerable move.

I smiled. “Thanks.” I started to eat, chewing thoughtfully. Seemed I could trust him after all. “Hey,” I looked up, catching his attention again and dropping to a whisper, hopefully soft enough not to be overheard by any nearby mics. “I’m not sure if you heard anything in training, but there’s a bunch of us planning a way to escape, alive. You want to join us?” I nodded towards the slopes. “We’re camped out on the mountain. I can bring you there. I figured even if the others couldn’t pull of the break out it’s at least warmer at night.”

“I, there’s someone else here that I want to find too. Unless she’s there already, Cass.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know that name, but I’m sure the other’s wouldn’t mind helping you find her.”

Vincent thought for a moment, glancing between me and the mountainside. “Okay. You may have sold me on the warmth.” He stood, dusting snow and foliage off his clothes. “Finish eating and I’ll pack up.”

##

If I had been paying more attention yesterday I might have remembered the nice route that Zenith took us on instead of the rocky, uneven path Vincent and I picked our way across. It wasn’t long before I’d given up trying to avoid complaining, grumbling and swearing every time a rock shifted or I slipped on a patch of ice. Vincent laughed, joking and teasing as we made the least graceful ascent.

The slope steepened and I went first, gripping onto whatever I could to try and clamber up the hill of rock and snow and ice. My grip slipped and I swore as I fell. Pain shot through my arm as it scraped against a sharp-edged rock. I landed at the bottom of the slope and hissed, clutching at the already-bleeding wound.

“What happened?” Vincent rushed over, staring at my arm with wide eyes. “You’re hurt, are you okay? That’s bleeding, we have to, to clean it or s-something.” He stiffened, like a deer caught in the middle of the road, or Asher when he was starting to slip. “If it get, gets infected th-then, it—”

“Hey, look at me,” I spoke loud enough to bring his attention back to me. “Slow down, one thing at a time, alright?” He nodded, and I pointed at his bag. “We can wrap in in something and someone can look at it later.”

I pulled my arm out of my jacket sleeve and pushed the shirt out of the way, wincing whenever I had to move the arm. It didn’t look too deep though, enough to bleed and maybe enough to need stiches at some point, but not as bad as it could be. Vincent returned with some bandaging, probably found from sometime after the bloodbath, and I held my arm as still as I could for him.

He took my arm and his face scrunched. “What’s this?”

“Huh?” I twisted my neck to try and see what he was looking at.

A small, shiny thing sat half-embedded in the tissue. Too smooth to be a rock, and too shiny and metallic to be a bone, or anything organic.

“I, I’m going to take it out.” Vincent looked up, waiting until I gave a nod. “I’ll try to be quick.”

He dug into the smaller pouch on what looked to be a first aid kit, producing a pair of tweezers. I watched as he got a grip on the object and gently pulled it out of the wound.

A cannon fired, echoing through the arena.

That wasn’t for me, was it? When I looked back at Vincent he seemed to be wondering the same thing.

“I’m going to keep this,” He said, tucking it away in a pocket. “It looks familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

As soon as my arm was hastily bandaged, we found a better route and continued our way up the mountain. This time though, Vincent was quiet. He turned the little thing around in his hands, squinting it and holding it in different positions to get the best light. The sun was already overhead, at least noon.

Vincent gasped. “The trackers!”

I paused, turning to face him. “Trackers?”

He nodded, holding out the little object in his hand. “That’s what this is. It looks like some kind of chip, something to track location and vital signs.” He stared down at it, flat in his palm. “Maybe it lost signal when it dislodged.”

I blinked. “So it thinks I’m dead?”

“Maybe.” He pocketed the tracker again. “I can’t be sure though.”

“I mean, if my picture gets projected tonight that would be pretty damning.” I waited for him to catch up before starting to walk again. “We’ll have to tell the others, this could be something.”

After Asher and the others chew my head off for disappearing all morning anyway.

#whg 14 #writeblr hunger games #i did not mean for this to be as long as it ended up but I was vibing with it so yeah

[somethingvaguetodo]

Liquid Luck

Ladybug enlists Chat Noir's help in decoding the remaining ingredients for the power-up transformation potions. Together, they work on creating them, and possibly destroying the barriers between them. Read on AO3 here

~~~

Chapter 1: Green

Ladybug sat cross-legged on the roof of Le Palais Garnier under an overcast sky, stirring the contents of a large black cauldron. She was surrounded by piles and cartons of ingredients, some mundane kitchen items, and others that were more unique.

Chat Noir touched down next to her, and she glanced up at his puzzled expression. "Oh, professor, can I be excused? I left my book in Gryffindor tower."

"Har har," Ladybug intoned, gesturing for him to sit next to her. "And stop pretending you're a Gryffindor." Chat scowled at her but settled in, sinking into a similar cross-legged position and peering curiously into the cauldron. Ladybug reached across him for a sprig of mint, tossing it into the pot before grinding in some black pepper.

"Are you making soup?" Chat asked. He tried to dip a claw in, looking to take a taste, but Ladybug slapped his hand away.

"No, you were right earlier," Ladybug told him. "It's Potions class."

She turned to face him fully, letting the potion in front of her settle. "I used up my last aqua macaron running from Miracle Queen's bees. Do you have any aqua cheese left?"

Chat shrugged, but unzipped his side pocket and removed a carton. Ladybug sighed as he opened it, forever upset about his pocket space. Together they looked inside. Most of the colored wedges were full, but there was only a bite left of the green one that allowed an aquatic power up. "Looks like I have enough for one more transformation," Chat answered. "So you're making more potions?"

"Yep," Ladybug chirped, handing him a piece of paper bearing Master Fu's notes. "The grimoire was written in runes that only guardians could read, so luckily Master Fu translated it all before passing the guardianship. Because I took a look at it and have no idea what it says."

"So these are the ingredients for each potion?" Chat asked, reading the list.

Ladybug nodded. "The base of the potion is the same each time, but there are a few extra ingredients that need to be added at the end to make it specific for each transformation. Even translated to French, the ingredients are still kind of in code. See here," she pointed to the ingredients listed beside the green dot, "'branch from the dragon king's garden' is seaweed, and 'secret kept in a shell' is a pearl."

As she told him, she picked a sheet of seaweed out of one container, offering it to Chat. He scrunched his nose in disgust, and Ladybug laughed, dropping it into the cauldron. The potion inside emitted a faint green glow.

Chat's eyes were wide with wonder as he watched the potion, and Ladybug couldn't help but smile. "Here," she said, "you add the next ingredient." She handed him a small box.

He popped it open to see a small pearl inside. "Where'd this come from?"

Ladybug shrugged. "No one said being a guardian comes cheap."

Chat sighed as he pinched the pearl carefully in his claws. "You need to tell me these things so I can buy them." He dropped the pearl in the potion and it hissed, the green glowing brighter. "What other ridiculous ingredients do you need?"

"Actually," Ladybug began, turning away from the potion to face Chat, "I'm not really sure." She reached for the ingredient list she had given Chat earlier. "Master Fu gave me this translation, but it doesn't say what the ingredients are, exactly."

Chat squinted at the list. "These are pretty strange. He didn't give you any clues?"

Ladybug shook her head. "No. And I can't ask Tikki or Wayzz or anyone else because the recipes are always kept secret from the kwamis, in case they end up in the hands of an enemy."

"Maybe I can help out?" Chat sounded hopeful, and Ladybug felt a weight lift off her shoulders. As much as she tried to hide it from Chat - and everyone else - the stress of becoming the guardian was starting to pile up. As of now she didn't have to worry about making the other power-up potions, but it was best not to leave it until an emergency. And Chat, who was always so eager to help and be included, was the only person she knew she could trust with this.

Ladybug reached over and took Chat's hand, giving it a light squeeze. "I'd love it if you would help me with this." In the silence of the rooftop, with the soft green glow reflecting in Chat's eyes, Ladybug felt some of her walls crumbling down. "It's pretty scary having to tackle all of the new guardian responsibilities alone. I know Fu was training me for this, but I never thought it was going to happen this soon. And trying to balance this with my personal life..." she trailed off, not sure what to make of the look in Chat's eyes. "It's just a lot."

The silence hung between them for a moment, but it was comfortable. Chat squeezed her hand, and slid so that their fingers were intertwined. "I want to be there for anything you need, Ladybug." His voice was soft, almost a whisper. "If you need someone to listen, someone to help, or someone to buy expensive potion ingredients, I'm here." He smiled. "I'm your man."

Ladybug smiled, feeling her face flush at his words and trying not to read too much into the warm feeling that pooled in her stomach at the thought that he was hers.

"I know," she answered, not that it had to be said, but just to see how much Chat brightened at hearing it from her.

Chat looked like he wanted to say something else, but after a moment he sent her an easy smile. “So what’s my first job?”

Ladybug disentangled their hands to pick up the ingredient list. “There’s six other potions. Maybe we should split it up?”

Chat scooted closer to read the list from over her shoulder. She could feel the heat of him behind her. “Hmm,” he hummed, and it rumbled in his chest like a purr. “These seem really out there.” He reached around her and pointed to the orange dot. “Like ‘a poison you eat.’ What could that be?”

“I don’t know,” Ladybug answered, turning her head to see just how close he was. He pulled back, but just by a hair. “How about we tackle one potion at a time, and both brainstorm ideas for each clue? Then we can see what works?”

"We can just throw them all in the pot?"

Ladybug laughed, feeling the heaviness between them lessen. "Yeah, it won't hurt to have extra ingredients. We can test every crazy thing you come up with."

Chat grinned, all his teeth showing. "Every single one?"

"Every single one."

Chat rested his chin on her shoulder, and she felt his weight, solid and comfortable. "Which should we work on first?"

"How about blue?" Ladybug suggested. "That's one that we've used before."

"Good call." Chat said. His hair tickled her cheek. "Are we done with the green one?"

Ladybug smiled, moving away from him so that she could look him in the eye. "No, the most important ingredient is missing." She pointed to the paper.

"A tear of joy," Chat read. "What's that code for?"

"Nothing. It's literally a tear of joy. I had to tell Master Fu a bunch of jokes to make him laugh."

"Jokes?" Chat puffed himself up. "Oh, this is exactly what you need me for."

"Chat," Ladybug said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "When have I ever laughed that much at any of your jokes?"

"But I heard a really good one!" Chat jumped to his feet. "Hawkmoth walks into a bar and orders a soixante quinze -"

"Chat, you told me that one last week," Ladybug interrupted him, "when that bartender was akumatized."

Chat tilted his head to the side. "Did I really? Well, let me think of another one."

"Maybe I should tell you mine," Ladybug suggested, also rising to her feet.

"LB, you have many talents, but telling jokes is not one of them." Ladybug glared at him, and Chat gave her a placating smile. "Remember that one about the one legged jockey? It made no sense."

"You make no sense," Ladybug grumbled under her breath. Suddenly struck with an idea, she grinned. "You know what, we don't need jokes for a tear of joy. I know just how to get one."

Without further explanation she pounced, tackling Chat to the rooftop and straddling his hips. Chat looked shocked, and entirely too hopeful. Ladybug didn't allow herself a moment to think about his reaction before digging her fingers into his ribs and tickling him.

Chat immediately started squirming away from her fingers, but she held on, pinning him to the ground as she tickled him mercilessly. Chat panted, hooted, hollered, and laughed uproariously, and Ladybug continued until she saw the first sign of tears in his eyes. She rolled off of him, grabbing a vial with a stopper from her supplies, and holding it up to his eye. Chat wheezed, one hand clutching his stomach, but let her collect a few of his tears.

Ladybug held up the vial in triumph as Chat pushed himself to stand beside her. "You're cruel," he panted, but smiled at her once he caught his breath. "But you know I love it when you get physical with me, m'lady." He winked.

Ladybug felt herself blush, but refused to acknowledge that. "Just be glad I've got enough here for all seven potions." "Aww," Chat cooed, "Does that mean you won't crawl on top of me next time?"

Ladybug smirked, carefully tipping the vial so that only one drop fell into the potion. "That depends on if you are a good kitten."

A column of glowing green light erupted from the cauldron the moment the tear met the surface of the potion. Ladybug watched Chat's reaction through the light, the glow casting his entire face in green shadows.

As the light died down, Ladybug began packing up. She pulled out two large jugs, separating the potion into each before handing one over to Chat. "This is for you. I'm going to bake some into macarons for Tikki. Do you know how to make it into cheese?"

Chat played with his jug, making the potion swirl around. "No, but it seems like a fun project for Plagg and I to work on." Ladybug smiled at his enthusiasm. She piled her extra ingredients loosely into the cauldron, taking a marker and labeling the vial with a bold 'CHAT'S TEARS' before placing it inside.

"Alright, kitty cat," Ladybug placed the ingredient list on top of her pile, and read from the top. "Since we need a tear of joy for each, I think there's only two ingredients we need to figure out per potion. For the blue, it's 'blossom of snow' and 'domesticated cicer'. Think you can handle that?"

Chat gave a nervous chuckle. "Piece of cake." He took out his baton. "This time next week for potions class?"

Ladybug nodded. "Sounds good." She waved to Chat as he gave a salute, and launched off the rooftop. Ladybug waited on the opera house, watching his back grow smaller in the distance. Sharing this with Chat made her feel lighter, and more confident in her position as the new guardian. Tikki had already alluded to the idea that she was now in charge and could make up her own rules, but it was easier and more comfortable to just follow along with the guidelines that were in place for her entire time as a superhero. Sharing one secret with Chat helped her feel like she was taking the reins, and shaping the guardianship into her guardianship.

With a final sigh, Ladybug picked up the cauldron and started toward home.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #mlb #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #love square #My writing

[sign-from-god-complex]

every way that matters

Summary: “They were domestic; they were comfortable; they were happy. Patton and Virgil were Patton and Virgil, but they were never in love.”

Pairing: Queerplatonic moxiety (even if that isn’t how they label it).

Warnings: Homophobic/transphobic/aphobic parents mentioned.

A/N: I hadn’t actually written aromantic Virgil before this which truly is a crime, so I decided I needed to rectify that. Especially considering that, after analogical, moxiety is the relationship I see the most like a qpr.

Tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @mctaetae613 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @kee-and-co @autistic-virgil @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @idosanderssidespromptssometimes 

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

"Do you wanna get married?"

Virgil pauses in the stroking he's doing of Patton's hair—an absent-minded action he's been performing since the moment Patton arrived, plopping down on the couch beside him and sticking their head into his lap. He's not entirely sure he's heard them correctly.

"What?" Virgil ensures to keep his voice level, projecting an aura of calm he may not necessarily feel.

His emotions are darting about inside his chest, kicking at his stomach and pulling apart his ribs and yet Virgil's body remains relaxed. Patton always managed to do that to him.

There's a sigh from Patton—nothing irritated or frustrated as far as Virgil can tell. Just... tired. They've been tired a lot recently. They claimed it was the long hours at work—"You know me, Virge! You don't have to worry!"—and Virgil wished he'd pushed them just a little bit harder on what was really going on.

Patton squints slightly into the overhead lights as they roll over to their back. They're barely able to meet Virgil's eyes but he avoids it anyway, gaze trained on the way the flickering light of the television reflects onto the coffee table.

"I said, do you want to get married?"

"Yeah, see, that's what I thought you said," Virgil frowns, and he's not entirely sure where they are anymore but he's hoping Patton can give him some kind of landmark, "I just don't know why."

They'd never been like... that. Patton and Virgil had been a lot of things, but never that. 

Patton and Virgil had been childhood best friends, sitting together on the swing set, falling off the monkey bars and begging for a chance to visit the other when they're sick. Years filled with muffled giggles spawned from silly jokes, losing teeth and sticking up for each other.

Patton and Virgil had been rebellious teenagers sneaking out to grab milkshakes at 2 am, dying their hair or growing it out, sitting on that same swing set and discovering more about themselves and how they fit together. Years filled with late-night discussions, losing bits of their innocence and learning all the things that, according to their parents, they weren’t supposed to know.

Patton and Virgil had been roommates who barely needed to communicate to understand each other, who could finish each other's sentences but preferred to let the other speak; who have a routine so ingrained that deviation is almost unthinkable. Years filled with soft silence, losing their built-up walls and the safety of knowing the other is always close by.

They were domestic; they were comfortable; they were happy.

Patton and Virgil were Patton and Virgil, but they were never in love.

"My mom called again." Patton's voice is not as shaky as it could have been, Virgil is sure, but it isn't far from it.

With that statement, though, Virgil did have a landmark. In a sea of non-sequiturs and out of the blue proposals, Virgil could always count on Mrs Hart being a transphobic, homophobic, aphobic bitch. Maybe it wasn't a complete explanation, but he’s beginning to see Patton waving at him from his destination—a lantern somewhere in the darkness, guiding him home the way they always did—even if he hasn't yet arrived.

Patton sits up, pulling their head from Virgil's lap with a rush of breath—it sounds pained, the cold of the air around them seeping into their skin. They move back into Virgil's space rather quickly, throwing their legs over Virgil's and tangling them together, draping Virgil's right arm over their shoulders.

If it had been anyone else Virgil would have huffed and pushed them right off, but it wasn't anyone else. It was Patton.

"I can't do it anymore, Virge!" They bury their face into Virgil's hoodie and Virgil tries not to worry about the last time he'd washed it—Patton had seen much worse from him in the past. "I can't sit here again and listen to her drone on and on about settling down with a nice girl and having two point five kids and a white picket fence, I'm going to go insane."

With their last word, Patton grips the front of Virgil's hoodie tight, forcing him to meet their gaze—something desperate, broken and a long time coming.

"And you're you, V! My parents think you're a terrible influence, my brother looks at you like you've hung the moon and you're..." Patton trails off, their face going soft.

Virgil can't tear his eyes away from the way they're looking at him. It's so difficult to figure out what that gaze holds but he thinks it might be love. A different, more nebulous kind of love; one that's impossible to describe but so easy to feel from every way they're pressed together, to regular coffee orders and Not-Date Nights, to the way Patton smiles—big and bright and stupidly proud—when Virgil laughs at one of their puns.

"You're my best friend," they finish and Virgil knows them well enough to know all of the hidden meaning in that, "Why wouldn't I want to marry you?"

They don't love each other like that, but maybe that's okay.

Virgil was sure in a thousand universes, a thousand Pattons were asking the exact same question and none of those Virgils had any more of a choice than he did. 

The hand in Patton’s hair had stilled with their change in position, but Virgil threads it back in now, gently tilting Patton’s downcast gaze to look him in the eye. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah?” Patton’s eyes are wide like somehow they were surprised Virgil had agreed and truly, he wasn’t sure why. Virgil’s quite sure he would do anything for Patton.

And beyond that, Virgil wants it. More than he ever thought himself capable of wanting something so blatantly romantic and sappy. He isn’t so keen on the idea of standing in front of a huge crowd of people, dressed to the nines, proclaiming how much they love each other—that was much too performative for his liking—but he was entranced by the aftermath.

The idea of being married, of coming home to Patton every day, dropping a kiss on their forehead and asking how their day had been… It wasn’t too dissimilar from what they have now but he loves what they have now. He doesn’t ever want that to end.

“Yeah, Pat.” Virgil is surprised by the way he can’t stop himself from smiling, his chest feeling lighter than it had in a long, long time. “I’d love to marry you.”

Patton’s face lights up like the sun. They throw their arms around him, babbling thank you’s and I love you’s and Virgil responds in kind. And in between all the smiles and hugs and chaste kisses, Virgil is hit with the realization that that is something he never thought he would say and have it be true.

Because, though Patton and Virgil may not love each other the way you would expect, they do love each other.

In every way that matters.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #patton sanders #virgil sanders #moxiety #queerplatonic moxiety #lo can write

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Too Good To Be True (part three)

A/N: You get ready to dive into the shipwreck exhibition and start working your dream job. Benjamin is nothing if not proud and supportive, and you finally get to meet the mysterious restoration board director who hand picked you for the project. How exciting, right? *side note, this part contains some of my favorite scenes so far for these two.*

Word Count: 3,847

Warning: more nerdy stuff

The week leading up to the beginning of your new contract sped by at a rapid pace. There’d been plenty of celebration for both of you. Drinks and dinners with Helene and Milo, your family, Leo, and Benjamin’s friends had taken up nearly every night until you were down to just two days before you’d be leaving for London. With no more plans to see anyone else, Benjamin was glad to get you to himself for the remaining time. On the second to last night, he made dinner and took care of the cleanup so that you could finish up your work for the evening. You’d gone into the living room to return to your piles and piles of paperwork, music playing softly in the background as you perused the pages. He smiled to himself as the song changed to one that he’d introduced you to. Knew you’d like that one. Turning off the tap and shaking his hands over the sink, he finished up in the kitchen and grabbed his glass to rejoin you in the living room. 

 Benjamin came back with the bottle to see you sitting on the floor, one leg bent, your foot tucked against your opposite thigh. Photos and inventory lists were strewn between, atop and around your legs as you leaned forward to focus on a select one. You’d thrown your hair into a haphazard bundle on top of your head, a few stray strands falling loose around your hairline and near the nape of your neck. He smiled. That's her thinking bun. With only two more days until you started your new contract, you’d been spending every second of free time pouring over the documents you’d been sent, making sure you were as prepared as you could possibly be. He leaned against the doorframe as he watched you take a sip from your glass without taking your eyes from the picture in your left hand. Eyebrows gathered, you set your glass back down and brought the picture closer to your face. She found something. His grin grew as he pushed away from the door, eager to find out what it was. 

 “I can’t believe I missed this,” you dropped the hand that held the photo back to your lap as he crossed the living room, through the space where the coffee table had been before you moved it to take over the carpet entirely. Looking up at him, you sighed and dragged your fingernails over the top of your head, grabbing the messy nest of your bun, just like he knew you would. “This is…” You returned your gaze to the photo in question where it had fallen on your bent knee. She’s concerned, Benjamin cocked his head to the side as you picked up your wine glass again, taking a sip and contemplating whatever it was that you saw. But she’s not worried. Good. “This is,” you widened your eyes and blew air through your cheeks, causing him to chuckle as he circled around behind you to sit on the couch. “Gonna be a tough one.” 

 You’ll figure it out, though. He dropped his legs on either side of you and set the wine bottle down on the lamp table. Hands free, he placed them on your biceps and pulled you backwards until you were close enough for  him to lean around and kiss your cheek. Benjamin closed his eyes as he squeezed the rounded tops of your shoulders, lips still brushing your skin. “What is?” He asked, reveling in the breathy little sigh you released and the way you’d tilted your chin down to give him better access to your neck and back. 

 “That feels amazing,” you hummed as he flexed his long fingers, kneading your tense muscles. He smiled. Good. You rolled your head from side to side, two little pops coming from beneath his hands. Oof, that’s better. You arched your back and he raised his palms to let you reach for the photo before rising to take a seat next to him. You bent down to retrieve your now empty glass, which he dutifully refilled. “Thanks,” you sent a kiss through the air as he returned the bottle to the table. 

 “Of course.” My pleasure. Twisting at the waist, Benjamin turned back to you, lifting his arm so that you could fit yourself beneath it. You did so wordlessly, leaning into him and holding the photo up so that both of you could see it. “Now,” he brought his own glass to his lips and took a drink. “Show me what it is that’s going to be tough.” Even though I know you’ll… 

 “So,” you used the hand you held your beverage in to point out a small, dark smudge in the lower corner of the pictured sconce. “See this right here?” You lifted the print up higher so that he could get a better look. 

 Benjamin squinted at the spot you indicated, a crease in the intricate scrollwork at the base of the piece. No, of course I don’t. He pulled his glasses from the top of his head, pushing them onto his face to have another look. That? Is she joking? He chuckled inwardly as he found the tiny grainy spec that you seemed to think you should have noticed instantly; that almost no one else in the World would have noticed at all. “This little bit here?” He asked, touching his fingertip to the glossy image. According to the measuring stick that had been included in the photo, the area that raised a red flag to you was no larger than half a centimetre. “This little pinprick? That’s not just dirt? Or oxidation?” 

 You shook your head, swallowing a sip before looking back and over your shoulder at him. “No, gold doesn’t oxidize.” Right. “These have all been gold plated,” you explained, turning and gesturing to the other photographs still littering the ground where you’d been sitting. “Which should have protected the metal beneath- it did for most of these. But this one here,” you pointed back to the small dark patch, and he realized it was actually a deep green color, not black like he thought, “the plating must’ve chipped. Probably on the way to the surface, maybe they dropped it or bumped it or,” you sighed. “I’m not saying they weren’t careful or anything, just-“ Yeah, just like they were careful when they recovered the telegraph. Dropped that back to the ocean floor and almost lost it for good. “Anyway, doesn’t matter how it happened. What matters is that now, this piece has got Bronze Disease, and since it’s plated, I can’t even tell how bad it is, not from these pictures anyway.”

 He’d known about Bronze Disease since one of the first nights he’d spent with you. On a shelf in your bedroom, you had a jar of corroded coins, buttons, arrowheads and other small objects you’d acquired from various jobs through the years. Ranging in color from bright, almost neon greens and aquamarines to dark brown and nearly black, and in every stage of degradation from partially disfigured to completely unrecognizable, they’d caught his eye and his interest. You’d noticed, explaining that every item in the jar was contaminated with chlorides, causing the alloys to corrode. Even a completely unaffected piece of bronze or copper, once dropped into the jar, would catch the contagion and start to turn. 

 “Why do you keep adding things?” He’d asked. “You know what’s going to happen to them.” 

 You’d tilted your head, thoughtfully regarding the collection. “Because,” you propped yourself up on your elbows where you lay next to him, his eyes leaving the jar to fall on your face. “Because my job is to stop that from happening. To stop the corrosion, fix the damage, stop time. But,” you smiled, a dreamy look entering your eyes that made Benjamin hold his breath. “There’s beauty in it, in watching things… watching how they sort of breakdown and change.” You shook your head then, before looking at him through the hair that had fallen in your face. He swept it away with his long fingers, wanting to bask in that look in your eyes. “It’s important to preserve things, history.” He’d nodded. “But it’s also important to remember that things… things don’t last forever. Things break, and change and… and sometimes that’s okay.” 

 Yeah, sometimes it is. Releasing the air from his lungs, he’d traced the curve of your cheek, fingertips trying to memorize your face as it was, mind busy imagining the beautiful ways in which it would change. And I might get to see that. 

 “So what do you need to do then?” Or will a piece of it find its way into the jar? 

 Dropping the photo back to the floor with the rest of them, you sighed and relaxed against him. He kissed the spot behind your ear as you settled in. “Well,” you reached up with your free hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. “I have to call over there first thing and make sure they’ve sealed each piece off or else…” you let your hand fall back to your lap as you trailed off knowing that he knew what else. “And then, I’ll have to order more of the neutralizing agent, this entire piece will need to be submerged for a few days. I’ll need to test the density, see if that gives me any clues as to how far gone it is under all that plating. If it’s not too bad,” you took a sip of your wine before passing the glass to him so that he could set it down next to his own and the bottle. “I might be able to leave it as is, if I can stop the corrosion and confirm that the integrity isn’t compromised.” Benjamin closed his eyes as you spoke, enjoying the confident tone that your voice too when you talked about challenges in your work. “Otherwise we’ll have to pour a new core to reinforce it.” 

 “A lot of work.” He kissed behind your ear again and tightened the arm he had around your middle. 

 “A lot of work,” you repeated with a small laugh. “But, fixable.” 

 He smiled, lips still pressed to your warm skin. “Good.” I knew you’d know what to do. “Are you done for the night, then?” He dragged the tip of his nose along the outer shell of your ear, his thumb sweeping against your hip under your shirt. He knew that the combination of sensations wasn’t fair, that his touch, his breath on your skin, his warmth and the way he held you would turn you to putty in his hands. But he also knew that if he didn’t make that happen, you’d stay up all night trying to find more things that you’d missed, stressing and worrying when it wasn’t warranted. They picked you for this job for a reason, remember that. 

 As expected, you released a shaky breath, head tilted back against his shoulder. “Benjamin,” you groaned his name with a hint of false exasperation. “This is important, I have to…” 

 He continued to trail kisses down the back of your neck. “You’ve spent days pouring over this, love.” He said, beard brushing your flesh to add to his assault on your willpower. “And you’re going to spend weeks working on it.” You sighed again and his grin grew. “Weeks, and I’m going to miss you. Miss this.” 

 You hummed and he could feel the vibrations through your back where it was pressed against his body. “I’m only going to be in London, and you’ll be staying with me some nights and…” you sighed as his mouth wandered down to the base of your neck above the collar of your shirt. “And I’ll be home on weekends and…” 

 “And I’ll miss you all the minutes between.” With Kesting and Oberman both still away, and the conference done and wrapped up, he’d be home for a few weeks, not needing to go into the office much. He thought about just spending all his free time in London with you, but decided against it knowing that you would need your space to think and plan and work.Instead, he’d made plans to see a few friends that he used to work with, Zach and Bianca. He’d booked tickets to talks at different museums, planned to meet up with Leo, and promised you that he’d spend some time in the garden since you’d be gone for peak planting of most things. He’d keep himself busy, but the truth was that he’d rather keep himself busy with you. 

 It didn’t take much else for him to get you to concede the remainder of evening over to him, and soon enough the two of you were tangled up in bed leaving the carpet strewn with photos and lists, leaving your half empty glasses and the bottle of corked Shiraz on the table. The remaining 48 hours were spent much in this manner- him doing most of the cooking and chores while you finished your prep during the day, and then coaxing you into his arms and away from your work at night. He helped you pack and even packed an overnight bag for himself to leave at your hotel since he wasn’t sure which nights he’d be staying with you. The first night for sure, but then I don’t know. He wanted to wait and take cues from you, make the decision on the fly so as not to interrupt or distract you too much, wanted to be there when you needed him but not when it would be inconvenient. 

 As you were leaving the house on Monday morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, you turned abruptly to him, keys still in hand after locking the door behind you. “Benjamin?” There was nervous excitement in your voice, just like when you’d left the message telling him that you’d gotten the job. He tilted his head and adjusted the straps of the bags he was carrying. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and shook your head, a sparkle in your eye. “It’s really happening.” 

 It is. He broke out in a grin and leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of your lips. “It really is. Now come on, let’s get you there.” The drive was quicker than normal due to the early hour, and you sat in the passenger seat buzzing with silent excitement. 

 He walked with you to the museum after checking into the hotel, fingers entwined with yours as you led him to the limited access entrance where you’d been instructed to go. The city was still waking up, people heading to work with their heads down and their mugs full, buses and black cabs filling the streets. The sun was coming up now, casting its light on the blossoms of small trees and shrubs, colors coming alive as Spring unfolded. It was his favorite season, everything splendid and bright, everything in its most glorious state. It was how he thought about the events and figures that he studied. Now, they lived in dusty tomes, tucked neatly between rows of 12 point or smaller typed text, in articles and textbooks and research papers. But at one time, they’d been full of life and consequence and risk, exuberant and loud like the crocuses blooming only to shrivel and die at the end of the Spring. He recalled your words about the coins, rotting away in a jar in the bedroom that you shared. Things don’t last forever, and sometimes that’s okay. He looked sidelong at you without you noticing. But not us, not this. He squeezed your hand and returned his focus straight ahead, smiling to himself. 

 With the promise to meet you for lunch, he left you at the door with a kiss and a reminder of how proud he was, how happy he was for you in this moment. He watched you walk in, watched the slight rise and fall of your shoulders as you took a steadying breath, then set about his day to busy himself in the city. It had been a while since he’d had aimless time to spend wandering London, so he happily went about visiting favorite locations until it was nearly time to head back to the British Museum and you. Stopping at a chip shop that he used to frequent when he’d lived in the city, he picked up food for both of you, then started the walk back to the impressive building and the even more impressive woman inside of it. 

 He waited for you in the Great Court, strolling beneath the tessellated glass ceiling, hands in his pockets as he visited the statues that filled the circular room, teasing of the treasures that were just inside the museum’s main doors. Stopping in front of a massive carved stone figure, he read the placard beneath it. Hoa Hakananai'a- The Wave Breaker. Benjamin narrowed his eyes as he regarded the Easter Island totem, imagining the way the stone sounded as it’s prehistoric creator chipped away with a crude chisel, freeing the ocean deity from the chunk of gray flow lava. He smiled, stepping away from the statue and making his way to the next, a stunning likeness of Amenhotep III, the detail in his head dress and postiche painstakingly preserved by someone like you. 

 Before he could fully appreciate how proud and happy it made him to know that you were somewhere in the building, up to your elbows in polish and preservative oils and cleaners as you brought another lost treasure back to its original beauty, you were calling his name from behind. He turned, one side of his mouth quirked up in a grin as he caught sight of you, stains on your jeans and sleeves pushed up to your biceps, hair thrown into a haphazard bun, and smudges of lacquer on your forearms and fingers. You belonged here, with the art of the ages, pouring your love of them into every project that you worked on. 

 “You’re early,” you said, smiling wide as you approached him.  

 He beamed. “Wanted as much time with you as I could get. As you reached him, he noticed a streak of some kind of solution near your eyebrow, his thumb coming up to swipe it away as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “How’s day one going so far?”

 Nearly bursting from the force of your smile, you scrunched up your nose and grabbed onto his arm. “Come on,” you tugged him in the direction that you’d come from and he let himself be pulled, chuckling. “Let’s get away from all these people and I’ll tell you all about it.” Sounds good to me. You led him through a series of hallways, showing security guards a badge that you’d pulled from your pocket, explaining that Benjamin was your guest, until you were in a small break room in the center of a group of offices. It was empty, most employees choosing to eat at their desks, meaning that the two of you could spread out and relax. 

 You told him about your brief meeting with the museum director, about the security screenings and tours you’d been given by the guards before launching into the details of how it felt to finally be in the room with the sunken treasures you’d be working on. Your eyes lit up as you spoke about the special gloves you had to wear to handle some of the objects, and he could almost feel the fibers covering his own fingers, could almost feel the weight of a heavy metallic lamp in his hands. You’d spent the morning sorting the pieces into groups based on how much cleaning and soaking they’d need, then started in on the objects that would require the most care, hence the various stains and mysterious spills on your clothes and skin. And hair, despite the bandanna.   

 “So,” he asked through a mouthful of the sandwiches that he’d brought, watching as your tongue darted out to lick a drop of Russian dressing from your lip. “You meet with the restoration committee board director later today, right?” You nodded, eyes wide and brows flying up into the bandana that you’d used to keep your hair out of your way. “You nervous?” Still chewing, you continued to nod and added an eye roll. He chuckled. “Don’t be,” he leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth. “They’re going to meet you and…” he trailed off, smiling. 

 “And what?” You wiped a paper napkin across your face before balling it up and throwing it back in the empty sandwich sack. 

 “And know that they made the right choice. That no one else would be better.”  

 “I hope you’re right,” you rose from your seat and crumpled the bag, moving to the trash bin to toss it. You hadn’t realized, but Benjamin had risen silently right behind you, and you jumped and laughed as his arms wound around your waist. 

 “If I’m wrong,” he murmured in your ear, “If they can’t see how amazing you are, then they’re out of their tree.” He kissed you and let you go, letting you turn to face him. “Now,” he tapped your nose and tucked a piece of hair up into the green fabric that was tied around your head. “Let me go so you can get back to work. I’ll be waiting back in the room, waiting to hear how right I am.” 

 ..  ..  ..  ..  .. ..  ..  

 You’d gone back to work after lunch with Benjamin, his reassurance that your meeting with the mysterious committee director that had selected you specifically for the job would go well giving you an energy boost that carried you through the afternoon. You’d been focused on scraping the corrosion away from the curled end of a decorative chandelier piece, when a voice broke the silence, speaking your name. That must be… You turned, brushing your palms against your pants to clean them so your greeting wouldn’t dirty the director’s hand, and you were somewhat shocked to see an older woman, around your mother’s age, her hair an unruly cluster of curls. She was looking at you with a hard, piercing stare, weighing you carefully before she even introduced herself. You got the feeling that her air of intimidation was something that she carried as a layer of protection against those who might question her decisions. She makes a lot of them, I’m sure, so she can’t have people second guessing that she means business. In a way you respected that. You smiled, deciding to break the ice first, as you held out your hand. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Miss..?” You trailed off to let her supply her name. 

 She smirked and stepped forward meeting your outstretched hand with her own. “Day.” She clasped her hand around yours. “Julia Day. And that makes two of us who couldn’t wait to meet.” 

.

.

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@something-tofightfor  @its-my-little-dumpster-fire  @suchatinyinfinity​​ @thesumofmychoices​​  @gollyderek​​  @malionnes​​  @becs-bunker​​ @warriorqueenofnarnia​​  @elanor-of-imladris​​  @traeumerinwitzhelden​​ @songtoyou​​  @michellemybelles-world​ @obscurilicious @breanime

if you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know! (and if you’ve already let me know and i didn’t make it happen...oops! i’m sorry and disorganized.) 

#too good to be true #tgtbt #benjamin greene #benjamin greene x you #benjamin greene x reader #benjamin greene gold digger #gold digger fanfiction #julia day #leo day #oh boy #i had too much fun learning about bronze disease

[dalamjisung]

the picture worth a thousand words ❊ kim seungmin

genre: fluff

word count: 3902

pairing: reader x kim seungmin

description: people say a picture can be worth a thousand words, but you are a writer and that ain’t flying with you. Until you met him; photographer Kim Seungmin. 

There was nothing particularly wrong with you. At least not that you knew; but you still felt like there was something missing. Every night, before going to bed and after doing your usual n nightly routine, you’d sit down on your bed, and think. You have a great job. You graduated from a good university. You have amazing friends. You have a beautiful house. But why did you feel like there was no reason in celebrating all that? Why did you feel so alone? You wanted to share all of that with someone; to wake up in your apartment to the sight of made breakfast and the love of your life in an apron, laughing the kind of laugh that would make happiness bubble in your stomach. You wanted someone to pick you up at your job so they could take you to an impromptu date, or someone who you could talk about the good old day of college. Being alone was fun, but just for a little while. You were older now, and you missed that companionship that all your friends seemed to have.

No, you would alway chastise yourself. You don’t need a man to be happy. And you really didn’t; you knew you were thankful for all you had, for all you achieved. You could easily be happy on your own, but you didn’t really want to. And that made all the difference.

Sighing, you gave up on yet another sleepless night. The night left as quick as the morning came and it was time for you to clock in to work. As you ran to the office, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach growling, complaining about not receiving any breakfast. 

“I’ll eat after the meeting,” You promised yourself, hoping your body would somehow understand and behave during your presentation. 

You worked in a magazine, writing for the arts and culture section, and this meeting would decide on a very important pitch you had been pushing forward for a while; a personal interview with the up and coming photographer, Kim Seungmin. You were a great admirer of his early work, loving the simple way that texture and color mixed in his pictures, managing to really evoke some feeling in you– some feeling you couldn’t quite name it, just feel it. This interview could change your career, as well as his, and you truly believed it could benefit both of you. You were tired of having to always write about the same things and the same people; it was time to write about things that were truly new, truly inspiring. You deserved this, and so did many other people.

“Good morning,” You say, smiling as you walk into the meeting room where your boss, supervisor, and assistant sat. “Shall we begin?”

They all nod, smiling too. Your company was incredible like that; it was casual, with spaces where you could work with your colleagues without the pressure of deadlines. They re-enforced that friendships in the working space optimized the workload in half, and that colorful and open spaces made the workers more engaged, instead of separating people in cubicles. You had your own table, but there was no wall separating you from your peers. Everyone smiled. Everyone truly enjoyed what they did. This was your dream job, and if could simply convince these three people that it was time for a content upgrade, you’d be on cloud nine. You could feel it; it would change your life.

“And that it why,” You say, concluding the presentation with a couple of Kim Seungmin’s pictures from his last exhibit. “I believe we need this change. It is not only a chance to connect with a younger audience, but to also introduce a new artist to our older public. We can widen our publication to encompass more than a select number of people; we can get bigger and better, while staying true to our morals and still conveying informative and captivating content.”

They all nod, looking at each other, and your boss gets up. “That’s why we hired you, isn’t it, Y/N? That crazy mind of yours is one of your best. Go ahead; we’re giving you as much time as you need. I believe this project will work out really well for everyone.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” You say, smiling wide and trying to contain your excitement. 

“Ma’am my ass,” She laughs. “Back in the days you’d refer to me as senior sister…”

You laugh with her. Your boss wasn’t that much older, but actually very close in age to you. She had been the senior responsible for you during your orientation and freshman year, and as soon as she heard you graduated, she offered you a job. You started low; just an unpaid intern, and in the passing two years since the, you managed to climb your way up to payed columnist. You were proud of you and of her. 

“You got it, didn’t you?” Your friend, Lisa, asks as you sat on your table. She was a reviewer for the magazine, enjoying the life of testing out new products for the magazine. She called ‘pampering herself while getting paid.’ “I can see it on your face, you did. Wow! Congratulations!”

“I’m so happy,” You squeal, looking at your friend laughing at you. “This will be great!”

“You finally get to meet your idol,” Lisa jokes and you throw a pen at her.

“I simply admire his job,” You say, squinting your eyes. “That’s why I insisted on this pitch so hard.”

“Pff, sure,” Lisa rolls her eyes. “Let’s not focus on the fact that he is drop dead gorgeous.”

“Oh my gosh Lisa,” You mumble, facepalming yourself. “He is not a product to be tested.”

“You never know,” She says winking. “Maybe he is interested.”

“Don’t you dare hit on my assignment!” You gasp, laughing. 

“I would never!” Lisa says, and you two are almost rolling on the floor at this point. 

You knew she’d never hit on Kim Seungmin (unless he started it, of course.) She always joked like that, complaining about how her job never introduced her to hot people like yours did. It’s not fair, she’d whine playfully. You’ve met all of my favorite idols! Kim Namjoon, Ahn Hyoseop, Jackson Wang! Should I keep going? You’d shrug and chuckle. Sure, it was really cool talking to all of those people, their stories were simple incredible, but you knew about the restrictions placed on them through their companies. You knew the reservations they had, and that half of the information was just generalized answers to questions they weren’t allowed to answer. This is why you were so interested in Kim Seungmin; he wasn’t represented by an entertainment agency nor was he under any contract– he was an independent artist.

You had a response to your initial email right as you came back from lunch.

Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,

Thank you so much for contacting me. I’d love to help you with whatever you might need. However, I am in the middle of photographing for my new exhibit, so I’m afraid I won’t have time to sit down properly and answer all your questions. If you don’t mind me suggesting, you could tag along for a few days to experience my day to day life first hand, and ask your questions as well. 

I hope to hear from you soon,

Kim Seungmin.

“Holy shit!” You gasp. This was much better than you expected. You’d be lying if you said that the thought of asking to accompany him on his daily routine as he photographs didn’t cross your mind, but you refrained yourself from pushing too hard, very aware that some artists are not enthusiastic of sharing their muses and inspirations with others. 

“What?” Lisa runs to your table, leaning on the back of your chair and reading the email carefully. “Holy shit!”

You both start brainstorming for quick and efficient questions, skipping the obvious ones and going straight for the ones that dwelled deeper into his work and exhibitions. This had potential to be your best work so far, and you could feel it. Once you both came up with a list of about thirty questions, it was almost the end of the day. 

“I’ll get going,” Lisa said waving. “Don’t stay here too late!”

“I’ll just answer some emails and leave,” You smile. “See you tomorrow!”

Cracking your fingers, you tried to control your emotions. 

Dear Kim Seungmin,

Thank you for your quick response and for the great suggestion. I’d love to tag along, if it won’t be a problem for you!

When would it be a good time to start?

All the best,

Y/N Y/L/N.

You were about to close your laptop when a new email came in. 

Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,

I’m starting to photograph for a series tomorrow! If you’d like, we could meet at 10AM at the coffee shop right by the corner of Main Street? 

Let me know!

Kim Seungmin. 

You smiled.

Perfect! See you then.

————————

Waking up was not hard simply because once again you didn’t sleep. Getting out of bed, though, was incredibly difficult. You were super excited, but once again your body felt like it had no energy, the two hours you seemed to have managed a light sleep not serving for much. When you finished getting dressed, you notice you barely had time to make it to the coffee shop, so unfortunately, no breakfast would be possible. 

You run all the way there, cursing your laziness that led you to be this out of shape. Getting inside the shop, you sigh, looking to the sides while putting your hair up in a ponytail. It’s then that you hear a sharp, dry snap! Your head whips to your right and you finally find him, with his camera pointing at the coffee mug. Kim Seungmin. The tip of his tongue is showing through his teeth as he absentmindedly looked at his pictures. 

“Hi,” You say gently as you approached him. His eyes, sparkling and large, look at you and he blushes intensely, gulping down. “Kim Seungmin, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” He stutters a bit, and you chuckle. “Look, abou-“

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You clarify, not wanting him to think you were a fan bothering him on his free time. “We emailed yesterday?”

“You’re Y/N???” He gasps, putting his camera down and offering you his hand. “I didn’t expect you to be so… young.”

You laugh at that. “It’s fine, I didn’t really expect you to know what I looked like.”

“Yeah,” He laughs. “Sorry about that. Do you want anything to eat? I went ahead and ordered coffee…”

“Oh,” Your stomach grumbles. “I’d love that actually. Do we have time?”

He shrugs. “I don’t really have a time table to follow, so sure.”

You guys start talking about yourselves, and you do what you always do; you try to establish a connection to you interviewee so that they feel more comfortable talking to you, and that means also talking about yourself, in the most superficial level possible. This time, though, was different. You felt as if not only you were doing that, but him too. He asked questions about you and your life, and he seemed genuinely interested in what you told him. You felt really comfortable with him, and you were excited for the rest of the day. 

“Are you done?” He asks, with a small smile. You nod and you two leave, walking side by side. 

With your eyes on him, you noticed his stance; camera in hands, always at chest level, ready to snap pictures at the slightness movement that caught his eyes. In between, while you guys walked around the city, you asked some of your prepared questions.

“What is this series about?” You ask, notebook in hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course…”

He chuckles. “The mundane life,” He says looking around, eyes laying on you, hair up, looking down at your notebook. Snap. You look up and he is staring at the children ahead. “I want to portray the beauty that people ignore everyday. It’s a new theme even for me, I don’t know if you are familiar with my past work but-“

“I am,” You say, smiling wide. “I love your pictures, really. They were one of the few I’ve seen that actually talked to me.”

And you could’ve melted at his smile. “Thanks!” 

He keeps talking about his work and you guys walk, and you kept hearing snap! snap! snap! but it always seemed to be when you were writing. You were a little upset that because you had to do your job, you couldn’t watch him do his, but you were sure you’d see those pictures later. 

“What I’m looking for,” He said as you two sat down on yet another coffee shop, now with the sun already gone. and a sandwich instead of breakfast in front of you. “Is for that one picture, yeah? The one that people always talk about– the one worth a thousand words. And I think I’m on the right path to find it.”

You’d definitely quote him on that one.

For three days, both of you followed a routine; meet at the coffee shop at 10AM, walk around a different neighborhood each time, have lunch, walk some more, and then talk a little more over dinner, although dinner time was reserved for you two to bond as friends and not work assignments. You grew to enjoy his company, in these past days, and enjoy your dinners even more. You found out he is a fan of Day6 and that he sometimes can look like a puppy when he smiles. You learn that he has an older sister and that being a photographer was always his dream. But Seungmin also learned new things; he got to know who much of fan you were when you accidentally mentioned on of his first famous pictures. He found out that you are allergic to cats but that you still adore them, although your dream is to one day raise a Corgi named Moose. 

As you talked, you barely noticed his hands on his phone, stealthily snapping away. You were simply too into your memories of when you would write people’s essays in college for a small fee that you barely noticed him doing his thing. Actually, this was one of the things he loved to found out the most; how immersed on an assignment you could get, that you would barely notice the world around you still spinning. Or him taking pictures of you. 

It was now the last dinner; your week over. This had been the best week of the past few months, if you had to be truthful. You would wake up energized because you finally could sleep. You would eat delicious food slowly because you finally had someone to talk to during meals. You adored your days with Seungmin. But they had finally come to an end. And you feared that so would your friendship.

————————

Dear Y/N,

I hope you haven’t forgotten me yet (it’s been only three weeks since we last saw each other.) 

I read your article about me. I loved it! You definitely painted me in a light I’ve never seen myself, but I still want to thank you for being truthful and inspiring when you talked about my work. 

I am emailing you to finally announce that my exhibition opening will be tomorrow, at 7PM at The Gallery. I hope you can make it! I organized everything so that your name will be on the VIP list with a plus one; you can bring your friend you talked so much about, she sounded fun! I hope to see you there!

Love,

Seungmin. 

“Love?” Lisa asks, as you both read the email for the fifth time. “What the-“

“Language,” You shush her. “Oh my gosh, what does he mean by that?”

“Love.” Lisa tries again. “Love love love… you guys really hit it off, didn’t you?”

“Lisa, no!” You whine, blushing intensely. “I mean… there were times when I thought we were getting closer, but after the week ended he never texted me! Not even to talk about the article, so I don;tknow what to think anymore.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” She shrugs. “Now let’s go, girly. We need to get ready for a very important event tonight.”

With the permission of your boss, you two leave early, straight to your house. On the way, you kept stressing about which dress to wear, or which shoes would match, and you’d sigh in frustration. That wasn’t you. You didn’t stress about things like this; you were cool and collected. 

It took a couple of hours and you were sure you’d make it there a little bit late, but as soon as you two were ready, Lisa having borrowed some clothes from you, you left. The taxi ride was terrible; you were so anxious that you could throw up. Something in your gut told you that tonight would be… a surprise. And you weren’t sure if that was good or bad.

“Okay, we’re at the door,” Lisa whispered smiling to the security and giving him your names. “You have to calm down. You look like you’re about to run.”

“That’s because I am!” You whispered, looking at your friend as you walked in. 

“Don’t be an enjoy the show!” She winks and walks away. 

Sighing, you start roaming around, noticing one room in particular was closed off. Some pictures on the wall made you want to laugh, because you knew that as soon as he snapped that picture, Seungmin tripped and feel on his butt. The next one made you smile fondly, watching the two kids on their bikes. The sunset gave off the perfect lighting and you could only see one hand from the right side, a worried mother that ran after her babies. You went through the exposition like that, remembering each and all moments with the photographer. Once you were done, you were a little confused. You could’ve sworn he took more pictures than that.

“Excuse me!” Seungmin called from the center of the room, his back to you and Lisa, who brought you a glass of champagne. “I’d like to say a few things tonight. First of all, thank you all for coming. It means a lot to see all my friends and family united to support me. Secondly, I wanted to talk a little about this series, and about the surprise series in the next room.”

So that’s what it was. A surprise collection. Intrigued, you listened carefully.

“For the past days I have been working endlessly to make this dream come true, and I finally did it. I managed to capture moments of the daily life that, for us spectators, don’t mean much when we see them on the street, but that printed and edited seems to mean a lot. This is a calling; please pay more attention to your daily life. Smell the flowers. Listen to children laugh. Have fun as you walk to work everyday at 6AM.”

People laugh at that. He did too, and you smiled, watching as his cheeks puffed out in pride. 

“The next room, though, was inspired on my own daily routine for the week I was taking these shots. I wasn’t alone that time; I was lucky to have an incredible companion with me, and unfortunately she doesn’t seem to be here, but you still get to see what I did for seven days straight.”

Lisa elbows you and your mouth is agape. You are sure you look like an idiot, but you couldn’t believe this. Was he talking about you?

“I promised this person that I would find what I was looking for– a picture worth a thousand words. How funny is it that she’s a writer?” People laugh yet again, but you can’t even muster breathing at this point. “And I did it. In the next room, you will see a series of shot of this person who now has turned into my muse. And in the center, the thousand words. Have fun, and thank you!”

Following the crowd before he could spot you, you enter this mysterious room, feeling lightheaded as you did. Your face was everywhere. 

A picture of you writing on your notebook, the sun hitting only half of your face. 

A picture of you sipping on your coffee while looking out the window. A thunder illuminating your face, contradicting the peacefulness you remember feeling that one stormy afternoon.

A picture on you laying on the grass, relaxing a little as he hunted more pictures.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Lisa gasped. “How?”

“I don’t know.” And you really didn’t. How didn’t I notice this before?

And in the center, hanging from the ceiling, bigger than the others, you. Your eyes curious and wondering, arms up, putting your hair on a ponytail, and a coffee bar behind you. You had to admit, you looked ethereal; like a faraway beauty. And the name, written in small print, the picture worth a thousand words. Not ‘a picture,’ the picture. To say you were about to cry was an understatement. 

You walk away from the room, heels clicking on the ground and suddenly a deja-vu hits you; snap! snap! snap! The sound of the camera shutter echoing on your mind. 

So that’s what that was, you think, still walking, decidedly. He was taking pictures of me.

You find him talking to a waiter in another room, soon dismissing him with a wave and a smile. 

“Ya Kim Seungmin!” You call loudly, making him jump from the scare. His eyes go wide as he sees you approaching, stuttering nonsense and and pointing at you. “Are you crazy?”

And as you say that, your hands go to his chubby cheeks– the same ones you’ve been dying to squeeze– and pull his face towards you. Your mouth touches his and there is nothing smooth or delicate about it. It’s urgent, desperate almost, and you blush at the thought. He is quick to get out of his trance and to bring you closer with his hands on your waist. He slows down the kiss, leading you, coaching you. He does what he’s been wanting to do since he saw you and he entangles his hands on your hair. It takes a while for you two to separate, and when you do you hide your face on his chest, laughing lightly. His heart is beating like crazy.

“Warn a girl first,” You tease, raising your head to see his eyes shine in the way you love so much.

“Look who’s talking!” He gasps. “You just attacked me!”

“I just… had a lot to say.”

“And what was that?”

“A kiss is worth a thousand words,” You whisper in his ear, laughing as he shivers. “Didn’t you get the memo?”

“I don’t think so,” He pretends to think about it. “Do it again and see if it works.”

Laughing, you start approaching him again. Foreheads touch first. Eyes make contact. And just as your lips were about to touch you hear-

“Is that the girl from the pictures?!”

And if you could hit Lisa, you would.

#skz #skz imagines #skz imagine #stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #kim woojin #bang chan #Lee Minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim Seungmin #yang jeongin #imagine #imagines #one shot #stay #photography #kpop #idols #kpop idols

[hyunsunglix]

deadlines | h. jisung

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff + college au

requested?: no i just love college boys

word count: 2.4k+

a/n: kicking it off strong w my first post on here lol anyway i had a little too much fun writing this AND i even threw in some cameos ... if u catch them u get a gold star so watch out -sam

“this is so hard!” you whine, slumping over onto the chemistry notes you hadn’t bothered to finish. you turn your gaze towards your friend, kyungjoo, who gives you a fake sympathetic look.

“i know, y/n, i know, it’s just so hard for you to sit here for two hours and stare at him-“ she points her pencil at a boy sitting a few rows in front of you- “the whole time.”

“it is!” you defend yourself, although your heart isn’t truly in it, because the boy kyungjoo’s pointing at has caught your attention once again.

he looks like any other student in a typical 8am class- messy hair, sweatpants, hoodie. looking over the lecture hall, you probably would have missed him if you didn’t already know where he sat. which, for the record, was on the left side, fourth row, surrounded by other guys from his fraternity. of course.

as you tune yourself further in to the guys’ conversation, and begin to ignore whatever life advice kyungjoo is trying to give you now, you realize that the fraternity is talking amongst themselves excitedly- really excitedly.

“who are you bringing?”

“chan, your girlfriend is coming right? and minho’s coming too?”

“changbin, you’re going to have a hell of a time getting enough beer for all of us.”

and lastly, “are you gonna do it tonight?” “of course i’m gonna do it tonight; can’t wait any fucking longer.”

a party. of course there’s a party. there’s one practically every friday night, and every friday night, you don’t go. you use the age old excuse of “oh, i wasn’t invited!” but you know nobody needs an invite to a frat party. you’re just waiting for one anyways.

you tell this to kyungjoo as you come out of your dazed state. she laughs at you, telling you maybe she’ll take off to the frat party and have a little fun with someone while you stay in the dorms, staring at the blank chemistry notebook that’s taunting you right now. it seems to get closer, and closer, and closer- until your professor’s voice rings throughout the hall.

your body lurches, and your spine hits the back of your chair almost involuntarily. the sound of it is comically deafening compared to kyungjoo’s quiet laughter, and the whispers of the frat boys just a few rows in front of you.

“for part of your midterm assessment, you will be required to complete a group project- your own presentation, adequately covering a section of one of the units we’ve completed in class thus far. remember, the best way to learn is by teaching. your groups have been assigned at random; if you have any problems with your group members, please speak with me privately. to save time, i’ll be putting the list on the board.”

then, projected onto the whiteboard, is your fate for the next week. you scan the list for your name, your name, your name… for a moment after you see it, you forget if it’s even yours, because all you can see is the name han jisung sitting right underneath it.

y/n. han jisung.

han jisung. y/n.

you reach desperately for kyungjoo, nearly choking her in your own panic. “oh, are you doing electronegativity?” she muses. “i’d be pissed if i had to do that, too.”

“no, i-“ frankly, you don’t even know what section you’re covering; it doesn’t really matter now, anyway, because you’re convinced you’re fucked no matter what. “just look, kyungjoo!”

she manages to stop her gaze from wandering the lecture hall, up and down the aisles like a kid in a candy store, and squints at the board. her eyes blow open the moment she sees your name, but she forces them back and grins at you. “aw, have fun you little lovebird!” she squeals as a member of her own group tugs her away from you. you think you might actually choke her later.

the students are clearly splitting off into their groups, so you feel pressured to do the same- but not before you scout out jisung, and check (and then double check and triple check) to make sure it’s not too weird if you walk straight up to him right now. it’s not. “what the hell were you expecting?” you whisper to yourself as you walk towards the front of the room. it feels like a hike, miles long, and it could be placebo, but you swear you’re a little bit winded by the time you reach his desk.

he beats you to the punch. “hi, y/n.”

“hi, jisung,” you reply, leaning ever so slightly over the tabletop. “who else is in our group?” you try not to let any nervousness show in your voice.

“oh, jiwon is working with us, but she’s, ahem, ‘sick’ today.” the air quotes he puts around the word “sick,” are almost endearing, until the image of a hungover jiwon- kyungjoo’s friend, an absolute doll you’ve had the privilege of meeting a few times- pops into your mind. “oh, yikes.”

“yeah, yikes is about right.” he pauses, shaking his head at nothing, then looks back up at you. “sit down.” he motions to the chair next to him.

you grasp for conversational straws as you take your seat, “so, i heard your frat is having a party this weekend?” dumb question; of course they’re having a party. you know they are.

“yeah, we are!” the tone of excitement he had when talking to his friends comes back, and it makes you smile. “oh my god, y/n, you should come!”

the smile drops off your face, an expression of pure shock left in its trail. “really?”

“i mean, as long as you’re down for it. it’ll be fun; a ton of people are gonna be there.” he gives you a little nudge with his elbow, and you feel yourself falling into his trap. it’ll totally be fun, won’t it? you think to yourself. you take one look at jisung and decide, yeah, it will.

“i’ll come.”

his smile is even wider than yours. “great; it starts at 9, but you can come whenever. and you don’t have to bring anything, just yourself.”

“i’ll probably come with kyungjoo, is that okay?”

“oh, that’s perfect!”

+

“that’s perfect!” kyungjoo tells you as she adjusts your outfit in the mirror. you would beg to differ, but you keep your mouth shut, because kyungjoo looks stunning herself- so if she thinks you look good, that must mean something, right?

you run your own hands down your outfit’s front. sheer material, sprinkled with baby blue glitter, covers you from your neck down to the middle of your thighs, and its sparkle almost distracts from the delicate white slip dress you wear underneath. kyungjoo passes you your shoes and steps away as you put them on, since they give you quite a few inches over her already shorter frame. “i don’t want to be seen next to you,” she jokes.

you head out of the dorms together, wrapped in jackets to protect not only yourselves, but also the shock factor of your outfits. you don’t want to give everything away just yet, especially not to any of the boys sitting out on their frat houses’ front porches because they think they’re too good for anyone’s parties but their own.

the few people on the front lawn turn a blind eye to you and kyungjoo, so you slip through the door without anyone noticing. inside, the air is heavy with the scent of alcohol and the sound of music. mentally, you start preparing a plan to split up with kyungjoo and search the place for jisung- the idea of not having anyone to attach yourself to makes you jittery, but jisung was the only reason you showed up, really, so you’d be damned if you didn’t find him, you have to find him, but you’re getting a little hot in your jacket, so you start to unzip it- and then you see him.

amongst the lazy sway of the party, his dash through the kitchen and into the foyer is hard to miss. that, and he runs straight into you. as he uses your shoulders to steady himself, he pushes your jacket off. you barely hear it hit the floor- time slows and your senses numb as you watch jisung give you what might be the slowest once-over of all time. “y/n,” he mumbles. his voice proves he’s more drunk than you expected him to be. “i’m glad you showed up.” it’s not a you look good, which is what your heart really wanted, but it’s a start- until it ends.

a wide-eyed blonde girl, someone you recognize as being a few years older than you, comes up behind him. “jisung,” she says, her voice like a siren’s song. he turns slow, too slow for her taste, and so she tugs his arm. “jisung,” she repeats, louder this time. this draws the attention of some of the people in the kitchen, and a boy from the football team comes out. “han!” he claps his hand on jisung’s back.

more people follow, and jisung’s eyes widen as he’s pulled in a dozen directions at once. under pressure, you let go of his hand. you didn’t even realize you had grabbed it, yet you missed the feeling of it as soon as it was gone. kyungjoo slips her hand into yours in jisung’s place, and drags you into the living room. “come on, we’re gonna have some fun!”

your idea of fun at the beginning of the night hadn’t been eavesdropping on the sorority girls’ game of never have i ever, but as time dragged on, you managed to trick yourself into thinking it was interesting- jiwon was there, at least, so you and kyungjoo had an excuse to hang around. eventually, she stood up and left the circle, saying something about getting more drinks for the group. “jiwonnie, can you get us some too?” kyungjoo pleads.

“i thought you weren’t drinking tonight,” you whisper to her.

“change of plans.” she gives you the same look she gives you when you talk about jisung, and you’re forced to nod.

jiwon enters the room again with what must be an armful of beers. she passes one to each girl seated on the floor, then hands one each to you and kyungjoo. you expect her to rejoin the sorority girls, but she climbs onto the sofa next to you. “y/n, i thought you’d be with jisung.”

“yeah, i thought i’d be, too,” you sighed, not meeting her eyes.

“yeah… he’s looking for you, actually.”

you nearly spit out your drink. “what? but he ran off with- with-”

“yuju.” jiwon finishes. “but that didn’t last long, he’s not that into her and she’s not that interesting, anyway. he’s looking for you, y/n.”

she’s begging the question, so you ask. “where is he?”

“outside, on the deck.”

you make your way across the house with the beer that you didn’t need and weren’t going to drink, finally feeling like you had a place at the party. when you spot jisung on the deck, he’s sitting on the railing, a spot next to him that looked as if it had been saved for you- your place.

“hey,” jisung greets you as you climb over the railing, guessing you’re just another sorority girl there to butter him up. but when he turns to look, you swear you can see his eyes sparkle from something that’s not the moonlight. “y/n,” he whispers.

“jisung.” you grin like a giddy schoolgirl, even though you know there’s lipstick staining your teeth and the slightest hint of alcohol on your breath.

“where were you?” he asks.

“i was with kyungjoo. you were with yuju, right?” you hope you’re wrong.

“yeah, for like, a minute. and then i came outside to wait for you.” he waited for you. the thought makes your heart jump, and then sink, as you realize you were the one that kept him waiting for so long, kept him with yuju, away from you.

“how was she?” you want to smack yourself as soon as the words pass your lips. you barely know yuju, all you know is no matter what jisung says about her, it’s going to upset you. your mind trails through dark hallways and crowds of people, thinking about jisung and yuju drinking, talking, laughing with each other, all while you were silent in the living room.

“fine, i guess… but i’d rather have been with you.” he pulls you into his side. you can feel it, you can see it, you can smell his cologne and just barely imagine what his lips would taste like, all while the world roars around you with a vigor that makes you feel small.

“sorry for keeping you waiting.” your voice is so soft you feel like it might get lost in the hum of the night, everything buzzing around you like you’re trapped in a lightbulb on the verge of blowing out.

“it’s okay, i’ve got all the time in the world.” his hand drifts up your side, tapping with his fingertips the same way you would touch a crystal glass. seconds that feel precious to you chip away from your body.

“do you really?” you blurt.

“yeah, do you not?”

“i mean, i wouldn’t say i do.”

“maybe you’ve got a little more time than you think.” there’s a cadence to his voice, which matches how he sways from the drinks he’s had. you look at him, slow, and he looks back at you, slower, with hair and eyes like molasses.

and then he crashes into you, sugary sweet and warm, and you feel yourself melting into him like it’s the only thing you have left to do. it’s the only thing you can think about, anyway, with it sticking in your mind so hard you feel like you’re reliving the same three second every time jisung pushes his lips against yours again. when he finally pulls away, you can barely catch up, leaving you with your shoulders drooping, your eyes half-lidded, licking your lips like there’s still something left on them, and you want it, bad.

“why’d you do it?” you ask, skipping over telling him how much you enjoyed it. there’s no way he doesn’t already know.

“i told myself i’d do it tonight.” he strains to keep his voice slow once again; the world inside his head moving far too fast after kissing you. “couldn’t wait any fucking longer.”

#stray kids #han jisung #han #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #stray kids scenario #han jisung imagine #han jisung scenario #jisung imagine #jisung drabble #jisung scenario #stray kids fluff #han jisung fluff #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #skz imagine #skz drabble #skz fluff #🌎.sam

[fritzllang]

Your writing is excellent!! From the prompts list, could you do #136 for vic and eddie? 👀 👀 👀

Thank you so much! If you sent this prompt expecting Vic being protective of Eddie god i’m really sorry to disappoint because that’s not at all where this went. sorry for all the angst. hope you enjoy! - also thanks @anticmiscellaney for the beta and suggestions you helped me a lot!

also vic is a psychopath i don’t know why i suddenly felt the need to do an olympic dive into his feelings 

cw: homophobic slur

#136 “You had a nightmare, tell me what it was about so I can fix it.” + Vic/Eddie

It’s you I hate

Because you have the nerve to make me feel. – GMF, John Grant

If there’s one thing Vic would never tell anyone, it’s that he had nightmares. It was a secret so shameful, so removed from the image of himself he wanted to project into the world, that he kept it buried, hidden deep within the sunken pit of his soul, enclosed by layers of hate and violence. Those were things he liked about himself: the brutality, the ruthlessness, the sadism; these things he welcomed and embraced, they made him accept himself as he was. The fear, however, had no place. 

He would never talk about the nightmares, wouldn’t even think about them, lest the truth leaked out of its lair, seeped into the outside and stained him. He wouldn’t let it reveal himself and spoil his face, his stance, letting everyone know he was not immune or indifferent to the cruelty of the world. 

The first time he had one of those nightmares, he was 13. It was the first time he had ran away from home too, after a specially rough beating from his dad. He wandered the streets late into the night until he passed out on a bench in the bus station, and had bolted awake in sudden panic, drenched in sweat, confused and scared. He remembered nothing from the dream but darkness, cold, and fear. And a sensation of desolation and loneliness, like he’d been abandoned in this world and nothing or no one would ever save him from this solitude.The substance of the dreams would change with the years, but the feeling would always be the same.

The whipping from running away was almost worse than the one that had caused it. 

Since then, he’d had nightmares every time he slept in an unfamiliar place: when he moved out of his house, the first time he’d stayed the night in Eddie’s guest bedroom, when he went to jail, of course, scared shitless of making any noise and letting someone find out what was going on. He had them his first nights out of jail too, in the halfway house, but at least there he got his own room. Then Eddie and Joe had hooked him up with that fake job and not a week later he was given leave from the house; that son of a bitch Scagnetti had shaken his hand and wished him well too, the bastard, as if he was not expecting him to get back into jail soon enough. 

So this was his first night of freedom (this time for real). On top of everything, the Cabots had given him the keys to an apartment, rent-free (don’t worry kid, you’ll pay for it when you can, you’re working for us, did time for us, it’s the least we can do), but had invited him to stay at their house anyway. He had accepted. 

Eddie showed him to the guest room, the same one where he’d stayed countless nights years ago (and where he hadn’t stayed, when he chosen Eddie’s bed instead), and Vic wondered if the old familiarity of the place would save him from the stupid night terrors. Shit if he knew. 

“But you can stay at my room if you want, you know.” Eddie lifted his eyebrows with a smug grin full of intention. Vic shrugged casually. 

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” Better be safe than sorry. 

Eddie did a poor job of hiding his disappointment as he left the room. “Oh, well, whatever, I’ll be there if you need anything." 

"Sure.” Eddie left the door open and Vic closed it behind him. 

It pained him a little, hurting Eddie, but there was nothing he could do. He wouldn’t risk waking up in a cold sweat next to him, or speaking in his sleep or something like that. Besides, he would be back to his normal self in a few days. 

So he slept alone, had a nightmare, and woke up in the middle of the night panting and trembling, his heart beating so hard in his chest it hurt. He laid alone in bed afterward, unable to sleep, and for a fleeting moment considered going into Eddie’s room and curling up beside him. He quickly pushed that desire deep inside, buried it along the fear and all the ugly things, away where it could not disturb him. 

The next day he went out for a long run, fucked Eddie until he begged for some rest, and then exercised in their home gym. He was determined to make his body so tired that it had no other choice but to let him sleep the whole night through. But he made a mistake; 

he invited Eddie into his room late at night, hoping a quick fuck was just what he needed to fall fast asleep rapidly, but then dozed off before he could remember to tell Eddie to go back to his room. 

He woke up a few hours later to a soft voice in his ear and gentle hands shaking his arms. 

“Hey Vic, wake up.”

At first he blinked and looked around confused, but then woke suddenly and jerked from the touch, squinting at his friend. 

“Hey hey, it’s me Toothpick, it’s Eddie.” Eddie was kneeling on the bed beside him and holding his hands up, palms open as in surrender. “You were having a nightmare.”

“What? No. I don’t have nightmares.” Vic sat up on the bed and tried to appear composed as Eddie chuckled. 

“Yeah, you do. You were mumbling something.”

Vic brought a hand up to his face to rub his eyes, in part to wake himself up and in part to hide his expression; with his other hand he gathered the sheets up to his waist. He usually was never shy around Eddie. 

“I said I wasn’t.”

Eddie was laughing cheekily now and approached him. Vic felt heat pooling in his chest and a rush of anger.

“C'mon Vicky,” Eddie said. He was trying to embrace him. “I’ll tuck you in if that’s what you want. I’ll give ya a kiss goodnight so you don’t have more nightmares." 

"I said I don’t have nightmares, you faggot!” Vic pushed him away, and Eddie had to plant a feet on the floor to avoid tumbling backwards off the bed; his face turned sour. 

“Well fuck you, Vic. I was only joking, Jesus.” Eddie turned away and started to gather his clothes scattered around the bed. 

“Get outta here.” Vic turned away from him and laid in bed again, fixing his eyes on the wall. 

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He heard the voice of Eddie fade as he walked out of the room, and then the loud slam of the door. He tossed and turned in bed for the rest of the night. 

The next morning Vic woke up early so he could avoid Eddie (who had an habit of oversleeping) and get out of the house unseen, but he had forgotten Joe was an early riser too. 

He was eating his breakfast as fast as he could when Joe cleared his throat and said, without lifting his eyes from the paper he had in front of him,“I heard you guys fighting last night.”

Vic froze, the toast in his hand hanging mid-air between the plate and his mouth. “I…”

“Whatever it was about, I don’t give a shit. But I don’t want doors banging in my house in the middle of the night.” Joe looked up now, straight into Vic’s eyes. 

“I’m really sorry, Joe. It was my fault.” Vic held Joe in very high regard; all he had right now, he had thanks to him. He felt ashamed that the man had to scold him.

“As I said, I don’t care whose fault it was. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He went back to looking at the paper. 

“Of course Joe. Sorry.” Vic shoved what was left of the toast into his mouth, grabbed his plate and mug and left them on the sink, then went straight out of the house. 

He spent the entire day sulking about in the streets and in bars, trying to entertain himself and straying away from sobriety as the hours passed. He even picked up a couple of fights, punched a couple of assholes in the face, and got a few punches in return. His face would hurt the next day. When night came around he didn’t know what to do. Going to his apartment meant sleeping like shit, maybe not sleeping at all, but going back to the Cabots’ probably meant facing Eddie, which he wasn’t in the mood for. In the end he decided to go back to Eddie’s, but hung out until late to avoid running into him. 

All the lights of the house were out when Vic got inside, which made him sigh with relief. He kicked off his shoes in the hall and carried them upstairs, trying to be as stealthy as possible as his head throbbed, and crossed the hallway to his room. He stood in front of the door, put his hand on the knob and pushed in, then stopped and turned back to look at Eddie’s closed door. 

He’d been a dick to Eddie the night before. Eddie had gone too far teasing him, true, but he’d been a dick. Vic knew he should apologize, but he didn’t really want to. Looking at the closed door just made the anger surge in him again. Just as he was turning to get in his own room Eddie’s door opened and he walked out. 

They both froze in place, transfixed by each other’s gaze, blue piercing blue. Eddie’s face composed a scowl, but he said nothing. Vic squinted at him, focusing his glare and trying no to sway. He’d drunk way too much and he was clutching the knob so hard his fingers hurt. The stillness was broken by Eddie, who sighed slowly and then turned around, going back into his room and leaving the door behind him open, like an invitation.

Vic stood there a moment longer, staring at the darkness beyond the doorway, until very slowly he turned too, and went inside his own room, shutting the door at once.  

He stirred out of sleep a few hours later, clutching the sheets and feeling like his brain was swimming in his skull. He had to bring a hand to his head and lay back, try to get the headache and the palpitations away by breathing deeply for a few minutes. It wasn’t working, and he was growing increasingly nervous. Vic didn’t know what to do, and it fell like he was going to panic any minute now, lose control of himself and surrender his body to the fear. He was terrified by the idea of something like that happening to him. 

Finally, he bolted out of the bed and out of the room, still in his shorts and barefoot. Eddie’s door remained slightly ajar, and without hesitation he opened it and went inside. He got into Eddie’s bed as quietly as he could, grabbed a pillow to have something to hold on to and tried not to touch the other man. 

Eddie shifted on the bed and felt the sheets with his hand towards Vic, his eyes still closed. 

“Is that you Vic?” he blinked with difficulty, trying to come around. “Are you okay?”

Vic knew he mustn’t look it. His brows were deeply furrowed but his eyes were wide open, focused on a point beyond Eddie’s head. He was clenching his teeth firmly, and said nothing. 

“Hey, Vic…” Eddies voice was hoarse. He brought a hesitant hand up to touch Vic’s shoulder, approaching him slowly. Vic didn’t react until Eddie’s fingers brushed his skin, then he bolted up and grabbed Eddie suddenly by the collar of his t-shirt. He didn’t push him out, didn’t pull him in, just stayed there, inches away, holding him firmly. He might be scared, but he didn’t want Eddie’s pity.

“It’s okay Vic, it’s fine.” Eddie brought both his arms around him to embrace him now, pull him closer, but Vic fought his hold, squirmimg and trying to shove him away.

“Let go of me Eddie.” They struggled for a moment, panting, Eddie tugging and Vic drawing him away, an awkward dance of limbs, but what Eddie lacked in muscle he had in weight, and Vic was too drunk to hold him back. He soon felt overpowered by the other man, surrounded by his arms and cradled close. 

“Fuck Vic. You and your stupid nightmares. What are you afraid of?”

Vic pushed him with all his force and grabbed his collar again with just one hand, the other closed in a fist and pressed against Eddie’s jaw. He was trying to contain the urge to hit him in the face. In the darkness his eyes burned with anger.

“I am not afraid.” 

He let go of Eddie at once and turned away, curling against the edge of the bed. Soon Eddie laid on his side too and huddled a bit closer without actually touching him. Vic could feel the space lingering between them, infinite.

#my writing #toothpick bitchslap #im so sorry lol #i promise the next thing i write will be fun and fluffy #vic/eddie #Vic Vega #Mr Blonde #Nice Guy Eddie #reservoir dogs #fic #ficlet #cw: homophobic slur