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shibaraki · 10 months

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LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

synopsis: slow to heal and forced on sick leave, a lonely Todoroki Shouto decides to download the latest popular app, Enigmail, to cure his boredom. he finds you. the rest is… well. moderately disastrous.

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, pen pal au, hero personal assistant reader, prohero shouto, strangers to friends to lovers, injury recovery, online friendship + eventual romance, feelings development, misunderstandings, identity reveal, pining, sexting, masturbation (male chara), making out + heavy petting, getting together, *slaps roof of fic* you can fit so much fluff in this thing

wc: 17K

It started unexpectedly—with a tremor.

Rather, it started with Oda Shuichi, the prolific villain known as Tremor. At the time of the incident his quirk had been unregistered, but doctors quickly found that it severely affected an individual's motor neurons. According to them the length of time that he has a five point touch hold on someone influences how long they will lose motor function—and how poorly their muscles atrophy.

Shouto spent three uninterrupted minutes trapped in his clutches.

“I promise I’ll come by and visit whenever we can. You’ll still get updates and reports through your work email,” Midoriya tried to assure him with that signature smile, brows drawn together into an almost pleading expression. “It’s just for a little while!”

“For a month,” Shouto pointed out petulantly. Nori, his elderly adopted cat, stirred from her place on his stomach while restless fingers combed over her short pale fur.

“A month,” Midoriya parrots. He offers an apologetic grimace and leans over where he lies horizontal, slumped and agitated, to fluff up the couch cushions behind him. The newly crowned Symbol of Peace obviously felt needlessly responsible for the situation at hand. Shouto had only allowed Tremor to grab him so Deku and Suneater could get the hostages out, after all.

“Taking a break isn’t so bad, Shouto. And Hawks told me you’ve yet to actually use any of your vacation days,” he continued. “Even Kacchan takes time off. Do you know how many hours you have to work to outdo Kacchan?”

“I’m sure you could tell me exact numbers”.

“Don’t be mean,” Midoriya said, dithering as he peers around the room, slightly unfamiliar now that the furniture has been temporarily moved around to make navigating the space easier. Thanks to an on-call specialist Shouto would still be able to walk in short bursts, but he’d have to gradually build up strength and stamina over the weeks to come.

A pleased sound reverberated in Midoriya’s throat as he finally discovered the TV remote, setting it beside Shouto’s phone on the arm of the chair. “Okay. There,” he hooked an ankle around the coffee table and dragged it a little closer. “If you need us to get you anything from the store just text us”.

Shouto grumbled. Midoriya sighed, fondly exasperated at the childish display. Before leaving he moved the nearby pair of crutches within reach, listing off all the things he can think of, “Hey, maybe you can catch up on Quirky Hearts now! Or read that series Iida said you’d enjoy. There’s that new app I heard about, too. Enigmail? That might be fun”.

The anonymous pen pal app, Enigmail, exploded in popularity after its release in the spring. Shouto barely knew a thing about it, only that you needed to be over eighteen and chatting partners were assigned at random. Nothing about that sounded tempting.

Midoriya’s suggestion hung over his head for the rest of that afternoon. Quirky Hearts droned on in the background. Halfway through the first episode Shouto had yet to retain any information. Nori hardly left her spot. Jaws stretched wide around a yawn, lips pulled back to display what remained of her teeth. He liked to think she sensed his inner turmoil, though realistically, she was likely too lazy to move.

Curiosity prevailed in the end. The logo featured a pink post mounted mailbox, the slot unhinged to receive a folded paper plane. Shouto opened the app onto a pretty basic interface that followed an almost pastel theme. The profiles are barebones. He supposed that was purposeful. It asked for pronouns and a nickname, offering the option to pick an icon from their default library, but nothing more.

From what he could discern skimming over the rules he would be assigned to a random chat room with another person in a speed dating style interaction. A timer would count down from two minutes and upon completion prompt the user to either switch partners or remain talking.

A simple concept. But anything had sounded better than sulking horizontally and staring dead eyed at reality television for the remainder of his night. And when was the last time he met somebody new?

Almost every username he could think up had been taken. Even his hero name was unavailable. In a last ditch effort he settled on a miraculously accepted Sooba and scrolled through the icons. “Hey, it looks like you,” he murmured, pleased by the regal white cat icon. She hadn’t heard him, but sunk her dull claws into the meat of his forearm as he turned the image to her, those dramatic yellow eyes dilating at his coo, “Don’t worry. You’re the only Nori in my life”.

Shouto clicked start.

The first few users are odd, and without tact. Others communicated in languages he couldn’t understand. He stuck around regardless—luckily the developers had thought to include a translation tool, and Shouto managed to befriend one or two people with innocuous pictures he’d taken on previous patrols alone.

Then there’s…

XpLoveGuest ▻ Hey sexy

By that point early evening had already flooded through his balcony doors and drenched everything in a gauzy orange glow. His nose wrinkled. “You have no idea what I look like,” he thought aloud, switching to his right hand to roll the ache from his left wrist

▻ ASL?

Shouto frowned in faint confusion. He minimised the app to search up the term. Results flowed in, and after a brief look over everything he discovered they all repeated the same description. It’s an old acronym.

His thumbs tapped across the keyboard in quick succession.

Sooba ▻ Age: 27 ▻ Location: Tokyo ▻ Sex: No thank you

The chat immediately disappeared. A loading symbol blinks in the centre of the screen. He snorted, and suddenly a new chat opened with a different username blinking at the top corner. It’s a bit on the nose.

‘InsertNameHere’.

You shared the same default cat icon, which he took as an immediate plus.

But a minute elapsed and nobody spoke. There was an unusual trepidation on your part. Shouto chewed his bottom lip. He contemplated starting the conversation when suddenly three dots skipped across the screen, indicating the other user was typing something.

InsertNameHere ▻ You’re not going to send me a picture of your dick, are you? ▻ If you have one that is.

Shouto’s mouth parted in soft surprise, then pressing defensively thin, and he had glanced around his living room as though someone were there to witness this weirdness alongside him.

Sooba ▻ I have one.

InsertNameHere ▻ Ok. Well I don’t want to see it.

Sooba ▻ It sounds like you see a lot of dicks.

Not once taking his eyes away from the screen, Shouto felt for the TV remote and paused the show, brow arching at your next response.

InsertNameHere ▻ And it sounds like you’re new here.

Sooba ▻ I am. My friend recommended I try this to cure my boredom while I recover.

A few beats passed. He eyed the countdown looming over your shared interaction, conscious of how little time is left. You were the first interesting person he’s come across. Though he supposed that isn’t saying much.

InsertNameHere ▻ Recover? That sounds bad. Are you alright?

Sooba ▻ Injury at work. I’ll be fine in a few weeks.

Just as you were beginning to respond, the timer cut out. Shouto reflexively expelled his frustration and Nori lifted her head toward the abrupt movement of his chest, ears twitching. She blinked up at him in disapproval for shaking her. “Sorry sweet girl,” he murmured, wearing a small smile as he scratched under her chin. So temperamental.

A familiar pop up in the cartoonish shape of a postcard covered the chat. Your messages blurred into the background. It read: Do you wish to continue corresponding?

Shouto clicked ‘Yes’. And apparently you did too, because your contact pinned itself to his in-app mailbox.

A melodic chime pinged from his phone. Confetti burst across the off white background in pixelated blooms.

✎ CONGRATULATIONS! You have a new pen pal ✐

InsertNameHere ▻ Guess I can keep you company in the meantime. ▻ You’re the only sane person I’ve come across so far.

Shouto smiled, even as the muscles in his cheeks protested. It’s a stubborn reminder of his condition. He repositioned himself to lessen the strain on his wrists, chin tucked to his chest where his phone is propped, and said:

Sooba ▻ I’d like that. :)

The fortnight that followed is slow to pass. An endless cycle of wake, stretch, eat, lightly exercise as instructed by his physiotherapist, play with Nori, eat, watch Quirky Hearts, stretch. Midoriya stopped by, bringing Iida along with him. Jirou sent him playlists to listen to. Fuyumi called every evening and shared the phone with his mother, gentle in their fretting. He assures them all that he’s coping just fine from the Shouto-shaped depression in his couch cushions.

But there’s also you; the stream of consciousness keeping his seams together, lest he fall apart from the complete and utter boredom he’s been forced to endure. In the beginning he wasn’t sure of the rules. Talking online is not his forte and neither is making new friends. That entire first morning was spent ruminating whether or not texting you ‘good morning’ was strange, and estimating how many times was appropriate to message you before he violated some invisible social boundary.

Normal had been irrelevant until now. Normal, to Shouto, consisted of avoiding his father’s phone calls, sending the occasional concussive text message—indecipherable to even the greatest cryptanalysts—and giving Nori updates in the 1A Grad group chat.

Sometimes he’ll open the app to see you typing, pausing, typing. Imagining you, a faceless someone, equally uncertain about your footing pleases him a little. In the end he figured if you didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t respond. Evidenced by how you often saved him the trouble by messaging first, sometimes as early as five o'clock in the morning. Apparently you worked irregular hours in a rather unpredictable industry. Shouto weighs the possibility that you might be a fellow hero—or something close—more than he cared to admit.

Any trepidation he felt would always dwindle as soon as a notification lit up on the screen. He reads your username and his insides turn over.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ve escaped to the break room. ▻ Do you ever think about how we don’t have muscles in our fingers? How fucked up is that?

Shouto smirks, pulled away from the conversation at hand. He unlocks the phone in his lap, beneath the kotatsu to remain hidden, an attempt at being inconspicuous as he replies.

Sooba ▻ I try not to think too much about anything.

You throw back a few laughing emoticons and satisfaction washes over him. “You’ve been texting a lot. Who’s got you smiling like that?” Natsuo asks slyly. He’s cross legged, tie tossed irreverently over his shoulder, shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, having come straight from work. “A special someone?”

Shouto forces the muscles in his face to relax into feigned nonchalance. “Nobody. Nothing,” he says unconvincingly.

Rei enters the room with a modest tray of dango before Natsuo can open his big mouth. She’s wearing a bi-coloured hoodie. The sleeves slip as she sets the treats down on the table beside the green tea Fuyumi brewed earlier; another gift from Yaoyorozu’s family travels. Natsuo’s face twitches under Shouto’s unbroken stare, which is daring him to bring it up while their mother is here.

Then his phone vibrates and any possibility of peace is shattered.

His mother glances curiously at him, expression soft in the dewy afternoon light, and she smiles. “Are you speaking to one of your friends?” she asks. “Please tell Deku ‘thank you’ for sending me your new Shouto hoodie. It’s very warm”.

The words fill something cavernous inside him. Soothes the ache with gentle wonderment. She smiles down at his hero logo printed proudly across her chest, rubbing the hem between her finger and thumb. A younger Shouto could have only ever imagined it.

“I’m not so sure it’s a friend this time,” Natsuo teases, spoken with a playful, sing-song cadence. “Shouto wouldn’t text at the table and risk facing Fuyumi’s wrath just for a friend”.

Shouto does not pout. “I would risk anything for my friends,” he says, affronted; anything maybe except his older sister's well intentioned nagging. “…It’s a new friend, that’s all”.

Rei perks up, settling on her knees and laying the kotatsu blanket over her thighs. The quiet sound of plates and cups clinking together fade in from the kitchen. Natsuo hums, unconvinced, and hides a smile behind his mug. It's moments like this, when the people he loves are gathered in one place, and he can hear them in every corner of his home, that he’s glad for buying a smaller apartment.

“That’s wonderful, Shouto,” Rei murmurs as Fuyumi pads into the room, Nori not long behind her, threading through his elder sister's ankles. She too arrived right after work, donning a suit-skirt and blouse. “What’s their name?”

His thoughts stutter. Fuyumi’s nose wrinkles seeing the panic stark on his face. “Who are we talking about?”

“Beats me. Ask him,” Natsuo says, taking a stick of dango between his teeth as he tries not to grin when Shouto’s phone vibrates a second time. “I want to know who’s so eager to talk to my little brother”.

InsertNameHere ▻ Sooooobaaaaaaa ▻ I’m on my lunch keep me company

Shouto snatches up his phone to respond. He brings it closer to his face to allow Nori access to his lap. She monopolises the space instantly. “You’re not a teenager anymore, Shouto,” Fuyumi laments. “No phones during family time”.

“I know. I’m sorry, nee-san. I just need to…” his thumbs dance over the keyboard, head ducked in amalgamated shame and apology.

Sooba ▻ Question ▻ InsertNameHere ▻ What is your name?

InsertNameHere ▻ At the personal info stage already? You move fast. ▻ Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.

That stirs a faint unease in his gut and he understands better then. Anonymity is what gives people a sense of security and he isn’t exempt from that. In truth, right now he doesn’t want to know what might change if you knew who was on the other end yet.

Sooba ▻ You can call me whatever you want.

“Shouto”.

InsertNameHere ▻ That’s not even a line is it. ▻ Man. You’re dangerous.

Sooba ▻ ???

Shouto stares at the flickering dots by your username. You type, then stop. Type, then stop. As if you were deleting and starting over again. A habit of yours he’s quite endeared to. “Shouto!” Fuyumi huffs, poking a manicured finger into his side. Though short, the nail still causes him to flinch, and he’s quick to stretch his phone out of reach as her hand swipes through the air. “I mean it!”

Nori is jolted. She voices her immediate displeasure and Rei titters into her sleeve. The sleeve with his name stitched into the fabric. He breath catches, like it always does when his mother laughs. “Shouto doesn’t have to tell us anything until he’s ready,” she assured, offering him a gentle look—a look so sincere he feels awful for being evasive.

And his feeble resolve fractures.

“I don’t know,” he confesses bluntly. Natsuo and Fuyumi frown, at one another and then back at him, in unsettling synchrony cultivated through siblinghood. Shouto shrugs and pulls at a stray thread in his jeans cut loose under Nori’s claws, “I can’t tell you a name because I don’t know it”.

Natsuo appears mildly surprised. Fuyumi sinks into disbelief, feet curled beneath her body, going lax at his side. She drops her arm. “You… don’t know it?” she repeats.

“The app is anonymous,” he supplies hastily, attention flickering to his mother, far more worried about discerning her reaction. She’s unreadable. “My name isn’t on there either. We just talk about stuff”.

“Stuff?” his siblings' voices overlap, told apart only by the difference in tone. Natsuo’s shock has melted into some strange mix of pride and innuendo. “Is it that penpal thing everyone has been talking about? Enigma?”

“Enigmail,” he mutters. Natsuo lights up. Fuyumi does not share the sentiment.

“You’re a hero, Shouto! What if it’s someone with bad intentions?” she frets, brows drawn down and together, mouth pressed thin. “They could be tricking you. The internet is rife with predators, and—!”

“Nee-san. I’m a grown man. I understand the importance of internet safety,” Shouto interjects.

Natsuo slumps onto the table with a mawkish sigh, the sound steeped in fondness. “Let him have fun. You know he’s right, ‘Yumi, he’s an adult. It’s a wonder where all that time went,” he says. A few beats later he’s abruptly straightening his spine, “Gods, Fuyumi. You’re almost thirty five!”

Fuyumi glares from behind her glasses. She reaches across the kotatsu and swats lightly at his bicep, “Do you have to say it like that? You’re thirty one!”

“Please. Stop arguing,” Shouto says. He pets the unperturbed cat curled up on his thighs, “You might startle Nori”.

“Shouto. She’s deaf”.

Rei cuts their bickering short as she breathes, “When did you all get so big…” a serene smile hung on her lips, not a hint of grief to be seen. The answers surrounding your identity—or lack thereof—are lost to the nostalgia cloying in his throat.

They return to enjoying tea and dango after that. Shouto sets his phone face down on the floor and turns off vibrate. For now, he wants to ward off further interrogation.

His mother intuits this and steers the conversation in another direction, “Natsuo, how have things been at your new job? Are they treating you well?”

Things are good. Fuyumi’s class would soon be graduating, an award for Best Teacher polished and positioned on her desk. Natsuo had landed the job he always wanted—a medical welfare officer working closely with trauma survivors—and was already making waves. His mother, Rei, finally finished cultivating her traditional garden, weaving tales of lush foliage and water spouts. Touya too has been improving in his rehabilitation programme, according to his psychiatrist’s reports.

A tremor quakes through the tendons in Shouto’s forearm as he lifts his tea to sip the remaining dregs. Yaoyorozu outdid herself this time. If he hadn’t already known the price he would have discerned it from the refreshing, uniquely sweet taste. Thoughts of you cross his mind in these instances without warning. Would you like it? What’s your favourite tea?

Shouto scrunches his eyes shut as if it might wash those thoughts away. How is it that the stranger in his pocket possesses the ability to awaken such yearning in him; he feels mildly ashamed to have realised his loneliness with an audience.

The hour rolls into another. Shouto scrapes the last dango along the skewer with his teeth, jutting his chin to evade Nori’s curious sniffing. “This was lovely, Shouto. Thank you for having us over,” Fuyumi expressed as she carefully ran her hand along the feline's back.

Sensing the finality, Shouto motions to stand and sets Nori on the couch. Everyone protests it. He huffs, sliding a crutch over from where they lay nearby and letting it take his weight. A good decision, he thinks, inwardly grimacing as the blood rushes to his feet, prickling like violent white noise under his skin, and his knee almost gives out.

“I’m okay. The doctor told me I should be trying to move around more anyway,” he tells them, deigning to mention that he expended most of his energy tidying up this morning before their visit. “You’re my guests. I want to walk you to the door”.

Shouto tries not to bristle under their wary scrutiny. A cool hand slips around his arm then. His mother’s natural chill seeps through the sleeve of his shirt and allays the irritation. “We appreciate it, sweetheart,” she says.

“We do,” Fuyumi gently insists. “We’re happy to see you recovering well. Right, Natsu—?”

“Kiss tax!” Natsuo exclaims, oblivious to his surroundings. He scoops Nori up from the arm of the couch. She is comically tiny pressed against his chest. A continuous indignant drone rumbles in her throat as his brother peppers firm kisses to the top of her head.

“Put my baby down,” Shouto deadpanned.

“She isn’t your baby,” Natsuo slides one hand under Nori, the other carefully tucked into her armpits. He holds her close to Shouto’s face. Dramatic round eyes stare back; a flat expression emphasised by prominent cheekbones. Barely a hair's breadth between them, Nori begins to swipe her rough tongue against his scarred cheek. “See? You’re her baby”.

“Mine, too,” Rei rises to her tiptoes and scratches behind Nori’s ear, turning a smile toward Shouto. That same hand moved to cup his cheek. Though far taller than his mother, Shouto tips his head and finds himself feeling incredibly small as she presses a kiss to his forehead. “Your hair is getting long again,” she adds as she pulls away.

“I can trim it if it’s bothering you,” Fuyumi nods, sidling up beside Rei to survey the growth together. She brushes back the wayward strands framing his face and Shouto blinks. “Though, I think I like this look on you. What’s it called? A wolfcut?”

“I’m not sure. This is how Mina cut it a few months ago,” he replies.

Natsuo interjects without Nori in his grasp, now notably covered in short cat hair. He claps Shouto on the back and pulls him into a firm side hug, “She did good. Our handsome little Shouto”.

Initiating physical affection with his family was still a weary affair after all this time, though patently one sided. Having them touch him so freely always left him a little stupefied.

After they depart, Shouto hobbles to find his phone with all the grace of a newborn fawn. It is face down under the kotatsu cover right where he left it. And as it blinks to life, he skips the notifications from the 1A group chat to find your screen name at the bottom.

InsertNameHere ▻ My boss has these awful little nicknames for everyone in the agency. Mine’s ‘Maestro’. Nerd and butterfingers, too, but mostly Maestro. ▻ To do with my quirk and role, I suppose. Good for morale etc. His creativity astounds me (๑ಕ̴ _̆ ಕ̴) ﾝ？ ▻ Not that I don’t appreciate it but. Well shit, what about my morale? Lol ▻ You there? ▻ Sorry if I scared you off by getting personal.

Shouto worries at his bottom lip. Maestro. Something new about you. A foreign feeling churned in his chest. Faint, barely there, but new enough for him to notice. He’s not sure how to pin it; whether your mention of working at an agency bothers him or the fact that others, people who are not Shouto, get to see you everyday, close enough to give you a personal nickname.

Sooba ▻ Sounds like you have a good relationship. I’ve got a close friend who sounds similar. People say it’s just his love language ha ▻ And you didn’t scare me off. I’m the one who asked. Some family came to check on me.

He barely thinks it over before adding:

▻ My mother said hi by the way.

Your reply isn’t immediate but it is quicker than he expects.

InsertNameHere ▻ You’re right. I do like my boss sometimes. Maybe. And I love this job but I think it has aged me ten years. My ulcers have ulcers! ▻ Also—telling your family about me now too? We really are moving fast.

A soft huff of laughter jumps in his throat. There’s a distant clamoring near the kitchen. The sound of Nori’s bowl being pushed around the tile. Her absence clicks in place when he looks at the clock. He should feed her soon.

Sooba ▻ Technically it was only my mother, older sister and brother. ▻ But I can relate about the work stuff.

InsertNameHere ▻ Yeah? You mentioned being on leave because of an injury. Do you like your work?

That’s a question he has never asked himself, nor has he ever felt the need to. Heroism was the path life handed to him. The path he ultimately followed of his own volition. Shouto loves his family, his friends. He’s good at his job—enough to have made it into the top ten. And isn’t that all that matters?

Sometimes he would take a long, weary look out the revolving agency doors, recognise the heaviness in his bones and give the entire thing a second thought. But that never made any difference. Because people needed him. And he needed them too.

There’s a fleeting urge in that instance; a temptation to come clean, if only to sate his own curiosity. To compare the idealised image of what you looked like or how you sounded. He’s spent many a shameful night thinking up romanticised scenarios in his mind about what it would be like to meet you in real life. Shouto always squashes it. He doubts you’d believe him.

Ever perceptive to his moods, Nori chooses that moment to pad in from the kitchen and sit herself directly in his line of sight. She wails, demanding attention and lacking any volume control.

Right now he is not a hero but a man alone on two unsteady legs with a small living thing reliant upon him. He’s just Todoroki Shouto. He’s just—

Sooba ▻ As of right now my occupation is ‘Nori’s dad’. I like it pretty well.

Your reply is immediate.

InsertYourName ▻ Oh you have a kid?

Nori’s frustration grows. Her tail swishes back and forth, agitated. “It isn’t time to eat yet,” Shouto tells her, pulling up his phone camera and zooming in. On her next yowl the shutter goes off. The picture is perfect. Mouth wide open, large ears flat and nose wrinkled in displeasure, lips curled up to display her pink gums.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_0243] ▻ Something like that.

It’s a risk and he knows it. Though infrequently his team has posted Nori to his social media in the past at the delight of his fans—she was younger in those pictures, but if you were well acquainted with him there was the possibility of you putting the puzzle pieces together.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh my god sooba. She’s so cute. Give her everything she asks for, you monster. ▻ Hey. Are those Ingenium themed crutch pads?

Anxiety rockets through him. He pulls up the photo and sure enough, his crutches are in the corner of the frame, laid within reach beside the couch. Secured around the handles are Ingenium themed pads to cushion his palms.

Sooba ▻ They are.

InsertNameHere ▻ Is he your favourite hero?

He turns his phone over in his hands before he types, overcome by an abrupt restlessness.

Sooba ▻ One of them. ▻ Do you have a favourite hero?

Nori wanders off in his periphery and not long after he hears the telltale sound of cardboard being torn apart. You stop typing, replies coming to a halt. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

It becomes clear you’re offline. Shouto spends the evening imagining your answer—ducking sheepishly at the idea that you might say him, then cringing at his reaction—and reading through his work emails.

Partnering with Hawks hasn’t been the worst thing in the world. Despite his carefree demeanour and general lack of personal space Hawks was professional and meticulous when it came to his work. As promised, Shouto was CC’d into every important thread and forwarded every significant incident report each day. Apparently there’s a big fundraiser tonight that he is unable to attend.

Hawks suggests matching Endeavor’s donation in spirit. Shouto doubles it.

The night air barely touches him. Leaning against the balcony railing he surveys the cityscape. A kaleidoscope canvas. He stares until the pinpricks of light stretch and bend, streaking his vision, regaining shape when he blinks. Nori is curled around his calf, playfully kicking her back legs at his ankle. She’s careful to never break skin.

It’s nearing midnight when you get back to him. A disconcertingly vague reply of:

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ve had enough of heroes.

Shouto waits for you to elaborate before presuming anything nefarious. He would hate for Fuyumi to be correct. She’d never let him forget it.

▻ Shit that made me sound bad, didn’t it? I promise I’m not a villain

He snorts, reclining himself into one of the chairs on his patio. Yaoyorozu insisted upon helping decorate the space. This piece in particular had been chosen by Uraraka, if only for its cocoon, egg-like shape. She always sat in it if she came over; Shouto can’t say he blames her, now curling up inside it himself, leaving one foot flat to the floor for Nori to cling to.

Sooba ▻ Only a little bit lol.

InsertNameHere ▻ I just mean for today! I’ve had enough for today! ▻ There’s… a whole lot of them at this work event I’m attending is all. ▻ See! ▻ [IMG_0589]

It’s the first picture you’ve ever sent to him that wasn’t a meme. Your legs are crossed, turned inward to show more of the showroom floor. There are people everywhere. You’ve overturned your lanyard in your lap, straps dotted with the charity logo, to display the back of your security pass. No identification. Just proof that you’re there—

Proof that you’re a real person, giving colour to the vague, shapeless figure in his head. The figure once outlined only by random tidbits, like your favourite food, the music you like, the movies you loved as a child. The figure now clad in tight fitting, seemingly pearlescent sheer material from the waist down.

—Shouto swallows dryly.

You have nice hands. He tries not to linger on that.

▻ That’s why I disappeared, btw. Sorry about that. ▻ I feel weirdly underdressed.

The logo on your lanyard has recognition prickling in the back of his mind. Hours earlier Midoriya had texted him two pictures from the ‘HEROKIND’ fundraiser Hawks mentioned. One being a selfie of him and an aggrieved Bakugo, each wearing their own fitted suit, and another of Uraraka in an evening gown stood behind the imposing silhouette that was his father, stealthily pointing her middle finger at his back.

He saved that one to his camera roll.

Sooba ▻ In that case I will close the HPSC anonymous tip line ▻ Sometimes people try too hard at those events and forget why they’re there. You look good from what I see.

InsertNameHere ▻ How very gracious (´・｀ ) ▻ Sounds like you have some experience with this kind of thing. My condolences lmao ▻ But thank you. I’m glad you think so.

Shouto entertains the idea of sending you something back. His eyes surreptitiously flicker around as though being watched. Nothing revealing who he is, but enough to maybe—

The camera captures a few of the modest flower beds and cat grass lining his balcony, Nori coiled around his bare ankle. He looks at his hand. Shuffles his hips further down to mirror your angle and flexes his fingers in his lap. Heat floods his body, guided by the shameless desire to inform the image you might have of him in your own head, too.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_288] ▻ At least you’re having more fun than I am.

You type for a long ten second interval. Then restart. A tedious minute elapses and just as regret creeps in, your messages come through.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’m not so sure about that. ▻ Actually it would probably be more bearable if you were here with me.

The sound of his heartbeat floods his ears. So warm it’s like he’s standing under the sun. Shouto belatedly realises it’s just his quirk, as the steam blows out through his nose. Nori butts his ankle in complaint. He bends to take her into his arms, feeling ridiculous and somewhat bad at being a person.

Sooba ▻ Think so? ▻ Just so you know I have been called socially inept on numerous occasions.

InsertNameHere ▻ Then we can hide together in the corner, get tipsy and sneak bits of the fancy spread.

This—doesn’t happen to Shouto. “Nori. I have feelings for a person I’ve never seen,” he pushes his face into Nori’s fur, and she purrs, feeling the vibrations of his voice. Admitting it aloud only highlights the absurdity. He feels out of his depth. And he decides he’s glad for the anonymity. Grateful, even. Lest he publicly humiliate himself and set off every fire alarm in the vicinity.

Sooba ▻ That sounds perfect.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ll hold you to that. There’s another one of these coming up in two weeks. ▻ Prepare yourself (ꈍᴗꈍ)

“You’re really not helping,” he continues. Nori rubs insistently under his chin. “Fine, fine. I get it,” She croaks as he presses into the touch, mimicking her movement and cradling her as he gets up.

Before retiring to bed he pulls up Yaoyorozu’s contact. He settles into a comfortable position in the covers, propping his phone on his stomach, and he types:

Shouto : 00:14

I think I need help.

Consciousness eases into him slowly. It’s a sleepy pastel morning. Dust dances in the soft spotlight cast through his curtains. Shouto’s jaw unhinged to release a long yawn, limbs stretching every which way under the covers as his joints click.

Shouto props up on his elbow, twisting in place to reach and unplug his phone. He blinks away the blurriness hemming his vision and squints at the stack of messages from Enigmail right at the top of his notifications.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh shit. Hero Shouto donated double the amount of what Endeavor gave and he couldn’t even be here tonight. That’s hilarious. Can that guy get any hotter ▻ I didn’t intend for that to be a pun. ▻ These cocktails are becoming suspiciously easy to drink. ▻ You’re probably sleeping like a good boy but I miss you. Wake up! ▻ Have you ever had feelings for someone you’ve never met

The loose tongued messages stop there, at around one o’clock in the morning. Then there’s a seven hour jump to only ten minutes ago.

▻ Oh my god. Please ignore all of that. And then kill me.

Hardly awake, sleepsand still crusty at the corners of his eyes, Shouto’s mind reels as he considers pinching himself. He doesn’t know which part to focus on. Your apparent—and unknowing—attraction to him as a public figure or the implication that you had feelings for Sooba.

But you’re obviously embarrassed. So he bites back a smile and starts with something simple.

Sooba ▻ Good morning to you too ▻ Remember to drink water and take some bufarin.

Sitting upright with legs hung over the bed, Shouto clicks out to his text app by way of distraction. There’s another photo from Midoriya. This time it’s just him. Speckled light glitters along his cheeks, expression beaming as the hero holds a piece of sashimi in front of his pink face. Shouto heart reacts to the text.

InsertNameHere ▻ Send more Nori

He chuckles, sleepy. That makes known Nori’s absence. Strange, he muses. She is usually the one to wake him. Rather than search he scrolls through his albums to find a photo you hadn’t seen yet. It was taken a few months ago. He’d slipped his camera under her chin and pressed the shutter when she looked down, looming over the viewer with a dumbfounded look.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_142]

After a few minutes with no response, assuming that you had accepted his bribe and sought out some painkillers, Shouto braced against his bedside table and stood, phone in hand. Every muscle in his body felt like wet sand, held together by too tight skin. This morning, though, the incessant ache that beat alongside his heart was gone.

Walking still felt as though he was wading through molasses but strength was steadily returning to his physique.

The floor is cool under the soles of his feet as they shuffle down the hallway. There’s a noise in the kitchen that gives Shouto pause. A voice, hushed yet high pitched voice, cooing like someone might to an infant.

He drops into an ungainly defensive stance, pyjama bottoms and all. Worst case scenario they at least hang low on his hips, loose around his legs, leaving room for flexible movement. He rounds the corner without a sound.

And relief beats like a drum in his chest.

Yaoyorozu meets his gaze from the kitchen island where one hand is petting a very happy Nori, sipping from a glass of water with the other. Her face is bare, shadows soft under her eyes, hair pulled haphazardly into a low ponytail as if she had just rolled out of bed and rushed here. Creati in a bleach stained hoodie and leggings. The press would have a field day.

The sight brings a small smile to his face. Their schedules have been misaligned for months. It’s good to see her—if only her expression had not then darkened. “Todoroki Shouto,” she says with all the authority of an older sibling, “What on earth was that text last night? You had me worried sick”.

“Text?” he parrots dumbly, looking to check his phone.

InsertNameHere ▻ Painkillers acquired. Thank you Nori ▻ I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.

“I let myself in with the key you gave me. I hope that was alright,” she continues, quiet and apologetic now. He skims over your reply and switches to check his text app. Sure enough the last thing he sent to her was an ambiguous plea for help.

“Of course it’s alright,” he replies, regarding her with a meaningful look to cover for how sheepish he truly feels. “I gave you the key because you’re always welcome here”.

Yaoyorozu smiles on the end of an exhale, idle hands smoothing down Nori’s cheeks. “Of course,” she echoes, examining his form closely now her anxiety is assuaged. Over him comes the muted awareness that he’s being judged. “How about we go on a short walk for once, since I’m here? The weather is quite pleasant”.

Shouto steps forward with mouth downturned, “Momo, I assure you I’m fine. You don’t need to walk me like a dog,” he says, wincing thereafter at his bluntness. She only hums.

“When was the last time you went anywhere?”

Very uselessly he replies, “I go places”.

Yaoyorozu’s potential to lead and assert had never escaped him, not even in his teenage years, and it was something he staunchly admired her for. But never has he resented his own affinity for compliance more than he does the moment she ignores his pouting and tells him to finish his morning gait training and get changed.

Dressed casually and statuesque in the centre of his living room, left leg lifted to mimic a flamingo, Shouto’s limbs shake far less than previous days. He can hold his phone while he balances now, too. You haven’t sent any new messages. Probably waiting for him to assure you that he isn’t upset, but even so he’s a smidge disappointed.

Sooba ▻ I’m here. A friend appeared in my kitchen. ▻ You don’t need to apologise for anything, I wasn’t uncomfortable. I've received worse drunk texts I assure you.

He switches to his right leg and chews the inside of his cheek. Facing villainy was far less daunting than navigating his feelings.

▻ I thought it was cute.

That’s about as brave as he felt today.

Yaoyorozu resurfaces from the coat closet with a jacket in hand and a pep in her step. There’s something else coiled around her wrist. Nori’s cat leash, red and attached to a blue harness, matching Shouto’s hero colours.

“Can we bring her along?” she asks, bouncing in place. Upon recognising the leash Nori makes her opinion known, releasing a drawn out yowl. “Oh please, Shouto”.

Nori didn’t regularly enjoy walking but she had been trained to do so from a young age. She was peculiar and picky, and Shouto trusted her to let him know if ever she wanted anything—something she never failed to do.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, bending to tap her nose. It wrinkles, a stray tooth flashing between her lips. “If you get tired I won’t carry you”.

Nori blinks. A lie and they both know it.

Shouto sighs, defeated. “Okay. She hasn’t wanted to in a while so I can’t really deny her”.

“Wonderful,” Yaoyorozu breathes, handing him his jacket before undoing the harness and crouching to slip Nori’s paws through one by one. “We can grab a warm drink to go from the cafe downstairs and talk”.

Shucking the jacket on and flattening the collar, Shouto dithers in the genkan with his crutches nearby. He tucks the wayward strands of hair into a knitted hat and loops his mask around his ears. The scar couldn’t be helped but atleast this way a majority of people would not think to look twice.

They leave the apartment together, all three. In the short time it takes to step out of the building's lobby you still haven’t replied. He shoves his free hand in his pocket, fingers clasped around his phone in case it vibrates.

The establishment across from Shouto’s home has been open for longer than he’s been alive. An elderly couple named Pierre-Louis and Tsutomu run the place. The two men moved back to Japan decades ago to care for Tsutomu’s sick mother, and with Pierre-Louis’ incredibly unusual coffee quirk ‘Bean Boost’, opening a cafe seemed the right route to take.

Since moving here they’ve endeared themselves to Shouto. If they see him on his way to work Tsutomu will often rush to offer him a takeout cup. This morning is no different.

“Mon petit chou!”

Tsutomu slides open the walk up window and calls his name, beckoning them closer. The breeze tousles the short grey curls around his ears. Shouto’s heart near stops when the older man leans out to greet Nori as she stretches upward and almost loses balance. “Tsutomu-san, please be careful,” he says.

“I am still rather spry, young man. Don’t worry about me,” he returns happily, gaze moving to Yaoyorozu when he rights himself. “Lovely to see you again, Momo-chan. Have you come to rescue our prince from his cave?”

Indignant, Shouto grumbles, “I wish you would all stop acting as though I’m a hermit. I haven’t been stuck indoors that long”.

The two level him with a look of doubt. Tsutomu gently pinches his cheek and rubs a thumb over the swell above the mask. “Your pallor betrays you, Shouto. Let the sun kiss you more, no? We worry”.

“Tout va bien?” another voice interjects. Pierre-Louis squeezes up next to his husband, ignoring his disgruntled noise, and brightens when he sees Shouto on the other side. “Mon chou, you’ve emerged! And with two beautiful girls at your side”.

Yaoyorozu muffled a laugh while Nori busied herself chewing on the nearby grass, leash never pulling too far. “Pierre-Louis,” Shouto murmurs, unable to keep the fond lilt out of his voice. “It’s good to see you both”.

“And you,” he beams. The wrinkles by his eyes deepen. Shouto never met his grandparents but he thinks perhaps this is the closest he’ll get. “Are you going anywhere special?”

“We’re just taking a walk, Pierre-Louis. I thought it might be nice to get a warm drink for the journey,” Yaoyorozu spoke warmly and nudged his side. “Where better than here?”

“Bien sûr! Will that be one earl grey and one green tea?”

Shouto nods at her questioning glance, “Loose leaves today, please”, he adds.

Pierre-Louis disappears to make their drinks, shortly returning with two takeout cups, steam pluming softly from the mouth. Shouto swaps his crutch to his right side and accepts the green tea with his left hand, heat seeping through the cardboard sleeve.

“How much will it be—?”

“Nonsense,” Tsutomu interrupts with a sudden switch to English. He shakes his finger, silencing any protest, and his husband gives a resolute nod in support. “Take it, mon chou. Call it a family discount”.

Shouto bids them a dazed goodbye, leaving the walk up window; a lump in his throat that he tries to wash down with hot heat, tongue impervious to the temperature. “They’re very sweet. I’m glad you have them,” Yaoyorozu muses. “What is it they call you? ‘Chou’?”

“Mon petit chou,” he repeats clumsily, accent slightly gawky. “I asked Aoyama a while ago and he told me it means ‘my little cabbage’”.

Yaoyorozu pauses and Nori continues ahead, leaping up onto a nearby half wall with her tail hooked high. She pounces on a crack between the bricks, blissfully unaware of the nearby traffic, trying to eat a ladybug.

“My little cabbage?”

Shouto hums, squinting up at the early sun, rising in a blanket of pale blue and mottled grey clouds. The air is refreshingly cool. “Apparently it’s something French parents call their children,” he shrugs, as though he were not then warmed from the inside out at the reminder that they truly did see him as one of their own.

“That’s lovely,” she says, slowing to match his pace. He’s not tired so much as he is enjoying the morning dew. They follow a familiar path. Turning down a hidden narrow walkway that leads to a neighbourhood park. Nori’s chitters fill the spaces left by comfortable silence.

Yaoyorozu suggests sitting at one of the picnic tables. Tall trees flanked the area on either side, columns rising to create a weave of foliage that shrouded them in gold. The old wood is cold under his thighs. Nori hops up onto the bench, ears flat to her head, and hisses at a dog across the way which hasn’t even noticed her presence.

“So,” Shouto glances over toward Yaoyorozu as she speaks. Her arms are settled on the tabletop, fingers curled around the disposable cup and swirling the liquid inside. “Are you going to tell me what you were panicking about last night?”

He picks at the cardboard sleeve, twisting it, and supposes this was inevitable. Slipping down his mask, Shouto brings the tea to his lips in distraction, grasping for a way to articulate his situation without simply saying: “I have feelings for my anonymous online friend”.

In the end he realises there really isn’t any other way.

Yaoyorozu listens intently, as he expected she would. Of all his well intentioned friends Shouto knew she’d be the most open to his reasoning. Her expression visibly softens while he wrings his hands and rambles about the palpable connection that he first attributed to his own loneliness—

Rambles about you; you, the one now carried with him everywhere, the presence weaving his days into tapestry; you, accepting of his random thoughts, giving of your own; you, unintentional charm and bad jokes and sharp wit; you, faceless and voiceless, the one to receive first and last thought.

He expels his fears. Concerns of who you really are. Of what you might think upon learning his identity—if you wouldn’t like him anymore, or if his own feelings might change after meeting you offline, and if that makes him a terrible, shallow person.

Then he mentions the photo from the Herokind event and her head cocks in interest. “May I see?” she asks. Shouto murmurs his agreement and pulls his phone out from his pocket.

You’ve messaged him.

InsertNameHere ▻ Appeared? Like, teleported?? ▻ I’m glad we’re ok. I would miss you otherwise. ▻ But you can’t know I’m cute. You’ve never seen me lol

Shouto is typing back with unfounded confidence before he realises it.

Sooba ▻ I don’t need to see you to know that.

Then his eyes flicker to Nori, staring up at him clad in her Shouto themed harness, lip caught on her scraggle tooth. He takes a quick picture. Examining it before sending, he notices Yaoyorozu’s slender hands in the background, and wonders if you might be jealous.

He scoffs inwardly at his own childishness and sends the photo.

▻ Not teleported hah, just came in with a spare key. We are out walking now.

“Sorry—I just wanted to reply first,” Shouto clears his throat and presses his phone into her now proffered hand. Given without question.

Something flickers in her expression at your photo; it’s a brief shift that flies over her gaze like a shadow. Her thumbs pinch and part on the screen as she zooms in. “I was there for a few hours last night,” she says. “I recognise this outfit. Would it not be easier to check the list of attendants?”

“…That doesn’t feel fair,” he admits soberly. “I know that’s silly”.

“It’s not silly,” she affirms with a small smile, fingers now moving as she types. “You are aware of your position. You have the resources to find them and presumably they do not. Of course it seems unfair”.

It’s testament to their friendship that he feels no need to check what she’s doing. Her brows furrow slightly, then arch into her hairline, eyes brightening. Pleased, Yaoyorozu locks the device and hands it back.

“What did you do?”

“Don’t worry. I didn't do anything untoward,” she replies. “But I do know who you’re talking to now”.

Shouto’s fingers flex around his phone. “You do?” he breathes, incredulous. Just like that?

Yaoyorozu nods, lending her attention to Nori. “I don’t have a name. But if you want to find them I think you’ll want to speak to Bakugo-kun”.

“Bakugo…?” Shouto echoes.

“I believe your friend may work for him,” she clarifies. Ah. The clamouring in his head comes to a halt. In hindsight it’s clear. Your nicknames make sense now.

“I’ll think about it,” he swallows, bringing his tea to his face for another sip. He finds it tepid and warms it again with his quirk. Yaoyorozu doesn’t push.

They spend the hour catching up on the things Shouto has missed in the weeks he’s been absent, and the weeks prior. Midoriya’s claims of him being a workaholic become a reality he can’t outrun. Tea finished, Shouto takes both cups and disposes of them in the recycling bin. Yaoyorozu stands from the picnic table with Nori cradled to her breast—Nori stares back at him, smug—and they make their way back to his apartment.

“Shouto,” she coaxed, now standing outside the tall glass doors leading to the lobby. Nori’s claws sink into the collar of his jacket as she’s passed to him. He takes her leash from Yaoyorozu, bunching it up; and she covers his enclosed fist with her hand.

“Go for it,” she tells him, giving a firm squeeze. “I’m rooting for you. Just be safe”.

Stepping back into his apartment, his cheeks are warm and his limbs are trembling. You’ve buzzed inside his pocket three times.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh my god. How can such a perfect creature exist? And her harness! Shouto colours? ▻ I hope you’re having fun. <3 ▻ You know, you never answered my question from last night

“You don’t think I’m hopeless, do you Nori?” Shouto asks the thin air—Nori has already scrambled toward the nearby shoebox, bunny kicking at the corner as she chews. He sighs.

Yaoyorozu’s encouragement rings loud in his ears while he replies.

Sooba ▻ Yes. I think I’ve had feelings for a person I’ve never met.

And it feels like a confession.

Shouto sees the week come to an end before he finds enough strength, physically and mentally, to visit Bakugo’s agency.

Your conversations have evolved. They carry a flirty undertone now, the verbal toeing of the line that makes his heart pitter patter. You send pictures throughout the day. Always angled away from your face. Swathes of skin. A pen between your fingers. Stacked paperwork and an empty coffee cup. The burgeoning skies on your walk home. Comfortable at home, your legs crossed over the other, a fluffy slipper hanging at the end of your foot.

He never knew so much thought had to go into making a photo appear candid, effortless. At one point he purposefully shuffled his workout shorts lower on his hips and spent the remainder of the afternoon mortified with his head deep between the couch cushions.

Liking another person is humiliating. He feels exposed, like a flesh wound that you won’t stop prodding.

InsertNameHere ▻ [IMG_412] ▻ I hope you have a good day!

You’re sitting at your desk, presumably. A slide knot bracelet hangs loose around your wrist. Hand held out over the mouse and keyboard, you’ve pinched your thumb and finger—smudged with black in—together to make a heart shape. It’s cute. You’re cute. He files the pose away for any later run-ins with paparazzi. His PR has been getting on about trying harder when they photograph him for months.

Shouto’s body rocks with the train car as it careens down the tracks and readjusts his grip on his crutch. He smiles behind his mask, sinking into the confines of his hood which he has pulled over his cap. There are eyes on him today. It can’t be helped in such close quarters. But they’re uncertain—too afraid to bother him and be wrong about his identity.

Sooba ▻ You too :) ▻ Remember to take breaks. I read that you should spend five minutes away from your screen every hour.

InsertNameHere ▻ You have to stop making me smile at work. My coworkers think I have a secret husband or something.

Sooba ▻ I promise to send you off with a homemade bento tomorrow morning.

InsertNameHere ▻ And a kiss.

Shouto grabs the nearby pole as he is almost knocked on his feet. Passengers board, others depart, and his heart hammers in his throat like a fist.

Sooba ▻ A kiss?

You’re still typing a reply when Shouto hears the hesitant evocation of his name. It’s timid and hushed, belonging to a person trying to restrain their excitement. She covers her mouth with a gasp when he meets her eyes.

“It is you,” she bubbles. A metallic taste pervades the static air around her, short hair wiggling on end as if it were responding directly to her excitement; behaviour unbefitting of a typical reporter, he notes.

Your text box jumps onto the screen in his peripheral vision, bumping up the chat. He jolts and angles the phone away from her just to be safe.

InsertNameHere ▻ Yeah! A bento box and a kiss to get me through the day, obviously. As my husband.

There are three others a few feet away, huddled together beside a pillar and abuzz with energy. Mild dread churns in his stomach. Definitely not a reporter, then. “If you have a moment…” the young woman spares a glance over her shoulder and her friends excitedly encourage her forward. “Um. Would you maybe be interested in—”

“No,” Shouto replies. The young woman winces at his tone. Ah. She’s embarrassed now. He really should make a habit of lying in consideration for other people's feelings. Fuyumi did mention that, though not in as many words. Before her face can crumple further he continues, “I’m very sorry, that was rude of me. I’m in a bit of a hurry”.

Her relief is palpable, near contagious. Expression softened with understanding she folds her hands against her stomach and ducks into a slight bow. “Of course, I understand,” she says. Somehow it makes him feel worse. “And—I’m glad you’re well, Shouto-san. We’re all wishing you a complete recovery”.

Gratitude bubbles inside him. He smiles, pressing a finger over his mask, and her complexion turns a bright shade of pink. She nods in understanding, scurrying to her friends.

Shouto departs the train without disruption. The conductor takes stock of his gait and the crutch at his side, offering to lay out the ramp, but he politely refuses, stepping onto the platform with ease. He feels good; closer to his other self, the one before his muscles were run through a metaphorical centrifuge.

Sooba ▻ Obviously. ▻ I suppose I can add ‘house husband’ alongside ‘Nori’s dad’ on my list of occupations now.

Blast Zone isn’t far, a fact for which he’s grateful. Bakugo insisted on rooting himself in the centre of the city, right in the spot where all transport routes seemed to meet; there stood the symbol of victory’s headquarters, imposing in the skyline.

According to journalists at PowrStruct magazine The Blast Zone agency is an ode to modern architecture. A steel frame structure surrounded by reinforced concrete, an outer coating embossed with a texture that gives the award winning building the fragile appearance of having been meticulously glued back together while simultaneously being both blast proof and earthquake proof. Shouto cares not for design in general. He does, however, steal a mini Dynamite themed pen from the front desk while he’s waiting to be signed in.

There’s a thin chain attached to the cap with a Chibi Bakugo hung on the end. Sue him.

“He’ll see you now, Shouto-san,” the receptionist states, pupil-less eyes blinking back at him. Shouto tucks the pen into his sleeve, feeling foolish and somewhat nervous. “Head on up to the office on the twelfth floor. He knows you’re on your way”.

Shouto clears his throat. “Thank you,” he says, weakness in his knees that has nothing to do with his nerves. The Ingenium handle pads cushion his palm as he braces onto his crutches, supporting him toward the nearby lift. There are eyes on his back as he goes. They’re heavy, lingering like physical touch. Something in him spoils at the unnecessary pity.

The lift remains mercifully empty. He presses the twelfth floor button and it glows green. The ride up is smooth, and quick. Double doors slide open onto a sprawling office space flooded with natural light. No one bothered to glance in Shouto’s direction as he gawked. If he remembered correctly this area was specifically for employees that worked closest to Bakugo. They’re all so nonplussed and focused. No nonsense. He likes that.

“Loser,” Bakugo grunts. He appeared from thin air, standing aside with arms crossed over his chest, eyeing Shouto’s stiff form with suspicion. “What the fuck are you doing here? You’re still on leave”.

Shouto makes a noncommittal noise, inwardly miffed. He straightens his posture and takes more of his own weight. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. Maybe I missed you,” he says. Bakugo’s expression suddenly soured, as though he swallowed a lemon, mouth thin against his teeth.

Amusing as it is, acknowledging the disconnect aloud makes him truly accept the distance he had put between himself and his friends; how he’d worked too hard, untied himself from the tangle of their lives and ended up isolated.

“Nori told me to say ‘hi’ by the way”.

Bakugo sweetens. “She like that cardboard house I sent you?”

“She already destroyed it,” Shouto admits. And Bakugo laughs, irritation split by a crooked grin.

“Atta girl,” he nods in approval, turning on his heel and starting toward a pair of towering doors. “Oi. You comin’? Or are you going to stand there all damn day?

Dynamite’s office is anything but corporate. Professional, yes, but it’s also so plainly personal in a way that screams Bakugo. A setup reconfigurable for days that he can’t sit still, a folding treadmill under his large mahogany desk to keep him moving. Bakugo works better on his feet, something Shouto knows well.

Built in shelves line the accent wall, filled with framed pictures of friends and family, newspaper clippings and awards. There are even fan creations—mostly from his debut era, when being favoured felt far more significant, but Shouto finds it sweet all the same.

Walking ahead of him, Shouto approaches the desk. Bakugo lingers for a beat to holler something out the door before returning to his desk.

Two consult chairs face the head office chair opposite. Lowering into one of them, Shouto props his crutch up and takes his phone out of his pocket. Ever hopeful, he unlocks it, opens Enigmail and refreshes the chat list. There are new messages from a few other people he added in the beginning, but nothing from you. He tries not to sigh too obviously.

“What’s got you all fuckin’ mopey?" Bakugo leaned over to look down at the phone. Shouto hastily locked it and the explosive hero narrowed his eyes at the impassive veil Shouto pulled over his face.

“Nothing. How did the first Herokind event go?” he asks, fiddling with his newly acquired Dynamite pen. “Midoriya always sugar coats things for me”.

“Went fine. You didn’t miss anything,” Bakugo waves off. The leather office chair creaks as he leans back. “Boring as all hell since it was just the kickstarter. Food mild enough for a toddler to eat and too much alcohol. The auction will be more interesting. That birdbrain partner of yours was hilarious, though”.

“Hawks?” Shouto’s mouth twitches, failing to conceal his mirth. “What did he do this time?”

“Spent the night antagonising your shitty old man,” Bakugo pauses for a brief moment and rescinds his words. “Or aggressively flirting. Can't tell the difference with him”.

Shouto keeps his thoughts to himself on that one.

“Ended with Endeavor triggering all the sprinklers at the after party though,” Bakugo ends, eyes crinkled under the weight of his wicked grin. Shouto pursed his lips tight. Amusement huffed through his nose. He imagines his father standing in the middle of the room, pathetically soaked through, wisps of smoke rising from his put-out embers, and he laughs.

Bakugo looks rather pleased by the reaction. But then his gaze flickers over Shouto’s shoulder and his brow arches expectantly. “Did’ya need something? I shouted for the Egghead because I thought you were on your break”.

Shouto’s laughter dwindles as he follows Bakugo’s line of sight. His breath catches. An employee stands in the doorway peeking around a tall box of paperwork. Wide eyed as they examine him.

Wrapped around their wrist is a familiar sliding knot bracelet.

“I just—uh…”

His head spins. There’s a smudge on your finger where your pen's ink leaked, just like in the photo. Could this be you? You are—

“What the hell has gotten into everybody today,” Bakugo tuts, pushing up from his desk and striding over to receive the box himself. Your shoulders slump when you are relieved of the weight. Bringing your hands to your chest and massaging the joints.

—still looking right at him. Cute. He cannot help but think how cute you are, tripping over your words, losing your footing.

“Oi, maestro,” Bakugo clicks his fingers in your face and startles you out of your stupor. “Get it together. I need you with a clear head when that sleepy bastard from the HPSC gets here”.

You glare at Bakugo, “Mera-san is the least of your problems, Dynamite. Worry about yourself and the six unanswered emails I forwarded to you from the claims manager”.

You’re beautiful. And your voice, it’s so—his lips part, and he tries to speak, to interrupt Bakugo’s incessant teasing, but words fail him.

“Whatever. Those insurance claims are bullshit and you know it,” Bakugo mutters. He turns and moves to shove the box of paperwork beside the desk. His mouth downturns into a smirk when he stands and notices your attention drawn to Shouto once again.

“Is that everything? I’d appreciate it if you stopped gawking,” Bakugo drawls, a dry rasp to his taunting that seems to embarrass you further. Shouto isn’t sure he’s breathing. You’re right there. You’re within reach and he’s rooted to his chair.

“You’re such a—! Y’know what, no, I’m leaving now,” replying harshly you start toward the open door where you come to an abrupt halt. Shouto feels the distance like the pull of a leash. You incline your head into a short bow, losing strength in your voice as you acknowledge him, “Have a good afternoon, Shouto-san”.

Then you’re gone. He stares after you dumbly. In all the years he has worked in the hero industry Shouto has never been more thankful for choosing to make his given name his brand than he is now.

Bakugou falls heavily in his chair and sighs.

Shouto swallows, “Who was—”

“Don’t,” Bakugo stresses the command, as though telling a dog to heel. Shouto can feel the heat behind his pointed glare. Undeterred, his eyes linger after you, stuck on the spot where you once stood, heart beating like a hummingbird’s wing.

“I mean it, Halfie. Run off the only competent PA I’ve ever had with your pisspoor flirting and I will kill you,” Bakugo barrels on. There’s no true malice but it comes through gritted teeth, like he has resigned himself to the impending stupidity. Because Shouto is already looking back at him with that small, impish curl to his lips.

“I’m not that terrible at flirting,” he says.

“Making eye contact for three uninterrupted minutes is not flirting,” Bakugo scoffs.

Shouto hums. “And what is? Pulling their pigtails for ten years?”

“Watch it,” Bakugo grouses, bottom lip jutting. He kicks the leg of Shouto’s chair and he laughs; he’s missed this.

Hoping to get back on track then, Shouto asks, “Will you be attending the charity auction, then?”

The other man grunts an affirmative. “I’ve put some memorabilia and shit up to be sold. Sparky somehow convinced Eijirou to auction himself off for a date,” Bakugo snorts and gives an amused shake of his head. “I’m willing to bet he’ll rake in at least ten million yen. Minimum”.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Shouto agrees. Kirishima had grown a lot since graduation all those years ago. Pair a stocky build with a big hearted guy like him and everyone is tripping over themselves to get a piece. “Is he nervous that he won’t make much?”

Bakugo clicks his teeth, interlocking his hands across his midsection and getting comfortable. “He really hasn’t got a fucking clue. The HPSC schmuck I’ve got to talk to today has already suggested extra security in case certain high profile guests get resentful,” he says. Crimson peeks through narrowed eyes, considering, calculating. “Are you gonna go? You’re looking steady enough”.

The last Bakugo had seen of him was directly after the incident—crumpled into the fetal postion and involuntarily spasming with six second intervals. Unable to speak, to walk, to turn his head. Worst case scenario presented on scene was that he could lose the ability to function at all, and Shouto had been thrown into a pit of depression so oppressive that he withdrew from himself all together.

There’s an underlying relief in Bakugo’s question that comforts him in ways he wasn't aware he’d been seeking. Pleased, Shouto drags his crutch between his thighs and twists at the padding around the handle. “I’ll be in attendance. I plan on bidding on a few things. David Shield’s original design sketches maybe,” he admits. “…Will ‘maestro’ be there?”

Bakugo seems to parse the response carefully, as if it cracked open a hole into Shouto’s psyche. “Izuku is shooting for those, you know. I’m the one that’s gotta deal with him cryin’ if he loses”.

“I know,” Shouto’s mouth splits in a wry, intentional smile. “If I’m not outbid then I’m happy to give him whatever I win”.

“Shill bidding? Ha. Izuku never believes me when I tell him you’re secretly a dick,” Bakugo smirks. A thought visibly crosses his mind. He props his elbow on the arm of his chair, chin resting in his palm and considering Shouto closely. “…My PA will be there for the auction. Working. So if you show me up—”

“I won’t,” Shouto interjects.

“—I will see you to the pearly gates myself,” Bakugo continues, unperturbed. There’s no true malice to his tone, moreso fond resignation, and Shouto’s chest bubbles with affection for his hard headed friend.

“That’s nice of you,” he says sincerely.

“Get fucked. You want an update on the cases we opened this week or did you seriously come here just to annoy me?”

“To annoy you, mostly,” Shouto ducks away from the hand that swiped at him. “Hawks forwarded me the arrest report. Tremor ended up going for a plea deal?”

“Yeah. Sold out the extras that helped him gather the hostages,” a forceful click of the keyboard; Bakugo slaps the spacebar to wake his monitor and makes clear his disapproval. “They went too fuckin’ easy on him,” he sneers. “Deserved a longer sentence”.

“As long as they’re off the streets,” Shouto muses. He isn’t one to hold a grudge against villains who’ve harmed him, but he can understand his friends' frustration. Had it been Bakugo or Midoriya, Shouto too wouldn’t be so quick to accept this outcome.

The gentle light flooding through the office windows recedes a fraction as a dense cloud covers the sun. His visit to the Blast Zone is but a blip of time, cut short by the foreboding ring from Bakugo’s emergency pager. He’s up and moving immediately, routine woven into him like muscle memory, and Shouto can’t help feeling jealous.

Under the door to his office, Bakugo clears his throat. He cocks his head toward the impending rain, “You need me to have someone drive you home?” And appears to regret it right away as Shouto smiles up at him, touched by the suggestion.

“No, thanks but I’ll be fine,” he waves off. Bakugo departs with a grunt, demanding he take an umbrella from the receptionist, because who doesn’t check the weather before they leave the house. The thud of his work boots reverberate off the walls as he disappears around a sharp corner, and Shouto shifts in the residual silence.

He takes out his phone as he pushes upright on his crutch; a habit rather than necessity. You haven’t messaged him since before your paths crossed—though you wouldn’t know that. He sighs. A niggling guilt has burrowed into his chest but it remains largely outweighed by his impatience.

Employees greet him on his short journey to the lift he arrived in. Bowing their heads, evoking his name with appreciation and awe while he’s scanning the space for signs of you. It’s a fruitless affair. Coming up short he steps inside, frown etched into his brow, and presses the ground floor button.

The speaker alerts him that the doors are about to close. He turns on his heel, leaning a hand on the support bar. Looking up from his shoes his eyes fall on your figure. You’ve stepped out from one of the closed off rooms, thumb tapping away at the phone in your hand. Shouto swallows, watching his own with trepidation.

Sensing a heavy gaze your eyes flicker to meet him at the last second, contact through the crack right as it shuts. He can hardly think. If this were a scene in Quirky Hearts he thinks he might just cast aside his dignity and sprint up the fire escape to confront you. The mere idea has heat simmering under his skin; it makes him want to fold himself into singularity. Shouto, a top five hero, a sword without ire.

Waiting dutifully, the receptionist hands him an umbrella from behind the staff desk. He squints at her name tag, muttering “Thank you, Akiyama-san” while he tucks the umbrella under his arm, deigning to mention the murky blueish blush that floods her skin, those pupil-less eyes shimmering. Shouto pulls his mask up over his nose, breath warming his cheeks, and takes a moment to observe the street.

Throngs of people scurry along the pavements to get away from the unforgiving chill. Raindrops can become a thousand paper cuts when the wind wills it. Afternoon starters amble into the lobby with wet shoulders. In his departure nobody so much as looks his way.

Sooba ▻ Hope you didn’t forget an umbrella today. Stay warm.

His thumb stopped mid-air, right above the “send” button. Sparing a lasting glance to the upper floors, Shouto quickly presses it, pockets his phone and opens up the umbrella. Stepping into the storm white noise fills his ears, tapping harshly on the PVC canopy over him.

Shouto tugs his jacket closer to his chest. The pavements are soaked, water fed into the uprooted cracks. He threads through the moving bodies back toward the station. With the streets overcast he feels better concealed.

A train is already waiting at the platform, decorated in yellow. The colour identifies it as a slow running train, taking the local stops route rather than the rapid one. He hides in his collar and stands in the corner of the carriage, umbrella collapsed and hooked over his wrist.

Six stops later—rather than three—and Shouto is closer to home. In the time it took to reach his street the rain had thinned out, now a sparse sun shower as the clouds pushed eastward.

Nori yells accusingly the very second his key slots into the door. He turns the lock and pushes it open, holding out his foot to keep her from rushing past. “I know, I know. I’m sorry sweet girl,” he scratched her head while bent to line up his shoes. “I missed you too. Bakugo said ‘hi’”.

She mewls and circles in place on her delicate paws, flicking her tail at him. Shouto takes it as forgiveness. “I think I met someone special today,” he recites to her, “The one I told you about…”

Stopping in the middle of his warm apartment, Shouto becomes unbearably aware of how damp his clothes are. He fishes his phone and wallet out from his pockets and sets them on the kitchen island before padding toward the bathroom.

A thorough rinse and long soak later, Shouto sprawls himself across his couch, phone laid on his chest and arm hung loosely over the edge while Nori plays with his fingers. She clings to his forearm as he cups her full belly, lazily dragging her back and forth across the floor.

He’s sipping on the mouth of his water bottle, mindlessly watching as Aki-or-something begs for Saeko-or-other to take him back after going on a date with another contestant, when your messages come through on Enigmail.

InsertNameHere ▻ Guess what happened today ▻ Saw Pro Hero Shouto at work. ▻ I think he might hate me? lol

Shouto inhales sharply, choking on his mouthful of water. Tears prickle behind his eyes as his diaphragm spasms, and he tries to catch his breath, fist thudding at his chest. Oscillating between mortification and delight—it really had been you.

Sooba ▻ Why would you think he hates you?

InsertNameHere ▻ I left an awful impression. And he looked at me like this (⊙＿⊙’) the whole time.

Heat burns at his nape; embarrassment spilling over into every crevice of his body. The air around him distorts and he exhales, steam curling from his lips. Nori watches on from the floor in fascination, sparing no sympathy. Maybe Bakugo had a point.

Sooba ▻ Maybe that’s just his face.

InsertNameHere ▻ Maybe… ▻ It is a pretty face though. Prettier in person.

Shouto feels all the air deflate from his body. He sinks into the couch, head lolling against his shoulder as he turns to press a grin into the cushions, gripped by a sudden rush of endorphins. It had been you. You’re real. More importantly, you are attainable.

Now did he want to do anything about it?

Sooba ▻ You think so??

The typing dots bounce along the chat room border as you reply.

InsertNameHere ▻ I know so. I was there. Beautiful even when he is staring right through me (￣ロ￣lll)

The memory of you speaking his name echoes like a broken record. He has yet to tire of it. Though he’s lightheaded and hazy, your features are still clear in his mind. The sure fire in your eyes, your sharp tongue and your pouty lips. A slow, warm tension trickles into his gut, swooping in anticipation and breathless longing as he imagines the face you might make if he touched you.

Sooba ▻ That’s presumptuous. He was staring at you. Why wouldn’t he be

InsertNameHere ▻ I. ▻ You’re so unfair you know that ▻ If you were here I would

His breathing picks up ever so slightly.

Sooba ▻ What would you do with me

InsertNameHere ▻ Are we veering into sexting territory right now

Sooba ▻ Unintentionally.

Shouto shifts his hips. The movement pulls his sweatpants tighter around his hips and a familiar tingling rushes below his waist. When was the last time he touched himself? He brings the phone to his forehead for a moment of clarity, peering up at the screen through his eyelashes.

InsertNameHere ▻ Is this the part where we come full circle and you actually send me a dick pic

He tucks his chin, a lazy smile playing on his lips. The gentle throb in his briefs pulses throughout his body and he answers, reaching to squeeze himself through the fabric, just for relief.

Nori sneezes. He falters, reminded of her presence and overcome by the urge to cover up. Proverbial tail between his legs, Shouto retreats to the privacy of his bedroom, shutting the door with a quiet click. Evening filters in through the windows, mauve and rosy. He kneels on the bed and it yields under his weight, frame silent while he crawls to the headboard and reclines back, phone in hand.

▻ Shit, sorry. I was joking you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to

The message goes over his head. He opens the front camera and stares back at his flushed, disheveled face before tilting the device, angling it toward his body.

Frosted fingertips trail up his stomach and it jumps, laying the hem of his shirt across his chest. Down again to the fine dark hair below his belly button, goosebumps rising across skin, blood rushing to the surface. Hooks his thumb suggestively into his waistband, hand splayed across his hip, and takes the photo.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_628] ▻ I want to

Shouto. Shouto. Shouto. Abuzz with salacious apprehension he wonders what would it sound like above him? Under him? Breath knocked from your lungs, whining through the motions. He traces the outline of his clock. Covers his eyes with the crook of his arm and releases a shuddered breath, hips rising into the heel of his hand. A hand too big to be yours. Sweatpants pushed halfway down his thighs he pictured it anyway—you laid on your side, at his side, loose fist stroking him root to weeping tip.

Shouto thumbs at the head, smearing precum over his sensitive frenulum. Panting heavier, he squeezes his cock and wonders, would you tease him? Lick into his mouth and tell him not to be quiet?

The phone in his hand buzzes. Anticipation grips his heart. He almost drops it on his face when he squints up to read the screen.

InsertNameHere ▻ Fuck. You’re so gorgeous ▻ I can’t concentrate

Sooba ▻ You like it?

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ll show you how much ▻ [IMG_447]

Heat races through him. You’re in a loose tank top, touching yourself over pale boyshorts. The dark straps have fallen around your shoulders in an almost demure manner, collar slipping forward to reveal the soft cleavage of your chest. You’ve mirrored his position, albeit a little higher, enough for your mouth to be in frame. Wet and rouge, if he thinks hard enough he can imagine he left them kiss bitten.

Sooba ▻ I want to touch you

He’s desperate to know what you like. The way you want to be touched, how you might yield under his wandering hands. Patterns dance behind his eyelids as he reaches to knead his pecs, pinching the pert nipple with a breathy moan. He smooths over his abdomen, corded muscle tensing beneath the added sensation, arousal coiling hot in his belly.

InsertNameHere ▻ Touch yourself for me instead, yeah? ▻ Gonna think about you too

“Fuck,” he chokes. Shouto loses his phone amongst the sheets. Feet planted flat to the mattress, his knees spread until the waistband protests. “Please. Please. I’m so close,” he whispers to the image in his mind. His pace stutters, feverish as he fucks his fist. Your lips brush soft along the column of his throat to feel him swallow. He turns into the pillow, mouth parted for heaving breath.

“That’s it Shouto. So beautiful for me,” you’ll murmur, so at home in the crook of his body. Amidst the desperation you’ll straddle his thigh, rhythm synchronized, chests rising. Your hand—his hand—slips further, fingers curled to press up behind his balls. He’s on fire. “Cum for me, baby. Let me see you cum”.

Shouto’s head tips back into the plush of his pillow, every muscle clenched. Pleasure rockets through him. His cock twitches in his grasp. He cums with a strung out moan, breaking into short, wet pants as he catches his breath.

Riding the gentle aftershocks, his arm falls heavily to the side and hits his bedsheets with a quiet thud. The smell of old petrichor blows into his room with the draft draws his attention to the darkened window. Streaks of gold sunlight peak between the buildings across the street where it settles under the horizon.

The stickiness between his fingers is difficult to ignore. Drying steadily on his chest. Reality returns to him slowly as he stares at his soiled hand. After cleaning himself up with the wipes in his bedside table, Shouto tugs up his sweatpants and rubs at the pink splotches leading up his throat. With clarity comes a vague haze of shame and he is loudly alone; something vibrates and he is anything but lonely. He lifts his head, rummaging through the sheets to find his phone.

InsertNameHere ▻ Want you to feel good ▻ You there baby? ▻ Sooba? ▻ Hm. That’s not the sexiest of names

Shouto laughed through his nose. Endeared by your awkward jump from flirting to nervously making up for a perceived misstep.

Sooba ▻ sorry can’t multitask ▻ shouldnt make fun of your house husbands name

Exiting his bedroom is uncomfortably close to a wall of shame. He drags his feet; gait unsteady for far nicer reasons than a near career ending injury. Nori has acquired his spot on the couch, retaining warmth in his absence. She observes him, all knowing.

InsertNameHere ▻ No capitalised letters? Punctuation? What have you done with my Sooba lol ▻ How are you feeling?

Sooba ▻ really good. sleepy

He wanders to the kitchen and dithers over his next message, leaning his forearms on the cool countertop. This fleeting, unintended conversation could change everything and that fact is starting to nag at him.

▻ what about you

InsertNameHere ▻ I feel really good. And sleepy <3

The implication is not lost on him. He chews his bottom lip, flustered at just how pleased that makes him.

The next burst of chat bubbles appear in an instant, one after another. Typed hastily as though to outrun your own apprehension.

▻ Can I ask you something? ▻ Did you mean it when you said you’d come to the event with me? ▻ I have a plus one. I want to see you. But you don’t have to

Shouto swallows. Tugged between elation and fear. You’ve become all he yearns for and you could be just that, his, yet he panics all the same. Heroism had consistently been his lacquered shield. An excuse for his self isolation that people had to begrudgingly accept. Working himself to the bone afforded the luxury of never having to dwell on it.

Exhaustion aside he was content with the humdrum life he hid behind. Before you, Shouto rarely wanted for anything. He had his family, and good friends, and a job that felt rewarding; it didn’t seem worth it to lay himself bare and be dissected on the off chance that someone new might love him.

Because hectic work and risks aside, he’s profoundly aware of the ghosts he has yet to conquer. That somewhere, there is something fundamentally different inside him that you might find disappointing.

Unthinkingly, Shouto grapples with the courage in him existing on the fringes and replies in much the same way you had.

Sooba ▻ I meant it. I want to see you too. ▻ I’d like to go with you ▻ Don’t worry about a plus one. I’ll meet you there

InsertNameHere ▻ Wow, okay. That was easier than I thought. I’m so excited ▻ And super nervous

As it turns out the impending date motivates Shouto like nothing before. Days pass without fault or interruption. The man-shaped dent in his couch rises without the constant weight. He sticks closely to the routine his physiotherapist drew up for him. Walks longer distances and soaks up the sun daily, to Tsutomu’s great delight.

Too wrapped up in his own coalesced anxiety and elation, he realises he hadn’t found it remotely odd that you hadn’t questioned his ability to get into the auction.

His train of thought is interrupted by a firm hand coming down on his shoulder. “Man of the hour!” A familiar sharp toothed grin blocks his vision. Shouto clenches under the sudden weight to keep himself upright as Kirishima gives him a shake, “We missed you around here. You’re looking good!”

The charity event is in full swing. An anticipatory lull permeates the atmosphere as the chosen guests, heroes and civilians alike, wait for the auction to finally begin. Shouto arrived fashionably late, as Mina called it, after spending nearly three hours on a group call with her, Yaoyorozu, and his sister.

The applause upon his entry had not been expected. His palms are still clammy.

Compared to Shouto's charcoal three piece suit, tailored to precision, Kirishima dons a charmingly loud burgundy blazer over a dark turtleneck, pulled together by a simple chain. The material is tight across his broad shoulders. “Thank you, Kirishima,” Shouto smiles. He looks him over, “You look good too”.

That signature grin grows weary. “You really think so?” Kirishima lowers his voice into a hush, tugging at the loose hair framing his face. “I wasn’t so sure about tying my hair back. What if nobody bids for me? I’m dying inside just thinking about it”.

Shouto turns away from the sea of vibrant clothing and chatter to pat his friend on the arm and level him with a serious look. “A lot of people are going to spend money on you tonight, Kirishima. But in the impossible event that they don’t I’ll bid on you myself,” he tells him. “We can go to Mythoscape and try that new rollercoaster”.

“Bro…” Kirishima’s eyes are wide and glassy. While Shouto expects the firm hug, he is mildly surprised by the long, dramatic kiss to his cheek. His breath smells faintly of white wine. “You’re the best,” he continues as he sets Shouto back on his feet. “But is it really okay for you to do that?”

A flash goes off. Shouto frowns. He scans the crowd and rubs away the wet mark left behind. Yaoyorozu catches his attention with a delicate wave from her place beside Kendo and Uraraka. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asks, smiling back, yet distracted. You’re still nowhere to be found.

“Well,” Kirishima draws breath through his teeth. “Bakugo kinda told me about your crush on his PA,” whatever he sees pass over Shouto’s expression has him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and scrambling to explain. “Nothing bad, man! You know he actually seemed pretty approving of it, in his own way”.

The evermoving mass of bodies sharpens around a few other familiar faces. Midoriya is excitedly gesticulating as he rambles to a visibly overwhelmed HSPC shareholder. Bakugo watches the interaction with no intention of concealing his amusement.

“I’m not sure about that,” Shouto rasps, narrowing his eyes at the man in question, like the pressure behind it might be enough to elicit his attention. Bakugo of all the people here would know where you are. The phone snug in his inside blazer pocket remains silent. A pout works its way onto his lips before he can stop it. “He said I’m bad at flirting”.

Kirishima stifles a laugh and clears his throat when Shouto directs the petulant glare to him. “You are a little bad at it. But only when you’re actually trying! And even then that’s part of what makes it charming, y’know?”

“No, I don’t know”.

“You’re the type to flirt without realising you’re doing it—or atleast people think you are, because you’re handsome and attentive and whatnot. But when you try it’s kinda obvious and bro, please stop looking at me like that,” Kirishima explains clumsily, tone pitching higher the longer he talks.

Shouto’s lips thin as he tries to suppress a smirk. He rights himself as Kirishima nudges his side, catching a smile of his own, “What I meant is you have a chance. And Bakubro thinks so too. He wants you to be happy”.

The sentiment warms him from the inside out. But it also makes apparent something trepid and cold in his gut. Regardless of his friends unfettered support there remains the real possibility that he will be rejected. That you will be disappointed or scared away by his status. That you could do as you please with the intimate parts of his life ‘Sooba’ gave you.

Scarier is the hope that you won’t.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Shouto announces, noticing Endeavor prowling around in his peripheral vision. Kirishima’s brow furrows, mouth parted in confusion, no doubt seeking to reassure him. “I’m okay, Kirishima. I just need something to do with my hands”.

“Alright,” the taller man murmurs. Shouto finds himself at the end of a gentle smile once more. “Make sure to say ‘hi’ to Denks if you see him. He misses you too”.

“I will,” Shouto nods, ducking away from the inexpressible tenderness that has clung to him since stepping into the hall. People part to allow him through. His left leg has already begun to feel weak, not enough to worry but enough to notice, and he hopes he can later blame his gait on the alcohol.

He reaches the bar and wrinkles his nose at the thick amalgamation of perfume, body odour and over-applied cologne. The bartender slides up to him. “Umeshu, please,” he says. “On the rocks”.

Another body settles beside him. He shifts to accommodate them but doesn’t look; too distracted as he inhales deeply through his nose and exhales long out his mouth to allay his beating heart. Pulling his phone out from his inside pocket, the screen lights up and he finds it void of messages.

After the… sexting, things had been fine. Better in a lot of ways. You both felt emboldened to truly act on your feelings. Sharing more pictures, secrets—though never your names—and laughter. It is disconcerting that you would now go silent.

The bartender sets his drink down and Shouto quietly gives his thanks, bringing it to his face, briefly caught in the soft glimmer, cubed ice submerged in liquid gold, tasting the sweet aroma at the back of his throat. He tips it back and drinks.

As the glass hits the surface once more, the person next to him softly asks, “Are you waiting on anyone?”

And his mouth goes dry.

You’re bracing on crossed arms, watching him closely. Speckled in the warm low light reflected on the bar, you are more beautiful than he remembers, and just as nervous. There’s an air of uncertainty about you that shifts as your eyes meet, faint but palpable, encouraged by what he can imagine is the wonder on his own face.

Shouto wets his lips. The plum taste lingers on his tongue. “…I might be,” he murmurs. You brighten at his reciprocation, a more charged kind of nervous—the kind that swoops low in your belly right before you take a leap.

“If I’m wrong don’t laugh and don’t tell Dynamite,” you turn to face him and smooth your hands over your hips. This allows him a better look at your attire. Silken fabrics that form gentle lines around the waist, loose but elegantly so, not in a way that the clothes wear you.

Your eyes dipped low, averted to avoid his stare. He cannot seem to direct it anywhere else. The auction has fallen away in its entirety. As far as Shouto is concerned there’s only you.

“It’s me. And you’re…Sooba?”

The tremble in your voice shrikes through him and it occurs to Shouto that you have always been the brave one.

He leans into your space, enjoying the way you quickly draw breath at his proximity, forced to meet his gaze. Rather than something remotely suave or cool, he dumbly asks, “You knew?”

Part of him wants to tuck his shoulders to his ears as you begin to laugh. They’re warm, undoubtedly red. Amusement is not at all what he prepared for. He thought this might all end up in his scrapbook memory, to be taken out and pined over now and then.

“Shouto-san with all due respect, you came to my workplace with your very recognisable crutches and stared at me like a deer in headlights”.

“Shouto,” he says.

Your laughter simmers, “Hm?”

“Just call me Shouto,” he tells you, equal parts relieved and embarrassed.

“Shouto,” you smile at him with a fondness that derails his thoughts. He has the vague urge to whine when it wanes. “I’m—I really am sorry I didn’t tell you. I swear I didn’t know until after you visited the agency. It all made sense after I looked up your socials and saw some old pictures of Nori”.

“It’s alright. I knew and didn’t say anything either,” Shouto inclines his head, abashed. Then with a sudden sharp sort of clarity, he continues, “So then you knew, when you asked for a dick—?”

Words evade him under the warm press of your hand as you quickly cover his mouth. You glance around the room, closer than before, and you don’t seem to realise. Cautious, he touches your waist; he puckers his lips to kiss your palm; he feels your stomach jump under the silky fabrics.

Your eyes darken, swallowed by pupil. “You’re a menace,” you simper, and reluctantly pull away. “Maybe we should talk about this somewhere with less…cameras”.

Umeshu abandoned, Shouto wraps an arm around your lower back and allows you to direct him through the crowd. You weave through the moving bodies like thread through a needle, at one point reaching behind to take his wrist, becoming his tether.

Bakugo meets his gaze from across the room. His eyes flit to you, widening in surprise. Shouto flashes a boyish grin before disappearing through the side door.

The door you choose next opens to a private bathroom. Shouto surges forward, taking you by the hips and crowding you against the bathroom counter, overcome by the need to feel everything that you are pressing into everything that is him.

He kicks the door behind him and settles in the clutch of your thighs as you scramble to balance on the marble edge. Your hands slide over his shoulders, splaying over each cheek. You’re both breathing heavily despite having done nothing at all.

“I said talk,” you remind him with a tremulous smile. Shouto knows you’re being playful. He apologises anyway; rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting the moment simmer, and you comb through his hair with your fingers. A shiver rolls down his spine.

“Did you know it was me? Before you came to the agency, I mean”.

He reclines from his crook to look at you. Eye level, silhouetted by the cheap bathroom luminescence. “When I saw you in there—and put it together I was so scared,” you continued.

“Scared?” he echoed with a frown, knuckles brushing your cheek.

“Not like that. I was scared of what you might think,” you turn into his caress and his pinched expression falls away. He can’t stop touching you and he can’t bring himself to be sorry about it. “I mean, I looked terrible that day, and you appeared out of nowhere and I wasn’t mad it was you. I was just…”

You swallow thickly, emotion swelling in your eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners. “You’re so big and bright. I didn’t want you to be disappointed”.

You were unaware of it—the profound cord you struck within him. How even in anonymity, your incorporeal fingers always seemed to find it. Even now, as you echo his own fears.

“Momo first mentioned you might work for Bakugo. I didn’t know before I saw you that day. I still wasn’t certain until tonight”. You peer at him through your lashes then, listening intently. He brings your foreheads together and tells you, “There is no way you could’ve disappointed me”.

“Oh? I could’ve been a villain”.

“My oldest brother was a villain,” he monotoned, wandering hands squeezing intermittently at your waist as though to make sure you’re still there. “My capacity for love and forgiveness knows no bounds”.

You snort. The sound is abrupt and the force knocks your skulls together. “Oh—ow,” he grins, insides melting. Together you dissolve into a warm fit of laughter.

“Hey, Shouto?”

He hums in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering as your thumb swipes over the red mark below his hairline. “I like you,” you murmur. “I like you so much it’s stupid”.

Plunged into an ice cold realisation, Shouto freezes to process your words. “You—like me?”

“Yeah?” you said it like he was dense, like it was clear all along. “I can’t help it when you’re so…yourself”

And isn’t that all he’s ever wanted? To be loved without pretense, without a winner. To be special to someone for no special reason.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Me too. I like you. I want—” his fingers flex at your hips, grounding. He blinks. “I don’t know your name yet”.

Affection colours your features. Shouto likes you best like this—sure of yourself, of his feelings for you. You recite your name. He repeats it endlessly in his mind and rolls it around his teeth. He calls to you even when you’re right in front of him.

“Can I kiss you now?”

“You were waiting?” you laugh, tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s such a novel thing but it makes something monumental swell in his chest. “Kiss me. I want you to”.

Given permission, Shouto traces the curve of your jaw with a bold shyness, from the sensitive skin below your ear to your chin. His finger hooks beneath. You’re lovely. He thinks he could spend an hour describing your demure half smile, how your lips yield under the light pressure of his thumb; your tongue darting out reflexively.

He shakes at the desire that fills him. He’s not used to it—this wanting. It feels like a thousand insatiable butterflies in his chest. Dipping into your magnetism, his heart beat faster and faster with the simple brush of your lips. He kissed you, innocent and honest, and then he kissed you again, licking the seam of your mouth, arms coiling around your middle as you cling to him.

You tip forward. Your thighs clench at his waist and drag him impossibly close. It brings you chest to chest. He tries to hold you steadfast as your hand wraps around his nape, softly scratching his scalp; he feels you smile against his lips when he shudders.

You break for air. Arousal shoots through him at your half moan, the sound tapering into a happy hum the instant his lips trail down your neck, tasting your pulse before making his way down to your exposed collar. He peppers kiss after kiss on every swathe of skin he can reach, sinking teeth into every little reaction you give him.

Big hands at your lower back arch your body into his. You yield, tension sapped from your limbs, grappling his shoulders to keep yourself from falling while you grind down on his lap. Shouto groans, grip slipping lower to cup your ass.

“We’re getting carried away,” you gasp between kisses. That alone was obvious. His cock strains uselessly in his suit pants. But the light glints tantalisingly along your mouth, swollen and wet with saliva. Shouto kisses you again so you won’t have to tell him to attend to his responsibilities.

A warm breath scores his cheek as you huff through your nose, nipping firmly at his lower lip. “I mean it. I am technically still at work,” you try again, voice lacking strength. “Dynamite will knock on every door in this building—don’t wrinkle your nose, you know I’m right”.

“Alright. I know,” he rasps, barely an exhale. It takes all his willpower to pull away. He steadies you on your feet, smoothing out the creases in your formal attire while you are quite pleased to simply watch on as he adjusts himself in his pants. “I’m glad my suffering is funny to you”.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you murmur, pecking the corner of his mouth. “I'll hide with you in the corner like I promised I would. We can make up for lost time after the auction. You know. The one for charity”.

Shouto hums and reaches for the door, knowing you’ve won. “Oh. I told Kirishima I’d bid for his date night,” he recalls as he turns the handle. “Would that bother you?”

“Of course not baby,” you reply and take one last look at your reflection, less disheveled than before. The endearment ‘baby’ almost has him walking into the doorframe.

You straighten up. Shouto thinks he must look incredibly dumbstruck, if your concerned expression is any indication. “You okay?” you ask, proffering your hand. “You didn’t bring your crutches tonight, did you?”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine,” he intertwines your fingers, dizzy as you squeeze around him.

“It’s just a tremor”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Text

No Alarms and No Surprises, Please

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I had this idea and decided to write it "real quick" (it took like two hours). I meant to do just like a really short thing so I could eat lunch and then get back to work, but then my brain was like no we gotta set up context

Titled after the song "No Surprises" by Radiohead. It doesn't exactly fit, but it felt right in my mind

Warnings: mentions of murder, tense moments, injury, burning flesh, bruises, bones breaking, blood mention, nausea mention, angst, literal hurt/comfort, soft Astarion moments

Word Count: 1,863

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You peeked slowly around the corner, holding your breath. Astarion hovered just behind you, almost touching you as you both surveyed your surroundings.

It was a palace, that much you knew. You also knew the guards were exceptionally strong. You already wasted enough healing spells and potions on the two guarding the door - you were just lucky they didn’t call for reinforcements. You also knew there was an artifact deep within the heart of this place that could provide some insight into removing the tadpoles.

“We’ll have to go around,” you breathe out slowly to the spawn. He gives a slight nod. As much as he loved bloodshed, sneak-killing all of them would be too high a risk. You almost came face to face with him when you look over your shoulder. He gives you a knowing smirk as he backs off. You nod down a side-hall. “That way.”

You gesture to Gale and Shadowheart, making sure they knew the plan. They nodded, waiting. You turn back to the patrolling sentinels. Their movements are constant and predictable, each pace following the same amount of steps. They sync, facing away from your destination, and you wave a hand for a companion to go.

Gale, ever the gentleman, lets Shadowheart go first. She hides behind the wall, out of sight. You wait again and gesture for Gale to go. He bites back complaints about his knees that creak under the duress of sneaking. He arrives just as a guard turns. Astarion could hear your heart thumping wildly in your chest; it pounds so loud in your ears you can’t even hear the guards’ footsteps anymore.

He wraps a hand around your waist, carefully pulling you away from the corner. You stare at him, worried he’s noticed something wrong. He nods toward the hall where your companions wait. “You first,” he whispers.

You want to argue - he can see the wheels turning in your head as you frown at him. As the de facto leader, you always worked to ensure everyone else was safe before you. You rested a little easier knowing you’d be the one in harm's way should something go wrong. But Astarion was a rogue, and used to sneaking around to boot. He would be much better at timing his dash to the hall than you could.

After a moment, you nodded. He pushed you back to his prior spot as he takes your place, poking an eye around the corner and studying them. He thought you’d die of a heart attack if this went on any longer. When the guards turn, he taps your waist. You crouch as quickly as you can to Gale and Shadowheart. They greet you with a tense nod.

You wait in silence for Astarion.

He almost spooks you when he comes silently around the corner. But now, further from the immediate threat, you have a chance to breathe.

The hallway stretches on for what seems like forever. Closed doors and open arch-ways line each side, perfectly mirrored. At the end, there’s a very small statue - but you’re sure it’s life size up close. The prospect of a maze with the ever-looming fear of getting caught doesn’t exactly thrill you, nor any of your companions, but nothing can be done for it.

You sigh and lead them onward.

It’s too risky to peek inside the rooms - if there were patrols inside you’d all be jumped and killed within minutes. At each arch, you glance around the corner, down the other equally as endless corridors. It’s oddly quiet. Not a guard in sight, even on grander doors that seem like they should be protected. It leaves you on edge. Waiting for the boot to drop and leave you in mortal peril. At the very least, you feel safe enough to stand up. It saves you from Gale’s grumbling.

You peer around another corridor and try to imagine the layout of the palace. You’d found a map once, but it was too tattered to make anything useful out. The most information you gleaned from it was where the staircases were. If you could find your way to one of those, you’d be able to go down, deeper into the belly of the beast. You believe, if your slipping memory of the map was correct, you could turn down this way and go all the way to the end, and there would be stairwells on either side of the very-tiny-life-sized-statue.

Resolved to your plan, you step through the ornate marble arch. You feel the pain before you register where it’s coming from. You collapse to the floor, cushioned only by a strong arm and solid body. A hand clamps over your mouth, pressing down tight to keep any sound from slipping through.

Oh. That breathless tightness in your chest is not from the pain. It’s you screaming. Trying to, at least. Your eyes dart frantically around as your body writhes against the person holding you. Gale and Shadowheart appear in front of you, kneeling down and working as fast as they can to help.

One of your legs feels weighed down. You stare at the chunk of metal for too long before it finally registers the trap clamping down on your leg. It looks and acts like a bear trap, but it’s been improved to burn red-hot when activated.

Fear grips you like a vice. You become conscious of the fact the teeth of the trap are almost meeting. It’s bitten through your bone. Or nearly through, anyway. You didn’t process it, too busy being victimized by the sadistic mechanics of the device, but Astarion, Shadowheart and Gale all felt nauseous as the crack continues to echo in their mind.

“Shh,” comes a whisper by your ear. You whimper and gasp and struggle, but the arm around your waist only re-wraps around you to pin your arms down. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

Astarion looks away from your injury, peering down the halls. The sound of the bone snapping was loud enough to attract attention, he just didn’t know how much, or when they’d be coming. Not to mention where they’d come from. For all he knew, their luck had run out, and any second a swarm of golden-armored bastards would be charging down the hall they were in.

“We need to get out of the open,” he hissed to the cleric and wizard.

Gale cast an ice spell, focusing all his energy in freezing the hinge of the device. If he could get it cold enough, it would become brittle, and they could dismantle it and pull it from your leg like cracking open an oyster. Shadowheart focused on healing the burns being inflicted to your skin as they were happening. It smelled uncomfortably like meat roast. Your blood vessels were cauterized. Astarion could hardly take solace in the fact when the usually-delicious scent of your ichor was replaced with the smell of cooking flesh.

“We can’t move them yet,” Shadowheart whispered, barely biting back her panic. She couldn’t keep healing you forever.

Gale grunted, brow furrowing further as he willed the ice to freeze faster, freeze colder around the metal.

Astarion felt useless, watching and unable to help. Holding you while you thrashed in agony was all he could do. He hoped to the gods he wouldn’t reveal a bruise over your mouth when this was finished. “I’m here,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. It was all he could think to do. “You need to keep still, love. It’ll be over soon.”

The words didn’t reach. You knew he was speaking when his breath fanned over your ear, but the speech-centers of your brain were thoroughly turned off. As were any of the logic-centers. Anything that could have told you they were helping, to calm down and stop moving, was replaced instead with klaxons and sirens urging you to struggle and fight back against the pain.

Footsteps. Loud and clanging. Getting closer. Astarion cursed. “We have to hide,” he hissed again, panicked.

There was no time to argue. They all seemed to have the same idea as Astarion pushed himself across the floor with his legs, pulling you with him. Shadowheart and Gale stopped casting in favor of moving your legs, as carefully as they could possibly manage. Hot tears slipped over Astarion’s hand as you thrashed violently with the motion. But now, at least, you were tucked into a corner. Hidden behind a pillar that framed the arch of the hallway. Everyone held their breaths. You didn’t catch the memo, but the spell-casters held your legs down so you wouldn’t make as much noise.

The clanging of armor rose in volume until the echoes through the corridors nearly deafened everyone. You momentarily stopped fighting. Though, Astarion couldn’t tell if it was because the sound had reached past your pain, or if your body was giving out under the duress.

The steps - 3 guards, if Astarion had to guess by ear - slowed from a run to pacing the juncture of the halls. They circled around, stopping occasionally. One set of steps stopped mere feet away. If Astarion leaned forward slightly, he could make out the point of a nose. Shadowheart and Gale slowly pressed themselves back into the shadow of the pillar.

Something touching his hand startled him. He had to fight not to physically jump and draw attention. A hand, your hand, rested weakly over his. He let go of your arm and turned his hand to hold yours. He could feel you whimper in his hold, the shake of your breaths as they hit hot against his hand. You were scared. He was, too.

He squeezed your hand and looked back at the pillar. The steps hadn’t moved. The sentry was still there.

Seconds ticked away at a snail’s pace. They all worried for a moment the guards had chosen to stay there and patrol the intersection. Then the sentinel stepped back from the arch. More footsteps followed. A pause. He could only imagine they were silently saying they did not find anything. And then the cacophony of armor drowned out any last doubt as they retreated back down the hall.

They all let out sighs of relief, even Astarion who had no need for air. He turned his focus back down to you. Your eyes were shut, your breaths were evened out. You’d fallen unconscious. It was a small mercy.

“Hurry up so we can get the Hells out of here,” he huffed. Shadowheart and Gale nodded, equally as eager to get back to safety, and returned to work.

Astarion slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Light bruises where his fingertips had been began rising through the surface of your skin. He sighed, upset at the pain he caused even through necessity, and brushed a tender kiss over the darkest of the bunch. He was too overwhelmed with relief to care if the others saw him. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered again, even though they did not reach you. He was reassuring himself more than anything. It would have been pathetic, if he could think about anything other than your wellbeing. “I’m here, darling.”

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars

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wosohermoso · 7 months

Text

Lucy Bronze

Jealousy - Part 3

Warnings: Fluff, angst, ¿embarrassment?

Reader and Lucy’s relationship gets found out, and not in the way they had planned.

The sun glistened through the bedroom window of Lucy’s apartment. I had been awake for a short while, just admiring the subtle, relaxed grooves of my girlfriend’s muscular back. Lucy was laying on her stomach besides me, her head facing in the opposite direction, tiny but deep breaths huffing out of her every time she exhaled. The night before had ended in dinners, a load of turmoil, and our relationship being found out.

We were at a restaurant with a few of Lucy’s teammates, our relationship still completely a secret. Me being friends with the same people as Lucy helped quite a bit - It meant that we could spend nights out together without having to explain why I was always tagging along.

I was seated next to Lucy, Keira sat opposite me with G sat next to her, and Leah perched on the end of the table.

“I say we go back to mine for drinks after this” Leah states, swallowing the last of her meal, all of us agreeing in unison besides Lucy.

“I think me and y/n are gonna head back to mine cause- didn’t you say you had a meeting or something in the morning?” Lucy recalls.

She wasn’t lying. I had a meeting or two scheduled early the next day, both of them being a short walking distance from Lucys house, and decided that staying over would probably be easier for me. Although, going back to Leah’s wouldn’t be a hassle, as long as I didn’t drink too much.

“I do have some work to sort out in the morning, yes” I nod, “But I suppose a few drinks wont hurt” I continue with a small chuckle, Lucy glancing at me with an unreadable expression.

We get back to Leah’s house, all of us scattering around the living room in confidence. Each of our homes had basically become everyone else’s, none of us were uncomfortable anymore, so when I slouched myself on her sofa and threw my legs up and over Keira’s legs she chucked with a small, friendly, and satisfied huff.

“Glass for you..” Leah smiles as she hands me a glass of - some kind of home made alcoholic concoction. “..and you” She hands a glass of the same mixture to Keira.

“What. Is that.” Keiras eyes widen as she inspects the glass. Leah shrugs with a devilish laugh.

The drink itself wasn’t too bad, we had all had a second, and were now all slouched across then living room watching a comedy.

My legs were still over Keiras, G and Leah were on the sofa to the left of us, and Lucy had positioned herself on the floor just in front of me, her head resting comfortably in parallel to my ribcage.

As we’re all watching the comedy, I feel Lucy’s head lean back slightly and catch her gazing up at me from the floor with a sort of pleading expression. I frown slightly before I catch her phone in her lap, her notes page open, with a note:

Please remove your legs from her.. :)

I try my hardest not to keep my laugh in at Lucy’s very sneaky way of communicating, before removing my legs from Keira and swivelling round so that my legs fitted comfortably either side of Lucy’s shoulders, so that she was now sat in between my legs.

Lucy and Keira had dated in the past, and although we were all friends, and the pair of them had promised each other that there were no bad vibes, I still felt slightly bad for sitting there with my legs draped over my girlfriends ex girlfriend. Keira had become one of my best friends though, but although it meant nothing to us, I still had to keep in mind the fact that it could still make Lucy uncomfortable.

Keira had dated other people since they broke up, and Lucy was completely fine with it, the pair of them no longer had any feelings for each other and they were both absolutely happy for one another’s new lives.

I glance down at Lucy’s phone:

Thank you 😂

Her next note said.

I give her shoulders a small squeeze before my attention averts back to the tv.

Myself and Lucy had become very comfortable in our own private relationship when it came to affection, although we held back completely when with others, but when my mind was focussed on the movie we were watching, I found myself subconsciously running my fingers along Lucys shoulders and neck. I could feel the hairs on her neck prick up in satisfaction as the others focused purely on the tv, and so I continued, my fingertips grazing through her loosely tied hair as she settles comfortably into me. Her head leans back slightly, looking up at me with a small smile and all I wanted to do at that very moment was to just give her a kiss.

We had been together for months now, and I was so over hiding the fact that she was my girlfriend. My eyes scan her face, her pretty green eyes, her lips, her freckles which i could only see faintly under the blue flickering glow from the tv. At that very moment, I was completely and utterly in awe. In more awe than I ever had been. It’s had completely dawned on me that I was well and truly in love. I reach down, giving her a quick peck on the lips, hoping no one saw for the sake of the attention - but I was completely taken aback when Lucys arm reaches up, stretching behind her to hold my head in place just a little longer, leaving a slightly more tender and loving, but very respectful and quick peck on my lips.

“Blimey” Keira splutters out, knocking both me and Lucy out of our very sensual trance. “Those two!” She points towards us, Leah lifting her head from the arm of the couch to peer over before letting out a amused giggle. G’s head snaps in our direction, her eyes widening in comedic horror.

“Now what is going on here!?” G gasps as I fall back into the couch in embarrassment, watching Lucy place her hand in her head with a small huff.

I glance over at Keira who’s chin rested delicately in her hand her fingers toying with her lower lip as she watches Lucy carefully. I could tell she could sense me looking at her, but she refused to make eye contact. I look over at Leah, who had also noticed the awkwardness. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed Lucy right in front of her ex, who happened to also be my best friend.

“Right- well.. im gonna go and get some milk- before the shops shut” Leah states, clearly just looking for something to say and a reason to leave the awkward situation. “Wanna come Kei?” She asks and Keira nods, getting up in silence.

Myself, Lucy and G wait for them to leave, Lucy holding the bridge of her nose in defeat as she watches Keira get up and walk past, before the door closes behind them.

“What was that all about!?” G asks in shock.

I run my hand over my face as I wait for Lucy to speak.

“We’ve been seeing each other-” Lucy begins, G gasping in amusement, her face contortioning in both shock, happiness, and confusion.

“But” Lucy states, “we didn’t want it to come out like this. We didn’t want to upset Kei and we just wanted to- be able to enjoy our time together for a while in private without having others involved, especially the public”

“Sorry- what part in having a cheeky snog on Leah’s sofa is private” G chokes, earning an extremely dramatic sigh from Lucy.

“We were not snogging, I kissed her, and it just felt right I guess” Lucy chuckles in embarrassment and I feel my cheeks go slightly red.

“You have a lot of explaining to do to Keira ladies. I mean, I’m fine with whatever it is thats going on between you, we all kind of sensed the chemistry and tension between you both but we didn’t really know how to go about it” She laughs “but you should speak to Keira, she probably doesn’t care, but- you know.” We both nod.

“I’m gonna go freshen up” Lucy states, lifting herself from the floor, giving me a small squeeze on the shoulder before heading to the bathroom and locking herself inside.

G looks at me with a slight eyebrow raise. I couldn’t tell whether she was being judgemental, or if she just didn’t know how to asses the whole situation.

Leah and Keira arrive back - the shop was only just below the apartment, but it gave them enough time for the most of the awkward energy to simmer down.

“Y/n shall we have a chat..” Keira asks almost instantly.

“Mhmm” I nod getting up and brushing myself off, my shoulder muscles tensing due to the uncomfortableness of the situation.

Myself and Keira head to Leah’s bedroom and as the pair of us sit down on the bed, I head the bathroom door unlock from outside the room.

“Where’s y/n?” Lucy asks, and we hear Leah explain that I’m in the bedroom talking to Keira.

“Luce..” We hear Leah warn, before stating a faint “leave them” and we hear Lucys footsteps head back into the living room.

Keira smiles at me warily before opening her mouth to speak. I cut her off.

“Look Kei..” I start. “I’m sorry for how all of this came about. We definitely didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. We were planning on telling you all about it at the right time-”

“You’re seeing her then?” Keira asks abruptly. I nod. She nods back.

“Sorry” I sigh, “I get how hard it probably is for you. And I completely respect your feelings, honestly if it makes you uncomfortable I promise you I will never show affection to her in your presence-”

Keira chuckles in amusement, “First of all, you don’t need to avoid affection just because I’m around. I have no feelings for Lucy whatsoever, I promise you. It was just all a bit of a shock, considering my best friend and ex have been secretly dating behind my back.”

I apologise again.

“Theres nothing to be sorry for really” Keira states, “I have no problem with it, its just bound to throw me off a bit” She chuckles. “If you guys are happy then so am I, I really am. It’s just gonna take me a bit of time to adjust to. What a random situation” She laughs before placing her hand on my shoulder.

“I promise you I’m fine, as long as you are” I nod with a small smile before getting off of the bed and holding my arms out for an embrace. Keira gets up hugging me tightly her voice muffled by the tight squeeze? “I just wish you’d have told me cause I’d have loved to have helped you through the crush stage” She laughs before giving me a bro-ish slap on the back. “Love you” She laughs.

“Love you too Kei” I smile before we head out to the living room, the rest of the girls watching us with the nosiest expressions.

“You ok?” Lucy asks as I sit down next to her on the couch. I nod.

“Yeah, Keiras just shouted at me for shagging her ex” I state with a small menacing grin.

“I did not!” Keira protests “we’re literally fine, I’m happy for you, we’re fine” She smiles and Lucy turns to face her.

“Yeah?” She asks for confirmation.

“Yes” Keira chuckles, giving Lucy a small, playful shove. Lucy smiles at Keira. A smile of both relief and gratitude.

“Sooo..” Leah speaks up, “those meetings..” She giggles.

“We’re they just an excuse to go back to Lucy’s or do you actually need to be up early?” She asks, G laughing hysterically.

I glance at the time. 12AM. I had to be awake at 5.

“SHIT. I’m gonna have to go” I gasp, Lucy placing her hand on my knee to guide herself off of the sofa.

“I’m guessing the rush is for the meetings and not for ..sex, right?” Leah raises a brow as she watches me gather my stuff in a panic.

“Who knows.” Lucy flashes Leah a small smirk, earning a disgusted groan from both G and Keira.

“I’ll update you in the morning” She laughs, before the pair of us say our goodbyes and head back to Lucy’s.

#leah williamson #lionesses #lucy bronze #woso x reader #reader x lucy bronze #woso #woso smut #smut #celebrities #georgia stanway #keira walsh #sam kerr #england

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petitemistletoe · 11 months

Text

S.O.S. She's In Disguise

Part Two to She-Wolf

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin, Potter!Reader

Warnings: smut and angst!

Word Count: 4.8K+

A/N: I had to do a deep dive into Beauxbatons and all I can say is I wish we got more Beauxabatons and Durmstrang content because they're both phenomenally interesting. Also the James Potter in She-wolf absolutely eats up the James Potter in Grudges! There were a few of you who asked to be tagged that you could not be :( so sorry! If I left you off the taglist please let me know :)

“What do we do?” Peter asked, wringing his hands.

“You two get Remus back to the shack. I’ll try to carry her to the hospital wing.” James put on his authoritative voice but everyone could tell he was incredibly rattled.

“Do you want one of us to help you?” Sirius asked but James shook his head, picking you up gently and hoisting you over his shoulder.

“No, no. Take the cloak and go. Madame Pomfrey should be down here any minute you have to go now.” James was not able to hide the quiver in his voice.

“Okay. We’ll see you soon.” Peter nodded at James before helping Sirius support Remus back to the shrieking shack.

You woke up as James was setting you down on a bed in the hospital wing.

“Don’t try to talk, it’s alright,” James said when he saw your eyes widen, “Madame Pomfrey will be back in a few minutes. I filled her in on everything but you need your rest.”

“You know?” You croaked, accepting the water from James and soothing your scratchy throat.

“That you’re a werewolf? Yes, I worked that out what you stumbled out of the woods.” James pursed his lips and you could tell that he was trying to hard to keep his voice level.

“I imagine you have some questions, then.” You said, trying to keep your own voice steady as well.

“Yes. But you can rest first if you’d like.”

“No, no. We can talk now.” You sat up straight in the hospital bed and smoothed out the blanket that was laid out in front of you.

“When exactly did you become a werewolf?” He asked. His nails were digging into the palms of his hands.

“Last year. Beauxbatons has a requirement for outdoor education for all wizards and witches and I’d chosen the option of solo fitness survival. I failed the first round of solo fitness survival so I apparated to a random forest last summer to practice. I did not pay attention and it was during the full moon and I was attacked by one of Greyback’s pack. I barely survived and when I apparated back home I splinched myself pretty badly. My parents knew they couldn’t take me to a hospital because I would be forced to register myself immediately. My mum called your mum and she was able to stitch me up and then was sworn to secrecy. The medi-witch at Beauxbatons tried to help me as much as she could but she’s never dealt with this kind of thing before. Then your mum mentioned in an owl a few months ago that Madame Pomfrey had some experience in this field so I went down yesterday to try to find more information but there were too many people in the hospital wing so we did not have any privacy. I ran into the woods last night and thought that I’d be able to pull myself into the hospital wing in the morning and get Madame Pomfrey’s help then. I knew that Madame Pomfrey’s experience must have come from a student who was also in hiding but I had no idea it was going to be your friend Remus. I also still don’t understand why you were there?” You took a deep breath as you realized you hadn’t taken one breath the entire time you were speaking.

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” James looked deflated as he put his hand on top of yours, “I was there because Sirius, Peter, and I are all animagi. We became unregistered animagi to help Remus during the moons. They make his moons easier, having other animals to run around with and he doesn’t have to be stuck in the shack.”

“Oh James,” you bit your lower lip hard to stop yourself from tearing up, “Remus is so lucky to have friends like you. The moons can be so terribly lonely.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go through this,” James said, finally breaking. He laid his head in your lap and sobbed. You just ran your fingers gently through James’ hair until his sobs were reduced to a few sniffles. The curtains were pulled open and Madame Pomfrey stepped in, pulling the curtain closed behind her.

“How are you feeling, Ms. Potter?” She replenished your water and ran her hand soothingly over your forehead.

“Tired.” You said with a small smile.

“Of course you are. Take this sleeping draught. Your parents will be coming by later and meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Will you be staying, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes I will. Is Remus awake?” James asked, standing and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Yes, he is. He’s supposed to rest so make it quick, Mr. Potter.” Madame Pomfrey left after she made you drink the rest of the draught and you drifted off to sleep.

James made his way over to Remus’ bed where he was engaged in rapid conversation with Sirius. He was only able to catch the tail end of what Sirius was saying,

“-That explains why you were so attracted to her. It was the wolf instincts and-”

“James!” Remus cut off Sirius off when James pulled the curtain back.

“Alright Moony?” James asked, taking the seat next to Sirius’.

“Yeah, yeah. How’s your cousin?” Remus asked.

“She’s alright. My aunt and uncle are coming to meet with Dumbledore but neither of us know what it’s specifically about.” James sighed.

“Are you okay?” Sirius asked.

“I just…I don’t get why she didn’t tell me. We tell each other everything.” James shook his head.

“You didn’t tell her about being an animagus.” Remus offered.

“That was different.” James thought about it for a moment before looking back at Sirius and Remus, “You two were talking about attraction and wolf instincts. What the hell is that about?”

“I think it’s probably time for me to go back to bed!” Remus said quickly.

“Alright. I’m going to see if I can catch my aunt and uncle before they see Dumbledore.” James said with a sigh and left Remus and Sirius on their own.

“That was close.” Sirius said once he heard the door to the hospital wing shut behind James.

“Definitely.” Remus nodded.

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked.

“Honestly, the best I’ve felt in a long time. The moon was invigorating rather than draining.” Remus sighed again, thinking about the uncomfortable, awkward implications.

“You should talk to her.” Sirius suggested.

“Yeah…maybe I will.” Remus said with a small shake of his head.

✰

When you woke up again, your father was leaning over you, rubbing your forehead gently.

“Hey,” you said softly, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

“Hello darling, I’ve heard that you’ve had quite a night.” Your father said with a sad smile on his face.

“That’s an understatement.” You said, weakly. You pushed yourself up on your shoulders and saw your mother, your Aunt Effie, your Uncle Fleamont, and James were all sitting around your bedside.

“Have some more water, love,” Aunt Effie poured a goblet for you and held it up to your lips. You drank gratefully, not realizing until the present moment how dehydrated you had been.

“Professor Dumbledore will be coming down in a few moments to talk. I’m not exactly sure what he wants but I’m sure he will help with the situation. James shared with us that you know about Remus. Your parents said you do not want to register with the ministry, is that correct?” Uncle Fleamont pushed his glasses up further up his nose as he explained the situation.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “my life will be ruined if I register. I…I don’t want that.”

“Of course. Then we’ll make that clear to Albus.” Uncle Fleamont said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“Thank you,” you croaked, “for all being here. I…I don’t know what I do without all of you.”

“We’re your family.” James said, grabbing your hand and giving it a tight squeeze. You nodded and accepted another large gulp of water as you heard the door to the hospital wing open and the deep, calm voice of Albus Dumbledore say,

“Thank you, Poppy. Just that bed over there?”

“Yes sir,” Madame Pomfrey replied. Your mother stood and pulled the curtain back for Professor Dumbledore to enter.

“Hello Mrs. Potter, Mr. Potter. Oh, Euphemia, Fleamont, I was not expecting to see you two as well.” Professor Dumbledore bowed his head respectfully as he entered the room.

“Hello Albus. We thought it best that we come to help with our niece at this time.” Uncle Fleamont said, standing to shake hands with Professor Dumbledore.

“Of course. Ms. Potter I trust that you are recuperating well.” Professor Dumbledore set his bright blue eyes on you. You nodded.

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore. I want to apologize for any alarm I may have caused.” You responded.

“Yes that is something I would like to discuss. I have no problems with the young Ms. Potter finishing her schooling here at Hogwarts where Madame Pomfrey can better care for her. However, Ms. Potter, I am sure you are aware of the ministry’s registry for werewolves.” Dumbledore said. He was speaking perfectly calmly but there was something off-putting about his statement.

“She will not be registering. Just like Remus.” James said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“Is that how you feel, Ms. Potter?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes sir.” You nodded.

“I would be remiss if I did not highlight how seriously the ministry takes such affairs. There are severe implications that are in place for witches and wizards who fail to register.” Dumbledore said, placing one of his hands on your bedpost.

“She is quite sure of her decision, Albus.” Uncle Fleamont stood so he was eye-level with Dumbeldore.

“You know as well as I do, Albus, that the registry is discriminatory and the way the ministry has treated magical creatures has been nothing short of barbaric.” Aunt Effie said, placing her hand over yours and giving it a light squeeze.

“I will have Professor McGonagall bring the sorting hat over and then we will set up your schedule and accommodations. I understand, Ms. Potter, that you were Head Girl of your house at Beauxbatons?” Dumbledore diplomatically changed the subject.

“Yes sir, I was. I was also in Ombrelune house at Beauxbatons. I believe the closest house to it would be Gryffindor.” You said, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Ah, Ms. Potter, the houses of Beauxbatons do not directly correspond to the houses of Hogwarts. I will arrange with your future head of house for a prefect position for you as we already have a head boy and girl. If you would be more comfortable, you may stay in James’s dorm this evening, as I understand it has been quite a weekend for you.” Dumbledore left without saying much else. Your parents and aunt and uncle wanted to stay for longer but you sent them off, promising to write and telling them not to worry, the Christmas holiday was just two months away.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter joined you and James as you waited for Professor McGonagall to come back with the sorting hat.

“Here,” Peter said, thrusting a wrapped package into your hand, “it’s a chocolate frog. Moony always says they make him feel better after a moon.”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded, munching on his own chocolate frog, “chocolate makes everything better.”

“Thanks Peter,” you said, patting the boy’s hand lightly, “so I take it you forgive me for the broomstick incident.”

“Never! I don’t care if you are a werewolf.” Peter laughed. But the word hung heavy in the air. Werewolf. You looked down at your lap.

“Nice going Wormtail.” Sirius elbowed Peter hard in the stomach.

“Hey! I didn’t mean anything by it.” Peter grabbed at his stomach and glared at Sirius.

“No, you never mean anything. Do you?” Sirius retorted.

“Tell us more about the houses at Beauxbatons.” James interjected, sending a look Peter and Sirius’ way.

“There are three houses: Papillionlise, Ombrelune, and Bellefeuille. Papillionlise is the house of kindness and good nature. Ombrelune, my house, is the house of ambition, curiosity, and logic. Bellefeuille is the house of bravery, sensitivity, and compassion. Everyone wants to be in Ombrelune and we have a little rivalry with the Bellefeuille students.” You explained.

“Ambition and logic?” Remus asked, “That sounds like Slytherin.”

“There’s no way that you’ll be sorted into Slytherin. She’s a Potter. All Potters are Gryffindors.” James said with a sense of finality in his voice.

“There’s nothing wrong with being sorted into Slytherin.” A new voice said. It was Lily, carrying a tray of sandwiches that must have been from dinner.

“Cheers Lily.” You said with a grin, practically shoving an entire sandwich into your mouth.

“What are you doing in the hospital wing?” Lily asked, “Remus, you’re out of bed early. Feeling better already?”

“Uh, yeah, well…you see…” James was searching for an excuse but you just shrugged.

“I’m a werewolf.”

“Oh!” Lily almost dropped the tray.

“You can’t just go telling anyone.” James scolded you.

“Lily isn’t anyone. She knows about Remus and I didn’t want to be a secret between you and your girlfriend, James. Besides, you’ve gone on and on about how smart Lily is, she would have figured it out herself eventually. Lily, I trust you won’t tell anyone?”

“No, no. Of course not. Are you all right?” Lily asked, immediately sitting at your bedside and grabbing a cool soaked rag and placing it on your forehead.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You said with a small smile. You filled Lily in on your new attendance at Hogwarts.

“Like I said before, there’s nothing wrong with being sorted into Slytherin. One of my good friends is a Slytherin and so is Sirius’s entire family!” Lily said, glaring at James.

“That’s not much of an argument.” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I can’t protect her if she’s sorted into Slytherin, Lily.” James narrowed his eyes, “Those Slytherins are bigots and you know it.”

“It’s not very safe for Remus in Gryffindor either. The way werewolves are seen in the eyes of the wizarding world is not only a Slytherin problem.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest.

“Respectfully, Evans, stay out of this.” James said, coolly.

“There are many fine and brave wizards in Slytherin. Don’t listen to James.” Lily told you,

“If this is about Snivellus again, so help me Evans.”

“Fine,” Lily stormed out of the hospital wing.

“So much for coming between you and Lily.” You said sheepishly. James was still seething with anger but he took a deep breath and said,

“I’m going to go for quick walk. Sirius, call me when McGonagall gets here.” James stormed out of the hospital wing as well.

“Is Slytherin really that bad?” You asked Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

“A lot of dark wizards, most of my family included, come from Slytherin.” Sirius said with a sigh.

“That’s all? A lot of dark wizards come from Ombrelune too but so do a lot of amazing wizards. I can’t believe James is being so silly about this.” You shook your head.

“I think he just wants to protect you.” Peter said, obviously uncomfortable at the idea of speaking ill about his best friend, “you’ve always been like a baby sister to him and he already hates that Sirius and Lily have strained relationships with Slytherins. I don’t think he wants anything like that for you two.”

“All that is premature, anyway.” You said with a head shake, “I haven’t been sorted yet.” As if on cue, you all heard the voice of Professor McGonagall in the corridor. Sirius whipped out his pocket mirror, one that you recognized from your family vault, and whispered for James to come back.

“Ms. Potter, I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Minvera McGonagall, professor of Transfiguration, head of Gryffindor house, and deputy headmistresses of Hogwarts. Do you have any questions before you are sorted?”

“No Professor.” You said, taking a deep breath as James made his way back into the hospital room. Professor Dumbledore placed the hat on your head.

“Another Potter,” the sorting hat murmured in your ear, “in all of my years I have only ever sorted Potters into Gryffindor. But you, you are not like the other Potters. You are ambitious. You are curious, always seeking more and more. You have secrets, more than most of your contemporaries. You seem to be the perfect fit for Ombrelune. You know the origin of the name Ombrelune, don’t you?”

“Uh…no I don’t.” You said, fiddling with your fingers.

“Ombre is shadow and lune is moon. You hail from the house of shadow moons. Quite ironic, isn’t it? Considering your currently monthly situation,” the hat chuckled, “alas there is no equivalent to Ombrelune so I will have to say SLYTHERIN!”

There was an eery silence that broke out over the room. Professor McGonagall took the hat back and cleared her throat.

“Congratulations, Ms. Potter, on being sorted into the fine house of Slytherin. Your head of house is Professor Slughorn. I believe tomorrow during breakfast you will be assigned a companion from your house that will show you everything you need. I’ve been told that you’ll spend this evening with your cousin?”

“Yes, Professor McGonagall, that’s correct. She’ll spend the night in my dormitory.” James said quietly.

“Alright then, have a pleasant evening.” And with that Professor McGonagall marched away.

“So the conversation is no longer premature.” You said with a weak chuckle, “I’m a Slytherin.”

“It really isn’t that bad James,” Remus said.

“I can’t protect you in Slytherin.” James said with a sad shake of his head.

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“It’s been a long night. Why don’t we go to bed and revisit things in the morning?” Peter offered. You all nodded and headed back up to the dormitories for bed.

Remus had a restless night. The moon was over but he still felt on edge around you. Of course, things made a lot more sense now but he didn’t want to make an advance for a number of reasons. He didn’t want to burden you, he wasn’t really sure of what he was feeling himself, and he did not want to bring down the wrath of James Potter. It must have been four in the morning when he turned again from his side to his stomach to his other side and then settled on his back.

“Alright Moony,” Sirius’s sleep laced voice cut through Remus’s thoughts, “what the hell is going on?”

“Can’t sleep.” Remus sighed.

“I figured,” Sirius propped himself up and glared at Remus, “considering you’ve woken me up at every toss and turn.”

“Sorry. I’ll go downstairs and have a smoke.” Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’s forehead before making his way downstairs. He wasn’t expecting to see you leaning at one of the open windowsills, angling your blunt out the window so the pungent smoke made its way outside instead of back in the common room. Remus cleared his throat and you turned at the noise, giving Remus a small smile.

“Hey Remus. What are you doing up?” You asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Remus said with a sigh.

“Me either.” You handed Remus to joint, which he took gratefully, “Is it always this hard? This soon after a moon?”

“I usually sleep better after a moon, because I’m so exhausted from it. Having you here, though, it’s been different.” Remus realized that he had smoked half of your joint without thinking. He handed it back to you with a sheepish smile.

“Me too. It’s been easier, having you with me. I guess that was the goal, though, right? Being able to connect with others who could understand my…being a werewolf.”

“Yeah, it can be lonely sometimes. I’m glad to have you here with me.” Remus realized that your eyes had been trained on him the entire time he spoke. You closed the distance between the two of you, crawling into his lap and pressing your lips against his.

Remus was caught off guard at first but then he kissed you back just as hard. It was intense, hungry, teeth clashing against teeth. You kissed down Remus’s neck and bit along the way, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. Remus winced at the pain from your sharp teeth but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop because he loved the feeling. You pulled his thick jumper off and ran your nails down the front of his chest, tracing his scars. He felt, awkward, ashamed at first, but you took off your own shirt and he saw the pale, magical scars that lined your own chest. He took a moment to kiss down your chest, kissing your breasts and around your nipples. Finally, he took your right nipple into his mouth and bit down harshly. You moaned out in a mix of pain and pleasure and shock but nodded at him to continue.

Remus’s hand went down your pants next, tearing your panties off. He held them up to his nose and sniffed harshly.

“You smell delicious. Good enough to eat.” Remus said, running his tongue over his sharp canines. He pulled your pants all the way off and shoved his face between your legs. You had never been eaten out like this before. Two of his fingers were deep inside you as his tongue made a repeated assault on your clit. His teeth would bump your clit occasionally, sending shockwaves through your system and you had your fingers buried in his hair, yanking the tendrils so tightly that you were near the point of ripping them out. You came on his face, your legs spasming, and you released a howl. That sobered you and Remus right up. You pulled up your pants and chuckled nervously.

“I, uh, I’m going to go back to bed.” You said, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Yeah, yeah. Have a good night.” Remus was cursing everything as he watched ascend the stairs and couldn’t help but think about how it might be better that you were going to be sleeping all the way in the dungeons.

The next morning was a bit awkward as you made your way down for breakfast. The place was alive with rumors swirling about the new girl at Hogwarts. You sat down at the Gryffindor table next to James. Lily gave you a warm hello and then sent an icy glare James’s way before sitting down next to Marlene and Mary. You desperately wished you have spent the day with the Gryffindor girls but the boy you saw a few days ago made his way over to your table.

“What do you want, Snivellus?” James glowered at Snape.

“I’m your cousins assigned companion.” Snape returned the glare.

“It just keeps getting better and better, huh.” You said with a small smile. “Alright Severus, I’m all yours.”

Snape barely let you out of his sight for the next month. You were more than adjusted to Hogwarts after the first week but Snape wouldn’t leave you alone, much to James’s chagrin. The marauders joked that Snape must have some twisted crush on you but you weren’t so sure. It felt much more sinister than that. The moon was this evening and you felt like you could crawl out of your skin. It didn’t help being close to Remus. Everything about Remus felt like your nerves were exposed, especially being so close the moon. Tensions were still high between James and Lily, the couple were barely speaking and when they did, it only devolved into a fight.

You were lucky enough to have potions with Gryffindor but the lovely Professor Slughorn had assigned Snape to be your partner. Your spine felt like it was doing somersaults and kept shifting in your chair uncomfortably.

“Are you alright?” Snape whispered in your ear as Slughorn prattled on and on about whatever the day’s lesson was.

“Fine.”

“That time of the month, eh?” Snape asked.

“What?” Your blood ran cold.

“Forget I said anything.” Snape said with a smug grin. Icy sweat ran down the back of your neck. You pushed it out of your mind. Snape didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Right? You were lost in thought as you walked with the boys up to lunch. Snape had made some rude comment to Lily which caused James to jump in front of her and draw his wand.

“You take that back, Snivellus.”

“Or what, Potter?” Snape asked, drawing his own wand.

“I don’t need you to defend me, James.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest.

“Shut up, mudblood.” Snape spat. You felt yourself surge forward but Remus held you back.

“Don’t. You’re emotional because of the moon,” he whispered in your ear.

“Get away from us, Snivellus. Take your disgusting plague somewhere else.” Sirius looked down his nose at Snape.

“Oh I’m the disgusting one?” Snape laughed, cruelly, “You would know all about unsavory actions, wouldn’t you Black? Lupin?”

“Take that back.” Sirius was very pale.

“Everyone keep moving,” it was that boy, the one who looked like Sirius. You knew by now his name was Regulus and he was indeed Sirius’s brother. Regulus was a prefect for SLytherin and it looked like he would be making head boy next year.

“I don’t answer to you, Reggie.” Sirius said with a hard look on his face.

“Just go. Before I take points from Gryffindor and Slytherin.” Regulus gripped Snape’s arm hard before Snape could fire off another comment. Everyone made their way to lunch in a much more sour mood than before.

The moon descended upon you and Remus that evening and things had been great. But for the second time, you woke from a moon at Hogwarts with an uneasy feeling in your chest. James wasn’t there, which was odd, but Sirius was. Sirius looked down at you and Remus with a nervous smile and said,

“So I messed up.”

Taglist:

@sceleratuspoeta, @hotchnerswife, @8crazy-freak8, @the-marauders-psyche, @spiderman-stilinski, @valencia-rou, @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly, @padf00ts-l0ver, @nevillescomslut, @simpfoegeorge, @willbedecided, @harry-pottah-as-an-otter, @knmendiola, @moonlightwonderlan, @wolfy-kat, @im-a-simps-blog, @mangodamochiii, @justmadethistoreadotherblogs, @princessmiaelicia, @eviethetheatrefreak, @screamqueen1996, @the-slytherin-library-12, @chi1d-0f-the-m00n, @avee09

#sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #wolfstar #wolfstar x reader #James potter #lily evans #Peter pettigrew #marauders #atyd marauders #harry potter

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holybibly · 1 month

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Hello everyone, bunnies or not (due to recent events). Today we're going to talk about serious things.

Over the past few weeks I've been getting more and more negative messages in my inbox. To be honest, I didn't really care at first, but the last few days have become a real test of my patience.

Even today. I just posted my first response to the Unholy Hour in the last two weeks, and a ton of negativity, disrespect, criticism and just plain rude behaviour poured in in response. So I want to make a few things clear.

I have created this blog as a safe and free space for everyone. It's a place you can come back to and not feel like you don't "fit in". There are no bans, restrictions, judgements, criticism or rudeness here. This is a place where everyone can find themselves and be who they want to be, not who society tells them to be. Damn, if someone wants to be a cat or a bunny, what the hell do you care, look after yourself, find a hobby, leave people alone. I will not tolerate people on my blog who tell other people what to do and label them. If you find me strange, unpleasant, rude, please unfollow me or even block me so that my messages do not appear in your feed. It will be much better than receiving all the crap you write to me anonymously.

Tagged question: Am I giving enough warnings? Am I using enough banners? Do I give enough indication that this is NSFW content? If you are confused by my work, you don't have to read it! You can stop at the beginning, but please that we are all adults here. Seriously, are you having sex, watching porn, discussing these topics with friends and not getting enough warning? Again, this blog is a safe and free place without judgement or negativity. Someone even mentioned rape in my work, and I'm not completely stupid for not mentioning it in my warnings. All my work involves "absolute consent". I do this absolutely freely and voluntarily, I like writing, I love it, but the more negative messages I get, the more I lose the desire to do it. I love myself very much and I don't want to waste my emotions with endless negativity, it's easier for me to close the blog and live my life.

Feedback. Bunnies (I'm still hoping), when I ask for your opinion, PLEASE give feedback in the comments. You may not "like" the post, but I need to hear from you. Writers need to know what to do. I don't want to waste hours of my time on something you're not going to be interested in. Every work I do is a huge effort. I don't have beta readers, English is not my first language, so imagine how much time I spend proofreading my work, checking grammar, punctuation, style. That is why I need to communicate with you. I know this is an uncomfortable conversation. I'm not a drama queen, I just want respect and understanding. This whole situation has also caused my activity to decrease.

Listen, if for some reason you feel uncomfortable, the atmosphere on the blog is unpleasant, or my works are not suitable for you due to the large amount of graphic sexual content, please stop following me and reading my ffs. There are many other authors with great work that can satisfy your need for content.

I don't want to get hate that I don't deserve. First of all, it is your own choice, I have never forced anyone to do anything. Respect the authors, be grateful for the effort they put into entertaining you.

I hope I have given you my thoughts.

And on a lighter note, the Unholy Hours are on tomorrow. I hope everyone has a good day/night.

#sugar and sin #bunny questions #18+ blog

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tenpintsofsundrop · 8 months

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Fanfiction Etiquette 101

(Things You Didn't Know You Need To Know)

So, I have seen some discussions about these things on my dashboard, and I know some people are new to tumblr and new to fanfiction in general, so I decided to put this list together in case it might help people. And this stuff goes for all fandoms, no matter what type of fanfiction to write and post.

Also fyi, this post is mostly for people who write and post fanfiction.

1: Putting A Readmore/Cut On Fanfiction

So a 'readmore' (also known as a 'cut') is the ability to put the body of your fanfiction under a cut off link so that people's dashboards are not clogged up by long sprawling paragraphs of text. This is also helpful if your fic contains smut and people don't want to be subjected to smut - people have to click through to keep reading sensitive topics.

The button for it looks like this on desktop:

And this bar of options comes up on desktop when you hit 'enter' on a blank line.

And it looks like this on mobile:

Tumblr put it permanently into the hotbar of options so that it's easier for people to put a readmore on their posts on mobile.

Once you have inputted it, it comes up as a light grey jagged line, showing you where your text cuts off in the main post aka what text is visible before the cut and what's not.

And generally, I think it's a good idea to put the readmore after the first paragraph of your fic, or after the description/summary.

I have noticed that some people put it in after several paragraphs for a longer fic, but I think to make fics easier to reblog, you could put it closer to the top. And even if you're writing smut blurbs, you should put it close to the top to keep smut concealed in case people don't want to read or see smut.

If you don't use a readmore, people are less likely to reblog your fic because they don't want to put a long text wall on other people's dashboards.

2: Using (Stolen) Gifs As Fanfiction Covers

I have seen some discussion about using gifs from google, and people putting a gif that they have downloaded and simply writing under it 'this gif is not mine, please DM me if it's your and I will give you credit'.

It's generally established among gif makers that downloading random gifs and putting them on your fanfiction is bad etiquette. Those are considered stolen gifs.

Even if you say it's not yours and offer to give credit, any gif you repost that is not yours is considered a stolen gif.

Fanfiction writers and gif makers need to work together, not against each other. Reblog gif sets you like, and don't download random gifs, no matter what the source is.

The best way to use gifs as fanfiction covers is to make them yourself or to use the tumblr integrated gif search system.

The gif search system is in the same hot bar as the readmore, labelled under 'gif'.

When you pull it up and click on it, you type in the name of the character you are looking for, and then you can scroll through the results. You can click on a gif to add it to your post, and remove it if you don't like it. So you can try out different gifs to find the right fit of what you're looking for.

And when you find what you're looking for and put it on your post, it automatically credits the gifmaker.

And the credit appears like this. And the name of the gifmaker can be clicked and then it takes you to their blog, so you can see who made the gif. This is a much better way to use gifs, because if someone likes a gif they see on your fic post, they can click through to the original gifmaker and reblog it.

Alternatively, using stills from the show/piece of media you're fanfic is about is a great way to avoid using stolen gifs.

2.5: Using Flashing Gifs On Fanfiction

I have noticed that a lot of people use flashing dividers for their fics, and they don't tag it with a flashing warning (#flashing gif or something similar) and they don't see this as a problem.

Using a flashing gif in fanfiction without a warning can negatively affect disabled readers. Not just people with photosensitive seizures, but people with migraines and different types of eye issues.

3: Using Coloured Text For Fanfiction

Speaking of accessibility issues, I have noticed that many people (especially people new to tumblr/new to fanfiction) use Tumblr's coloured text option to differentiate characters in fanfiction - assigning one colour per character with dialogue.

Some people also just use coloured text for the whole body of their fics, just making it straight up unreadable for disabled people.

Using coloured text in fanfiction makes it inaccessible because certain types of colour blindness makes it unreliable to see on a white background, and bright colours can cause eye strain for different types of disabilities.

It is kinder to use the traditional black text for the body of your fic, and any important information (like the content warnings, DNI criteria, etc).

4: Putting Thorough Content Warnings On Fanfiction

Speaking of content warnings - I could (and probably should) make an entire post about this topic alone, because many writers (both new and old) are severely lacking in this department.

Content warnings are supposed to be more for just smut - and if you do have smut in your fic, you should put warnings for that, instead of just releasing for fic into the wild with no warnings at all. Content warnings are supposed to be for anything that could be potentially triggering for a reader - phobias and fears, sensitive topics, uncomfortable or fear-inducing situations, and kinks and nsfw topics.

Tbh I think not enough people put warnings for alcohol and alcohol consumption in their fics, because alcohol is far too normalized to most people, but again - I could probably make a whole post just about content warnings in fanfiction. Basically: if you think your post could be triggering to someone with an addiction or in addiction recovery (or triggering to a sober person who doesn't want to read about drugs or alcohol) - then include those things in the content warnings.

Fanfiction is about informed consent.

People need to be better informed about what the content of your fic is before they consent to reading it. Also, if you're worried about the warnings being too detailed and giving away 'spoilers' for your fic, then you're probably worried about the wrong thing. And you can just put a warning at the very top that says "the content warnings of this fic contain spoilers for the plot of the fic" and let people make their choice if they want to skip the content warnings or not.

Please, write about all the dark or sensitive topics that you want, but just put detailed warnings on your fic so people can be informed about it before reading your fic.

People always appreciate thorough warnings, and they are more likely to read your fic if they are fully informed before clicking into the body of it.

4.5: (Not) Censoring Content Warnings

Tumblr is not tiktok. (Same goes for posting fics on AO3, but this post is mostly about Tumblr fics.) On Tumblr you can say/spell out any word you want without your post being suppressed or taken down - suicide, kill, murder, fuck, abortion, hell, porn, tits, cumshot, etc.

So that means that when you're writing out the content warnings of a fic, you should write them out fully, rather than putting slang or alluding to the topics in a fic. (Again, informed consent.) Rather than saying 'this fic contains SA', say: 'this fic contains sexual assault' or 'this fic contains rape'.

I saw someone using the term 'unalive' in the content warnings of their fic, and tbh, that's what inspired me to make this whole post.

If you're not mature enough to spell out all the topics in the content warnings of the post, you're not mature enough to be writing and posting about those topics.

Also, try not to use terms that need to be looked up/implicit terms. Certain terms for kinks (like dacryphilia or somnophilia) might lead a person to google those terms and find things they don't want to see. So instead of using those terms, just say 'crying kink' or 'sleeping kink' instead, so that everything is spelled out plainly.

...

This is all I can think of for now. Basically, just be kind to others when posting fics. Be kind to gif makers, disabled readers, and anyone from your fandom who might have an interest in your fic! Be safe and have fun writing! <3

#sundrop speaks #fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you

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intoanotherworld23 · 11 months

Text

Taken For A Ride

Pairing: Reader x Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

Warnings: NFSW 18+ ONLY DNI, this whole thing is smut and sex, sex in a car, sex in public, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swear words

Summary: Bob wants to give you a friendly reminder that your his, and his car is the perfect place

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are much encouraged! I would love to hear back from everyone on what they think of this! If you wish to be added to my Lewis tag list please let me know and I would be happy to add you don’t hesitate to ask! Thank you guys so much! Also shout out to @bradshawsbitch for the GIF cause oh lord I was panting like a bitch in heat🥵🥵

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"Shhh baby not too loud. Don't want anyone to hear us do you?" His question what rhetorical in fact he did want you to be loud so someone did hear what he was doing to you.

Legs on either side of Bobs hips your hands placed on the leather head rest behind him. Your dress bunched up around your waist panties pulled to the side as you rode Bobs cock. His hands on your hips holding onto you.

"Could spend my entire life inside of your little pussy." He growled into your ear making you whimper as he smirked against your skin loving the affect he had on you.

Bob loved the dress that you were wearing admiring how it fit around your body. So did other guys tonight, and it made him extremely jealous. That’s when he dragged you off to show you to who you belong to.

Plus Bob has always wanted to have sex in his car. The parking lot was basically dead so he took the opportunity while he had it. Everyone was inside getting drunk, and knew it was the perfect opportunity.

"I wish you could admire my view right now fucking stunning." He breathed out the last two words like he was almost struggling to say them.

His strong hands gripping your hips squeezing the flesh between his fingers. He would look up from your face to your connecting bodies watching as his cock was disappearing inside of you.

Your backside hitting the horn making it go off causing you two to laugh. Not even stopping your movements not really caring if anyone say you riding Bob.

Moving your hips up and down sliding along his cock as fast as you could. His hands guiding your hips up and down on him. Your walls squeezing around his cock making him groan. Bobs glasses fogging up so easily from the heat between you both.

"Such a good girl letting me fuck you in my car knowing anyone could see." He teased you a smirk appearing on his face making you giggle at his playful tone. "Naughty girl."

Both of you staring into each other's eyes making it a more intimate moment. He wanted to watch your face as you came undone on his cock. Your facial expressions alone turning him on.

The spaghetti strap of your dress sliding down your arm too lazy to pull it back up. If anything Bob pulled it down more along with the strap of your bra. His eyes becoming darker as he watched your breasts pop out.

"God you drive me wild Y/N." His voice strained almost like he was holding back.

His lips attached themselves so your nipple sucking on the nub while he was pounding his cock up into you intensifying the feeling. Your entire body shaking as you felt your skin burning with euphoria.

"Oh god Bob." You whined feeling your legs already getting tired and shaky from riding him.

Hearing you whine his name gave him the go to drive his hips up wildly into you. Your whole body was shaking and moving along with him. His cock fitting so snug inside you like it was made for you.

Your head reeled back in ecstasy hands clawing at the leather seats. Your arousal was coating his cock making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

His lips left your nipple and moved up towards your neck kissing the flesh. Sucking on the skin making blood rise to the surface marking his territory. Bob was a sucker for marking what was his. He loved even more especially when you showed it off.

“You’re all mine sweetheart. Nobody else gets to see you like this.” Not that you were worried about anyone else or wanted anyone else.

His teeth nibbling on your neck making you gasp. The windows in the car were fogging up making it even harder for anyone to see you. Not that that would have stopped either of you. If anything it would have pushed Bob to keep going to everyone could physically see who you belonged to.

Your cheeks were starting to heat up, and you were feeling flushed. In this moment all you felt was Bob and no matter how many times you guys had sex you could never get used to the feeling of his cock.

His cock hit your sweet spot making you scream. Finding that spot he was relentless and continued to hit it over and over again. His hands gripped onto your hips so hard they would probably bruise.

"Oh god I love your cock Bob." You mewled closing your eyes. "Keep going right there."

"I wanna feel you cum all over my cock darlin." He snarled into your skin holding your body even closer to his trying to hit up into an angle that would have you seeing stars.

Your toes were curling and you could feel your pussy walls squeezing the life out of his cock as you released. A couple more thrusts and Bob was squirting his cum inside you. Your head leaned forward on his shoulder trying to catch your breath.

Bobs forehead was drenched in sweat and his arms were shaking still holding your trembling body. Both of you still trying to climb down from your intense high.

Pushing your head back you both looked at each other and just bursted out laughing. The mere fact you two just had hot sex in his car, and the fact someone could have caught you. Bob was always hot for you, and quite frankly didn't care if anyone caught you.

"From now on we are having sex in my car." Playfully smacking his arm as he attached his lips to yours.

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989 @sullyosully

Tag list for Lewis Pullman:

#robert floyd smut #Robert Floyd #Robert Floyd x reader #Robert Floyd x female reader #Robert Floyd fanfiction #Robert Floyd imagines #Robert Floyd fic #Lewis Pullman #Lewis Pullman smut #Lewis Pullman imagines #Lewis Pullman x reader #Lewis Pullman fanfiction #Lewis Pullman fic #top gun #top gun smut #top gun imagines #top gun fanfiction

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mayullla · 1 year

Note

🍂+🦋 hi! ^^ i want to repuest a yan childe, please. hope you have a nice day :). i love your works!

Title: His Wish

Character: Childe / Tartaglia (Genshin Impact) Summary: Your banner was finally up and he waited for you to fall into his arms. Warning/tags: Sagau (but you are a playable character that was just released), yandere themes, fem!reader, unwanted physical affection, drabble

[ - A little present~! Event - Closed ]

You didn't want this not at all when you saw his crazed smile you wished you were anywhere than here. In a few minutes, in just a few minutes your freedom will be taken away from you trapped within the grasp of the man who obsessed over you. You were able to run away for so long yet it seems that you can't anymore.

In just a few minutes you will lose your freedom, unless the world didn't wish you to fall into his hands the player would lose the 50/50 and that they didn't have enough primogems and that would be it. Pray for the next time banner again never to send you off into the arms of whom you disgust.

But it seems that wasn't the case.

"I can't wait for us to be together. Me and the player have been waiting for so long for you to show up in the banners so that we can take you home. Even after the player leaves you and me will always be together." Words full of love felt like nothing but a trap. You do not love him, nor do you want to spend the rest of your life with him. So close were you to throwing something out the window in a fit of anger. You didn't want this anything was better than to be with that man.....

But it was too late.

"Why the down face, you looked so mad the whole time it was a good thing that the player could only see our backs most of the time." You stayed still as Childe leaned his chest on your back his hands wrapped around your midsection. You didn't answer him staying still as you looked at the scenery, the player logged out pf the game and now you were camping waiting for when they would come back.

The other two teammates were out to gather more wood and food leaving you and Childe alone. "I thought that you would be happy, after all, you were spoiled the moment you were pulled. You were given more power and strength enough to defeat even the strongest monsters and humans." You didn't look at Childe's face who placed his head on your shoulder to look at you, you were forced to sit in between his legs because after all even if the player had given you many things they too spoiled Childe even more.

He was way stronger than you still. No matter what you do you cannot leave less you want to make even more trouble for yourself.

You thought that it would be better to just willow in your grief. Ignoring him as if he was never there...

Easier said than done.

You flinched when he kissed your earlobe and then blew on it, quickly you covered your ear and glared at him. But Childe just smiled instead of getting hurt. "Finally you noticed me. Don't you think that it is a little mean to ignore someone like this?"

You cut him telling him to stop, so much anger that you were just trying to contain so close to spilling but it seems that he didn't care. When he looked so satisfied that your eyes were on him, so loving he looked at you with a spark of challenge within in them.

"What is the matter comrade?" Childe laughed, yet even you can tell that his eyes were excited by your hostility. "I wonder if it is only me who is very happy that you are now finally here beside me. Do you know how annoying it is to watch you as you chatted with the traveler just cause they are the main character? Every time I and the traveler had to swap just to talk to you made me so angry. So close yet so far."

"But hey you are here now. In my arms." His arms that held your waist tightened threatening, "You know well that you belong to me. That in this world it was only fate that we will be tied together like this. From our skill set to the player everyone wants us to be together. No matter where you go the moment the player logs in you will be in my arms again."

Moving his face closer to yours never once did he look away from you. "But even if they don't I will search for you till the ends of the world."

Note: Was supposed to post this a little later but I clicked post by mistake... lmao well hope you like it

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blingblong55 · 9 months

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Send Me On My Way- 141

A/N: Okay but please tell me you also don't see this song fitting for this one!?

Based on a request:

Ive seen your 141xf1 fic bestie I know you do weird(and also amazing) crossovers so i have one for you How about 141xsailor!reader Not like a pirate but a competitive sailor, like they race and take a part in regattas Feel free to ignore and have a great day Idk how to comment on the stuff you wrote me about the sailor request so im just gonna leave it here :] Im fine with the reader being rich, i honestly though of it as a family thing, generation after generation of competitive sailors but needles to say that rich kid option is easier I love the thought of the reader teaching them though, amazing, stunning, beautiful I also honestly admire your work, mate, the shit that you have to put into it, and you do it for FREE Anyway, thx for everything, stay safe and take care of yourself mate ❤️❤️❤️

GN!Reader, sailor!reader, competitive sailor!reader, posh(wealthy)!reader, fluff?

Since you can remember, your family has participated in regattas. It has been a sport your family has carried through every generation, it started with your great-great-grandfather by The Whitsunday Islands. And now as an adult, you have found yourself teaching Kyle and his three other mates.

Soon you learned Kyle was nicknamed Gaz. Soap and Price let you in on the story behind that. As the five of you headed down to the perfect spot for them to learn how to learn the way of the waters in your small but amazing sailboat. Ghost was in some rather comfortable trousers, Gaz in the most fitting outfit for such time, Price and Soap in a more relaxed attire than you or the others. Those two are in for a treat, that is for sure.

The men are all excited as they board the sailboat, you helped them all, mainly because they were nervous and you teased them too much to make them feel this way at the moment. As you helped them put on their vests and gave them a rundown of what each rope was meant for and how they could control it, they seemed less nervous.

Hours went by and the four men had the hand of it, that was until a gush of wind that was too strong for them almost flipped you all over. The men did their best until Soap lost balance, tried to hold onto his captain and soon they were overboard. "Soap!" Price said, Bonnie hat floating away. "Sorry sir but I was falling."

"You didn't have to drag me down!"

The three of you on board laughing, Ghost took a picture and will be using it anytime Price dares to brag to the soldiers at base about today. Gaz had to sit down after watching Price get back in, not because he was exhausted but because he laughed too hard his stomach hurt a little. For hours, the five of you sailed the waters, enjoying the peaceful moment. It was something new amongst the four soldiers, having such a peaceful moment that you brought upon them. After the laughter and the shared stories and the booze, silent feel upon you all. Ghost sat on the edge, and placed his hand in the water as you guided them back to land.

Gaz sat by you, watching what you do. It was like seeing younger you all over again. Waving the trophy as he watched your family win that year. Then back when you were 24, watching you from land you gained places, winning over the other solos in the water. That was something he admired from you, no wind or bad weather seemed to affect your mood or readiness. Price envisioned himself doing this once he retires, maybe bringing the other three men along him and who knows maybe you'll even join them.

Five months after that memorable moment, the four men watched as you, once again won. They felt normal like their hands were clean and their guns were non-existent when they were in the crowd. Maybe there is a life after the war they go through each mission.

Tags: @agasawit

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deanwax · 7 days

Text

OC Interview

Cheers for the tag, @illarian-rambling!

I'll nudge a no-presh tag towards @fortunatetragedy, @thatndginger, @the-golden-comet, @winterandwords + open tag to anyone who wants to play :D Blank questions to copy/paste are under the cut at the end of this post.

I'll interview Deerfoot from my current WIP, Cycle's End, which you can read here on AO3. Though I will have to change "movies" to "stories" because movies don't exist in their universe XD

===

Are you named after anyone?

I don't have a name right now. When I was born, my mother chose a name for me that was beautiful. It didn't fit. At the end of my journey, I should choose a new name for myself. I still don't know if I will fashion it after my father or something else entirely.

When was the last time you cried?

There have been so many times that they blur together. Sometimes I don't notice the tears. I would like... mmh, meal times. I would like meal times not to make me cry anymore.

Do you have kids?

... No. I decided this long ago. After five years of bleeding, I went to the healer Laela and tended her home for one moon cycle. In return, she cut my womb out of me and cared for me while the healing crystals did their work. Then I went out on my own.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

That's a vulgar way of speaking. Maybe I'd pick up some of it working on the docks. It's funny to think about.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

You can make a good assessment of a person by the foot they choose to carry. They say Catpaws are the least trustworthy, but Micefeet are so sly that you often don't notice their foot at all... unless you know where to look.

What’s your eye colour?

My eyes are dark when I look in the water.

Scary stories or happy endings?

I...

[there is a long silence]

I would like a happy ending, please.

Any special talents?

I can trap and travel, cook and clean and light fires and make tools. I am hard working. I guess the talent of it is perseverance.

Where were you born?

I was born in a small town on the outskirts of the forest, three Lodestones away from any big city. The land was good for running orchards, and the forest has deer if you know where to find them.

Do you have any pets?

Our family kept an old cat to keep the mice away. He was missing an eye, but at least he was never missing a paw.

What sort of sports do you play?

Games are for children. I don't much like dice or knucklebones, either. Maybe my plan to work on the docks was a foolish fancy. I wish... hrm. I guess wishes are for children, too.

How tall are you?

Not as tall as I'd like, but it makes it easier to hide.

What was your favourite subject in school?

I didn't go to school. Of all the things my mother and father taught me, my most favourite one was how to process a deer. She was my first kill, and we spent days with her. Her hide makes my waterskin, my belt. I cooked and dried and ate her flesh. We rendered the marrow in her bones, sowed her innards in the earth under and apple tree. I could only whittle simple things like bone needles and fish hooks, but my father made an inlay in the handle of my hatchet. I have worn her hoof on a leather cord ever since.

What is your dream job?

... I don't know. I don't know anymore.

===

Are you named after anyone?

When was the last time you cried?

Do you have kids?

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

What’s your eye colour?

Scary stories or happy endings?

Any special talents?

Where were you born?

Do you have any pets?

What sort of sports do you play?

How tall are you?

What was your favourite subject in school?

What is your dream job?

#tag games #open tag #cycle's end

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heardchef · 1 year

Text

#THEBEARWEEK is one week of glorious blogging occuring June 14th through June 21st, 2023 dedicated to the favorite show of line cooks, lesbians, and lethargic thirty-somethings across the nation, The Bear! It's time for us to come together and share everything we love about the show, from our favorite characters to our favorite dialogue, and more!

The following are suggestions for themes for each day, but feel free to gif, write, draw, picspam, make playlists, meta, and squee about anything you like!

This event (and the post itself) would not have been possible without @gahees and I want to thank her very much for entrusting me with their ideas and doing all of the heavy lifting, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Day One: Dialogue [an exchange that made you laugh, cry, or anything in between; phrases or words from the show that’ve leaked into your real life conversations; a conversation that lives in your head rent free]

Day Two: Family [a supporting character you hope to see more of in s02; a character who left a deep impression on you even though they didn’t have a lot of screen time]

Day Three: Work [favorite moment inside The Beef; an aspect of work you feel the show depicted well; your favorite meal or dish made by Carmen, Sydney, Marcus, or even Sugar]

Day Four: Recur [favorite theme or motif—found family, genius wunderkind, dysfunctional families, food, brotherhood and siblinghood, death, artistic expression through work, alienation & loneliness]

Day Five: Levity [favorite moment(s) of joy or humor]

Day Six: Conflict/Heart [favorite, most interesting, or most touching relationship— anything from Sydney and Tina, Marcus and Carmen, Carmen and Richie, Sydney and Marcus, Sugar and Carmen, to Carmen and Sydney]

Day Seven: Free Day/Catharsis [everything that can’t fit into a week—music, outfits, favorite episode, depiction of Chicago, etc.; or your favorite thing about the end of s01]

Please tag your posts with #thebearweek so they are easier to find, admire, and reblog.

#thebearweek #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #tina #marcus #all the characters #all the dialogue #all the gifs art and anything your beautiful mind can think of

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miyamiwu · 1 year

Text

A Guide to Tagging on Tumblr: Types of Tags

This was meant to be part 3 of my Tumblr guide for Twitter refugees series, but I figured old Tumblr users could benefit from it as well. I’m also writing this for myself because even after years on this site, there’s still so much I could learn to tagging.

Types of Tags by Purpose

General (for global categorization)

Communal (for identifying with a community)

Considerate (for other users’ safety)

Descriptive (for describing how the post is formatted)

Promotional (i.e. tag tracking)

Systematic (for blog-level organization)

Fun (your little side comments)

Above are categories I’ve come up with after looking through the tags on my own post, and I think they should cover all the tags mainly used on Tumblr. If you think there should be another category up there, just share it in the notes.

Before I explain what each of those types are, here’s a heads-up that most of my examples would be tags used in fandom spaces. After all, this is a multi-fandom blog.

General

General tags are also what I would call Topic tags. They make your post easier for your target audience to find. Like, if you post something about a certain topic, then a #topic name would be appropriate.

Example: Posts about the anime Blue Lock would be tagged with #blue lock.

Topic names can even be abbreviated to make it faster to type. Mob Psycho 100 can be #mp100. Archive of our Own is usually tagged as just #ao3. Blue Lock can be just #bllk (the actual acronym should be #bl, but people are cowards asfhddgfzh).

General tags also include sub-topics.

Example: If you’re posting specifically about the Blue Lock manga and not the anime, then you may tag it with #blue lock manga.

Sub-topic tags can also work as Considerate tags. People may be interested in posts under the parent topic but would like to avoid the sub-topic. Don’t want to intentionally spoil people about a certain media? Tag it with #media title spoilers.

Example: #mp100 spoilers, #little mushroom spoilers, #blue lock spoilers

Extra example: If you post x reader fanfics for a certain media, then you may must tag it with #media title x reader.

[Don’t wanna sound like a tyrant on this blue site, but for the love of god please include a general tag for your x reader fics to make them easier to filter out. Some people (me) don’t want to read them at all, and it’s tiring to come up with all #character name x reader variations out there. I end up just automatically blocking those who don’t use general tags the moment I come across their fic.]

Examples of some non-fandom General tags:

#spilled ink

#writing

#art

#illustration

#science

#chemistry

Communal

These are tags used to identify yourself as part of a certain community here on Tumblr. Such tags are often suffixed by “blr.”

Examples:

#bookblr

#writeblr

#studyblr

#artblr

#birblr

There are no hard rules, but these -blr communities often contain specific kind of posts in the tag. For example, in #studyblr, you would find a lot of photos of aesthetic notes and people’s desks. If tagging with a -blr tag, check out the community first to see what kind of posts fit under the tag.

Examples of other communal tags:

#actually adhd

#artists on tumblr

#writers on tumblr

#photographers on tumblr

And here’s a list of the top Tumblr communities in 2022. You might wanna check it out.

Considerate

Considerate tags are the most important. Primarily, these tags contain the trigger/content warnings for your post. I’m not gonna include a list of all possible triggers on this post though coz that would be quite long. You can just look that up on your own.

From observation, warning tags affix a tw or cw to the base tag to differentiate them from neutral discussions of said tag.

Example: A post tagged with #depression may be an informational post containing tips on how to manage one’s depression. A post tagged with #tw depression or #tw: depression, however, may contain extremely depressing rants that could negatively affect others’ moods.

It’s different for posts that may be harmful to epileptic people, though. If your post contains flashing gifs and the like, tag it with #flashing and NOT #tw epilepsy or just #epilepsy. A more in-depth explanation as to why can be read here.

You may have also recently seen the #unreality tag in Goncharov posts. I just learned about this tag myself, so I cannot explain it well. Here’s an old post by @ whethervane though that explains it:

an unreality warning is a warning that something (media, discussion, etc.) will deal with themes of unreality and false reality—which can be very stressful and triggering for people who’ve gone through feelings of unreality or disassociation before.

Another kind of Considerate tag would be one used in fandom spaces, especially in big fandoms. These are what I would call anti tags, and they’re used to contain fandom discourse or prevent fandoms from becoming toxic spaces.

If you spout hate about a certain character, do not tag your post with #character name. Instead, prefix your tag with the word “anti.”

Example: If you hate Mu Qing from Tian Guan Ci Fu for whatever reason, tag your hate post with #anti mu qing.

Believe it or not, regardless of how hateful you think that guy is, some people in the fandom actually like him (me, for one) and would be upset at seeing your hate posts while browsing under the #mu qing tag.

Moreover, anti tags are not just for characters. They can also apply to ships you hate.

Examples: #anti mileven if you don’t like the Mike x Eleven ship from Stranger Things. #anti byler if you don’t like the Mike/Will ship.

I see a lot of people censoring anti tags (e.g. #anti mil*ven, #anti milkvan, etc.), but I think such tags would be easier to filter out if they’re just spelled completely.

Descriptive

Descriptive tags describe how the post is formatted. In a way, they also work as Considerate tags, as they allow people to filter out posts that may be too stressful/painful for them to read or look at.

Most common example would be #long post, which is used for posts that are, well, very long. I reckon such a tag became necessary because in the past, Tumblr didn’t have an option to truncate long posts on the dashboard. It was all up to the original poster if they’d be kind enough to cut their posts under a Read More/Keep Reading block. Scrolling past a long post was hell, especially for those on mobile. The color of the sky post was quite notorious for this.

Another example would be tags informing users on whether images in the post contain an alt text (aka image description/image ID): #image id, #image described

Or, if the images don’t have an ID: #undescribed, #no image id, #no id, #no id in alt text.

Other Descriptive tags:

#caps lock

#large text

#small text

#colored text

#eye strain

#bright colors

#flashing

#fast gif

#transcribed (for audio/video posts including a transcription)

#unmute (tells the viewer of a post to turn on the sound of a video)

Promotional

These are tags that are tracked by other blogs and often use the name of the blog that tracks them. By adding Promotional tags on your posts, you are guaranteed a reblog from the blog tracking the tag.

Examples:

@ bluelocksource tracks the #bluelocksource and #bluelockedit tags

@ anisource tracks #anisource

@ dailyanime tracks #dailyanime

Systematic

Tags are a great way to organize your blog. Since Tumblr is a reblogging site, people often use tags to differentiate their original posts from reblogs. Some would tag their originals with something like #my post or #mine. Another trend is to use #your-url.txt.

I tag original posts on this blog and across my side blogs as #lznk #miyamiwu.src. It’s from the consonants of my url, but I also chose it because it’s unique throughout Tumblr. Whenever I want to view my posts across all my blogs in one place, I just use the dashboard search. Nobody uses the tag aside me, so all posts that come up would be mine. Hopefully it stays that way…

And from your own originals, you can categorize it even further: #my art, #my edits, #my writing, #my cats, etc.

Of course, you can also categorize reblogs. Some people add #reblog or #rb. If you blog about a certain topic and would like to post/reblog something unrelated to that topic, you may add a #not topic tag. The popular @ one-time-i-dreamt blog uses the tag #not a dream.

Fun

I don’t really have to explain this, do I? Fun tags are basically your little side comments/footnotes. They are things you wanna say but don’t really want to be too out there.

I'm not gonna include examples of this, but I’d like to talk about the mentions of “prev” in Fun tags.

Prev stands for the user you reblogged a post from—the previous person, so to speak. Some people just prefer to speak to someone in the tags instead of saying it loudly in a reblog; hence, the need to say “prev.”

“Prev” is also used when one is copying a person’s tags [on the mobile app]. To give credit to the person who came up with the tags, you may add something like #<- prev’s tags (the arrow would be pointing to the copied tags).

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Aaaand that's all. Normally, I'd write a proper conclusion to a post like this, but writing this was exhausting, okay? Just take this and go~

#tumblr #tumblr guide #tutorial #twitter #tagging #colored text #<- but only a little #long post #tumblr tags #ironically idk how to tag this post #tumblr culture #miyamiwu.src #tumblr tutorial #miyamiwu.tut

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undergroundkdrama · 1 year

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#KDRAMAWOMENSWEEK 2023 | March 8th – 15th 2023

[alternatively: a week and one day to talk about and make things for women you appreciate in celebration of International Women’s Day] Inspired by @evansbrewster that’s no longer on Tumblr.com.

@kdramaladies will be hosting the event as well. I’ll reblog where I can and try to be present. Prompts courtesy of @dramaheroine who has dont 99.9999% of getting this week to happen, prompts and more, thanks so much. Gifs courtesy of @cuddlybitch, @haeyeongs and @orangesyellow. Thank you all so so much. Thank you to everyone that checks in about this when I am sure I’ll be sitting it out. KWW has been happening for eight years, this being the ninth which is nuts.

Please tag your posts #kdramawomensweek and/or @undergroundkdrama so they are easier to find, admire, and reblog.

Day 1: In Her Head

Women with rich inner worlds, full of hidden thoughts, desires and fantasies. Are her thoughts being revealed to the viewers in visually exciting ways? Think dream sequences, a touch of magical realism, voiceovers, a cut to a talking head or perhaps weird little animated cells…

Day 2: “It” Girl

2021 was all about Haves and Haves Not x2000. 2022 was the year of women in the legal profession. Tell us which of the characters fitting this year’s trend you have enjoyed the most and why. What made them better than the rest? Or what else do you think has been a popular theme/genre/topic for 2022 dramas? How did women fit into the equation? Here are a few examples: gangsters, “behind the scenes”, school violence, countryside living etc.

Day 3: The Help

Women holding everything together in the background, women who have to do all the dirty work, who do thankless labour regardless of the setting or time period. Servants, secretaries, domestic staff, cleaners, nurses, nannies, care workers, housewives…Let’s put some time aside to ‘celebrate those who don’t celebrate’ because they are too busy keeping things running.

Day 4: Bad Girls Club

Everyone loves an angst filled, angry revenge drama so lets talk about the women who seek revenge? Women who hold grudges and whose hearts are filled with rage. Women who hurt others (knowingly and unknowingly). Women who seek power over others and/or themselves in cruel ways. A day for celebrating women’s wrongs.

Day 5: Recommend Her!

Choose your fave – give us a Top 10 that you think she’d make e.g. Spotify Wrapped, her 2023 reading list, her watchlist. Personally, I think that Lee Yeo Reum from Summer Strike listens to a playlist like this (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3yrqVOEnwQG4z8czX8qD4k?si=36e45bbaeaad4892) as she walks around the village trying to make sense of who she is and what she wants. Today’s a day for projecting and recommending. Sneak your recs in here.

Day 6: Funny Girl Woman

We know women are funny, here’s your time to show love to the actresses who predominately act in comedies, female characters who you find hilarious and actresses who provide the perfect comedic relief every time they pop up onscreen.

Day 7: Lee Yoon Jung/Noh Hee Kyung OR Surprise!

Two pioneering women behind many of our classic favourite dramas. Think of this as a space for tributes to them, what you love about their dramas, Lee Yoon Jung’s direction, Noh Hee Kyung’s writing, your favourite female characters from their dramas… OR Your favourite cameos by actresses! Who used their tiny bit of screen time in the best way possible?!

Day 8: Timeslip

What if time travel really existed? What if two female characters from different dramas, from different tv eras could meet? How are they connected? Why should they meet? Think of this as an opportunity for you to travel back in time.

Please also feel free to be inspired by the prompts from previous years (2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2020 Part Deux, 2021, 2022).

#kdramaedit #kdramasource #userdramas #asiandramanet #asiandramasource #kdrama women's week #kdramawomensweek #and I am very thankful always for everyone that participates #i hope you're all doing well and live isn't kicking your ass too hard #and that you're giving yourself the grace that you'll be giving these characters this week!#bc that's what it's all about and all that mushy stuff #thank you thank you <3 #this will always mean something to me even though i am a flake and i don't have the strength or time and sometimes even the energy or will #thanks again to dramaheroine #truly a heroine #thank you

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ofinkandpaper · 1 year

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A Changed World

Yandere!Villian!MHA x Reader

Hello! Finally, after nearly an entire year, I have finally finished chapter two with the gracious help and beta reading of @cupidcreates ❤️ So many things have been going on in my personal life and I really appreciate y'all's patience with this. Also, to clarify why I tag certain characters though they don't appear in a this chapter: they are referenced and are an important character to the story as a whole, so it makes it easier for me to keep track of what tags I should put on each chapter when they're all the same.

Note: The characters are aged up. As the story progresses, I will tag each chapter with respective trigger and content warnings, which may include mentions of murder, assault, cannibalism, stalking, torture, arson, terrorism, and other felonies, Yandere themes, Sexual assault, Mental illness, abuse. I do not own MHA nor do these personalities represent the writers, characters or VAs of the show. This is strictly fiction and for entertainment purposes only.

**Trigger Warnings: Implied Stalking/Being Watched

Word Count: 3,566

Taglist: @lolawassad @letskidaddle @youngbeansprout @bakuhoes-dumbass @cupidcreates

"Okay, so here's what I'm thinking." You glanced up from your computer for a moment, pausing in writing the few reports Tamaki had asked you for to give Kendo the small amount of attention you knew would be needed for her to continue talking.

Her casual drone, when comfortable, made for nice background noise and gave you a sense of peace.

"You could always move in with me! Sure, you may have to deal with Monoma every once in a while, but he's mellowed out a bit since we graduated so he isn't as much of a nuisance as he used to be." The thought made you scoff, but gave you a tiny bit of hope for the blonde man. Even with as much hate as he spewed at your fellow classmates, you had a small soft spot for him. As far as you could recall, you were one of the few that he had actually confided in when it came to his quirk insecurity - whether a copying quirk was a good fit for hero work or not, and not having much support about it in his childhood. Sometimes it made you wonder, a little dejectedly, if he had been making a jab at your own quirk. Sure it wasn't anything fancy like Hawks' was, but you liked it well enough.

"You of all people know I don't actually mind being around him, Itsuka." You huffed a laugh and went back to typing, "Besides, I can tell you right now I'm not a good roommate. Partially due to my quirk and partially due to how much I enjoy being alone sometimes."

"Oh please, if I could handle you in the UA dorms, I can handle you in a regular living situation." You could almost feel the force of her eye roll as you hear her flop back onto your bed. You glance at the clock to check the time before continuing to type, making a silent promise to finish this one report and send what you have done while promising Tamaki you would finish the rest tomorrow.

You wanted at least a few hours with your friend while she was here, you know?

"Honestly, I think you only managed that because of Monoma and Tetsutetsu." You smirk and glance her way again. Again, she scoffed and waved a hand dismissively as she turned her attention to her phone. Once more, back to the paperwork grind, you pushed through the last few sentences before sending them off to their respective destinations.

"Oh. There was one other thing I wanted to ask about." You swivel to face Kendo, frowning as she sat up and gave you the most serious look you've seen on her the entire day.

"What's up?"

"Are you really okay living here? With all the gang activity?"

The sudden weight of her questions caused a slight tension to rise over your body and your expression to fall a touch. You turned away from her as you thought of an answer, staring blankly at your keyboard. You could hear her shifting - uncomfortably, you assumed - as she tried to wait patiently for your response.

It was hard to think of an answer that didn't sound like there was some lie to it. Sure, you were used to the gangs, and appreciated that they didn't make your life as much of hell as they probably could… but that didn't mean you were entirely comfortable with them getting away with strong arming innocent civilians just because they knew the local heroes weren't supported enough to be able to stand up confidently and fully against them.

In all honesty, you had half a mind sometimes to leave Tamaki's agency and join the local one to add some backbone to the force.

"It's alright… it's not exactly what I would really want, but it's what I can afford at the moment.” You pause and give a shrug, “And the gangs haven’t been too bad recently. Just wish the hero agency in this area had a bit more support so they could actually do something about it all.”

Kendo was quiet as she took in your words, and with your attention away from her, her expression neutralized. It would have been easy for you to see the thoughts that swirled behind her eyes; thinking of how she could help and who she could talk to about either easing the situation in your neighborhood or getting you to move elsewhere. Having known you since your schooling days, she knew you were a stubborn one - she could almost put you on par with Midorya and Bakugo, if she were being completely honest.

Maybe a talk with Nejire was in order.

She forced a smile on her lips as she stood and went over, humming as she placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at her, finding a soft smile coming easy to you in response to her own.

“Well, while you figure out what you want to really do - don’t lie to me, I can tell you’re thinking about it - remember you have a plethora of people who have your back if you ever wanna move out.”

You sigh and nod, softly mentioning Tamaki’s offer to help you move closer to his agency. There was a sudden, but subtle, stiffness in her hand, though before you could really question it, she relaxed and moved away towards the bedroom door.

“Why haven’t you taken him up on it yet? Oh, and did you want any tea?” She pauses at the door, waiting for your answer. You hum and nod, standing to follow her to the kitchen. This small moment made you glad she still felt comfortable enough with you to know she could make use of your home-space as if it were her own.

“I don’t know… if I’m being honest, I just really don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of his kindness. Like, getting me an entire house? That’s a lot - way too much! I could never just casually go ‘oh sure, thanks boss!’ to something like that.” You hoisted yourself up onto the counter, swinging your legs a little as you watch Kendo shuffling around getting the kettle and mugs set up. She raised a brow and glanced your way for a moment as she turned the oven on to start boiling the water.

“A house? I thought his offer was for an apartment.” You make an elongated noise, accompanied by the shrug of your shoulders and one of your hands swaying side to side in a ‘maybe’ gesture.

“House, apartment… he’s offered a few different options, including moving in with him,” Again you shrug, “But, again, it's nothing that I can easily accept from him. Not only do I not wanna seem like a burden that needs to be protected, but I also don’t want to step on his toes and feel like I’m taking advantage of his kindness.”

She seemed to fall quiet in her thoughts as she watched the kettle, waiting for the whistle to signal that the water was ready. You let yourself relax a little further and rest your head against the edge of the cabinets while surveying the rest of the kitchen casually. Would it really be so bad if you decided to take one of them up on their offer to move in? Well, Tamaki did offer first - but Kendo was, as you felt, a closer friend. Glancing up at the ceiling, you contemplated if there had been anyone else that you could recall offering you a place to stay that wasn’t infested with more gang activity than a single hero could handle; you pull a blank as the kettle begins to whistle. Kendo picks it up and softly asks you to hold the tea bag strings in place as she pours. You were glad to do it; it gave your mind something else to focus on, and your hands something to do.

“I don’t think he would ever consider it as being taken advantage of. He is the one that offered in the first place.” She smiled and set the kettle on a cool stove burner before picking up and handing you one of the mugs. You gave her a soft thanks, accompanied by a roll of your eyes.

“That is true, but he is still my boss. If it isn’t the thought of taking advantage of his kindness, then I could only imagine what the more immature members of the agency would think if they caught wind.” That got a responsive giggle as the red haired girl shook her head almost wildly; you were pretty sure that if she hadn’t had that cup of tea in her hands, pressed against her chest, she would be waving her hands all over the place.

“I don’t even want to think about that! I’ve seen some of the members of your agency - I’m honestly surprised Suneater hasn’t said anything to them about their behaviour yet.” For some reason, her calling Tamaki by his hero name gave you pause to ponder slightly - had you been the only one to call him by his name this entire time? And why did it feel weird to hear him being referred to as anything beyond his name? You shake the thoughts before you could dive too far down that specific rabbit hole.

“I’m not sure, but I do recall him talking to a few at one point. Must’ve been really bad considering how they ended up acting like absolutely perfect angels after their private conversation with him.” You sipped your tea and let your mind wander again for a moment. What had those few done that caused Tamaki to actually reprimand them like he had, and not any of the other kinds of offenders? Kendo shrugged and took a sip of her own tea. However, before she could speak, her phone began to ring from the bedroom. Excusing herself, she set down her mug and darted off to answer it - you hoped you hadn’t kept her for too long. She hadn’t even mentioned if she was on call for hero work today or not before coming over to hang out.

You continued to nurse your tea, carefully leaping down from the counter so as not to knock her mug over in the process or spill any of yours. You meander into the living room and ponder if you wanted to either watch TV or grab a book to read. Or, as the thought came, you could go grab your own phone and either mindlessly scroll through social media or read fanfiction of your favorite shows and movies. You had a bit of a guilty pleasure when it came to reader inserts - though you weren’t sure why you called it guilty when it was a perfectly acceptable form of written media for your consumption!

You turned towards the bedroom as Kendo came back out, a pout on her lips as she went to her mug to take a few more quick sips before dumping the rest. Your brows furrowed in silent question when she finally turned towards you.

“Got called in to help with a few rougher captures.” She sighed and shook her head, “Guess the newbies weren’t as well trained in the area as we thought they were.”

“That’s understandable, was anyone hurt?”

“No casualties yet, but if you want I can keep you up to date on the progress?” You nod and she smiled, returning it before striding over to grab her bag. Instead of her usual hug and verbal goodbyes, she gave you a quiet wave as she slipped out the door. You sigh and glance around the room again before sitting down and flicking the TV on to see if there was anything good on at the moment, or if you were going to have to switch over to one of your streaming services.

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The moment the door shut behind her, Kendo sighed and pulled her phone out to redial Nejire-Chan.

Hello~?

“Just left their apartment, everything seems to be fine.” She spoke softly as she moved away from the door, keeping her head down as an unexpectedly deep frown found a home on her lips. She heard Nejire hum from the other end for a moment or two before she spoke again.

I’m glad to hear it! Gotta make sure Suneater’s little star stays safe… though, you seem to be troubled by something? The question almost caused Kendo to laugh, even over the phone no one could keep even a single thought from the woman’s notice.

“Did you know he had offered them to move in with him?” There was a pause on the other end before a playful groan.

Seriously? Talk about a bold move - never would’ve expected something like that from him! There was a giggle But, at the same time, too forward of a question when he doesn’t even know if they like him back or not.

“Well, from the sounds of it, they were really giving it some thought after I offered to let them move in with me.” There was another giggle and the clicking of the lavender headed hero’s tongue.

Now, don’t go around making promises you can’t keep. You have orders to keep an eye on them, not make moves! This got a full laugh instead of the usual giggles as Kendo’s cheeks burned from a flustered embarrassment. She hadn’t thought about it like that when she first offered, but there was a flutter in her chest at the thought of the domestic kind of life she could have with one of her best friends. Did she have a crush on them? She wasn’t sure, and didn’t even know where to begin trying to figure that out. Instead, she cleared her throat and decided to pull the topic in a different direction.

“Have you heard word from Monoma yet about..?”

Not yet, but I’m sure it won’t take long for LeMillion and Deku to show back up on the radar. I’m still curious as to what they were needed for over in America. Kendo could practically hear the pout through the phone call, which brought the smile back to her lips and pulled her mind from her previous thoughts.

She looked around her before walking up to the bus stop and sitting down, wrapping her arms around her bag to keep it close to her chest while she swung her legs. She got an odd fulfilled sensation whenever her feet would scrape against the concrete beneath her.

“I’m sure they’ll tell us all about it when they come home - if it wasn’t too confidential at least.” Nejire-Chan hummed in agreement. As she heard the other hero take a breath to begin speaking again, there was a soft voice on the other end catching her attention. Nejire pardoned herself for a moment and lowered the phone just enough to muffle the conversation, though Kendo could still hear it relatively well. Just as she’d been told before, it was about those villains she had to help get put into the system.

At least she hadn’t needed to tell them a lie when she had to leave, now that she thought about it.

Hey, I need to talk to you later. Let me know when you make it in! As she was hanging up, Nejire’s voice could be heard instructing the sidekick on what they should do in regards to whatever the question was they had asked.

Pulling the phone fully from her ear, she glanced around the bus stop and down both ways of the street for any sign of the bus before looking back down at her phone to scroll through her camera roll on a whim, also because she figured it was better than pulling a book up and getting sucked into the story while she was supposed to be at least somewhat focused on watching for when the bus came.

It felt like so long since any of them were in UA, and she was glad she was able to get so many memories saved into her phone during their time… it also felt a little weird that, now that she was thinking about it, that she managed to still have the same phone that she had all through school. Just that responsible with it, she supposed.

Scrolling through, there were plenty of pictures of Class B - a decent chunk of which were just evidence of times when Tetsutetsu and Monoma would steal her phone for impromptu photo sessions with the rest of the class. The memories made her eyes roll with a fond smile on her lips; she hadn’t heard much from Tetsu in a while, but that was to be expected when he was constantly on the job with Kirishima. Meanwhile, it was nearly impossible for her to get away from…

She blinked in surprise, opening one photo she had no recollection of finding before now. It was a selfie of Monoma and Tetsu on either side of… them. All three of them were smiling wide, as though laughing about something, and Monoma actually, genuinely, looked happier than she had ever really seen him before. Her smile came back, fonder than before, and her cheeks flushed a soft pink. For all the trouble he caused them, she really couldn’t imagine not having him as a friend. Any of them, really. She cleared her throat and put her phone down to keep herself from going emotionally overboard from the nostalgia, and just in time for the bus to arrive as well.

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The rush of the air outside the airplane cabin was calming, though his leg continued to jitter as he watched the clouds pass by. He was eager to get home and sleep in his own bed, patrol his own streets… see his friends. Needless to say, he was homesick, but he was on the track back home so it wasn’t too bad anymore. It had been months since they were last in Japan, and as much as he loved being over in America to learn and do some network connecting, he was more than ready to be back. Not to mention he was ready to have authentic Japanese food again from his favorite restaurants . Maybe he could drop by his mom’s place and get something homemade…

“You’re looking a lot better there, Deku!” The green haired man blinked and looked up at his traveling companion, his smile brighter than the sun - as per usual. Deku returned the smile, though a softer version, and nodded.

“I’m excited to be back home. I wonder how everyone’s doing.” He turned back to the window as Mirio sat across from him and looked out his own window. One of the perks of being a top five pro hero: getting to take a private plane instead of flying commercial - not that there was anything wrong with it! He just… wasn’t comfortable with tight spaces with very little options for maneuverability.

“I’m sure they’re doing just fine, though I’m also sure you knew that.” Mirio chuckled and turned his attention to Deku, “Especially with how you’ve been constantly exchanging emails with almost everyone during our time abroad.” Deku laughed and rubbed the back of his head. It was hard not to constantly be checking for new messages during their away time. Was that clingy of him? He didn’t really think so, and he was pretty sure someone would’ve told him to chill out with the instant replies. Even Bakugo hadn’t told him off about how quick he was to respond, which was a little bit of a surprise.

“Fair. How has Suneater and Nejire-Chan been, by the way? I know you’ve been keeping up with them.” Deku turned from the window and looked at Mirio, who he was surprised to see had a conspiratorial smile and was raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Nejire told me Tamaki has a crush on one of his sidekicks!” The blonde was moving to pull out his phone to flip through his messages while Deku tried to pick up his jaw from the floor.

“That’s great! Who is it?” Mirio held his phone out to him. On the screen was a picture of Tamaki and a hero dressed in a black and white suit with white owl wings.

“She hasn’t given me their name yet, wanting me to introduce myself to them in person first so I don’t spook them or let on that they were talked about behind their back. Not that talking about a friend’s crush is all that unusual.” Mirio chuckled and shrugged as Deku handed back the phone. He smiled and nodded.

“It would probably be odd if you called them out by name without them having met you before.”

The two continued to talk, from the mystery hero to how the agencies were doing and the crime rates that they’ve been hearing about. Not to mention going over profits from their side hustle and how things were going on that front… though, it was a little hard to focus on the rest of it when the hero Tamiki was pictured with kept slipping into his thoughts.

He would probably have to go with Mirio to greet them when they landed…

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